Grayson. This town. Is so trashtastic.
I would be lying if I said I wouldn't take a chance to get the hell out of here.
Which makes me sad because my family is here... and those parts are nice. But overall? Gag me with a tobacco stick.
I suppose a person would have to... I dunno... get involved in a church or something... to increase their likelihood of not running into scum on a regular basis. But in my opinion, those places are full of their own kind of crazy that I can't seem to stomach either. And supposedly, those places also have an open door policy for scum, which ain't cool with me, LOL. Call me a bitch. I don't care.
Socially, we hang out with like-minded people, and that gives our corners of the world some sense of stability, whether real or not. SO WHERE ARE ALL MY LIKE-MINDED PEOPLE!?
Admittedly, my facebook friends list is chock-full of decent people. I know they exist, and I do enjoy them. But how do we ban together? How would we? Maybe a club called "No Bullshit Allowed." The NBA. Yes, no one is using that right now, right?
Overall, there are two types of people in Grayson. The disgusting pill-heads who blame the world for their own damn problems and call you "friend" if they think they can use you as an occasional ATM or lift shit from your home to take to the pawn shop. And snobs who think their shit doesn't stink. I fit into neither of these groups, thank god. And every family here has their share of both ends of the spectrum.
So I ask you, why would anyone want to live here? Either my kids are gonna grow up incapable of identifying their own shit by smell, or they are gonna grow up and rob me blind to support their pill habit while I say, "Oh, that's okay, sniff sniff, they just need to be loved. Of course you can borrow my car, if that's what you need to get better."
And I do understand that addiction becomes a disease. I've suffered at length from my own disease that people like to laugh at a lot, depression, so I'm not completely void of compassion here. But the decent people I know are the ones who finally said, "SHIIIIIIT, I am sooooo fucked, someone help me, I can't do this by myself, here are my problems, here's everything I've done, just help me." You cannot get help, you are NOT getting help, if you are still afraid to come clean, if you are still hiding shit. You have to live transparently. Both snobs and pill heads seem to have a big problem with that.
I'm upset tonight because a friend of mine gave her heart to one of these douchebags who tonight wiped his ass with it for what I hope is the last time. This jerk is something of a Grayson rockstar when it comes to being a fuck-up. If I named him, not a one of you would be surprised. And my friend is a young, sweet, talented, beautiful and amazing girl who deserves a lot better. But thanks to this asshole, she will probably be leaving this town, and a part of me envies her beyond words. Go, be free. lol A lot of good people have left this town for the same damn reasons. I want to be one of them.
So I'm really hating this place right now. I invite any of you to comment below with any of Grayson's redeeming qualities. Try to cheer me up. And having a plethora of Mexican restaurants to choose from does not count. Dig deeper.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Surprises!
I know, I know, I know. Bad luck and all that. Had a miscarriage last year, never got to hear a heartbeat. But I just can't help myself...
I've been impregnated!
**gasps and applause**
'Atta boy, Brad. Grandpa can stop threatening to come live with us to make sure we are regularly doing the deed.
I'm only 7 weeks. Our first appointment is set for April 23rd. I cried pretty hard at my first ever ultra-sound last year in February. And I'm betting I will at this one too, no matter which way it goes. I'm hoping it's a good, ugly faced, happy cry, though!
So this blog is going to temporarily become a place where instead of talking about inappropriate random shit, I'm going to talk about inappropriate preggers shit. Just for a while. Mainly cause this is my place, and I don't want to be one of those facebookers that drives the entire world crazy with their uterine parasite's development.
Awkward terribly over-share things about being knocked up:
BOOBIES. They sagged before, and holy shit, I didn't think they could sag any worse, but they can. I was losing all my weight in my boobs, too. And now they are back with a vengeance. They are sore beyond belief. My nips could cut glass AT ALL TIMES. Yes, even now. No, Brad, you can't touch them. I have never woken up to boob pain, and had to manually lift my breast out from under me and position it more comfortably... until now. Stupid boobs.
SMELLS. Not me, thank god. lol. No, the smells I smell with my smeller. The worst, by far, and this is weird... cleaning product. Air fresheners. Hair sprays, aerosols, perfumes. Basically things that are clean smelling. Which Brad isn't surprised to hear at all... LOL. We had a funk coming from our garage because of the cat we keep captive out there, so Brad hooked up an air freshener called "linen". I walked in to what was a wall of this odor. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?" "Oh, it's cat shit, so I plugged in this air..." "YES! THAT! GET IT THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I'd rather smell cat shit ANY day. Newly laundered sheets... can't stand them. Today at work someone was spraying hairspray all over the damn place. I wanted to hurl.
GENERAL RETARDATION. People really do get STUPID when they get pregnant. I've always suspected, honestly, but you know, thought I was so damn smart that if anything, I would still be pretty smart even if the baby eats a good portion of my brain. The other day, I LITERALLY got into the backseat of my car to go home from work, and sat there, CONFUSED, for like 5 minutes. Like a cat, when I realized the stupid thing I had done, I tried to pretend like I had meant to... started rooting around for things in the backseat... but there really was no saving face in that situation. I don't easily embarrass, but that killed me.
THE FURY. I am one angry bitch. I always have been, to be fair, things are always pissing me off that really have nothing to do with me. But now I'm dangerous. I might actually say something... TO YOUR FACE! I try to read my Eckhart Tolle every night... but it's no use. My ego is in full control. If you see me, ask me what I'm mad about. I have a list in my head at all times. I've come dangerously close to crossing the line of respect with customers at work on several occasions now. I almost told a woman the other day that my pictures weren't bad, her baby was just ugly as hell. And I would have sincerely meant it. The plunger was not kind to this kid on the way out of the birth canal. Not my fault. No wonder I had the balls to write a "shame-on-you-for-making-us-work-Easter" e-mail to my boss's boss. I'd do just about anything right now and think it was a SWELL idea. I'm thisclose to demanding a raise for myself and my manager, and also demanding that a pill-snorting co-worker of mine get her ass fired for being a lazy stupid bitch. It's just the kind of spit-fire mood I'm in. Keep your distance. Unless you've ever been curious as to how I truly feel about you or some issue, then ask away, you'll get as true a response now as you are ever gonna get.
My TEETH. This is so freaking random, or so I thought. Last time around, my teeth hurt. Had some pretty awful problems, no fun. Then for the next 2 months, while I was preggers, my teeth hurt, every damn day. Every day. So guess what they are doing now all the sudden? Hurting. I haven't slept a full night in weeks, what with the pissing and anbesol breaks. I wake up crying and confused, and Brad will be like, "ERICA! Go get your anbesol." And I'm all like, Oh... yeah, okay, thanks. Apparently when you are pregnant, your blood vessels enlarge, or dilate, to get extra oxygen everywhere, especially in your soft tissue areas: vagina, sinuses, gums. So, there ya go. Vaginal discharge, a CONSTANT runny/stopped up nose, bleeding gums, and sore teeth. Life is so beautiful.
ZOMBIE-ISM. Oh, yeah, and when I do wake up from sleep, I'm brain dead for at least 5 minutes before I remember where I am and why I've woken up. Like, "Oh, I needed to pee." Or "Shit, my teeth are hurting, that's why I'm up." Or "Oh... I have to go to work today... that's why I'm up." I'm just so confused all the time. The other night, I woke up, but not really, had already started to get up out of bed, not knowing really why (turns out I had to piss really bad), got my feet tangled in the sheets, and just hit the damn floor. All I knew was that my head hurt like HELL, I just laid in the floor screaming until Brad finally got to me and was like, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? I think I was still sleeping, but I had busted my head on the nightstand, and there was blood, and my head only recently stopped throbbing from it. I've lost my damn mind.
And I think it's completely hilarious.
Oh yeah, Brad's going through some shit too, something about his back hurting all the time and going to the chiropractor, but no one really cares. That jealous diva just needs some attention.
I've been impregnated!
**gasps and applause**
'Atta boy, Brad. Grandpa can stop threatening to come live with us to make sure we are regularly doing the deed.
I'm only 7 weeks. Our first appointment is set for April 23rd. I cried pretty hard at my first ever ultra-sound last year in February. And I'm betting I will at this one too, no matter which way it goes. I'm hoping it's a good, ugly faced, happy cry, though!
So this blog is going to temporarily become a place where instead of talking about inappropriate random shit, I'm going to talk about inappropriate preggers shit. Just for a while. Mainly cause this is my place, and I don't want to be one of those facebookers that drives the entire world crazy with their uterine parasite's development.
Awkward terribly over-share things about being knocked up:
BOOBIES. They sagged before, and holy shit, I didn't think they could sag any worse, but they can. I was losing all my weight in my boobs, too. And now they are back with a vengeance. They are sore beyond belief. My nips could cut glass AT ALL TIMES. Yes, even now. No, Brad, you can't touch them. I have never woken up to boob pain, and had to manually lift my breast out from under me and position it more comfortably... until now. Stupid boobs.
SMELLS. Not me, thank god. lol. No, the smells I smell with my smeller. The worst, by far, and this is weird... cleaning product. Air fresheners. Hair sprays, aerosols, perfumes. Basically things that are clean smelling. Which Brad isn't surprised to hear at all... LOL. We had a funk coming from our garage because of the cat we keep captive out there, so Brad hooked up an air freshener called "linen". I walked in to what was a wall of this odor. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?" "Oh, it's cat shit, so I plugged in this air..." "YES! THAT! GET IT THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I'd rather smell cat shit ANY day. Newly laundered sheets... can't stand them. Today at work someone was spraying hairspray all over the damn place. I wanted to hurl.
GENERAL RETARDATION. People really do get STUPID when they get pregnant. I've always suspected, honestly, but you know, thought I was so damn smart that if anything, I would still be pretty smart even if the baby eats a good portion of my brain. The other day, I LITERALLY got into the backseat of my car to go home from work, and sat there, CONFUSED, for like 5 minutes. Like a cat, when I realized the stupid thing I had done, I tried to pretend like I had meant to... started rooting around for things in the backseat... but there really was no saving face in that situation. I don't easily embarrass, but that killed me.
THE FURY. I am one angry bitch. I always have been, to be fair, things are always pissing me off that really have nothing to do with me. But now I'm dangerous. I might actually say something... TO YOUR FACE! I try to read my Eckhart Tolle every night... but it's no use. My ego is in full control. If you see me, ask me what I'm mad about. I have a list in my head at all times. I've come dangerously close to crossing the line of respect with customers at work on several occasions now. I almost told a woman the other day that my pictures weren't bad, her baby was just ugly as hell. And I would have sincerely meant it. The plunger was not kind to this kid on the way out of the birth canal. Not my fault. No wonder I had the balls to write a "shame-on-you-for-making-us-work-Easter" e-mail to my boss's boss. I'd do just about anything right now and think it was a SWELL idea. I'm thisclose to demanding a raise for myself and my manager, and also demanding that a pill-snorting co-worker of mine get her ass fired for being a lazy stupid bitch. It's just the kind of spit-fire mood I'm in. Keep your distance. Unless you've ever been curious as to how I truly feel about you or some issue, then ask away, you'll get as true a response now as you are ever gonna get.
My TEETH. This is so freaking random, or so I thought. Last time around, my teeth hurt. Had some pretty awful problems, no fun. Then for the next 2 months, while I was preggers, my teeth hurt, every damn day. Every day. So guess what they are doing now all the sudden? Hurting. I haven't slept a full night in weeks, what with the pissing and anbesol breaks. I wake up crying and confused, and Brad will be like, "ERICA! Go get your anbesol." And I'm all like, Oh... yeah, okay, thanks. Apparently when you are pregnant, your blood vessels enlarge, or dilate, to get extra oxygen everywhere, especially in your soft tissue areas: vagina, sinuses, gums. So, there ya go. Vaginal discharge, a CONSTANT runny/stopped up nose, bleeding gums, and sore teeth. Life is so beautiful.
ZOMBIE-ISM. Oh, yeah, and when I do wake up from sleep, I'm brain dead for at least 5 minutes before I remember where I am and why I've woken up. Like, "Oh, I needed to pee." Or "Shit, my teeth are hurting, that's why I'm up." Or "Oh... I have to go to work today... that's why I'm up." I'm just so confused all the time. The other night, I woke up, but not really, had already started to get up out of bed, not knowing really why (turns out I had to piss really bad), got my feet tangled in the sheets, and just hit the damn floor. All I knew was that my head hurt like HELL, I just laid in the floor screaming until Brad finally got to me and was like, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? I think I was still sleeping, but I had busted my head on the nightstand, and there was blood, and my head only recently stopped throbbing from it. I've lost my damn mind.
And I think it's completely hilarious.
Oh yeah, Brad's going through some shit too, something about his back hurting all the time and going to the chiropractor, but no one really cares. That jealous diva just needs some attention.
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