Growing up with two older sisters and two younger brothers you would think that I would have much time to myself. Right? No wait, that’s wrong. I spend the bulk of my childhood in my very own little imaginary world. In my world I was a puppy. I was the fastest person on a bike. I was a lion trapped in a cage at a zoo. I was Wonder Woman. I was a lot of different things yet I was still myself. I believe. I was my own best friend most of the time. Yes I had best friends. I could name them all if I wanted to put their names out there. But I would hope that they all knew that they were my friends at some point. I always found a way to make those friends hate me at some point and stop being my friends but for a while they were my friends. Which makes me wonder if I’m just a terrible person running around thinking that I’m wonderful and awesome when really, in fact, people hate me and roll their eyes at me when my back is turned.
Where was I going with this?
I might have to rethink drinking and blogging. And quick. Or I might just post this and see what happens. YAY!
Ugh. How do people stay skinny? I mean do they go to the gym EVERY day or something? And how do they have that motivation to do something like that?! I don’t get it. I think my drive is broken or something. I’m stuck in reverse. Now I’m almost to the feeling sorry for myself drunk. This could take a turn for the worse. Better go get another beer, see if that might help.
Okay can I say this without getting my ass kicked? When I hear that people are “trying to have a baby” the first thing I ask myself is “I wonder how often they’re having sex.” Because if I were “trying” to have a baby I would be doin’ it all the damn time. Not just when I was ovulating but listen. When I got pregnant, both times, we weren’t “trying” we just didn’t prevent it from happening. Get it? Too much? I wanna know! It bothers me because I can just invision these people “trying” and only having sex like once or twice a week or something and saying “man! we just can’t get pregnant!” and I’m saying “dude! do it more often!” Like my mom said the first time I got pregnant “Well Randa that’s what happens when you poke at something that often.” or something like that, I was too much in shock still to really listen to her.
Holy cow. I just realized what I SHOULD have done for my own b-day post. Made my mom write wonderful things about me. DAMN IT!
Instead I’ll just spew random nonsense. And force you to read. Because you know that you can’t stop reading. You just want to get to the end of it. I do that same thing. I subscribe to a terrible blog and every time there is a new post I read it. And I can’t stop. And it never gets any better and I hate the guy more and more every time I read but I don’t unsubscribe. It’s a sickness. There are a couple blogs out there that I do this with too. There are also people on twitter that I follow and can’t seem to unfollow because well they’ve talked to me once or twice and we have a couple things in common but most of the time they annoy the fuck out of me but yet I can’t unfollow. And I’ve lost you. Those of you who don’t tweet. Which are uhhhm the bulk of you. That’s right I’m referring to my friends and family as “you” what?
My desk is now littered with beer bottles. And a McDonalds cup and a couple of bowls that used to have cake in them…there is cake no more. I ate the last piece this morning. Oh and some tags from my new shorts, and a Mt. Dew bottle. And and. I have de-railed.
I’m pretty sure that Jesse is grooming Oscar to become a stunt man. He does really well at fake falling and faking death. Which is frightening and awesome all at once. And one day we were listening to music and Oscar pulled the devil horns out. Both hands. We were both so proud at that moment. Our little boy is growing up so fast! You know what else is awesome about Oscar? If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he goes right back to his own bed. Without a fight. Yup. That’s right. I don’t have to sleep with a toddler. Ever. And you know what else? I’m not too upset about that. Jesse trained him well. I can’t take credit for that at all. Because really he did most of it. Okay okay all of it. So I can’t really stop bragging about how cool Jesse is at the whole dad thing. Because really? He spoils me, he pretty much makes me the laziest woman in the world. I don’t do anything. And having him gone for a week really super freaking sucks. Especially when one of those days happens to be my birthday.
Alright I think I might be done with this drunken birthday post. Let’s hope it never happens again. Well maybe until next year.