My Grammar Nazi days have been long and many. Other students either REALLY loved having me check their work, or they REALLY hated it. I guess some people just can't stand criticism.
Looking back, I remember one time in fifth grade, we were supposed to write an essay or a story or something. So I did. To make it look extra fancy, I asked my mom to type it up on her computer and print it for me.
As I stood in front of the class the next day to read my work, I looked down at the page and started crying. Mom had messed it up! There were question marks where exclamation points should have been, misspellings, and even weird capitalization. I started sobbing, right there in front of the class. I couldn't believe it.
Mom was flabbergasted when I confronted her. She thought she was helping me, by making it look like I had typed it, and not her. Except I wouldn't have had those mistakes. My original paper didn't, which is what I ended up turning in.
Mom's never touched another one of my papers since.
2/17/12
A long time, a lot of growth
It has been a long time since I have last written anything. A long time since I really wanted to.
A lot has changed since I last wrote here. Nothing to do with the spiritual stuff, but mostly a large paradigm shift.
My politics are different. Occupy Wall Street opened my eyes. I'd known corporations weren't my friend. I just didn't realize they were my enemy. I also really, really hate the GOP.
My parenting is different. I can't breastfeed anymore. I miss it. My son is walking now, eating solid foods. He's a real person, with a great personality. It's the weirdest thing ever, seeing a 2" tall person walking around the living room.
I'm more in touch with my sexuality. I was never really scared of sex, always knew I was somewhat attracted to females, but I've discovered so much more about myself.
My emotional health is different, and I'm not sure it's in a good way. Las Vegas (We moved back in October) is wearing me down. Emotional and verbal abuse from my dad, my mom is extremely negative... It's adding up, and now I can see why I was so depressed growing up. Oddly, I'm proud of myself for surviving my childhood, if this is what I lived through. I just hope I don't pass it on to the next generation.
A lot has changed since I last wrote here. Nothing to do with the spiritual stuff, but mostly a large paradigm shift.
My politics are different. Occupy Wall Street opened my eyes. I'd known corporations weren't my friend. I just didn't realize they were my enemy. I also really, really hate the GOP.
My parenting is different. I can't breastfeed anymore. I miss it. My son is walking now, eating solid foods. He's a real person, with a great personality. It's the weirdest thing ever, seeing a 2" tall person walking around the living room.
I'm more in touch with my sexuality. I was never really scared of sex, always knew I was somewhat attracted to females, but I've discovered so much more about myself.
My emotional health is different, and I'm not sure it's in a good way. Las Vegas (We moved back in October) is wearing me down. Emotional and verbal abuse from my dad, my mom is extremely negative... It's adding up, and now I can see why I was so depressed growing up. Oddly, I'm proud of myself for surviving my childhood, if this is what I lived through. I just hope I don't pass it on to the next generation.
6/24/11
MIND = BLOWN
I have reconnected with a friend recently. Haven't talked to him since 2007. And wholly shit things have changed.
Matt and I had always connected on a much deeper level, and I'm just now finding out why.
I'm weird. You know it, I know it, the stranger at the checkout counter knows it. And now I have answers as to why.
Apparently, there are people like me out there. I'm not alone. This thought alone lifts my heart immensely.
Nearly all my life I have felt out of place, weird, different.... Because I was. I am. BUT NO LONGER.
I figured it couldn't be just me that could see, feel, experience different types of energies. See auras, know of things to come, speak with the dead, channel the emotions of those around me, and if I worked hard enough, poke into the minds of others. But I have found out that, for a fact, there are people like me. And that I am an amateur, which blows my mind to smithereens, let me tell you!
I really don't know a whole lot about anything, so there's not much more I can explain, I just wanted to let the couple of readers I have (If I have any...) know that I'm very, very, happy right now, to a point that is beyond words. A huge weight has been lifted off my heart.
5/21/11
Oh. My. God.
Item 1 Glibness/superficial charm
Item 2 Grandiose sense of self-worth
Item 3 Need for stimulation/proneness to boredom
Item 4 Pathological lying
Item 5 Cunning/manipulative
Item 6 Lack of remorse or guilt
Item 7 Shallow affect
Item 8 Callous/lack of empathy
Item 9 Parasitic lifestyle
Item 10 Poor behavioural controls
Item 11 Promiscuous sexual behaviour
Item 12 Early behaviour problems
Item 13 Lack of realistic long-term goals
Item 14 Impulsivity
Item 15 Irresponsibility
Item 16 Failure to accept responsibility for own actions
Item 17 Many short-term marital relationships
Item 18 Juvenile delinquency
Item 19 Revocation of conditional release
Item 20 Criminal versatility
This is the 20-point Hare PCL-R. It's a test to determine if a person is a psychopath.
All the highlighted numbers describe my ex boyfriend, with whom I lived for a little over a year.
My blood is ice.
5/18/11
OMG Guys, I'm Writing Again!!
So one of my friends in REAL life (OMG I have those??) introduced me to this guy, R. G. Ryan. He's a published author, who is actually pretty down-to-earth. Well, recently on Twitter he put out a casting call for writers who wanted to make a collaboration.
So, I decided I wanted to at least try.
And I did!
And I was good! Don't believe me?? LOOK! 'Cause I'm not kidding and I'm excited.
Feel free to check out the rest of the collaboration. 'Cause it's GOOD. I encourage it.
OH! R.G. said in an Email that I've got... Y'know what, I'm just going to copypasta:
"So, listen...just from the little I saw, you definitely have ability. I get it about life making demands, but innate giftings cannot be ignored. I'm a writer. I'm published many times over. I think you're good. For what it's worth. 8-)
So glad we ran into each other here in the cyberverse."
Excuse me while I go squee like a small child.
So, I decided I wanted to at least try.
And I did!
And I was good! Don't believe me?? LOOK! 'Cause I'm not kidding and I'm excited.
Feel free to check out the rest of the collaboration. 'Cause it's GOOD. I encourage it.
OH! R.G. said in an Email that I've got... Y'know what, I'm just going to copypasta:
"So, listen...just from the little I saw, you definitely have ability. I get it about life making demands, but innate giftings cannot be ignored. I'm a writer. I'm published many times over. I think you're good. For what it's worth. 8-)
So glad we ran into each other here in the cyberverse."
Excuse me while I go squee like a small child.
5/7/11
So I'm A Mom
First off, Lemme say this:
O.O Holyshit.
Secondly, I'm NOT going to explain what happened with the adoption. Not right now, anyways, maybe not ever.
Thirdly, HOLYSHIT I'M A MOM.
<--- THIS is my son, Aiden Eramiyah Driscoll. Ain't he a little cutie?!?!? (Agree with me or I'll hunt you down.)
Today, he's 27 days old. He weighs ~10lbs, and is 21" long. (I say ~10, because that's what he weighed a couple days ago when the nurse came to visit.)
Aiden is currently laying on my chest, trying to sleep there because I can't get him to sleep in his swing, bouncer, or bassinet half the time. But when he's with me, I almost can't keep him awake. Unless it's 1 a.m. AKA playtime.
Aiden was born on April 11, at 7:06 pm. He weighed 7lbs 14.6 oz, and was 19" long. I was in labor for 11 hours, but I slept through most of it with the help of an AMAZING anesthesiologist. I couldn't move my right leg, feel any contractions, and they had to wake me up to start pushing. Really, I'm not kidding.
Aiden is AMAZING. He doesn't cry much (mostly when he's farting), he sleeps a lot, and isn't an urper. He's been able to hold his head up since a couple days after his birthday, and I'm almost positive that if he could get some traction on his playmat, he'd be crawling around the house in a matter of days. He's talking to himself and his toys (cooing if I have to be specific), and smiling and laughing. It's amazing, to be a mom.
It breaks my heart when he screams. 'Nuff said.
Xander likes him, which is kinda a surprise, since he seems to have an issue with males. He keeps trying to give Aiden his toys to throw, or watching him when we're holding him. We think he's waiting for Aiden to get big enough to play with, and is just growing impatient. But as Grannie keeps reminding him, soon Aiden is going to be big enough to start pulling on ears and tail, and Xander won't like that much.
Sam is kinda pissed, because whenever he jumps up into our laps, Oops! There's a baby!
Aiden's in his rocker and starting to get hungry, so I guess I'd better go. TTYL! :D
O.O Holyshit.
Secondly, I'm NOT going to explain what happened with the adoption. Not right now, anyways, maybe not ever.
Thirdly, HOLYSHIT I'M A MOM.
Today, he's 27 days old. He weighs ~10lbs, and is 21" long. (I say ~10, because that's what he weighed a couple days ago when the nurse came to visit.)
Aiden is currently laying on my chest, trying to sleep there because I can't get him to sleep in his swing, bouncer, or bassinet half the time. But when he's with me, I almost can't keep him awake. Unless it's 1 a.m. AKA playtime.
Aiden was born on April 11, at 7:06 pm. He weighed 7lbs 14.6 oz, and was 19" long. I was in labor for 11 hours, but I slept through most of it with the help of an AMAZING anesthesiologist. I couldn't move my right leg, feel any contractions, and they had to wake me up to start pushing. Really, I'm not kidding.
Aiden is AMAZING. He doesn't cry much (mostly when he's farting), he sleeps a lot, and isn't an urper. He's been able to hold his head up since a couple days after his birthday, and I'm almost positive that if he could get some traction on his playmat, he'd be crawling around the house in a matter of days. He's talking to himself and his toys (cooing if I have to be specific), and smiling and laughing. It's amazing, to be a mom.
It breaks my heart when he screams. 'Nuff said.
Xander likes him, which is kinda a surprise, since he seems to have an issue with males. He keeps trying to give Aiden his toys to throw, or watching him when we're holding him. We think he's waiting for Aiden to get big enough to play with, and is just growing impatient. But as Grannie keeps reminding him, soon Aiden is going to be big enough to start pulling on ears and tail, and Xander won't like that much.
Sam is kinda pissed, because whenever he jumps up into our laps, Oops! There's a baby!
Aiden's in his rocker and starting to get hungry, so I guess I'd better go. TTYL! :D
3/25/11
Comments
So on my last post, "Leaving Las Vegas" I got a couple of comments. This one, in particular, piqued my interest as it is in Russian and I have no clue why they would post it in Russian. It was removed (not by me), but a copy of it was sent to my inbox, so here it is:
воспитанников детского дома, считая трату денег на них совершенно бесполезным занятием. И без зазрения совести клал в собственный карман все, до чего
третий день училась перемещению и никак не могла научиться. Не получалось, хоть ты плачь! Спасибо Касре, теперь она поняла, в чем ошибалась!
тротуар, ощущая себя мокрой облезлой мышью. Маг, засевший внутри дома, ударил по офицеру смертельной связкой, едва ощутив рядом дрожание
скривился полицейский. У меня там три друга погибло, а я сам пулю в легкое схлопотал. Сейчас мы идем брать человека, устроившего ту резню,
следили за порядком, сразу одергивая нарушителя спокойствия. Ленни весь сжался и, оглянувшись на внимательно осматривающего столовую аарн, поплелся к
If you can translate it and send me a copy of what it says, that'd be great... I'm curious!
воспитанников детского дома, считая трату денег на них совершенно бесполезным занятием. И без зазрения совести клал в собственный карман все, до чего
третий день училась перемещению и никак не могла научиться. Не получалось, хоть ты плачь! Спасибо Касре, теперь она поняла, в чем ошибалась!
тротуар, ощущая себя мокрой облезлой мышью. Маг, засевший внутри дома, ударил по офицеру смертельной связкой, едва ощутив рядом дрожание
скривился полицейский. У меня там три друга погибло, а я сам пулю в легкое схлопотал. Сейчас мы идем брать человека, устроившего ту резню,
следили за порядком, сразу одергивая нарушителя спокойствия. Ленни весь сжался и, оглянувшись на внимательно осматривающего столовую аарн, поплелся к
If you can translate it and send me a copy of what it says, that'd be great... I'm curious!
2/21/11
Leaving Las Vegas
So, on Saturday of last week, mom and I packed up the car to bursting, threw in a hyperactive, often-carsick Schnauzer; an extremely nervous and skittish cat; two frogs with environment issues; and left Las Vegas, heading North East to Iowa.
Iowa, you ask? Yes. Central Iowa to be a little more specific. Newton, Iowa to be much more specific. I can imagine you now, with a shocked expression on your face, carefully looking away from me. I have my reasons, you know!
They're actually pretty good reasons, too. For example:
I can still see you rolling your eyes.
But you know what? I don't care. I'm free.
Iowa, you ask? Yes. Central Iowa to be a little more specific. Newton, Iowa to be much more specific. I can imagine you now, with a shocked expression on your face, carefully looking away from me. I have my reasons, you know!
They're actually pretty good reasons, too. For example:
- I HAD to get out of Las Vegas... It's a crappy and often scary city.
- My mom had to get out of Las Vegas. She was having over a hundred anxiety attacks a day.
- Most of my family are within a few minutes' drive from here.
- My sister is here.
- The hospital I'll be having Aiden at has the best neo-natal care in the country.
- ROADTRIP
- It's cheaper to live in Iowa.
- It's safer to drive in Iowa, so I'm a little more willing to get my license.
- I didn't really have anything holding me in Las Vegas, beyond a boyfriend.
I can still see you rolling your eyes.
But you know what? I don't care. I'm free.
1/3/11
Just a Meaningless Update
Hello again!
So, as of yesterday, I hit Week 27 in my pregnancy. "Holy crap," you might think, "She's PREGNANT??" I may be wrong, I may have posted previously. Or I may be right, I never posted, or you forgot. Either way, there it is. I'm pregnant.
And holy crap, I'm in my third trimester, too!
Which means I'm huge. And about to get even bigger really quickly.
Yay. -_-
This whole experience has been hard. Puking my guts out for four months was awesome. Then my hips split. If you've been through this, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, imagine this: the bones of your pelvis literally break away from each other, pulling muscle and sinew, realigning your back (not always for the better), and moving bones. It hurts. And in my case, my left hip never aligned properly with my spine, so during certain movements I feel the bones grinding against each other. And by "certain," I mean completely fucking random. I never know when I'm going to get wracked with pain.
But we live on.
Aiden (the Baby) is now strong enough to kick hard enough so that others can feel (and even see!) his movements. When he's awake, it's really cool to just watch my tummy bounce around. Mom was the first to feel him kick (Well, besides me), and it was so cute! Her eyes got huge and she exclaimed, "I got him!!" When Leo felt it, the look of amazement and bafflement on his face was so endearing. I think he's amazed that we made this unknown little nudger. He's becoming attached. We both are, and it makes us even *more* scared for The Big Day.
Why, you ask?
Because Aiden will not be Aiden Isaac Driscoll-Vizcarra. He's going to be Aiden Isaac Houghton. Houghton is my oldest sister's name. She and her family are going to adopt him.
Yeah. I know.
It was one of the hardest decisions I'll ever make, which makes me worry about the follow-through. I'm glad Annie's taking him, because I'll be able to watch him grow, and spoil him rotten. It also makes the commitment easier, because I can't let them down. Were the adopting parents total strangers, it probably would be easier to say "No, I want him." at the last minute. (Wow, how fucked up would that be??) Granted, I've had my moments where I just wanted to scream, "STOP! I WANT THIS BABY HE IS MINE YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM THIS IS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO NO NO NO NO NO!" But then my rational mind goes, "I thought you liked sleep? And money? And quiet? And time to yourself? I thought you wanted to have time to grow up? Have a life? Get completely smashed on your 21st guilt-free?" And all I can think is, "Damn you, rationality!"
So now, I avoid squalling and cooing and giggling and sleeping babies. I avoid situations where I'll be in close contact to a child under four. For example, you won't ever catch me in a Chuck-E-Cheese's. If there's a baby a few tables over at a restaurant, I trade places with someone so I don't have to look at it. I'll head to the other side of the store if there's a toddler throwing a fit. I get some dirty looks, but I can't exactly help it. Their kids are making me yearn for my own, which is something I need to avoid. Being at the doctor's office is torture. There's no where for me to run but the bathroom, and how rude would it be for me to sit in there for half an hour with a bunch of pregnant women right outside? So I sit with my head down, listening to the sounds of whatever my head is tuned into, which is usually an annoying loop of some song I only know three lines to.
My mom, on the other hand, isn't exactly helpful. She likes to go shopping, and I can't blame her. Her oldest three aren't going to be having many kids anymore very soon, and her youngest three aren't at ages to have kids. My oldest brother is having a baby a month before me, but they're in Iowa, so she can't help much. Which leaves me and Aiden. She will be there for his birth, will see him off when my sister and her family go back home. So she's planning on giving this kid the best and most spoiled first days of his life a kid could ask for. She's almost got him outfitted for the first six months. There are bibs, bottles, onesies, outfits, socks, shoes, caps, blankets... And when Annie gets here, they're going to pick out a transportation system. You know, the all-in-one deal with the carseat, buggy, and everything in-between. And I have been there when she bought most of it. Hell, I've even picked out a few items. Most of his stuff is frog- or dragonfly-themed (mom LOVES dragonflies.) My personal favorite so far, however is a onesie that says, "My Auntie is #1."
Because that's who I'm gonna be. Auntie Kenna. I'm also going to be his godmother, but "Godmom Kenna" is a mouthful, and doesn't have the ring Auntie Kenna does.
And not only am I going to be Aiden's Godmother, but I'm also going to be his sisters' too. He's got two sisters, Kelsey (11) and Aurora (7). ...I wasn't exactly thrilled to take on the girls as well, I kinda wanted to be Aiden's godmom solely so I could spoil him. But his parents didn't want to break up the trio, which is understandable, but I can't handle one, how am I supposed to handle three? And one's going to be a teenager soon...! ((Am I being selfish here? I feel like I am, but at the same time, I feel like I have a right to be....))
It's been hard going through what I am, but I can't imagine being in Leo's shoes... He's lived a good part of his life thinking he's never going to have kids, then BOOM here's Aiden! His face was stone at the ultrasound, but after being around him for a year and a half, I knew he was holding back tears. Dunno why, but he was (I mean why he was holding them (the tears) back, not why is he crying). He's been so supportive through this whole process. I really wish there was something I could do for him, but I can't get him to open up about it. He says he's dealing but I know there's a lot of pain. It sometimes slips through when he's tired, I'll get texts that read something like, "Let's run away. We can stay with one of my cousins until we can live on our own." And with all my heart I want to. But as I've mentioned, I just can't hurt Annie and Keith. Not like that. The excitement that poured from the speakers of my phone when I let them know they were having a son... It would break their hearts.
And they're not being totally selfish in this. They've been great, they do worry about me. Which is reassuring, but when you get asked every day, "How are you? Are you okay?" with the hidden, "You aren't going to get cold feet, are you?" it gets annoying trying to find a new way of saying, "Yes, I'm fine." But the most annoying thing to hear is how selfless I'm being, and how strong I am. I'm NOT selfless, and I'm NOT strong. Yeah, I'm giving this baby to a family who has wanted a boy since they started having kids. Yeah, I'm giving the gift of life. Yeah, I'm making sure this kid has the best damn upbringing possible. Yeah, I'm doing the right thing. Is it easy? Hell. No. Do I feel good about it? Sometimes. But it's going to destroy me. I'm talking nuclear bomb destroy. If you could look at my soul in an X-Ray, it'll look like the aftermath of Hiroshima. But hey. But those reasons weren't the reasons I decided to give my baby up for. My reasons were: I don't want to grow up now. I enjoy sleep. I want to have a car and a house and a ring on my finger before I start a family. I don't want any more kids to suffer through that bullshit they call an "education" here, least of all one of mine. I want to be able to go out an party without spending the extra $50 on a babysitter. If it doesn't work out with Leo, I want to be able to have the occasional one-night-stand without having to explain to a two-year-old what that strange man was doing in our home. And I never want to have to protect my children from an abusive boyfriend.
And honest to god, I'm not strong. This is killing me. I haven't slept in a month, and I seriously think I may have been hallucinating on Friday. I haven't slept because I've become such a light sleeper, my sister's TV will wake me up, or not let me sleep. And I threw a fit on Sunday. I mean literally, it was like I was three again. I was sobbing uncontrollably, slamming doors, hitting walls... I'm sooo glad I didn't break anything. I must have gone through half a box of tissues, and the skin around my nose and eyes was raw, sore, and chapped. I cried for nearly three hours non-stop. Goddamn hormones (though I'm sure having a sixteen-year-old living in the room next to mine wasn't the greatest idea... I tried sooo haaaard to get the other room, but alas!).
Today, I took the Glucose-Tolerance test. Which sucked. I think it's the most sucky test I've been through, and I've had a spinal tap. Its because the suck lingers. All. Day. What you do is you fast from sugar for 12 hours. Even a person without diabetes would feel icky. Then they give you some sugar water that tastes like flat orange soda, and you're forced to live for another hour without food, candy, or gum. The only thing you can consume is water. So now, because you couldn't find anything without sugar for breakfast, it's like you've had 3 more cups of coffee than you needed. I felt jittery and tired and my muscles were hurting. And the icky lasts for the rest of the day... You don't get a break from it after you eat. It really, really sucks. (They draw your blood after an hour. I don't consider this sucky, as needles and such don't bother me.) I thought I was going to faint a couple of times in the waiting room.
Well, it's nearly midnight, and time for me to get off. TTYL!
So, as of yesterday, I hit Week 27 in my pregnancy. "Holy crap," you might think, "She's PREGNANT??" I may be wrong, I may have posted previously. Or I may be right, I never posted, or you forgot. Either way, there it is. I'm pregnant.
And holy crap, I'm in my third trimester, too!
Which means I'm huge. And about to get even bigger really quickly.
Yay. -_-
This whole experience has been hard. Puking my guts out for four months was awesome. Then my hips split. If you've been through this, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, imagine this: the bones of your pelvis literally break away from each other, pulling muscle and sinew, realigning your back (not always for the better), and moving bones. It hurts. And in my case, my left hip never aligned properly with my spine, so during certain movements I feel the bones grinding against each other. And by "certain," I mean completely fucking random. I never know when I'm going to get wracked with pain.
But we live on.
Aiden (the Baby) is now strong enough to kick hard enough so that others can feel (and even see!) his movements. When he's awake, it's really cool to just watch my tummy bounce around. Mom was the first to feel him kick (Well, besides me), and it was so cute! Her eyes got huge and she exclaimed, "I got him!!" When Leo felt it, the look of amazement and bafflement on his face was so endearing. I think he's amazed that we made this unknown little nudger. He's becoming attached. We both are, and it makes us even *more* scared for The Big Day.
Why, you ask?
Because Aiden will not be Aiden Isaac Driscoll-Vizcarra. He's going to be Aiden Isaac Houghton. Houghton is my oldest sister's name. She and her family are going to adopt him.
Yeah. I know.
It was one of the hardest decisions I'll ever make, which makes me worry about the follow-through. I'm glad Annie's taking him, because I'll be able to watch him grow, and spoil him rotten. It also makes the commitment easier, because I can't let them down. Were the adopting parents total strangers, it probably would be easier to say "No, I want him." at the last minute. (Wow, how fucked up would that be??) Granted, I've had my moments where I just wanted to scream, "STOP! I WANT THIS BABY HE IS MINE YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM THIS IS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO NO NO NO NO NO!" But then my rational mind goes, "I thought you liked sleep? And money? And quiet? And time to yourself? I thought you wanted to have time to grow up? Have a life? Get completely smashed on your 21st guilt-free?" And all I can think is, "Damn you, rationality!"
So now, I avoid squalling and cooing and giggling and sleeping babies. I avoid situations where I'll be in close contact to a child under four. For example, you won't ever catch me in a Chuck-E-Cheese's. If there's a baby a few tables over at a restaurant, I trade places with someone so I don't have to look at it. I'll head to the other side of the store if there's a toddler throwing a fit. I get some dirty looks, but I can't exactly help it. Their kids are making me yearn for my own, which is something I need to avoid. Being at the doctor's office is torture. There's no where for me to run but the bathroom, and how rude would it be for me to sit in there for half an hour with a bunch of pregnant women right outside? So I sit with my head down, listening to the sounds of whatever my head is tuned into, which is usually an annoying loop of some song I only know three lines to.
My mom, on the other hand, isn't exactly helpful. She likes to go shopping, and I can't blame her. Her oldest three aren't going to be having many kids anymore very soon, and her youngest three aren't at ages to have kids. My oldest brother is having a baby a month before me, but they're in Iowa, so she can't help much. Which leaves me and Aiden. She will be there for his birth, will see him off when my sister and her family go back home. So she's planning on giving this kid the best and most spoiled first days of his life a kid could ask for. She's almost got him outfitted for the first six months. There are bibs, bottles, onesies, outfits, socks, shoes, caps, blankets... And when Annie gets here, they're going to pick out a transportation system. You know, the all-in-one deal with the carseat, buggy, and everything in-between. And I have been there when she bought most of it. Hell, I've even picked out a few items. Most of his stuff is frog- or dragonfly-themed (mom LOVES dragonflies.) My personal favorite so far, however is a onesie that says, "My Auntie is #1."
Because that's who I'm gonna be. Auntie Kenna. I'm also going to be his godmother, but "Godmom Kenna" is a mouthful, and doesn't have the ring Auntie Kenna does.
And not only am I going to be Aiden's Godmother, but I'm also going to be his sisters' too. He's got two sisters, Kelsey (11) and Aurora (7). ...I wasn't exactly thrilled to take on the girls as well, I kinda wanted to be Aiden's godmom solely so I could spoil him. But his parents didn't want to break up the trio, which is understandable, but I can't handle one, how am I supposed to handle three? And one's going to be a teenager soon...! ((Am I being selfish here? I feel like I am, but at the same time, I feel like I have a right to be....))
It's been hard going through what I am, but I can't imagine being in Leo's shoes... He's lived a good part of his life thinking he's never going to have kids, then BOOM here's Aiden! His face was stone at the ultrasound, but after being around him for a year and a half, I knew he was holding back tears. Dunno why, but he was (I mean why he was holding them (the tears) back, not why is he crying). He's been so supportive through this whole process. I really wish there was something I could do for him, but I can't get him to open up about it. He says he's dealing but I know there's a lot of pain. It sometimes slips through when he's tired, I'll get texts that read something like, "Let's run away. We can stay with one of my cousins until we can live on our own." And with all my heart I want to. But as I've mentioned, I just can't hurt Annie and Keith. Not like that. The excitement that poured from the speakers of my phone when I let them know they were having a son... It would break their hearts.
And they're not being totally selfish in this. They've been great, they do worry about me. Which is reassuring, but when you get asked every day, "How are you? Are you okay?" with the hidden, "You aren't going to get cold feet, are you?" it gets annoying trying to find a new way of saying, "Yes, I'm fine." But the most annoying thing to hear is how selfless I'm being, and how strong I am. I'm NOT selfless, and I'm NOT strong. Yeah, I'm giving this baby to a family who has wanted a boy since they started having kids. Yeah, I'm giving the gift of life. Yeah, I'm making sure this kid has the best damn upbringing possible. Yeah, I'm doing the right thing. Is it easy? Hell. No. Do I feel good about it? Sometimes. But it's going to destroy me. I'm talking nuclear bomb destroy. If you could look at my soul in an X-Ray, it'll look like the aftermath of Hiroshima. But hey. But those reasons weren't the reasons I decided to give my baby up for. My reasons were: I don't want to grow up now. I enjoy sleep. I want to have a car and a house and a ring on my finger before I start a family. I don't want any more kids to suffer through that bullshit they call an "education" here, least of all one of mine. I want to be able to go out an party without spending the extra $50 on a babysitter. If it doesn't work out with Leo, I want to be able to have the occasional one-night-stand without having to explain to a two-year-old what that strange man was doing in our home. And I never want to have to protect my children from an abusive boyfriend.
And honest to god, I'm not strong. This is killing me. I haven't slept in a month, and I seriously think I may have been hallucinating on Friday. I haven't slept because I've become such a light sleeper, my sister's TV will wake me up, or not let me sleep. And I threw a fit on Sunday. I mean literally, it was like I was three again. I was sobbing uncontrollably, slamming doors, hitting walls... I'm sooo glad I didn't break anything. I must have gone through half a box of tissues, and the skin around my nose and eyes was raw, sore, and chapped. I cried for nearly three hours non-stop. Goddamn hormones (though I'm sure having a sixteen-year-old living in the room next to mine wasn't the greatest idea... I tried sooo haaaard to get the other room, but alas!).
Today, I took the Glucose-Tolerance test. Which sucked. I think it's the most sucky test I've been through, and I've had a spinal tap. Its because the suck lingers. All. Day. What you do is you fast from sugar for 12 hours. Even a person without diabetes would feel icky. Then they give you some sugar water that tastes like flat orange soda, and you're forced to live for another hour without food, candy, or gum. The only thing you can consume is water. So now, because you couldn't find anything without sugar for breakfast, it's like you've had 3 more cups of coffee than you needed. I felt jittery and tired and my muscles were hurting. And the icky lasts for the rest of the day... You don't get a break from it after you eat. It really, really sucks. (They draw your blood after an hour. I don't consider this sucky, as needles and such don't bother me.) I thought I was going to faint a couple of times in the waiting room.
Well, it's nearly midnight, and time for me to get off. TTYL!
11/25/10
A LOT of news.
I am pregnant. I am due April 6, 2011. It is a boy. His name will be Aiden Isaac Houghton. I hate being pregnant.
I cry all the time. For small reasons, big reasons, and sometimes, no reason at all. It's so frustrating! I'm NOT a crier! I don't like crying.
I'm constantly hungry, and some of my favorite foods have become major no-no's. Anything with onions, for example. And not because they're bad for me or the baby, but because my body rejects onions. Also, anything cooked in vegetable oil. I can't even stand the smell of cooking vegetable oil or margerine. It smells/tastes like burning garbage to me.
I'm easily nauseated. Cigarette smoke, cooking vegetable oil or margerine, certain colognes, the THOUGHT of mayonnaise (I can still eat it, but I can't look at it or think about it), onions, even certain movements make me want to throw up.
I'm fat. I feel fat, which is the worst part. Oh, and I can't afford to buy food, let alone maternity clothes.
My boyfriend's family hates me because I chose to sign the parental rights to my oldest sister without their consent.
Oh, right. I'm adopting. So even though I'm suffering through all of this bullshit, I don't even get to take home my baby boy. (Cue the tears) I only get the scars of the pregnancy, both physical and emotional, and a new nephew, who will grow up 1500 miles away from me.
I'm tired of people's pity. I'm tired of hearing that I'm doing the right thing. I'm tired of people telling me how responsible and unselfish I am for my choice. Because I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. I don't want to lose him. I want him to be mine. I love feeling him move around in my womb. I love talking to him, murmuring little nothings to him. I want to hold him in my arms and feed him.
Phone call. Going to finish this later.
I cry all the time. For small reasons, big reasons, and sometimes, no reason at all. It's so frustrating! I'm NOT a crier! I don't like crying.
I'm constantly hungry, and some of my favorite foods have become major no-no's. Anything with onions, for example. And not because they're bad for me or the baby, but because my body rejects onions. Also, anything cooked in vegetable oil. I can't even stand the smell of cooking vegetable oil or margerine. It smells/tastes like burning garbage to me.
I'm easily nauseated. Cigarette smoke, cooking vegetable oil or margerine, certain colognes, the THOUGHT of mayonnaise (I can still eat it, but I can't look at it or think about it), onions, even certain movements make me want to throw up.
I'm fat. I feel fat, which is the worst part. Oh, and I can't afford to buy food, let alone maternity clothes.
My boyfriend's family hates me because I chose to sign the parental rights to my oldest sister without their consent.
Oh, right. I'm adopting. So even though I'm suffering through all of this bullshit, I don't even get to take home my baby boy. (Cue the tears) I only get the scars of the pregnancy, both physical and emotional, and a new nephew, who will grow up 1500 miles away from me.
I'm tired of people's pity. I'm tired of hearing that I'm doing the right thing. I'm tired of people telling me how responsible and unselfish I am for my choice. Because I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. I don't want to lose him. I want him to be mine. I love feeling him move around in my womb. I love talking to him, murmuring little nothings to him. I want to hold him in my arms and feed him.
Phone call. Going to finish this later.
6/24/10
A Shock
So, I'm not going to say much right now, but I just found out that a close friend of mine will be in jail for a really long time. You think you know someone, and then... It's like getting punched in the gut. All the wind is knocked out of you, you feel shaky, dizzy, and somewhat disoriented. I also feel kinda lost and fuzzy (but not in a good way, and I can't shave it off).
So, I haven't written in a while. Again. Oh well. It's not like anyone reads this. It's practically private.
Leo told me I could get a cat or kitten (finally!) so I've been looking for one. I've found some on Craigslist that are really cute, but I'd rather meet them before choosing. You gotta know which one will fit for the rest of your lives, you know? I'd LIKE to get one from the pound, but that's a lot more expensive, and we don't have transportation.
I'm restless. I'll write later.
6/17/10
A God I can get behind
Okay, I'm freaking out. Like, completely. If you looked at me, you'd be "Oh, she's just sitting in front of her computer, she doesn't look any different than usual." but inside, there's a four-ish-year-old FREAKING OUT.
When I get so incredibly bored with Facebook and Twitter that I'm about to pound my head against the wall, I resort to an old favorite insomnia-inducing browsing program called "StumbleUpon." It's a surfer's crack.
Well, I stumbled upon an article that I would never have found online with out SU. In fact, I'm pretty inclined to believe it was Fate that a little under a year ago a friend told me to get Stumbling, and that tonight I would find this article. Or maybe it was luck. Who knows? Who really cares?
Anyways, I found this... article? IDK what you would call it... about this dude who's in the subway, and is interrupted by this "thirty something white male" who calls himself God, and proves it by giving him personal information that no one else could possibly know, including his wife.
So he's convinced, and starts having a conversation about evolution, God, mankind, and how it's all intertwined. My favorite parts are about God himself. For most of my short, 19 year old life, I have refused to believe that God was omnipotent, wanted us to go to Church every Sunday, pray every night and morning, follow strict rules, and read my scriptures every day. Because who would enjoy a game of SIMS if that's what their lives composed of, worshiping you? And it might be awesome for the first few days of playing it, but could you imagine enduring it for billions of years???? I know I'd be like, "Dudes, come ON get a frickin' LIFE already! I'm OVER IT!"
Anyways, so this dude is talking about how he had NOTHING to do with the bible, Ten Commandments, or any organized religion. In fact, the last time he "interfered" was when he blew the dinosaurs into smithereens so that mammals could grow and then take over the earth. Because, come on, can YOU imagine a T-Rex in a labcoat doing experiments on bunnies instead of eating them? I can't.
Gack. I'm tired. I forgot where I was going with this. Here's the link: http://www.fullmoon.nu/articles/art.php?id=tal
Have a good night...
4/23/10
My response to: Social security taking $52 of my $56 in overtime
I hate the Social Security tax.
To me, it doesn't make sense.
Why am I paying my entire overtime check for the improbable promise that I'll someday see it again in the form of checks from the government? According to statistics, I'm never going to see that money again because some idiot president saw the Social Security bank account and went, "I need to fund a war. But how? *evil grin* I know! I'll steal it from generations to come!" In an odd way, this dude stole money from the future. Yeah, he stole it and used it then, but the elderly people then weren't feeling the loss. MY generation will. Yet I'm still paying the damn tax.
Don't get me wrong. I know and understand that the old people who get the money from Social Security can't pay that tax; they aren't getting a whole hell of a lot of money form Social Security anyways... More than I am, but then again, what's the point of getting money from Social Security then turning around and paying them? (It's like teachers and policemen... Their checks are signed by taxpayers' dollars, and yet they still pay the taxes. It doesn't make sense.)
I blame the government for being idiots.
The “American Standard” of living is I want it- NOW. It’s what they call “Instant Gratification.” Don’t think about the consequences! Live in the NOW! Go with the flow, man! And it seems like all politicians are only concerned with instant gratification. Have you seen the cars they drive??!? Seeing the Hummers and the luxury cars with the gov’t license plates makes me nervous. If they can’t spend their own money responsibly, how well do you think they’re going to spend your tax dollars? Seeing a senator in an old, used-three-times-over, beat-up Oldsmobile would make me feel a lot more comfortable. I’m just sayin’.
To me, it doesn't make sense.
Why am I paying my entire overtime check for the improbable promise that I'll someday see it again in the form of checks from the government? According to statistics, I'm never going to see that money again because some idiot president saw the Social Security bank account and went, "I need to fund a war. But how? *evil grin* I know! I'll steal it from generations to come!" In an odd way, this dude stole money from the future. Yeah, he stole it and used it then, but the elderly people then weren't feeling the loss. MY generation will. Yet I'm still paying the damn tax.
Don't get me wrong. I know and understand that the old people who get the money from Social Security can't pay that tax; they aren't getting a whole hell of a lot of money form Social Security anyways... More than I am, but then again, what's the point of getting money from Social Security then turning around and paying them? (It's like teachers and policemen... Their checks are signed by taxpayers' dollars, and yet they still pay the taxes. It doesn't make sense.)
I blame the government for being idiots.
The “American Standard” of living is I want it- NOW. It’s what they call “Instant Gratification.” Don’t think about the consequences! Live in the NOW! Go with the flow, man! And it seems like all politicians are only concerned with instant gratification. Have you seen the cars they drive??!? Seeing the Hummers and the luxury cars with the gov’t license plates makes me nervous. If they can’t spend their own money responsibly, how well do you think they’re going to spend your tax dollars? Seeing a senator in an old, used-three-times-over, beat-up Oldsmobile would make me feel a lot more comfortable. I’m just sayin’.
4/18/10
Just a ditty...
This is just something I was working on tonight... I don't have Microsoft Office on this computer, so I don't have a way to save it. So... Enjoy. Maybe I'll get around to turning it into something more someday.
For weeks now, since she had been accused, she had felt a presence. At night, as she lay awake pondering her shortened future, she knew someone-or something-was watching over her. She only had to wait a few days longer before she could see more than the small expanse of sky her tiny barred window would allow her, and during that time, it would be fleeting. She hoped she would see The Presence.
As the days lagged on, she started talking to it. It didn't matter whether anyone heard her. She was simply lonely. Wearing nothing but her ragged shift, she was cold, but talking about everything and nothing kept her mind off the chill. She would not die here.
Then the morning came when she would no longer have to wait. She wakened from the sound of the village gathered around the hole that was her prison. The door was opened, and a ladder was shoved in. The leader of the witch hunters barked at her to hurry up, they hadn't all day! She slowly crawled to the ladder and pulled herself up. Such large movement was difficult; living on naught but stale bread and dirty water for a month wasn't enough to sustain a fully-grown woman right after giving birth.
Slowly and shakily, she climbed the ladder. Rough hands grabbed at her, and she allowed them to pull her up. The sun was so bright compared to the dingy hole. It torched her eyes through her eyelids and seared her skin.
They dragged her to the pillory located in the tiny town square, and tied her there, facing the sun. They didn't bother to cover her, and the shift she was in had been ripped and torn even more than before by the angry people. If she wasn't already naked, she felt like it.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she heard the wail of a newborn, the high, cracking screech of a babe just from the womb. Hers? There were only three babies in the whole village, and the tiny village was so secluded that not even for the novelty of seeing the destruction of a purported witch would bring in more people.
4/14/10
A Few Questions About a Higher Reality
As you may have guessed, this blog is pretty random, not focused on one specific topic. And I like it that way. It screams "MAKENNA!!!!!," more so than if I just posted pictures of pretty foods. Or nasty foods. Or any one topic, for that matter. It's just my style. My blog is not a part of any organization. Well, it is a part of the blogosphere, and is hosted on Blogspot, but hey.
My blog is like my belief system. Or lack thereof... I am a part of no organized religion, and my thoughts on “IT” all are pretty random. But that's not saying I don't believe in a god. Or gods. Or some higher entity. Some days, I pray to one God, the Christian God. Other days I pray to all gods, from Athena to Thor to Zeus to Erishkegal(sp?) to any number of nameless gods.
One of my great friends, Roger, loaned me a book called American Gods. It was a neat little novel about how the old gods are struggling to survive in a world where they no longer are worshipped in favor of the new gods (internet, cable TV, drugs, money, ect.), and the new gods want to eradicate the old ones for power. One of my favorite parts of the book was when Wednesday (the main god) told us HOW gods came to be. Through the power of imagination and worship. A new god is born every day, when something is suddenly loved and in a way, worshipped. A deity is created. I think this is awesome.
The 12-Step Program designed for AA, NA, OA, ect. States that you need a higher power, and that you have to let everything go to it. YOU are not in control. IT is. So drop it. However, the Program doesn’t state anywhere that your Higher Power HAS to be God. Or a God. For all they care, your higher power could be your favorite desk ornament in your work office (though they do recommend it be god. Or some sort of entity, and not an inanimate object. Could you imagine seeing someone praying to a small knick-knack in like, a doctors office? That would be weird).
The matter of the afterlife is next. I don’t get it. There’s no way of knowing what the afterlife holds for us. Technically, if there is an afterlife we have to have souls, right? And you can’t evolve to have a soul. That doesn’t make sense. So were we created to have one? But then you have to believe in Adam and Eve and/or Creationism. But science says that Creationism isn’t possible: we have evidence that proves otherwise. Like dinosaurs and fossils that show evolution.
Are you confused yet?
Then there’s the matter of ghosts. HOW many theories have you heard on that subject? Why ghosts are here. How you get them to leave. Poltergeists. Why only certain people can effectively communicate with them. Why there are mean ghosts. Why children and teenage girls are most likely to get visits from them. Why there are nice ghosts. Why they stayed here on earth instead of going on to the afterlife. How to communicate with them. That they can walk on Halloween. Are they even real. Are the ghosts we see and hear and know they’re there the only ones there, or are they just the strongest? What are ghosts? Why are they there? And the questions go on and on and on…
Science hasn’t been able to give us answers yet. To any of the questions about ghosts and God and souls. So just like religion, we must have faith that these things are there. Or not there. Whatever.
I was raised LDS. Mormon. Mo-Mo. Baptized on my eighth birthday. I left when I was 16, and dabbled in Pagan practices/ “witchcraft” (my own special brand). In other words, I was nuts. Now? I don’t know what to believe. One of my favorite quotes is from House. I don’t want to misquote it, so I’ll just paraphrase for right now. Cameron says that she doesn’t believe in God because if there was actually something out there, the Human Race wouldn’t even have the capacity to fathom what “IT” really was. Which is really true. Why do we think we know what God wants? If he really is “IT,” how the hell could we, as humans, even begin to imagine His great wants, and needs? What if he actually does want virgin sacrifices? In this day-and-age, he can’t exactly tell a “prophet” such… The Catholics would denounce him, call him a pagan and a heretic, the Mormons would freak out, and the Westboro Baptists would probably either join in or picket about how people are going crazy because we’ve let ‘fags’ into our society. This man would be tried for either murder or attempted murder, and would be locked up in some sort of asylum or given the death sentence.
There’s always that one person, without fail, who always brings God or Jesus into the conversation. Go read any semi-political article on Yahoo. There’s always that ONE PERSON who says something about how God has his hands in everything, good or bad; or how Jesus saved us, so WHY did this happen? or blames the Devil as to Why. Okay, now that just pisses me off. God gave us a present called Free Agency. That means we all have a CHOICE. To be and to do whatever the hell we want. For a reason. We will never fathom this reason, but I’m sure He (or She) has one. So just drop it.
There is also those people whose Facebook and Twitter statuses are always about how God is so great and has blessed them, and how Jesus loves us soooo much he died for us, ect. Good for you, bible thumpers. Now get OFF of my page!!! (I’m sure I’m going to get shit about saying that…)
Okay, I’m done with my rant for now. TTYL.
My blog is like my belief system. Or lack thereof... I am a part of no organized religion, and my thoughts on “IT” all are pretty random. But that's not saying I don't believe in a god. Or gods. Or some higher entity. Some days, I pray to one God, the Christian God. Other days I pray to all gods, from Athena to Thor to Zeus to Erishkegal(sp?) to any number of nameless gods.
One of my great friends, Roger, loaned me a book called American Gods. It was a neat little novel about how the old gods are struggling to survive in a world where they no longer are worshipped in favor of the new gods (internet, cable TV, drugs, money, ect.), and the new gods want to eradicate the old ones for power. One of my favorite parts of the book was when Wednesday (the main god) told us HOW gods came to be. Through the power of imagination and worship. A new god is born every day, when something is suddenly loved and in a way, worshipped. A deity is created. I think this is awesome.
The 12-Step Program designed for AA, NA, OA, ect. States that you need a higher power, and that you have to let everything go to it. YOU are not in control. IT is. So drop it. However, the Program doesn’t state anywhere that your Higher Power HAS to be God. Or a God. For all they care, your higher power could be your favorite desk ornament in your work office (though they do recommend it be god. Or some sort of entity, and not an inanimate object. Could you imagine seeing someone praying to a small knick-knack in like, a doctors office? That would be weird).
The matter of the afterlife is next. I don’t get it. There’s no way of knowing what the afterlife holds for us. Technically, if there is an afterlife we have to have souls, right? And you can’t evolve to have a soul. That doesn’t make sense. So were we created to have one? But then you have to believe in Adam and Eve and/or Creationism. But science says that Creationism isn’t possible: we have evidence that proves otherwise. Like dinosaurs and fossils that show evolution.
Are you confused yet?
Then there’s the matter of ghosts. HOW many theories have you heard on that subject? Why ghosts are here. How you get them to leave. Poltergeists. Why only certain people can effectively communicate with them. Why there are mean ghosts. Why children and teenage girls are most likely to get visits from them. Why there are nice ghosts. Why they stayed here on earth instead of going on to the afterlife. How to communicate with them. That they can walk on Halloween. Are they even real. Are the ghosts we see and hear and know they’re there the only ones there, or are they just the strongest? What are ghosts? Why are they there? And the questions go on and on and on…
Science hasn’t been able to give us answers yet. To any of the questions about ghosts and God and souls. So just like religion, we must have faith that these things are there. Or not there. Whatever.
I was raised LDS. Mormon. Mo-Mo. Baptized on my eighth birthday. I left when I was 16, and dabbled in Pagan practices/ “witchcraft” (my own special brand). In other words, I was nuts. Now? I don’t know what to believe. One of my favorite quotes is from House. I don’t want to misquote it, so I’ll just paraphrase for right now. Cameron says that she doesn’t believe in God because if there was actually something out there, the Human Race wouldn’t even have the capacity to fathom what “IT” really was. Which is really true. Why do we think we know what God wants? If he really is “IT,” how the hell could we, as humans, even begin to imagine His great wants, and needs? What if he actually does want virgin sacrifices? In this day-and-age, he can’t exactly tell a “prophet” such… The Catholics would denounce him, call him a pagan and a heretic, the Mormons would freak out, and the Westboro Baptists would probably either join in or picket about how people are going crazy because we’ve let ‘fags’ into our society. This man would be tried for either murder or attempted murder, and would be locked up in some sort of asylum or given the death sentence.
There’s always that one person, without fail, who always brings God or Jesus into the conversation. Go read any semi-political article on Yahoo. There’s always that ONE PERSON who says something about how God has his hands in everything, good or bad; or how Jesus saved us, so WHY did this happen? or blames the Devil as to Why. Okay, now that just pisses me off. God gave us a present called Free Agency. That means we all have a CHOICE. To be and to do whatever the hell we want. For a reason. We will never fathom this reason, but I’m sure He (or She) has one. So just drop it.
There is also those people whose Facebook and Twitter statuses are always about how God is so great and has blessed them, and how Jesus loves us soooo much he died for us, ect. Good for you, bible thumpers. Now get OFF of my page!!! (I’m sure I’m going to get shit about saying that…)
Okay, I’m done with my rant for now. TTYL.
4/8/10
RTC Southern Nevada
I ride the bus. Different times on different days, but it's a pretty regular schedule. Two days out of the week, I ride in late morning and at night, and on three days I ride in early morning and mid-evening. When going home from work, I have to cross nearly 12 lanes of traffic (two roads that are perpendicular) to get to my bus stop. This late in the evening, most drivers in the area (I have found) are men. Perverted men. Who like young women. Like me.
I have found myself to be the recipient of many shouts ((These have all been altered to be grammatically correct) "Hey Baby! Can I get your number?" "Hey, Sexy, wanna come home with me?" "Need a ride, Sweetheart?" etc.), even more honks, and the occasional physical vulgarity. No one has attempted to touch me inappropriately, but I have a feeling that this happening is just around the corner, as the incidents are becoming increasingly worse.
Just last night, while I was crossing the second street to get to my bus stop, two men in a beat-up compact car tried to get my attention. First they honked, then flashed their brights at me, and when I passed their car at the turn, started asking for my name and number. When I ignored them, I heard a car door open, and hurried footsteps coming towards me. A car honked, and the footsteps receded. Needless to say, this was terrifying. I didn't look back to see if it was one of the men in the car, as that would show acknowledgement. Which is not good on my end.
Then on the bus (late as usual), another man asked me for my number. Again, I ducked my head and ignored him, as politely as I could, hoping he had seen my earbuds and took my non-response as that I couldn't hear him.
I am so sick of this. I'm not pretty. I don't have a great body (that's not as statement of opinion, I love my body, and am very comfortable in my own skin. I'm just big-er. "Voluptuous in some of the wrong places" is one way of putting it, I guess.) . So when I get this unwarranted interest, I can't help but think that these men are either desperate or perverted, and see me as nothing but a pair of boobs and a warm place to stick their pecker. It's disgusting, insulting, and inappropriate.
It can also be dangerous. Any one of these jerks can follow my bus and wait till I get off, and during the five to seven minute walk home can attempt to fulfill his perversion. I'm sure that this has happened to someone, somewhere. And to be honest, I'm afraid it can and will happen to me.
Unfortunately, there really is no solution to this problem. I could have my boyfriend ride the bus back and forth with me; get a car or a moped (however, no money for these options), and my license; but what about the other women who are subjected to this? Who have the same fears I do?
I have found myself to be the recipient of many shouts ((These have all been altered to be grammatically correct) "Hey Baby! Can I get your number?" "Hey, Sexy, wanna come home with me?" "Need a ride, Sweetheart?" etc.), even more honks, and the occasional physical vulgarity. No one has attempted to touch me inappropriately, but I have a feeling that this happening is just around the corner, as the incidents are becoming increasingly worse.
Just last night, while I was crossing the second street to get to my bus stop, two men in a beat-up compact car tried to get my attention. First they honked, then flashed their brights at me, and when I passed their car at the turn, started asking for my name and number. When I ignored them, I heard a car door open, and hurried footsteps coming towards me. A car honked, and the footsteps receded. Needless to say, this was terrifying. I didn't look back to see if it was one of the men in the car, as that would show acknowledgement. Which is not good on my end.
Then on the bus (late as usual), another man asked me for my number. Again, I ducked my head and ignored him, as politely as I could, hoping he had seen my earbuds and took my non-response as that I couldn't hear him.
I am so sick of this. I'm not pretty. I don't have a great body (that's not as statement of opinion, I love my body, and am very comfortable in my own skin. I'm just big-er. "Voluptuous in some of the wrong places" is one way of putting it, I guess.) . So when I get this unwarranted interest, I can't help but think that these men are either desperate or perverted, and see me as nothing but a pair of boobs and a warm place to stick their pecker. It's disgusting, insulting, and inappropriate.
It can also be dangerous. Any one of these jerks can follow my bus and wait till I get off, and during the five to seven minute walk home can attempt to fulfill his perversion. I'm sure that this has happened to someone, somewhere. And to be honest, I'm afraid it can and will happen to me.
Unfortunately, there really is no solution to this problem. I could have my boyfriend ride the bus back and forth with me; get a car or a moped (however, no money for these options), and my license; but what about the other women who are subjected to this? Who have the same fears I do?
Another About Me
Since I couldn't for the life of me figure out what to write about today, I figured that since I haven't been writing much lately, you probably have no clue who I am anymore (if you even knew who I was then...). My name is Makenna, though if you look in the sidebar, I'm sure it's there somewhere. I'm 19, and live in Las Vegas, which means if I'm not at work, I'm at home, because there is absolutely NOTHING to do in this city that doesn't involve the 21+ age limit and/or exorbitant amounts of money, which I don't have. Or I'm gaming every other Saturday.
I'm a receptionist at a college called High-Tech Institute. It's ironic, isn't it? I've never taken classes at college, but I get a bi-weekly paycheck from one.
I don't have a car. I never have, and it's looking to be that I never will, at least till I have a) a better job or b) children. I ride the bus to and from work every weekday, and the occasional Saturday.
I don't believe in anonymity, unless you're doing something for the interest of others, and your putting your personal life at risk. Take for instance, Mrs. Q, who is blogging about the student lunches at her school. She is buying a student lunch for $3.00 every day, taking a picture of it, and then telling us about her experience with the food, describing tastes, flavors, negative/positive side effects, and her fears, inviting others to comment with experiences, or even be a guest blogger. Her job and livelihood are at stake, as well as the livelihood of her family. That is what anonymity is for. If you're trolling or flaming under anonymity, that's just fear, and there's no excuse for that.
I am in a relationship, sorry boys. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to have his info put out into the public domain, so the only thing I'm going to tell you about him is that his name is Leo. I'm sure that from some of my posts, you can deduce more about him, but I'm not too terribly worried about that.
I think I've just figured out what I'm going to write for today. See in next post.
I'm a receptionist at a college called High-Tech Institute. It's ironic, isn't it? I've never taken classes at college, but I get a bi-weekly paycheck from one.
I don't have a car. I never have, and it's looking to be that I never will, at least till I have a) a better job or b) children. I ride the bus to and from work every weekday, and the occasional Saturday.
I don't believe in anonymity, unless you're doing something for the interest of others, and your putting your personal life at risk. Take for instance, Mrs. Q, who is blogging about the student lunches at her school. She is buying a student lunch for $3.00 every day, taking a picture of it, and then telling us about her experience with the food, describing tastes, flavors, negative/positive side effects, and her fears, inviting others to comment with experiences, or even be a guest blogger. Her job and livelihood are at stake, as well as the livelihood of her family. That is what anonymity is for. If you're trolling or flaming under anonymity, that's just fear, and there's no excuse for that.
I am in a relationship, sorry boys. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to have his info put out into the public domain, so the only thing I'm going to tell you about him is that his name is Leo. I'm sure that from some of my posts, you can deduce more about him, but I'm not too terribly worried about that.
I think I've just figured out what I'm going to write for today. See in next post.
4/5/10
Devotion.
With the odd schedule that accompanies my job, I find myself riding the bus at 6:00 in the morning occasionally. And on those days, I get to witness Love, with a capital 'L.'
There is a man that rides the same bus I do on these occasional days. He's tall, dresses cleanly and respectably, is black, and looks to be in his early 30's. Every morning, he stands and waits patiently for the bus.
There is a woman who also waits patiently for the bus every morning. She's a little shorter than I, looks as though she's wearing her pants on over her pajamas, wears plain white shoes, looks to be in her mid-40's, and has an overall feel of frumpiness to her.
These two don't really interact while waiting. There is no holding hands, no kisses, no fond looks (they hardly look at eachother). But at about 6:05 (three minutes before the bus arrives), she turns to him, and him to her, she smiles, waves, (occasionally gives him a peck) and runs back across the street (five lanes of traffic) and into the apartment complex. I often watch these two from the corner of my eye. I don't mean to be rude, but it's an interesting situation.
I find the situation interesting because I can't tell the what the relationship between these two is. Are theyHusband and wife? Neither of them wear any rings that I know of, but they usually keep their hands in their pockets. It's been a cold winter... Mother and son? Lovers? Brother and sister? Hell, in this city, it could be a pimp and his ho.
I had a huge urge to ask this morning what was going on. But I am honestly afraid that they are a pimp and his ho, and that would just ruin the magic for me. In my mind, I've got this fantasy where they are husband and wife, completely devoted to eachother. He has to be at work early, and she wants to spend as much time as possible with him, so when he's done showering and dressing, he wakes her up, and starts making breakfast, while she gets dressed enough she doesn't freeze. After breakfast, they walk down to the bus stop, and spend what time they can just being in the presence of eachother. But alas!, she has to start getting ready for her day, and has to go home.
Yeah, I know.... sappy. But still. I wish I had someone that devoted to me, to wake up at five in the morning, just to spend time with me. That's why it's called a 'fantasy'. Because it's likely to never happen, unless he also has to wake up at five for some reason.
Don't get me wrong; Leo and I love eachother, and love spending time together, and, again, I realize that five in the morning is waaay too early. (A favorite saying of mine, usually heard around 10 'o-clock, is "...No one should have to be awake at this Godforsaken hour...") But it feels that a quick, "I-love-you-have-a-good-day" and a small, half-awake kiss just isn't enough to last through the long, eight-hour workday. IDK, maybe I'm clingy?
I'm going to commit to writing at LEAST once a week, on something... Whether it's just a rant on my day-to-day life (buses, ferrets who don't know what "no" is, cigarettes, Obama, ect.), noting little miracles (gotta love the little things), or giving my opinion on an article. TTYL.
There is a man that rides the same bus I do on these occasional days. He's tall, dresses cleanly and respectably, is black, and looks to be in his early 30's. Every morning, he stands and waits patiently for the bus.
There is a woman who also waits patiently for the bus every morning. She's a little shorter than I, looks as though she's wearing her pants on over her pajamas, wears plain white shoes, looks to be in her mid-40's, and has an overall feel of frumpiness to her.
These two don't really interact while waiting. There is no holding hands, no kisses, no fond looks (they hardly look at eachother). But at about 6:05 (three minutes before the bus arrives), she turns to him, and him to her, she smiles, waves, (occasionally gives him a peck) and runs back across the street (five lanes of traffic) and into the apartment complex. I often watch these two from the corner of my eye. I don't mean to be rude, but it's an interesting situation.
I find the situation interesting because I can't tell the what the relationship between these two is. Are theyHusband and wife? Neither of them wear any rings that I know of, but they usually keep their hands in their pockets. It's been a cold winter... Mother and son? Lovers? Brother and sister? Hell, in this city, it could be a pimp and his ho.
I had a huge urge to ask this morning what was going on. But I am honestly afraid that they are a pimp and his ho, and that would just ruin the magic for me. In my mind, I've got this fantasy where they are husband and wife, completely devoted to eachother. He has to be at work early, and she wants to spend as much time as possible with him, so when he's done showering and dressing, he wakes her up, and starts making breakfast, while she gets dressed enough she doesn't freeze. After breakfast, they walk down to the bus stop, and spend what time they can just being in the presence of eachother. But alas!, she has to start getting ready for her day, and has to go home.
Yeah, I know.... sappy. But still. I wish I had someone that devoted to me, to wake up at five in the morning, just to spend time with me. That's why it's called a 'fantasy'. Because it's likely to never happen, unless he also has to wake up at five for some reason.
Don't get me wrong; Leo and I love eachother, and love spending time together, and, again, I realize that five in the morning is waaay too early. (A favorite saying of mine, usually heard around 10 'o-clock, is "...No one should have to be awake at this Godforsaken hour...") But it feels that a quick, "I-love-you-have-a-good-day" and a small, half-awake kiss just isn't enough to last through the long, eight-hour workday. IDK, maybe I'm clingy?
I'm going to commit to writing at LEAST once a week, on something... Whether it's just a rant on my day-to-day life (buses, ferrets who don't know what "no" is, cigarettes, Obama, ect.), noting little miracles (gotta love the little things), or giving my opinion on an article. TTYL.
4/3/10
A quick apology, then the iPad. Which I'm sure you're sick of hearing about already.
Yeah, yeah. I haven't been posting. I know. Sorry. It's not like I have a huge following anyways.
So lately it's been slowing down at work, which leaves me a LOT of free time. So I've been reading the news. Well, mostly what Yahoo! posts to their front page, but still. It's more than what I used to do.
One of the frequent topics on the Yahoo! front page is the iPad. And I have come to some conclusions. But first let me say this: I have no experience with it. Never touched one. I also don't have an iPhone.
1) The price. It's some $600 for the smallest GB (that's with shipping, handling and taxes), and if you want 3G, well, that's even MORE pricey. For the largest GB, it's about $200 more, PLUS a plan. And that's WITHOUT the apps! The average cost of an app for this thing is anywhere from $0.99 (an iPhone app, which isn't sized for the iPad) to a $5o one. Granted, the most expensive iPhone app is $50K and doesn't do anything (it's a graphic of a ruby, just sitting on your screen like an app. To show that your rich. WTF?), but seriously?? The damn tablet is expensive enough! Not to mention all the gizmos to go with the apps!
2) The size. This thing smaller than your average laptop (I've got a wide-screen laptop anyways...) but bigger than your iPhone (duh!), and weighs about 1.5lbs. I've read it described as "heavy." Well, yeah, it's kinda hefty. You have to pack all this technology into a weedle thing about the size of a shoe. Maybe, if you break it's glass screen, you can do reps with it... In the article that prompted me to start writing again (read it here) he mentions that after playing with the iPad for an hour and watching Avatar on it, he went to fiddle with his iPhone (...He has both? WhyTF do you need both??) and his iPhone felt "puny." Yay?
3) The screen. It's glass. Which means if you want to do anything while outside on a nice-ish to beautiful day, you're fucked. Hello, glare! Also, if you want to watch movies with a lot of dark screens in them, prepare to see your beautiful face. Because the screen has the reflecting capabilities of a mirror (Which is a free app, by the way... LOL!). "You've never handled one! How would you know, froggoddess!" you might be thinking. Fine. You've got me there. But next time you pass a window when you're in the light, and the room is pitch-black... BAM! There you are with a clarity with which you can fix your mascara.
4) Apple. When the iPhone came out, everyone was sooo excited that the other cell phone companies made bank from everyone dropping their plans for AT&T (or was it Cingular back then??), only to find dismay that the iPhone was (even admittedly!) not ready for launch. There were so many bugs... hell, there still are. Not to mention the suck that was one of the patches. Dropped battery life by nearly 50%! Now the people who paid for the first-release iPhones are hopping mad, because they paid. How much? Nearly $300 for the 16GB! Now the price for the 16GB is almost $100. And you just know they're going to do the same (or similar) price drop for the iPad. So what's the point of buying now? Why, in God's name, would you pay such exorbitant prices for an almost-prototype? *sigh* I don't know. :/
5) The name. iPad. Quick! Close your eyes, and say the name out loud. What comes to mind?? An oversized iPhone? To me, I think of feminine hygene products. Or a puppy pad. Neither of which would improve if you added an electronic *anything* to them.
6) No camera. Of any kind. According to Steve Jobs, it will NEVER have one. Uhh, okay?
7) No Flashplayer. Again, I've heard that it will NEVER have it. Dear Mr. Jobs: I don't GIVE a shit if you think it's stupid and unnecessary. It's ALL over the internet. And Flash isn't going anywhere. Sorry!
8) Doesn't charge from USB. Yeah... I think it should have USB and wall-plug capabilities. I hate having to turn on my computer to charge my iPod, but some people are into that. Freaks.
9) QWERTY touch-screen keyboard. It's apparently got a really good on-screen keyboard. (Read reviews here and here). Biggest complaint? Hard to do it. Why? You have to awkwardly place it on your lap, place it on a table ("not the best solution due to the iPad's curved back"), hold it with one hand ("effectively slashing your possible WPM"), get a keyboard ($79), or get a case to prop it up ($39). With the best solutions taking even more money out of your recessioned wallet, I'd say it's not worth it.
10) E-BOOKS. To begin this section, let me start with these two works: FUCK. THAT. When Amazon introduced the "Kindle," I became infuriated. I'm a HUGE book-reader. I'm also somewhat paranoid. I believe that scenarios like Fahrenheit 451 and Equilibrium will happen, eventually, and that these "electronic-books" are a way for the government to control our reading material. They're also a LOT easier to find and/or destroy. (All electronics emit a signal of some sort.) The E-Book industry will also kill the publishing company. On a plus side, they will save the environment, and boost business for optometrists...
By now, I'm sure that you're all done reading me be a pessimist about the iPad. So I'll stop. But I'll let you know if I ever get one.
8/31/09
Whoa, long time!
Sorry I haven't been writing, but none of my readers *coughLIKEIHAVEANYcough* have notified me of my absence. Until now. I got a message from blogspot that said my blog was out-of-date. Sorry!
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