0024. I can admit when I'm being childish

So my last post was written while fairly drunk and in the middle of a tantrum. I admit that sometimes I can be a bit of a child. I'm 27, not 17. I sometimes have trouble remembering that.

The thing is, with how severe my social anxiety is, I don't want to go out often. PK has routinely told me that I've changed his entire lifestyle because he used to go out all the time and now he never goes out. Of course he gives himself away when I actually want to go somewhere and he tells me that he wants to stay home because he's "so tired" and he "never [gets] to stay home and relax because [he] never [has] time off".

Yes, I know that he works hard and often. I understand that. But why is it only when I want to go out that he's too tired for it? And why is it the things that I want to do that he's tired of (going to a bar in the area - i.e. Maribel's, Scout Bar, Monkey Bar, etc).

Maybe I'm still in the middle of my childish tantrum.

While I'm ranting... We had a "pow-wow" at work yesterday wherein we were told that we all need to help each other out. I found this a bit amusing, since my job entails filing, voicemail, whatever Boss Lady needs in the office, and backing the guys up because they're out front with students. I'd say about 85% of my time is spent in the front or standing in the office helping the guys because they know nothing.

The 2 new guys, I can totally understand why they need help. They've been here less than a month, they're bound to have a few questions here & there. But Lazy has been with us for MONTHS and he still routinely has to ask the most basic simple questions there are! And he made a comment on how the filing wasn't done Thursday afternoon. I'm sorry, would that be the day that we were so busy I didn't even have time to eat lunch? The day that I pick my kid up from school and have to RUN out the door? Yes, I believe so. And he also brought up a day where he asked me a question & I told him that I had to leave. That was on another Tuesday or Thursday. He claims it was 10 minutes before I had to leave, and yet I've routinely been late picking Monkey up because I've been too busy helping his stupid lazy ass out and taking care of students to leave right at 3:00.

I cannot tell you how many times I've told them that if I'm not OUT THE DOOR RIGHT AT 3:00 that I will be late to pick her up. And how many times I've left at 3:05, even as late at 3:10. I don't like it when Monkey is the last kid picked up. I don't like it when it's evident that she's been crying when I pick her up because she thinks Mommy has forgotten her. So fuck you for being upset that I told you I'm leaving and don't have time to answer your stupid ass question. Fuck you twice for implying that I said it 10 minutes before leaving because that shit has NEVER HAPPENED, Mr "I'm out 15 minutes before my shift is actually over".

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? He leaves early. Every day. And he laughs about it! He even left me by myself on a Friday when the entire office was closing at 5:00. We do NOT leave before 5:00 because the Big Boss Lady (the one who's in charge of the entire office) gets pissed if we close our doors one second before 5:00. But our boss was out that day and he & I were the only ones there. He told me that his clock said it was 5:00, so he was leaving. I told him we don't go by our personal clocks, that we go by the one in the office and even then, we don't leave until all the students are gone and/or we've been given permission by TBBL to leave. He left anyway. I should've reported it to our boss, but I didn't because he was new and I didn't want to throw him under the bus like that.

But now? Oh, I can't wait for the first Greyhound to pass by because his ass is getting tossed directly in the line of fire.

0023. What's my age again?

iTunes: "What's my age again" - Blink 182
Mood: slightly tipsy, mostly intoxicated

PK and I went to his Christmas party tonight and we had a lot of fun. I'm not big on social events, considering my social anxiety disorder is usually pretty fucking crippling and most of the time you have to drag me out of the house kicking and screaming (sometimes literally), but i had a really great time ringing. Maybe it was because of the "Perfect Patron Margarita", the 3 filthy dirty martinis (I have to tell the bartender tha he has to either drag the glass through the Gulf of Mexico or pick up a hooker from the French Quarter and make her spit in it and that's how dirty I want my martini), or the "Spiked Iced Tea" (which I took from Camaro and it was freaking fabulous), but I was feeling the urge to go out to the bar with our friends after the party. But PK didn't want to go. Camaro assured me that he'd convince PK to come with.

And we came home at 10:30.

I begged to go out. BEGGED. But he's tired and wants to go home and blah blah blah. Dude! I'm fucking 27 years old. I'm not 50. Twenty-fucking-seven. All of my going out and partying stopped when I got pregnant with Monkey. And when was that? When I was 21. When did I start going out? When I was 21 (remember the crippling social anxiety disorder?). Yeah, I've gone out since then, but I haven't gotten it all out of my system. And it might take me having a few drinks to get in the mood to want to go out, but I sometimes do want to go. And PK's excuse is that he's been to all the funky bars in the area. He's played that scene and whatever. but I haven't!!!

I moved here when I was 17. I moved away (to join the Navy) when I was 19. Not old enough to go to bars. Not old enough to go to dance clubs that are any kind of fun. I want to go out. I want to have a good time. I want to act my goddamned age! PK is 38. That's not old. In fact, most of the time, I complain that he's acting like a fucking child. But tonight, he's acting like an old fucking man and it's irritating the fuck out of me. He was saying how we never go out and his "Rock Star Lifestyle" is over because he's a husband (he's not) and a father (ok, he kinda is) and now he's saying he's too tired to go to a fucking bar for a drink.

What the fuck ever.

0022. the beat was going strong playing my favorite song

iTunes: "I love rock & roll" - Britney Spears

Mood: tired, slightly irritated, but still ok (complicated?)

Today wasn't horrible. It was busy, but not bad. By the time 2:00 rolled around, I was seriously clock-watching cause I was so ready to go home. 3:00 hit, and I ran out the door. Went & picked Monkey from school and had to take her home to change her shirt because she managed to get green frosting all over it (they made "Christmas trees" out of waffle cones, green frosting, and M&Ms). I decided to take her to the nail salon so that we could get our nails done.

I love taking her to get her nails painted, she's so adorable when she's picking out the color and trying to be patient about how long it's taking for them to dry. Normally, I take her Leapster and she sits there fairly quietly playing while I get my nails redone. Today, she played her Leapster for about 10 seconds and proceeded to spin the chair around, kick the chair away from the table, mess with everything on the table (especially the fan and the lamp)... basically anything she could do to get in trouble.

I don't know what's going on with her lately, but she refuses to listen to me. She looks right at me with that little glint in her eyes and does exactly what I tell her not to. Then she laughs at me when I get mad at her for doing it! What the hell??? Is it an age thing? Is it a phase? Is it her way of saying "Pay more attention to me and stop being such a shitty mom?" I don't know what the hell to do! Spanking and time out isn't working. Talking to her like an adult isn't working. Talking to her like a child isn't working.

I'm at that point where I'm overwhelmed from everything and I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of having a panic attack. I need a fucking break. Not just from Monkey (my mom's planning on taking her for a weekend sometime soon), but from everything. Work, school, PK... LIFE.

I feel like I'm being all whiny and irritating because everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes and needs a break, but FUCK! How am I supposed to center my fucking chi and calm the hell down if I can't even take a shower without someone (namely Monkey) crawling up my ass & asking me 10,000 questions?!

0021. Flaunting my intelligence... or something.

I love school. I make no secret of that. While I'm not a huge fan of my government class, I am huge fan of learning... especially history. OMG, I'm suuuuuch a history dork. So much so that I've been actively wondering why I'm not pursuing a history degree instead of a nursing degree (money - plain & simple).

Today, I had to take an online test for my Texas History class because the prof had been absent one day and he needed the extra time for lecture before the final. I'm actually really happy for that because it gave me a little more time to really read the book instead of just skimming over the book for the answers to the questions on the review. As dorky as it makes me, I really enjoyed the outside reading we did this semester. The book is called Galveston: A History by David G McComb.

It's not nearly as dry as I thought the history of a city would be, and I ended up going online to see what other cities or states he's done biographies of. He's written about Colorado, the state of Texas, a modern history of Texas, and HOUSTON! Of course, I ordered the Houston book and can't wait to read it (I'll have to, since I'm so horrendously behind on my reviews, but as soon as I get caught up, I'm diving right in!)

So yeah, the test... We usually have 40 multiple choice questions and one (short) essay question. This time, we had 20 multiple questions, which took me around 15 minutes to complete, and I took the remaining 45 minutes on the timer to write the longest test essay response I've ever written in my life.

I wrote 1248 words on 2 pages in 11 point Calibri font. Normally, I have to fight myself to come up with something to write on tests. But in this class I have never lacked for the words, just the time and the page space (we've got 4 short pages on our scantrons and with how large my handwriting is.... it tends to fill up quickly). Today, I let myself go crazy. And I'm so happy with the results that I can't help but share it. If you're really that interested in reading my genius work, click the "READ MORE!" link below.

0020. on the outside looking in

I don't want to sound like a child, stomping my foot on the ground and crying because I feel left out or ignored... but that's how I've been feeling lately. Maybe I try too hard to fit in, in IRL situations, because I'm constantly trying to talk to someone, find something in common with someone, and/or connect with someone. And I don't feel like I'm doing that. I have friends, but I don't have many people that I'm close to.

Ever since I joined the Navy and moved away, my relationship with Gigi has suffered. We're not nearly as close as we used to be. Lolo and I joined the Navy together, but she got out way before I did, got married, and moved to the other side of the city. I'm happy that she's married, has a beautiful baby girl, and is happy, but I miss my friend. And Nerf, my BFF from the Navy, moved to California to be with her husband. I can't be mad about that because I'd do the exact same thing, but I miss my best friend. I miss them all so much.

I feel like I"m being really needy and whiny right now, but I miss nights when I'd go over to Nerf's (or she'd come to my place), and we'd bake cookies from scratch, watch chick flicks, and stay up all night talking. I miss walking in the door and her immediately reaching for whatever it is I needed at that moment (because she somehow always knew) and sitting down with me on the couch and cuddling with me. It's hard to have that kind of strictly platonic friendship when you can cuddle up with someone and they don't think you're trying to get in their pants.

As for online... Most of my friendships are blog-related. And while I know that I could call any one of these women and they'd drop whatever it is they're doing to talk to me, I still feel as though I'm on the outside looking in. I don't blog as much as I should, I'm not on Twitter as much anymore, and I'm scared that I'll fade away. And because I don't blog as much as I should & I'm not on Twitter as much anymore, I feel like I'm missing out on a lot and people who I was close to in the past are forgetting about me.

I also feel like I'm not nearly smart enough to be blogging with some of the people I blog with. I look at their posts and I'm blown away by the amount of information they came away with after reading a book. I don't see symbolism. I don't see themes. I don't notice the subtleties that make a book. Well, I do when I'm actively looking for it, but if I'm not reading a book for a class, I don't see things like that. I read to get lost in the story and to lose myself for a few hours.

I know I'm being paranoid & ridiculous, but it's how I feel right now. And since this is my personal blog and I'm supposed to be totally honest in it... well, there you go.

0019. it seems all I do these days is rant...

I have a test tomorrow over the History of Galveston. I've made it clear since the moment I walked into the door at work that I have to study today. And yet Lazy decided that he should be allowed to leave early to study for his test... which isn't til next week.

It's bad enough that he gets "overwhelmed" or "swamped" when there's more than one student waiting or when he's asked to do something like filing (which is his main fucking job!), but to leave me hanging again? That's fucking BULLSHIT. He sits up front the entire time he's here on Facebook playing war games or wannabe-Sims (thereby taking up the computer and making it impossible for any of the other workstudies to do homework during the -ha!- slow times), he doesn't take the time to learn the system, he whines when he's given a task... Why the fuck is he working here? And was he seriously a Marine? He's giving the USMC a bad fucking name.

Our part-time workstudy came in shortly after Lazy left, and I got all excited that I'd actually have some help with the students and maybe have some time to study. But from the minute she walked in, she's been on her cell phone or talking to her brother. I know that she's got financial & medical issues going on that need to be taken care of, but she's supposed to be working. She's collecting a check right now and not doing her job. From everything that I've been taught throughout the 16 years I've been working (yes, I've been working since I was 11), that's equivalent to THEFT. Get off the fucking phone and do something.

My boss takes 2+ hour lunches to go pick up her kids. I get that she needs to pick up her kids, but a 2+ hour lunch? That's ridiculous! And the fact that I don't have the power to lift holds and I don't know all the answers and she's not here... more ridiuclous.

I'm frustrated and ready to quit. The measly $725 a month isn't fucking worth it. I'd rather go wait tables at this point. The only reason I'm not quitting is because any other job I'd get would require me to work weekends, and I'm not gonna do that while I'm in school. I don't get to spend enough time with my family as it is.

0018. Venting

I like helping people if I'm able to. I have no problem loaning a little bit of money, babysitting, or helping with homework. But I don't like being taken advantage of and I don't like being treated like it's my duty to serve people. It's not. It's my duty to make sure that my daughter grows up happy, healthy, and well-adjusted (because let's face it, she needs to be well-adjusted with a crazy ass mom like me). It's not my duty to pick up after people, make sure that their lives are in order, or wait for HOURS while they wake up, do other homework, and get their shit together.

In other news, my house is spotless and dinner was fabulous. My stress relief for today was cleaning the house top to bottom and making dinner. I cleaned the living room, the kitchen, both bedrooms, and the bathroom. I have 2 small loads of laundry left to do, and then it will be done. Completely. Even the sheets, towels, and blankets (which I always leave for last). And even though it went slightly against my diet, I made baked tilapia with lemon juice (not against the diet), olive oil, sea salt, and parsley (against the diet). I also made asparagus (not against the diet) and crescent rolls (against the diet, and I only had 1).

I've been really good about this diet for the past 2 weeks. And I'm starving. MIL made me realize that what I'm doing is basically an amped up version of the Atkins diet, which I've been preaching against for quite a while. So, I'm still doing the protein shakes and the fat burning pills (I ran out of the cleanse stuff), I'm also allowing myself slightly more food, while still eating healthily.

0017. I lost my iPhone, there's no music

iTunes: none. Can't find my phone & too lazy to pull up the program on the laptop

Mood: tired as fuck

I had stuff to talk about. Lots of stuff. I've been blogging in my head all day. But by the time I got home today (at 7-fucking-PM), I was so tired that I could barely stand long enough to make dinner. Thank God I made sloppy joes for PK & Monkey tonight. Those are super easy and quick to make. After I made grub, I drank my protein shake, took my meds, and laid my head down in PK's lap while he sat on the couch... and promptly fell asleep.

I didn't get to sleep too long. Monkey kept asking for more tater tots and trying to get up from the table, so it wasn't easy to stay asleep. That's ok. I don't need to sleep on the couch. Last time I did, I hurt my neck and the last thing I need is to hurt my neck again.

If you don't read the Twitloss blog, I've started a 2 week cleansing diet called Nu-Lean in conjunction with the Phentermine (appetite suppressant) pills. It's very strict, but it'll clean out my system of toxins and flush out my liver and upper GI tract of all the crap I dump into it. I can only eat a few raw almonds, water-filled vegetables (i.e. cucumber, celery, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, lettuce, cabbage...) and baked chicken or fish (no butter, no salt). I drink a TON of water, take a boatload of vitamins, quick fat burn tablets, and protein shakes. It's only for 2 weeks, but it'll supposedly make me feel better and help me to lose weight faster. I need to get over this stupid 190lb hurdle.

I updated my Kindle with an eARC from one of my absolute most favorite authors (MEGAN HART!) and am now ready to fall flat on my face. I think I'm gonna head to bed in order to prevent breaking my nose or giving myself a black eye. Nini.

0016. we always find things we've never seen before...

iTunes: nada - Monkey's watching Backyardigans on TV
mood: tired & irritated

I have one more paper to write for my Medical Terminology class, which I can turn in early so I plan on doing that just to get the class out of the way. I have one more test in my Government class (but no idea when that will be since the professor isn't exactly big on the whole communication thing), and two more for my Texas History class (which I love and wish would never end). I'm ready for this semester to be over! I can't imagine what it's going to be like when I finally get into nursing school!

I’m tired and stressed and that doesn’t exactly equal for happy MK. I have an hour to get to class and 2 ½ hours until I have to go to work. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to deal with the newbie who gets pissy because he’s not used to working anymore. I’m sorry, but you were a freaking Sgt in the Marines. If you’re not used to work, then you must’ve sucked a lot of dick to get to E5. I don’t care if you haven’t worked since you got out – Marines work hard. End of story. So for you to get all whiny and pissy when someone tells you to freaking go take some envelopes to the post office is beyond ridiculous and you should be strung up and whipped with a wet noodle for being such a bitch about it. Jesus fucking Christ. Grow the fuck up. You’re 27 years old and you act like you’re a child. My daughter knows more about responsibility and doing what you’re told and she’s FIVE!

Sorry, I had to vent that for a minute. I just want to take the day off of work, take a nap, and ignore the urge to pull my fingernails out by the roots rather than deal with dipshits and asshats. This is why I’m not good at customer service (and I’m going into nursing??)

Speaking of... I’ve been seriously re-thinking going into nursing as my history class progresses. I love my history class. I love history. So why am I going into a field where I’m not sure I want to be instead of going into a field where I can do what I love? Mostly because of money. The GI Bill requires that I follow a certain degree plan once I’ve chosen it. And if I change from pre-health to history, most of the classes I’ve taken in preparation for the nursing program won’t fit, and the GI Bill won’t be able to pay for the other classes that are required for a history degree. Also, nurses make WAY more money than history teachers do, even though high school teachers make around $50,000 a year to start in the Houston area. So, I’m stuck prepping for and heading into the nursing program. Which, let me be honest, isn’t exactly my cuppa right now.

Whine, whine, whine. Now I’m the whiner. I really do need a vacation.

0015. I haz anger.

iTunes: nothing

Mood: pissed the hell off

We have 2 cats named Stinky & Ditto. They may seem cute & cuddly, but in reality, they're devil cats sent straight from the pits of hell to annoy me to death.

The thing is, I don't really like cats. I hate them, actually. I never really have been an animal person, but in the last 7 or 8 years, I've really gotten to the point where I loathe those little asshole balls of fur who exist to piss me off.

It started with the cats my roommate Nerf & I had. Their names were Harm & Mac (yes, we named them after the characters from JAG). We didn't have the money to get them fixed, so Harm started spraying the apartment. Mac decided to follow his lead and she started peeingeverywhere. I ended up getting rid of them and paying to have the carpet cleaned, but it was so bad that the apartment complex had to replace the carpets, the padding, and have the concrete below it cleaned.

This makes me seem like I'm not a clean person. I am. I have OCD and I routinely bleach everything in the house. If it doesn't smell like bleach, it doesn't smell clean to me and that makes me insane (told you - OCD). On weekends, I've been known to get in the corners with a bucket of bleach water & clean the baseboards with a toothbrush. I blame my mom for making us do this when we were kids, but I also thank her for it,because my house is spotless. And I usually get my security deposit back when I move (obviously, I didn't in the other place).

When PK moved in, Ditto came as part of the package. He had another cat named Sam as well, and I really loved him (he was more like a dog than a cat, and he was cool as hell), but he died shortly after they moved in from heart disease. Ditto is friendly, but he's definitely PK's cat. He climbs into PK's lap when he gets home, and sneaks up to PK's face to try and get kisses from him. It's really cute to watch, actually.

Because I wasn't sure if PK was going to move in or not (at the time) and I wanted Monkey to have a pet to grow up with, I got Stinky from my mom (Monkey re-named him... he used to be Gibbs -from NCIS- but when he moved here, his food got changed to indoor cat food, and his tummy didn't adjust right away... Monkey said he was STINKY! and it stuck).

So now, I'm stuck with 2 cats. And a bird (her name's Tessa. She's relatively cool, except for the fact that she tosses her food out on the floor all around her cage... and her cage smells weird, even right after I clean it out -- birds are gross).

The reason why I haz anger? Last week (the week before?), when PK was at rehearsal, I was hanging around the house. I was on the phone with my cousin MamaDee when I decided I was going to head into my room to watch my shows. When I walked into my room, I noticed that it smelled pretty strongly of poo in there. The bathroom connects to our bedroom, so I went to close the door while whichever asshole was in there could finish & cover it up with the entirely too expensive cat litter I have to buy every week. But the odor didn't leave when I closed the door.

I walked over to my side of the bed so that I could take off my jewelry before launching an investigation as to where the hell the smell was coming from. And that's when I saw it. Stinky was sitting on my bed... next to a fresh pile of dung.

Even though I was still on the phone with MamaDee, I started freaking out. I screamed at the cat (who promptly RAN out of the bedroom) and started gagging (I don't do well with poop - it's gross). Then I started crying because a) there's poop on my bed b) I don't have any clean sheets and c) I'd just cleaned out the litter box. I scoop it out daily, but I replace the litter at least once a week. Like I said before: OCD.

So, I hung up the phone, picked up the nasty & flushed it, then set about the task of washing both sets of sheets so that we'd have something to sleep on. I called my mom and cried. I called Jaime and cried (sorry about that - I'm a whackjob, I know). And then I put on my big girl panties and dealt with it. Of course, I kicked the little bastards out of my room and haven't allowed them back in since, but that's beside the point.

When PK got home, I calmly told him what happened, and then told him I couldn't handle it anymore. There's no reason for either cat to be shitting on our bed. There's even less reason for Ditto to be peeing on the wall by the bathtub or by the main door to the bathroom (I've caught him doing it).

I have anger issues sometimes. I may have a long fuse, but once my temper blows, it's explosive and you don't want to be in the way when I go off. And when I saw that pile on my bed, I saw RED. I imagined throwing the little fucker out the window and praying he hit something on the way down (we live on the 2nd floor). I've imagined kicking them clear across the room. I would NEVER harm an animal that way, but I've certainly imagined it.

I've been asking PK for a few months now to fix Monkey's door. It doesn't latch properly, and the cats sneak in there at night. It's cute when they want to sleep with her, but when I was leaving her closet door open all the time, they took it upon themselves to pee in there. I borrowed my mom's steam cleaner to clean the carpet in there, and started closing the door. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

Tonight, Monkey was being difficult and didn't want to go to eat her dinner. We've been having issues with her not wanting to eat unless it's chicken nuggets, hamburgers, or mac & cheese, so we sent her to bed without anything else. I always feel bad when I do it, but if she doesn't learn, she'll never eat what she's given.

Anyway. We sent her to her room to put on her jammies. She kissed PK good night & I told her to climb into her bed and I'd be there in a minute for prayers & to tuck her in (I was cleaning up the kitchen from dinner). She went into her room and shouted "Mooooommmmm! There's pee on my bed!" I immediately thought she'd accidentally wet the bed, although there wasn't anything there this morning, and she hasn't done that for months. So, I went in there and she pointed to a yellowish stain on her white down comforter. I leaned down to smell it, and sure enough, it was cat urine.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Then, she pointed to her (closed) closet door and says "Mommy, there's poop!" And I immediately yell for PK because I'm livid again.

He comes into her room, sees the pee on her bed and the poop by her closet, and immediately walks out again. At first, I'm pissed because he's not dealing with it, but then he comes back in with a toolbox and starts working on her door to keep the little fucks out of there. He tried his best, but wasn't able to fix it tonight. He's going to have to get a file and a chisel and work on it.

And yeah, I'm happy that he's finally working on it, but I asked him to fix her door or to teach me how to do it months ago. He used to tell me that he likes the fact that the cats go in to sleep with her at night and that's why he wasn't fixing it, but honestly... I think he was just being lazy. And that pisses me off too. Because if he hadn't been lazy, the asshole cats wouldn't have been able to defile her room.

I want to get rid of the stupid fucking cats and never have to deal with them again. But I can't. Because they're not mine, and PK & Monkey love them. I will say this though - when they die, that's it. No more cats. No more birds. No dogs. No guinea pigs. No hampsters. MAYBE we'll get some fish. But I refuse to get any more animals that I'm going to have to take care of (when I don't even like the stupid things!) and are going to make a big fucking mess.

Edit: Yes, I know it's kind of funny that they pooped on my bed. It's disgusting, but it's funny. I can see that through the haze of anger. But it's disgusting, unsanitary, and just plain wrong, so I reserve the right to be livid.

0014. heaven cannot wait forever

iTunes: The First Taste - Fiona Apple
Mood: irritated

I want to start off by saying that I enjoy my job. I do. Helping veterans get back into school is awesome and rewarding. But I've been getting more and more frustrated with certain aspects.

• Vets who act like they have no idea WTF they're doing. You've been attending school for how long now and you don't know that you have to turn in your fee slip and a request for certification? Come on, now. That's just plain stupid.
  
• And it KILLS ME when they come in demanding to know why they haven't been paid yet when they turned their paperwork in just a few weeks ago. We warned them that it would take a while because they waited until the last minute. It's the VA. Do you really expect them to be ahead of the game? Um. No. They're part of the government. They move slower than a snail. Get used to it or turn your shit in early -- like we tell you to when you register for classes every semester!
  
• The boss lady is cool as hell... most of the time. It feels like she plays favorites, and if there's one thing I can't abide, it's favoritism.
• I was there by myself on Friday because one coworker had a pre-arranged day off to take care of a few things. The other coworker had mentioned taking off because we were going to have 3 people there (me, him, & the other coworker)... but then we remembered that boss lady wasn't coming in and the other coworker had appointments all day. Darn. Then he suddenly remembers that he has to do something with his car, so he calls boss lady and asks if he can take it into the shop "real quick". This leads to the assumption that he's got a ride back and he'll return in a little while. Nope. I was alone ALL DAY. It was a fairly slow day, comparatively speaking, but leaving me by myself is NOT FUCKING COOL.

I have midterms today (Government) and tomorrow (Texas History). I took the Government exam before I came into work, so I don't have to study for that, but I have to majorly study for History... and I got left alone AGAIN today.

W. T. F. ?!??!

I have a headache already, but it got worse after boss lady left with our part timer (who'd only arrived minutes before leaving) and they went to lunch. They were gone more than an hour! When they got back at 4:30, I asked to go home early so that I could study. I picked Monkey up, and decided that I needed to rant a bit before starting to study again. I'm thinking we'll have to order dinner tonight unless PK wants to cook. I'm too tired and have too much studying to do to cook tonight.

0013. weight, diet, exercise, blah.

I don't look good this heavy. I don't feel good this heavy. So rather than just whining about it, I'm going to do something about it. I went to the doctor and got back on Phentermine and am opting to take the B12 + Lipo shots (http://looseweightez.com) under a doctor's supervision, of course. I'm also getting ready to buy an elliptical machine to stick in my living room and use while I'm watching TV. Aaaand, I'm starting to do my menus again. This one has 10 days on it. I just bought a crock pot, so I'm going to Google some healthy crockpot recipes and go crazy with it.

Tuesday October 5, 2010
hot dogs -- last night of "freedom"

Wednesday October 6, 2010
baked fish & "chips"

Thursday October 7, 2010
Vegetable meatloaf & garden potato salad

Friday October 8, 2010
pot roast & veggies

Saturday October 9, 2010
sausage & peppers

Sunday October 10, 2010
shrimp scampi

Monday October 11, 2010
curried chicken & rice soup

Tuesday October 12, 2010
chicken & mushroom quesadillas

Wednesday October 13, 2010
pork & rice (PK's recipe)

Thursday October 14, 2010
three cheese macaroni w/turkey breast

Friday October 15, 2010
chicken-zucchini alfredo (might substitute shrimp instead)

0012. leavin on a jet plane...

I didn't have time to really write a blog, and I had stuff to ramble about. So, I did a new vlog (and I'm sorry it's so long. There's a special surprise if you watch it all. Ok, it's actually in the first minute or so, but still. It's only 4:51 minutes long)...

Ok, you caught me. Jaime has me addicted to vlogging now. Remind me to shake my fist at her later. Or give her a hug. I haven't decided yet.



Oh! And tonight, Stella Price tweeted me and told me that while I'm in NYC I should pop over to New Jersey and attend the Authors After Dark free signing. I checked out the guest list and am dying to go!!! I asked PK and he said that MAYYYYYBE we can go. He's not sure because we're gonna be super busy, but we might go. Maybe. He's not sure, and I know that he doesn't want to go AT ALL (he's totally not a reader - how did I manage that?) so, yeah. We'll see.

0011. Hurricane Ike... Two years Later

So, I bowed down to peer pressure (I'm talking to you, Jaime!) and made my first ever vlog. I'll probably be pulling it down next week because I'm shy about having my face on the web. And my voice. And everything. Yeah, I'm weird. And a paranoid freak.

Anyway. This is my first vlog. It's unscripted and babbly. I'm sure I sound like a huge dork... and looking at it now, the sound is slightly off and it looks kind of freaky (sorry about that!) I'm posting a slide show of the pictures I took after Hurricane Ike. I need to go around and take some more pictures, but well, I haven't had a huge amount of time in the past... forever.

0010. it's so hot and i need some air

I posted over at the Twitloss blog today, and kind of went way off in the other direction of what I usually post. Why? Because I've got heavy stuff on my mind and I had something to say.

My friend, who I'll call Smith (he works with PK as a locksmith) was diagnosed with cancer a couple months ago and underwent brain surgery to remove a tumor on the 1st of this month. He is not the first person I've met with cancer... I actually shared a womb with someone who had cancer.

My twin was diagnosed with Burkitt's Lymphoma when we were 3 years old and spent the next year at Texas Children's Hospital. I lived with my maternal grandparents at the time, because my parents were divorced and my mom was living at the hospital with Twin. He's been in remission and "cancer free" for the past 24 years (praise God and hallelujah!), but he's just the first in a long line of people that I know who have had cancer:

• maternal grandmother (died)
• maternal grandfather (died)
• paternal grandmother (died)
• paternal grandfather (in remission)
• maternal aunt (died)
• maternal great aunt (died)
• paternal uncle (in remission)

This is just the list I can think of off the top of my head, and doesn't count the family members with skin cancer. That list should basically say "everyone on my mom's side of the family" because pretty much everyone has had something removed/burned off. This is why I'm terrified of the sun and have SPF in everything - makeup, lotion, lipstick, chapstick, etc.

This is also why I am super fucking paranoid about my health and my daughter's health. I don't want to take risks with either one of us. They used to make fun of me in the military for going to the doctor all the time, but because I have such a thoroughly documented medical record, I get 70% disability and free healthcare (for my service-connected disabilities) through the VA. My daughter didn't lose her hearing when her ear infections got so bad that they required surgery... twice. So yes, I fully advocate going to the doctor when you're sick and getting regular yearly physicals. That's actually how Smith was diagnosed - his doctor refused to refill his blood pressure medication without a full physical, and he found a lump on Smith's lymph nodes in his neck.

Smith is doing really well, and I'm happy to say that as of this morning, he was due to be released today. I know he's ready to be at home and to start the long road ahead of him (chemo and radiation). He's a strong person and a wonderful guy. I'm praying that the treatment works fast and that he's healed quickly.

Even though he's doing as well as he is, it was really hard for me to see him in the hospital last night. I'm not used to seeing Smith in any capacity other than having fun and living a full happy life. Add that to the fact that hospitals are kind of traumatizing for me (when people I care about are being treated... not when I'm working there - for those that are worried about my decision the be a nurse), and by the time I got home last night, I think I cried about 2 gallons AND I called almost everyone I know that smokes and begged them to quit (including my mother, my cousin, and PK).

PK's at rehearsal tonight, so I'm going to cuddle with Monkey for a little while, then I'm going to do some much-needed studying. Hopefully reading about Texas History, Government, and Medical Terminology will get my mind off of things. I'm pretty sure it'll put me to sleep. LOL.


iTunes: Britney Spears - Breathe on me
Mood: pensive & a little sad

0009. and i fall in love with you

iTunes: Something like Silas - I fall
Mood: frustrated

I had things to talk about. And they were important things. But I can't remember what they were, and honestly I'm too tired to pull something out of thin air. So, I'm going to post a music video of the song that's currently stuck in my head to distract you from my complete and total lameness.

0008. nothing about you is typical

iTunes: Britney Spears - Unusual You
Mood: irritated

We got a call at 1:00am saying that one of our friends had been involved in an accident. This friend has had his share of accidents, so I'm sorry to say that we weren't incredibly surprised. In fact, he's nearly killed PK twice in a matter of months. They were in such a bad accident that PK broke his chest. Yes. His chest. It's possible to do, I promise.

Our friend is ok, which also isn't much of a shock. He's never the one that gets hurt when he tears off in his suped up car. We're waiting on information about our other friend who was in the car. The last we heard, he was bleeding out of his ears and being taken to the hospital.

PK and I have been talking about the friend who was driving and have decided that Monkey will never ride in the car with him. Neither will I. PK is a grown man who is capable of making his own decisions, and sometimes he does get into the car with our friend, but he's always scared to do so... so most of the time, he insists that he (PK) drive instead. I've let my younger brother ride home with our friend a few times, but I'll be refusing that offer next time, despite the fact that they only live down the street from each other.

It's not that I don't like or trust our friend. I just don't trust his driving. He's reckless and doesn't care about anyone except himself. I'm very close to one of his daughters, and I'm terrified that I'm going to have to hold her while she cries when he kills himself or someone else.

PK has tried to talk to our friend. His parents have talked to him. His friends have talked to him. I don't think that me saying something would help if everyone else hasn't helped. This accident was minor, and apparently his car doesn't even have that much damage. But he and another friend spent the night in the hospital because of his recklessness and hotrodding. And he laughed about it this morning when he talked to PK! "Oh, I don't remember why the accident happened. But I do know that my car isn't really that messed up..." He doesn't remember having the accident, but he knows the exact damage done to his car? Sorry, I don't buy it. He just doesn't want to admit that he fucked up again and that he was being stupid and dangerous and could have killed someone.

He hasn't yet. But if he doesn't pull his shit together SOON I'm afraid that he will.

0007. you fall away from your past but it's following you

iTunes: The Fray - Fall away
Mood: Tired, but happy

Monkey's first day of Kindergarten was today. When I went to wake her up this morning, she was resistant at first (even grunting at me when I told her it was time to get up), but when I told her it was time to go to her big girl school, she jumped right out of bed and ran to the shower so she could have her hair all nice & curly for her first day of big girl school.

I got her to school early (which is kind of a first for me, since I'm chronically late for everything) and we sat in the parking lot for a minute while I did my makeup and she bounced up and down in the backseat asking if it was time to go inside yet and if she could raid her Tinkerbell lunchkit because she was "starving for cookies". When it was finally time, I took her picture at the entrance of the school and we made our way to her class.

The minute we saw her teacher, she turned into the shy kid she was pretending to be last Friday when I took her to meet her teacher (She actually screamed when the principal tried to get down on his knee -so he was at her level- and shake her hand last week). I took her into the classroom, showed her where she stowed her lunchkit and grabbed her nametag. The kids have to wear a badge with their name and picture on it kind of like I have to at work or the highschool kids do...

To be honest, that kind of weirded me out and made me feel safer at the same time. At least I know that there won't be any random people walking around the school without someone going "Hey, where's your badge and have you checked in at the front office" now. Though... a 5 year old running around a school? Kind of makes me wonder what kind of kidnapper/terrorist they're expecting. I know, I'm a paranoid freak.

Anyway. We got her situated, and she chose to sit in front of a pink jar of play dough at the green table (I don't know why that was significant) and I took more pictures. Then, she fave me the look. You know, the "are you really leaving me here alone?" look.


This is the part where I started crying.

I gave her a big hug and a kiss (ok, several), and made myself leave. I knew that if I didn't leave right at that point, I was going to grab her up and take her with me. But I know that I've got to let my baby girl grow up at some point, and since there's not much I can do about her being 5 and ready for Kindergarten, I sort of have to now. I don't like it, but I'm accepting it. Sort of.
I just keep remembering when I first had her... she was so tiny and small and helpless. totally dependent on me. And now I'm taking her to Kindergarten... I know I've got 12 more years of this stuff, but it feels like I'll be watching her graduate from high school next week. I mean, it sure as hell feels like I just found out I was pregnant with her yesterday, and that was almost 6 years ago!
I know, this is something that every mother goes through. Doesn't make it any easier to watch my little girl start to grow into her own little person. She's got such fire and personality in her. She's truly the best thing that I have ever done in my life, and the best thing to ever happen to me.

I need to go give her a squeeze now, even though it's way past her bed time. Just one little squeeze. She won't even wake up. No, really. I sneak in there for cuddles all the time. She sleeps like a log, but I still get my sleepy baby cuddles.

In other, non mommy-stalker news.... (LOL)

Work went pretty good today. We were busy as hell because it's the last day for registration, but I kept my cool and was level-headed. Even when I was the only work study up there and when my boss had to leave for an hour. I got more than a few compliments on how sweet/nice/polite/professional I was when people were leaving the office. I just think about all the times that I've had to go up there and deal with the unprofessional rude jackasses before (not necessarily in my office - there are other offices around there that I hate going to specifically), and I don't want people walking out of there with a bad taste in their mouths.

So, yeah. Work is going pretty good. It's kind of stressful, but I think I take a lot of that stress onto myself. I only have to work 25 hours a week, but I've already put in more than 80 in the 2 weeks and 1 day that I've been there.

I really enjoy working again, if I want to be completely honest. I don't like the feeling of having nothing to do. And even with all the schoolwork I know I'm going to have, I know that if I need the time off to study, I can take it. I know that if things get too crazy around the house (read: I slack off so much on the housework that it looks like a tornado hit the interior), I can take a day off and clean.

But right now, I don't have to. I'm stacking up hours so that I can take 2 days off during September when PK takes me to New York and still get paid for them. Not to mention the 3 days we'll have off for Thanksgiving, and the nearly 2 weeks we'll have off for Christmas. WOO!

It's late and I'm getting tired. Well, I guess I should say MORE tired, because I've been tired since before I got home. I had every intention of making dinner and going to bed tonight. But the food I made was good, and then PK wanted to watch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (he fell asleep on the couch about 20 minutes before the end of it). Now, it's getting ready to storm and I'm getting ready to go listen to it.

Good night all. Sweet dreams and all that stuff.

0006. I am Switzerland

iTunes: nothing
Mood: tired

I am quite possibly one of the most non-confrontational people you'll ever meet. No really. If given the choice between getting into a fight and running away, I'll run away. To the other end of the earth.

I have to clarify here - when it comes to my family, I will fight to the death. But the every day shit? No. I won't fight.

That might make me a pussy, but I'd just rather not deal with all the drama and bullshit that comes with fighting.

So from here on out, consider me Switzerland.

0005. it messed me up, need a second to breathe

iTunes: Adam Lambert - What do you want from me
Mood: LIVID

I took Monkey for shots today. The county clinic (which was free) didn't have Varicella. While they did inform me they were out of it, they failed to inform me that she had to have the shot the same day as the rest of her shots, or she'd have to wait 30 goddamned days to get the Varicella - which she has to have for school, or they absolutely will NOT allow her to enroll in school. I called 15 motherfucking doctors and clinics trying to find someone who would give her the shot.

If they had the shot, they weren't accepting anyone else for the day. If they were accepting people, they didn't have the shot. And she HAD to have the shot today because it's a live virus, and so is the MMR shot she got today. If she were to get the Varicella tomorrow (or even next week, when the clinic said they'd get the Varicella shot in again), there's a huge chance of a bad reaction.

Thanks for fucking telling me that she had to have the shot today and making sure the other free motherfucking clinic just down the street is a) open and b) has the goddamned shot. Oh wait, THEY DIDN'T!


I'm calm now. Sort of. Really bad headache because of all the stressing. I cried when she got the shots (all 4 of them), I cried when I couldn't find the 4th shot, and I cried when I had to ask PK for $169 to cover the fucking shot that we should've gotten for fucking free. GODDAMNIT! I'm not calm. I'm fucking LIVID.

When I brought Monkey up to the shop to get PK's credit card so he could pay the outrageous fee for the shot (I fucking hate not having insurance - and that's a whole other post in & of itself), she crawled into his lap and cried about how "Mommy let them poke [her]. [She doesn't] like pokies." Then she begged him not to make her get anymore pokies. Begged. With tears in her eyes and everything! We talked for a few minutes and tried to find a closer (and cheaper) clinic, and she fell asleep in his lap. When it was time for me to take her from him, she woke up and cried because mommy the meanie was trying to take her from daddy.

That NEVER happens. Monkey goes to me first before anyone else. Including the grandparents who spoil the shit out of her. So for her to cling to PK over me when I was just trying to take care of her and get her everything she needs in order to go to school, it shattered my heart.

I don't ever want to have to do that again.

0004. it ended just like a movie scene & i had to play a part

iTunes: Josh Gracin - Telluride
Mood: irritated

I served in the United States Navy for 6 years. In that time, I hurt both my ankles, both my knees, my back, my rotator cuff on my right shoulder, my neck, lost hearing in both ears, have a high-pitched ringing in both ears that will not ever go away, developed severe migraines, and battled severe depression (which was later diagnosed as mild bipolar disorder). I am 70% disabled, but still able to work. Even if I were 100% disabled (through the military), I'd probably still have to work.

What you don't know is that even on 100% disability, it is not enough to survive. At 70% disability with a dependent, I get $1398 a month. I have a house, a car, electricity, cable/internet, daycare, food, gas, car insurance, etc... Now, I can cut off the cable/internet and just read, but that is literally my only source of entertainment these days. We don't go to the movies, we don't go out of town, we very rarely go out to dinner, etc.

I go to school full time on the GI Bill. I opted for the Post 9/11 version because it gives me housing allowance - which allows me to go to school full time (when combined with my disability) and not have to work while I go to school. This won't last forever. In fact, I only have 24 months left on my GI Bill. There are 24 months in the nursing program, but I won't get to apply for it until September. I'm going to school this Fall. That means my GI Bill will run out 6 months before I finish the nursing program -- if I get accepted the first time around and if I pass all my classes.

I've had a few people tell me they think it's "bullshit" that I get free money for the rest of my life because I got "a little hurt" in the military - because obviously if I'm still able to work, it must "not be that bad". I've had a few people tell me that it's "bullshit" that I get to go to school and not have to work because I get a housing allowance.

Allow me to tell those people to FUCK THE ENTIRE HELL OFF.

I paid for my disability check with my body. I ache every. single. day. I have a handicapped parking placard because it physically hurts me to walk some days. When I'm having a good day, I park in the back and walk. Why? Because I can. On the days when my knees aren't killing me, I enjoy the ability to walk through a parking lot. The fact that I'm still able to work (even up to 100% disability - through the VA) is a good thing. Why? Because they don't fucking pay me enough to make a living.

I paid for my GI Bill out of my own pocket. In order to receive it, you have to pay a certain amount each month while you're in the military. The rest is from taxes. Taxes I still had to pay while enlisted and I still have to pay today.

The idea that any of this is "free money" is fucking bullshit.

I paid for it with my body, my soul, and my freedom. I gave 6 years of my life to the military. I gave up time with my daughter. I gave up time with my sick mother. I gave up living in my hometown to go to a place I fucking hated.

I won't be getting the GI Bill check forever. I might not even get disability forever (if my conditions get better). I will, however, have pain in my knees for the rest of my life. I will have migraines. I will have issues with my shoulder (which will likely have to be rebuilt at some point in the future). So, no. It isn't "free money".

0003. My words would flow like honey, sweet & laid on thick

iTunes: Katy Perry - Simple
Mood: Hopeful/Optimistic

Money has been a bit of an issue lately. I'm going to school on the GI Bill, and they give us a monthly housing allowance. This month, I only got about 1/3 of that. Granted, I still have my disability check, but it's still nowhere near enough to pay all my bills. So, PK offered to pay the bills I can't cover. This totals more than $500. And doesn't include groceries.

I'm lucky that he's doing well enough at his job right now that he can afford to give me that money. But he can't do it every month, and I was talking about not going back to school for at least 6 months. Even if I found a good part time or full time job, it likely wouldn't pay me enough to make it at this point. The economy sucks, and there aren't many spots open for administrative assistants.

I decided to bite the bullet, take some classes that will go towards my Bachelor's, and when the remaining 24 months on my GI Bill are up, I'd just use the Hazelwood Act. It'll only be 6 months, but my tuition and fees will at least be paid. I'm not sure about the books, and that might pose a problem, but I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to get Financial Aid to at least cover the books when the time comes.

So, while I was in the VA liaison's office, the lady's assistant told me that I should apply for the work study program. I gave him my student number for him to give to the Financial Aid Lady, who promptly told him that I wasn't eligible for work study because I'm on Financial Aid suspension. Um, excuse me? I go to school through the VA. Not through Financial Aid. I applied when I first went back to school last summer and was denied. So, I had to talk to the Financial Aid Lady, but the VA Liaison wanted to talk to me when I was done because I had other issues to discuss with her.

I had to fill out a new FAFSA form in order for them to start the appeal process, because I shouldn't be on suspension. They have my completion rate at 65% because I dropped 4 classes when I first went to college 9 years ago. Why did I drop those classes? Because my mother was in a coma and I had to stay home to take care of my infant brother. But apparently, that doesn't matter. Whatever. Bastards.

I went back into the liaison's office, who promptly called the VA office and chewed their asses because I was supposed to receive full payment. She apologized, and I should have the remainder of my check within the next two weeks "but will probably be sooner". Then, she handed me paperwork to fill out so I could do work study... through the VA, not through the Financial Aid office. WOOT! She's so excited about having me work with her - now she has someone to talk to about going to Disney World! ROFL. Seriously, we usually get along really well. Every time I go into her office, we talk for at least 30 minutes to an hour (if no one else is waiting behind me).

I then picked up BabyK, took her to PK's shop so we could bring him lunch and see her dad, then stopped by David's Bridal on the way home. Since we've decided to get married on the beach instead of a boat and we probably won't be getting married until later anyway (I'm going to be really stressed when I start nursing school), I canceled my layaway. I got 60% of what I paid back, and it's going directly into the bank - preferably my savings account.

Today was really busy, errand-wise. I'd planned on coming home and cleaning the house, but that can wait til tomorrow. Well... mostly. I'm doing things like dishes and taking out the trash, but finishing the laundry (which I did 2 loads of already) can wait. I'm tired and would really like to relax. I've been stressing over money and what I'm going to do about work lately, and now that I have less anxiety about it, I'm freaking exhausted.

002. Letter to my best friend(s)

I found this on my friend Lily’s blog, and I thought it was a really great idea. So, I’m going to be doing the Thirty Letter Challenge as well.

The Thirty Letter Challenge basically requires you to write letters to 30 different people, or things, in your life. You can choose anybody, anything, you feel suits the prompter, and you can write it in whatever style or format you like. It doesn’t have to be serious, and it doesn’t necessarily get read by the people you address. Letter one is to your best friend.

This seems like an easy enough letter to write, but for me it’s slightly more complicated. I don’t have just one best friend.

In my “real life”, I have Gigi, who is my cousin and has known me since birth and has been my best friend since I was 7.
I have MamaDee, who is also my cousin, who I have known since she was born, and who used to follow me around when she was a kid. I always said it bugged me, but I loved having someone who looked up to me... now she's the one I look up to.
I have MamaChelle, who I met in high school and connected with instantly (and is also the only person I remain in constant contact with from high school).
I have Nerf, who I met while in the military... and even though we go through periods where we don't talk, I know that if I ever truly needed something, all I'd have to do is pick up the phone & she'd be there.
I have AT, who I just met last year but who has already become one of my very best friends.

Online, I have @bellie7, @JASaare, @Twimom227, @lilyofdarkness, and @kindlevixen. You might think “Oh, these are just people that you’ve met online. There’s no way they could be your ‘best’ friends. You don’t even know them!” I have news for you – they are better friends to me than some of the people I know in my real life. I know without a doubt that if I’m having a shitty day, all I have to do is call, text, email, or DM one of these women and they will be there for me. I’ve laughed and cried with these women and I’m so lucky to have them all in my life.

So who do I write this letter to?

Well, that’s easy… all of them.




Dear Best Friends,

You are each my best friends for different reasons, but the one common theme with all of you is love. I love you all for vastly different reasons, but I’m truly blessed by God to have you all in my life. I pray that you know just how important you all are to me.
Love,
MK

001. Starting over.

So, I used to have a blog over at WordPress. But there was drama, and I locked it. But I couldn't put a password on it, and that irked me, because not everyone has a WordPress blog, and I'm not going to force people to get a WP login just so they can read my babbling rubbish. Also, you can't embed things like YouTube videos or text boxes, and things like that on WP... and that just sucks. So, I moved to Blogger. Yay, me.

I'm starting over. I could spend time and bring my posts over here, but why bother? That's time I don't have, and effort I don't want to put into rehashing all the shit I've been through.

I have to warn you now... I have a filthy mouth. I'm a former Sailor, and I talk like one. Also, I won't be holding back. I'll talk about whatever's on my mind. If I had a fight with PK, I'm going to hash it out and complain. If I'm reliving a moment in my past that sucked, I won't hold back. If you want to offer your comments, I'm more than happy to hear them. I actually welcome them (because that's kind of the whole point of having an online journal/blog, isn't it?).

What I do not welcome is judgment. I am a human being. I make mistakes just like everyone else. So, I'm going to impose the rule my Momma gave me when I was little:

"If you have something to say, do it nicely. If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything at all."

This is my personal blog. The keyword is personal. Even though I will be using code names (like PK and Monkey), this will be all about my private, personal life. I'm sensitive and I don't like crying or being pissed off. I ramble and babble even when I should shut up, and I tend to write more (blog-wise) when I'm upset and want to complain about something. I'm going to make an attempt to fix that, and write when I'm happy as well. But you know how us chicks are - we love to bitch about shit.

As Faith Hill would say... Take me as I am.