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.