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.