Sunday, March 30, 2008

my mood...

is best defined right now by the words indescribably angry.

fuming. pissed. irritated beyond all comprehension.

worked...the fuck up.

this morning's text message to the 'pah:

come home. I'm sad. I miss you.

his response:

gotta go check out the new kitchen floor at bob's house.

fuck to you.

I've been in this fucking bed for endless days. sleeping 16 hours a day for no other reason than I feel too fucking shitty to be awake.

I'm tired...of sleeping.

thursday night. he's at a show...I'm in bed.
saturday afternoon. he's shopping for gear...yup, I'm in bed.
sunday. he's galavanting around (is it supposed to make me feel BETTER that so and so's fucking wife could only eat mashed potatoes, too????)...I'm watching dvd's and feeling like shit...you guessed it:

in bed.


this morning after getting my message it took him HOURS...yes. entire fucking HOURS to come home...

then he got all dressed up for a bike ride.

insensitive ass licking twat.

visions of being stranded with an infant (toddler, teenager, et cetera) as daddy's out riding, climbing, partying or whatever flash through my mind.

gigantic dent in trust.

I'm not cut out for this sedentary shit. I'm obviously not handling this well. someone is going to get hurt.

mark my words...he will totally fucking pay for today.

Friday, March 28, 2008

climbing...is out for a while

between the nausea, general malaise and sky-high heart rate...I've decided to hang up my harness for a bit.

perhaps once I've run the gauntlet and am feeling better I'll take another stab at in a body harness, but for now...

I'll take up my place on the sidelines.

sad. sad. sad.

climbing and riding (both sports during which I get to yell. ironic?) were GIGANTIC outlets for me. feeling crappy? climb it out.

pissed at the world? hop on a bike and hit the woods.

yet, I'm feeling so pathetic lately...that both of those things aren't even on the scope for me.

sad. sad. sad.

I was really hard on myself the other day. I think its because I had a break through window of feeling really good for a few hours...

and started planning.

next week I can (blank). tomorrow I should (blank). oh, yeah...it'd be really cool to (blank) soon, too.

then it all came crashing down in another wave of nausea and I felt instantly...

like it's my fault. I feel like every time I lie in bed instead of hike the dogs...my fault.
when the kitchen goes untended for three days and things start growing in the sink...my fault.
the dogs are bored the kid is eating doritos for breakfast...my fault. my fault. my fault.

I feel like if my attitude were just a little bit better, or if I was concentrating hard enough...I'd feel well, again. I feel like I should be able to will myself out of this.

so when I don't...

definitely my fault.

I'm feeling so down on myself...that the little "push me" voice in the back of my head is this-very-minute bitching at me for even typing the words "my fault."

aaaaagh! there is no doubt that how I feel physically and how I feel mentally are connected...

I'm just having trouble identifying causality.

do I feel like shit because I feel like shit?

or do I feel like shit because I feel like shit?

hmmmm...

either way, I've decided that I need some sort of outlet (and since its most certainly NOT going to be eating. food is fucking disgusting...)...

I'm going to get creative, again. I whipped out a few of my old craft magazines and tried to get motivated. I thought of picking up my knitting needles and getting to work on some baby booties. I imagined the sunroom painting being done and my brand spanking new craft room taking up residence there...

then I took another nap.

then I ate an orange (this is big news, btw...my fruit aversion has been tremendous).

then I tried to eat some hummus (no luck).

then I started to type.

of course...all of those things have, once again, made me nauseous...and I can feel the creativity seeping out of me.

water. maybe I need water. did they ever tell you you could have an aversion to water???

yeah. I do. the very sight of a glass of water makes me wanna wretch. milk...forget it. juice...no way.

maybe if I got good and hydrated I could stop the cycle of feeling like shit.


so there's my new plan. drink water. make stuff. stop feeling like shit.


I'll let ya know how that works out...

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

let's see if I can't make this interesting

nope.

can't.

it boils down to nothing but a countdown for me at this point. I am taking the "you'll feel better after the first trimester" to a whole new level.

5 weeks. 2 days. 2 hours. 12 minutes.

that's how long I should have to wait before feeling human, again.

if it's any longer than that, I vow to you now...

I will absolutely, categorically, without question...

fucking kill myself.

not to say that feeling like stir-fried ass isn't interesting and all...but I'd much rather be able to poo, eat, walk, converse normally and smile, again.

yeah, yeah. it's worth it. yeah, yeah...hormones doing their job. yeah, yeah...for the baby.

yada yada.

I know. why do you think I haven't offed myself, yet? I did, however, have a lil napmare yesterday that kinda involved self-harm. ok. it involved straight up self-harm...but it was unintentional, I swear.

I was so bloated and bowel distended and...you get the point...that I had a dream that I woke up stabbing myself in the abdomen.

of course, they hauled me off to the loonie bin for trying to kill the bebbie...

when really...I was just trying to take a poo.

while this particular idea manifested itself in the form of a bad dream...I'm not so certain it precludes it from being a good idea.

if things don't start, shall we say...moving along of their own volition...

it might come down to the knife.


in other news:

my students are still boneheads.
my daughter is getting two c's (I just might end up using the knife on HER).
the 'pah is still unemployed.
and I can still smell EVERYTHING as if it were in ultra condensed form, formed into a pellet and shoved up my nose.

Monday, March 24, 2008

just the beginning (aka 4mm)

we saw the sprout today.

nothing more than a flutter and some fuzz...

and we both cried.

we could see its little heart going. 109 beats/minute...just like its momma, lately. they adjusted my due date south. I say south because when things go south...they are bad.

and because they added 4 more days to my gauntlet (ie. 1st pukey trimester)...I considered that bad.

I was hoping we might get some monumental news...like I'm due any day or that we're have gazillionettes...yet was strangely satisfied and awe struck at seeing just one...

one little flutter.

I'm amazed upon waking every single morning at the sheer depth and power of my love for this man...and now we have yet another monkey to share this with.

true love....


just the beginning.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

reprieve

I feel better. soooooo much better.

whether this respite is temporary or not...I'll take it!

I'll take it to regain the 6 lbs I lost in the last two days.

I'll take it to actually get out of bed and feel human.

I'll take it to maybe...just MAYBE venture a meal...

and if I keep feeling relatively stellar...

I might even hazard a disgusting vomit and constipation inducing pre-natal vitamin.


but...probably not.


have a great easter, everyone!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

no mas, por favor. NO MAS!!!

this baby is trying to kill me.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

it's all good.

we're not worried, yet.

we're looking at this as the potential for a little much needed vacay.

he's got prospects...and an interview tomorrow.

if things don't go well tomorrow we might start crying blood...but as of right now:

the dog's chewing a bone.
he's painting the bathroom.
I'm bloated.
and the only thing we're really concerned about is that its been too wet to ride.



in other news:

we climbed the other day. I wore a heart rate monitor. conservative guidelines state a maximum first trimester heart rate of 140.

the athletes disagree. they say that 165 is fine for women who are conditioned and accustomed to heavy exercise.

since I fall somewhere in between lazy ass american and marathon running psycho...I was giving myself 160.

woops.

halfway up each climb I was approaching 175.

NIGGA WHAT?????

my resting heart rate went from about 65 to 85+.
belaying clocked me in at 112.
standing around looking dumb after a climb was about 130.

they say your heart rate increases in the first trimester...but oh.my.holy.god.

I walked up two flights of steps today and thought i was going to implode. no WONDER I feel light headed...

my heart is going to burst every time I scratch my ass. and my perceived level of exertion has ZERO to do with my actual heart rate. looks like I'll be sporting a monitor every time I wanna touch a bike, a rope or hike the dogs.

soooo...I got off the pumpy over-hung climbs and stuck to easy slabby jobs.

not much change. my heart rate was the same on 7's, 8's, 9's and...

wellll, I didn't climb no 10's.

I'm lazy and chubby, already.

awesome.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

I want to know.

I want to know who THAT guy is.

the guy who either accidentally or otherwise...let it get back to the partners that oqui was "talking about the company."

I wanna know who the person is that opened their mouth about a co-worker and friend of almost 10 years...

and got him fired.

I want to know what their motivation was...and what, precisely, they hoped to gain.

I want to know what they're thinking right now as he's clearing out his desk and coming home, unemployed, to his pregnant girlfriend.


yeah...I wanna know who the guy is who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.


so I can tell him:


FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, DOUCHEBAG.

Friday, March 14, 2008

morning...not so much sickness...

10:30

shivering. coollllllllldddd. "oqui, can you get us some water?"
is tap ok?
no. the chlorine smell makes me gag. can you go get the pitcher.

he grumbles. he's tired. doesn't wanna go downstairs.

"I'd get it myself...but it's freezing down there"

bundled in comforters, shivering, praying for warmth.


3:30 am

I find it. wide awake. sweating like the devil. tossing, turning and otherwise NOT sleeping...again.

oy.

3:31 am

waaaaaaaay too hot. lose the socks and sleeves and try to wake the 'pah up to suffer with me. he's tired and rolls over to offer comfort...instead he brings heat. I love ya, baby...but you gotta get the hell away from me. my skin is melting.

3:32

can't stand this anymore. I'm being incinerated. I walk sans socks downstairs and stand in the open fridge doorway. I grab a banana for when my tummy feels yicky later (that's around 4:30 these days) and put my face against the cold fridge door.

I decide that peeing might help and plant my bare bum on the frigid seat. SPLENDID. (bear in mind that I will normally either hold it all night, hover, wait til someone else warms it or take a hairdryer to the seat to avoid cold shock to my ass)

3:34

back in bed. ugh. my belly hurts.

NO.

mind over matter. cuddle up with the 'pah. convince myself that his heat is healing and try my hardest to give him my chills and yicky belly.

^ nice of me, eh? just trying to let a honkie share in the experience, is all.

3:45

still awake. freezing, again. socks and sleeves back on.

4:10

awake

4:30

awake

4:45

awake and nauseous. banana time

5:30

awake, nauseous and irritated

5:31

sleeping like a baby.

aaaaaaahhh.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

vindicated

the administration is of the belief that throwing the marker was NOT intended to hurt anyone (duh) and that all other accusations were horse pookie.

upon hearing that I wasn't going to get my ass handed to me, the parents asked "now what do we do?"

the administrator's response was: "nothing. it's over."

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahaha

ha.

bitch.

ha.

so you worked your child into a foaming lathering mess for nothing. what a bitch.

perhaps if this particular set of parents of the year would display a little emotional control from time to time...their children would've laughed along with the 30 other kids in the class when I acted goofy.

whatev. I can't help them all...particularly when they've been told to distrust me because I'm white (no lie. this was made into a racial thing. never mind the fact that I grew up in the same damn hood as these people and I was the minority).

my personnel file is clear. I'm welcome back at that school to sub (at my own risk, of course) and the person who gave my phone number to the parent has already apologized to the principal.

I was asked to meet with the curriculum director. I said I can do it tomorrow.

if I play my cards right (and bring my own tape dispenser)...maybe I can still get myself good and fired.

pants - part 24,546,464,534,365,753,452

they don't fit.

they didn't fit prior to creating the demon seed...and they don't fit now. they fit yesterday...but the don't fit now.

I am wearing a pair of pants that I used to wear for climbing - with another pair underneath.

and they're tight all by their lonesome.

its glorious.

this must be the largest grain of sand on the planet.

I still can't really believe it. I've "known" in the way a woman "knows" for weeks...but didn't really KNOW know.

now that I know...I'm still waiting for someone to call me and say "whoops. we made a mistake...you're just chubby with the stomach flu"

although I have to be fair here...its not the sprout's fault I'm pudging up. I made the decision months ago to put on some pounds. I was told, "If you want to get pregnant, you need to gain some weight."

cool. can I borrow your pants.

I love being pregnant. I'm almost a little upset (by almost I mean I cried about it the other night...but haven't yet again since) that I'm not MORE pregnant.

sick or huge or waddling or something.

by this point in my prior pregnancy I was hooked up to IV's hanging on for dear life...so I'm sorta having trouble believing that I'm really baking a baby because I'm not vomitting my guts out.

hallelujah.

I will absolutely treasure every single moment of this seemingly easy breezy no problems yet pregnancy.

...and I'll try not to worry that the sprout changed its mind.


fortunately, I have sore boobs, an overwhelming desire to nap like its my job, and an aversion to


-CAN YOU BELIEVE I'M GOING TO SAY THIS????-

chocolate to remind me that the lil' fella is still hanging out with me.


who needs chocolate, anyway?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

suki and the sprout

that's it. I can't wait any longer.


I hafta, hafta HAFTA tell it.

we're having a baby!!

I only have about 43 seconds before I need to pick my kids up from library...but I just HADTA say it.

I'm pregnant!

baby, baby, baby...

I'm so excited its bordering on retardation...and I'm sure everyone I know will be sick of me by the end of next week.

my mother got 15 phone calls the first day.

1. I'm pregnant
2. Hey, I'm still pregnant.
3. Did you know its as big as a grain of sand right now?
...
15. Ok. I'm going to bed...still pregnant.


I'm thinking of starting a new blog devoted entirely to my baby blubberings...or maybe I'll do a limited version here.

we shall see.


but for now....


just letting y'all know...

I'm still pregnant.

my answer to the allegations

Mr. T,

Firstly, I would like to apologize for all of the inconvenience, stress and concern this incident has caused; not just for you and Mrs. F, but mostly for the students and families involved. When I go to work in the morning, the very last thing I want to do is walk away from a day having left a child feeling uncomfortable. I know that these children (and families) are under stress to begin with...and never intend to add to that. My intentions are, quite literally, just the opposite of that.

Secondly, I'll specifically address what I understand to be the parents' concerns. I did toss two markers during the course of the day in Mrs. Conrad's classroom. The first time I threw it towards the back of the classroom to hit the closet door. I elicited approximately two dozen giggles. All eyes were on me; smiling- the desired effect. When substituting, I make every effort to identify personally with each child, but sometimes do not have the time to learn each child's name. If I remember correctly this room had 18 or 19 little girls in it making it nearly impossible, without a seating chart, to learn their names.Therefore I often employ some rather energetic and eccentric techniques to gain the class's attention.

I've been known to walk around the room on desks, "accidentally" drop a stack of books or metal mug, tap the leg of a chair with my foot, flash the lights, clap a rhythm, clear my throat with exaggeration and mimicry (ie. imagine an elephant rolling it's eyes) and other assorted techniques probably taught in clown college or juggling school.

Let's just say that I tend to perform. The second marker that I tossed was meant to hit the front whiteboard. At this point there were 32 children in the room for Math Intervention, and as far as I could tell...it was going extremely well. Every seat in the room was filled, and the majority of the children were engaged, focused and interested in the lessons (probably because their goofy substitute was dancing around the room, picking "teacher's helpers" to review the problems with them). When I tossed the second marker, again, it was meant to elicit giggles, get their eyes on me, and recenter the group. My only guess as to why this incident is being misinterpreted, specifically, is because several of the children had not spent the beginning of the day with me and had not been previously introduced to my "style."

I admit fully to the above things and am, quite frankly, saddened by such a negative reaction to playful, well-intentioned "fooling." It saddens me that a family would have such difficulty interpreting a friendly gesture. I NEVER walk into a classroom with intention of causing harm, and when I leave one having done so...I have, regardless of intention, failed at my job.

There are other accusations, however, that I can not answer. At no point during the day did I hit a child with a tape dispenser. I don't know what incident is being referring to and can only answer that with an "It didn't happen." I would also like to offer the same statement for any allegations of hitting, kicking or otherwise physically harming a child. It, quite simply, did not happen.

I am in these schools everyday with the intention of offering some perspective and a smiling face from an adult who is approachable. I teach them environmental lessons. I try to teach them self-confidence, by encouraging students to stand up and "use their teacher voices." I always encourage them to do their best. I attempt to show them ways to improve themselves, make a difference, show kindness...and most importantly, develop drive and initiative. I do NOT go there to ridicule, attack or harm.

I am afraid both my intentions and actions have been misinterpreted.

I believe that if I had had the opportunity to meet with the parents initially, I would have been able to convince them of my intentions and diffuse the situation. I am, quite obviously, very upset that it has come this far. I would ask, however, that personal information such as my cell phone number not be given to any more parents. When I answered the phone call from Miss Rodriguez, I began the conversation as if she were a district employee, and was shocked to find that she was not.

Please feel free to contact me if you require any further information and assistance in this matter. My hope is that some way is found to still diffuse it. While I would love for the parents to find some measure of comfort in this, more importantly...I will do anything within my power to ease the children's concerns.

Sincerely,
"Miss Suki"

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

do no harm.

that is the one thing (and trust me when I say it is the ONE thing) they tell you when you prove yourself not to be a criminal and show up to be a sub in an inner-ghetto district.

do no harm.

there is no talk, whatsoever, of actually doing good. contributing. helping. making these kids see things from a different perspective.

do no harm.

specifically, they are referring to not disrupting the classroom schedule, routines or general flow...

but I'm guessing they would probably include not starting a full-scale riot of parents in that category, as well.

oops.

this could be a very long story...and someday it might be, but I'm beat. emotionally, physically, mentally de-stroy-ed.

I'm tired.

today I was accused of doing MANY innapropriate things to an entire class of 3rd graders.

among the accusations were:

-hitting one with a tape dispenser
-kicking one under a chair
-throwing markers at them (this is kinda true...I've been known to toss a marker to make a point...but always in humor. despite what these looking-for-a-payoff parents believe...I actually LIKE these kids)
-frightening a child so badly that she refuses to return to school

I poured my heart out with that class last week. 32.children.packed.into.an.undersized.room...

and miss suki performed all day to keep them interested.

do no harm.

the parents literally rioted the school and administration buildings today. the went to the director of human resources, the head of elementary education and anyone else with their name on a wall.

the principal and other teachers in the building back me.
most of the students (including one who caught the ricochet of a wayward marker and said I look like a superstar) back me.
the administration rates the parents' concerns a 0 on a scale from 1 to 10...

yet, I feel completely shattered.

how sad that a person who tries to take as much energy as I do to this seemingly thankless job gets targeted for a witch hunt.

what disturbs me more than the fact that I'm being smeared...is the fact that these families are so repressed, denied and discriminated against that they even feel the need to do it.

what's wrong when a kid can't take a well-intentioned joke???
how bad is that child's life???

how on earth did I scare the little girl with pigtails and the harmonica into not wanting to come back to school???

do no harm.

the witch hunt knows no bounds. the irate parents (ie. single moms in the projects) are targeting the principal, as well.

a woman I've never met...

for defending me.

maybe...just maybe...

its because their anger is misplaced and they're obviously out of control?


goddamn.

since when is showing a little concern and spunk a threat to a child?

this is breaking my fucking heart.

I don't MEAN to do harm.

I have to get out of here.

Monday, March 10, 2008

it was a good news weekend.

both the 'pah and I got some much needed reassurance this weekend.

thank goodness.

we were stressed beyond comprehension and starting (just starting, mind you) to take it out on each other.

well, NO MORE!!!

I got my accepance letter to nursing school (which I'll be deferring for a year) and he got so uber good professional news.


more on all of that later.

for now...

I NAP!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

we just increased our carbon footprint

because every single outdoor light is now being left on at night. we're lighting this 'hood up like a sunufabitchin roman candle.

why?

so they don't steal the tires off of OUR cars, too.


yes. it's like that.

I swear to god, I live in suburban Compton.

we woke up the other morning to a knock on the door.

me: (looking out the window) oh, oq. I think they want you to move your car so the tow-truck can get in.
oq: huh? they wanna tow my car???
me: no. they wanna tow the neighbor's car.
oq: oh, no. why?
me: well...cause it doesn't have any fucking tires on it.

at least they had the courtesy to dismantle a neighboring garden wall to pull out the appropriately sized stones to jack it up.

ingenious thieving bastards.

really, their efforts are stellar.

normally, we turn the outside lighting off when we go to bed b/c there isn't a whole hella lot of foot traffic in this neck of the 'burbs. our street is fairly busy in terms of vehicular traffic...

but not too many mofickers decide to take a late night stroll around here. not like theres a 24 hour corner store...

or even street lights for that matter.


which is why, dear friends, we, as a neighborhood, have put ginormous, high wattage bulbs out front and back, set those bitches to burn...

and are all but daring the next set of tire stealing punks to set foot in this 'hood.


I swear to all things holy...

if somebody tries to set foot in this house, I will beat the bloody hell outta them with my great grandmother's skillet.




...again.

Friday, March 7, 2008

lata!

I hate my job.

it is so overwhelmingly frustrating. to be honest...I'm not sure how much longer I can take it.

I owe them 34.5 (yes. I counted down to the HALF fucking day) more days this school year. there are 58 remaining.

if I work three days every week I will JUST make it.

I created a pull off, count down calendar today.

35...tear.
34...shred.
32...getting closer.
...
18...fuck you. I'm almost outtie.
...
10...
9...

fuck it. I think I'll stop just shy of fulfilling my contract and let them send me a fucking bill.

it'll be worth the pleasure of spending the very first day following my "I'm outta here. Suck my labia" send off driving around the city giving each building the finger...

then never. going. back.

once I'm done "teaching" in this fucked up, twisted shithole...nothing short of a gun to my head will get me back in that fucking city.


the school administration has wiped its hands of the matter and is effectively dooming this city.

in 10 or 15 years the fucking retards, mongloids, rejects, criminals and losers I fight with on a daily basis are going to have FAMILIES...and be adult members of this community.

no thank you. these cock-smokers can't be held accountable for covering their asses (I'm not making that up. they walk around with their asses hanging out)...

let alone keeping a job and, oh-I don't know, BEING PRODUCTIVE FUCKING MEMBERS OF SOCIETY.

this place is doomed and I blame every over-paid, lazy, piece of shit administrator who doesn't hold these fucking hoodlums accountable for their actions, now.

way to go, assfaces. you pretty much guarantee with the close of another school year an increase in child abuse, violent crime and unemployment.

burn in hell, you mercedes driving cuntoxes.


I tried.

in about 27 or so days...

I'm fucking outta here.

I can has bad grammar?

got my TEAS scores.

99th percentile for the program.
95th nationally.

(I'm totally wondering how the chic next to me with the quick answers and the big boobs did...)

100% on both chemistry and metric conversions (the two things I biffed on the practice test).
100% on physics.
100% on biology and general science.
100% on punctuation, spelling and contextual words.

I was below the national average on percentage calculations and grammar at 66.7% and 76.0%, respectively.

I biffed up the easiest math on the test and I has bad grammar.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHAHAHAHAHAHAH


the applications go to the committee...soon. which means I'll know within a week whether or not I got in.

now, I have to decide...


am I really going to nursing school?
can we afford to live on one income?
will I stab somebody in the throat...intentionally?

too many options makes a suki sleepy. (see? with the grammar...)

ps. anybody wanna buy my house?

Thursday, March 6, 2008

return o' da fat bitch

if any of you remember...at the end of last school year I was having trouble with a fakey tanned, acrylic nailed sasquatch teacher.

the bitch made a re-appearance yesterday (hence my "THIS SCHOOL IS FULL OF CUNTS" entry).

I hate her. I completely forget her existance for months and months and months on end...then I go back to that school, wind up in her negative, condescending and bitter presence and instantly remember:

I fucking hate this chick.

everytime she oozes something nasty in my direction I want to kill her.


she's big, though.

tough, too, apparently.

I'm tiny, a wee bit scrappy...

but this monster plays ice hockey.


still...if she gives me one more nasty look or shoots off another caustic comment...

I'm gonna throw a chair at her enormous ass.




...then run like hell.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

dogs learn faster than I do.

I hate this fucking school.

I love the kids here ('magine that?!?!)...but despise DESPISE despise a large enough portion of this faculty to make my days here miserable.

miserable, out-right rude, inconsiderate cunts.

and they let it filter down and wear off on their kids.



if I had the time and enough car batteries...


i teach a few of these bitches a lesson.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

I made it...

through both my day at the highschool from hell (ghetto. so motherfucking ghetto) and my "commute" home.

it involved 2 buses, one terminal, a mile or so of walking and an hour and 20 minutes...

mostly because i got uber car sick and had to bail at a stop light...

then walk home in the pouring rain.


I love you, Marmot rain jacket.

we then picked up the Volvo ($700. I hate you, mechanic)...and proceeded to drop off the Suby.

I have no idea how I'm getting to/from work again, tomorrow.



...and I'm still nauseous.


HOWEVZ...I live. nobody smacked a suki...and I was only told to shut the fuck up (by a kid on juvy probation) once.


a decent day (<-------My! How my standards have slipped)

sissy baby chicken----------------------->

I'm afraid to ride my bike home from the high school.

I'm also afraid to walk.

and its pretty damn far.


I've got a ride in with the 'pah...no plans yet on how I'll get home.


I said I'd never go back to that school, because they kept attacking me PHYSICALLY.

pray for me...I dont' wanna get mugged.

Monday, March 3, 2008

4:30 am potty break.

the dog put his cold wet nose on my cold bare pre-butt...

and woke me up right smack dab in the middle of REM sleep.

I then tossed and turned for 2 hours NOT getting back to sleep and feeling like I was in a coma.


needless to say...

the suki didn't make it to work today (my car is elsewhere)...

and as my punishment I will be removing all the old carpet from the basement in preparation for the new stuff.


why does my house always look coziest and comfiest right before I try to sell it? the last house I sold I had this huuuge rec room that was uncarpeted the entire time I lived there.

got that bitch on the market, carpeted this gigantic half-house size room...

then didn't want to sell it. I'm afraid the spiffy newly carpeted and freshly painted basement might do the same for me here.

'cept that this time....

I can't POSSIBLY afford to stay.

what saint is that I need to bury to sell this bitch???