Archive for March, 2013

Easter is Almost Here.

Thursday, March 28th, 2013

For those that celebrate Easter, it’s almost here! I’m going to a relative’s house where I’ll get the chance to watch the little ones look for the hidden eggs in the backyard. I can’t tell you how much I miss doing that! The day my mom told me the Easter Bunny wasn’t real was the day I became sooooo sad. And at the same time, she managed to tell me the tooth fairy and Santa Clause weren’t real too. Talk about a reality check.

Any who, here’s a hilarious picture to laugh at!



Good Books?

Tuesday, March 19th, 2013

I’ve been trying to get back into reading again, but I keep finding books that just aren’t capturing my attention long enough. For example: I’d bought Warm Bodies awhile ago since I watched the movie (loved it) and read an exert on Amazon (loved it). I got halfway through and lost interest. Now it’s gathering dust in my drawer. Same thing happened for a book that was written by a world-renowned author. And for that one, I barely read a few chapters.

So this weekend, I happened to find Beautiful Creatures on sale and thought, what the Hell. Here’s to hoping that book doesn’t let me down.

Can you recommend some good books?



Sick and Tired

Tuesday, March 12th, 2013

So last week, I took it upon myself to take a few days off from work so my husband and I could work on our backyard. Ever since we bought our house (1 1/2 years ago), all we had in the back was dirt and weeds. Sure it worked for barbecuing, but it’s not a very functional area.

This is what my semi-vacation looked like:

Wednesday: It’s our first day off and we haul ass. We shovel, we dig, we pace ourselves and surprisingly actually make really great progress. We turn a useless piece of the land into an area where we can start the process of putting pavers down.

Thursday: I wake up and uh-oh…my back hurts like a son of a gun. It seems I did not shovel the proper way. I try my best to get around, make breakfast, and prepare myself for more work. But then disaster strikes—not more than a 1/2 hour after breakfast, I begin to feel nauseous. WTF?

Still, I push myself outside and try my best, but after ten minutes, I’m forced back inside to rest on the couch. Time passes and I notice how hot I’m feeling. Do I have a temperature? Let’s find out. (messes around with medical equipment) YUP, I HAVE A LOW-GRADE FEVER. *sigh* Looks like either I caught a bug or ate something bad. Doesn’t matter though because now I’m out for the count.

I apologize profusely to my husband (the poor man has to do this on his own now) and sleep.

Friday: Still feel like crap. Do the bare minimum, sit my ass on the couch, and watch TV till the cows come home. Good thing Heather kept me company the whole time because Señior hubby wanted to be nowhere near me (he did not want to get sick).

Saturday: Somewhat better, but still feeling terrible. Try to eat some solids and find my stomach does not agree with that.

Sunday: Oh, what’s that? Is that the sun? I actually venture out of the house to go buy some food. Get home, try to eat, feel sick, and rest some more.

Monday: Holy crap, I feel so much better. But wait, what’s today? DAMMIT!  (Got well just in time for work)

And that’s what happened to me in a nut-shell. Had to endure a lot of hell and didn’t even get to enjoy my time off. Oh well, here’s to hoping next time I don’t get sick.




Friday, March 1st, 2013

The funny thing about being married is the assumption that the next step in life—the next “necessary” step—involves children. And as a woman, I can’t tell you how much I’ve been bugged about when I’m going to have one of my own no matter how much I protest.

You see, I’ve never been a baby person. NEVER. Whenever there was a newborn in the family, I didn’t feel that cuddly need to hold and coo at them.

Friend: “Wanna hold her?”

Me: Eyes person seriously. “No.”

Yeah. Me and babies don’t mix. I’m more of a when-they-learn-to-talk-instead-of-scream type kid person. No offense to parents who are overjoyed with their expanding families. Obviously raising a child worked for you. Awesome.

But I prefer my quiet nights at home after work. There’s this subreddit I found on called /r/childfree and it is excellent. There’s a lot of posts about people who realized (young or old) that babies just weren’t for them and their reasons why. And, unsurprisingly, I can relate to almost all of them.

Please don’t feel sorry or pity for me. There’s nothing wrong with me; I’m not sick and this is my choice. I’m happiest this way. I’d rather be the super cool Aunt or Godmother anyday. Want me to babysit? Sure. But once you come home to collect the love of your life, I get to go home to the two loves of my life—my husband and my cat, Heather.