Okay, so I'm sure I'm not the only one. In fact, I bet the majority of people have googled themselves.
I googled my name and up came this woman who I believe lives in California, is slightly older than me, and seems much nicer.
I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Makes me feel like I have an entirely different online identity, one that's not even near accurate. Do I believe in God? Absolutely, without doubt. Would I create an entire website devoted to my beliefs? Probably not. Is that horrible sounding? Absolutely.
Anyway, as I'm new to this whole blogging experience, I figured I would say a little about myself.
I work in an office building, in a field I always fantasized myself in. To say that the fantasy has yet to live up to the reality would be putting it mildly. I have two boys, the first of which was born when I was sixteen. I totally should've been on that show MTV has out "Sixteen and Pregnant". I've been with my husband since I was fourteen, and I completely love him, but I've wondered periodically if I'd still be with him if it weren't for our oldest. We've mutually agreed that we probably wouldn't have made it. He gave us something to work for, although that is DEFINITELY not my recommendation for young kids to go off and get pregnant so that they can maybe, hopefully, most likely not, keep hold of some teenage boy. It worked out for us, which is definitely a rarity. It was more luck than anything, that we didn't grow apart as we grew up. Trust me, we've had our moments, but sheer stubbornness on both our parts helped us get through some of the tougher times.
He's an asshole, but a cute one.
And me? Well, hello??? I'm perfect(ly delusional, but whatever).
Our youngest son is like a big shiny present. That's what I tell him. I'm not quite sure what he's going to grow up to be, and I love that. He's so smart, but more than that, he's one of the most imaginative people I've ever met, and even though I'd like to say he got it from me, I can't take the credit. Honestly, we're not sure where he came from.
Our oldest is a typical jock. Honestly. He's not stupid, he's just air headed. His little brother runs circles around him in the burn department. A is constantly standing there trying to think of a comeback while D is on to the next burn.
A is a left handed pitcher. He lives, breaths and sleeps baseball. At least until recently. Recently, girls have officially been discovered. We're doing our best to keep him focused, as I don't want to be a grandma at 32, but mostly, I don't want him to face the same struggles we went through as teen parents. It's HARD! My best friend had her first baby at 25 and it was hard for her. Subtract a decade off of living experience and maybe you'll see what a difficult task it was to raise a child when you're just a child yourself. We have great parents, but trust me, no one was willing to raise our son for us. We did it and are continuing to do it to the best of our ability with what we've got. A is our learning curve, D is the final product. :-)
To get me, you have to know about them. M and I argue while we communicate, usually not loudly, and not aggressively, it's more of a loving conversation to us, but to outsiders, people think we are fighting. Our kids actually listen to us and smile. We amuse them. Maybe it's because we're so close in age.
We don't fight so much anymore. Bicker, sure. Fight? No.
So anyway, I'm 29, with two kids, a good husband and a boring job. Life's perfect.
I live in Florida, and today, my town is officially the hottest town in the country. It made the front headline of our local paper. "Yankee" is still a slur down here in this part of the country, and even though the majority of people you meet down here bitch about them, we know that our entire economy would go to crap without them. Even worse than it already has. They are the necessary evil. But could you please, please, please stay in the slow lane? And maybe lose the fannie packs? And the socks w/sandals? And stop photographing our bugs in the middle of parking lots? Jeez, people, it's a damn beetle (or cockroach, or maybe even a freaky looking spider), but not interesting enough to where I have to sit and wait for you to get your picture evidence. I'm sure there's a picture online somewhere.
I love summer. Even when it's about 100 degrees outside, with the heat index at about 115 and the humidity factor through the roof, I think it's wonderful. Beach days are the best. You get in your itty bitty bikini, grab a boogie board, some sun screen and a towel and drive to the East coast....wear yourself out on the water, and then stuff yourself with pizza...Those are good days.
The afternoon thunderstorms are violent. Lightning, thunder, rain coming in sideways, flooding the streets in a matter of minutes. Sometimes hail ruining paint jobs all over town. And after it's over, the way the air smells...Ahh..The only thing that annoys me about it is if you're wearing jeans, no matter how far you roll them up, you're going to step in a puddle just deep enough to get the hem damp. That's annoying.
The state of Florida is beautiful, if you can get past the cars, the people and the amusement parks. Sure, we have hurricanes, but not a lot of tornadoes, no earthquakes, no blizzards, and we ARE above sea level. Barely, but we are above it.
Let's see....I'm a horrible singer, but not shy about doing kareoke. I'm tall, skinny and have ugly feet. I live in a big house that I don't have time to clean, but hate, hate, hate, dirty houses. I love girly movies, shows, but I'm not that big on randomly shopping for things. Sports are my thing. The rules of most sports I know, basketball being the weakest, hockey the strongest. I know....I LOVE hockey, but live in Florida. My brother in law introduced me about eight, nine years ago and it stuck. Competitive to a fault. Truly. I messed up my hamstring a few weeks ago while doing a split because I was challenged. It's amazing I'm not a lesbian with all the stupid male tendencies/testosterone I have. Dare me to do something? I'll do it, and I'll do it better than you.....You ever saw that episode of Friends, where Monica is playing ping pong? That's totally me. Except I suck a ping pong, so I refuse to play. Corn hole? I'm so there.
I began working out a little over three months ago. I completed the P90X routine last week and have now moved on the Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred. I'm on day 2, and it's hardddddd.
Want to know why I started working out? I began playing softball and when I tried to run to first, I felt as though the flesh on the fronts of my thighs was peeling off of the bone and an older woman in a knee brace had to pinch run for me. See? My competitive nature rearing its head. But at least it motivated me to get into shape. Now, if there was only something I could do about my ugly feet....
I have no pets and I don't want any pets. It's not that I hate them or anything, but why would I willingly subject myself to it? I had a dog from the time I was three (my first memory includes him) and he died when I was a teenager. It was awful. I refuse to put myself through that again. I know I'm totally making my kids miss out, but I honestly don't want to go through that again. The excuse that we don't have time to properly care for a dog comes in handy. I say dog because my husband hates cats.
And honestly? I REALLY don't want dog hair in my house. I'm selfish, I know (Just don't tell my husband that I confessed to any flaw, please).
So, there is a little about me. Probably no one will read this, but if you do, bear in mind that I'm new...:-)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Okay, so embarrassingly enough, I love teeny bopper shows, movies, mags, etc. Twilight? Right on. One Tree Hill. I'm so there. Anyway, I caught an episode of The Hills on mtv the other night, which I haven't watched in a few seasons, and I thought I would go to Best Buy and purchase a season or two on dvd to get caught up.
Well, of course, there is only one line open (why did they even put in multiple registers if they're not going to use them?) and two customers up is this guy who decides to buy an extended warranty (people REALLY do that, apparently) and the line behind me is growing.
Well, there I stand, a twenty nine year old woman, kind of embarrassed because I'm holding not one, but TWO seasons of this show that I know is extremely cheesy and WAY to young for me. So I'm trying to discreetly hide the covers (even thought THE HILLS is glaringly apparent on the edges) and watching the bored clerk run through his spiel on warranties. Anywayz, the clerk was this attractive black man, maybe twenty two, twenty three years old, and excessively, overly obviously, gay. (Not that there is anything wrong with that) Didn't think anything of it until its my turn to check out and he starts raving over the show...
clerk: "Girl, I totally missed it last night! Was it any good?"
me (turning pink, I'm sure): Yes
clerk: "I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE The Hills!"
me (mumbling and looking around): Yeah
clerk: "But I hate that bitch Kristen! I was so pissed when Lauren left!"
Okay, so now I'm officially engaged in the conversation.
me: Did you watch it when it was Laguna? That's when it was GOOD.
clerk: Yes, and I hated that bitch back then, too.
This guy is a trip. Totally fantabulous. (Ripped the word off from my most favoritest waiter Josh - maybe I could set them up when Josh breaks up with his boyfriend in NY?)
me: She made the show fun! Remember Stephen?
clerk: Oh, what a cutie!
me: I know! Love, love, love him! (now I'm just throwing his words back at him, and not even in a sarcastic manner)
At this point the crowd behind us in not even remotely enjoying our conversation, so I move on....
My friend Jen said that I can relate to teenagers and gay guys....what does that say about me? Should I grow up? Maybe become more mature? Wouldn't that totally suck? I need my care free outlets, thank you very much and if that includes totally random (word from Laguna) conversations with extremely cute gay guys in the middle of Best Buy, so be it....