Tuesday, October 16, 2012

It's my stupid birthday again

So tomorrow is my birthday and once again I'm a bummed out pile of whiny.  I hate my birthday.  I've hated it for as long as I can remember.  Most people want piles of presents, maybe a party, or to just be with their family.  I like to sit on my ass, maybe have a drink or 12, watch tv or read a book, and just to be left alone.  Bake me a cake and get out of my face.  Sounds kind of harsh doesn't it? 

As far back as I can remember most of my birthday's have sucked major donkey balls.  I honestly can't remember a good one I've had since I was about 14.  Even my 21st which is supposed to be the birthday of all birthdays kind of ended up sucking in the end.  I ended up taking care of a bunch of drunk, puking fools all night and making sure no punches were thrown. :-/  Now making fun of drunk idiots can be amusing, but not when they are puking in your car, or fighting.  I'm a small girl.  I can't be trying to break up a fight between two big grown ass men, and I shouldn't have to. 

On top of all that someone usually picks a fight with me on my damn day.  Never fails, a snarky smart ass, rude comment will be thrown my way.  Never freaking fails!  This is why I normally end up avoiding all people except for my immediate family, and I even avoid them a little.

Now normally I'm a glass half full kind of girl, but when you are going on your 31st birthday and you can only look back and remember one kick ass day out of 31, it tends to jade you a little.  I always start out the month with a little skip, and little optimism, but as the dreaded day gets a little closer, I get a little more pissy.  I can't help it.

Now I can tell you two things that have been done for me to redeem my day.  This year my husband and sister bought me tickets to go to a show, and meet some stars from the show after it was over.  This absolutely made my year.  My birthday will still suck as it usually does, but I will have the memories from that awesome day, and no asshat can take that away. 

The second was after my 21st.  I was dating this guy that completely ruined my birthday.  He was one of the drunken idiots.  The following weekend we went out again to try and salvage my birthday, and guess who got drunk and started acting like an idiot?  Yep that guy.  So I made him leave, and went out with my husband who was just my friend at the time.  We spent my birthday at a strip club, and a couple dance clubs.  Now that was an interesting day, and maybe a blog post for another day.

Anywho, I'm sorry to be such a debbie downer, but as you can tell I hate my birthday.  I try and stay positive anyway, and occasionally feel a little excitement about it, but it's just hard to stay positive about a day that's shit on you for the last 16 years.  I love my husband, because since the day we became friends he's tried to make it a special day for me, and no matter what he always gets at least a little smile out of me on the poo day.  So today and tomorrow I'll be hiding out on my couch in my yoga pants.  I probably won't even wash for the occasion.  I'll try to stay a little positive and at least be happy about living another year, but I can't make any promises. 


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

My girl

Now I know you've all heard me talking a lot about the girl lately.  I'm just so damn proud of her I can't help it.  I'm going to tell you a little bit about her, and hopefully you won't get sick of hearing me talk so much about her.  She's just been through so much that she deserves praise, and love even if it's from random internet folks who she will probably never meet. 

I met the girl 14 years ago, and she's been part of our family ever since.  I went to school with her parents.  She's always been like a niece to me.  Sometimes a bratty niece that I wanted to toss out the window, but a family member nonetheless.  She stood up in my wedding, and we picked her up all the time to spend weekends with our kids.

A few years ago she came to live with my family.  I won't get into all the details on this, because I don't want to badmouth anyone.  I'll just say she'll be with us until she's 18 or older, and her parents have exposed her to things that no adult should even be exposed to.

Despite all the things that she has seen, she's been an honor roll student since the day she started school.  She's been to about 7 different schools in her short life, and still managed to keep those grades up.  She's even had a ton of absences and late days, up until she came to live with us, and still stayed an A student.  I got a letter from her school last week.  She has to go take some tests because she scored so high on her state standardized testing last year.  Now I have it in writing that she's gifted.  She'll be taking high school level tests.  Tests that kids take to get placed in college.  How amazing is that?  

Did I mention she can sing?  Like really sing.  One thing I love is music, and very few people can move me to tears, but she does every time.  Once when she was much younger, she was singing at her schools talent show and the teacher accidentally stopped the cd.  Most kids would have died on the spot.  Not the girl.  She stood up there on the stage, and told her teacher to start the song over and then she nailed that song for the second time.  Last weekend she was invited to sing the National Anthem for a breast cancer benefit at a racetrack near us.  She was so nervous she was shaking.  I walked her around the park and encouraged her as much as I could.  By the time she went on she was calm enough to do it.  Nailed it!  People came up to me outside to tell me they thought she was professional singer and they couldn't believe she was only 14.  The caption on her photo for the racetracks fb page says she was one of the best the park has ever had.  I can't even tell you how proud I am.

I love that girl, and I'm so very proud of her.  I tell her this every single day.  We have talks about what she's going to do with the rest of her life, and I reassure her that she is better than her family ever was.  She's smart, she's beautiful, and she's a total sweetheart.  She helps me with the housework, cooking, and even taking care of the other kids.  She's made dinner for us on more than one occasion just because she wanted to.  Last night she did two loads of laundry after she finished her homework without me even asking her to. 

I'm so happy and blessed to have her in my life, and to have her be part of this family.  I actually couldn't imagine my life without her now.  I don't hate her parents.  I feel sorry for them.  They have missed so many great moments.  All her solos at her school concerts, all the awards she's been given, and what a great kid she's become.  We couldn't save them.  I'm still heartbroken over that.  All we can do is make sure that their daughter doesn't turn out like them.  So far I think we've done a pretty good job.  Way to go girl!     


Tuesday, October 9, 2012

My addiction

People have told me I drink too much.  Truth is, I don't drink enough.  Two to three alcoholic beverages a week is about average for me, depending on the kind of week I've had or if there is a party going on.  If there's a party double that number.  If I run out of booze (that never happens) I don't crawl around shaking, sniffing rubbing alcohol, or go begging for money for my next bottle.  I just make a wish for more beer when that happens, and then I drink some chamomile tea. 
Want to know what I'm addicted to?  COFFEE!  Like I'm so addicted to coffee I would lose my mind if coffee went away tomorrow.  I would beg, steal, and maybe even sell my children for one little sweet cup of that amazing bitter devil juice.  Here's a story about my coffee addiction.  This is also probably in the top five angriest moments of my life.  A bear almost lost his life over this.

A few years ago we only had one vehicle.  We lived in a very small town but there was a store and gas station, kind of in walking distance.  Me and the little walked there a few times a week to pick up extra things we needed, or just to get out of the house. 
One dreadful morning I woke up and went straight to the coffee pot, like I do every single day.  I opened up the coffee container and to my horror, there was only about two teaspoons of coffee in there.  WHAT THE F*CK!!!  I called up Mr. Sexy Bear and ripped him a new one.  He was the last person to make coffee.  Why didn't he tell me that there was no more?  Why, why, why???!!!!  I'm losing my mind and shuddering just thinking about it. 
Ok not a problem, I'll walk my tired ass to the gas station.  The coffee there sucks, but it will at least hold me over until my husband gets home with more coffee.  Go outside to check the temperature.  F*ck me!  It's cold outside.  Did I mention it's winter?  I have a baby in the house.  Ok not a baby, baby.  He was probably around two, but still.  Do I make him suffer and freeze his baby ass off for my addictions?  No that's not right.  I can do this. 
I make a cup of tea.  It's not the same!  It's not even close.  I drink the tea while still steaming mad over the fact that my husband forgot to tell me there was barely any coffee.  He decides now would be a good time to call me.  He's very apologetic over this whole horrible situation he's put me in.  I tell him not to freaking call me until he is on his way home with coffee in hand, and even then I won't be speaking to him.  Just let me know he's got the stuff. 
Now I'm pacing the house.  I need coffee.  I will settle for a teeny tiny little cup.  Just need to a few gulps of the nectar of the gods.  Just two or three gulps.  That's all I'm asking for.  Enough to get me through the next few hours. 
Go back outside to check the temperature.  F*ck!!!  It's still winter, and I still have a baby here.  Everyone I know that loves me enough to bring me coffee is either working or dead.  F*ckers!
Ok Panda baby.  We can do this!  That's me talking to myself.  Another cup of tea.  Tea still sucks.  Hubs calls AGAIN to let me know how sorry he is for not telling me we are out of coffee.  "SERIOUSLY LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!  I WILL KILL YOU!  I'M SERIOUSLY MORE PISSED OFF AT YOU RIGHT NOW THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN!  IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I THINK I WOULD HIT YOU!"  That ended that conversation.  He decided it was best to leave me alone until he brought the stuff home.
Ding!  Idea brewing, like the coffee that's not!  I remembered I had a few little teaspoons of coffee.  I would boil some water and run it through a filter in a mug.  Hopefully that would be enough for me to get a semi strong (I like my coffee to put hair on my chest) cup of coffee. 
As I stood there pouring boiling water over and over into that few tablespoons of coffee that moments ago I had considered snorting, it hit me.  I'm addicted.  I'm highly addicted to coffee.  I've paced the house, and neglected my child all day, because I was out of coffee.  Here I stand with my caffeine headache, and slight shakes, holding that filter with the tiniest bit of coffee grounds like it is a newborn baby.  I'm pouring that water ever so gently so I don't lose one little drop of that coffee.  If I had spilled it I would have sucked it right off the counter top.  I drank that little cup of coffee in about one minute.  It was like a little cup of weak Heaven. 
Mr. Sexy Bear came home with new container of coffee, and I snatched that shit right out of his hands without saying a word.  He didn't say a word either.  He knew that it was best to leave me and my coffee alone.  After I finished humping it, I brewed the strongest pot of coffee I've ever had in my life, sat my addicted ass in the kitchen, and whispered sweet words only coffee understands.  I got that night off of mommy/wife duties, and I just drank coffee like I've never drank coffee before.  I think I had a coffee orgasm. 

After that experience I thought it was best that me and coffee not see so much of each other.  I could no longer drink my pot a day, because I couldn't survive without it.  Now I only have two cups a day, and I've switched over to tea in the late afternoon and evenings.  I never want to experience that again.  Even now the memory of it haunts me.  I still reach for my coffee the second I wake up, and don't function without that first cup, but now I only allow myself two cups a day.  One in the morning to do the breakfast/cleaning thing, and one in the early afternoon for a little pick me up. 
So yes I have a drinking problem.  I'm Panda, and I'm a coffeeholic.  I can say that for sure now.  I've been to dark places, and I've done many things for coffee that I'm not proud of.  I hit rock bottom and I did something about it.  Now you try and touch my booze or chocolate, and I'll rip your arm off and beat you with it. 
Hubs has been forgiven, and he has never made that mistake again.  I love you dear husband!  Now I can laugh about the time I almost killed you for a cup of coffee.  Drink coffee!  It will help you type dumb stories like this one.  Have a great day!