Thanks for all your kind thoughts and prayers regarding my mom and my aunt.
On Monday, my mom went into the hospital for the bone marrow transplant. They poked holes on the back of her pelvis bone, and used different sized needles to get the most of her bone marrow.
She stayed overnight and had a blood transfusion. Basically, once the doctors took the bone marrow, they only used the white blood cells from it for my aunt, and gave my mom her red cells back through the blood transfusion which took four hours.
Since then, my aunt has been feeling very good and has had a very positive attitude. My mom still has some swelling and definitely is still sore--she said it basically feels like she threw out of her back (ouch!)--but she is doing well.
It's one thing to read about a bone marrow transplant, but it's completely different to actually donate yours. I am so proud of her and so happy it went well.
I'm actually considering getting tested to see if I could be someone's potential match.
Would you ever donate your bone marrow or an organ?
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Hope & Faith
A phone call.
Disbelief.
Panic.
What do all of these have in common?
Well, today at work I received a phone call from my mom telling me that my aunt, who has always treated me like the daughter she never had (she has a son, who is almost my age), has "acute leukemia."
Disbelief starts to set in. And a thousand questions. And the feeling of panic because I want so badly to do something--to fix it--to feed her and comfort her. I think to myself, I can learn how to sew and make her a quilt. I can fix her some of her favorite foods (because undoubtedly the hospital food will suck). I can give her a hug...
...But I can't.
The doctor said if she doesn't undergo intense treatment, she will only have 90 days left to live. She's going to spend a month in the hospital undergoing chemo and strong therapies to fight off the disease. She can't have visitors because her immune system is too weak--one person with a cold could kill her.
The only thing I can do now is pray for her, for my cousin and for my uncle and have hope that things will be okay.
Disbelief.
Panic.
What do all of these have in common?
Well, today at work I received a phone call from my mom telling me that my aunt, who has always treated me like the daughter she never had (she has a son, who is almost my age), has "acute leukemia."
Disbelief starts to set in. And a thousand questions. And the feeling of panic because I want so badly to do something--to fix it--to feed her and comfort her. I think to myself, I can learn how to sew and make her a quilt. I can fix her some of her favorite foods (because undoubtedly the hospital food will suck). I can give her a hug...
...But I can't.
The doctor said if she doesn't undergo intense treatment, she will only have 90 days left to live. She's going to spend a month in the hospital undergoing chemo and strong therapies to fight off the disease. She can't have visitors because her immune system is too weak--one person with a cold could kill her.
The only thing I can do now is pray for her, for my cousin and for my uncle and have hope that things will be okay.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Life is hard
Over the weekend I had a lot of ups and downs.
Ups: Spending quality time with friends, my 'lil bro, and getting free fro yo.
Downs: Having my little brother who is 10 leave my entire cd collection on top of my car and me driving away and having it be GONE FOREVER AND EVER. I literally had a temper tantrum when I got home, complete with crying hysterically and saying "it's not fair" over and over and over again.
I've been really touchy lately and sensitive and overall just a ball of hormones and it wasn't until I was driving home on Monday that I realized what this all is: STRESS.
Apparently my way of dealing with stress is to just cry. and cry. and cry. oh, and yell. and then stop crying. and then apologize for the yelling. Um, yea...not exactly the most healthy way to deal with it, huh?
So now my mission is to figure out why I'm stressed and figure out what de-stresses me. Is it cooking? Is it yoga? Is it kickboxing? Is it writing? I HAVE NO IDEA. But I do know something's gotta change because it's not fair to my family or my friends.
I was playing phone tag with my uncle all day on Monday, and of course getting frustrated as to why everytime I called him he was busy and vice versa. Finally he called me back while I was in the middle of making dinner. He asked me how I was doing and I immediately started venting about how much my life sucks and how my cd collection is gone and how I might lose my job and how my cell phone sucks. I basically used the word sucks like a billion times in the span of like, 15 minutes.
Then of course without even realizing it, he made me feel better. He commiserated with me about my expensive car repairs and offered to give me the names of people he knows to help me with getting my own place (someday) and a bunch of other stuff. I'd forgotten what a great person he is.
Finally he got around to telling me why he called me in the first place. Turns out he wants me to be his second son's godmother. SERIOUSLY. I'm gonna be a godmother! I don't even know what that means exactly, but it already makes me wanna spoil my cousin, who's only like five months old.
It's funny how life works out like this--just when I wanna give up and crawl into a cave and never come out again--something awesome happens.
Ups: Spending quality time with friends, my 'lil bro, and getting free fro yo.
Downs: Having my little brother who is 10 leave my entire cd collection on top of my car and me driving away and having it be GONE FOREVER AND EVER. I literally had a temper tantrum when I got home, complete with crying hysterically and saying "it's not fair" over and over and over again.
I've been really touchy lately and sensitive and overall just a ball of hormones and it wasn't until I was driving home on Monday that I realized what this all is: STRESS.
Apparently my way of dealing with stress is to just cry. and cry. and cry. oh, and yell. and then stop crying. and then apologize for the yelling. Um, yea...not exactly the most healthy way to deal with it, huh?
So now my mission is to figure out why I'm stressed and figure out what de-stresses me. Is it cooking? Is it yoga? Is it kickboxing? Is it writing? I HAVE NO IDEA. But I do know something's gotta change because it's not fair to my family or my friends.
I was playing phone tag with my uncle all day on Monday, and of course getting frustrated as to why everytime I called him he was busy and vice versa. Finally he called me back while I was in the middle of making dinner. He asked me how I was doing and I immediately started venting about how much my life sucks and how my cd collection is gone and how I might lose my job and how my cell phone sucks. I basically used the word sucks like a billion times in the span of like, 15 minutes.
Then of course without even realizing it, he made me feel better. He commiserated with me about my expensive car repairs and offered to give me the names of people he knows to help me with getting my own place (someday) and a bunch of other stuff. I'd forgotten what a great person he is.
Finally he got around to telling me why he called me in the first place. Turns out he wants me to be his second son's godmother. SERIOUSLY. I'm gonna be a godmother! I don't even know what that means exactly, but it already makes me wanna spoil my cousin, who's only like five months old.
It's funny how life works out like this--just when I wanna give up and crawl into a cave and never come out again--something awesome happens.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Help
So, I have a favor to ask of you all.
On Monday, my mom has to undergo major surgery. Even though she won't admit it, I know she's terrified inside.
That's where you come in: just send your positive thoughts or prayers to the big man up there.
Her recovery time is supposed to be 2 weeks, during which my family all might go crazy or it might be a time that brings us all together.
Either way, on Monday my fingers will be crossed for her.
On Monday, my mom has to undergo major surgery. Even though she won't admit it, I know she's terrified inside.
That's where you come in: just send your positive thoughts or prayers to the big man up there.
Her recovery time is supposed to be 2 weeks, during which my family all might go crazy or it might be a time that brings us all together.
Either way, on Monday my fingers will be crossed for her.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The things I do for family...
Since my office for work is moving, I've been working from home this week. Which is great, unless your dad works from home and is constantly tying up the phone line, or unless your little brother is home as well, which is what the case was on Monday. Apparently he had no school due to "Easter break." Um, what? No fair.
He can only watch so much tv. I let him watch Spy Kids 3, while I worked and got alot of stuff done. After that, he begged me to put in the password (my mom locks everything around this house, including the tv) and I told him no. I thought he didn't need to watch anymore tv for the day. "Go outside, or draw or something," I said. But if course he didn't want to do that. And I couldn't do any of those things with him, because I actually had work to get done.
So naturally, a fight ensued. He ran upstairs to my parents bedroom to watch tv (which doesn't have any locks on it). I kicked him out of their room, but not without him pushing me into their dresser and me tackling him on their bed. I finally threw him into his room, where I maturely shut the door and held it so he couldn't get out. All this took place while he was throwing things at the closed door and at one point he threatened to jump out the window, to which I replied "Don't break any bones."
The above scene was in motion when my dad got home. After he lectured him, he let him watch tv. Which basically ruined all the hard work I had just done. But after work, and after he apologized to me for being a jerk, I decided we should spend some quality time together. I played basketball with him, we chased after the dog in the backyard, and played Go Fish and Crazy 8's.
Then we decided to color. We drew pictures to send my brother with the wrong school mascot colors and even signed them by people he dislikes--i.e. his ex-girlfriend. We're classy like that. And then I decided we should each draw a picture to give to our dog.
His picture:
My picture:
So, a long time ago when I was laying down with my brother to get him to sleep, I told him a story about our dog and during the story, he decided she needed to have a boyfriend. So he named her boyfriend Prancer (inspired by one of Santa's reindeers. Obviously). That's who's shown in this picture. He's woofing at Hailey (our dog) because Hailey is escaping in a hot air balloon because she has just found out that Prancer has a new girlfriend. The inside of the basket is full of doggie bones for her journey. The volcano is about to erupt, and there's a tornado (courtesy of my brother) chasing the new girlfriend.
Bon Voyage!
He can only watch so much tv. I let him watch Spy Kids 3, while I worked and got alot of stuff done. After that, he begged me to put in the password (my mom locks everything around this house, including the tv) and I told him no. I thought he didn't need to watch anymore tv for the day. "Go outside, or draw or something," I said. But if course he didn't want to do that. And I couldn't do any of those things with him, because I actually had work to get done.
So naturally, a fight ensued. He ran upstairs to my parents bedroom to watch tv (which doesn't have any locks on it). I kicked him out of their room, but not without him pushing me into their dresser and me tackling him on their bed. I finally threw him into his room, where I maturely shut the door and held it so he couldn't get out. All this took place while he was throwing things at the closed door and at one point he threatened to jump out the window, to which I replied "Don't break any bones."
The above scene was in motion when my dad got home. After he lectured him, he let him watch tv. Which basically ruined all the hard work I had just done. But after work, and after he apologized to me for being a jerk, I decided we should spend some quality time together. I played basketball with him, we chased after the dog in the backyard, and played Go Fish and Crazy 8's.
Then we decided to color. We drew pictures to send my brother with the wrong school mascot colors and even signed them by people he dislikes--i.e. his ex-girlfriend. We're classy like that. And then I decided we should each draw a picture to give to our dog.
His picture:
This is of a baseball diamond, and the gray part is a tornado coming. My brother is terrified of tornadoes. And clearly the yellow part that is labeled Hailey is an accurate depiction of our dog.
My picture:
So, a long time ago when I was laying down with my brother to get him to sleep, I told him a story about our dog and during the story, he decided she needed to have a boyfriend. So he named her boyfriend Prancer (inspired by one of Santa's reindeers. Obviously). That's who's shown in this picture. He's woofing at Hailey (our dog) because Hailey is escaping in a hot air balloon because she has just found out that Prancer has a new girlfriend. The inside of the basket is full of doggie bones for her journey. The volcano is about to erupt, and there's a tornado (courtesy of my brother) chasing the new girlfriend.
Bon Voyage!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Life is fragile
Where have I been?
I'll tell you where I've been.
At the hospital. On and off since Wednesday.
I wasn't the one taken to the ER room. My mom was. She was poked and prodded, IVed up, cried, laughed, and sorta of slept. Oh, and she got like four units of O positive blood.
The hospital is not a happy place. Although our nurse Sarah was a delight. She was positive and caring and just overall had very nice bedside manners.
But it's pretty depressing to be in the hospital. The unknown is scary. Not mention that unless you're in the baby wing, there's really not a lot of people that are healthy. In fact, I bet a lot of people are dying.
Thankfully my mom is at home now, where I've been caring for her because no one else in my family is around. There's a lot of decisions that have to be made in the coming days, but I am thankful for my life.
Life is fragile.
I'll tell you where I've been.
At the hospital. On and off since Wednesday.
I wasn't the one taken to the ER room. My mom was. She was poked and prodded, IVed up, cried, laughed, and sorta of slept. Oh, and she got like four units of O positive blood.
The hospital is not a happy place. Although our nurse Sarah was a delight. She was positive and caring and just overall had very nice bedside manners.
But it's pretty depressing to be in the hospital. The unknown is scary. Not mention that unless you're in the baby wing, there's really not a lot of people that are healthy. In fact, I bet a lot of people are dying.
Thankfully my mom is at home now, where I've been caring for her because no one else in my family is around. There's a lot of decisions that have to be made in the coming days, but I am thankful for my life.
Life is fragile.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I feel the love, do you?
Can't every weekend be three days long? I definitely made the most of my long weekend.
On Friday after work I just relaxed and hung out with my family. Then I slept in on Saturday. I love love love sleeping in. It's the best thing. After breakfast, I hung out with family and talked with friends. Then I went to the outdoor mall with my brother and got some exercise. Later that night I was invited to an anti-valentine's day party. I'm glad that I went because it was so much fun to a) get out of the house and b) to laugh and enjoy people's company. We had girl talk, a homemade dinner complete with lasagna, spinach salad and cheesecake for dessert, and we watched He's Just Not That Into You. It was definitely fun. Not to mention that a girl at the party offered to look over my cover letter. Turns out she's in communications too! So I'm excited about that potential networking opportunity!
On Sunday I slept in again and had really bizarre dreams. Then I talked with friends, hung out with family, and went to church. I even received a valentine from a college friend. I realized that while Valentine's Day might be a huge thing to some, to me, it was just a day to spend it with the people I actually like being around. I don't think I've ever had this perspective before, but I hope to keep it for many more v-days. Later that night, as a family, we watched the premiere of the Amazing Race and Undercover Boss. I had never seen Undercover Boss before but I'm not sure if I liked it enough to watch it again. This week's episode followed the CEO of Hooters. I couldn't believe he said that he'd let his girls work at Hooters someday. But I guess to each their own, right? After all that TV watching, I watched pair figure skating while I painted my nails. I really had this urge to paint them dark blue, but I didn't have any dark colors. Apparently I like pink. A lot.
I also was lucky enough to have yesterday off and I would say I definitely made the most of it. I slept till 11, grabbed Qdoba for lunch (I had a buy one, get one free coupon), and lounged around the house. I was originally supposed to have lunch with my cousin but a last minute death in the family caused us to reschedule. My 'lil brother and I played Twister in which I learned that I just can't bend the way that I used to. We took the dog for a walk, and then I made him a deal. I told him I would take him bowling if we walked there and back. I google mapped it, and it was only a mile each way. Plus, after being lazy all weekend, I really wanted to get in my steps. He obviously agreed, and we made it there alive.
Let me just tell you that we both suck at bowling. Like, I have no form whatsoever. I just try not get gutter balls. I think our first game we had a score of like 130 combined. I also thought it would be hilarious to put in secret joke names as our titles on the scoreboard when my brother wasn't looking. Yes, I am like 9. We have this insider joke that started one day when I was probably talking to the dog. But needless to say, now I always say to my brother, "Love your face!" whenever I'm leaving the house, and he thought it would be funny to say to me, "Love your butt!" Yeah, we're reallllly mature, can't you tell?
Anyways, the funniest part about bowling yesterday was our nicknames. Oh, and of course, this old guy helping us out. He saw my brother throwing the ball wrong, and was explaining to him how to do it correctly. Apparently he had gotten like 7 strikes that day. And yes, he was in a league. But at one point he looked at the screen and said, I couldn't call ya'll that! It was really funny and only mildly embarrassing. And my brother's technique (if you can call it that) improved. We only played two games, which took us an hour, but the manager did give us a bunch of buy one game, get one game free coupons. Guess we'll just have to go back.
On the way back home we laughed and chased each other and ate an apple. It was good times, and I got in a bunch of steps, like 10,000+. Yeah, it was awesome. I felt so accomplished. We ate dinner and then I had the urge to go buy blue nail polish at Ulta. I didn't really want to pay $8.50 for the OPI color I wanted, so I went with a $1 glittery polish by N.Y.C., and this dark blue insta-dry color by Sally Hansen. I'm excited to paint them dark for once. And I joked to my dad that this is my way of acting out--by not having my normal pink nails, but instead a very dark and moody color. He thought it was funny and called me goth.
All in all, it was a great weekend. How was yours?
On Friday after work I just relaxed and hung out with my family. Then I slept in on Saturday. I love love love sleeping in. It's the best thing. After breakfast, I hung out with family and talked with friends. Then I went to the outdoor mall with my brother and got some exercise. Later that night I was invited to an anti-valentine's day party. I'm glad that I went because it was so much fun to a) get out of the house and b) to laugh and enjoy people's company. We had girl talk, a homemade dinner complete with lasagna, spinach salad and cheesecake for dessert, and we watched He's Just Not That Into You. It was definitely fun. Not to mention that a girl at the party offered to look over my cover letter. Turns out she's in communications too! So I'm excited about that potential networking opportunity!
On Sunday I slept in again and had really bizarre dreams. Then I talked with friends, hung out with family, and went to church. I even received a valentine from a college friend. I realized that while Valentine's Day might be a huge thing to some, to me, it was just a day to spend it with the people I actually like being around. I don't think I've ever had this perspective before, but I hope to keep it for many more v-days. Later that night, as a family, we watched the premiere of the Amazing Race and Undercover Boss. I had never seen Undercover Boss before but I'm not sure if I liked it enough to watch it again. This week's episode followed the CEO of Hooters. I couldn't believe he said that he'd let his girls work at Hooters someday. But I guess to each their own, right? After all that TV watching, I watched pair figure skating while I painted my nails. I really had this urge to paint them dark blue, but I didn't have any dark colors. Apparently I like pink. A lot.
I also was lucky enough to have yesterday off and I would say I definitely made the most of it. I slept till 11, grabbed Qdoba for lunch (I had a buy one, get one free coupon), and lounged around the house. I was originally supposed to have lunch with my cousin but a last minute death in the family caused us to reschedule. My 'lil brother and I played Twister in which I learned that I just can't bend the way that I used to. We took the dog for a walk, and then I made him a deal. I told him I would take him bowling if we walked there and back. I google mapped it, and it was only a mile each way. Plus, after being lazy all weekend, I really wanted to get in my steps. He obviously agreed, and we made it there alive.
Let me just tell you that we both suck at bowling. Like, I have no form whatsoever. I just try not get gutter balls. I think our first game we had a score of like 130 combined. I also thought it would be hilarious to put in secret joke names as our titles on the scoreboard when my brother wasn't looking. Yes, I am like 9. We have this insider joke that started one day when I was probably talking to the dog. But needless to say, now I always say to my brother, "Love your face!" whenever I'm leaving the house, and he thought it would be funny to say to me, "Love your butt!" Yeah, we're reallllly mature, can't you tell?
Anyways, the funniest part about bowling yesterday was our nicknames. Oh, and of course, this old guy helping us out. He saw my brother throwing the ball wrong, and was explaining to him how to do it correctly. Apparently he had gotten like 7 strikes that day. And yes, he was in a league. But at one point he looked at the screen and said, I couldn't call ya'll that! It was really funny and only mildly embarrassing. And my brother's technique (if you can call it that) improved. We only played two games, which took us an hour, but the manager did give us a bunch of buy one game, get one game free coupons. Guess we'll just have to go back.
On the way back home we laughed and chased each other and ate an apple. It was good times, and I got in a bunch of steps, like 10,000+. Yeah, it was awesome. I felt so accomplished. We ate dinner and then I had the urge to go buy blue nail polish at Ulta. I didn't really want to pay $8.50 for the OPI color I wanted, so I went with a $1 glittery polish by N.Y.C., and this dark blue insta-dry color by Sally Hansen. I'm excited to paint them dark for once. And I joked to my dad that this is my way of acting out--by not having my normal pink nails, but instead a very dark and moody color. He thought it was funny and called me goth.
All in all, it was a great weekend. How was yours?
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
I love being a kid
So, last night was very entertaining last night at home. I helped make dinner, put away the dishes, took out the trash, and set the table. Yes, I know, I'm so helpful around the house. We ate grilled salmon with oven roasted potatoes. It was super yummy.
After dinner, I cleaned up the table, and put the leftovers away. My little brother was definitely hyper, so I promised him that if he would leave me alone for 30 minutes, I would have "tea" with him. Of course he asked me what "tea" was, but I told him he couldn't find out unless he left me alone. (Which actually worked.)
Half an hour later, as if on cue, he met me in the kitchen and said he was ready for "tea." And it was a very fun time. When I was little, my other brother and I would take out these small tea cups and fill them with water and sit at the table slurping our "tea" while talking in a British accent. We had a lot of fun doing that.
So my little brother and I had "tea" last night, and it was a hit. He loved it. A couple of times we laughed so hard that I couldn't swallow my "tea" and neither could he. It was definitely fun. After "tea," we played a long game of Uno. While I was putting away the cards, my brother decided it would be funny to tackle me and see how many times he could jump on my back. At first I was not amused at all, but eventually I gave into him, and fought him off, laughing hard and screaming for my mom to make him stop. I felt like a kid again. And let me just tell you, I got a major ab workout fighting him off. I mean, he's only 9, but he's already almost as tall as me. Finally, he stopped and I re-did my ponytail.
In the mean time, our dog had come upstairs to see if there were any food scraps leftover from dinner. I thought I did a pretty good job of cleaning up, but apparently I didn't, because you'll never believe what happened. First, she spied a scrap of salmon leftover on the middle of the table, so while my brother and I watched, she placed both her paws on the table, leaned her face to the side, and licked what she could of it before we told her to stop. But she didn't eat all of it yet. So, my brother had the brilliant idea of pointing to the bit of salmon and telling her to eat it. And this is what she did:
I was laughing so hard when she literally jumped onto the table. I mean, as you can see, she's a big girl, I mean, she's not a limber cat or anything. She's a huge lug of a dog. And she just jumped up there like it was nothing. I ran upstairs to get my camera so I could document this. I know, my life is so cool. Afterward, she wasn't sure about getting down, so I carried her to the floor, and learned first hand how freakin' heavy she really is. She's gotta be at least 50 pounds. But seriously, who does this? I tried to show my mom the pictures, but she was upset that she climbed onto the table. She didn't really think it was funny. Sheesh... parents are so serious.
What did you do last night?
After dinner, I cleaned up the table, and put the leftovers away. My little brother was definitely hyper, so I promised him that if he would leave me alone for 30 minutes, I would have "tea" with him. Of course he asked me what "tea" was, but I told him he couldn't find out unless he left me alone. (Which actually worked.)
Half an hour later, as if on cue, he met me in the kitchen and said he was ready for "tea." And it was a very fun time. When I was little, my other brother and I would take out these small tea cups and fill them with water and sit at the table slurping our "tea" while talking in a British accent. We had a lot of fun doing that.
So my little brother and I had "tea" last night, and it was a hit. He loved it. A couple of times we laughed so hard that I couldn't swallow my "tea" and neither could he. It was definitely fun. After "tea," we played a long game of Uno. While I was putting away the cards, my brother decided it would be funny to tackle me and see how many times he could jump on my back. At first I was not amused at all, but eventually I gave into him, and fought him off, laughing hard and screaming for my mom to make him stop. I felt like a kid again. And let me just tell you, I got a major ab workout fighting him off. I mean, he's only 9, but he's already almost as tall as me. Finally, he stopped and I re-did my ponytail.
In the mean time, our dog had come upstairs to see if there were any food scraps leftover from dinner. I thought I did a pretty good job of cleaning up, but apparently I didn't, because you'll never believe what happened. First, she spied a scrap of salmon leftover on the middle of the table, so while my brother and I watched, she placed both her paws on the table, leaned her face to the side, and licked what she could of it before we told her to stop. But she didn't eat all of it yet. So, my brother had the brilliant idea of pointing to the bit of salmon and telling her to eat it. And this is what she did:
Of course she jumped onto the table and ate the remaining salmon.
Then checked all around the table to make sure she got it all.
I was laughing so hard when she literally jumped onto the table. I mean, as you can see, she's a big girl, I mean, she's not a limber cat or anything. She's a huge lug of a dog. And she just jumped up there like it was nothing. I ran upstairs to get my camera so I could document this. I know, my life is so cool. Afterward, she wasn't sure about getting down, so I carried her to the floor, and learned first hand how freakin' heavy she really is. She's gotta be at least 50 pounds. But seriously, who does this? I tried to show my mom the pictures, but she was upset that she climbed onto the table. She didn't really think it was funny. Sheesh... parents are so serious.
What did you do last night?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Weekend Recap
For once in my life, I actually got MLK day off. Needless to say I was excited about having a long weekend.
Friday- I didn't have any plans. I figured I'd just be 90 and go home and read a book or something. But I ended up having a nice evening out with my mom. We had dinner at Rock Bottom Brewery, followed by the movie Leap Year. The movie was predictable but cute. Not something that was amazing, but still nice to see.
Saturday- I slept in till like almost 10. It was beyond amazing. I <3 sleep. Seriously. I stayed in bed for a few more hours and finished reading The Tiara Club by Beverly Brandt. It was cute. Finally at around noon, I got out of bed and made myself some lunch and watched Project Runway. I had no idea a new season has already started! I had the house to myself for a bit, which was awesome. After Project Runway, I watched Kendra on the E! channel. I had never seen her show before, but it was the episode where she has her baby. I don't know if I'd watch it again, but it was at least something to watch. Shortly afterward, my dad stole the tv from me via Slingbox, so I had no choice but to get off the couch and actually do something. I took the dog for a walk and then came home and played Wii.
Sunday- I slept in, went to Costco, attended church, hung out the family, and thought about going out but never did because my friends had gone out the night before. Then I started to feel sick with a runny nose. Not fun at all.
Monday- The dog woke me up at like 6:45am. It was torture, but I got up and then applied for a couple of jobs. Yay for productivity. Then went out to breakfast with my family, where my mom lectured me on how I need to keep my room clean and how she wants me to help her clean the closets out. To which I said, no and no. I mean, who really wants to spend their day CLEANING? Not me. So, I conveniently took the dog to the muddy dog park for awhile, then headed downtown to have lunch with M at Pete's Greek Kitchen.
After lunch I drove over to Waterworks to get my car washed. I was so out of it, that I accidentally tossed my keys in the trunk. It was only mildly embarrassing, but it was worth it. My car is actually clean now (minus the trunk where I tossed everything). I didn't want to home home and help my mom clean closets, so I ended up going over to my friend's house for awhile. We took her dog for a walk and caught up. Around 5ish, I decided I should face my mom, so I drove home. I had forgotten that my mom was watching my lil cousin Ben, so that was nice. His new word is "nope." He says it in response to pretty much everything. After a few hours, I left and went over to Kristen's where I had pasta for dinner and caught up with her.
We basically agreed that we aren't going to live together. We feel like two weeks isn't alot of time to find a place and move. Not to mention that her apartment complex offered her a 1 bedroom at a lower price, which means it'll be easier for her to move. I feel okay with this decision because I know things happen for a reason. I still haven't heard back from the job interview I had last week. The interview itself went well, but it apparently only pays $10-$12/hr, which is a joke to me. Why work there when I make more at my current job? So I pretty much have decided I will turn it down. I'm supposed to hear from them this week.
As for me, I'm feeling sick right now. My nose is similar to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and I'm sick of blowing. I took some Zyrtec last night and am going to keep taking it to see if that helps. I also forgot to use my flex spending account to buy all this stuff, which sucks but I'm going to try and be more aware of it next time.
Besides feeling sick, I am so tired today. It was like death going back to work. Not to mention that we're on deadline so things are like not at all calm. I seriously bought myself a White Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks an hour ago so I could stay awake, because I'm that tired. I can't wait to go home, skip dinner, turn off the ringer on my phone, and pass out.
How was your weekend?
Friday- I didn't have any plans. I figured I'd just be 90 and go home and read a book or something. But I ended up having a nice evening out with my mom. We had dinner at Rock Bottom Brewery, followed by the movie Leap Year. The movie was predictable but cute. Not something that was amazing, but still nice to see.
Saturday- I slept in till like almost 10. It was beyond amazing. I <3 sleep. Seriously. I stayed in bed for a few more hours and finished reading The Tiara Club by Beverly Brandt. It was cute. Finally at around noon, I got out of bed and made myself some lunch and watched Project Runway. I had no idea a new season has already started! I had the house to myself for a bit, which was awesome. After Project Runway, I watched Kendra on the E! channel. I had never seen her show before, but it was the episode where she has her baby. I don't know if I'd watch it again, but it was at least something to watch. Shortly afterward, my dad stole the tv from me via Slingbox, so I had no choice but to get off the couch and actually do something. I took the dog for a walk and then came home and played Wii.
Sunday- I slept in, went to Costco, attended church, hung out the family, and thought about going out but never did because my friends had gone out the night before. Then I started to feel sick with a runny nose. Not fun at all.
Monday- The dog woke me up at like 6:45am. It was torture, but I got up and then applied for a couple of jobs. Yay for productivity. Then went out to breakfast with my family, where my mom lectured me on how I need to keep my room clean and how she wants me to help her clean the closets out. To which I said, no and no. I mean, who really wants to spend their day CLEANING? Not me. So, I conveniently took the dog to the muddy dog park for awhile, then headed downtown to have lunch with M at Pete's Greek Kitchen.
After lunch I drove over to Waterworks to get my car washed. I was so out of it, that I accidentally tossed my keys in the trunk. It was only mildly embarrassing, but it was worth it. My car is actually clean now (minus the trunk where I tossed everything). I didn't want to home home and help my mom clean closets, so I ended up going over to my friend's house for awhile. We took her dog for a walk and caught up. Around 5ish, I decided I should face my mom, so I drove home. I had forgotten that my mom was watching my lil cousin Ben, so that was nice. His new word is "nope." He says it in response to pretty much everything. After a few hours, I left and went over to Kristen's where I had pasta for dinner and caught up with her.
We basically agreed that we aren't going to live together. We feel like two weeks isn't alot of time to find a place and move. Not to mention that her apartment complex offered her a 1 bedroom at a lower price, which means it'll be easier for her to move. I feel okay with this decision because I know things happen for a reason. I still haven't heard back from the job interview I had last week. The interview itself went well, but it apparently only pays $10-$12/hr, which is a joke to me. Why work there when I make more at my current job? So I pretty much have decided I will turn it down. I'm supposed to hear from them this week.
As for me, I'm feeling sick right now. My nose is similar to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and I'm sick of blowing. I took some Zyrtec last night and am going to keep taking it to see if that helps. I also forgot to use my flex spending account to buy all this stuff, which sucks but I'm going to try and be more aware of it next time.
Besides feeling sick, I am so tired today. It was like death going back to work. Not to mention that we're on deadline so things are like not at all calm. I seriously bought myself a White Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks an hour ago so I could stay awake, because I'm that tired. I can't wait to go home, skip dinner, turn off the ringer on my phone, and pass out.
How was your weekend?
Friday, January 8, 2010
TGIF
For some reason, this week seemed reallllly long for me. Maybe because I had Monday off. Or maybe because we had snow on Wednesday night. Or because I had spiritual direction and then an alumni event last night. Why, I'm still not sure. But I really am lacking in the quality of sleep department and would like to get that fixed ASAP.
Weekend plans include catching up with M, spending time with my family, seeing an old friend from high school, running my first 5k tomorrow, and going to a white elephant party. Which reminds me of the white elephant gift exchange I went to last weekend with some of the people I met on the young adult retreat I went on. My original present that I picked, turned out to be this:
I mean who wouldn't want this book? Clearly I want a good husband--STAT. But sadly, another girl at the party stole it from me so she could get lucky...you know, with a good husband. So, I was faced with opening the last present on the table or stealing someone's. I chose the latter and came away with bamboo chopsticks, a set of Korean tea cups, and this little gem:
Weekend plans include catching up with M, spending time with my family, seeing an old friend from high school, running my first 5k tomorrow, and going to a white elephant party. Which reminds me of the white elephant gift exchange I went to last weekend with some of the people I met on the young adult retreat I went on. My original present that I picked, turned out to be this:
I'm not certain what I'm bringing to tomorrow's white elephant party, but I bet I will come away with something interesting. It seems like all the things I think are ugly or useless ends up being like the best thing ever. Like for the party last weekend, I gave away a stuffed snowman, a pair of strawberry/hello kitty earrings, and a coin purse sock. But the girl who got it, LOVED it. So I guess it really is true what they say: someone's junk is another man's treasure.
Have a good weekend kids!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Vacation is ovah. Like 2009.
What I've been up to:
What have you been up to?
- Hanging out with family
- Beating Lego Batman for Wii
- Sleeping in till 11am everyday
- Taking Hailey to the dog park
- Totally enjoying being single aka I'm anti-guy right now
- Motivated to actually look for a new job
- Planning my trip to NYC this summer
- Training for my first 5k this Saturday
What have you been up to?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Growing up
Somedays I feel like I'm an adult full of wisdom. Other days I feel like I'm still in high school and a kid afraid of the big bad real world. Sometimes I see traits of my mom in me, like when I plan everything to a T, or research things before I buy them. Other days I know I have parts of my dad within me, like when I ask a friend why they are upset and give them a hug, or always try to be on time, if not early. And somedays I wish I didn't have parts of them within me. That I didn't inherit their faults.
After struggling with "fixing" my brakes all day on Saturday, I was frustrated, cold, and tired. I came home to find two black trash bags sitting on top of my bed. I went over and opened them up, and saw momentos from my childhood and early years. There was my old pink crocheted blanket, my ballerina trophy from my recital, there were pictures of my best friend and I sitting on the black top at recess, there were my prom dresses from junior and senior year, and my old letter jacket. And they were thrown into trash bags. I wasn't pleased, because they used to be in a plastic tub. I packed them in one before I moved out of my house and into an apartment and put it in the closet in the basement. It's been sitting there for over two years now, undisturbed. Until this weekend, that is.
Sunday morning I asked my mom why she threw all of my stuff into trash bags. "Oh, well I needed that bin for my stuff," she said. "Well, why can't I just keep this stuff downstairs in the closet? Why does it have to be in my room?" I asked. "No, no, no, I don't want any of your stuff in my house. Get it out." I was hurt by this. I mean, seriously, what parent doesn't want their kid's old stuff? I just don't get it. If I ever am a parent, I won't make my kid take all of their stuff with them. I mean, seriously, it was ONE BIN. It's not even like I was taking up the entire closet. She told my other brother who's 20, the same thing, that he needed to take his stuff with him too. It makes no sense to me. Yes, they are my things. Things she didn't need to go through btw. But is it really that much to ask that I can keep ONE BIN full of stuff at the house? It's not like my house is filled to the gills with junk. It's not at all. There's plenty of room. Maybe on a deeper level I don't want to accept that the house I grew up in is no longer my home. Maybe I don't want to grow up and part with my childhood self. But I've always known I can't be there forever and I look forward to the day when I move out and can be on my own again. Hell, I can't wait till I have my own place to call home, even if that means I'll be in debt forever.
It can just be really frustrating when you live with your parents and I think my mom is being insensitive but she got her way. My stuff is still sitting in my room, along with my luggage that she won't let me keep downstairs, a pile of books that she won't let me put on the bookshelf, and a couple of boxes. My room is getting too crowded with all of my stuff, so I think sometime soon I'm going to get access to my P.O.D. and put it all in there. That way I can at least see my floor again.
After struggling with "fixing" my brakes all day on Saturday, I was frustrated, cold, and tired. I came home to find two black trash bags sitting on top of my bed. I went over and opened them up, and saw momentos from my childhood and early years. There was my old pink crocheted blanket, my ballerina trophy from my recital, there were pictures of my best friend and I sitting on the black top at recess, there were my prom dresses from junior and senior year, and my old letter jacket. And they were thrown into trash bags. I wasn't pleased, because they used to be in a plastic tub. I packed them in one before I moved out of my house and into an apartment and put it in the closet in the basement. It's been sitting there for over two years now, undisturbed. Until this weekend, that is.
Sunday morning I asked my mom why she threw all of my stuff into trash bags. "Oh, well I needed that bin for my stuff," she said. "Well, why can't I just keep this stuff downstairs in the closet? Why does it have to be in my room?" I asked. "No, no, no, I don't want any of your stuff in my house. Get it out." I was hurt by this. I mean, seriously, what parent doesn't want their kid's old stuff? I just don't get it. If I ever am a parent, I won't make my kid take all of their stuff with them. I mean, seriously, it was ONE BIN. It's not even like I was taking up the entire closet. She told my other brother who's 20, the same thing, that he needed to take his stuff with him too. It makes no sense to me. Yes, they are my things. Things she didn't need to go through btw. But is it really that much to ask that I can keep ONE BIN full of stuff at the house? It's not like my house is filled to the gills with junk. It's not at all. There's plenty of room. Maybe on a deeper level I don't want to accept that the house I grew up in is no longer my home. Maybe I don't want to grow up and part with my childhood self. But I've always known I can't be there forever and I look forward to the day when I move out and can be on my own again. Hell, I can't wait till I have my own place to call home, even if that means I'll be in debt forever.
It can just be really frustrating when you live with your parents and I think my mom is being insensitive but she got her way. My stuff is still sitting in my room, along with my luggage that she won't let me keep downstairs, a pile of books that she won't let me put on the bookshelf, and a couple of boxes. My room is getting too crowded with all of my stuff, so I think sometime soon I'm going to get access to my P.O.D. and put it all in there. That way I can at least see my floor again.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Dear Diary
Dear Diary,
Can you tell me why I thought I could survive living at home? Because I can't. I shed a few tears on the bus this morning. I had dreams last night about my mom busting into my room and turning on the light and telling me I had to take my 9-year-old brother to school, and me frantically rousing him from the bed and making him get ready and yelling at him because he was going to make me late for work. I woke up today at 6 a.m., only to figure out that it was a dream. Not a good one. Then I got to the bus stop, was seriously oh, 5 steps away from boarding, and it freaking left. LEFT. and a lady saw me, and she just stared at me, like you're S-O-L. but, the good thing is that i made it to work before my boss, I still have a job, and I'm alive. I just am slowly losing my sanity and beginning to really hate kids.
Can you tell me why I thought I could survive living at home? Because I can't. I shed a few tears on the bus this morning. I had dreams last night about my mom busting into my room and turning on the light and telling me I had to take my 9-year-old brother to school, and me frantically rousing him from the bed and making him get ready and yelling at him because he was going to make me late for work. I woke up today at 6 a.m., only to figure out that it was a dream. Not a good one. Then I got to the bus stop, was seriously oh, 5 steps away from boarding, and it freaking left. LEFT. and a lady saw me, and she just stared at me, like you're S-O-L. but, the good thing is that i made it to work before my boss, I still have a job, and I'm alive. I just am slowly losing my sanity and beginning to really hate kids.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I hate kids
Okay, I lied. I don't hate kids. Hate is a very strong word. And I don't use it often. But I'm frustrated, angry, and just feel like screaming RAWWWWR. Why am I so upset, you ask? Because of the past 24 hours. Allow me to recap.
I do love love love love LOVE my brother, but seriously, I don't get how parents do this. I always thought I'd be a great mom, because I'm patient (or so I thought) and loving and nurturing and all those goody too shoes qualities. But the past 24 hours have made me question things a lot. Especially when dealing with an 8-year-old. I mean, if he was a baby, it'd be a lil easier because he wouldn't have the sass factor going on, and if he disobeyed I could just pick him up, let him kick around and flail his arms and legs, and then shove a pacifier in his mouth or give him a bottle or just leave him in the crib to scream until he fell asleep. But no, when you have an 8-year-old brat acting like a teenager with his "I don't care, you can't make me" attitude, who is also only a head shorter than you and weighs too much for you to pick him up--well, then you gotta do what you gotta do. They test you. And it sucks.
It all started last night when I met my mom and picked him up. He was in a good mood then. He knew he still had homework to do and agreed to shower in the morning, admitting that he smelled. So on the way home, when I recap what the plans were, i.e. him doing hw while I shower, he decides that he's not doing his homework that night. I absolutely refuse to allow him to do that, because I needed to shower, and that was the perfect plan. So we argue all the way home about how he's not going to do his homework, and how I said he is going to do his homework, whether he likes it or not. I pull into my apt's parking garage, and M is right behind me in her car. I am so frustrated at this point, and have a huge bag of groceries in my hand, along with all of my brother's stuff--backpack, towel, swim trunks, school clothes--and M offers to bring stuff in and so I hand her the groceries. Meanwhile, I tell my brother that he has to get out of the car. He refuses, saying he will just sleep in my car. I warn him that if he doesn't come out of the car, he will not be able to get into my apt (because you need a key to get through the first set of doors) and he refuses. I slam the door, and walk into my apt. M asks me if I'm gonna go get him. I say no, because he's chosen to stay in the car. I shower, and do my own thing.
Right when I'm walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he knocks on the door. I let him in and ask him if he's ready to do his homework now. He says yes. Of course at this point, it's already 30 min past his usual bed time. I set the timer, and he does his homework while I fume in my room. Shortly afterwards, he goes to bed and falls asleep nearly an hour past his regular bedtime.
Fast forward to this morning....I set an alarm for him for 6:45am, because he needed to shower. The alarm goes off, and he doesn't move a muscle. I turn on the lights, and play loud music. He rolls over and ignores me. I remind him that he needs to shower. He refuses. "I don't want to. I don't have to. No." Ughhhhh. At this point I'm frustrated, so I call my mom, who verbally threatens him over the phone, saying she'll take his spring break trip to Arizona away, and that she'll tell the teacher he's smelly. "I don't care," he says. WHAT A BRAT! Eventually my mom says he can just take a washcloth and clean himself that way. I say no, because he said he was going to shower, so goddamit he will shower. Seriously.
He still won't budge though. I try to literally pull him off the bed by his legs but he just held onto my mattress with his arms. I try tickling, jumping alongside him--pretty much anything to get him to move. Still nothing. Eventually I concede and tell him that he won't have to brush his teeth (because he didn't want to) if he gets in the bathroom and showers. To which he says he is not going to shower but will wash with a washcloth. In my fit of frustration, when I've finally got him in the bathroom, I take all my momentum and push him into the shower, fully clothed (well everything on but socks and a shirt). And then I...turned on the shower, getting him soaking wet. But he doesn't care! He squats down and says he won't clean himself. I say, fine, whatever. And I start curling my hair. Finally, he gets some sense and decides he will shower, but that's only after I've forced him to take off his now sopping wet shorts and boxers, and finally put some soap on a loofah. Then I let him listen to my ipod while I get ready for work.
After he's done showering, I hand him a towel and tell him to dry off. He dries off and then I hand him his clothes, to which he says "did mom pack me another set of underwear?" "I don't know," I say. Turns out she didn't. "You were the one that decided to keep your clothes on when I put you in the shower, you could've taken them off. It was your decision, not mine. Put your shirt on and I'll feed you breakfast." I know, I probably sound like the Wicked Witch of the West right now, but you've got to understand my frustration. I put his underwear in the dryer. Only our dryer hasn't been functioning up to par lately so it takes forever to get them to dry. In the meantime, I fed him a granola bar and yogurt, and read part of his Pirates of the Carribean book.
8:00am. He has to get to school in 15 minutes. So I take the damp boxers out, and literally take my hairdryer to them, hoping that will help. It kinda does. I tell him to put them on, we get fully dressed, and run into the car.
On the way to school, I notice that my car transponder for the toll ways is missing a piece. "Did you break this?" I ask. "No, I just can't find the part." "What else did you mess with?" "Nothing." Right. Well, he opened up my cheap-o air freshner so now my car reeks of winterfresh mint, and I can't find the damn thing to throw it away. At this point, I seriously just want to cry, because I'm frustrated, and my car transponder might be broken, and that will cost money to replace, and he's going to be late to school. And we all know I hate being late. I don't cry, get him to school 1 minute late, and find the missing part to my transponder. But I also notice he's taken the dried rose bouquet from Beth's wedding last summer and stepped all over it, leaving tons of mini yellow dried rose petals all over my backseat. Just great. Welcome to my life.
Later on today my mom told everyone in the office about what I did. And I'm sure this is comical, but for me it's just so frustrating. I literally just wanted to scream this morning and cry, and throw a temper tantrum complete with me ending up on the floor sobbing. But I didn't. I did make it to mass for Ash Wednesday, and I did vent to my various coworkers, one of which said that he's learned to just not take it personally anymore, and assured me that I will be a good parent someday. I don't know, but maybe that's where I failed. Maybe I should have just let him go to school stinky, but I care. I CARE. I love him. *sigh*
I do love love love love LOVE my brother, but seriously, I don't get how parents do this. I always thought I'd be a great mom, because I'm patient (or so I thought) and loving and nurturing and all those goody too shoes qualities. But the past 24 hours have made me question things a lot. Especially when dealing with an 8-year-old. I mean, if he was a baby, it'd be a lil easier because he wouldn't have the sass factor going on, and if he disobeyed I could just pick him up, let him kick around and flail his arms and legs, and then shove a pacifier in his mouth or give him a bottle or just leave him in the crib to scream until he fell asleep. But no, when you have an 8-year-old brat acting like a teenager with his "I don't care, you can't make me" attitude, who is also only a head shorter than you and weighs too much for you to pick him up--well, then you gotta do what you gotta do. They test you. And it sucks.
It all started last night when I met my mom and picked him up. He was in a good mood then. He knew he still had homework to do and agreed to shower in the morning, admitting that he smelled. So on the way home, when I recap what the plans were, i.e. him doing hw while I shower, he decides that he's not doing his homework that night. I absolutely refuse to allow him to do that, because I needed to shower, and that was the perfect plan. So we argue all the way home about how he's not going to do his homework, and how I said he is going to do his homework, whether he likes it or not. I pull into my apt's parking garage, and M is right behind me in her car. I am so frustrated at this point, and have a huge bag of groceries in my hand, along with all of my brother's stuff--backpack, towel, swim trunks, school clothes--and M offers to bring stuff in and so I hand her the groceries. Meanwhile, I tell my brother that he has to get out of the car. He refuses, saying he will just sleep in my car. I warn him that if he doesn't come out of the car, he will not be able to get into my apt (because you need a key to get through the first set of doors) and he refuses. I slam the door, and walk into my apt. M asks me if I'm gonna go get him. I say no, because he's chosen to stay in the car. I shower, and do my own thing.
Right when I'm walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he knocks on the door. I let him in and ask him if he's ready to do his homework now. He says yes. Of course at this point, it's already 30 min past his usual bed time. I set the timer, and he does his homework while I fume in my room. Shortly afterwards, he goes to bed and falls asleep nearly an hour past his regular bedtime.
Fast forward to this morning....I set an alarm for him for 6:45am, because he needed to shower. The alarm goes off, and he doesn't move a muscle. I turn on the lights, and play loud music. He rolls over and ignores me. I remind him that he needs to shower. He refuses. "I don't want to. I don't have to. No." Ughhhhh. At this point I'm frustrated, so I call my mom, who verbally threatens him over the phone, saying she'll take his spring break trip to Arizona away, and that she'll tell the teacher he's smelly. "I don't care," he says. WHAT A BRAT! Eventually my mom says he can just take a washcloth and clean himself that way. I say no, because he said he was going to shower, so goddamit he will shower. Seriously.
He still won't budge though. I try to literally pull him off the bed by his legs but he just held onto my mattress with his arms. I try tickling, jumping alongside him--pretty much anything to get him to move. Still nothing. Eventually I concede and tell him that he won't have to brush his teeth (because he didn't want to) if he gets in the bathroom and showers. To which he says he is not going to shower but will wash with a washcloth. In my fit of frustration, when I've finally got him in the bathroom, I take all my momentum and push him into the shower, fully clothed (well everything on but socks and a shirt). And then I...turned on the shower, getting him soaking wet. But he doesn't care! He squats down and says he won't clean himself. I say, fine, whatever. And I start curling my hair. Finally, he gets some sense and decides he will shower, but that's only after I've forced him to take off his now sopping wet shorts and boxers, and finally put some soap on a loofah. Then I let him listen to my ipod while I get ready for work.
After he's done showering, I hand him a towel and tell him to dry off. He dries off and then I hand him his clothes, to which he says "did mom pack me another set of underwear?" "I don't know," I say. Turns out she didn't. "You were the one that decided to keep your clothes on when I put you in the shower, you could've taken them off. It was your decision, not mine. Put your shirt on and I'll feed you breakfast." I know, I probably sound like the Wicked Witch of the West right now, but you've got to understand my frustration. I put his underwear in the dryer. Only our dryer hasn't been functioning up to par lately so it takes forever to get them to dry. In the meantime, I fed him a granola bar and yogurt, and read part of his Pirates of the Carribean book.
8:00am. He has to get to school in 15 minutes. So I take the damp boxers out, and literally take my hairdryer to them, hoping that will help. It kinda does. I tell him to put them on, we get fully dressed, and run into the car.
On the way to school, I notice that my car transponder for the toll ways is missing a piece. "Did you break this?" I ask. "No, I just can't find the part." "What else did you mess with?" "Nothing." Right. Well, he opened up my cheap-o air freshner so now my car reeks of winterfresh mint, and I can't find the damn thing to throw it away. At this point, I seriously just want to cry, because I'm frustrated, and my car transponder might be broken, and that will cost money to replace, and he's going to be late to school. And we all know I hate being late. I don't cry, get him to school 1 minute late, and find the missing part to my transponder. But I also notice he's taken the dried rose bouquet from Beth's wedding last summer and stepped all over it, leaving tons of mini yellow dried rose petals all over my backseat. Just great. Welcome to my life.
Later on today my mom told everyone in the office about what I did. And I'm sure this is comical, but for me it's just so frustrating. I literally just wanted to scream this morning and cry, and throw a temper tantrum complete with me ending up on the floor sobbing. But I didn't. I did make it to mass for Ash Wednesday, and I did vent to my various coworkers, one of which said that he's learned to just not take it personally anymore, and assured me that I will be a good parent someday. I don't know, but maybe that's where I failed. Maybe I should have just let him go to school stinky, but I care. I CARE. I love him. *sigh*
Monday, October 13, 2008
Mi Familia
This is a picture from Ben's birthday party on October 5. He just turned one! Seriously, I remember when he was born--time really goes by too fast, but he's so adorable. Even though I'm technically his cousin, I'm referred to as an aunt; the same goes for my cousin Sean, he's his "uncle." He's just too adorable. His first word was mama, but he says dada now. He doesn't quite walk yet, but he stands up all the time.
His birthday party reminded me of how grateful I am for my family, both extended and immediate. I have to admit that while I was away in college, I missed them, but that was about it. I used to complain about my mom calling me early in the morning and waking me up, or complain when I was home because I wanted to be out with friends. I didn't want to be home. I don't think I quite understood how great it is to have family.
Maybe it's growing up and being in the real world and out on my own that has made me appreciate them more. Even little stuff that they do is great. For example, when I moved into my first apartment in April of '07, I had my uncle, aunt, and family help me move in. My aunt cleaned my dishes again and set up my kitchen. My uncle bought me a new mirror for my dresser and helped my Dad move in all of the furniture--furniture which my mom gave me. Very nice coffee tables, old recliners from my grandparents, and extra pots and pans. My other aunt found me a dining set in mint condition. The lady was going to donate it to goodwill, and wouldn't accept any money for it. And my aunt even drove it up to my place and everything. Whenever I'd go home, or if my mom went to Costco, she'd always offer to give me groceries. And my uncle taught me how to change my brakes on my car and how to check my oil. Even now it's great to be invited to his house for parties or just to hang out and drink a beer or some wine.
It's just the little things that matter. Now I like coming home and eating a home cooked meal with the fam and seeing our dog Hailey. I like hanging out with my lil brother who is in third grade and watching gossip girl with my mom. Of course I still get annoyed sometimes, especially when they assume I have no plans and expect me to housesit...but the bottom line is that I appreciate them. I think my life would be a lot harder without them. Family is something that lasts forever.
Friday, June 6, 2008
car situation
oh one more thing, I find my parents and brother to be overbearing sometimes. Life can be hard to deal with. Take for example, the recent car dilemma. I get a call from my dad on wednesday saying "court, you have to help me out. I can't run Matt and Andrew around and still keep a job. Call me." Of course I didn't call him back, cuz i was at work and super busy. Then at like 5, Matt calls. I ignore the call. then my mom calls. it's like WTF people, leave me the F alone, ok? See, the biggest problem I have with my parents and Matt is the lack of respect. Take this for example, I said, no you can't use my car on Thursday, I need it, I have an appt downtown at 6, and need it for my radio show. Matt responds with "You'll have a car Court, I promise. But let's switch cars." UMMMM....what? How about acknowledging MY PRIORTIES, how about saying, oh..ok..let's switch on Friday. But did he say that?? NO, because all he cares about is himself. And the whole reason why he can't drive my parents cars is because of his horrible driving record. It's so bad, the car insurance company threatened to drop my parents because of it. Hence, they got rid of him, and kept their insurance. But that leaves me, he can drive my car apparently. Or any car insured by that matter. But what sucks about the situation is no matter what I do, I look like the bad guy. If i say sure, here's my car, then it's only a temporary solution because I'll have to worry about my car and if his gf will spill diet coke all over the floorboard again. or if he'll mess with my GPS or take my $10 worth of quarters. But then if I say no, I need it. Then i look like the selfish daughter. I look like the person that can't help out her family. IT'S SO SO UNFAIR. COMPLETELY UNFAIR. I hate hate hate hate hate that I care about pleasing people. I really do. I wish I could just blow people off and not care. For Matt, he does this all the time, yet no one cares. It's like they've dealt with it and accepted that quality from him. I mean, it sucks. It sucks being the perfectionist. Why can't I just not care?????
I asked S's opinion of the situation the other night. I said, what should I do? And he brought up the question of, "do i trust my brother?" and i said, no, not completely. And that's true. I mean, the last time he borrowed my car, I was in Paris. But the time before that, i had $10 worth of quarters in my ashtray. when I got my car back, he had ripped into it, but hadn't taken anything. He had reprogrammed my GPS, but didn't ruin it. And he had put gas in my car, but had a huge stain from split diet coke on the floorboard. AND to top it all off, he didn't even apologize about the stained floorboard until I brought it up, asking "hey, did anything happen to my car? It looks like the floorboard is stained" "Ohh, yea. um. that. Sorry, it was kylie's fault. she split her diet coke all over. I told mom to tell you about it. i was gonna get it cleaned for you but didn't have time." SUREEEEEEEE. Yet i bring this up with my mom and she's like "oh yea, he was gonna clean it but he doesn't have the money Court. give him a break." WHATEVER. I just wanted to put my fingers in my ears, stick out my tongue, and walk around saying, "whatever, i'm not listeninggg"
Anyways, back to S. He basically said I had two options; I could stand firm or I could "be a blessing to my parents" *ROLLS EYES* *gag me. seriously. i'm all about being a good person and a good christian, but when you say it like that, "blessing" it's like FINE. way to make me feel 110% worse about my decision. It's like a lose lose, no matter what I don't get my way. and that sucks. because it's MY car, MY insurance payment, MY car payment. if anything happens to MY car, I'm the one that's SCREWED. Not Matt, not S, not my parents. So, me being upset, I said to S "Rawr. ok. thanks for your opinion," to which he replied "that wasn't my opinion. what i see is that you have two options." But it's like OF COURSE that was your opinion. OF COURSE if you were me in this situation, you would be a "blessing." It's like UGHHHHHH, I can't win. For those that have read this far, I did give in. I dealt with the fam on Thursday on my way to work, and offered to switch cars on Friday.
I just hope that I get my car back in one piece and with gas. gas is really expensive. took me $61 to fill up last week.
I asked S's opinion of the situation the other night. I said, what should I do? And he brought up the question of, "do i trust my brother?" and i said, no, not completely. And that's true. I mean, the last time he borrowed my car, I was in Paris. But the time before that, i had $10 worth of quarters in my ashtray. when I got my car back, he had ripped into it, but hadn't taken anything. He had reprogrammed my GPS, but didn't ruin it. And he had put gas in my car, but had a huge stain from split diet coke on the floorboard. AND to top it all off, he didn't even apologize about the stained floorboard until I brought it up, asking "hey, did anything happen to my car? It looks like the floorboard is stained" "Ohh, yea. um. that. Sorry, it was kylie's fault. she split her diet coke all over. I told mom to tell you about it. i was gonna get it cleaned for you but didn't have time." SUREEEEEEEE. Yet i bring this up with my mom and she's like "oh yea, he was gonna clean it but he doesn't have the money Court. give him a break." WHATEVER. I just wanted to put my fingers in my ears, stick out my tongue, and walk around saying, "whatever, i'm not listeninggg"
Anyways, back to S. He basically said I had two options; I could stand firm or I could "be a blessing to my parents" *ROLLS EYES* *gag me. seriously. i'm all about being a good person and a good christian, but when you say it like that, "blessing" it's like FINE. way to make me feel 110% worse about my decision. It's like a lose lose, no matter what I don't get my way. and that sucks. because it's MY car, MY insurance payment, MY car payment. if anything happens to MY car, I'm the one that's SCREWED. Not Matt, not S, not my parents. So, me being upset, I said to S "Rawr. ok. thanks for your opinion," to which he replied "that wasn't my opinion. what i see is that you have two options." But it's like OF COURSE that was your opinion. OF COURSE if you were me in this situation, you would be a "blessing." It's like UGHHHHHH, I can't win. For those that have read this far, I did give in. I dealt with the fam on Thursday on my way to work, and offered to switch cars on Friday.
I just hope that I get my car back in one piece and with gas. gas is really expensive. took me $61 to fill up last week.
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