Tired
The Person I Admire the Most.
The Person I Admire The Most:
By: Amy
The person that admire the most is a young lady who has grace, pose and confidence. She is my daughter.
My favorite thing about her, is her laugh. She laughs from way deep inside her soul. When she does share her laugh with the world she still has the laugh of a sweet child. My daughter has the best sense of humor.
Another thing that is great about my daughter is that she 'hearts' her father. The three of us get along so well and how many families can say that nowadays.
I like her because she goes and gets me water with ice. She is doing that right now. She is a good girl.
Oh, and ask her a question, man is she smart. I admire her brains too.
I admire the friendship she give to all of her friends. If you are one of my daughter's friends then you are very lucky.
I love the fact that she will still go out in public with me. Enough said about that one.
I also admire the way she sings in the shower. She holds a rock-out performance everyday.
Actually come to think I admire and love everything about my daughter...go figure.
I am the biggest fan my daughter will ever have...
By: Amy
The person that admire the most is a young lady who has grace, pose and confidence. She is my daughter.
My favorite thing about her, is her laugh. She laughs from way deep inside her soul. When she does share her laugh with the world she still has the laugh of a sweet child. My daughter has the best sense of humor.
Another thing that is great about my daughter is that she 'hearts' her father. The three of us get along so well and how many families can say that nowadays.
I like her because she goes and gets me water with ice. She is doing that right now. She is a good girl.
Oh, and ask her a question, man is she smart. I admire her brains too.
I admire the friendship she give to all of her friends. If you are one of my daughter's friends then you are very lucky.
I love the fact that she will still go out in public with me. Enough said about that one.
I also admire the way she sings in the shower. She holds a rock-out performance everyday.
Actually come to think I admire and love everything about my daughter...go figure.
I am the biggest fan my daughter will ever have...
I Wouldn't Kick Him Out of Bed For Eating Crackers!
When I watch TV, see a movie, or when a cute crooner catches my fancy I always say, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers!' It's pretty bad. It's a knee jerk reaction.
I saw a movie that featured Jude Law and the first thing out of my mouth was, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.' Jude Law really isn't even my type with the exception of his adorable face, and that accent. He gets a lot of bonus points for his accent. If I am being completely honest the whole UK starts out in a positive due to the accent thing.
I saw a movie that featured Jude Law and the first thing out of my mouth was, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.' Jude Law really isn't even my type with the exception of his adorable face, and that accent. He gets a lot of bonus points for his accent. If I am being completely honest the whole UK starts out in a positive due to the accent thing.
Now to whom do I share this tidbit of information with? Why it is none other than my darling husband! Who always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he doesn't want to hear anything about crackers, beds, and other men, then maybe he should go to different movie theaters, watch different TVs, or never listen to music with me. Then there will never be that awkward moment when I kick him in the gut with my knee jerk reaction.
Cute unattainable Hollywood hunk= dumb ass sayings. That is my problem.
Cute unattainable Hollywood hunk= dumb ass sayings. That is my problem.
If I suddenly tried to take what I said back I don't think anyone would believe me. I say this phrase almost every time I see a famous man who I think is hot-damn. Just so you know that I am not a cracker ho; I do not mentally invite random people off the street to have a cracker buffet on my mattress. I do have 'Hollywood' standards.Sorry if your not famous then please exit stage right.
As I was saying, as the credits rolled and Jude's name flashed by, I turned to my sweet husband, and informed him that Jude Law would be on my ever growing list of those who were allowed to cracker dine in my bed without repercussions.
To which my husband smiled and said, 'It's just nice to know you would never kick me out of bed for eating crackers either.'
To which my husband smiled and said, 'It's just nice to know you would never kick me out of bed for eating crackers either.'
Then it hit me. The night before my husband had brought some saltines with him to bed. I thought it was an odd choice for someone with a case of the midnight munches. But who am I to judge? He ate his crackers, gave me a happy kiss and went to sleep. I went to sleep thinking of how much I loved him. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
HE GOT ME WITH THE CRACKERS! It was a test.
I can only imagine what would have happened if I had told him to get his saltine butt out of my bed. Of course I never would have done that. I love him more than anything in this whole world. Even if he had went all 'Cookie Monster' on those crackers, and the crackers went flying every which way I would have never ask him to leave.
Truth be told if all of the cute guys from Tinseltown came knocking on my door wanting to spend quality cracker time with me; I would get their autographs and introduce them to my husband.
I can only imagine what would have happened if I had told him to get his saltine butt out of my bed. Of course I never would have done that. I love him more than anything in this whole world. Even if he had went all 'Cookie Monster' on those crackers, and the crackers went flying every which way I would have never ask him to leave.
Truth be told if all of the cute guys from Tinseltown came knocking on my door wanting to spend quality cracker time with me; I would get their autographs and introduce them to my husband.
And as for my husband: I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
What Are They Saying?
Currently I am watching the rain fall from my bed. I am confined to my bed. My brain had big plans today, but my bossy body said, 'Well, that's too bad, so sad. You're staying right here.'
One thing I was not going to do today was clean my house. I don't do that anymore. (No, you won't see me on an upcoming episode of A&E's Hoarders.) I hired weekly housekeepers. See, there is a silver lining to this whole thing! I get someone else to clean my bathrooms!
I just sat around while the cleaning ladies cleaned. It was pretty nice. Actually it was pretty freaking awesome.
I seriously have to learn Spanish though because the ladies who clean my house speak Spanish. I want to know if they are talking about me, and my house. I need to know if I am being insulted.
I also need to learn Vietnamese for that matter. When I get pedicures done I seem to get them done by sweet Vietnamese girls, however I am always paranoid that they are jabbing between themselves, talking about how crusty my feet are. It makes me a little self-conscience when they chortle back and forth. But in my defense I just have to say if my feet were perfect I wouldn't need a pedicure. So chortle away ladies!
I am looking forward to next week. I am going to my doctor today and he is going to find away to fix this anemic thing I got going on. If Google is right, then all I need are some injections and I will be as right as rain. Then I will never see this bed again except between the hours of 11pm and 7am.
When my daughter was only two years old and it was time for her to go to bed; she would climb up the stairs mumbling to herself the same four words night after night.
I would like to quote her now, as I can not think of any other phrase that would express how I feel in this very moment.
This was her catchphrase: 'I hate my stupid bed!' Well said my sweet darling girl!
- I was going to shopping for new clothes
- I was going to go for coffee- to my favorite Starbucks of course, of course.
- I was going to get my name changed on my medical card from my maiden name to my married name. I am married in everyone's eyes with the exception of the medical community. I am still known by my maiden name to them. I haven't been married that long, only 16 years. Great, now my doctor's receptionist is going to give me the stink eye when I go in today. I promised with my hand on my heart that I would get my name changed. She has been chewing me out for so long. All I have to do is go down to Service BC, show my marriage certificate, and the lady at the desk will do the rest. I don't have to do anything but stand there and smile. Oh man I hate the stink eye
One thing I was not going to do today was clean my house. I don't do that anymore. (No, you won't see me on an upcoming episode of A&E's Hoarders.) I hired weekly housekeepers. See, there is a silver lining to this whole thing! I get someone else to clean my bathrooms!
I just sat around while the cleaning ladies cleaned. It was pretty nice. Actually it was pretty freaking awesome.
I seriously have to learn Spanish though because the ladies who clean my house speak Spanish. I want to know if they are talking about me, and my house. I need to know if I am being insulted.
I also need to learn Vietnamese for that matter. When I get pedicures done I seem to get them done by sweet Vietnamese girls, however I am always paranoid that they are jabbing between themselves, talking about how crusty my feet are. It makes me a little self-conscience when they chortle back and forth. But in my defense I just have to say if my feet were perfect I wouldn't need a pedicure. So chortle away ladies!
I am looking forward to next week. I am going to my doctor today and he is going to find away to fix this anemic thing I got going on. If Google is right, then all I need are some injections and I will be as right as rain. Then I will never see this bed again except between the hours of 11pm and 7am.
When my daughter was only two years old and it was time for her to go to bed; she would climb up the stairs mumbling to herself the same four words night after night.
I would like to quote her now, as I can not think of any other phrase that would express how I feel in this very moment.
This was her catchphrase: 'I hate my stupid bed!' Well said my sweet darling girl!
My Safeway Starbucks
I live in Canada, and in my neck of the woods we experienced a big snow dump last week which included an arctic cold front. Wow, it's a good thing my friends, family and I all live in Canada as we had the luxury of waiting for the storm to be over in the comfort of our igloos.
I'm lucky my igloo is surrounded by three Starbucks. Even better news those guys at Starbucks are just finishing another location, so soon I will have four Starbucks to choose from! The best part is I don't even have to take the sled dogs out because the Starbucks people made sure that I could walk to all of them within five minutes. Cool.
My favorite Starbucks is located in my neighborhood Safeway grocery store. I know weird, huh? It doesn't have the comfortable chairs, and you can't choose from a million different pastries because they are just a tiny-rinky-dinky location, but they make the best drinks in the world.
I have deduced a few things about the management of this Starbucks, which is one gentleman by the name of Jeff.
To his credit and the other staff members long hair or not they never have frown-y faces. I went to a different Starbucks last week. I had to as I was out of town. The woman behind the counter had a bad attitude. She was all up in my grill about how I said my coffee order, she was rolling her eyes at me. It took all I had not to say, 'Am I bothering you? Is this a work for free day?' The coffee tasted crappy, but that is what I get for cheating on Jeff and the girls.
Now I make espresso drinks at home. My guest tell me that they are delicious. I have spent a lot of money on my equipment, and about ten years learning my craft. I can make you a foot of foam if you desire; yeah I am that good.
If I needed to get a job I would think Starbucks would be a perfect fit for me. I love their coffee, they would let me drink it for free, and they would pay me to make it.
I also think I am super qualified to work at a Starbucks if you minus out my crappy stuff that keeps me from going back to work for real. I am smart, super friendly, my husband says I am pretty, I can make you a kick-ass coffee. Yeah, but what's the point I could never be hired at my favorite location. My dreams of being a 'Super Barista' have gone up in smoke because I have short hair.
I could grow it long, but truth be told I look crappy with long hair.
If I want to be a barista my only option at this time would be to go to the grocery store across the street from Safeway and ask them if I can set up my espresso machine in their store. I would serve up the world's greatest coffee there. I would call a throw down on Jeff that's for sure! I know how to train people too, and I would only hire smart, sweet, good looking guys with short hair.
However, I got a pretty nice gig sleeping in until nine in the morning, sitting around in my jammies until whenever,and then strolling over to have great coffee at Jeff's Starbucks. They know my friends and I. As soon as they see me coming to the counter they are already making my drink.
It's a sunny day today and I am thinking about going out for coffee, but the truth is today it is just a pipe dream, because I'm anemic. The five minute walk might as well be five hours. Instead I will just give Jeff and the girls a nod and thought, and maybe tomorrow I will well enough to get out there and go and see them.
I'm lucky my igloo is surrounded by three Starbucks. Even better news those guys at Starbucks are just finishing another location, so soon I will have four Starbucks to choose from! The best part is I don't even have to take the sled dogs out because the Starbucks people made sure that I could walk to all of them within five minutes. Cool.
My favorite Starbucks is located in my neighborhood Safeway grocery store. I know weird, huh? It doesn't have the comfortable chairs, and you can't choose from a million different pastries because they are just a tiny-rinky-dinky location, but they make the best drinks in the world.
I have deduced a few things about the management of this Starbucks, which is one gentleman by the name of Jeff.
- He makes great drinks.
- He is an awesome mentor, because all of the girls make the same great tasting drinks. It is never a hit and miss there.
- He seems to only hire girls. I have seen the occasional boy, but they don't seem to last long.
- He hires a certain 'type' of girl: The 'type' of girl he hires can be classified as: intelligent, sweet, having a good attitude, and must have long hair.
To his credit and the other staff members long hair or not they never have frown-y faces. I went to a different Starbucks last week. I had to as I was out of town. The woman behind the counter had a bad attitude. She was all up in my grill about how I said my coffee order, she was rolling her eyes at me. It took all I had not to say, 'Am I bothering you? Is this a work for free day?' The coffee tasted crappy, but that is what I get for cheating on Jeff and the girls.
Now I make espresso drinks at home. My guest tell me that they are delicious. I have spent a lot of money on my equipment, and about ten years learning my craft. I can make you a foot of foam if you desire; yeah I am that good.
If I needed to get a job I would think Starbucks would be a perfect fit for me. I love their coffee, they would let me drink it for free, and they would pay me to make it.
I also think I am super qualified to work at a Starbucks if you minus out my crappy stuff that keeps me from going back to work for real. I am smart, super friendly, my husband says I am pretty, I can make you a kick-ass coffee. Yeah, but what's the point I could never be hired at my favorite location. My dreams of being a 'Super Barista' have gone up in smoke because I have short hair.
I could grow it long, but truth be told I look crappy with long hair.
If I want to be a barista my only option at this time would be to go to the grocery store across the street from Safeway and ask them if I can set up my espresso machine in their store. I would serve up the world's greatest coffee there. I would call a throw down on Jeff that's for sure! I know how to train people too, and I would only hire smart, sweet, good looking guys with short hair.
However, I got a pretty nice gig sleeping in until nine in the morning, sitting around in my jammies until whenever,and then strolling over to have great coffee at Jeff's Starbucks. They know my friends and I. As soon as they see me coming to the counter they are already making my drink.
It's a sunny day today and I am thinking about going out for coffee, but the truth is today it is just a pipe dream, because I'm anemic. The five minute walk might as well be five hours. Instead I will just give Jeff and the girls a nod and thought, and maybe tomorrow I will well enough to get out there and go and see them.
"I Read This in a Magazine!"
How many people out there have in-laws? Raise your hands. I do. Why do the in-laws get such a bad reputation? Most people get married, and marriage is one of those things that is continued along the generations, right? Which means that at some point most people will become an in-law to someone. Does that mean we all end up to be assholes? I don't think so. Unless there is some kind of in-law parenting school where they teach you how to become an asshole. I firmly believe that most people have nice, and dare I say wonderful in-laws. It's the medias fault for tainting societies view of the 'Mother-in-Law-From-Hell'!
(I detest seafood and that is why she references fish the way she does.)
I am going there for dinner tonight. I wonder what we will be dining on? But one thing I know for sure is when I see her I will be giving her a big hug for caring so much.
Granted some people do have in-laws we would rather lock in the basement, and I feel for you guys. I however do not.
I am very lucky to have such a wonderful family watching out for me. But they do have their quirks. For instance my father-in-law has a thing against Bill Gates. (Bill, if your reading this, I am sorry. He thinks you should let people think more for themselves. Windows does all the work now. You're treating people like they're morons, man.) My mother-in-law reads magazines. The reading is not the part that can drive you crazy. It's the meal planning.
She doesn't necessarily make those recipes you find in the magazines, because that would be okay I guess. No she reads the health parts. She finds out what foods we should or should not be eating and determines our next meal that way. If we had a doll made in her likeness and gave it a pull string that doll would say:
'I read it in a magazine.'
'I saw this on Doctor Oz.'
'Let me Google that.'
'Do you want any tea?'
She means well, and as a Health-Nut-Sherlock-Holmes she hits the nail right on the head most times. All her expert detective work means we never get the Fun-Bad-For-Us-Food. She always cooks as healthy as possible. I know it is because she 'hearts' all of us.
Before she had time to read magazines she wasn't so healthy. My husband says they ate things like fat sandwiches. Now I would rather eat broccoli than a sandwich made out of left over fat but it does give us an good idea of how far she's come.
Now that I have CKD she has hit Google. I got this email from her the other day:
Just looked up what the renal diet consists of and there are lots of good things you like such as grapes, berries, cauliflower and apples. However, it also lists FISH. OOPS! Now what? Are we going fishing?
xx Sussie
(I detest seafood and that is why she references fish the way she does.)
I am going there for dinner tonight. I wonder what we will be dining on? But one thing I know for sure is when I see her I will be giving her a big hug for caring so much.
It's 4 am, I Lost The Battle With My Eyelids.
I live in an apartment nowadays. They call it a luxury apartment due to the granite counter tops, hardwood floors, over sized rooms, central air conditioning, a chef's kitchen, and most importantly the master bath tub can seriously fit four people in it. I have yet to try, but I'm really good at figuring things out spatially. Nevertheless a 1400 sq foot apartment is still not a house.
We were downsized this year.
We are very lucky. My husband found work right away in his field as an accountant. I don't work due to the fact I am on disability, and so far the Canadian government has not downsized me. I don't know many jobs that would pay me to take my medication and get well. I work very hard at being stable.
Mental illness is a challenge on the best of days. Just the drugs alone can be enough to turn your brain into pudding, at the same time it can be those drugs that make pudding your 'Happy Place', it is a vicious cycle involving pudding.
Yeah so. I now live in this wonderful A+ apartment, but the one thing that bothers me is: I don't have enough money to rent out the whole building to myself. For instance I have neighbors who live below me, and they must actually believe I want, no, no, crave to hear their music at 4 o'clock in the morning. It's the crappy kind of music that nobody likes unless you are getting high to it. I just had an idea: I think they might be doing BC bud downstairs! That would explain the bad music and the total disregard for folks that have to sleep. Thanks, downstairs neighbors I too can enjoy your pot-head-classic-music until daybreak!
I really want to go to sleep. I keep trying to close my eyes but they won't stay shut, which makes me think my eyelids would rather being doing something besides sleeping. You know, if you can't sleep, it's your eyelids fault. You require those guys to do their job. You can sleep standing up, so you don't need your back, you can even fall asleep driving, which means your brain can somewhat be in the 'middle of something' before you run off the road, but it is your eyelids that make the final decision to go to sleep. My eyelids want to stay busy.
Yes, maybe I am a little on the up side of things. To tell you the truth this is the worse part of being manic. Not being able to sleep. It is lonely, scary, my mind starts to make my tired body do things like bleach the walls from top-to-bottom, or buy things off of eBay.
My wallet is safe, my walls still have marks, and I am not lonely because I blogged into the unknown universe.
Here's to hoping that my eyelids will start to cooperate with the sleeping medication I took. 'Yeah, you thought you were so smart. I gotcha there Eyelids.. I am mandating you back to work.
We were downsized this year.
We are very lucky. My husband found work right away in his field as an accountant. I don't work due to the fact I am on disability, and so far the Canadian government has not downsized me. I don't know many jobs that would pay me to take my medication and get well. I work very hard at being stable.
Mental illness is a challenge on the best of days. Just the drugs alone can be enough to turn your brain into pudding, at the same time it can be those drugs that make pudding your 'Happy Place', it is a vicious cycle involving pudding.
Yeah so. I now live in this wonderful A+ apartment, but the one thing that bothers me is: I don't have enough money to rent out the whole building to myself. For instance I have neighbors who live below me, and they must actually believe I want, no, no, crave to hear their music at 4 o'clock in the morning. It's the crappy kind of music that nobody likes unless you are getting high to it. I just had an idea: I think they might be doing BC bud downstairs! That would explain the bad music and the total disregard for folks that have to sleep. Thanks, downstairs neighbors I too can enjoy your pot-head-classic-music until daybreak!
I really want to go to sleep. I keep trying to close my eyes but they won't stay shut, which makes me think my eyelids would rather being doing something besides sleeping. You know, if you can't sleep, it's your eyelids fault. You require those guys to do their job. You can sleep standing up, so you don't need your back, you can even fall asleep driving, which means your brain can somewhat be in the 'middle of something' before you run off the road, but it is your eyelids that make the final decision to go to sleep. My eyelids want to stay busy.
Yes, maybe I am a little on the up side of things. To tell you the truth this is the worse part of being manic. Not being able to sleep. It is lonely, scary, my mind starts to make my tired body do things like bleach the walls from top-to-bottom, or buy things off of eBay.
My wallet is safe, my walls still have marks, and I am not lonely because I blogged into the unknown universe.
Here's to hoping that my eyelids will start to cooperate with the sleeping medication I took. 'Yeah, you thought you were so smart. I gotcha there Eyelids.. I am mandating you back to work.
Our Happy Family
This is me. I'm 37 years old, sometimes I feel 67, but I always act 17. I live with my small family of four- if you count my puppy. I am married to the love of my life, he has been my rock for the last 21 years. We have a 14 year old daughter, and all I have to say is she is perfect in every way. We also have a sweet puppy. Yes, we have the complete package.
But every fairy tale has to have villains. In my fairy tale story we also feature: The Evil Bipolar Guy and his side-kicks Borderline Personalty Disorder Man, OCD Pest, and Body Dysmorphic Disorder Girl.
Last month a new group of characters knocked on the door and some dumb-butt let them in. I think it might've been the dog; he's really friendly, but I have no proof. The new guys are mean, and they make me tired. Mr, Anemia and his best friend Mr. Chronic Kidney Disease.
I am coping with my frienemies as best as I can. They are all here to see me. I should feel popular but instead I feel what is the words I am searching for?
'Frustrated, mad, and I don't know if I should laugh or cry.' One thing I know for sure the villains always get defeated and the Prince and the Princess always live happily ever after... Thanks Mr. Disney for giving me hope!
I just thought I would introduce you to my family. Come on in...
But every fairy tale has to have villains. In my fairy tale story we also feature: The Evil Bipolar Guy and his side-kicks Borderline Personalty Disorder Man, OCD Pest, and Body Dysmorphic Disorder Girl.
Last month a new group of characters knocked on the door and some dumb-butt let them in. I think it might've been the dog; he's really friendly, but I have no proof. The new guys are mean, and they make me tired. Mr, Anemia and his best friend Mr. Chronic Kidney Disease.
I am coping with my frienemies as best as I can. They are all here to see me. I should feel popular but instead I feel what is the words I am searching for?
'Frustrated, mad, and I don't know if I should laugh or cry.' One thing I know for sure the villains always get defeated and the Prince and the Princess always live happily ever after... Thanks Mr. Disney for giving me hope!
I just thought I would introduce you to my family. Come on in...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)