risks...

So I totally had a couple airhead moments at work. But I really can't say what I did because when I first wrote it down it wasn't funny. Don't you hate that? It's like when you have an awesome dream and when you start to tell someone you find out that it really isn't that awesome when you put it into words.

My brain is awesome. I wish we could record some of the stuff that goes through it. Do you ever think in pictures? I do.

I'm feeling great. I've had some crampy stuff, but over all we are still good. I think I'm getting bigger. I "feel" it. I keep thinking- I can't get much bigger, right? Then I remember that I have like 6 1/2 more months of this.

I really like mashed potatoes.

I had a company that wanted to interview me and after some good face book advice (I thought who would hire a pregnant lady? I know companies can't not hire me because of discrimination, but with that said who is going to hire someone that is only going to be there a few months and then be off for a month and a half?) I decided to call them back and schedule it.

Well turns out that I did interview with them... One of the 16 plus places I interviewed with over the summer. She said she would look into it and get back with me... I'm still waiting. poo on them.

I had another company that wanted to interview me and I called them and they said they can only do them tomorrow. Well I'm kind of working tomorrow and that place is a stickler for attendance (so I can't miss work). Of course if I knew I had the job I wouldn't worry. So what to do? Risk my current job for something else I don't even know? I would like to take the risk, but at the same time I don't think I can handle the risk if the consequences are dire. By "dire" I mean fire-d.

Hormones

ugh- I am feeling more hormonal than I have since last time I was hormonal. I read some stupid forward email my grandma sent me. It made me cry. I'm sitting here sniffling at this silly email and my kids are going to be home from school any minute. They'll probably think I'm a nut. That is if they don't already. I'm sure this pregnancy will do it for them. I can't believe you just said that!

Anyway the best news- Kirby and I got to hear our baby's heartbeat. It was awesome. I love it. Not that there were ever any doubts about being pregnant, but it's comforting to hear it and know it's there. I've been feeling the baby move here and there, fluttering around in my belly. Now if only I can stop the horrible stomachaches and cramping things will be perfect! I guess that's not too bad, I could always have some other grievance. Knowing me I'm sure I would. I find that I tend to complain a lot. I am working on it tho!

That is why I decided not to blog what I originally wanted to. I'm really peeved at my controlling boss man... I was going to give him an earful- through my blog of course, but I won't let that controller ruin my good day (so I'll let him off the blook)!

Blook was short for blog hook.

Gwyn has a 2ND grade concert thingie and I'm really looking forward to it. I know she's been excited. As soon as homework is finished I'm going to fix her hair up. She wants me to straighten it.

"The List"

Kirby said the other day I should just make him a list of everything I've been craving- since it varies from day to day... Hmm where to start? I'll mark the stuff I have gotten with a :), but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want a replay.

chicken strip basket from DQ (with the Texas toast and gravy)- :)
Mashed potatoes and gravy - real ones. :)
thin mints :)
pickles :)
crackers- like cheese its
enchiladas :)
chalupa from taco bell :)
shrimp :)
sauteed mushrooms :)
macaroni and cheese :)
three cheese chicken penne from applebees
sand which with tomato, emphasis on the tomato any kind of sandwich :)
lunch meat sandwich- like turkey, lettuce, tomato, mayo or mustard
bread sticks :)
strawberry cake with strawberry icing
Crab Rangoon
Chinese :)
"something hearty"
Kirby's home made yogurt- minus the fruit chunks
cool whip :) (I had it with my jello)
pumpkin pie
jello :)
asparagus
corn dog
McDonald's breakfast

That is all I can think of for now that has been on my mind. Yeah I'll eat pretty much anything if it sounds good at the moment. I'm sure there will be more. Listing all that kind of made me hungry.

Here are some stuff that I DON'T want.

"my usual's"
ground beef- like all mushed
hamburger helper
the bottom of lasagna (where the ground beef usually is)
pizza with hamburger
sloppy joes
dirty rice

Fe-blah-urary

ugh. I sit here. I want to blog, but even my regular word vomit doesn't want to spill out. It's like I have so much to say, but nothing really comes out. Not even my pointless blabber.

I'm feeling a little pointless recently. I want some Taco Bell. My Chaluuupa!

Twenty –three years

This is very personal from Joe, but every time I read it, it moves me. Really makes you think. Thank you Joe for giving me permission to share these personal feelings of yours on my blog.

Twenty –three years: nearly a quarter of a century comes to end with a few scratches of a pen; possibly a question from the judge; maybe the banging of a gavel. It’s over, just like that. A new chapter, perhaps even a new book starts with a new title for the main character: Respondent. Just like that, I cease to be lover, companion, husband and spouse even Joe, Honey or Dear. Well, there is another title but I am not so proud of that one: ex. That carries a connotation of failure and I am a stranger to failure. The one title that doesn’t change, however, is that of parent, father, dad and even daddy when the need arises, although I prefer pops or poppa.

Twenty-three years: over and done with. It’s now you and me. I could humanize you and reveal your name but as long as I refer to you as You, She and Her, it’s not personal. That’s how we ended it you realize: nothing personal just business; negotiations over the phone; taking notes; more compromise during those last few days than the last 5 years.

Twenty-three years; more than half my life with the same someone; there’s no more us or ours; simply yours, mine; mostly yours now. It didn’t just end because my socks were always in the middle of the floor—they weren’t—or because you didn’t cook dinner—you didn’t, I did. Somewhere along the way, the look that could cause my heart to skip a beat turned into one that could crack granite and freeze water. Somewhere along the way the times I couldn’t breathe because you took my breath away with a kiss or entered the room turned into I couldn’t breathe because you made me so angry and I had to hold my tongue because I could only spew hate and venom. Somewhere along the way the lips I longed to kiss and dreamed of whenever I was away ceased to say things that were sweet and charming and began to utter words that were bitter, and angry; that hurt and cut my feelings to the core.

Twenty-three years: over and done with. I can’t pinpoint one moment in time where it went wrong but if I choose, I can divulge several moments where I consciously decided I was done begging for your affection; I was done trying to forgive you; I was done worrying about what made you happy. When I began to care more for not making you angry than making you happy, I knew things had changed. Some line had been crossed and I don’t even know where or when it was crossed. I don’t even have to try to recall moments when I realized you quit trying to make our house a home; moments when I ceased to be your husband and became your indentured servant; moments when I realized I was no longer a partner to fulfill a mutual dream and just a direct deposit so you could maintain your standard of living.

Twenty-three years: brought to a conclusion neither one of us ever envisioned nearly a quarter century ago. We didn’t forgive. We didn’t forget. We chose I and me over Us. We quit. We quit each other. And quitters never win.