A girl goes away for 8 months, and everyone changes. People having babies, breaking up, getting face transplants….
It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.
P.S. I got a face transplant. And I missed you.
Last time I visited Tumblr, I made a huge (unfulfilled) promise that I would visit more to heart and love you, but I lied. I just don’t have the time to sit in front of the computer like I did. Plus, I don’t have a desk yet, so it physically hurts to sit on the floor for more than 10 minutes. BUT,
MAMA GOT A JOB!!!! WHEEEEEEEEEEE! I initially thought I’d have to settle for a low-paying clerical job, since I’ve been a sahm for almost 6 years, but I landed a fucking fine-ass job!! Great company, great pay, and it utilizes my many amazing skills. (sadly, not my bj skills)
I thought that in itself would be a huge weight off of my shoulders, but oddly I’m still stressed out. Like, chest pain stressed out. Which is why I’m listening to Under Pressure by David Bowie featuring Queen. David Bowie is like a nice soft pillow….covered with pink and blue eyeshadow and glitter.
And I’ve taken myself off the market. Online dating is not to my taste. At least right now. I had one date—the guy I mentioned before. He has not so much a sense of humor. Not enough of one for me, anyways. I went on one other date, and he turned out to be shorter, way fatter, and way more irritating in person. I’m too busy, anyways. Maybe when I’m 50….
expertprimate replied to your post: Doctor Who
I don’t have a link, so I’ll just spoil them for you. Amy is everybody’s mom. Even Rory! EWWW!
HAHA! I’m sad that I’m just seeing this now.
Someone give me a link where I can watch the 2 episodes of this season of Doctor Who that were on right before The Girl Who Waited.
STAT!
This set of conversations was prompted by one son telling me something absolutely horrible and heartbreaking regarding the other son.
Me: Okay, you can’t hit our child. It’s not acceptable. Find a way to deal with naughty behavior so he can visit you without coming home with stories and marks on his body.
Him: Okay. I will. I need to do this.
Me: Here’s a book I read, it’s been super helpful, and both of them have excellent behavior at home for me. Life is a joy because of what is contained in this book.
Him: Ok, I’ll get it.
Me: Did you get the book?
Him: Uh, no. It was checked out at our library. They had it at another library.
Me: You can reserve it dipshit, and they send it to your library.
Him: Yeah well, *mumble mumble mumble*
Me: *I hope you fucking die of a painful heart attack the next time you try to hit my child*
Karma is a bitch, motherfucker.
I love twenty-somethings who post all over the internet like they have so much experience and know what they’re talking about. I know I am not that much older, and don’t have a ton more experience, but I am not the end of the line for relationship advice. And neither are you.
Granted, I was entirely opinionated when I was that age, too. I have mellowed a large amount, and I have some advice for you. Ignore that shit. That shit you don’t like? Let it roll off your back. Go in one ear and out the other. And don’t let every post you make be an attack on or judgement of someone you don’t even know. Fuck off and let people live their lives, Whiney McComplainsomuch.
I have no problem with you having or stating your opinion. Just know that it’s your opinion, not fact, and doesn’t need to be shoved down our throats 10 times a day in an aggressive manner. Post some nice pics, something funny, reblog something interesting. A cat video, perhaps. Make teh interwebz a nicer place by not passing along the asshattery.
I’m watching Chewed Up for the millionth time. You know what that is.
