Reader discretion is advised

Warning: graphic grossness is involved in this blahg, so if you're easily grossed out, my dad or a boy in general who doesn't like reading about the trials and tribulations of the female "monthly's", then I suggest you don't read this. That is all

A funny thing happened to me in the bathroom the other day. As I was dropping the kids off at the pool (read: pooing) yesterday morning, I realized there was something not right. I felt as if there was something trying to make its way out of my chonch. I started to freak out that I was having a miscarriage, even though I KNOW I'm not or haven't been preggers for a VERY long time. So as I reached between my legs to see what it was, I felt something. I quickly withdrew my hand, shaking, not sure what was going on. Finally after a few seconds, deep breaths and words of encouragement to myself, I went back in. What I discovered freaked me out. It was a tampon. One that I had inserted 2 weeks ago. TWO WEEKS. I remember putting it in, then the next morning when I went to take it out, I couldn't find it, so I assumed I hadn't and just thought I had, since I was wasted I could have easily forgotten.

Gross. I know. When I was sick last week, it was Toxic Sock Syndrom. And I noticed that I've been having really sharp pains in the pelvic area, and now I know why.

That's pretty much the extent of my excitement for the week. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Under a rock

I was sick for the past few days. I didn't drink for the past few days. Therefore I was a lightweight when I went out last night. Four, maybe five beers later and I could barely walk. That'll show me to stop drinking.

While I was in bed for those few days, I couldn't help but over think things...between sleeping that is. When I'm at home alone, left to my own devices, I tend to do that...over think that is. I couldn't help but keep thinking about my loneliness. Yes I am surrounded by family. Yes I am surrounded by friends. But being that I'm a big spoiled brat, being sick with no one to take care of me really sucked. I actually called the ex to come to my house to baby me. And to take care of the kitties. Being sick is actually one of the few times I miss being married. Not like I can call the new guy to take care of me, he hasn't even met the kids yet (and won't for a long time) so that's nil. So in came the ex to the rescue. Just as a side note, the new guy doesn't mind that the ex comes around and is my good friend. But that's an entirely different story altogether. Its nice to have someone take care of you. Especially when the majority of your life is spent in prisons of loneliness. I don't understand it, but I guess that's just how life goes.

Being that I was sleeping all day, my night sleep patterns were thrown off. And while I was up in the middle of the night, I got inspired. I put my laziness aside, pulled out my laptop and concocted a first rough draft of the introduction to my in-the-works book. You know the one. The one on the trials and tribulations of internet dating. The one on cynicism on dating in general. So I think I pretty much broke the writing laziness I've had lately. Let the fun begin.

So now I guess I'll make my way back home. And possibly make my way to Renee C.'s pool to enjoy the beautiful weather we're having right now with hopes of tanning my too white for a Mexican legs. Albino isn't the right description, but its the first that comes to mind.

Where's a dealer when I need one

I am oh so tired. I know I go and stay out all hours of the night even though I have to wake up early for school, but why oh why am I this tired? I think I fell asleep somewhere between 8 and 8:30 last night. That is supremely early for me. But I couldn't help it. I was sleepy. And I'm still sleepy.

I think I need some crack. Because them I'm sure I wouldn't be so tired. Maybe I'd look like hell, but I'd be wide awake nonetheless. I know what ya'll are thinking right now...why not just stop staying out so late and/or being an insomniac? Because, my friends, that would not be as fun for me. Or for you, because then I wouldn't have zany crack head antics to write about in my blahgs. See how that works? Then everyone's happy.

Ok, so I guess I really won't start smoking crack, but damn if I could catch a break and not be so sleepy all the time. Wait, I know what it is...it's all those damn highlights I've been doing at school. I hate doing them (though I'm totally bitchin' at them) because they are not fun. The make my back hurt and take too long. And I swear the front desk hates me and knows I hate them and purposely give me so many damn highlights.

Meh, I guess I should stop bitching. Although, who am I trying to fool. We all know its what I'm good at. You know, besides doing hair.

So, back to the crack. Anyone got some? Ok, I just like saying the word crack. It's funny. You know it is, don't deny it.

::Sigh:: I guess I should go pass out...or I'll probably go hang out with the "bf" (read: the new guy). I'll probably never learn my lesson. Ah, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.

Give me your money

For those of you that wanted to see my bracelets, here they are...well, one of them at least. This one is two-tone (but I can make them a single-tone) with swaroski crystals and glass beads and is 5 strand (they come in 3 and 4 strand also). The bracelet is made out of ribbon. If you want one,e-mail me or comment me and let me know. I can do dark green, light blue, white, purple, light pink, dark pink, beige and...I think that's all the colors I have. If there is a different color you want, let me know and I'll see if I can find it...I can only use a certain type of ribbon for these, so if they don't make the color you want, you're s.o.l. (read: shit out of luck)! But seriously, you know you want one...they're real pretty. So buy one and give me your money.

Side note: These are made with love...you know, cause I'm full of it.

7 things you don't really care to know about me

I'm stealing this from the lovely Alimony's blog...we used to be old roller derby teammates and I heart her even though I don't see her anymore.

1. One of my biggest fears is zombies...especially kid zombies...but i know they're not real
2. I am the biggest nerd you will ever meet
3. I have a constant inner-mononlogue going...at all times
4. I have a secret obsession with cheerleading...and used to want to be one
5. When I'm alone, I supermodel runway walk down the hallway
6. I nickname almost everybody i meet
7. I absolutely hate excessive (or even moderate) grammatical and spelling errors

There, seven useless facts about me you wish you didn't know. Or maybe just didn't care enough to think about it that much! I'm extremely sleepy, overworked and not payed and my boobs hurt. Stupid being a girl. Maybe I should stop going out on school nights and actually stay home and sleep. But then if I did that, I'd have nothing to bitch about. Catch 22 isn't the right cliche, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Boredom at its best

Not one client this entire week. Not. ONE. I think the receptionists hate me. Maybe. I don't know. Or maybe it's that one that's a huge bitch that is just trying to fuck with me. I really would like to punch her in the face. But considering that I was just terminated, I have to tread on thin ice. But she really is a bitch and I hate her with a fiery passion. And I don't hate people like that very often. But I digress. It has been a very slow and boring week of quotas, magazine reading and chain smoking. Gawd help me.

On an even more annoying note, my tax money is officially gone...and I don't even remember saving it. Well, that's not true. But I was trying to be real careful this time, but, apparently, to no avail. Well, that's life. My life to be exact. I always figure out what to do in the end and come through somewhat unharmed. Oh, I could have been the star of My So-Called Life. Then married Jared Leto. I'm just saying.