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 |  A continuation of my criminal blogging behavior. |
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IN THE WRITING.COM DISTRICT COURT FOR THE DISTRICT OF MICHIGAN Criminal Action No. 96-938-2 WRITING.COM Plaintiff, vs. Melissa is fashionably late!  Defendant. ************************************************************************ REPORTER'S TRANSCRIPT (Trial to Jury - Volume 222) ************************************************************************ Proceedings before the HONORABLE The StoryMaster  , Judge, Writing.Com District Court for the District of Michigan, commencing at 8:49 a.m., on the 5th day of April, 2007, in Chambers C-234, Writing.Com Courthouse.PROCEEDINGS (In open court at 8:49 a.m.) THE COURT: Please be seated. The jury has informed that they have arrived at their findings and recommendation. I caution all present to avoid any reaction to these findings and the recommendation, either audibly or visibly. And if anyone violates that, we'll have to remove them. Obviously, it will take some time to read these findings, as the recommendation is the last thing read; so please be careful and comply with this request. We'll return the jury. (Jury in at 8:53 a.m.) THE COURT: Members of the jury, have you arrived at your special findings and recommendation? JURORS: Yes. THE COURT: If the foreman will please hand that to Diane , who will hand it to me.Members of the jury, you will please listen to the reading of your Special Findings Form A. These findings apply to all 1184 counts. Under Section I, Obsessive Ranting: The defendant intentionally ranted without ceasing for multiple blog entries. Answer: Yes. Section II, Repeatedly Beating A Dead Horse The deaths or injuries resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 18 Writing.Com Code Section 844(d), flogging a horse until death. Answer: Yes. Section III, Unnecessary Use of Curse words The defendant used language to be found offensive during multiple occurences and showed no regard for taste or appropriate expression of emotion. Answer: Yes. Section IV, Boring Daily Recounts Death or injury resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 22 Writing.Com Code Section 413(c), recounting daily activity to a point of extreme boredom. Answer: Yes. Section V, Pointless Entries The defendant shared needless details of her life via multiple entries, often multiple times in a row. Answer: Yes. Section VI, Contradictory Statements The defendant often confused her readers through contradictory statements. Answer: Yes. Section VII, Recounting Toilet Actions The defendant needlessly reflected on bathroom activities. Answer: Yes. Section VIII, Overdramatization Of Insignificant Things The defendant made several mountains out of single molehills. Answer: Yes. Section IX, Overreacting To Meaningless Gestures The defendant showed a propensity to fly off the handle for actions deemed appropriate and helpful. Answer: Yes. Section X, Unnecessary Temper Tantrums Death or injury resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 18 Writing.Com Code Section 312(a), throwing a temper tantrum in a public forum. Answer: Yes. Section XI, Cruelty Towards Animals, Superiors, Peers, And Inferiors The defendant showed no regard for life in general. Answer: Yes. Section XII, Repeated Bad Grammar, Spelling, And Opinionations The defendant shows no respect for her college education. Answer: Yes. Section XIII, Mitigating Factors (1) Melissa is fashionably late! believed herself to be in the right each time she commited one of the 1184 counts. Number of jurors who so find: 0.(2) Melissa is fashionably late! received encouragement and support from others to commit each of the 1184 counts. Number of jurors who so find: 4.(3) Melissa is fashionably late! is a reliable person in work and in her personal affairs and relations with others. Number of jurors who so find: 7.(4) Melissa is fashionably late! is a patient and effective teacher when she is working in a supervisory role. Number of jurors who so find: 5.(5) Melissa is fashionably late! is a good and loyal friend. Number of jurors who so find: 12.(6) Melissa is fashionably late! is a good mother and wife. Number of jurors who so find: 10.Recommendation, XIV: The jury has considered whether the aggravating factors found to exist sufficiently outweigh any mitigating factor or factors found to exist, or in the absense of any mitigating factors, whether the aggravating factors are themselves sufficient to justify a sentence of life in prison. Based upon this consideration, the jury recommends by unanimous vote that the following sentence be imposed: The defendant, Melissa is fashionably late! , shall be sentenced to a period in prison not shorter than 18 years and not longer than life.The Special Findings appear to be signed by all jurors and dated April 5, 2007. XV. Certification: By signing below, each juror certifies that consideration of race, color, religious beliefs, national origin, or sex of the defendant or the victims was not involved in reaching his or her individual decision and that the individual juror would have made the same recommendation regarding a sentence for crimes in question no matter what the race, color, religious beliefs, national origin, or sex of the defendant or the victims. Apparently signed by all jurors and also dated April 5, 2007. Mr. Foreman, was these and are these the jury's special findings and recommendation: JURY FOREMAN: Yes, they are. THE COURT: And so say you all? JURORS: Yes. THE COURT: Section XVI. Sentencing Melissa is fashionably late! , the court finds you guilty on all 1184 counts of blog criminal activity. You are hereby sentenced to life in prison, with no chance of parole for a minimum of 18 years. Court is in recess. (Recess at 9:37 a.m.) ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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| I felt horrible all day today. My Mom ended up coming over with my neice this afternoon to entertain Ethan so I could get some extra rest. All I wanted to do was sleep, so that's what I did. I still don't feel very well. My Mom thinks that the baby's putting pressure on some nerve that makes me dizzy when I stand up and feel vomitty. I'm also having some pretty strong contractions. Not very often and nothing more than heavy B/H, but it makes me nervous. I have to make it until at least Wednesday so that I'm 37 weeks so I can be in the hydrotherapy tub. Well, getting back to my neice coming over. I hadn't seen her in two years and her Mom kicked her out of the house this week. She's only 13 years old, and the whole reason she got "kicked out" is because she called the cops on her Mom for smoking pot in front of her and the other kids. (This is the sister my parents adopted at 17 years old, who had been in the foster system for like 5 years before my parents could find her and adopt her, by the way. She was a kid that lived down the street from us whose Mom gave her up because, at 12 years old, she became "too difficult to manage."  )CPS ended up getting involved and Samantha came to stay with my Mom for the week until it could all get worked out. It involved Lynette threatening to put Samantha in the foster system, among other things. First of all, nobody in my family will allow Samantha to go into the foster system. I don't care if I have to spend all of the money we were going to use to put in the new bathroom to make a spare bedroom in the basement, that girl will never go into the foster system. But it's all moot anyway because they worked it out. Samantha's going back home tomorrow, which is kind of sad because she's really done well staying with my Mom & Dad and she really enjoyed being over at our house this afternoon. Ethan loved playing with her and she got him to pick up his toys!  That, in and of itself, is worth all of the money in the world. lol.Either way, Lynette needed someone to watch Sam on Sunday so that the rest of them could go to a birthday party at Lynette's blood-Mom's house. (Sam's not allowed to go there because she's broken things and stolen stuff - which I think is because Sheila, Lynette's Mom, is really, really mean to her - she tells her she's unwanted and stuff. As if!) I jumped on it, not only because I don't mind being there for her, but also because Ethan thought she was a joy. He was really upset when they left. Jason said he wanted to do something special with her, so we're going to take her out to lunch at Texas Corral and maybe take her and buy her an outfit. He feels bad because she's being excluded from family events. I almost went through the roof when she said she's had sex already, at 13 years old! It doesn't surprise me, though. If I had a grandmother and a mother making me feel like I'm unwanted, I'd probably have to seek validation through early sexual experiences. When I had mentioned to Jason yesterday about maybe offering her a place to stay here, he was completely against it. Then after he saw that she isn't the problem child her mother makes her out to be today, he immediately changed his tune. He said if we have to take her every weekend so that she would have a positive family experience, then that's what we would do. My Mom is also talking about doing the same thing. The girl obviously needs some positive role models and people who make her feel like they want her around. I know what it's like to feel like you're the one being picked on and I told Jason I just want to wrap my arms around her and protect her. She may not be my kid, but I took care of her from the time she was born until she was about 4 years old. I took care of her brother from the time he was born until he was 2. They might not be my kids, but I have enough love for my kids and my neice (and even my nephew). Alright. The Benadryl I took is finally starting to kick in. I'm off to sleep. Some more. |
| It's funny how every reaction I have to a situation revolves around the way my Mom and Dad made me feel as a kid and teen and how my need to control things is to prevent myself from having those reactions and feeling the way I feel when I don't have the control. Nobody likes to have the rug pulled out from under them, but I do know that I have a tendency to overreact in some situations. Yes, I freaked out about J's Mom's broken ankle, but I had all these plans and contingencies that became absolutely worthless in a matter of moments. At the time, I didn't realize why it bothered me so much, but I talked to Michelle today about my meltdown the other night revolving the broken ankle and I was able to put it into perspective. "How did you feel after the initial anger and frustration at the situation passed?" I told her I had said it best in my LiveJournal. I'm like a place setting at one of those tables where the magician plans to yank the cloth out from under the dishes. Some of the dishes stay securely in place, but then you'll have a piece of silverware or two that go flying in a chaotic clambor across the floor. I felt like that piece of silverware, flying out of control across the floor because I was scared of feeling alone and overwhelmed in the hospital once the baby comes. "Is there another time in your life where you felt alone and overwhelmed like that?" Well, when my Dad and I had that last, huge fight, and I was walking to my friend's house carrying all of my worldly possessions in a duffel bag, I had no clue how I was going to survive. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay with them for very long, and I had no idea where I would go once my welcome was worn out there. I had no idea how I was going to eat, have a roof over my head, and all of these adult things that I'd never had to worry about before. I felt like life was unfair because I shouldn't have had to worry about all of those adult things. I should have been spending that time excited about graduation and making plans for prom, and instead I was stuck having to fend for myself where my parents should have been taking care of me. We went on further to talk about Ethan and how I absolutely refuse to melt down in front of him. I internalize everything until I can deal with it when he's not around because I don't want him to have to worry about adult things or pick up on any of my high-strung tendencies, especially since he's so sensitive to my reactions to situations. I cried for a few minutes this morning because I threw up this morning and usually it resolves my reflux problems when this time it didn't. The reflux has been the major cause of my insomnia, besides the discomfort, and I was just frustrated because it didn't go away. Ethan freaked out because Mommy was crying. It made me stop because he shouldn't, at 2 years old, be worried about me like that. I'm the Mommy, he's my baby. I'm not going to have my 2-year-old feel responsible to make me happy or feel better. So, yeah, I internalize a lot where I didn't used to, and have had to find different outlets to deal with all of this internalized stress and anxiety. With being pregnant, though, a lot of those outlets have been temporarily unavailable (like running) and it's been becoming increasingly difficult for me to continue to internalize them. All this, because at 17 years old, I was walking down the street carrying all of my worldly possessions in a single bag after a fight with my Dad. It was something I had thought I'd gotten past, but it resurfaced again when I became a parent because I don't want my kids to have the same issues I do. Now, I need to go take a bath because for some reason my feet have swollen and they hurt. Either that, or they're just naturally fat. But my sandals have never felt tight before this, so I'll take water retension for 1000, Alex. |
| Yep. It's broken, so everything is FUBAR. Jason got angry at me because I freaked out about having the ball automatically come back to me to be responsible to find someone to watch Ethan for ALL of my doctors appointments. I have no clue yet what we're going to do if the baby comes because Ethan is supposed to stay with J's Mom and Dad while I'm in the hospital having the baby. And of course, it's up to me to try to figure out the new arrangements. Nevermind the fact that I have a husband who is just as capable as helping. Nevermind the fact that I'm already stressed out because I haven't been sleeping well and now I have this to stress out about on top of all of the normal stresses in my life. J got mad at me because I got a little distressed about this turn of events, and started yelling at me because I was being selfish. Well, pardon the FUCK out of me for being in a little bit of a panic because I have all of these doctors appointments that I go to all by MYSELF anyway, which I've been fine doing because he doesn't want to have to make the time up through having to work late. But I made these appointments way in advance and I'm not going to be able to easily juggle them around at this point and I have a feeling that that's what I'm going to have to do because God FORBID I do anything to inconvenience anyone else, EVER. I have surgery on my fucking ASSHOLE and expected nobody to come to my aid. Twice, even. If I broke my ankle, foot, or any other goddamned bone, I would just have to DEAL with it. And I'm not sorry for feeling a little bit angry and selfish because when I'm sick or whatever, nobody makes any attempt to try to help me. When everybody else is sick, I'm supposed to stop whatever it is I'm doing to accomodate them. I'm tired. I haven't slept more than 5 hours a night for the past however many nights. I'm feeling a little desperate from that, and now that desperation feels hopeless. At this point, I feel like I'll be lucky if I get my husband in the delivery room with me, let alone having him be able to stay in the hospital overnight so that I have some other help than some fucking worthless third shift nurse who gets her nose out of joint because I refuse to take Motrin or sign papers to have my newborn immunized in the hospital. What else am I supposed to do? Yes, I'm sorry she broke her ankle for nonselfish reasons, because I'm sure it sucks for her. She, however, almost benefits from it because she gets to sit at her home on her ass for the next six weeks and not worry about anything because everybody in the family has been trained to cater to her and her needs. Not that I don't love my mother-in-law, because I do. She's watched my son since I went back to work and not charged us a dime for it. For that, I'm appreciative. But I should not be made to feel guilty because I'm mad at the timing because that's what I'm most angry about. Of all of the times to break her fucking ankle, why couldn't she have waited? I know it could be worse, but right now every little thing is like the end of the world to me. I'm hormonal. I'm tired. And now, I'm really stressed out. |
| To add even more loveability and fun to my chipper personality, Jason's Mom just called from the ER because she thinks she broke her ankle by tripping/kicking her dog's footstool next to her bed. It adds another nail in the coffin to my current disdain of dogs, even though I don't mind most of J's Mom's dogs. I really hope her ankle isn't broken for selfish reasons, which is horrible, but goddamnit, it will fuck up the game plan for the next 12 weeks if it is broken. Maybe we'll get lucky and it's just sprained or she's just a clutz and bruised it. I'm such a horrible person. My MIL calls from the ER because she did something to her ankle, and I'm hoping there's nothing to worry about so it doesn't make my life any more difficult. |
| Ethan peed through is diaper last night, so even though I was sleeping soooooooooo soundly, I got woken up and had to help Jason take care of that. E was incredibly upset about peeing through his diaper, to the point where he kept saying, "I don't want the diaper." He wanted to wear the overnight training pants, but those are even worse for leak control. He had two really, really nasty diapers this morning, to boot. Just looking at it almost made me vomit, but I held on like a trooper, used my shirt like a bandit and tried to not look at it as much as possible. Both times, I had to do it, and I did it. It's not like I can call someone to come change a poopy diaper, although that would be great. I hurt really bad today. Ethan slept in bed with us for a little bit, and he always snuggles right up to me. Normally, I'm all about snuggling and everything, but I am so not interested - at all. I have to have my room to spread out and when he leans up against me or lays on me it makes me overly hot and limits my ability to spread. I've been trying to just deal with it because he doesn't understand that Mommy is incredibly uncomfortable and I don't want him to develop some kind of complex because I won't cuddle and snuggle like he's used to. This afternoon, though, I was a little grumpy so I just kept getting up and moving from the chair to the couch, the couch to the chair, and he would follow me. Finally, I said, "Ethan, Mommy doesn't feel well. Please stop leaning on me," and it sort off worked. He just put his feet on me instead of all of his weight. lol. I was fine with that, although I'm starting to get an aversion to his feet like I do to everyone elses. I'm tired, but I decided to try not to take a nap today, in hopes that I'll be able to sleep through the night - or as much as possible with having to get up and go pee every hour or so. At least, I'm hoping that maybe I won't have such a hard time getting back to sleep. If not, I'll just nap tomorrow. There's always tomorrow to sleep, right. I keep telling myself that to keep going and prevent myself from losing my head. I'm getting crabbier with each day that passes, but I've done a pretty good job keeping that crabbiness in check. Well, for the most part, anyway. I did end up losing it on the dog because he was out laying in the dirt again. Jason just gave him a bath and put the flea treatment on him last night, and he keeps going outside and laying in the dirt and collecting sand fleas, which aren't affected by the K9 Advantix or Front Line Plus. I refuse to let him come into the living room now because I don't want a sand flea jumping on me and biting me. Plus his underside is all dirty now. I am just not a dog person, especially where Storm is concerned. He's the most irritating ass dog on the face of the earth, I swear. He's always got something wrong with him. A few years ago, he had a fatty tumor on his back that we had to have surgically removed and paid $200 to have analyzed to make sure it wasn't cancerous (it wasn't). He needs his teeth cleaned like every 6 months because he has such a foul mouth. He's constantly got yeast infections in his ears, so we have to keep stock in the medicine for that. Then this year we had to have a tag removed from his leg that was starting to become a problem. Now, he's starting to get a tumor on his face. I told Jason that I'm done paying for this dog to have surgery. We've spent too much money on him - $150 every 6 months for the teeth cleaning, plus all his vet bills, plus his medicines for his foul ears and mouth, plus special food because his stomach is so touchy, plus the $300 for the tumor removal and testing, plus another $150 for the tag on his leg. If he has a tumor grow on his face, that's tough. I don't spend on my kids what I spend on this dog in health care. That thing can grow to the size of my fist for all I care right now, especially since he's been bringing sand fleas into my house and laying in the dirt like a mongrel. Did I mention that I'm tired and crabby? Because I am. |
| I just cleaned enough clothes out of my closet and dresser to clothe two pregnant women and three non-pregnant women. Why am I such a damned clothes horse? If you think my closet is bad, though, Jason's is ten times worse. I refuse to clean his closet for him, although if it comes down to it, if I haven't seen him wear it in the past four months, I will go through it and remove it. I'm sick of not having enough space for shit. I also went through my scrapbooking paper and got rid of twice as much as I kept. I have a whole laundry basket of other stuff to get rid of, and still have 2 bookshelves to go through. After I get done with that, I hope to get to Ethan's toys. The kid could open his own toy store it's so ridiculous. He doesn't play with all of them! They call this nesting. I call it getting my shit together so I don't have to do it later. |
| Sleeping on my back. Sleeping on my stomach. Sleeping, period. No pooping problems. Wearing anything in my closet that's not maternity clothes. Being able to breathe without feeling like something is crushing my chest. Being able to be in the sun for more than five minutes without feeling like I'm going to vomit. Being able to eat anything without getting heartburn. Eating a big, fat steak. Walking anywhere without getting out of breath in five steps. Tying my own shoes. Seeing my own feet. Giving myself a pedicure. Painting my own toenails. Going down the basement steps. Smelling anything without gagging. Shaving my legs. Seeing my va-jay-jay. Having a belly button again. Not having to pee every fifteen minutes. Not having a bloody nose every morning. Eating onion rings and not vomitting. Standing up without feeling like a bowling ball is about to fall from between my legs. Standing up and sitting down without making the "pressure cooker noise." Not having swollen anything. Wanting to have sex again. Enjoying sex again. Being able to clean without having to take 5-minute breaks every 5 minutes. Having Ethan sit on my lap without having to sit around my belly. Having Ethan meet his baby brother. Having Baby Brother meet Ethan. Getting to meet Baby Brother. Having Jason meet Baby Brother. Calling myself post-natal. Being able to use all of the baby clothes. Going to the Nature Center, the zoo, and all of the fun places and actually being able to have fun. Being able to chase Ethan in the back yard. Cleaning the toilet without gagging. Doing the dishes without gagging. Going Christmas shopping for my two sons. Introducing my sons, Ethan and "Baby Brother." Being able to tell everyone Baby Brother's name, finally! There's so much more that I'm looking forward to, but I figure I'll stop there. |
| Jason let me sleep in this morning. It was sweet bliss. He took Ethan fishing with him and his Dad on a boat. I worried about that, but I knew that Jason wouldn't let Ethan out of his sight and out of an arm's graps. It worked out well, because Ethan had a blast. He thought riding on the boat was so much fun, and that driving the boat was even more fun! We went and spent $500 on stuff for the house today. We bought the new front door, the new screen door, and 18 boxes of ceramic tile, along with the grout and paint to finish the boys' room and the front room. I also picked out a color for the kitchen, I think, so after we get the wallpaper ripped off, I'll test it and see if I really like it. The color's called "mocha" so I guess you can imagine what color it is. But with the pinkish hue of the cabinet stain and the pinkish colors in the countertop, the brown will really be the best so that we don't have to paint the cabinetry. I still have to pick out hardware for the doors. I want something simple, nothing that is going to stick out like a sore thumb. I haven't decided on a color or anything. I think I'm just going to wait to see how the new floor and walls look before I figure out what to do for the hardware. I might also buy a new light for in there, too. I've been on a cranberry spritzer kick, lately. We went out to eat the other night at a place that has a bar and I asked for one. "We don't sell wine or champagne here, sorry," was the answer that I got.  "Uhm... a cranberry spritzer is cranberry juice and tonic water with ice." "Oh. I was wondering why a pregnant woman would want alcohol." Is it that rare of a thing to ask for that regular people don't know that a spritzer is whatever the first thing is, plus tonic water? White wine spritzer = white wine + tonic water. Grape spritzer = grape juice + tonic water. It really isn't rocket science. Alright. Enough boring babble. I'm off to get the rest of my scrapbook stuff sorted so I can get the room cleared out so that Jason can get to work on it. I was still up at 4 am again, this morning, by the way. I got up to go pee, laid back down, and couldn't get back to sleep until almost 6 because of the heartburn. It just won't let up, no matter what I do. It's really getting annoying. |
| Going to the mall, all by yourself with a 2-year-old and no stroller, to take a check to Sears and have a Build-A-Bear fixed, then making a stop in the middle to get pretzels and a lemonade, is like running the Boston Marathon when 9 months pregnant. I'm simply exhausted. I never realized how much work it was to keep a 2-year-old in check with the hand-holding and not running amock. It makes me appreciate that J usually goes with us, and makes me realize just now necessary his help is to go on outings anymore. I know I don't know what real exhaustion is like, yet. That's a few weeks off, still. But I'm sure getting some good test runs these days. At least I know I can handle being tired at this level. Only one more level left before real tired kicks in. At least his giraffe is fixed, though. He was kind of leery about letting the lady stick his beloved "Gary" in the back with a needle to sew him up. But he was brave and did a good job remaining calm. Now he's excited because he gets to sleep with "Gary" or "Giraffe" (it depends on his mood what he calls him) during his nap. Speaking of which, I think we're both about due. |
| I can't breathe laying on this side. Roll over. Lay for a few minutes. Nope. Can't breathe on this side, either. Roll over. Lay for a few minutes. Still can't breathe. Maybe I should try standing on my head, sticking out my tongue, and crossing my eyes. That ought to confuse the baby enough to get him off my lungs. Oops, I forgot that he can't see me, so that'll do no good. Roll over. Lay for a few minutes. Shift from leaning forward to leaning backwards. Steal one of Jason's pillows to support my lower back. Lay for a few more minutes. Have Jason steal his pillow back. Bastard. Braxton-Hicks contraction. Oooh... that one was pretty hard. Better make note of the time. 4:17 am. God, can I go back to sleep, please? All I need is for this baby to move off my lungs a little. My God. I just want to go to sleep. Roll over. Lay for a few minutes. Breathing status doesn't change. On my hands and knees for a few minutes. Head on pillow. Ass in the air. If only Jason were awake to see this, he'd think I'm trying to coax him into sex. Giggle to self. Jason stirs. Back onto my side I go before he can see my precarious position. Thank God, he's moved. I can breathe again. Uh oh... another Braxton-Hicks contraction. Note time: 4:35 am. Two in an hour. I better drink some water in case I'm dehydrated. Get up, go to fridge for some cold water. Baby rolls back up and onto my lungs. Lay back down in bed. Can't breathe. Onto my hands and knees again. Thank heavens, he moved again. Lay back down. Ugh. Another Braxton-Hicks. Time: 4:48 am. That's three. One more in the next half hour and I have to call someone. But I'm so tired... I think I'll just finally go back to sleep. This baby isn't coming tonight, anyway. He's too interested in kicking my diaphragm to care about being born. Finally. Sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep. |
| We finally got the checks about 6 pm tonight and I had to throw a shit fit in order to get them. Thankfully, I had decided to take the nap and waited for Jason to make the call to the title agency when he got home from work. The finance department at Arbor Mortgage apparently couldn't get ahold of anyone in KPS to verify my employment but didn't feel it an important detail to include us, as the buyers, in on. J called the title company and they said that the lender was waiting to verify employment. I called Arbor Mortgage to try to talk to our broker. He was on vacation. I asked to speak to someone else who would be able to help us. That guy was on vacation, too. Alright. I want to talk to someone and I don't care who they are as long as they can help. That guy is out of the office for the rest of the day, sorry. My attitude was pretty much "FUCK THAT!" I'm not about to wait around for someone else who is preventing me from getting MY money and paying MY bills. I called the title company back and basically said, "I want this fixed. I don't care who fixes it. Just get it fixed or tell me who can fix it." They gave me the name of another person at Arbor to talk to. I called her, asked what the holdup was, and she said that she couldn't get ahold of anyone to reverify my employment. Well, duh! It's a school district and summer break and 4th of July weekend to boot, along with a non-payroll week, you idiots. You can leave a voice mail with 20 people and not get a call back until next week sometime, and you can best believe I'm not going to sit on my thumb waiting for you to get the call back! I asked her if my boss could verify my employment. She said as long as it was someone else employed by KPS, they could verify. I gave her my boss's cell phone number, asked her to wait 5 minutes so I could call my boss and let her know what's going on, and called my boss immediately after we got off the phone. A short and sweet half-hour later, and the checks were cut. Good Lord, if only these people had called us hours ago, it could've already been taken care of! But, at least it's taken care of now. I called the credit card companies to try to work out a deal with them where the additional charges accrued on the account would be dismissed with one massive payment. They both seemed willing to work with us, but want the money first. That's fine with me, since I can't do anything with that money, anyway, since it's in a check made out to the individual lenders. An additional $1,000 later, and all of our bills for this month are paid, along with my 2 hospital bills and my Capital One account paid off. That leaves us with another $1000 to buy the door and the flooring for the kitchen and dining room, along with another $500 from Jason's paycheck this week. I'm going to set aside $400 of it to go to August's house payment and the rest to live on until Friday. We'll be getting another $2400 from our current mortgage company by August 15, so we'll be able to finish the rest of the work on the house then. I doubt it, since we'll be new parents by then, but there's no way in hell we'd be able to get all that stuff done by the time he comes anyway. |
I have a newfound hatred for the fourth. It's an evil holiday, meant to make small children terrified to the point where they end up sleeping in Mommy and Daddy's bed all night because of all of the bangs from inconsiderate neighbors lighting off illegal fireworks until all hours of the night with no regard for the fact that other people live on the same block and may have to go to work in the morning. Ethan is terrified of thunder, and that's what he equated the fireworks to. He screamed in terror at about midnight because the people down the road decided that, the rest of us be damned, they were going to light off bottle rockets and other things that go bang and boom in the night. Not only was it rude, but it was really annoying. After trying to get him to sleep in his own bed for about 45 minutes, Jason ended up bringing him back to bed with us, otherwise none of us would've gotten any sleep. I woke up this morning incredibly sore because I had a toddler clinging to me for dear life from about 12:30 am until 7:30 am this morning. It was really sweet because he always had to have a hand touching me at all times, but it was also aggravating because I have a hard enough time sleeping right now without the neighborhood contributing to my sleeplessness. If I'd had enough energy, I'd have gotten up and called the cops. I don't care who you are or where you live, it is not neighborly to keep the rest of us up while you selfishly set off dangerous fireworks during the middle of a drought. Now I'm exhausted, but I'm waiting for the title company to call and let me know when our money is there so I can go get it. They still haven't called, yet. I think I might go call them because I'd really like to take a nap. Maybe I'll take a 1/2 hour nap, first... I sure deserve it! |
| Yes, it's the 4th. A day which we're supposed to spend on reflection of what our forefathers sacrificed for us and giving thanks to God's willingness and gift of another year that he's allowed us to be a super-power. We light off fireworks and have barbecues on any normal year, but this year, we don't really feel like it. My Grandfather's family had their first ever family reunion, so we did make an appearance for that, but we've spent the whole day at home doing nothing. I got kind of angry at the whole family reunion thing because everybody always has to make everything for "around 2" which is right during Ethan's nap time, so we can never stay very long because my child is a bear when he hasn't had his nap. And then they insisted we all wear these different colored shirts. My Grandpa's shirt color was this hideous yellow. I didn't really feel like wearing it. I put it on Ethan even though it hadn't been washed and unwashed clothes usually irritate his excema because my Grandpa kept bitching about us not wearing it. I also finally gave in and put my shirt on over my maternity tank. My sisters were there and so were my cousins. My Uncle Dan even brought his kids in from Detroit. So I was glad to go just for that. But, my God, I wish my sisters would take better care of themselves. They both looked like crap and neither one of them are anything short of obese. I feel like I don't even belong in my family, like a black sheep because I a) don't do drugs, b) take care of myself, c) attempt to look presentable before I leave my house, and d) actually seem to care about all of these things. I know I've changed a lot in the past 7 years or so, but I've always cared about how I looked. I'm not going to leave my house looking like a freak of nature. I've never been happy with feeling or looking frumpy. That's how both of them are, and it's completely shallow of me, but if we had been anywhere else, I wouldn't have sat near them, let alone admitted they were my family. Speaking of shallow, I had to ask my midwife at my appointment yesterday if it was safe to dye my hair. The asking her was on Jason's insistance, since he was worried the fumes could hurt the baby or something. I tried to assure him that the amount of chemicals it would require for anything to happen to the baby would have to be multiplied by one hundred, but he still insisted that I ask her. So, I did, and I dyed my hair dark brown with just a slight reddish highlight to it. My grays are gone for the time being and I feel less frumpy and more comfortable making it through the next few weeks. J wanted me to wait until the baby's born, still, but it takes a good hour to prepare everything and dye your hair, and I know I won't have the time to do it for at least a month after Baby Brother comes. I'll be too busy breast feeding and changing diapers to worry about my hair color! Hopefully, my hair will hold this dye. For the past year or so, it dumps the dye after a week or so because of the highlighting I had done a couple of years back. Just the ends dump the dye, but it looks kind of funny to have dark roots all the way down to the last 1/2 inch, which is a light brown. Anyway, I've just been on a makeup wearing-hairdoing kick, and it irritates me that my sisters, who don't even have kids, let alone a JOB, can't take fifteen minutes to even do something to their hair. I'm so shallow, but I can't help it where they're concerned. They're family. I'm always overly expectant and hard on my family. |
| In trying to play basketball with Ethan this morning, he had a meltdown because I would not get down on the floor and play with him. It's not that I didn't want to, it's that I knew I wouldn't be able to get back up if I did. "Mommy, floor!" He kept saying. "Mommy can't get on the floor. Mommy will stay right here and play." "No, Mommy! Floor!" He demanded. I diverted his attention with a book for about five minutes and he began insisting on my playing on the floor again. I ended up giving in and putting in a DVD because I can't keep up with his super-two-year-old energy. It's only 11 am and I'm already exhausted from trying to entertain him! Baby Brother has had the hiccups for all bu an hour since 6:30 this morning. I think he's starting to get irritated about them because he keeps kicking my rib with every hiccup. I know I hate having the hiccups, so I can't help but commiserate with him. Not to mention that I feel every single one almost as if they're my own. My house looks like a tornado ripped through the living room. Or maybe hurricane Ethan. There's Matchbox cars everywhere. Hopefully, I'll be able to get him to help me pick up before J's Mom gets here in the next half hour to fourty-five minutes. Of course, I can't get much cleaning done if I don't get off the damned computer. And Deelyte- Chillin' , stop playing hookie from work! lol |
| Just a few more hours left of work, and then I am done until October. I really don't feel like going in there today, but I have to tie things up with my boss then go to the KGM to read to the kids and then show them how to make a paper bag scrapbook so they can make their own story similar to the one we're reading them. It's just harder and harder as each day passes to get to my office. I have to walk a city block from the parking lot to the door, then up the stair to my office, which wouldn't be that bad except my sciatic has been pinched for almost a week now and going up the stairs is like grinding salt in a wound. There aren't any working elevators right now because they're replacing both of them. To make matters even worse, the bathrooms on my side of the building have been completely ripped out to be remodelled. The next nearest bathrooms are either downstairs in the facilities office or around the building on the other side. I choose to walk the full city block that the building expands to stay on the same floor. Whenever I go to the bathroom, I loudly announce, "I'm taking a walk around the block to go pee!" lol By the time I get back, the elevators should be finished and the bathroom should be restored on my side of the building. One can hope, at least. Not like it will matter as much. I won't have a 20-pound bowling ball strapped to my hips and having to go pee won't be as much of an emergency as it has been lately. Either way, today is it, I hope. I might have to come in one more time before the end of the month to run a few Access reports for her, unless I can get her to tell me what she needs today. Alright. I better get my little guy ready to go to his Grandma's. Tomorrow is my 34-week appointment, although Thursday I'll be 35 weeks. Only 2 - 5 weeks left and then I'm done being pregnant and on to NewMommyville. I'd say I can hardly wait, but part of me is terrified and doesn't want it to come. |
| I forgot to mention that when I went to buy a new dress for Lindsey's wedding, I also decided to purchase some nursing bras so I'd be prepared for the new baby. Since I'm already bigger than I was when Ethan was born and my milk came in, I got measured. Right now, I measure a 38-D+ (not quite a DD, but bigger than a standard D). They recommend that you go up a cup size from pre-delivery, and they don't sell the double sizes, so I had to buy a 36 E! My boobies are going to need their own zip code pretty soon. I sure hope that my back stays strong and that after I'm done breast feeding, they go down, because I really don't want to have breast reduction surgery if I don't have to. |
Universal memory card reader/writer at Office Depot: $24.99 CardRecovery memory card recovery software found on the Internet: $34.99 Recovering all but 4 photos of your friend's wedding (including some shown below): Priceless -or- Being able to save any CF failures in the future: Priceless Thank God the software I found via cNet actually worked like it said it would. It actually worked even better than I expected for its price because it "recovered" about 20 additional images that I had deleted off the card almost a year ago. Some of my favorites (She made a gorgeous bride, even with the "satin" cast.  ):    I -had- to do something to fix this because Lindsey's grandpa and uncle were giving me a hard time about using digital. "Oh, film is 10 times better than digital anyday! It just looks better!" (Which is a lie. They're the same quality if you have a good enough camera. I can print up to 16x20 with an uncropped image from my camera without a problem and I don't know anyone who would want anything bigger than that anyway. Not a normal person, anyway. It's not like I'm trying to make billboards or something.) I mean, if you look at it, there's one thing that can go wrong with digital that can't with film: the card can corrupt. But, with film, there's sooooo many things that can go wrong that aren't always within your control: You can use the wrong film/speed/f-stop/shutter settings. You can accidentally expose the film to light and ruin it. When it's developed, the developer can overexpose/underexpose the film and it CAN'T be fixed without some kind of DIGITAL editing, and sometimes even then it can't be fixed. If the film gets too hot, it can ruin it. None of these problems can be easily fixed, if they can be fixed at all. Yes, I feel safer with my digital camera, even though my CF card freaked out, because in a year that is the first and, so far, the only time that's happened, and I was able to recover all of the photos but 4, which is way more than I expected. So they can take their digital blah-blah-blah, old-school talk and KISS MY ASS. I've just proven why it's so much better. Had that been film that got ruined, I'd have been up a shit creek without a paddle.  |
| I took over 200 photos of my friend's wedding as part of her wedding gift. I get home, try to load the card, and get an error reading the card. Generally, I would just see if the card went bad by formatting it and whatnot, but I have over 200 photos that I don't want to erase by formatting the card. So now, I'm going to have to go to one of the local computer stores and see if they can salvage some of the photos off the card. Who knows how much that will cost, but I don't want to disappoint her by having the only photographic memories of her big day being completely gone. I've tried reading the card through a drive that plugs in to my laptop and I can't even access it that way. I just don't know what to do.  I really hope that they're not ruined. The damned thing worked fine one photo and then it didn't. I've never had this happen before with this camera or this card. Of all of the times for it to crash out, having it do it after something important like this is the worst timing.  I'm incredibly upset right now. I even tried listening to the llama song to cheer me up, and that didn't work. I have to get this fixed and it irks me that there isn't anyplace open that I can call right now. Blah. I hate having to be patient in times like this. |
| This is so old, but everytime I happen to think about it, it gets stuck in my head until I go out and listen to it, and then it makes me happy. I like being happy, and I like sharing happiness. May the llamas make you happy, too. http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/llama.php I'm on my way to my friend's wedding. You know, the one who broke her hand last week. Llama, llama, llama, llama, llama, llama, duck. |
Wow. I was reading Jenn  's journal today and she was analyzing all of us. Yes, Alyndria, I read your journal, although I don't know if you know I do. I don't even know if you read mine, although I think you did my old one, but I don't know if you moved on with the crowd or never made it this way. Anyhow, I thought I'd like to know who's reading and, of those who are reading, which ones I know about.First of all, 10 of you have read me today so far. My average reader is a married female, age 25-39, with Some College education. 88.9% of you are female, 11.1% of you are male. That means, out of the 54 unique members who have looked at this blog (not saying that you all read religiously, that's just how many people have been here), 48 are female and 6 are male. 26 of you are age 25-39. 13 of you are age 18-24. 12 of you are age 40-49. 2 of you are age 50-59. 1 of you is age 60-64. The only one I know who's been in my blog that's 60-64 isn't a religious reader, at least I don't think so, because I cuss too much. lol. 30 of you are married. 11 of you are single. 7 of you are involved. 5 of you are divorced. 1 of you is other. (There always has to be 1, doesn't there? hehehe) 25 of you have had some college. 14 of you have a college degree. 7 of you have a grad school degree. 4 of you completed high school only. 3 of you completed grad school. 1 of you completed some high school. Again, like Alyndria, income is boring and variable. I don't think what I've specified and what I actually make are even the same anymore and I'm too lazy to change it. 17 of you are avid writers. 15 are casual writers. 9 are published authors. 7 are avid readers. 2 are none of the above. 1 is an unknown. 1 is a print journalist. 1 is a casual reader. Most of your visits to me have been through your favorites, which I think is pretty cool.  I like being on a person's favorite list. It means they think I'm worthwhile and we all like to feel that way at one time or another.I did go one step further, though, in checking out my daily stats to see how many daily visits I have gotten to determine how many of the 54 who have visited actually visit on a semi-regular basis. 6/22 (2-entry day): 55 visits 6/23 (2-entry day): 17 visits 6/24 (1-entry day): 22 visits 6/25 (1-entry day): 26 visits 6/26 (0-entry day): 6 visits 6/27 (2-entry day): 27 visits 6/28 (2-entry day): 33 visits That tells me that I have around 22 people who visit me when I have something to say. I get an average of 1 - 4 comments on an entry, if I get comments. ( ) That leaves me with one question to ask...Who the hell are all of you voyeurs?!?! |
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