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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 came home on Thursday at the tail end of Grey's Anatomy. Jason tried to talk me into going to bed because he knew that I wouldn't "get" the ending because I hadn't watched the previous hour and fourty-five minutes and it was like coming into a conversation, where a joke was being told, at the punchline. He started watching Grey's with me because he somehow got pulled into it in Season 3 with the finale episode. You know, the guy with the bomb in his chest and the pink mist and all that. I do have to say that this season's finale was nowhere as good as the pink mist finale and I really was disappointed yesterday after I finally got to sit down and watch it. Not "weird sex stuff," I know, but I have kids and so there's not much sex, let alone weird sex stuff. I almost wanted to have sex last night, but Jason obviously didn't. I laid in the bed on my back and he didn't even try to cop a feel on my boobs and so I rolled over and went to sleep. lol. He lost his five-second window of chance and that's his fault. Of anything lately, I'd rather be sleeping. I have yet to figure out why I'm so tired. I obviously don't clean and I don't do anything in general that would cause me to be tired (according to Jason), so I shouldn't be tired and I should be willing to have sex two or three times a day if you listen to him talk. It's alright, though. We watch a lot of after-8-pm tv together. Our good friends, Joe and Shelli, never understood our 8 pm curfew until just a week or so ago, when they had their first baby. Now they totally get it, and the whole tv thing. I wouldn't put it past them to watch weird sex stuff, either. They're that kind of people. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Jason and I would be that kind of people, too, if we didn't have kids and my mother-in-law at our house most of the day. We worry about her finding stuff, so we don't keep it around. It may have turned me into a prude. Stay tuned to find out if that's really true. |
| Variety is the spice of life. Sometimes, anyway. Lately, it doesn't feel like it. I dispise that I have to leave the house. I dispise that someone else raises my kids 40+ hours a week. But when I'm home for any long period of time, I dispise that I'm stuck there with two kids. I crave adult interaction but I don't have time for it unless I'm being paid. ... I'm looking forward to summer break after the 16th, but I'm dreading it all the same. I'm going to have to do my own laundry, clean my own kitchen, take care of my own kids. What if I've forgotten how to be a mother with all of the work I've been doing and time I've volunteered in the past couple of months? It isn't good enough for me to just jump right back into it. I have to have a plan. I crave variety, and yet fight it. ... I get restless. Then I involve myself in so much stuff that I can't keep up. I don't know moderation. Everything is always one extreme or another. Hopefully I'll figure it out one day. |
| Cameron's been walking for almost two weeks now. He turns ten months old on Friday. He walks with this cute toddle caused by his fat feet. He started off just taking a few steps at a time. Now he's able to journey across the room before he plops on his butt on the floor. When Ethan first started walking, it was a huge deal. I announced it to the ceilings. Cameron, though, not so much. I've been too busy to detail my life's events and he's got to his disadvantage the fact that Ethan's already done his firsts long before and we spent our excitement on that. At least that's what it seems like sometimes. It does amaze me how fast he's growing up and doing things. He's learning words everyday, too. He can say, "Hi," "buhbye," "mama," "dada," "baba," and "gamma." He waves his hand when you come into a room or just before you leave. He has curly hair, fat feet, and a general round-baby thing going for him. He reminds me so much of my uncle Steve in the way he smiles, his sense of humor, and how calm he is most of the time. And yet, I rarely talk about the new things he's doing or how many teeth he has or what new word he's saying or that his favorite food right now is strawberry-banana Yo-Baby with cereal. I neglect to talk about how proud I am that he's doing so well or how much I love that he's still a Momma's Boy. And then there's Ethan, who is smarter than I ever thought he could be. He's our little tape recorder. Anything you say to him, he repeats back to you. His vocabulary is astounding. The way he words things is hilarious. "What are you doing?" I asked him a few moments ago. "I'm just watching tv and eating an apple," he responded. He's just doing anything. Yesterday he was just playing in the sandbox and just eating a hot dog and just playing with his Speed Racer cars. Friday, when I came home from work, he was just playing monster trucks on the chair. I went to put him to bed the other night. "Come on," I said, "let's go read a book." "No. I can't like you, Mommy. I want Daddy." I know it's a phase, but it crushes my heart every single time he tells me he doesn't want me and wants Daddy to do everything for him. But then, those moments when he won't be quiet (which are often), it makes me feel happy that I'm not the one who reads him his bedtime stories because it's the only time I get peace and quiet is when he's sleeping. lol. |
| One wouldn't know it by the past few entries, but I'm a giver of warm fuzzies at work. My job is to make people comfortable with technology at the school. My job is to fix their problems and make them feel good about having said problem because I'm there to fix it for them. My job is to hold hands and I don't mind it. StudentPlus was down for two days a couple of weeks ago. I sent out an email that basically said it was down and I would let them know when it was back. Ms. Appledoorn caught me in the office and told me how wonderful my emails were because you just felt good after you got done reading them, even though I just told them they couldn't do their jobs for the rest of the day. lol. The district is upgrading the support staff and administration PCs in our building on Tuesday. Administration and support staff have known that they're coming for the past week or so because I had to help them move their files off the C: drive and onto the H: drive. They were all freaked out because I made them delete the stuff off the C: drive so they would only be able to use them off their H: drive. One school secretary spazzed. She hates change, and I know this ahead of time. She called me 7,000 times to her desk to help her find files, open documents from the right location, and to just vent in general about wishing she didn't have to move all of her stuff because she just *knew* she was going to lose something. Little did she know that I never emptied her recycle bin, so even if she had deleted something she needed, I could retrieve it without a problem. But, after a few days of my hand holding, she felt better and is now excited about getting a newer, faster, prettier computer. The whole reason that I can calm and sooth and hold hands and have people feel good after I leave is because, somehow, I have developed a habit of smiling while I teach. I navigate as they drive and stay calm even when they are so frustrated they could throw their monitor out the window. Friday, when I wasn't in the mood to do anything other than bury my head in the sand and avoid people because I hurt and didn't have the energy to be patient, I called downtown because Mark told me that I wasn't getting a new computer. I called to find out the specific and I really didn't care either way because I like my computer just fine and there isn't anything wrong with it, other than the DVD burner isn't working. I wasn't smiling when I asked. Barb thought I sounded a bit bitchy. When I realized that my tone was sharp, I smiled. It eased the conversation right then. Even on the phone, the other person can hear your smile through your tone. It sounds far-fetched, but its true. In my helpdesk days, I can recall many times where a frustrated person was soothed by the smile in my voice. The next time someone yells at you, smile back at them. They'll either think you're a fool or they'll calm down and smile back. The entire coversation will change from that point on. |
| Hmmm... I like to do it, too. I mean fuck. I just don't like being pregnant so I use birth control. Lots of it. In the form of an IUD. The endometriosis also helped that whole birth control thing, as depo lupron pretty much kills any chances of the Merena failing. I do have baby fever, though. I want another baby so, so bad. But I know it's the whole mother instinct and I'm not letting it fool my brain. I've known since Cameron was born that I want another baby, but I also know that I don't want two in diapers at the same time ever, ever again. A lot of people tell me that it's better for the kids to have them close together, but I disagree. It's only better for the kids if the parents can handle it. And I'm not a parent who can handle it. I enjoy my "me" time way too much to have two kids who need diapers changed, need me to feed them every three-to-four hours, need my attention every moment of the day. I already do it, and I hate it. I'd rather have the one baby and the rest in school. Five years separating the youngest from the next oldest. I learned that the hard way. I don't know how someone could have five kids, but I guess if you like that kind of thing, then you really like that kind of thing, otherwise you wouldn't be doing it. I know I really like to do that practicing part, but I have a hard time finding time with two of them. I can't imagine what it would be like if I have four. That's almost goddess-like to me, that a woman can have four kids and find time to have sex and get impregnated. Not that I'm being judgemental, because I'm not. My grandfather is part of a baker's dozen, and my husband's father is one of ten. I'm used to big families. I love big families. I'm just not into being pregnant for much of my adult life. It just isn't my bag. But that's just me. And I think Jason is glad for that because he doesn't want anymore kids, even though I want one more. He doesn't have to worry, though, since I can't have a kid right now anyway. The endometriosis has made sure of that. |
| I have a thing about sticking my finger into random holes. Ahem... Not really. I'm just in a very sarcastic mood today. I'm even cussing. It's not pretty. Really, though. I'm a picker. I pick at things; scabs, peeling paint, those metal clips that pen companies put on pens to clip them to things, my cuticles, things that are irritating to my husband because I know they irritate them... On the days when I'm at my worst, it would seem understandable that Anthony would get so angry at me that he would hit me. I mean, when I get in moods like I'm in today, I pick at and poke at and make every snide and irritating comment I can. Not because I'm trying to pick a fight, but because it, oddly, makes me feel better. What's even more strange is that, on those days, Anthony would usually avoid me as much as possible because I think he knew if he hit me, I would hit him back times ten. Not only physically, but mentally. Jason just comes right back at me after a while. He'll put up with my smart alec comments for a little while, and then he eventually grows a set of balls and tells me where to put my rude, snide, irritating comments. Then he'll usually make me a bubble bath or something because he knows that I get this way when I'm really stressed out and it helps me calm down and I become the sweet, calm woman that I've become since I had kids. He's supposed to go fishing tomorrow morning. I don't want him to go. I have to go buy a birthday present for Noah and we have a birthday party at 4, so I won't have time if he goes. I know I won't because, even though he says he'll be back by noon, he won't be home until 2. I know it, so I'm sticking every comment and remark in that lets him know I don't want him to go. In about half an hour, he's going to tell me that he's still going and to deal with it. Then I'll call his Mom and ask her to come babysit so I can go shopping. And it'll all work out. But until then, I want to be snide and pissy. I don't know why. It just feels right today and that's all the reason I need. |
| Is it fitting that the last day of the contest we finally get both entries? I was waiting for the reminder post, but I have the time right now and I'm not going to let that pass by because who knows when I'll have it again today. So without further adeiu, here I go. I did have something completely different written out until just now. Because I got interrupted and my train of thought changed tracks. Because I can never, ever do anything in this house that is less important than whatever my husband or children are doing right at that very moment. Because everything that I do and everything that I am is always second in line to whatever they are doing or need to do or need to be. It's irritating and, although I didn't want to rant for my leading entry, I can't help myself because I am so utterly annoyed and agitated that if I don't vent it out, I may very well explode on someone. See... today Jason is putting up the swimming pool. Which is great. I want him to put up the swimming pool. And Richelle had her baby last week and I offered them the bassinet because it's also a co-sleeper and as a mother who was doing very well with breast feeding until about the two-week mark, I know how important it is to feel like the baby is sleeping somewhere safe without having to go three rooms away every couple of hours to feed him. And today she asked if she could come look at the cosleeper and also pick up my breast pump. I said, "Sure, just give me fair warning so I can have the stuff ready for you." And she said, "We'll be there in about half an hour." Well, me, thinking that everything should be in logical places, went to get the stuff out and found out a couple of things. 1) Never expect my husband to put something someplace logical because it will never be there. 2) Never rely on my husband to help me look for the stuff that he put away and I can't find because it isn't someplace logical. 3) I should have been the one to put the stuff away so that I could find it later because I would have put it someplace logical. I went to get the stuff for the bassinet/cosleeper together. It has a strap that goes between the matress and the box spring to keep it from being pulled away from the bed and creating a gap that the baby could roll into. The logical place I would think to store it would be: a) under the bassinet/cosleeper in the little storage basket, or b) in the pocket on the end of the bassinet/cosleeper with the remote (that I, by the way, put away). It is in neither of these places because my husband probably put it someplace logical, to him, like the floor of the linen closet in the bathroom or in one of the closets in the house. I asked him where it was and, of course, he can't remember and will "look for it later." So, I go about getting the pump out and ready, since it's useless to argue with him about finding it. I get it out of his closet (which made no sense to me, but whatever, at least I could find it) and start to inspect the parts that go with it. It's missing the shields and the valve pieces. So I go about searching the house for those because, again, he can't remember what he did with them. Logically, it would make much more sense to store them with the breast pump. But again, this is my husband we're talking about and logic apparently goes out the window when it comes to storing things. I ask him where the pieces could be. He tells me places that I've already looked and then gets mad at me because I'm interrupting his task of putting up the swimming pool. Nevermind the fact that if he had put the damn things someplace that made sense in the first place, I wouldn't have had to interrupt him and his pool-putting-togetherness. But, I digress. He comes inside after I yell at him for a good ten minutes about the fact that he fails to think when he puts things away and just puts them wherever he thinks is a good place at the time without making note in his head as to where that place is so, in the future, when we're looking for them, and they're not someplace logical, like with the rest of the pieces that make the whole, he will remember. Guess where they were? On the floor of the linen closet! Because that makes so much sense! He then proceeds to yell at me about not checking all logical places that he would store things for another five minutes. Meanwhile, his Dad is standing outside waiting to go get sand to put underneath the swimming pool because, while we were arguing, he finished leveling the ground. He probably thinks that I'm a royal bitch because all I did was tell Jason that he was a pain in the ass and that he was a slob and he obviously had no sense of organization or else the shields and valves for the breast pump would have been with the breast pump instead of on the floor with in the linen closet. Then he proceeds to tell me that if I did anything around the house, he wouldn't put things where ever they fit at the time because the house would be cleaner. I shut down about then, because it was not an argument I wanted to get into. Because nobody ever wins that argument and it doesn't ever solve any problems and feelings get hurt and it makes me want to divorce him and probably him want to divorce me. All I know is that my house doesn't make sense because I'm not in control of where people put things. Nine hours a day, my mother-in-law is moving my kitchen around the way she thinks it should go, even though the way she put things makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. She puts knives in the drawer that doesn't lock. She puts the things that you use when you're cooking on the other side of the kitchen from the stove. And then my husband is putting breast pump parts on the floor of the linen closet while the actual pump is on the floor of his closet. And I still don't know where the strap for the bassinet/cosleeper is. I'll probably find it under his dresser or in the shower in the basement or something, because I have to think of the most illogical place for it to be in order to find it. In the meantime, I'm going to quit bitching about it because nothing will ever change because, even if I did have time to reorganize my entire house, it's only me who seems to do things in ways that make sense and I have two children who destroy the living room and two other people who don't seem to think about things the same way that I do when it comes to putting things away. So, I'm just going to give up until the odds aren't stacked against me, which they may always be, and just deal with the fact that things will never make sense to me. So there we go. The problem has been solved. I can shut up now. |
| Turkeys are mean sunsabitches. I live in the city and I know this. Probably because of my backwoods-ass accent that is actually a cross between Michiganese and Kentuck. I never saw a turkey while I lived in Kentucky, though. I see them all of the time in Kalamazoo and Portage, actually. Jason and I were driving to Sam's Club two weeks ago and saw, not one, but six or seven of those bastards standing on the side of the road looking all ugly. It was the first time I'd seen them in this particular area, since they usually tend to stay out of the way of heavy traffic. But there were seven of them standing on the side of the road, glancing at passing traffic in a menacing, turkey sort of way. When I worked out at the National City complex, you had to watch out for them if you went walking on the trails. I would always see them when I left work, wandering around the woods by the driveways. I always thought: "I'm so surprised that someone hasn't hit one of those things." Luckily, they don't tend to hang out over by my house yet. We get more mild-mannered animals like woodchucks, woodpeckers, and deer. There's a family of six-to-eight deer that like to come to our back yard and eat the bark off our trees in the winter. In the summer, they go off into the woods behind our house or something. I consider it a priviledge to live someplace considered an urban area and be able to experience deer in my back yard. Jason says it's God torturing him, since he goes hunting every year and never gets a deer, yet isn't allowed to shoot the ones who come to his back yard and destroy his trees. lol |
| I would love to work a block from home. I hate that I pay over $50 for a tank of fuel. I want a new car, too. One that doesn't run on fossil fuels. I was reading on the congressional inquisitions in regards to the fact that the oil companies are making record profit yet again. One of the execs said something about, if you look at the real money, then they don't make as much as the numbers say. I'm sorry, but does he think we're really that stupid? Is this that fuzzy math that Bush is so well known for? You take what the accountants come up with and divide it be 3. Then you take that number and that's the "real" money? The rest of it is all Monopoly money? Pretty soon it's going to be bad enough that people can't afford to work because it's going to cost more to get there than they make. I live within biking distance from my job, but Cork Street is dangerous. I would surely get hit one morning by some screwball in a hurry to get to work and that would be the end of my bicycling to work. Plus I don't have a bicycle. I can't afford one. I'm spending too much money on fuel for my vehicle. |
| The human brain doesn't stop growing until the age of 25, especially in the areas of impulse control and reasoning. It takes more than just getting older to grow a person up, though. You have to include life experiences, since it helps develop the pathways that connect our firing mechanisms together. To me, if parents think that it's OK for an 18-year-old and a 14-year-old to date, the problem and fault shouldn't lie on the 18 year-old. It should lie on the parents. They are obviously OK with something, then they should be OK with any consequences that come of it. They are the adults, even if they were 14 when they had their 14 year old and only have just developed a full adult brain. Working with a bunch of 11, 12, and 13 year-olds has taught me a lot about parenting. You see kids who are the product of wonderful parenting and kids who have parents that are needing a lot of help in many areas. You see kids whose parents have never taught them how to deal with their emotions and kids who are a bit weird because their parents have hovered over them like glass for their whole lives. It scares me because I wonder how my kids are going to end up. I highly doubt that they're going to have anger management issues or will be weird like the kids I'm talking about. I'm hoping they'll be smart. I'm hoping they'll make friends easily. I'm hoping that they'll be well-rounded. There's one eighth grader who I feel bad for. He's been in the eighth grade twice now. He's probably going to have to repeat again. And he doesn't care. And that's probably because his parents don't care. And he'll end up not graduating from high school because he is going to be too busy wanting to be grown before his time. I just don't know. I worry about all these things. It makes me want to home-school. Then I'll have the weird kid with the bad breath in the sixth grade who is a close talker and scares me. lol. |
| As I was loading and unloading tables into the uHaul last night, I realized that I rarely give myself enough credit. I tend to think that I can never do enough to keep up with the standards that everyone else sets in my eyes. And then I sit here thinking about the things that I do do right. I mean, I kept track of 618 bibs. And the runners attached to them, of course. Almost 200 people registered on Thursday as a community runner. Add that to the more than 400 who had registered before Thursday, and that's a lot of responsibility! And it didn't fall apart! They've already asked me back for next year. I said yes. I already know what I want to do differently. I always feel like I'm not living up to my fullest potential. I always feel like I'm never good enough. I always feel like I need to do more. But, in all of that, I always try to remind myself of the things I am good at because then I lighten up on myself. Don't get me wrong. I'm still a perfectionist. But at least I give myself that much. |
| It took 3 months of planning and 11 committee members to do this: 1900 girls 243 coaches 600+ community runners 1 event Girls on the Run was last night. It was an awesome event. I get to have my life back now, though, until this time next year. Now I can Follow the Leader some and get caught up there. My leading entry is Sunday! Egads! |
| Nope, I don't actually have space dementia, either. It may seem like I've been off in outer space for the past month or so, but in all actuality, I've just been so busy that I'm having a hard time keeping track of myself. So much is going on. I don't have nearly as much time as I do to do the things I need to do, let alone the things I like to do. I don't have space dementia, but I have nerve sensation problem from my surgery. Do you know how much it hurts? I never thought that regenerating nerves could hurt as much as they do for as long as they have. I start massage therapy this week to try to help it because I hate coming home from work in so much pain that I can't even be the Mom that I strive to be. I don't have space dementia. I am actually participating in Follow the Leader. It just took me a bit to get started. |
| Jason and I are celebrating our five year anniversary this year, which doesn't really sound like that long, but those of us who are married know that sometimes, five years can feel like forever, and others it feels like just yesterday. Between being married and being together, our relationship spans a total of seven years, which still doesn't seem like all that much, but I'm only twenty-eight so of my ten adult years, I've been with my husband for all but three. (I'm sure you already did the math, but I had to say it for myself.) In the span that Jason and I have been together:  I've lived in four different states (Kentucky, Indiana, South Carolina, Michigan). I've had six or seven different hair colors. I've gained as much as 75 pounds and lost 60 of it. I've had six different jobs with three different companies. I've gone to three Writing.Com conventions in two different places. I've had surgery twice. I've picked up many new hobbies and talents.Oddly enough, not much has changed for Jason. The only thing that he changes willingly is that every once in a while, he shaves. lol. It keeps me from trying to change too much since I obviously love to change my world. He brings me stability where I don't have it and even sometimes don't want it and fight it with every tooth and nail I have at my disposal. Geeze. I was just thinking that it took me almost six years to just agree to move the living room around. How's that for unwilling to change without good reason? Anyway. I love my husband. I'm glad that we'll be celebrating five years in just a little over a month. Today is one of those days where it feels like just yesterday. |
| I interrupt this regularly scheduled bit of nothingness to offer fellow scrapbookers a chance to win something! Check out my blogger blog for more information: http://missmelissaw.blogspot.com/2008/05/great-eyelet-giveaway.html |
| I'm so stressed out right now about work but I'm not going to talk about it until after I've resolved the situation. I feel incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation and it's really bothering me. We also tried the new Tuscan 6-cheese pizza from Papa John's and it was delicious. David Cook rocked on American Idol. K. I think that's it. |
| My stomach has been so messed up all week. I don't feel good today and I'm bummed about it because it's a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining and we had a bunch of rain last night, so everything is clean. I would love to take Ethan to the Nature Center to go for a spring walk, but I just do not feel like I can do it. The boys let me sleep in this morning, until 8, which is a miracle since I'm normally up with one or the other around 6:30, but I feel like I could go to bed and sleep another 8 or 10 hours. I'm going to an all day crop tomorrow at a local LSS, plus tonight I'm going to my Great Uncle Bob's visitation. He passed away earlier this week. I was talking to my youngest sister about him. She doesn't remember him and never really knew him very well. Most of her childhood, we didn't have the DeVries Christmas parties. The only ones she can remember are from the community center at Robin's. I spent a good hour telling her about the Christmas parties at Uncle Bob and Aunt Jean's. She was there for them, but she was really, really young at the time and it doesn't surprise me she can't remember. Uncle Bob used to be Santa Claus at these parties. We would all be gathered in the family room, which had an entryway to the back yard. He would come in through the sliding-glass door and then we'd get our presents which had been placed under the tree. After a while, us older kids figured out it was Uncle Bob, but shortly after that, we stopped having Christmas parties at their house. I remember sitting on his lap, waiting to get my present. I also remember my Grandpa Meeth walking us over to Uncle Bob and Aunt Jean's house when we'd go over to Grandma and Grandpa's to visit. They only lived a few blocks away from each other and the park was just a block or so past Uncle Bob and Aunt Jean's. Just recently, we started having Christmas parties again. Uncle Bob was always full of mischief, making sure he got all of the candy gifts during the bingo game. I'm really going to miss him. He was a wonderful soul, always with a smile, even when he had every reason to be sad. |
| It's already Thursday. I don't want it to be Thursday! If the week would go by slower, I would be happier. Although, if it were going by slowly, I would probably be complaining about it. I've been on Spring Break and enjoying it. I love being home with the boys right now. But I also know that I'll look forward to summer break because of this and, by the end of summer break, I'll be ready to go back to work. Ethan is pretty much potty trained, except the pooping part. We cannot get it through his head that he needs to go poop on the toilet. He's gone to the point of withholding until he gets someplace where its quiet, like his bed at naptime or bedtime. I've gone to the point of feeding him two prunes in attempts to force a movement that so I can sit him on the toilet and show him it's not that bad. Jason isn't making it easier. He yelled at him last night for pooping in his pullup. At least he waited until the pullup was on! It could have been much, much yuckier to clean up had he still been wearing the underwear. My birthday was awesome! Thanks to everyone who left me a blog comment or sent me a cNote. And thank you to terryjroo and GeminiStar for the merit badges. We went to Brann's Steakhouse for dinner. I had a calorie fest. Then we went and saw Leatherheads. It was a cute movie. I enjoyed it, and so did Jason.I wish it wasn't Thursday already. I feel like I've accomplished nothing this week! I hate feeling that way. |
| OK. I will be turning 25 for the third time (just about everyone forgot my birthday last year so it doesn't count - not even a card from my own grandmother and my Mom didn't call until the DAY AFTER to wish me a happy birthday). Or, if we really want to get technical, it's the third anniversary of the day I turned 25. I don't celebrate age anymore, anyway. I've bought, so far, two games for my Nintendo DS and some scrapbook supplies and haven't even spent my $180 birthday stash because Jason buys stuff that cancels my purchase out as a birthday purchase. lol All that, and somehow we've managed to pay off three credit cards and are caught up on all of the bills in only 2 paychecks from my new job, plus Jason's normal paycheck and a bonus. Oh, yeah, and we bought a new window for the kitchen and his Mom bought us the last two for the living room. I'm really glad that I had the chance to slim down our spending because we actually have a savings already, along with all of the other stuff, and we can go to the store and not have to juggle bills that week in order to do so. Life is amazing when you're not stressing about money. That's my anniversary of turning 25 gift to myself.  |
| Saturday, I will turn 25 for the third time. I always say I don't want anyone to make a big deal about my birthday, but then whenever they actually listen to me, I get my feelings hurt. So, this year, if you want to make a big deal, great. Please do. I love having a big deal made of my birthday, even though I say I don't. I take cash, check, and credit card. Oh, and gift points. Nobody can go wrong with any of those.  Seriously, though. If you just leave me a comment in my blog on Saturday, that will be enough. I love getting email. Or you could review a newbie in my name. That would be cool, too. Or make a donation to RAOK in my name. Look at me. I'm making a birthday wish list. Aren't I sweet? But... I'm turning 25 again. I'm not any older than 25. Got it? |
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