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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 recently started using text messages. I've got AT&T mobile. It's OK. I "LOL" a lot online. I also "ROFL," "IDK," "IMHO," and many others. I barely have the time to take a shit daily, so any time I can take out of my day by not typing, "laughing out loud" or "rolling on the floor, laughing," or, "I don't know," or, "in my honest opinion," is welcome. I really can't wait until spring break. Hmmm... IRCWUSB. MDSWLSTWM. AMICSIT. (I really can't wait until spring break. My dear sons will love spending time with me. And maybe I can sleep in, too.) But you already knew what all of that meant, didn't you? |
| I'm going to openly admit, for maybe the first time, in this blog that I watch American Idol. I'm going on my third season, now. I rooted for Taylor Hicks to win. I rooted for Blake Lewis to win. And now, I'm rooting for David Cook to win. Last week, the contestants had to choose songs from their year of birth. Kristy Lee Cook chose God Bless the USA by Lee Greenwod. I may be the only person in America who feels this way, but I think that that is one of the corniest songs. And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I wont forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. And I gladly stand up, next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA. I am proud to be an American, but that doesn't mean that I need to sing about it. It also don't mean that I would consider us exactly free. I mean, we're not censored so badly as China, but there's still other things, like mortgages and health care costs that keep us from being completely free. It was the corniest song choice, but it got her through the week. David A. had a corny, corny song, too. He also made it through. In the beginning, his squishy-cute huggy goodness was irresistible. Now, it's bordering on annoying and overplayed. Sort of like Kelly Pickler pretending to be dumb - oh, wait. Kristy's song choice this week, to me, although clever, was proof that she really has no clue. And she needs to go home. And stop singing. Forever. I'm not Anti-American. I'm just Anti-God-Bless-The-USA-Singing-By-Kristy-Lee-Cook. |
| I don't ever care if I sound like an asshole. I know I'm an asshole, and can sometimes even fall into the category of all-out bitch. Or, at least I like people to think that, because apparently I'm known in many areas as a big sweetheart, even though I don't know what I've done to deserve that title. I'm a bit self-important, too, so while I most often write like I'm talking to someone else and an audience, I don't really care whether they enjoy it, because I enjoy it and that's all that matters. They ought to, anyway, because I like it, so everyone else should, too. If nobody read this blog, I'd still probably write the same way, although I can't say that for sure. I act like this normally, so it's not really a change. I'm a bit of a personality, but sometimes I do ham it up more than normal. The big thing, though, is that I've stopped trying, in the recent past, to write anything interesting. If it's interesting, it will happen. If not, then we'll all be bored to tears. Either way, I've blogged, and that's really all that matters. I'm still an asshole, though, and I don't care. |
| Cappy, to me, is anything but minuscule. I have an idea of who may have called her such, but in this life, minuscule would describe the brain that would think of her as anything but beautiful, intelligent, and grand. I always find time to laugh at myself and try not to take myself so seriously. It's hard not to, sometimes, though. When people around you are so serious about being taken seriously, even when they do stupid things that they think are incredibly intelligent. Like, taking someone's hard work and tearing it apart for the sake of his own ego. I won't go into it, though. I just think that he takes himself way, way too seriously. It's sort of like drinking too much coffee, that ego thing. You get shakier and shakier until you either have a heart attack or a panic attack or you come down from the caffeine and go into a coma. Your ego gets bigger and bigger, until it stretches to the point of popping. At some point, someone will come along with a rhetorical pin and pop it. Happens to me all the time, if you can believe that. I don't generally have much of an ego, but God seems to make sure it stays that way. Just when I think I'm making headway - nope - I'm thrown a few steps back. I know some people who could afford to take a few steps back. Anyone who would ever think to call Cappy minuscule is one of them. |
| My relationship with my parents has gotten better over the years, since I don't live with them anymore. I have snide comments I could make, but I don't have the energy to type it out, since it's a waste of my time and it'd probably fly right over peoples' heads, anyway. |
| I don't get excited about Easter like I do Christmas. We have dinner. The kids watch the Veggie Tales Story of Easter while munching on the fruit snacks the Easter bunny brought them in their basket. (OK, so Cameron is too young to much on fruit snacks. He gets cereal puffs.) I could ramble on and on about Christmas traditions, but Easter only takes a paragraph. One is about the birth of Jesus (and Santa bringing gifts) and the other is about Jesus' death and ressurection (and a bunny bringing chocolate). You'd think with chocolate, there would be no contest. |
| I spent much of my college years traveling back and forth between Kalamazoo and Milton, Kentucky. Milton is one of those one-blinking-light towns, with a gas station, a general store, a chiropractor, a restaurant, and an all-purpose, but not quite general store. It's amazing how many different ways there are to get to I-69, and then to get from I-69 to US-131. I would sometimes take US-421 to SR-7 to I-69. Sometimes, I would just take US-421 to I-69. I could go through Muncie, if I wanted. Or there's Hope, Indiana. The town with the circle in the center that I screwed up more than once. I think after the second or third time, I stopped going that way. One year, coming home for Christmas, the roads got terrible and they closed down I-69. We were planning to head up I-69 to I-94, but we figured I-94 would close, too. So we got off at some obscure state road and eventually found SR-31, that lead us through Amish country. It was neat to be driving down the road and see a horse-drawn cart. The last road trip I've taken was either up to Lake Louise in Boyne Falls, or to Chicago. We haven't gone many places since I got pregnant with Cameron. First, we couldn't really afford to. And now, packing up two kids and all of their stuff is too much of a hassle unless it's really something special. We're planning another trip to Chicago this summer, though. I want to go someplace. I don't care where, as long as it's far enough away to be not here. |
| To be completely honest, I once received a review at work that said that I don't give myself enough credit for all of the things that I know. I'm of the opinion that I don't know nearly enough, that I don't utilize nearly the vocabulary that I'd like to, that I am the one who never thinks of anything clever and wishes that I could've thought of something cool like everyone else. In some ways, I suffer from an inferiority complex. Most of the time, I'm being paranoid. There are other times, though, when it's a founded bit of paranoia. I say to M at work on my third day, during a conversation about our job, "I don't know anything." He kind of gets this look on his face like... I don't know... he sort of raised an eyebrow and got this smirk, "You don't know anything?" "You know what I mean... about this job. I know computers, you know. I just don't know the KPS way of fixing them." I think he was disappointed in that response. "Oh," he said, "well, you'll figure it out after a while." A, my boss, seems to know that I need bits of reassurance here and there. He told me, on Friday, that the staff really like me because they tell me that they need something and I do it right away, and that I seem to know a lot more than he expected, given the fact that I was a number-cruncher prior to working with him. I guess that was enough to give my ego a boost. That, and my paycheck. Money should give anybody's ego a boost. |
| I just got my paycheck... I don't know what to do with that much money in a single paycheck. Oh, yes I do. I'm paying off a credit card. lol |
| So, the moral of today is this: If you want something done, you should ask nicely, instead of sending an email using capitalized everything and every insinuation of rudeness. I don't -have- to do anything, but I may be inclined to do it because of a polite request. Please ask nicely. The word of today is "please," to go with the moral of today. |
| Life is an inevitable journey of change. We are born, we learn and grow, we become adults with jobs and careers, some of us have kids, those kids learn and grow. Hopefully, we get to see our kids have kids before we die. But we always die. It's the biggest change of all, that living to dead thing. Not that I'm trying to sound morbid or anything. It's just the most inevitable thing of all. I'm so used to change that I almost force it upon myself, even when I think I don't want it. Like this new job - it's a huge change for me. I've gone from sitting behind a desk, plugging numbers into a computer, occasionally answering the phone and giving out gas cards and bus tokens, to rarely getting a chance to sit down, running from one end of the building to the other umpteen million times, bugging the secretary endlessly for order forms, and sometimes telling my boss that he doesn't give me enough to do because I like to be overwhelmed. I'm not overwhelmed right now. Not terribly. I thought that this whole transition from part-time to full-time would make me feel guilty and that I would be worried about missing out on what the kids are doing - Cameron getting bigger by the day, Ethan getting smarter by the minute. I'm sort of at ease with the knowledge that I will always have to work in one way or another unless we want to live on a very rigid budget without any extras. I don't even feel like it's necessary to defend this - so many other families go through it and in today's world you can't live comfortably as a one-income family when you have a mortgage and a car payment, especially if you don't get any kind of government assistance. Please don't take that last statement wrong. It's just that everyone that I personally know who is a stay-at-home Mom also gets food stamps or WIC or disability or something to help support their stay-at-home ability. I don't get that because my husband makes too much money, yet not enough that, on its own, will do everything we need it to. Yep. Damned if we do and damned if we don't. It was the same song, this time last year. I doubt that that's a change that we'll ever be able to make. |
| I'm working with a lot of people who have been in the district since I attended school here. Rivets, my band director, is teaching at the same school I work at. Roger Lynch, the director that Rivets replaced, also works there as the orchestra teacher. Ms. Hoyle, who used to work at Northeastern when I attended elementary school, also works at the same school as I do. I'm not that old, but it's just strange to me, that I now work with people who taught me the things I know. In a way, they can kind of take credit for my being in the position I am in, since they each contributed to my being who I am today. There are some other teachers that are no longer around. Effie Crocker, my 4th grade teacher, retired a long time ago. She was the coolest teacher, even though she was like 400 years old at the time. It wouldn't surprise me if she were still alive, walking around in sunny Florida or something, wearing her Nike sneakers and her polyesther pants suits. Mary Godfried was my drama coach in high school. She retired my junior year and died last year. I hadn't even known about her death until months after the fact because I a) don't get the paper and thus done check obituaries, and b) KPS neglected to announce it when it happened, even though they announce that so-and-so's husband, who was married to someone who once lived with someone who knew someone who worked for KPS, died hours after the fact. Mr. Crossman, the teacher I had a crush on Freshman year, left the district after just one year. He went to another district in another county, which was disappointing to me, since I was supposed to be his teacher aid my sophomore year. That left me scrounging to find a teacher to aid. It ended up being Mrs. Steve. She was another teacher who I admire. Mrs. Steve was a science teacher who taught me everything I know about genetics and biology. She was my AP Biology teacher and my science olympiad coach. Of course, I don't remember most of what she taught me in regards to DNA and dominant/recessive traits, but I still remember her. I don't know where she is now, but I don't think she teaches at Central anymore. There are tons of ways for me to look back on my childhood years, my teen years, and my pre-adult years. One of them is to think of all of the things that went wrong and all of the people I could blame for the crap I went through. Another is for me to remember all of the people who made those years bareable and fun. Sometimes I miss high school. Even if it's only because I want to play Eleanor Rigby on the base drum one more time. |
| Nothing like squeezing it in at the last minute, eh? I guess I could cut it closer, but I want to go to bed and then all of the sudden I remembered that I'm supposed to do my FtL entry today. I blame the lack of hormones for this forgetfulness. I'm allowed. My doctor said it is, indeed, a side effect. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I got the photos of my nephew uploaded onto MySpace today. I had put a ton on there, not thinking about the fact that photos of a newborn can be termed indecent. There was a photo that I had snapped while he was being weighed, and they deleted it because of nudity. Because, you know, the photo of a newborn boy being weighed is something that any of my friends would wank off to. (The photos were in an album that was only viewable by those on my friends list, so I'm wondering if one of them reported it, which is totally stupid, but anyway.) It's also totally inappropriate for a 14-year-old child to see a bare newborn. It's just the same as seeing... you know... his DAD naked or something. But, I digress. I didn't mean to vent. Yes I did, but I did that out of habit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I went over and saw said nephew earlier. I guess they've decided not to smoke in their apartment, now, which makes me happy. But for a smoke-free environment, I still left smelling like I just spent a few hours at the bar. I took some really cute photos of him for his announcements. He's such a little peanut, though! It's just insane how small he is. He got measured again at the doctor's office and he actually shrank an inch and a half. My sister thinks it was because his cone-head shrank and now he's got a normal, round head again. I am inclined to agree with her. While I was there, she was having trouble with breastfeeding. She's not getting the u-hold right so I had to physically show her how to hold her breast by placing her hand the way it needed to be positioned. How is it that I can teach someone else to breastfeed, but can never calm my mind down enough to do it myself? At least I'm giving her the support that I never received with either one of my kids: someone who can encourage and ensure. If she's having problems, she'll have someone she can call to either tell her she's doing fine or help her figure out what's going wrong. It makes me feel good to know I can do that for someone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jason was upset with me when I left. He gets pissed when I leave him alone with the kids in the evening. Like I'm supposed to be a slave to them anytime after 6 pm. I left anyway, because I had already told them I was coming and I don't go back on my word. I was going to make it up to him later, but now I think I'm too tired. He'll just have to get over it without any special coaxing. He left me for several days with a 2-year-old and a newborn, so I don't really owe him much of anything, anyway. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Now that I've gotten to the point where this is partially acceptable, I can write my newsletters that were procrastinated, too. I really had all of the time in the world this week to work on them. You know, somewhere in between work and sick people and trying to get sleep in there somewhere, as well. It isn't the first time I've procrastinated, and I dare not say it will be the last. Doing so may make my nose grow or my nipples fall off or something equally bad. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I don't know how much of this is really as sarcastic as I had first intended. I don't really care, though. I'm just glad I didn't flake. You should be glad, too. |
| My sister had her baby on Wednesday morning. You know, before that whole immediate care thing with my husband and two kids. After working thirteen hours on Monday. Before working late again on Thursday. I think she might be lost, sometimes. Not Lost, but really, truly, lacking in common sense and motherly instincts. Let me explain: 1) She wasn't taking birth control and was having sex, and then was surprised because she got pregnant. 2) She didn't quit smoking during her pregnancy, despite my (and probably doctor) warnings that it could cause her to go into premature labor, delivering a premature baby, or a low birth weight baby even if she went full term. 3) She got a UTI two weeks ago and didn't take the antibiotics prescribed to her, even though she was warned that kidney infections are very easy to get when pregnant. Then a week later, when she was having strange pains, didn't even think it could possibly be related to said UTI. 4) Once the baby was born, all she could care about was going home. I can understand not liking staying in the hospital, but she had a 5 lb, 11 oz baby. 18 1/2 inches long. And she wants to get out of the hospital so she can have a cigarette. Because smoking is more important than making sure that your small child is in the best physical condition to be able to leave to hospital. Because she couldn't bring herself to love her child enough to stop smoking while she was pregnant, so why would I ever think that once the baby was born, she would see the light. OK. So maybe she isn't lost. Maybe I'm lost in ever expecting people to do the right thing for their kids. Maybe I set my expectations for people too high. Maybe, in knowing all of the things we know now, I would expect someone who looks and acts so much like me (in some respects, but obviously not ALL) to understand things like I do. She apparently doesn't, and it irritates the hell out of me. That might be more my problem than it is her's, but it's for good reason. I have a little peanut of a cute nephew whose parents smoke. And when he gets RSV because his lungs are full of smoke and his immune system is too busy trying to repair the damage that it can't fight off normal viruses, the only person I will feel sorry for is him. No. I still can't believe I'm the one who's lost. I get whose needs and wants are above my own. I get that I have more money to budget because I don't have cigarettes that take priority over things like my car payment. Why can't she get that? Why is she so lost? |
| So, this may come as a surprise to some people, but I'm slightly OCD. (Note that the previous statement had sarcasm seeping out of every letter.) I can't stand mixing foods together. Whether it's called Hobo Stew and is "supposed" to be that way, I don't care. It's still mixing a whole bunch of food together that I had cooked separately. It goes against my rule of not letting my foods touch each other on the plate. Stop looking at me that way. You know you've got quirks of your own. Quit judging mine. We got our new pots and pans this week, and I haven't even had the chance to use them to make any food that some may use as ingredients to hobo stew. No beans, no oatmeal. (I'm sorry, but that just sounds gross. Not that I'm trying to be mean. I just think it sounds gross.) Everybody has been too sick or too tired to bother cooking anything. Jason came down with bronchitis that caused him to develop asthma. We ended up in immediate care on Wednesday for that. Ethan and Cameron both have the stomach flu that they also ended up in immediate care for the same evening. The only person in this house who is healthy is me, and although I have to eat, it's been more like McDonald's and Burger King because I don't have the energy to do anything else. That is probably how we've become such a fast food nation. We all try to fit too much into a day to bother to spend any time cooking. You know. 8 hours of work, then 4 hours in the immediate care center. Three hours one night of Literacy Night at the school. Another hour on another evening to run sound tech for a choir concert. They're all lousy excuses, if you ask me, but they're my excuses and I'm sticking to them. |
| Eh... if my life were an RPG, what would it be called? It'd be sort of like Final Fantasy X and FFX2, where there's subgames within the actual game itself. Like, instead of Blitzball, there would be housework, and instead of the card game (that's FFX2, right?) there'd be scrapbooking. Your objective in winning the game would be to defeat the computer ogre that breaks everyone's equipment and make sense of a world of chaotic equipment. Boss battles would include the destructive student and the postal teacher. If I were to guage myself as a character right this moment, I would have about 12 hit points left. Lack of sleep and fatigue would be detrimental to hp values. Whenever you go more than a couple of hours with a certain level of fatigue, you lose 5 hp. Ways to increase hp would include coffee (+10), chocolate (+25), and Mountain Dew (+30). Weaponry would include the flash drive, the master key, and a wireless, optical mouse. You'd defeat the bosses and other beasts (disgruntled students requiring password resets, new ID cards, and secretaries tired of you asking for stuff) in your quests by fixing the computers in their surrounding area. Each computer problem fixed would decrease their HP by a percentage of points until they were satisfied, causing them to become NPCs instead of MOBs. Yeah. It's been a long week at work. Can you tell that I'm a little loopy? I even drank coffee this morning to bring up my HP, but I went too long without rest and lost 15 HP due to fatigue. Alright. Enough geek RPG talk. Can you tell I spent way too much time in college playing Daggerfall, the Elder Scrolls, FF I through IX, and my adult life playing FFX, FFXI, etc. People like me are raising kids. Be afraid. Be very afraid. |
| I worked 13 hours. 7:30 am until 8:30 pm. I'm tired. |
| When I'm at home with my family, I tend to wear whatever is most comfortable. Sometimes, nothing at all. My kids aren't old enough, yet, to worry about them noticing that I have a different anatomy. And even if they did, I don't think it's a bad thing to be unashamed of the human body and that nudity isn't as taboo, in the privacy of your own home, as it might be in the real world. I want them to love their body, and I like running around in a bra and panties unashamed, so I'm hoping that this helps convey that message. Or, it will teach them to run around nude with no regard for the rest of the world. Either way, I'm not putting any clothes on unless I'm cold. Or if friends come over. If friends come over, I generally upgrade to less comfortable jeans and a nice t-shirt. That is, a t-shirt I wouldn't wear around the house because I wouldn't want it to accumulate Mommy stains. Yes, I care what I look like even in the presence of the woman who helped me deliver Cameron - whom saw me nude then and on other occasions. It's just the way I am. I like to look nice for other people. When I go to work, I'm a little more professional. I wear a nice blouse or other collared shirt. I wear slacks. I wear comfortable, more leaning toward the dress variety, shoes. Occasionally, I might wear jeans. On Fridays, it's considered acceptable. But I wear the jeans I won't even wear for my friends. The brand new pair that only gets worn when I have someplace nice, but not too nice, to go. For job interviews, I go all out. Pants suit. Nice shell. High heels. Yep. I dress to impress. He, or she, who says they do not act differently in front of other people forget about clothes. Is clothing not an extension of our personality? I believe so, for I dress differently around different people, just the same as I act more relaxed around my family because they're my family and they love me the way I am. I'm still relaxed around my friends, but I don't tell them about my bowel cycles or the gross phlegm I just hacked into a kleenex. They can be spared those details simply because they're not married to me, not my kid, and not my Sister, Mom, or Dad. Just the same as at work I don't talk about things that could be misconstrued, I don't get catty, and I basically act like a professional robot (except lunch time). The more questionable things you do around your coworkers and employer, the more reason you give them to get rid of you if the need ever arises. And just like, at a job interview, you don't tell them about all of the naughty things and mistakes you make. You're trying to make an impression, and not one that says that you're not desirable to be hired. So... I have different personalities. Which one do you think you're subjected to here? |
Or... I never use my blog for writing about anything other than myself, and I'm not about to start. I'm just selfish like that.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I told Jason he could go fishing the weekend of April 12th, and I lied. I feel bad for taking his "me-time" away from him, but that date became the date of Richelle's baby shower. Sorry Jason! He says I get way more "me-time" than he does, but he counts things like grocery shopping without him and the kids and running errands as "me-time," when I don't. I define said time as the time when I get to do something that I like to do, like scrapbooking, card making, blogging... things like that. I sometimes like shopping, but only when I'm at stores that are -not- Wal*Mart and I'm buying things that are -not- groceries. Obviously, I went shopping today. I went to Hobby Lobby (Richelle's baby shower invitations). They didn't have everything I wanted/needed, so I went to Masterpiece Memories. They didn't have anything that I wanted/needed, but I bought stuff anyway. I went to Wal*Mart, where I got things I needed and even things I didn't. I went to Old Navy to get the rest of Natalie's and Jack's birthday presents. Then I went to Scrapbook Nook. They didn't have anything that I wanted/needed, either, though I still bought something anyway. Do you all really care about my mundane errands? Probably not. But this is about me, so get over it. I got home, and Jason has started getting the plague and decided he needed to go to bed. I don't get to go to bed when I'm sick, but whatever. Mommies get to play nurse to babies and bigger babies, aka Daddies. But that's OK. Instead of going fishing, he gets to have his "Me-time" in a nap. Ha! How does he like that? Maybe I should start counting the time he spends on the toilet pooping as some of his "Me-time." I mean, it can take him a good fourty-five minutes, and I know that most of that time is just spent reading Popular Science and Popular Mechanics! Nobody can seriously take fourty-five minutes to poop. If you do, you need more fiber in your diet or something. *cough* Problematic Content *cough*Anyway, I think I'll end this pointless entry for the time being. I hadn't realized that revoking my husband's fishing priviledges would turn into a long-winded, boring entry. My apologies! |
So, if you're following it, yes, I am participating in "Follow the Leader"  [13+]. I need a reason to journal, and thankfully, mood indigo runs this contest or else I'd be bent over a barrell with no grease. Now, on to the response...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was a single woman with the dreams of a career and delusions of grandeur, no matter how cliche that might sound. I didn't want to get married. I didn't want to have kids. If you've read my journals and blogs for as long as I've been here, I've mentioned this before. About a year after my wedding anniversary (the wedding I wasn't going to have, remember?), I found out I was pregnant (with the child I wasn't going to have, either) with Ethan. I think it was sometime around August 2004 that I discovered just how joyful pregnancy was, what with passing out in the bathroom one morning as I was getting ready for work and ending up in the hospital for infusions and infections that caused preterm labor and all that. Even as I was preparing to have a beautiful little boy, I was filled with trepidation about what kind of mother I would be. I mean, Ethan wasn't -unwanted-. He is not, nor will ever be -unwanted-. In fact, he is probably the greatest gift that God has ever given me, because he taught me just how wrong I was about my original convictions. I had someone ask me about my desire to have children. How strong was it? It's difficult to explain the situation without sounding like a horrible mother! Lots of people practice poor family planning, in that they're not financially ready for children, they're not emotionally ready for children, or any other reasons to not be ready for children. In honest reflection of myself, without trying to be tactful in how I word myself so as not to offend (because someone, somewhere will always be offended by one thing or another), I had no desire to be a mother, until I was one. Motherhood, parenthood in general, is not something that you're ever really ready for until you're in the throes and broken into by jumping right in. The thing is, you can give back other peoples' kids. And other peoples' kids are cute because of this reason. Or they annoy you because they're not your own. Either way, the February before I got pregnant with Ethan, I was told I may never be able to have children. At that point, Jason and I stopped trying so hard to prevent pregnancy. In that carelessness, we conceived a child. It's the best accident I've ever had in my life, and I'm glad that I was put in a situation where I questioned the decisions I had made for my life's plan. Some people try hard to make the world a better place through actions that directly make a mark on the world. Others try to make the world a better place by raising children who make a positive mark on the world. I have two right now. Do I desire another? I'm not sure. Ask me again when my oldest isn't puking and my youngest isn't waking up twenty-seven times a night. |
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