Creepy Creepy Shit

Do your kids do some shit sometimes where you're just like, what in the fuck am I looking at?

I go into Ladybug's room, and over in the corner there's this pile of toys.  Not just toys though, headless dolls.  A stack of naked, headless dolls.  So I'm like, wow, that shit's creepy.  But then I turn and I see this:

Puppets... They're just puppets...

This is normal, right?  I seriously can't be the only person with a 4-year-old who is stripping and decapitating dolls, then sticking their heads on sticks and waving them in the air...
I'm not the only one.... Right!?!?!?!

I don't think I can afford therapy right now for her, so seriously.  Somebody, tell me this is normal.

Apocalypse Dream

Man.

For reals.

I need to see one of those dream analysts or something.  I dream, a lot.  Usually these really trippy things that when I wake up I feel out of breath but I cannot for the life of me remember even the slightest detail about my dream.  But last night, last night was different.  It was frightening.  I woke up in a cold sweat and feeling exhausted and ready to hide under the bed and cry for a while.

The dream started out simple enough- I was in Houston (I don't live there yet, but the plans are in motion and we will be getting our move on within the next week or two).  So, I was in Houston, in this big pretty skyscraper building, with glass windows all the way around one side, looking into downtown.  And I was surrounded by people, people from my past that I vaguely recognize now that I'm awake but in my dream were complete strangers.  These were people who I truly never expect to see again, they are quite distant memories and most of them are from a time in my life where, how can I put this... I never knew most of their "real" names.  Can I just leave it at that?  Great, thanks :)

So there's this lady with twin girls (in real life she had twin boys) and I asked her their names, and she couldn't remember one of the daughter's name but the other was something that started with a "C" (I don't remember).  Hope that wasn't one of those key points that could unfold the hidden truth of my experience. Moving on.  The lady also has another child I think, a very short one with this adorable little afro.  Too cute.

So we put all the kid's into bed and Ladybug is there and she's fast asleep and I'm standing by the windows, looking out at the city when I see this falling star.  I point it out to my friend with the red hair (alias: Phoenix), this girl whom I have not seen nor heard from nor thought of in about 5 years.  And she just blows it off, like it is nothing.  And I continue to watch, and it continues to get bigger and brighter and closer and then suddenly it's falling straight down, straight into the middle of the city and oh-so-close to this huge building that I am in, made almost entirely of glass and what feels like hundreds of stories up.

So it's falling, and I'm panicking inside, I can feel my heart racing and my breath is heavy and then like a bomb that falling star hits, straight down in the middle of all those buildings that I'm looking out into, and it's like a nuclear blast, the mushroom cloud blowing  up into the sky and watching the windows in buildings blowing out, the wave getting closer and closer to me.  I can feel the heat on my face while I'm looking at this through the window and gasping and pulling for people's attention in the building.  The red haired friend and that lady with the children and me, all alone in this skyscraper watching Houston falling apart and catching fire.

this is almost exactly what my dream looked like. creepy.

Then these other women finally notice what is happening and panic ensues.  We're running around, somebody get the children, somebody get supplies.  Somebody get water.  Somebody grab a phone.  I am pulling Aleigh by her foot down the bed towards me, trying not to yell "Wake up, Wake up Bug, get up get up we gotta go we gotta go."  And she's being her usual just-waking-up self, stink-eyeing me like I'm the devil in disguise ( I know that look well, I get it every morning).  So the red haired woman is saying, "Look, there's already a plane flying over us.  They're checking to make sure we're okay."  And I look up (because suddenly I guess there is not a roof on the building? Or maybe we made it up to the roof and I just don't realize? It's a dream, go with it.)  And so I look up and I see this little light streaking across the sky, but then it disappears.  And suddenly another little streak, and another, and another, and before I know it the whole sky is filled with these little streaks of light flying in every direction some short and some long and I realize that it's all falling stars.  Little ones, that are burning up, but I'm filled with panic and sorrow and fear and I rush to fill up a bag with food so that we can get downstairs, get into a basement or a cellar.  The other women are putting all of the children into a shopping cart together and we're going to just carry the cart full of children (like, 6 or 7 in total because apparently children clone themselves in their sleep? IDK) and I'm stuffing all types of stuff into my bag and I'm seeing this fire getting closer and closer and then suddenly--

I'm awake.


Where's Freud when you need him?

You're Pissing Me Off - Part 1

So since I'm full of frustration and anger at some random (and some not so random) groups of people tonight, and since I get this feeling on a pretty regular basis, I'm going to start a series, called "You're Pissing Me Off"...

For Part 1 I'm choosing people that need to be taken out back behind a tool shed, blind folded, covered in lemon juice and beaten with a whip until they black out and then are buried alive with nothing but a few gallons of water a couple loaves of bread and a long bendy straw sticking out of the ground to breathe through.

Only then will they be prevented from further pissing me and the other good not-such-complete-and-total-fucking-pricks type of people in this beautiful world of ours.  Let's being:

1) A faker- A liar, a phony...  People who are only around you because you have something to offer them or you have something that they desire and then whenever you stop providing whatever it is they are after, suddenly they are just too busy or too sick or too WHAT THE FUCK EVER to come around.  Fuck these people.  Hard.  With no lube.  And, good riddance.

2)  The "Victim" - You know the type, the one who is a grown ass man/woman that is fully in charge of his/her own life and his/her own choices, but no matter what happens they are the victim.  They are the one who is so mistreated and has just gotten the shit end of the stick and they just can't believe how poorly they are being treated.  Here's a clue for ya prick, since you can't seem to get one on your own; Maybe, people wouldn't kick you to the curb or "mistreat" you or "abandon" you if you would just once in a while take a little responsibility for the things you do and say.  Stand behind your actions for once in your fucking life and admit, "Hey, I messed up."  You're not the fucking "victim of circumstance"- You are the sole creator of those circumstances and while you are sitting with your head hanging low and feeling sorry for yourself take a moment to consider the way you are making the people feel who have no choice but to turn their backs on you because of the way you behave.  Grow the fuck up, have some dignity, and if you're not fucking happy about where you're at in life, then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!

3)  Grown-Ups that can't follow simple directions.  Or worse, grown-ups that intentionally do something incorrectly over and over and over again in hopes that you will stop asking them to do it at all.  I mean, it's bad enough when a kid or a teenager does it, but for reals homie, you are a grown-ass man/woman, do what you need to do.  Get the fuck over it.

copyright- who knows... courtesy of Google Image Search

4)  People who misspell memes and ecards and other graphic thingies that go viral on FB or whatever.  Gah, that shit just gives me a twitch.

So- What pisses YOU off!?!?!

The Angry Post

deviantart - girandzim111

I am angry.  I am angry at the world, I think, but mostly I am angry at the State of Texas.   I am angry at all of it's red tape and all of it's legally binding forms.  I am angry at the loops and flaming hoops I am being forced to jump through to complete a seemingly simple task.  I am angry at all of the bureaucratic bullshit that I am having to wade through to get something taken care of, something that is already emotionally and mentally exhausting.



newborn ladybug - very very angry...

I am not just angry.  I am pissed off.  Livid.  Enraged.  Furious.  Pugnacious- That's a good one.  I am ready to bite someone's head off.  I am bursting into tears every time I speak to one of these robot-voiced asshats who don't give a damn about what I'm going through, what I'm dealing with, how long I've been waiting.  They don't care- And then I start crying and I'm apologizing to these assbags that I really want to scream and yell and curse at, and they're sighing and sounding all annoyed because I'm being a tad emotional.



1y5m ladybug - snotty-faced angry

First it started with the birth certificate- I wanted Mark's name to be on our daughter's birth certificate.  This is his first, and perhaps only, child.  No, technically it doesn't matter that his name isn't there, but it matters to me.  And he won't admit it, but I know it must matter to him.  I can see it in his eyes.  There is no reason his name should not be on the birth certificate, unless you ask the State.  According to them, me being married to someone else, despite how long we have been seperated, despite Mark and I both there willing to sign legal documents stating paternity, no- No, Mark cannot be on the birth certificate until I go jump through a flaming death hoop.


"Get online, find the forms, get them notarized.  Oh, no, not that form the other form.  It should have a spot for the notary to notarize it.  Oh it does.  Yes, I know you're looking at the form and it says it's the correct form but I'm at my desk in my big fancy government office and I'm telling you that I make the rules and the rules say figure it out."




 2 mo - "Don't worry mom, I'll shoot 'em the bird for ya!!!"

Screw it.  I will get it changed some other time.  Later on, down the road.  It took me 7 months before I finally went and got a "Certified Copy" of my deceased daughter's birth certificate, with only my name listed as a parent.  I don't even have her original birth certificate.  I'll never have an "original" birth certificate.  And that makes me angry.

Well now, I'm thinking, geez, why haven't I gotten a death certificate yet?  I know I paid for 2 certified copies of it- Yet I haven't received either.  So I'm speaking with the nice ladies at the funeral home and nobody can figure out why the stupid death certificate is in State of Texas Purgatory, just waiting in limbo caught between the doctor's certification and signature, and the State's official seal of approval before being mailed to me.  So after over a week of back-and-forth phone calls between myeslf and the funeral home and the delivering doctor's assistant, finally we get it finalized.  Great, it will be here by Tuesday, at the latest.

Oh, and then Thursday arrived, Thursday arrives and I get a phone call from the funeral home.  They don't know why, but apparently when a death certificate gets finalized so far past the date of death, the State doesn't automatically send out the death certificate like they normally would.  You have to call them and actually ask them to send it out.  Isn't that just grand?  Isn't that so fucking peachy that the system works so fucking smoothly like that?  So the lady from the funeral home is apologizing, profusely, that they've never had this happen before.  That they should have done something sooner, that I shouldn't have had to call and ask them to figure it out-  That was their job.  They should have done it.  And I am not upset with them at all, and I try to convey to them that my incessant phone calls and heavy sighs are not due to an oversight on their part- That it's just frustration with everything in general.  I tell them over and over again how thankful I am for their patience with me, and for all of their help.  In the back of my mind, I'm wondering if their seemingly genuine apologies and extra effort to help me is becaues they really are that nice, because they really are that helpful, and really that courteous.... Or is it just to save face, because they are 1 out of 2 funeral homes in the area and they don't want to lose a potential future customer due to these circumstances?  I choose to believe they are genuine, if for no other reason than to salvage what little bit of hope and patience and feel-good I have left inside me right now.

Moving on.

So I speak with the Medicaid office-  See, I was on Medicaid while pregnant with Mikaela (thankfully, or I never could have afforded the amazing specialists and doctors that I had during my pregnancy, but that's neither here nor there).  So when a pregnant lady is on medicaid, the baby is automatically put on Medicaid when born-  It took me months of calling the Health & Human Services Commission to get them to stop sending me medicaid cards for my deceased child.   Anyhow, I get the bright idea to get something printed out from HHSC, since it's a State Service, it's a State Document, and I should be able to use that as Mikaela's 2nd form of identity in order to get her social security number and card to be able to file her on my taxes.  I call the HHSC office and get put on hold 4 times, trying to verify before driving 30 minutes to the office with no driver's license, that I can, in fact, get something confirming that Mikaela is in fact a real person, and was in fact born in 2012.  Eventually, I get the answer I've been looking for- Yes, they can do that.

Fantastic.

Just to double check myself, I once again call the social security office to make sure that what I'm trying to do will work-  I have the birth certificate and something from Medicaid can be used as a 2nd form of identity.  I am on hold for nearly 20 minutes, but that's okay.  I expected it, actually, and I'm just relieved to be making progress.  Then, the lady on the other end of the line tells me that no, something like that would not be acceptable as second form of identity.  And, to make matters worse, she informs me that they are unable to issue a social security number to someone who is already deceased.  Now, why the other people I've talked to at that stupid administration could not tell me this, I am completely unsure.  At this point,  I am sniffling and failing miserably at holding back tears as I'm trying to explain to this lady that I'm sorry, I'm not upset with her, I'm just frustrated and I'm overwhelmed and that I just don't know what else to do.  She is repeating herself, "Ma'am- Ma'am I am trying to help you if you would just listen..." and although I'm not saying anything, she keeps asking me to listen.  Like my sniffling is making me deaf?  Sorry, lady, just say what you gotta say.  I'm trying my best here.

She tells me to call the IRS directly-  Of course she doesn't have their phone number, but if I just look them up online and get the number, call them and ask them what I need to do.  Alright- Another toll-free number, another automated messaging system telling me to press 1 for whatever and then * for whatever so  i just keep pressing buttons it doesn't name off until it finally gets pissed off and connects me to an operator (shhhh... that's my secret system, don't tell anybody).

I am, of course, on hold for upwards of half an hour.  Again, I expected it.  I'm relieved, the music is not quite as annoying as it normally is and I just sit back with the phone on speaker and continue to work on this post about being pissed off at all the red tape and what not.

I explain everything to the lady once she picks up-  My voice is shaky and I'm not even trying to hide how truly overwhelming this entire process has been for me.  I am stressed just about to my breaking point and I don't care who knows it.  She tells me that there is a chance that the IRS will deny my right to file her as a dependant because she passed away so soon after birth.

But then, something amazing happened-  She asked if she could put me on hold while she got out her big book of IRS secrets (my words, not hers)- She wanted to "research" (her words) what exactly I needed to do to file Mikaela on my taxes.  And she tells me that I don't need a social security number for her, nor do I need her death certificate.  All I need is proof that she was born, alive, in 2012, i.e. - a birth certificate.  I am elated- this is the best news I have had in weeks, and I tried my best to convey to her exactly how thankful I was that she took the time to look it up and explain it to me and was so unexpectedly helpful and nice and cheerful and patient.

I like the IRS.  At least, I like the fact that not everyone who works for them is some stuck up snooty pencil pusher with nothing better to do than pick on and bully the good honest working people of this country.  It's enlightening!

So for now, I am still angry, but only a little.  I am still angry at the State of Texas for making every little thing so damned difficult that you'd almost rather give up and live under a rock than take care of business.  But, I know, now, what to do if I am ever put in this circumstance again-  God willing this will become useless knowledge to me....

Bring Your Sexy Back

Speaking from experience here, the number one reason my libido has dropped over the years is because I just don't feel "it" anymore.  Not sex, I feel that just fine, but what I'm talking about is SEXY.  I just don't feel sexy anymore; Rarely, if ever, do I look at myself in the mirror and go, "Damn.  I'd do me."  How about you?  When I was preggers with Ladybug I thought I'd be this way, but to my surprise (and delight) I went back to pre-pregnancy size and shape and was delighted in my body's ability to "bounce back", so to speak.  Now, post-Butterfly-pregnancy, I have not been near as lucky.  The weight is gone, but the stretched out skin simply has no place to go and it leaves me feeling saggy and baggy and oh-so-lacking in the "I'm too sexy for my shirt" feeling that I used to feel in the bedroom.  It's not even just the physical aspect, it's mentally as well.  I'm so burdened by the lingering depression and stress and the everyday what-to-do's and what-didn't-happens...  It's overwhelming.  And I know I'm not the only one.  So many women I know feel the same way, I mean if you don't feel comfortable in your own skin, then it's pretty hard to feel sexually confident in the bedroom.  True story.


demotivational posters

One place I've found that really gets into the psychology of "feeling sexy" is this article at RedBook Mag Online called "Get Your Sexy Back".  They offer 21 ways to "tap into your sensual self".  Some of my favorites are:
5. Ditch the sweats. "If sweats have become your standard after-work uniform, then you are unlikely to feel sexy," says Sari Locker, the author of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Amazing Sex. You don't have to wear fishnets, "but buy some clothes that make you feel sexy when you're lounging, even if that's just a silky camisole and leggings."
     I'm the world's worst with this - I wear the same two pairs of blue jeans day in and day out (I do wash them.  Occasionally...), and if I don't have to work or go to town that day, my ass is happy sitting around in some baggy plaid or flannel pj bottoms and a tank top with no bra, often times with messy unwashed hair and yesterday's makeup.  I'm working on that!!!! *sigh* Moving on.

9. Make your most beautiful feature pop. Play up your eyes with a new eyeliner, or try a different gloss on your lips. Or, if you normally go natural, put on a little concealer. "When you feel beautiful, you feel sensual," says Debbie Mandel, the author of Turn On Your Inner Light. Take the extra three or four minutes to primp yourself and feel pretty — just for you
     This is something I used to do before "quality time", every time.  Fresh out of the shower, I would dab a little concealer under my eyes, a tad mascara and some nude-colored shadow (for shimmer), or maybe some light blush, and always chap stick for that fresh wet-lipped look.  I never do this anymore.  Again, working on that.

demotivational posters

10. Buy new underthings. Throw away those ripped, faded, you've-had-them-for-four-years granny panties and invest in some new underwear. The sexier, the better — but G-strings aren't required. New bikinis, boy shorts, or even basic briefs can make you feel special.
      Definitely my favorite.  A sexy new pair of panties can work wonders for my self esteem.  It doesn't have to be lacy or frilly or crotchless.  Something that matches my sense of style and my personality, but that's new and "cute" (cute is a relative term- take it the way you define it).  This is so important!!!

17. Change it up. Take an art class. Or book a last-minute weekend getaway. "Novelty is the greatest aphrodisiac," Gardos says. Switch up your routine to create spontaneity. "When you do something out of the ordinary, you're taking yourself off of autopilot, which creates excitement in your life," he says. "Excitement is always sexy."

One big thing is to stop tearing yourself down about that flabby tummy and stretch marks, stop beating yourself up over misplacing your keys and being late to work, or forgetting to pack the fruit slices in the kid's lunch for school.  You are your own worst enemy, and when it comes time to cuddle up next to you, those things are absolutely, positively guaranteed not to be on his mind.  He is just thinking about you, all of you, and how you make him feel, physically and probably mentally and emotionally as well.  So, if he's not thinking about all those other "little" things, then why should you?  Let it go and live in that moment!!!

I found another really great article from EverydayHealth.com here.

Since Butterfly's birth and passing, my relationship with the STBH (Soon-To-Be-Hubs, aka Mark) has strengthened immensely, however my sexual prowess has become nearly non-existent.  So tonight I am challenging myself, and hopefully you will do the same.  My vow is to try three of these things listed in these two articles over the next week and see what that does to increase my desire for some under cover lovin'.  Let me know how it works for y'all!!!

One Night Stand

A long time ago, I was laying around, flipping through what I'm sure was a Cosmo magazine (it's been that long, I really can't remember for sure), I came across an article about spicing up a love life that has gotten too comfortable. It was the same typical mumbo-jumbo that you still see littering the pages of the Cosmo to this day.

However.

There was one thing. One little idea that has stuck with me over all these years that I have never done, that I'm not sure I could convince any man, ever, to agree to, but that I want to try. I want to try it so bad. You wanna know what it is? It's gonna give you some insight into the way my mind works and how much of a freak I really am. So there ya go, that's your "Mature Content" warning. You sure you're ready?  Okay, it's not really that dirty, but still...  Here it goes.





taboo lounge - 123inspiration

Picture this- You're in the big city for the night, you had a business meeting and fly back home tomorrow.  You're sitting in the hotel room bar, sipping on a martini and catching up on your reading. You're dressed to the nines, that little black dress, those adorable little heels you never have a reason to wear. Hair and make-up immaculate. You are single, you are successful, but you are bored. You want to have a little fun, be a little spontaneous. And just as you're thinking, what could there possibly be to do, what risk could you take, just for that one night that would make you feel alive again. Something exciting, something new.

 And then, just at that moment, a man walks into the bar. He orders himself a cocktail and looks around, catching your eye.  A little smile as his eyes lock on yours. He accepts his drink and decides to take the chance, to walk over to your table for two, occupied only by one. He pauses, takes a breath and asks, "May I join you?"  You nibble your bottom lip, deep in the trance of the potential excitement that is lurking ahead of you.  The two of you make small talk, you laugh a little, and he just keeps staring at you, like you are the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You both know what's happening, and you're convinced this is what you want, what you need to do.  This is that chance that you were asking for to just go for it, to throw caution and proper behavior out the window.  Not forever, just tonight. You're both on the same page, both young and free. So you invite him up to your room, and have an incredible night with this handsome stranger.

Only, here's the kicker. He's not a stranger, and neither of you are single. You're not even there on business. See where this is headed? I bet you do, you're a smart cookie.

That's right, it's your husband/fiance/significant other. It's a game, a role-play for the evening, just a little build up of lust and passion and excitement.  The two of you have rented a room for the night, and you left for the bar a little before he does.  Nobody knows you are together, you never break character, even once back in the room.  For the entire night you are strangers to one another, living only in the moment of bliss and passion and sexuality and lust.

That's my fantasy. That's something I want to do, and that I will do one of these days, if I have to roofie Mark to get him to agree...

Question: What do you want? What's something that's kind of wild, kind of crazy, kind of out-of-the-norm and out-of-the-box that you would love to explore with your lover?

Break that box, guys and gals. Be spontaneous :) and SHARE!!!! Don't leave me hanging here, I want feedback!!!

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As an added bonus, and because I have taken so long to publish this damned post,  I've been doing a little research. Need a little help vamping up your alone time with your significant other? Here's my little compilation from personal experience and the world wide web of little things you can do for yourself (or maybe to yourself?) to bring sexy back into your life!!!

Go to "Bring Your Sexy Back"