And then it happened

Something happened recently.


I’m going to tell you how and what. But first you have to understand I never wanted this to happen. I never imagined I would be “one of those people”.

Everyone told me I would love it. That it would change my life. But I didn’t believe them. I didn’t want to believe them.

Then… One day I broke down and I watched Twilight. My life was changed forever. So I went to Wal Mart and I bought the book. I read it in a few days and my life was changed even more. I had to read the rest of the books. I just had to know if Edward would ever make Bella a vampire.

So I went to my library and I checked out New Moon (book 2 in the series). I’ve started reading it and I feel once again whole.

I know this disappoints some of you and I know that it makes others extremely happy. I’m sorry. But there’s no turning back for me. I am officially a tween. I want Edward to be my boyfriend. I want to be stupid, clumsy Bella. I want it all.

Maria and Mario sittin in a tree...

So now that I’m knocked up, Ghost and I have decided to push up the “getting’ hitched” date. We were planning still on getting married after the previous wedding was postponed for financial reasons, but now we want to do it before the baby comes. I told Ghost that we had to do it soon too because I was not going to be all barefoot and pregnant at the altar. His response? “Sweet, second time I’m marrying a girls who’s knocked up”. Nice.


My co-workers know of a pastor who would do it for free, or we could always have miss JHimitsu come up from the Springs and marry us too. She did get ordained online to do that. Then my co-workers want to throw a big party for us after. But guess what? I can’t drink! FUCK!
But here’s the question I have… What the fuck do I wear? Everything is already getting tight on me and I’m pretty sure I won’t be fitting into my dress. With all the stress I’ve been going through lately, I’ve been a bit of a “midnight snacker”… I could probably wear my slutty Vegas dress that I bought for my bachelorette party. It’s totally Christina Applegate circa Married With Children. It’s short, skin tight turquoise with a zebra print boob area. That would be kinda funny. Especially if I was showing a little. Or I could wear sweats. Cause that’s about all the pants that fit me right now.

So I’m in quite the predicament here…

In other news, my betrothed is now a dirty Mexican gardener. Yep. I got him working as a landscaper for my company. Maria and Mario at your service. Cuttin’ grass and makin’ babies.

Stop tattling!!!

My daughter is the biggest taddle tale on earth. Seriously. It's about to drive me fucking nuts. Someone please tell me this is just a phase? Everything that happens I hear, "Mooooommmmm, The Next Messiah did this..." And it's not even over important shit. It's so fucking retarded.

5 minutes ago after dinner, she comes outside with Ghost and I are smoking and she says, "Um, mom, The Next Messiah is saying potty words". I don't care. Seriously. I don't friggen care.

Just now she says, "Mom, this morning The Next Messiah took a bite of an apple and put it BACK in the fruit bowl". I don't care.

And it's not only with him. She does it with her friends as well. The rule in this house is unless you're bleeding or have a broken limb, I don't want to hear about it. But apparently half eaten apples and potty words are just as bad as open wounds and broken bones.

If this phase doesn't pass soon, I'm going to hang myself.

Another phase I'm greatly looking forward to ending; the competition with the Next Messiah phase. I know that it's just sibling rivalry and whatnot, but seriously...calm down. The Next Messiah is somewhat of an imaginative boy and tends to make shit up. She HAS to ask though if that ACTUALLY happened!!! "Did he really do that???" WHO CARES?!?

Example:

Me: Punk, you have to eat 5 more bites and TNM you have to eat 3.

TNM: hey, she gets more than me. I'm gonna eat 6.

Me: Uhhh, ok.

Punk: Remember, TNM, I'm still older than you.

SERIOUSLY?!?!?

Ninja Mosquito's

I've been a busy beaver lately! I'm like...actually BUSY at my new job. Weirdest thing! Wanna hear about what I do? No? Too bad.

My official title is Maintenance Coordinator Supervisor. Basically, my company manages over 700 rental properties, which means that the owner's of these properties don't want to deal with the day to day happenings and the maintenance when it arises. So my job is for when the tenant's of these properties call in and say, "my swamp cooler is blowing hot air" or "my husband took a gnarly shit and there is crap flowing all over our house". From there I contact the vendors and send them out to take care of the problem. I also go and do inspections when a tenant has moved out of a house and then determine what maintenance needs to be done, and I schedule it with the vendors.

I realize that doesn't sound like a whole lot, and it's really not in that context. But with over 700 properties, we get a lot of calls. Plus, with the economy the way it is, there are a lot of people moving out. So I have no time to do anything. I barely have time to take cigarette breaks and when I do, I get on twitter and facebook on my phone for the most part.

Ghost and I went to the Farmer's Market last Thursday and out for sushi. It was a kid free night thanks to the ex wife :) Then my mom came into town on Friday, so we spent the weekend trying to entertain her as much as possible.

I'm also trying to make some friends. It's so weird to have none here. I meet people and I think to myself, hmmmm, could I be friends with this bitch? Like, can I actually imagine hanging out? Then I meet people who seem super cool and totally my style, but I meet them at a random place like the mall, in a store they work at. How do you approach someone to be friends without coming across as creepy??? It's not like we're in a situation where we're hanging out and then it's like hey, we should hang out.

But I've been talking to this one local girl through Twitter and she seems pretty cool. Ghost has met her before at the "TweetUp" they had here and he liked her. So I invited her over for some beers tomorrow night and she accepted! I don't know that we'll have ANYTHING in common, but doesn't hurt to see, right? So far the only thing I think we have in common is that we're both getting married in Vegas. Her on Valentine's day, and me next month.

Anyway, that's what's been going on with me. Nothing exciting, I know. What can I say? I haven't had sex for like EVER. First I got the zombie bite on my hip and once that was finally at a point where it didn't hurt just to look at it, I got a raging yeast infection from the anti-biotics I was on for the zombie bite. THEN, as soon as that started to subside (yesterday), I started my period. But we're fuckin tonight no matter what. I don't care if we do make a Japanese flag out of our bed sheets. Also? One last thing. I'm being eaten alive by these stealthy little fucking ninja mosquitos. If I don't post for a while, it's because I'm dead. Send help.

Talk Dirty to Me (Please?)

Hello all,

This is the Hooker's highly anonymous friend, hijacking her blog, because I'm too much of a pussy to write about anything related to S-E-X on my own site. Please enjoy my TMI anecdote, and thanks to DPH for letting me use her blog!

So the husband and I are watching TV last night, and the theme of the night seems to be dirty talk. Two different comedians bring it up in their routines on the comedy show we watch first. These male comedians are making fun of women who can’t do it, saying, “Just go into a quiet room, and think about all the dirtiest, most depraved shit you can think of. Then say that.” Then we watch Katie Morgan’s show on HBO, and she’s giving advice on how to talk dirty in bed (DO keep it simple: “Oooh, that feels good.” DON’T lie: “Your cock is so big it’s going to rip me in half!” Maybe just tell him what you’d like him to do.)

We get 5 minutes to ourselves today, and run up to the Palace O’Love (the bedroom). And I’m trying to think of how I can incorporate last night’s education. I’m not a good dirty talker. It sounds good when I see it on a porno, but coming out of my mouth, it ends up sounding mildly retarded.

“Oooh, honey, it’s so….I mean, you’re the best… Slow down or you’re going to….Oh fuck this shit, I’m no good at dirty talk.”

And then, I get an idea. An idea so brilliant it may have transformed the way we have sex for years to come.

I tell him what I don’t want.

“Oh, god, I don’t want you to pull my hair, slap my face and call me a little bitch! Don’t you dare stick it in my ass until my intestines collapse! I don’t want you to put your fist up me and use me like a hand puppet! Please, don’t invite a group of big-titted midgets in here to lick your nuts while I ride you like a cowgirl on ecstasy!” And so on.

He manages to edit out the “don’ts”.

I’m not embarrassed, because I’m a respectable (?) girl, who doesn’t want to do those things.

And it makes him cum like a god damned fire hydrant.

Some days, I’m kind of fucking brilliant.