Randomness Version 2.0

It’s that time again, my friends! Time…for some randomness.

  -  I have no idea how Twitter works. I mean, I’ve tried…maybe not hard enough…but I HAVE tried to figure it out. I just don’t get all the hype about it. Isn’t the Facebook status enough? I’m not being sarcastic…I really want to know. I’m not quite sure why there are so many different abbreviations and something with the # sign at the end of things. I guess I shouldn’t knock it too much because when I had JUST a MySpace, I couldn’t understand why people were flocking to Facebook. And now that I have a Facebook, I can’t imagine ever using MySpace again. But Twitter…for some reason I just can’t get into it. There needs to be a “Twitter For Dummies” or something.

  -  Some people seriously shock me. There are times when I just sit and stare and want to blurt out, “Are you SERIOUSLY an adult??” I mean, people act crazy sometimes. I’m sure I do, too…on occasion…but really?? Is it REALLY necessary to sit and complain ALL the time? The worst ones are the ones who complain about the stupidest crap I’ve ever heard of. It’s so much worse since Mom died. I just want to say, “Really? You’re crying tears in your fifth alcoholic beverage because your favorite soap opera character got kicked off the show? Well…my momma died. I win.” Sure, it’d be easy for me to drown my sorrows in booze or start popping pain pills again. But, I don’t. One reason…I know that once I get sober…again…I’ll have to face the same exact situation that I tried to block out with other things. Another reason…and this is a big one…I’M A FREAKIN’ GROWN UP!!! I really do try and put myself in other people’s shoes. But sometimes, it amazes me that certain people realize that there are OTHER people in the world other than themselves. Thank the Good Lord that I rarely have to deal with these kinds of people. I think I might just go crazy if I had to deal with it on a regular basis!

  -  I love for my home to be really clean, but comfy and cozy at the same time. I’ve lived on my own since I was sixteen, and I can proudly say that every place I’ve ever had, I’ve always been able to have people over who would brag about how great they felt in my house. Technically, I’m still the kind of person who loves to keep the house clean and comfy. However, I have an abundance of animals in my house…especially since “inheriting” my mom’s 3 cats as well. It’s incredibly difficult to have a clean and comfy home when said home smells like a giant litter box. Add to that the stress of having your mom/best friend die…you really don’t feel like cleaning. So…my spirit isn’t really “right” at the moment. My house resembles the wreckage after a hurricane…or one of those houses on Animal Hoarding. Ok…maybe not THAT bad…but it’s wayyyy past the point of where I’m comfortable having people over. I’m hoping I can get this place back to where I want it to be before Thanksgiving. Then, I can give thanks for a house that truly feels like a home.

  -  I have purchased a Sleep Number bed. It will be here in a couple of days. I’m somewhat conflicted about this purchase. First, I’m thrilled that G and I will FINALLY be able to sleep in the same bed…in the same ROOM…because we’ll both be able to pick what firmness we want for our sides. Also, I really need to quit smoking. Since I’ve been sleeping in the living room, I’ve stayed up half the night just puffing away. With the new bed, I won’t be ABLE to stay up smoking because I’ll be right next to my non-smoking hubby-to-be. I’m hoping that the change in routine will help me quit. At the same time, I am a creature of habit. I happen to love living in my “comfort zone” be it a good or not-so-good one. I love sitting up, watching the same Harry Potter movies over and over, typing (mostly) nonsensical blog posts, smoking cigarettes, drinking Mello Yello, and eating roasted in-shell peanuts. Yep. That’s my routine…and I love it. So, it’ll be a bit difficult to let go of that, but I know it’ll be well worth it. Not to mention…sleeping in the same bed with the man who is trying to knock me up can only HELP the baby-making process, right? Right!

 -  I used to REALLY want a motorcycle. A Harley-Davidson Sportster 883 Hugger to be exact. I used to imagine flying down the road wearing a men’s white undershirt, tight leather pants (yeah…this was back when leather pants were the hot thing…give me a break), and black motorcycle boots. My super long, blonde hair would be all tucked up under my black full-faced helmet. I’d pull up to the Harley outlet where all the stereotypical Hog riders would be gathered, swing my long leg over the bike, rip my helmet off, shake my luscious hair out, put on my aviator sunglasses, and stride past them while they all checked out my rockin’ bod and firm booty. There were several problems with this fantasy. One: I was fat. Two: I had mousy brown hair that was cut to my chin. Three: leather pants + fat legs and butt = lots of chafing. And four: I didn’t have the money or the know-how to purchase a Sportster in the first place. But MAN was it a great fantasy to have!

  -  I’ve spent the past hour or so reading all the posts from when Mom was in the hospital…until after her “Celebration”. This is the first time I’ve sat and read everything in order. Gosh…it seemed like it happened just SO fast. It seems like one minute, she was rejoicing with me over the doctor giving me the “green light” to start trying to have a baby…then the next minute, the doctor was telling me she only had days to live. I remember telling that doctor, “I’m not five years old. I’ve fought by her side for the past eight years. Please don’t bullshit me or walk on eggshells. Just tell me.” The doc looked me right in my eyes and said, “OK. She only has a week or two…but that’s being optimistic. More than likely, she’ll be gone in a few days.” I remember feeling like someone had sucker punched me in the gut. I keep going back and forth about it…but right this very second…as I’m writing this…I’m glad the doctor was “real” with me about it.

  -  The absence of Mom being gone is just getting sharper as time goes by. Tonight, as I was saying goodnight to my hubs-to-be, I said, “I really miss my momma.” And he leaned in to hug me and whispered, “I really miss her, too.” It occurred to me then, that I sometimes forget that everyone else lost her, too. I should be more sensitive to that fact. I haven’t been very supportive to anyone else who has lost her, and I’m sorry for that. I would say that I’ll be better about it, but right now, I’m struggling just to keep breathing. I hope, though, that the people who loved my mother know that I do realize that they lost her, too. I always tried to tell her how many people she had touched. I tried to show her by making three huge letter books for her. She never did quite understand what she “did” to make everyone love her so much. There were no words in my vocabulary to describe to her the pure “essence” of her spirit that she gave to everyone she came into contact with. I hope and pray that she sees it now. Thank you…all of you…who loved her.