Mood:  irritated

Grrr! Again!

Sometimes I can't STAND my mother's side of the family. Dear lord, I love them with my entire being, but I am no one's puppet! I'm not even mad at them, just irritated that we keep going over the same shit again and again!

To my family: (as if they'd read this, except for my aunts and siblings)

I understand that you want me to be happy, okay? I truly do, and I appreciate it. But what y'all have to understand is that I *am* happy! Completely, totally, butt-fuckingly happy! What makes me happy and what y'all think constitutes happiness is two different things! I do not WANT to get married. That's why I don't date! I am not interested in finding a special someone. I'm interested in travel, money and clothes. I am interested in seeing amazing things, and taking care of my patients. Having a family is not something I want at this time. So quit giving me shit!

Mom: I'm not a lesbian. Quit fuckin' asking me that. I don't mention any guys to you because there's nothing to mention. (Plus I never remember their names.) But if you want, the next time I proposition someone for sex in whatever biker bar I'm in, I'll be sure to let you know.

Grandma: Grandma, grandma, grandma. I'm not my mom. You can not manipulate me the way you do her, so please stop trying. I am as strong-willed and stubborn as you are, and I do not take kindly to your 'suggestions.' I also don't need to explain myself to you. If I say 'no' or 'I'm not interested,' then that's what the fuck I mean! Quit pushing! Believe it or not, I don't like fighting with you. Our conversations turn into screaming matches, and I'm tired of it. You're getting too old to be stressed out in such a manner. I don't want you to have a stroke arguing with me.

Grandpa: I won't take prisoners, and I won't ask you to choose. I have no right. You are on Grandma's side, and that's fine. That's the way it should be. But you will also suffer the same consequences because you won't speak up! Either tell me to piss off or be on my side. Stop the double agent bullshit!

Aunt Denise: Shut up. What you have to say is insignificant.

Aunt Gwen: Do you have any crock-pot recipes?

Brother: I still haven't made up my mind. Should I get the Xbox or PS3?

Sister: I farted in the frig yesterday. Dad was so pissed. Everybody says hi, by the way, and to hurry up and visit.

Brother-in-law: I double dog dare you to fart in the frig. How'd you find my site anyway?

Gosh, I never realized how theraputic this blog is. It's amazing what I can get out when I'm not screaming into a phone.

Food! Gotta go!

Mood:  irritated

Grrr!

First off, my sister is doing very well. She had to have her pregnancy terminated last Monday, and is so far adjusting to everything as far as I can tell. However, when she's around other people, my mother reports that she won't look anyone in the face or eye. I know my mother though. She makes things out to be more than they are, so I called my sister and confronted her about it. My sister wants to be left alone, it seems. She just won't tell anyone to piss off and get the hell outta her house. It's unfortunate that I'm not there. I have no problem doing that.

God, I'm in such a pissy mood! Gah!

I just got off the phone with one of my cousins, and I'm just so irrirtated because... I miss him!

I have four first cousins, and when we were kids, them, my siblings and I all hung out together damn near daily. When my parents got divorced I was 14, and my mother moved us with her to Texas, where we lived for 12 years without speaking to them. (Except for my oldest cousin. We were always the closest, and he and I managed to keep in touch in spite.) In July of 2006 my sister and I came up to Chicago on a whim to just see everybody, and that reopened a door I hadn't realize hadn't been all the way closed. I didn't know my cousins missed me the way I missed them, or thought about me as much as I thought about them.

But the problem was was that we were now all strangers to each other, and that HURTS. We're all adults and have our own lives, so I understand that there will be some distance between us. That's just life. But this feels like we're starting over, or meeting for the first time. It also kills me because over the years I've had an image in my mind of how they were and what they're like, and it pains me that my image was so far from the truth.

Back to what prompted this... I just got off the phone with my cousin, and I'm upset because conversation between us is always strained. It's like we want to get to know each other, we want that connection back, but there's something in our way that I can't see! We're so uncomfortable around each other, and it bugs the living hell outta me. My other cousins and I can yap all day, or just sit in silence and be okay. He and I aren't like that for some reason, and it frustrates me (as if you couldn't tell).

I don't handle emotions well. I don't like drama or negative excitement. I don't have the patience or tolerance for it. I am quick to anger and even quicker to violence. Frustration is just as bad for me. I want that relationship with my cousin, I really do. But if it means that this is what it would be like for us, then I'd rather not try anymore. I will always love him. As long as he understands that, I'll be happy.

Mood:  down

Hey y'all.

Well, life is certainly a bitch. I tried to put this up last week but I couldn't. I was too devastated.

We found out last Tuesday that there was a problem with the fetus. She (we're pretty sure the fetus is a girl) has what is called acrania, meaning there is no skull. The baby has a face, but from the eyebrows upward there's nothing. This condition is fatal, and the pregnancy will have to be terminated. Not doing so will risk my sister into either having a miscarriage, or outright killing her from an infection, likely septicemia.

I can not imagine how my sister feels. I remember hearing how when people hear bad news, it would feel like they were socked in the stomach or something like that. I remember being in my apartment, grabbing at my chest because I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was slowly suffocating, and anything that I did would only delay the inevitable. Looking back though, I probably WAS suffocating. I was so devastated I wanted to die, and was quite willing to. I even had the sick thought that I could save the baby by dying. I almost wish that was the case. If my death would've given my niece life, I would've dropped dead that instant.

I just couldn't believe this was happening. I still feel that way sometimes. But my sister... this is their first child, and for something this horrible to have happened, I'm afraid that they may be unwilling to try again. I'm also afraid for everyone else. We were all so hurt by the news, I don't think anyone's heart can take it if something else happens to the next baby.

I just wish I could help! I've never felt so helpless in my life. Whenever my sister had a problem, I'd either give her the money or beat the shit outta the person giving her the problem. There was nothing or no one to fight this time. I'm a medical person. I understand that things like this happen. But now I get it. When it's one of your own, you take it like a personal failure. I kept thinking 'if I had been there,' or 'if I had prayed harder or had gone to church' and yadda yadda yadda. But the truth is, this would've still happened. It's just one of those things.

Well, I'ma go eat something. I is hungry. Oh! I finished my contract for Denver on Feb. 23rd, and now I'm just hanging out in Chicago, visiting my dad until I get another job. God, I SO don't want to be bothered with this shit.

Later.

Mood:  chillin'

Last night was an interesting night for me.

First off my two friends and I went to Macaroni Grill. What was fun about this restaurant was that they covered their tables with two large sheets of paper that acted as a table cloth, but they also supplied crayons. Well, since my friends and I are about as mature as five-year-olds, we had a good time writing and drawing on our table. Things from 'Our waiter is hot' to 'I'm a pervert' and 'I love bananas' (which were some of the things I wrote) entertained our waiter tremendously. It didn't help that our waiter was sooooo cute, and even went so far as to lie to the host that it was my birthday so that we could get our cake for free.

Before we left I wrote my phone number on the table as well.

Now, I don't know how this happened, but for some reason we got the idea to go to some gay male bars. My dear friend who's a travel tech, he's gay. My other friend who I met on this contract, she's straight and as nutty as me. Since we're all from Texas, we like to get together and do shit the Texan way, which means we're just the loudest and most annoying.

Anyhoo, the first place we went to was this gay strip bar called 'Boyz Town.' It was kind of lame looking as far as bars went, and small. But since the drinks were very, very good, I soon didn't give a shit.

Then I guess around ten the strippers started coming out, and that was when I learned something very strange about me. Even though I write yaoi, and can't really stand hetero relationships between anime characters, when it comes to seeing two men kiss or something along those lines... it bothers me. I just can't tolerate it. But when this one stripper was on stage, and this older man went to him to put money in his g-string... the customer embraced the stripper in a way that was sensual, conveyed desire, but was respectful.

The whole scene turned me on.

I damn near fell off my stool. I was SO fuckin' turned on! How the hell did I go from cringing to salivating? I think it was their appearance, in all honesty. The customer was older but tall, good looking, and built. The stripper was VERY nicely toned, but slim. Maybe it was the contrast that worked for me? The idea of two burly, hairy guys going at it makes me want to run away screaming in terror. But to see those two together was a sight for sore, bleeding eyes.

After that, my friends dragged me away to the gay club a couple of doors down, where I fell in love with the atmosphere right when I walked in.

I know you can't group all people into a single category, but I felt last night like all gay men were wonderful. My female friend and I were slightly nervous because we were the only women there (there were quite a few women at the strip club), but the guys were all over us, telling us how gorgeous we were and to come in and dance with them and blah blah blah. The bartenders were gorgeous (which made me hate them), but were such jewels that I couldn't help but adore them. One had taken his shirt off, and he was really, really built, but covered in tattoos. The tattoos were incredible, and he got a kick outta me staring at him all night.

Thankfully, we only had one incident happen to us this time, and considering how wild we are I'm counting it a blessing. My gay friend, Cole, always stradles me and pushes his crotch in my face when I'm drinking because he knows it pisses me off. Well, this other guy saw him do that, and I cringed when I saw the way his eyes raked up and down his body. I tried to get Cole's attention to tell him to 'get the fuck off me before you get raped.' He turned to the guy, said something, then the guy just... grabbed my friend's ass! That fucker! Instead of bashing my glass over his head like I wanted to, Cole just grabbed me and Lee Ann (my other friend) and we went to the other side of the bar. About 15 minutes later that guy got kicked out. Thank God.

What was really weird to me, was that everybody checks everybody out... I just couldn't tell WHO. In any other club, I know that 'hey, he's checking me out' or 'why the hell does he want HER when he could be with ME.' When I was sitting at the bar, this guy, cute as he wanted to be, was looking in my direction. But there was this other really, really cute guy sitting me to me, drinking too. I started to wink at him when I thought, 'Wait, this is a gay bar. Is he looking at me or at him?' Unable to figure this out, I just said 'fuck it' and finished my drink in silence.

What was also weird was that people I would never expect to be gay, were. There were these big, buff guys there that looked like they shit turds bigger than me, with their arms wrapped around their tiny boyfriends. Then there were this mousy guys that were as straight as an arrow that only stopped by to hit on fag-hags and get cheap drinks.

All in all, I had a good time and really want to go back. Especially to see Dante, who was my favorite stripper. ~__^

Mood:  caffeinated

Hey all! Don't mind me, I just feel like babbling.

First off, my sister is nine weeks now, and her due date is August 24th. That's seven months away, and the wait is driving me crazy! I am SO excited that I've been an unbearable pain in the ass since I've found out. Note to my Aunt Denise: quit giving her shit about her diet. She eats alot of fruits and vegetables as it is. If she wants a burger she can have a god damn burger. We both know you don't want me flying down there. Our 'talk' will be very unpleasant if I do.

Secondly, I don't know what it is about Denver that's making me a budding alcoholic. Maybe it's because my friends and I all got stationed in the same apartment complex, but just about every night we hit some bar and get Messed Up. I went from having maybe four or five drinks a year to that many in an hour. I've been here for nine weeks now, and so far I've spent only two weekends sober. Two! I don't hold out much hope for me. This morning I started my day out with a glass of cherry coke and Sailor Jerry's Spiced Rum. Some nurse I am, getting up at 8 in the morning and going for that instead of coffee or juice. I'll just say it's for medicinal purposes. Actually, that ain't too far from the truth.

I don't know what my best friend is doing with the house. Actually, I don't give a shit anymore. If she sells it or rents it, fine. If she sets it on fire and burns it down, fine. You know, I'm going to talk about that real quick.

When I make friends, the few I have I know we'll be friends for the rest of my life. We may not speak often, but if they ever called me up and asked for something, I'd do my damn best to make sure they'd get it. My best friend and I were beyond that. It got to the point where we didn't even speak anymore. One look in her eyes was a whole conversation between us. Words weren't needed. I guess I'm just frustrated now because our relationship has changed so drastically, and not for the better. We hardly talk and when we do, I catch myself putting her down. I don't want to do that. I just can't understand how she feels. I've loved people that I've met, and do love people that I meet. I've just never been IN love with someone. I can't imagine being willing to do anything for someone that wasn't a family member or a dear, dear friend. It bites that she is turning herself inside out for this guy, but yet I don't see the same determination from him. There IS such a thing as 'not enough love.' He doesn't love her enough to do what he should do. And I don't know if maybe she's so blinded by her feelings, or that she wants this so bad, that she's forcing this. Their relationship can't work. It just can't! I don't know how else to tell her besides just telling her so. But that didn't work. *shrugs*

Thirdly, I went to my boss's house last Saturday for a party. (I adore my boss. He's fuckin' awesome.) During the party, some punks went down the line and went into all of the unlocked cars, which was basically everyone there. That wasn't the funny part though...

They were the worst thieves on the planet, I swear to God!

One coworker lost, like, five dollars in change that she had in the console. Mine was the worst I think. They stole my iPod... which was broken.

Let me make a list of shit I had in my car:

- a pair of $200 sunglasses, which weren't stolen

- a GPS of $600 value, which wasn't stolen

- thirty CD's in the back seat, and I'm not missing ONE

- a $30 metal and wooden butterfly knife, which wasn't stolen

- two car chargers, which were right where I left them

- a pair of New Balance shoes, which were $100, and not stolen

- my iPod stand, which I use to play my iPod in the car, which cost me over $100, which wasn't stolen

- the headphones to my iPod, and my iPod charger, which weren't stolen

- $2.46 in change, which wasn't stolen

- they found my chap stick for me, valued at 99 cents

- an lime green iPod where the click wheel, the center, and the screen didn't work, STOLEN

The only thing that really pissed me off was that they made a mess. I got in the car and all of my shit from my console and glove compartment was scattered all over the floor. Typically, I am a very neat and orderly person. I don't like stuff scattered everywhere, especially on the floor where my snow-covered and gooseshit-covered feet were. Makes me crabby.

I had a good time at the party though. It's where I met Sailor Jerry.

Well, that's all I can remember right now. Time for lunch!

Later!

Mood:  celebratory

At 10:39 am today I got the most wonderful text message from my sister. It said, "Hey auntie kk!" (KK has been my nickname from, like, birth.)

Now, I'm the oldest sibling. I have a 24 year old sister and a 20 year old brother. At first, I went, "Auntie? I don't have a niece or nephew..." Then I remembered a conversation my sister and I had right before Thanksgiving, about how she and her husband were thinking of starting a family. In a fit of hope, I left my patients (this was in the middle of shift change, where patients are coming off and being put on), called my sister and had her confirm that--YES!--she was pregnant!!

I started bawling my eyes out in the middle of the nurse's station, and I didn't give a fuck who saw me. I then announced to my patients and staff that I was going to be an aunt! Several times. I don't know how far along my sister is and all that jazz. We couldn't talk long and I couldn't hear her over my bawling anyway. She can't be more than six weeks though, by my guess.

God. I've been waiting four years for those words. Four--fucking--years. And now that I've heard them, it feels like it's been no time at all. Shit. I'm getting tears all over my keyboard.

God. How do you mothers do it? I feel like life is starting anew, and I'm not the one with a life inside of me! I feel so joyous and refreshed. Christ, I'm already in love with this child. I don't know the sex or the name or when he or she will be born, but I will defend them with my life. How can you love someone you've yet to meet? It doesn't sound possible, but that's exactly how I feel.

Lord, I'm about to explode with happiness! I'd never thought I'd feel like such a hippie! It's wonderful! Life is wonderful!

It feels good to fall in love with life again.

Mood:  a-ok

Hey all!

I'm in Denver, Colorado! Whoo! It's beautiful here! I love that as I drive down Mississippi Ave, my view is the Rocky mountains. It makes me want to drive and drive until I bump into them. I only have one problem here though.

I can't breathe!

Jesus Christ! This city has definitely earned its 'Mile High' reputation. My apartment is on the third floor. By the time I made it up I thought my lungs were going to explode. My brother didn't even make it that far. He sat on the steps between the second and third floor until he felt like he could breathe. Even when I was in bed last night, I felt like I *still* couldn't catch my breath. It doesn't help that I'm sick, and what oxygen I could be getting is getting caught in snot. We went to Beningans for dinner last night, and I thought I was going to faint when I stepped up in the booth! The table next to us had a guy who was on oxygen for his lung disease. He didn't know how much danger he was in. My brother and I were discussing how we could club him and his wife over the head and make off with the oxygen tank. The waiter (who overheard us) told us that even if we did get the tank, we'd probably pass out trying to make our escape. He was right, so my sibling and I just had to suffer.

So, anyone know any hotspots in Colorado? Know where I could learn to snowboard/get snowboarding lessons? Know of any oxygen bars? My forehead is going to pop off, I swear.

Mood:  down

Okay guys, this is a long one. If I were you, I'd put a load of laundry in or put dinner in the oven. This is gonna be a while.

I know I haven't updated in a while, and frankly I probably won't until Christmas. Right now some frustrating things are turning my world upside down, and in all honesty I'd rather beat the hell out of a kitten than deal with it.

First thing is this: I am the maid of honor in my best friend's wedding. Problem? There's no wedding.

My best friend's fiancee is from Liberia. My friend is American. He's Muslim, she's Baptist. I didn't think such differences would be problematic. I was wrong.

Here's the story: The problem everyone has with the groom is that we feel he and my best friend are not an equal match. I don't want to be a snotty bitch and say he's not good enough because he doesn't make the kind of money my friend or I do. That's not right. But what upsets me is the fact that the difference in their salaries is so immense, it's horrifying, and he takes advantage of it. (She makes 60+ a year, he makes 29). She pays for everything! She pays for his plane tickets when he visits, (he lives in Philidelphia, we live in San Antonio, they met online), she pays for his sister's plane tickets, she bought and pays for his cell phone, she gives him money for food and rent... it's ridiculous! It pisses me the fuck off that she does this for a man! Now, I'm all about helping a man in need. If a male friend of mine or my brother ever needed money, I'd be more than happy to give them however much they needed. But THIS bullshit? No way. She's not marrying a man, she's adopting a child. I can't stand men that need their hand held. He is a Pussy with a capital P.

Anyway, the wedding was supposed to be on November tenth. Now, the groom's (we'll call him Douchebag) sister died around October 15th or so. Horrible, yes. We were all upset. But because of the death, Douchebag says that according to their customs, they have a 40 day mourning period. So, he said, because of the mourning period, the wedding had to be canceled.

So guess what? He canceled the wedding.

I know I'm an asshole, okay? But when everyone reacted the same way I did, I felt better. (Which was to get pissed and call him names.) My friend (we'll call her Doormat) has spent over ten thousand dollars for this wedding. How much has Douchebag contributed? NONE. Not ONE god damn penny. But yet HE cancels the wedding, and further insults us by saying 'Americans will jump over their dead to marry because of money' or something along those lines. Nevermind the fact that everyone paid for their tickets, their hotel rooms, the gifts, the time off work... fuck them. Nevermind that this was the third time the date of the wedding was changed because of HIM. Nevermind money contributed by me and Doormat's parents to GET this wedding paid for. Nevermind that I've spent three months working in Texas, where I never wanted to work AGAIN mind you, so that I could be close to help with the wedding. Fuck us, really.

I'm pissed frankly, and it gets worse. Doormat is OKAY with it, saying that 'Why would I want him sad on my wedding day?' She's right of course, and in a rare moment of forgiveness (for me) I said 'you know, you're right.' And I dropped it. But then this weekend I had another ugly surprise.

My best friend is going to sell the house.

I almost burst into tears. I really did. We went through so much hell to get this house, we really did. Now she's going to sell it to move up to Philidelphia. The original plan was for him to move down to Texas, since she already had a house, a fantastic job, insurance, benefits, all that, NONE of which he has. But he's been whining that he didn't want to move to Texas because 'it's too hot,' and 'my mother-in-law will be all in my business.' (Which is true, but that's beside the point.) Now, Liberia is a third world country. If he can survive that, he can handle a little heat. Anyway, because of the housing taxes and maintenance, she doesn't want the house anymore. I have no intention to remain in Texas anyway. Hell, I haven't lived here in a year so I certainly didn't want the house. So I said 'okay.' My next contract starts November 26 in Denver, Colorado. That gives me a week to pack all my shit, sell/give my furniture away and put my shit in storage. I don't need enemies. My friends are bad enough.

I guess what really frustrates me the most about this is that all of us think this is a mistake except for her. She's in love with him, and she says he's in love with her, but I don't see it. He is SO inconsiderate of her, you know? She pays for his hotel room, yet he bitches about it because it's at a Best Western and not a Marriot. He raised high holy hell with her because she bought an expensive engagement ring for herself, and HIS engagement ring, which SHE paid for, was only a couple hundred dollars. He wants her to make him something to eat at 10 at night, nevermind that she has to BE at work at 5 in the morning. He wanted HER to pay for HIS tuition if he started school, and wanted her to support him while he was in school. I used to chew his ass out royally when he would call at 1 in the morning. She is such a hard sleeper she never head the phone ring. I would have to get out of bed, take 10 minutes to wake HER up, then go back to bed and be up in three hours for work. Fuck that, I wasn't doing it. She's visiting him in Philidelphia right now. She's been there a week, and everyday she's called me complaining/crying because of something he did to upset her. It pisses me off that she tolerates this bullshit. And this is the tip of the iceberg. If I tried to put down every last thing, I'd still be typing this at Christmas.

Guys, I'm not kidding, this marriage is NOT going to work. It can't. She has been given so many red flags that I know she is doing this deliberately. I swear to ya'll, some of those warnings have been sent by God himself, and she STILL is trying to force this to happen. Even when the groom's sister died, the tuxes had not been ordered for him or the rest of the groomsmen, he hadn't given his notice to his apartment, he didn't apply for any jobs in San Antonio, he hadn't picked a date of when he was going to move... nothing! He behaved as if this life-altering event wasn't even happening to him. I honestly thought that on the day of the wedding, he was going to stand her up. I STILL think that. They rescheduled the wedding for April 26th. And if he does stand her up, she has no way of recouping the money she spent on all of this. He ain't got shit to take! She may as well have wiped her ass with the money and flushed it down the toilet!

I don't understand why she's allowing this. I wouldn't tolerate my man waking me up at all hours of the night just to entertain himself. I wouldn't tolerate him totally disregarding my finances because I'm a nurse. I wouldn't tolerate him demanding I pay for plane tickets for HIS relatives, or making messes in my house and expecting me to clean them up when I get home from work. I don't get it. She's a very pretty, strong-willed, smart woman. She can do so much better it's pathetic. It just burns me up.

I guess that's why I don't want to get married.  I wouldn't want to be so enthralled with a person that I'll tolerate anything and run myself to ruin to please them. My parents did that, my friends have done that, my uncle did it, twice, and my grandparents almost did that. And unfortunately, another one will be added to the list.

Well, thanks everyone. I'm not sad anymore. Now I'm pissed all over again. But I'd rather be pissed than sad. All day today I was feeling so melancholy, that I didn't get much of anything done. I couldn't help myself. It just feels like something is coming to an end, where there won't be a new beginning. And I feel that what's ending is how our friendship used to be. It truly breaks my heart. We used to be so close we were nearly one. Now, I can barely keep my contempt out of my voice when I speak to her, and vice versa. After all the shit we've gone through, it turns out that a guy has gotten between us, something we never thought would happen. I can't stand his punk ass to the point where if the only way I could spend time with her was with him also, I'd never see her again. My travel nursing schedule for the new year is going to be intense. I won't be able to give her the support she'll need, because I'll be all over the place. And for 2009, I really, really want to do travel nursing in the UK, and then later Australia.

In the years to come I know she'll need help, because she will have married a leech. I also know I'll be unable to help her because I won't be there, in body or in spirit.

Mood:  lucky

Wednesday of last week I woke up at 1:30 in the morning in excruciating pain from my left bottom wisdom tooth. I've had pain in my wisdom teeth from time to time for the last five years, but they've always been tolerable and never lasted more than two weeks. But THIS shit was unreal. It was only my third day at the new job so I went, and swallowed Tylenol and peppermints (peppermints always make me feel better; I could lose a leg and I'll want a peppermint), and did what I had to do. But that evening the pain got so intense I couldn't take it. I drove the 2 1/2 hours to San Antonio that night, and called a dentist first thing in the morning. When he took the x-rays he told me that not only was my left tooth impacted like all hell, that so was my right (which I knew, because it was hurting me back in April) and my wisdom teeth on top had actually punctured through, which wasn't good. The ones on top were cutting into my cuts, infecting them. THAT made so much sense. When I brush my teeth they always bleed, but I thought it was from my gums. Whoops. The right bottom tooth was also draining (meaning infected) so I was prescribed antibiotics and vicodin.

This lasted thru the weekend, but the pain was fuckin' unreal. It was like my body said 'yes, we know you're contemplating suicide, but we're still going to get this tooth out.' Sunday night I was so delirious from the pain, my mom made an apointment with another doctor about my teeth, the one that removed hers. When I saw him yesterday, he took one look and said 'no way.' The impactions were so bad he said an oral surgeon was the only one that *could* do it. They immediately sent me to an oral surgeon, and two hours later I was short four teeth.

I don't remember much of anything from yesterday, because I was stoned to the gills. But when I woke this morning, I felt incredible. I don't have any pain in my mouth despite not taking any pain medication (the pain nerves are probably dead by now), I could almost talk normally, and the infection, once the tooth came out, went away immediately. I was probably getting septic and didn't know it. Anyway, my mouth hasn't felt this good since I don't know when, and it's not even twenty four hours post surgery.

Guys, don't fuck around with your teeth. If you think your wisdom teeth or anything are acting up, yank those puppies out. This was one hell of a painful lesson to learn. I couldn't go thru this shit again.

Best yet was my family. There were there for me in ways that I have never been for them. It took everything I had not to start bawling in gratitude this morning. I wish I had something to give them that could equal the value of all they've done for me, but I know I never could. It would never be enough.

Mood:  down

I'm up and running. I bought that Sprint wireless card that can be used anywhere where there's Sprint coverage. Thank God. The thought that I could go practically anywhere and still have I-Net service is damn near making me cream my pants. Now, on to other news...

I HATE my apartment.

I knew right when I drove up that the shit wasn't going to work. It didn't look exactly ratty, but it had the appearance of a place that was falling apart and being cleverly glued back together. You couldn't see the loose screws, but you knew they were there. Know what I mean?

The furnishings are outstanding, the best I've had yet actually. But the AC is not working too good. My apartment is cooler than outside, but still pretty warm on the inside. The carpet is so stained it disgusts the hell outta me, and the humidity is making the carpet moist. That is disgusting the hell outta me too. I refuse to take my shoes off. It's also giving off this... odor. I hate stinky smells, because I'm around them all day. Having to deal with it here too is just too much.

I've had to fix the toilet, twice.

The stove is missing an eye.

The sink and tub are stained with rust, badly. At least, I hope it's rust.

The cabinet doors are slightly warped.

I don't have a microwave. At all. I even checked the closet.

I have stains in my bedroom that appear to have come from a dog's end as he scooted it across the carpet.

There was a dead roach that greeted me when I came in. I hate hate HATE roaches.

The ceiling fan is swinging so bad that I'm afraid it's going to fall off and hit me in the head.

I'm not willing to think on it more. It has been so frustrating, that I'm tempted to call my recruiter and tell her that I quit. But I think about all that I have accomplished so far, and how unhappy I would be going back home. It's not where I want to be. I love traveling, I'm just not happy with this contract. I don't want to be bothered, but I need the money.

What's really pissing me off is that one of my traveler buddies got a gig in Denver, Colorado. I was so jealous when he told me I'm surprised he didn't burst into flames over the phone. I hated him very much at that moment. But I threatened to visit him, and he threatened me that I'd better, so I feel a little bit better about it now.

Well, I'm going to read for a bit. I'm so pissed I'm getting a migraine. Lord, guide me through this before I blow up this city.