selfish bitchesss.

Ok, the title, please say it like you are a very homosexual male who just bought the newest Coach scarf before anyone else and has a ton of admiring women looking at him. Please. Thats how I meant it.

So I've talked about her before, and now more of the drama. The drama never ends. Part of me, the super girly-still in high school mode, part of me loves to hear all of this. But this has gone far enough. No, writing a blog about it will not solve the situation, however....its my outlet. so if you don't like it, leave me alone.

My aforementioned idiot of a friend has pushed herself off the deep end of the crazy-mofo pool. To sum it up, she does not have children because she's a self centered nincompoop who wants nothing more than to party and be irresponsible.

I understand you were pregnant at 16 and lost your childhood. But that was your decision...don't take it out on your children.

Anyways, she's completely lost her ever loving mind. She basically doesn't want to do what she needs to do to give her children the things they want and need and thinks that someone else, her own mother, can do that. and yes, her mother is more than capable of being a wonderful mother and I know that those kids are in amazing hands...but. She's all ready raised her children (and in fact is still raising some.) so why should she have to raise yours too? Why can't you grow up and do whats best for your kids? We all know the only reason you took any classes at all was so that you'd have health insurance because you are a hypochondriac and freak out about the stupidest crap. So college obviously wasn't what you wanted. You've had 500 waitressing jobs at various bars and restaurants. You colored your hair blonde so that you'd be able to get a waitressing job...pathetic. Then you get it...and you "get sick" or "go on vacation" for MONTHS at a time. Then when you're ready to go back you wonder why they won't give you any hours. You stupid turtle (not my original choice of word), you basically quit your job.

You are being reckless. And yes, for any other 21 year old, this is semi-acceptable. However, you are a mother of 2. Grow a pair. Man up. Grow up. Raise your own damn kids and stop relying on everyone else to do everything for you. You've had it way too easy. I hope its not that easy when I have kids. Whats parenting without struggle? Without suffering? Without sacrifice? Thats what its really about. Seeing just how much you love these little munchkins, then seeing them love you in return. (its more than that, but for the time being, we'll stick with this one).

Ashley, I never want to talk to you again. I never want to be your friend ever again. You are a selfish coward. You've been given everything, everything you could possibly want or need...and yet you still take it all for granted. I hope you see them suffering. I hope you feel it too. I hope it eats you away until you realized how fudging ridiculous you're being. I don't want to speak to you, so I hope you read this blog. I hope it hurts. I hope your friends see this. I hope you know one day how I really feel. I'd tell you in person, but I'd be afraid of the repercussion of that conversation and what may follow.

Have fun being 21. Have fun. Because while you're out there living it up and drinking and doing God knows what else, your children...YOUR children are needing you. Congrats. Mom of the year.

So, I'm thinking about taking sign language classes in the fall. Sounds fun, no?

Sorry for any offensive language.

Peaceout cub scout.

Yadda Yadda Yadda

I always wind up on here at 11:40 pm every night. And I always tell myself, "its too late to blog." And tonight is no different. But I'm just going to do it anyways. Just a little catch up. and a little bit of a rant. ...hopefully I can stay awake that long.

-School is over. Passed A&P. Hallelujah. Start OT classes again in January. Off school until then. 8 month summer/fall/winter break. Leigh Ann Woodworth, OTA....May 2012. Awesome. Just in time for the "Apocalypse."

-Cruise in December. Christmas to be exact. Happy Birthday Jesus, in the Bahamas. Stoked. Old enough to Gamble. and drink. ...woot.

-Josh. Still amazing. Still wonderful. Nothings changed. :)

-Job. Daycare. Sadly. Underpaid. Working as 2 people. Not fair. Kids are still sweet though.

-Possibly moving out. With Katie in her old house. Paying rent, and lots of bills. Being a grown up. Shit.

The rant is just basically about how I just don't get paid enough. Everyone says it, but I truely mean it. I have to do lesson plans, What We Did Todays, art work, worksheets, story time, circle time, maintain overall peace throughout the day, keep the kids from killing eachother, and I actually have to teach them something. ...I can't do it. It makes me feel incompetent, when in all reality, I'm not the incompetent one.

I'm done being mean.

It started raining, that means its...bedtime?

...I don't know, maybe Mother Nature is like "Yo, girl, we got things to do...ya know? Over in Dreamland?!"

I'm so tired I'm just typing nonsense now.

Fin.

Well...

Anatomy and Physiology is coming to an end. I'm pretty sure I'll wind up with a good solid C...hoping for a B, but, a C will do just fine.

I've never been so happy to be done with a class. I'm over it. I'm over all of the irrelevant information. I'm over the memorization. I mean seriously?! Who needs to know all of the cranial nerves? A brain surgeon. Not this girl. With the development of this thing I'd like to call, the "internet" we really don't need to know all of this stupid crap. Uh, hello...Google?

Whatever, its almost over. One more lab, and 2 more lectures, which really is only one more lecture, the other is just a show up, and turn your take-home test in. ..I love take home tests.

The boyfriend is coming over tonight. He rarely comes over to my house. Because, days like today, I hate it here. I stay in my room for a reason. Its my haven. I don't want to be around my dad and my brother, because they always fight with each other, and its over the stupidest crap you could ever imagine. My mom is sleeping, which means she'll be grouchy. There's no food here, I'm hungry. The independent me says "well, go buy some groceries. or at least go pick up food, on your own." But I know that if I were to leave, and come back with food, at least 2 of the 3 other people in this house would be angry at me. I'M NEVER HOME! I'M NOT THE ONE WHO EATS ALL OF THE FOOD HERE. GIMME A FREAKING BREAK.

I've been cleaning my room all day, getting ready for my honey's arrival (haha), and I took a break to fill out my FAFSA form (its super important for school, and I've been putting it off for weeks and decided to do it today.) I needed my parents social security numbers, and their tax information. I first asked my dad, who for some reason was in a pissy mood, for the social numbers, he asked, with quite a 'tude, "Why do you need that?" "I'm filling out my college finance stuff." (ya know, so I can get a real job and get the hell out of here) "Well, what do you need our numbers for?" "I don't really know, but its asking for it" "Okay, well I'll tell you mine, but I don't know your mothers." *tells the number* I start forging through my moms purse, because you don't wake a sleeping bear. Find her card. Go on my merry way.

Then it asks for their tax information.

I wonder what kind of crap I'll get for this.

So, Independent Leigh Ann comes out again, and says "well, I know they keep their tax stuff in a filing cabinet in their room" (where the bear-my mom- is sleeping, thanks Independent Leigh Ann) So against my will, I go into the filing cabinet ... 2004, 2006, 2003, 2008, 200...not 9. Its not in there, at all. So I was just...over it at this point and said "Mom, wheres your tax stuff from this year?" Groggily she answers "in the drawer" I answer, "No, its not, I checked there." "what do you need it for?" (I wish you guys would just give me what I ask for, not the difficult) "My school finance stuff, mom." Then, I just left. Walked back in my room and started putting in bogus answers. Worse case scenario, I go to jail. ...Martha survived it, so can I. Then, about 20 minutes later I hear her shuffling papers around in her room. Thank you Mom, for taking initiative. Preesh. She finds the papers. I finish the FAFSA, end of story.

Back to the fact that my mom is cooking dinner for my boyfriend and my family. ...and there's still no food in the house. Can't wait to see what she whips up. This ought to be interesting.

Lockdown.

So Josh is not allowed to leave. Ever again.

They got in a car accident yesterday. Totaled the car. Everyone was okay except for his little brother, who got a black eye, and his dad who probably broke his thumb. ...

Josh will never leave the state of Virginia again; not without me.

He's back. Finally. And I'm going to go see him today. Finally. I think we're going to see "Date Movie" at Cinema Cafe. Either that or "Hot Tub Time Machine." Whatever he wants to do.

Ugh. I feel so relieved.

Addicted to Weeds

I'm addicted to Weeds.

The show. Look it up. Its great. Thank you, Josh. Your subscription to Netflix is really helping me get through this week without you here. :(

Josh, my other half, is in Key West for a week with his dad, and his dad's family. Awesome. I'm super happy for him, since he hasn't seen or hung out with his dad in years. But, okay, its time to come home now. I'm bored out of my mind. I'm tired of hanging out with my family, haha. This is why I could never date or marry someone in the military. I know for a fact that I couldn't handle deployments. It takes a special kind of woman to do that, and I am not one them. I'm great with scrapbooks and memorizing movies. Not so much with the "I'm-going-to-be-out-of-town-a-lot" thing. Just not my groove. So kudos to you military wives, you rock. and Melissa, you rock in more ways then one :).

He comes home on Saturday night. I'll see him Sunday, and I can't wait.

Carrying on, I have been watching Netflix online nonstop. I watched "Julie & Julia" which was amazing. Honestly, refueled my desire to blog, and when I ever get the time and money for it, to cook. (Melissa, if you haven't checked it out all ready, please please do!) And, as mentioned before, I have fallen in love with "Weeds." Its about this high class suburban soccer mom/widow who sells weed to make ends meet. Definitely funny. Definitely a tear jerker. Definitely full of drama. Definitely profane and vulgar. but, Definitely worth it.

I am also the new mom to sixteen, I repeat SIXTEEN 3/4 year olds. I have just become the lead teacher in the 3 year old room at work. Am I excited? Yeah, sure. Am I nervous? Yes, but not for obvious reasons. I have a problem being a leader. Its just not me. I'm an excellent follower, but, leading just makes me feel like...I don't know. Like, I'm the boss. I know that sounds weird, because obviously, if you are the leader, you sort of are the boss. But, I'm not a bossy person. And now, not only am I supposed to be the fearless leader of those silly sixteen, I also have an assistant teacher, who is older than I am, that I also have to lead. ...That is the part I'm not excited about. Thankfully, my assistant teacher (see? it just feels weird... whatever) is an amazing woman, and is a great assistant and a great asset to my room! Overall, I know that this change is going to work out, its just sort of a "fear of the unknown."

Oh, and guess who just might pass Anatomy and Physiology this time?! ...me!!! WOO HOO!!! yeah I'm holding a steady "F" maybe a low "D" in Lab, but I'm kicking ass in Lecture. They take 40% of your lab grade and 60% of your lecture grade. I've done all the math, and I should be good to go! I'm stoked. BUTTTTTT.....the next practical (the big test in lab) is about muscles...and nerves. The muscles I feel...okay about. ...but the nerves. ...last semester, I left class all together when we got to the nerves. I'm scared of nerves. (ironic eh?).

So, lets recap. I'm bored. I miss my boyfriend. I'm the lead teacher now. I'm going to be an occupational therapy assistant...in two years. And, I'm addicted to Weeds.

TTFN.

Instead of studying anatomy....

I'm going to whine about it.

Its pointless. I don't need to know every friggin tubercle and notch of every bone in the body! Do you realize that there are approximately 206 bones in the body (depending on how many wormian bones [ones that grow inside of the cracks in your skull] you have, or if you have them at all)??? Do you realize that I could name about 185 of them?! to me...thats a waste of brain space. I'd rather know how to change a tire.

Did you know that theres a bagillion different types of cells?! Do you know that I have/had to know all of them!? and their parts?! And I'm not just talking nucleus, ribosomes, etc. I'm talking Golgi bodies and smooth endoplasmic reticulums, which look exactly the same!!!!

SEE!?!?!

Then the only reason I know what adipose (fat) cells are is because of Doctor Who (my favorite TV show). There's an episode where this woman markets a weight loss drug called "Adipose" and its supposed to make you lose weight like crazy. Well, you do. But it comes off in the form of these cute little fat cells. She winds up calling them her children. Well eventually your whole body just becomes about 12 adipose babies. Its crazy. But, I know what adipose cells are.

They're a lot cuter then real fat cells anyways.

There are about 700 muscles in the body. I'm going to have to know most of them. ...Do you see why I failed it last semester!? ...I'm passing this time, so far *fingers crossed*

Anyways.

I'm supposed to be doing anatomy homework. But, I figured I'd take the time to let the world know how I feel about this class.

Its too much, in not enough time. Thats all. I don't mind learning all of this, but not in a span of 4 months. Thats not fun.

Have I ever told you you're my herooo?!

This is Doctor Hunter "Patch" Adams. You can read about him here.

Homeboy's got it going on.

You might have seen the movie, Patch Adams, with Robin Williams. If not, its on Netflix, check it out. I would reccomend that movie to anyone.

Patch Adams' ideas of healthcare are what I feel is right. He feels that you should treat a patient, not a disease. Make fun of life, and make life fun. Be creative. Be inspiring. Be supportive. Be loving. Be compassionate.

Doctors, and other healthcare professionals these days care more about the money behind the service than actually the service itself. This isn't a car repair shop. This is life. You mess one little thing up, and its gone. People need to focus more on the person than what comes out of the person's wallet.

I'm not going to get into the whole "free healthcare" thing. I understand both sides. I think things like that should be free, but I understand how expensive everything costs, and the government seems like its in enough financial turmoil...

I digress.

Patch Adams is the man. The bomb. The cat's pajamas. The bee's knees.

He also says that all the problems in the world have been caused by men. I sort of agree with that...but the women didn't help. ha.

I love everything about this man. At least, I haven't found anything so far that was displeasing.