Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

I just cleared my blog reader for the first time in, oh, I don’t know, FOUR MONTHS. That, my friends, is an accomplishment. Now can I keep up with it?

Ooooh, and guess what?? So I’ve posted before about the oh so awesome gifts that my husband gets at his company xmas party each year. I’m too lazy to find the posts and link to them, but in the past there’s been huge gift cards to Sears, a tv, another tv, and uhm, another tv. Oh, and a Sony Handycam. We always tend to win the tv. Not sure what’s up with that. ANYWHO. This year, they did the gift giving by seniority ranking and the higher seniority, the prettier the gift. I could not be more ecstatic with what Derek unwrapped this year. People, we now have a brand-new shiny 24″ flat screen iMac. Can you hear my squee-ing from where you are? ‘Cause it’s been two weeks and I don’t think I’ve stopped. So happy, so so so happy. Yay. Love it.

I’m keeping pretty busy these days between my two jobs (for example: I’m in the middle of an eight day work week here and one of those days was a 14 hour day including travel time). I’m trying to fit visiting my family while they’re in Seattle around Christmas-time in there somewhere and my pseudo-nephew’s third birthday party and all these other crazy social gatherings that I have this month…. gah, so busy.

I’m trying to read like a fiend to get some more books tallied before the end of the month. I keep getting distracted by the internet, though. Guess maybe I should go read now…? Okay. I’m going to go read.

Muah! Miss everybody and yay, I can comment on your blogs now because I’m all caught up!

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

My second job is working in a music/dvd/games/book store with the emphasis on the music and the movies so I have music and movies on my mind a lot these days. You may see a lot of brief posts on songs or artists in the future. But hey, short and sweet and musical is better than radio silence, yeah?

That said, I saw a friend of a friend make this comment about Lady Gaga on Facebook and I had to share because it made me snort with laughter.

During an opium bender David Bowie and Barbara Streisand had a male lovechild which they immediately bedazzled and then he grew up to get a botched sex change; and that is the story of Lady GaGa.

Not my quote, but hilarious and I wish I’d thought of it because it’s damn funny. And I actually secretly like Lady Gaga even if I think that she’s batshit crazy.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

I’m coming out of blogging silence to say that I really, really, hate that song by Owl City, Fireflies.

Seriously? BLEGH.

Yes, really, that’s all.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

I didn’t think I’d cry.

I was wrong.

I just got the call about twenty minutes ago that my grandmother passed away. She may have been my step-grandmother and she may not have come into my life until I was fourteen years old, but I loved her just the same.

I’ll miss you, Donna.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

It’s true.

I’m not really sure how it happened, but I have a seriously long string of good days going on here and I am a happy girl.

I’ve just been feeling really blessed by my friends and my family. I’ve started trying my bajillionth attempt at NaNoWriMo (that’s National Novel Writing Month if you didn’t know, where the goal is to write 50,000 words of a novel in the month of November). The encouragement that I’ve been shown just on Facebook alone is insane. It’s funny because I know good writing and I know that what I’m writing is just absolute crap, but you know what? It’s the first 4,000 words that I’ve written in well over a year so even if it’s crap, how can I complain, really? That said, I was on target for the first few days and now on day four I’m a good 2,500 words behind, but I actually feel like maybe I can catch up this time. I don’t feel completely like quitting just because I’m behind schedule. That’s a good thing.

Work has been going really well. I actually got a compliment tonight from someone I work with about how well I’ve adjusted to doing the difficult stations and how well I handle it. It meant a lot coming from this person and I’m still a little bit glow-y about it. Work has also been good in that while I had zero hours scheduled this week, I’ve already managed to pick up 20 hours worth of shifts and I could potentially pick up a few more.

My grandmother has deteriorated again, which is the bad news. She’s no longer coherent and her skin is getting cold so the end is really going to be near. I’m just waiting for that to hit and to see how I handle it, but so far, it hasn’t happened.

So that’s what’s going on!

Oh, and my story of the day from work? My co-worker on the phone: “So, the other day I was at the bus station and I was picking my nose, but I was embarrassed so I acted like I was crying, but then this homeless lady came up and gave me a hug! Then, at the bus station today? She was there! And she recognized me and came up to see if I was okay!” Ahaha, that’s awesome.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This is my joy.

There’s more on YouTube under my username Wuzzlicious if you’re interested.

She cracks me up. It’s okay. I know I’m biased.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Dooce made a post recently comparing her life these days to a skiing story from when she was younger where she wound up face first in a thorn bush. Her life these days? In a thorn bush. I couldn’t even begin to come up with a better way to describe my own life right now. I’m in a thorn bush.

I hate for this blog to be all doom and gloom and whine and that’s probably why I haven’t been posting much. It’s really starting to feel like every single time I can start to pick myself up, I get knocked back down before I was ever able to dust off my behind from the first tumble.

This whole grandma being sick thing has me thrown for a loop because it’s unexpected. This isn’t the same grandmother that I posted about a while back. This is my stepmother’s mother and she’s been a part of my life for a good fourteen years. One day she was fine, then three weeks later she’s in her last month (if not week) of life. I just don’t get it.

And then to travel a few hours to go see her, spend the night at my sister’s place and to wake up to find my passenger window shattered? That was so not what I needed.

I’m just tired. I’m really tired of being hit when I’m down and I’m trying really hard to stay positive, but it’s hard. Even as I write this, the day after my car was broken into, I’m nursing my daughter’s fever. Her fever of 103. Because seriously, universe, the rest of this shit wasn’t enough?

Give me a break.

I’m really really hoping for some more upbeat positive posts to come. There ARE good things going on right now, it’s just really hard to find them and remember them with everything else. I’ll work on it for you guys.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

So.

I bought a new house.

I moved into the new house.

I got a new job.

My new job announced budget cuts and lay-offs.

I’ve somehow managed to keep my new job, but with limited to no hours, so really, what’s the point? I don’t know, but I’m sticking this out.

I got a second new job to help fill in the gaps and make ends meet.

I found out my grandmother has cancer.

Two weeks ago she was put in the hospital because her lungs keep filling with fluid.

Three days ago she was given a week to two weeks to live.

I went down to visit grandmother.

My car got broken into and my gps navigation system was stolen.

It cost me twice the cost of the nav system to replace my shattered window.

That was this morning. Now I’m at home. And I’m tired. And I’m sad.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

I sold my house.

I quit my job.

I’m five weeks from being homeless. (Not really, if we don’t have a place we’ll move in with my in-laws.)

We put an offer on a house. It’s a foreclosure. We won’t know for up to two weeks if we get it or not.

I’m waiting to hear back about a hospital call center job.

My daughter turned one.

I am slowly going insane.

Yeah, I think that’s about it.

How are you guys?

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This post is a contribution to Nathan’s fabulous blog-off. Visit the link for the rest of the participants and further information. A portion of the proceeds are being contributed to The March Of Dimes, an oh-so-worthy charity.

This week’s topic: Babies!

I have a confession to make. I don’t like kids.

I know, I know. I have one and I love her more than life itself. I didn’t always dislike humans under the age of twenty. I used to really truly genuinely love children. Then I had one.

If that seems backwards to you, that’s okay. It’s backwards to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been blessed with a child who thus far, is just SO good. She’s so well behaved and she’s so happy all of the time. She cries very very rarely and never for very long. Crying for ten minutes straight is a major crisis in this house because it just doesn’t happen.

I find that children misbehaving in public make me want to run away. Even my own friend’s children drive me batty sometimes although I do have a much higher tolerance for them than for other kidlets.

It’s because of that that I’m almost entirely sure that I’m going to be happy with just one child. I love her so so so so much that I don’t think my heart can handle loving another one as much as her. My baby has completed my life in ways that I never even dreamed possible.

I have the best baby in the world and I just have no space left to love the rest of the little children out there.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This post is a contribution to Nathan’s fabulous blog-off. Visit the link for the rest of the participants and further information. A portion of the proceeds are being contributed to The March Of Dimes, an oh-so-worthy charity.

This week’s topic: The Most Important Lesson

Growing up, I always thought that the golden rule was really the most important lesson. Treat others as you would like to be treated. It’s a good lesson, yeah, but the most important? No.

I think that the most important lesson is how to love. First and foremost you need to love who you are. Recognize that you need tweaking, as we all do, but love who you are and what you are and what you do. You need to be proud of the things that you’ve accomplished and the work that you do to accomplish even more.

You need to learn to love the wrong person in order to fall in love with the right person. There are exceptions to the rule, but I think that you need to spend a lot of time falling hard for someone who is totally and completely wrong for you. Only then can you recognize when the right person walks into your life and only then do I think that you can truly appreciate that special kind of forever relationship.

Loving your family and friends will most often come naturally, but learn how love them through their mistakes and bad attitudes, through their trials and their grief, through their anger and their mistakes. Writing off your loved ones when times get tough is the quickest way to a lonely life.

Love. We need it so often and in so many different ways. Love is the most important lesson that a person can learn.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Check it out y’all, my husband started a blog.

Visit him, please!

He actually started it over a year ago and then abandoned it after one entry. He’s up and at it again though and could totally use your comments to keep him at it.

Go, enjoy, comment and let him (and me) know what you think!

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This post is a contribution to Nathan’s fabulous blog-off. Visit the link for the rest of the participants and further information. A portion of the proceeds are being contributed to The March Of Dimes, an oh-so-worthy charity.

You must choose a time of at least 1909 or earlier to return to. You must be able to physically carry or roll the item along with you. Be aware that it has to actually work with the other resources they have – IE: they won’t have the Internet, so email isn’t going to work.

I gotta admit, I was thinking long and hard on this topic and I was coming up with air. As in nothing. As in nothing that didn’t require at least one additional piece of technology.

Then it came to me. It made me laugh, but it came to me.

I’d bring Prozak to Sylvia Plath. I know, it sounds awful, but hear me out! I am not a supporter of anti-depressants for the masses. Having been through a severe depression that at one point landed me in the hospital, I am easily irritated by people crying wolf and getting drugs. True depression, true Sylvia Plath depression is ugly. It is selfish, it is brutal, it is hideous and in most cases is a chemical imbalance.

Sylvia Plath was one of our great minds. An absolutely amazing writer. Can you only imagine the stunning works that we’ve missed out on because mental illness got the best of this woman? That, my friends, is why I’d pick up a bottle of the best - Prozak - and hand-deliver those goods.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This post is a contribution to Nathan’s fabulous blog-off. Visit the link for the rest of the participants and further information. A portion of the proceeds are being contributed to The March Of Dimes, an oh-so-worthy charity.

It’s no surprise to many of my readers that I’ve been struggling lately. I’m unhappy about my return to work after a year off to enjoy being a new mother, I’ve been ill, my marriage is on shaky grounds (oh wait, did I not mention that previously?) and we’re facing financial devastation. We just listed our condo for sale and it looks like we may be taking a loss on it. This? This is not my version of The Best Life.

This past weekend, for the Fourth of July holiday, I was actually able to let go of all of that and really enjoy myself. I cherished the last few days of my freedom before my return to work, my best friend’s last few days of pregnancy (she delivers via c-section tomorrow morning!) and I relished in the sunshine and the heat of the summer. I let myself be yanked behind a boat on an inflatable tube and I let go and happily spun through the air into the cool lake water. I came up gasping for air and grinning. I came home bruised and proud and happy.

The thing is, sometimes life is shit. It’s just the way it goes. Right now my life is not all peaches and cream, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. In the midst of all that dung, there’s still the potential for fun and for smiles. I have this amazingly beautiful and smart baby and she’s sunshine and giggles every day. So maybe this IS The Best Life. Maybe if we can just peer around the yuckiness and duck the flying crap, we can always remember where the roses are.

My life may not be where I’d like it to be, but you know what? It’s a damn good life.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Once again, lost to the world of blogging. I’m tentatively considering an indefinite hiatus, but the thought of completely giving up on the site has me a little trembly, so who knows, I’ll probably wind up keeping it around for random posts once a month or so. Then again, I may change my mind and start posting every day again. Not that I’ve done that for years.

I think I’m just feeling a little under the weather lately and that’s my whole problem. I am going back to work next month and since I hated my job before I left to go on maternity leave… I’m really dreading returning to it. I’m hating hating hating the fact that I have to go back to work at all, but our financial situation is dire and makes the paycheck necessary - even if half of it will be going to daycare once my free childcare (aka Grandma) ends in September. Daycare. Gah. That word makes me angry. I hate the idea of daycare. I hate the idea of dropping my kid off to be taken care of by a virtual stranger five days a week. Hate hate hate. I’m really really bitter about this, but I don’t think that I have any other options. It’s killing me, people.

I’ve also completely lost myself to the World of Warcraft. Yup, that’s right. You can officially call me a gaming nerd now. I can’t help it. I start playing and before I know it, hours have passed. It’s SO much fun, though. If you play, you should leave your realm and character name in the comments. I’ll look you up. I have four toons already - what’s a few more?

I was really really getting stoked for a trip to New Mexico in October to go visit the hot air balloon festival, but, bummer bummer bummer, with our financial situation being as it is (read: dire) that trip is going by the wayside, I think. I’m still trying to find a way to make it happen, but… I just don’t think it’s going to work. Same with a trip I was hoping to make to Mexico (you know, to do vacation right sans child), but again… I think making the bills is a bit more important than a few piddly vacations. As much as it pains me.

So that’s my life in a nutshell these days. Baby, Warcraft, financial ruin and cancelled vacation plans. What’s up with all of y’all?

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

This is me with nothing else to blog about, so here, have some links.

50 People, One Question - I thought it was pretty cool.

Misha Lulu - Only the cutest kids clothes on the planet.

Subversive Cross Stitch - I’ve shared this one before, but it deserves to be shared again. Patterns for those under the age of 50.

Cuddly Toys Of Death - Need I say more?

100 Ways To Kill A Peep - So awesome.

Water-Logged - Ouch! Seriously??

Snacks & Shit - Hahaha, I always knew rap music was LAME.

And there are your happy links for the day. Now go forth and be merry or something.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

I swear to you all that there’s a very very good reason why I haven’t blogged in the last, oh, month and a bit. Pretty much April ended with a score of Life: 53,404 and Courtney: 0. Let me share (because if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that misery loves company and damnit, I want to share my misery).

It all started a few days before my last post. I was all amped to go to the Britney Spears concert (oh hell yeah, I love me some Britney, laugh all you want). I woke up that morning sick as all hell. I ate very little that day, I felt lousy and then Britney walked off stage three songs into her set because “the smoke was too bad.” Right. She eventually came back on, but really, it was lame. I still love the songs, but I was disappointed in the show - I was expecting a much better performance from someone who doesn’t even have to actually sing.

The nasty cold stuck around for a few days and I regained my appetite on Saturday - just in time for me to have the wisdom teeth on the left side of my mouth removed. When I had the ones on my right side taken out, I was back to normal one week later. Not so much this time. I was barely able to eat even ten days after the fact.

Of course, on the tenth day after the wisdom teeth extraction, I wasn’t thinking too awfully much about the pain in my mouth because I was in the hospital with abdominal pain. I had woken up at 1:30 in the morning with horrid horrid pain in my back and left side. I was writhing and crying and I couldn’t seem to find a comfortable spot. I told Derek that I felt like I was in labor all over again. Derek thought I was faking it because I was writhing around so much. He didn’t see how or why I could be in that much pain. Eventually, when it still wasn’t easing off, we called an ambulance (so we didn’t have to wake Ana up) and off I went at 4:30 to the emergency room. At 9:30 I finally saw a doctor who sent me in for a CT Scan and confirmed that I had (dum dum dum) a kidney stone. Fantastic. He told me that I shouldn’t leave for Mexico as I was scheduled to five days later. Yeah. Right. Like I’m going to skip a freaking expensive vacation and my good friend’s wedding for pain that may or may not occur.

I probably should have stayed home from my “vacation,” but my kidney stone had nothing to do with and never made a reappearance. To this day I’ve stayed pain free in that regard. We left on Saturday as scheduled for Mexico. On Sunday, Ana was violently sick. On Monday she threw up. On Tuesday she threw up and had diarrhea and something Derek had eaten for dinner the night before didn’t agree with him and he was sick all day. On Wednesday she threw up and had nasty diapers. On Thursday we were blessed with no vomit, but were still stuck changing diapers on the hour and then I stubbed my toe (twice) and broke it. Yes, I broke my toe. That or bruised the bone, but in either case, my foot turned black and blue within hours. Friday had more vomit and with the exception of Sunday’s vomit-fest, it was the most we’d seen yet. Joy. The next day we went home.

I wish that I could tell you that the vacation-that-wasn’t was the last of my drama, but no, it was not to be. Last week I received a letter from the Canadian government telling me that my 2006 taxes were incorrect and that I now owed them all of my refund back, plus interest, plus late fees. That meant I owed them $2K. Oh, and by the way, they wanted it in two weeks. ARGH. Turns out, it was a mistake on our tax-preparer’s end and since he’s family, he just paid it and now we’re going to pay him back slowly so it’s not a total crisis, but still, that’s $2K that I would just rather have never had in the first place then something I have to try to come up with now. Gar.

Nope. It doesn’t end there.

Finally, two days ago, I was driving down to Seattle to go see Taylor Swift with my sister. (I’m not really such a teeny-bopper, I swear. These particular tickets were free.) I was thinking I was looking all sassy thinking that the only good thing to come out of the last few weeks was the weight loss from stress and/or not eating, when the gas station attendant asked me if I knew what I was having - a boy or a girl. I’m not pregnant.

And that, my friends, concludes my month ‘o shit. So forgive me for not having posted sooner. Now I’m just trying to put all of that behind me and move the fuck on. ‘Cause seriously? UGH.

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Cars are funny things. If you’re anything like me, you don’t get super-attached to your vehicle, but nevertheless, it plays a big role in your life. If your car is having a bad day, well, so are you. If your car is rocking, well, you’re probably having a pretty good time. In typing that last sentence, I meant it completely different than it came out, but that works too, I guess!

My first car was a 1983 Volkswagon Jetta. I liked it, it was alright. She was a pumpkin color and rattled a lot and didn’t last long enough to receive a name. I was in a hurry to move onto a vehicle that I’d like much better.

The Little Bugga That Could was fantastic. She was a 1973 Volkswagon SuperBeetle and we had some gooooood times together. She was a bit weak and hills were a bit of a workout for the old girl, but we chugga-chugged on through until rust damage and an unfortunately accident caused her untimely death.

Ol’ Smokey came next. This Mazda RX-7 from the 80’s was a lot of fun to ride in, but the guy who sold it to me wasn’t kidding when he told my dad and I that there were engine problems. I couldn’t drive more than a few miles without smoke starting to pour from underneath the hood.

My Pontiac Grand Am was probably one of my nicer vehicles actually, but I was young then and I hated that it wasn’t a “cool” car. I called her the Pontica Grand Ma.

My last car, the Focus, never had a name because I had no real attachment to it, but my current car - I loooove my current car. I’ve returned to my love of Volkswagon and have driven my pretty little Golf since July. It dawned on me the other day that my car has no name and this is just wrong.

Problem is? I can’t come up with anything good. So here. Help a sister out. Name my car, please? She’s a midnight blue VW Golf and she’s fun and she’s fast. Whatcha got for me?

Originally published at Five Second Dance Party. Please leave any comments there.

Step One: Wake up sick with a nasty cold and (very important) no appetite.

Step Two: Go to a concert (more about that later) with said cold and scream and holler despite your throat burning.

Step Three: Return home from aforementioned concert and proceed to cough so hard and so violently that you throw up not once, not even twice or thrice, but four times.

Step Four: Remain sick for two more days.

Step Five: Regain appetite approximately five minutes after having your two remaining wisdom teeth extracted (in a manner that has caused significant more pain the the preceding tooth extractions if you feel that info is important).

Step Six: Whine bitterly. And loudly. To anyone who will listen.

My poor husband.