I can’t remember the last time that I wrote on here. It was possibly the time that I realized that no one really reads blogs well, MY blog at least, anymore. Common sense told me to just keep posting daily on Facebook and Instagram since most everyone on the planet has the attention span of a goldfish. (No, I don’t actually know the attention span of a goldfish but, come on. Give a bitch a break.)
My thought process is that maybe some people’s brains retain information such as myself; I may not read an entire post with all the comments, I may not agree with a post, I may think that a certain post makes me want to slit a person’s throat BUT, 99.9% of the time, I totally forget what I ever read. Then sooner or later, I find myself in a situation and I TOTALLY remember what someone said or insinuated; I retained their thoughts. Cool fucking beans, yo.
So many things have happened since I sat down and put my fingers to keys and knocked an actual piece out on here. There have been time after time that I think that I needed to reach out with something that happened or whatever and I never did. So, if you’re reading this now, sit tight. This could possibly be a long one.
So, starting off… I learned a very important lesson to be 100% accurate when selling our house last year; never do business with friends. We used a friend of about 5 years as our realtor and when time to accept an offer, we agreed to allow him to represent us as well as the buyers. BIG MISTAKE. HUGE. It’s taking everything in me to not call him out on here and tell all the shady and underhanded shit he pulled during our 40+ days in escrow. In the end, the house sold, we made a profit and we found the rental home of our dreams until we decide where we will retire to later this year. The journey was shit but the end result was good. (Although, if you are reading this and want to know which realtor in Temecula/Murrieta area of Southern California to NOT place your trust in, please hit me up. I’ll sing like the proverbial canary.)
Next up; I had two major surgeries to reconstruct my body after a 200 pounds weight loss over the last 15 years. It felt like it would never come to fruition and it took so long and it was such an exhausting process, mentally and physically, but here I am. I over shop at Victoria’s Secret and I can rock a pair of True Religion jeans like you ain’t ever seen. Although, there is the small factoid that after all of the surgeries I have endured in my life, I have my first infection that required an almost ER doctor visit for a cellulitis, some major stitch and scab removal, intense cleaning, a prescription for an antibiotic that I have to take EVERY SIX HOURS for seven days and tomorrow, I have to go back to his office for him to check me out before he leaves on vacation. Side note: I have THE BEST plastic surgeon in Southern California and if you want his information… Dr. David Newman, located in Murrieta, CA. Hit me up for his digits and more of the phenomenal man that he is.)
My husband is on his third motorcycle within a twelve month time frame. I hate motorcycles but, I love him so… I shall close that chapter right here.
Right after Christmas, I surprised my husband with tickets for our entire family to Oahu, Hawaii in April. Needless to say but I will, I don’t think he was as stoked as I was. Okay, so MAYBE I used our son’s 13th birthday as an excuse to go. In my defense, part of my negotiation tactics to agree to sell the house was that I got all my plastic surgery done and I got to plan our first full on, over the top, once in a lifetime family vacation to wherever I wanted. He wanted Aruba, I didn’t want to deal with passports and well, I love Hawaii. Our beach house on North Shore is rented for a week and I have all 6 days planned out. My girlfriend and her two girls are staying at the house and taking care of the fur babies and the boys’ schools have been put on notice.
My girlfriend and I went on a pajama/onesie pub crawl back in January. I have to admit that being a recovering alcoholic on a pub crawl was very interesting but, I had a fucing blast. And, we looked cute as fuck so… there was that. I would like to add that this same friend, I had dinner with the other night and one of the servers TOTALLY scored her phone number. He’s 23. She’s um… let’s say that it was comical and flattering at the same time. I told her that her son and her new boyfriend could go ride skateboards together. I love that bitch. hahahahahahaha
I’ve been really sad lately over this whole military spouse thing. I mean, I’m supposed to be used to people leaving. People moving on and never seeing them again. Maybe it’s because I am getting older (29 is a hard age, man) and I find that my emotions are all hormonal and fucked up but, in the last (almost) eight years I have met some of the most amazing women. And, it’s like that as my husband’s Naval career is coming to a close, so are so many relationships that I’ve built with these women. One friend at a time and it’s truly heartbreaking. Dare I say that it almost rivals deployments.
What else is there? Oh, as much as I was hoping an early term impeachment could be imposed… He’s still here; making a mockery of what an American should be. Then again, there are times that I think that I’m still dreaming and that I’ll wake up to some other, any other option than this ass hat.
But, for now I suppose that is all. I have to pee and at some point I need to feed my family. Stay tuned for (hopefully) more tales of Melodic proportion and share if you feel compelled to do so.
Love, Peace and well…