Once upon a time, I was in a video store with my then boyfriend trying to pick out a movie to watch. I picked up John Carpenter's Vampires, and proceeded to tell the boy about the coolest scene in the movie, where a guy uses his hot-from-being-fired gun to cauterize a wound he received. Said boyfriend looks at me, shakes his head, and says, "You're not like other girls, Betty."
Name::Braindead Betty From::Indy, Indiana, United States
I love a good costume as much as anyone, and body modification more than most, but even I think some of these people took it too far. I can't help but wonder, though, why Enigma isn't on that list.
Our Halloween was fantastic We attended a bunch of Halloween festivities, including Zoo Boo: a fun Halloween punk rock show: and of course trick-or-treating: I even got creative and made some fun Halloween cupcakes: Nothing but the best homemade brains for mommy's little monsters.
The Punk Rock Night rip off show was so much fun. They get different bands to do cover sets of favorite bands. This year we had Rancid, Black Flag, Bad Religion & Jay's band as the Subhumans:
They played really well and we had a blast. What more can you ask for?
Hope you all had a hauntingly delightful Halloween as well!
So I've decided to completely change my career. I've been putting in applications all over town to be a vet tech, and I'm hoping that in the next year I will be back in school to become a vet. I've already gotten two callbacks in the last week, so things are looking good. Won't be long till I'm DR. Braindead.
I signed Bean up for tumbling classes. When people ask me why, I give them all kinds of reasons that sound real good, like she needed more interaction with kids her own age, or she needs some type of structured fun, or what have you, but the plain and simple truth is that it was good old-fashioned bribery to get her to use the potty. Which is not to say that those other reasons aren't bonuses.
Really, it is nice watching her make new friends, though. I tell you what, though. Play dates are definitely called "dates" for a reason. I feel like I'm on the singles market again. Trying to find parents that you can deal with to hang out with while your kids are playing is tough. There's one little girl who's a total princess, and her mom's nose is so far up in the air that it's amazing she doesn't drown when it's raining. There's another kid who cries through every class while his parents do nothing at all to console him. There are two little boys who are already best friends and won't have anything to do with Bean. Fortunately, there is one little girl that Bean gets along with fabulously whose mom seems pretty cool.
The next step, asking if they would like to get together sometime, is still like the dating scene, too. I don't want to come on too strong, or I might seem overbearing. But I don't want to seem too blase about it either, or they might think I'm not interested.
I'm sure all the other parents out there are familiar with their local sex offender registry, and have checked their address. This is just a friendly reminder to check all the addresses where your kids spend time. My MIL watches the girls while Jay and I are at work, and she recently moved. Her new neighborhood is great, and there's even a little boy next door just Bean's age. Unfortunately, we just found out that the little boy's grandfather, who lives with him, is a convicted child molester, who's only been out of jail for 3 years. So this is just a note to other parents to never take anything for granted.
Oh, and for those not familiar with their local sex offender registry, just google "sex offender registry" and the name of your state, and it should pop right up.
I love the signs popping up all over the road construction sites: "Max fine speeding $1000; Max reckless driving 8 years." I understand the need to cut down on people driving like idiots, but who really believes that they'll be stuck in jail for 8 years for going 20 mph over the speed limit? It's not like this country has a problem with overcrowded prisons or anything. Yeah, the courts are gonna' let the serial rapist, or the drug dealer, go free so we can lock up a speeder. Uh-huh.
Oh, speaking of jail, why do people feel the need to look me up & let me know when one of my exes has fucked up again? Apparently, my convicted felon ex-boyfriend got caught taking an (obviously) illegaly obtained AK-47 across state lines. Into Washington, DC. He got arrested by homeland security. I don't think anyone will be seeing him for a while. I also don't think I need to make additional explanations as to why he's an ex.
A girl in my city was carjacked recently, and I think she's a real hero. She managed to secretly dial 911 on her cell phone while being held at knifepoint. She made sure to mention her location and car description while the phone was on. She pulled a move straight out of the movies, and dove out of the car onto a median. She also went onto a neighborhood watchdog website and found the carjacker there, helping police come up with a suspect almost right away. The guy has now been caught, thanks in large part to his victim. I'm in such awe.
(And if you're confused about the Tijuana reference, well, too bad.)
Nursing is Good For the Body:
I'm pretty happy with the fact that I'm built like a woman, rather than like a teen boy. (Read: I have curves.) Things are being taken a bit to the extreme at this point, however. I'm normally a size 8, roundabouts. I recently bought a swimsuit and had to get a size 16 top to cover my assets.
Also, I know people are militant about parenting styles and techniques, but if I have one more person try to tell me the "best way" to breastfeed, I'm going to snap. I'll pick what's best for me and my baby, thank you. That goes for Jay, too. When he has boobs and the ability to lactate, then I'll listen to his opinion.
Overheard:
At Wal-Mart, near the inflatable swimming pools, 3 girls, about 19-ish, are talking. One says, "What are we filling it with again?" The other two answer in unison, "Jello!" I about died, but it was even worse when we ran into them again in the baking aisle, where they were buying...yep, you guessed it.
Oddity:
I finally got the meme where you have to list 7 odd things about yourself. Let's see...
I love dipping french fries into chocolate ice cream. Delicious.
My entire life, I've been made fun of for the way I say "color." I can't hear any difference between color and collar. *shrug*
When I was little, my cousin convinced me that when you became an adult, you switched genders. I was so depressed that I was going to be a man, but I did look forward to the ability to go shirtless.
There are several pop culture references that I only get because they've been spoofed on "The Simpsons." I can quote most episodes of that show.
I have always, always wanted a nickname. Never had one. I think it's because my name is already really short.
I'm 1/16th Blackfoot Indian. And all I get is a really high forehead; I'm still stuck with the easily burnt, freckled skin of my Irish ancestors.
I've never had a cavity. I should probably go knock on wood now.
I'm gonna' be a jerk and not tag anybody else. I never know who's okay with being tagged or not.
My heart is breaking. I have one cousin in the Middle East now, in the midst of his 3rd tour of duty over there, and another cousin who's headed that way on a MEU the end of this month.
My TV viewing has changed dramatically since Daisy came along. I'm up at odd hours that I never used to be up, so I'm catching reruns of shows I've never watched before, watching all kinds of phone sex commercials (I'm sorry, "dating service" commercials), and finding all manner of fantastic products that I don't know how I'm living without. One advertisement I saw last night really knocked my socks off, though. Not even an infomercial, just a regular 60 second commercial for mascara. What really blew me away was the fact that they were advertising how quickly and effortlessly it was to apply the mascara, and it showed a woman applying it in her car at a stoplight, then go zooming past the woman in the next car who was trying to apply clumpy "other" mascara. Like the idiot prima donnas need another reason to think it's okay to put on make-up while they're driving! I guess I can just be thankful that they didn't have her talking on her cell phone and eating, too.
I've also been catching reruns of Sex & The City. I don't know why that show was popular enough that people are yelling for a movie version. I think Sarah Jessica Parker's character is a petulant cry-baby. I just like seeing how she does her hair. SJP has fantastic hair. Then again, I bet fans of that show didn't understand why fans of Firefly were in such an uproar, either.
Yeah, I’ve been gone forever. My computer broke. It sucked. Here’s the Cliff Notes version of my past month:
I had a baby. For blog purposes, we’ll refer to her as Daisy. Everything went okay, and she is, naturally, perfect.
Moo. Just call me Bessie.
Somehow, I got old. My little bitty baby cousins are now a high school senior and in their second year of college, respectively. Yikes!
I figured out how I’m going to get rich. Or, at least, how I could get rich if I knew how to write software. Someone needs to create a database of celebrities who do voice-overs in commercials, and the products they shill.
Speaking of celebrities, I have a new celebrity crush. Zach Braff is absolutely adorable! I’m typically up for feedings late enough to catch the late night “Scrubs” reruns, so I’ve only just now caught on to this show. It’s fantastic; someone should have clued me in sooner.
There’s a serial arsonist running around Indianapolis. Fortunately, they’re just burning abandoned buildings so far. Let’s hope it stays that way. 13 fires in 17 nights is pretty messed up.
It's a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. Perfect weather to run some errands. I'm minding my business in my car, humming along with one of my favorite songs. The windows are rolled down, the better to enjoy some fresh air. All of a sudden, I feel a sharp, stinging pain. It's horrible. I scream. I notice the bee that has just stung me, but I never notice the other car that I run into.
Okay, so some people have interesting nightmares about chainsaw wielding murderers (hopefully with some Bud Light), or killer clowns, or other such stuff. Not me. I have nightmares about car crash causing insects.
I don't feel quite so paranoid though, as this scenario recently happened. Unfortunately, a couple died in the wreck. I'm so glad that charges aren't being pressed against the stung driver. I can only imagine the guilt that he's living with on his own, and it was a horrible accident. Needless to say, I think I'll be keeping my windows up. For a while, at least.
I don't know if you've read my "About Me" section over in the sidebar, but I had an eerily similar incident happen the other day that I just had to tell you about. Jay and I were talking with his father when we got on the subject of the movie Fargo. Jay seemed surprised to find out that his father really liked that movie, and I just blurted out the first thing I thought of, which was, "Who doesn't like a movie where a body gets put through a wood chipper?" (Yes, I have absolutely no filter between my brain and my mouth.) My father-in-law kind of awkwardly chuckled and said, "I don't know about you sometimes."
Whoever knew that liking gory, violent films would be such a defining measure of my personality? I guess I shouldn't complain too much. I like what that says about me much more than if my favorite movie were, say, The Notebook.
I'll never forget the last time I saw you. You were working at McDonald's and it was busy, so I left without telling you good-bye. Little did I know the rain-slicked roads would keep you from making it to school the next day, or ever again.
I can't believe it's been 9 years. You weren't there for graduation, the fun college years (even though I didn't go, but I'm sure you would have), and now we're all settling down and having babies.
I actually named my daughter after you. As she grows, I'll tell her stories about you. About your determination, your (let's face it) bitchiness, your loyalty to your friends. Most of all what I want her to know about you is your strength of character. During those tumultous high school years, when everybody's more worried about fitting in, you were never afraid to be yourself. You argued with teachers and students with equal facility, were firm in your beliefs, and refused to be swayed.
I just remembered when we took debate class together. Undefeated, baby! I may not tell Bean about your famous freshman English exploit, when you wrote an outstanding opening and closing paragraph for a research paper, and filled the rest with gibberish. Yeah, you called the teacher out, but she doesn't need to know about that.
11/24/81 - 4/14/98. A life cut short. A star softball and basketball player never allowed to meet their full potential. I still miss you.
That's the fear of Friday the 13th. Very closely related to one of my favorite phobias to say, triskaidekaphobia, plain old fear of the number 13. I figured that in honor of this very special day, I'd share a few of my favorite phobias with you.
Bathophobics should live in Hollywood, as they have a fear of depth.
Clinophobia is one I think my daughter may have occasionally. It's the fear of going to bed.
Dentophobia is, not surprisingly, the fear of dentists. My mother suffers horribly from this phobia.
Erythrophobia is not actually a phobia. It's the technical phrase for pathological blushing. Wonderful to know there's a name for it next time I go all red-faced.
Geniophobia may make it impossible for you to watch Jay Leno. It's the fear of chins.
Helminthophobia is the fear of being infested with worms. Eeewww.
Olfactophobia is the fear of smells. Often suffered after a person's first time in a bachelor pad.
Uranophobia is the fear of heaven. Because those halos are pretty intimidating, y'know.
If you know of any other interesting or unusual fears, feel free to leave them in the comments.
a fun Halloween punk rock show:
