tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57796323921106113452024-03-13T03:22:00.945-07:00Trying to Figure it OutYO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-86643840481361198032010-07-06T20:31:00.000-07:002010-07-06T20:44:12.740-07:00Signs, signs everywhere a sign.I should get a sign for the top of my car.. and one for the roof of my house. You know when you're driving down the highway and you see those signs that say "Every 6-1/2 minutes someone in the U.S. is... blah, blah, blah"?<br /><br />I need one of those signs. Mostly is would be a warning for others... a warning of my current mood. <br /><br />Every 5-1/2 minutes I am pissed off at a person driving in close proximity to me... watch out, your car might just be the one I decide to ram today.<br /><br />Every 2-3/4 minutes I am pretty pissed off about how early I had to wake up on said day... watch out, I might just ram your car because I'm pissed off about being tired.<br /><br />Every 8-1/2 minutes I am annoyed because someone is asking me for milk, or a snack or what is for dinner and then complaining about the answer. Watch out, I will make you eat <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">brussel</span> sprouts just because you complained.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yada</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">yada</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">yada</span>.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-20521064236135627252010-02-10T20:32:00.000-08:002010-02-10T21:26:12.234-08:00Push me over. Really! Go ahead.I have a problem. (Okay, I have more than one problem, but let's not go there). To get to the problem I am having, I must first share another problem that I have. It's a big day for problems, people. <br /><br />I don't share well with others. Call me rude. Call me whatever you want - but I don't. I'm pretty specific on what I won't share. <br /><br />My space.<br />My space.<br />My space.<br />Oh - and in case you weren't sure before... My space.<br /><br />I don't appreciate being touched. If I don't know you ... even if I do know you ... please keep your hands and feet to yourself. If you are not my child or my husband, please do not hang on me. Please do not hug me if I have not initiated said hug. Please do not stand close enough that I can feel your breath on me OR so close that I can feel any part of anything you are wearing touch or brush against any part of anything that I am wearing. Please do not step into my 'personal space' (at least an arm length) while we are speaking. Some days I am not as bothered as others, but you will never know which is a good space day and which is a bad space day - therefore I suggest you assume that every day is a bad space day. Just sayin'. <br /><br />(On a side note, just so you are aware I am not a *complete* freak... if you are my child or my husband - cuddle me, hug me, love me... stand close enough so we can touch, share my jacket if you would like, hold my hand... but IF YOU ARE NOT ONE OF THESE THREE PEOPLE IN MY LIFE - PLEASE REFER TO THE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH!!)<br /><br />The point of this post is to work through the other issue I have... being a pushover. That's me. I wear a sign... PUSH ME THE FUCK OVER - IT WILL BE FUN!!!! I WILL LET YOU. REALLY. DO IT.<br /><br />In two weeks I have to go away overnight for a school function. This requires reserving a hotel room in a city. Not cheap. Whatever. One night - I'll make do. Most of the class is figuring ways to shove as many people into a room as humanly possible. I can't do it. I am sharing with one friend. Even this is difficult for me. She is quiet and sweet and respects my space, therefore I believe I will make it through the evening...<br /><br />BACK TO THE PUSH OVER POINT... A classmate called tonight. She *knows* that I do not want to share a room with anyone more than the person I am now sharing with (I explained this when the topic of an out of town trip was first approached by the nursing department and everyone was rushing to find extra roommates), she knows that I do not share well with others but here is what she says... "me and so and so are supposed to share a room but neither one of us have very much money right now and I know, know, know that you are funny about sharing space with extra people, but if we bring an air mattress can we sleep on the floor in your room to save some money?"<br /><br />WHAT THE FUCK. I feel like a heel if I don't... but if I do, I might go insane. I shouldn't have to, right? What about karma though... If I don't - will it bite me on the ass?? My husband says it is not my problem and I shouldn't worry about it but even though I know that this may seem stupid, it bothers me.<br /><br />It may not seem like a big deal to most people. Most people can probably deal with crowds and people and all of the things that tend to freak me out. I just can't. I thought about just figuring out some extra hours of work so I can pay for their room. <br /><br />OH - you're probably wondering why the hell I want so badly to be a nurse... that requires touching people, right?! I AM INITIATING THE TOUCHING. It is different. It probably makes no sense... but it works for me. <br /><br />Damn. Can I be done with school now, please?!YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-72654836713848633672010-02-06T20:45:00.000-08:002010-02-06T20:48:24.851-08:00What I love.I love that I have met new people through this blog. Bonus, I get an insight to your daily lives through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span>. You and you and you and you ... if I would not have been looking for a place to bitch and complain, I may have never met ... you and you and you and, well - you! <br /><br />I knew that one day I would find a positive to the bitching and complaining I do. <br /><br />Thanks for making me smile!YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-81881918625658552232010-01-28T11:21:00.000-08:002010-01-28T11:31:06.334-08:00Why do I trust people... because I am a fool.My husband says that I'm not someone you want to mess with. Seriously, if I have to deal with you over the phone - WATCH OUT!!! I WILL WIN! I always do. I am calm. I am rational. I hardly ever get nasty. I NEVER take no for an answer. NEVER.<br /><br />Here's the problem. Screw me over in a way that requires me to deal with you face to face and guess what ... YOU WIN. I am not calm. I am not rational. Likely I will end up getting so mad I will cry. Yes, I said cry. (I have never learned to control this... piss me off and the tears just start a rollin' - pretty friggin' annoying). Therefore, in an effort to save my self from total humiliation, I give in. <br /><br />I've just been screwed over. It is a face-t0-face situation. I told my hubby to take care of it. He said NO.<br /><br />Now hiring: Thug to take care of said screw-over situation for me. I pay. Well, with cookies... but that is payment, right??YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-24764074673559380812009-12-26T15:33:00.000-08:002009-12-26T15:41:15.831-08:00'Twas the Day After Christmas...I know. You may think I fell off the earth... well, unless you're my friend on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> - and I think all 6 of my readers are. So, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">never mind</span>.<br /><br />I. AM. GOING. TO. START. BLOGGING. AGAIN. It is therapeutic AND I don't have the time for normal therapy! <br /><br />Here is a poem I found on-line... thought it was silly and thought I would share.<br />Happy holidays to all and to all a good night. (I crack myself up). ;)<br /><br />Twas the day after Christmas,<br />and all through the house,<br />Every creature was hurting-- even the mouse.<br />The toys were all broken,<br />their batteries dead;<br />Santa passed out,<br />with some ice on his head.<br />Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor,<br />while Upstairs the family continued to snore.<br />And I in my T-shirt, new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Reebok's</span> and jeans,<br />Went into the kitchen and started to clean.<br />When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,<br />I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.<br />Away to the window I flew like a flash,<br />Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.<br />When what to my wondering eyes should appear,<br />But a little white truck, with an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">oversized</span> mirror.<br />The driver was smiling, so lively and grand;<br />The patch on his jacket said "U.S. POSTMAN."<br />With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox<br />Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.<br />Bill after bill, after bill, they still came.<br />Whistling and shouting he called them by name:<br />"Now Dillard's, now Broadway's, now Penny's and Sears<br />Here's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Levitz's</span> and Target's and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Mervyn's</span> -- all here!!<br />To the tip or your limit, every store, every mall,<br />Now <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">chargeaway</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">chargeaway</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">chargeaway</span> all!"<br />He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work.<br />He filled up the box, and then turned with a jerk.<br />He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,<br />Driving much faster with just half a load.<br />Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,<br />"ENJOY WHAT YOU GOT ... YOU'LL BE PAYING ALL YEAR"YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-26343535910807886972009-04-20T18:26:00.000-07:002009-04-20T18:45:25.413-07:00Sick Mutha Fu@$ersI DVR Oprah. I watch some, I erase some. Watched today. Now I'm not so sure that was a great idea.<br /><br />I try not to judge. I hate when people judge me - so I try really, really hard not to judge others. Today I was judging - and wishing bad things to happen to the people I found myself judging. You may or may not agree with me - but I will not take it back. <br /><br />The show today was, in part, about child pornography. An 18 year old boy was arrested, from his home in Florida, for having some sick shit on his computer. At the time of his arrest, child pornography was being actively downloaded to his computer. Some of what they found: A 40 minute tape of a 4 or 5 year old girl bound and being raped by an adult male and a tape showing and 8 year old being forced to perform oral sex on a dog. <br /><br />Not only do I judge you... (and all the other sick fuckers out there like you) - you sick, twisted freaks that watch shit like this - oh, and lets not forget the stupid fuckers that actually torture these children... I'm sending bad juju your way. I hope they cut off your pecker and chop it up in itty-bitty little pieces right in front of you. I hope they tape your fingers together, wrap them up - real tight like - so you'll be able to see that you have hands - but will never be able to use them to touch a computer, or any child EVER AGAIN. I feel no sympathy for you or your situation. <br /><br />I have read that a number of child molesters have been molested themselves. I am very sorry for you that this happened. No child, anywhere - EVER should have to endure this type of torture. BUT - your having been molested DOES NOT, IN ANY WAY entitle you to do the same... GET HELP. You know something was fucked up in your head (or I hope you know) ... check yourself into a hospital. REACH OUT before you do something wrong. <br /><br />No matter what your reason is for molesting a child - my reaction is the same. BAD JUJU TO YOU MOTHER FUCKER.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-26921302226337399972009-04-18T21:59:00.000-07:002009-04-18T22:30:36.235-07:00Ranting - and some raving too!I know I'm not around a lot these days, sorry! Since most of my 'peeps' are on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">facebook</span> - I have become really lazy about blogging.<br /><br />I've been in a pretty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pissy</span> mood ... but even now, in the one place that I feel like I should be able to 'lay it all out'... I can't. I have started typing this about 7 different times... type, delete, type, delete... now that I *know* some of you (i.e... we share a couple of laughs here and there on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">facebook</span>), I'm afraid if I type the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">schtuff</span> that swirls around in my head - you'd all go 'this girl is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">fuckin</span>' nuts - I'm outta here'!!<br /><br />Instead - I will tell you about Easter!<br /><br />My husband told my brother-in-law that HE was thinking we might start taking the kids to church 'so they can learn about god and stuff'. My brother-in-law, a born again christian, was not very happy about this. Guess who heard all about it? DING DING DING - you're right - ME ME ME!!!<br /><br />I never just come out and share my opinions with my husbands family in regards to what I really think about politics and religion (fun <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">schtuff</span> like that), <span style="color:#ff0000;"><em><strong>unless they ask</strong></em></span>. I guess I figure that speaking my mind with them - it will cause problems... here, there - everywhere. BUT, <span style="color:#cc0000;"><em><strong>if</strong></em></span> they ask me what I think about something, I'm not going to lie. I will tell them the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - you asked, your fault if you don't like the answer.<br /><br />Long story short... my brother-in-law knows now that I consider myself agnostic. (I thought as I got older... I would move more toward spirituality, nope - didn't happen that way. Instead, I find myself moving further and further away) The bro-in-law wasn't very happy. What was I supposed to do, lie to him? I wasn't disrespectful, I didn't mock him... I just told him the truth. He told me he would pray for me. That's fine. It was what he said next that pissed me off. He told me that it took and 'intervention' for him to find the lord... and maybe 'that is what i need' - he had 15 people sit him down and pray hard for him - tell him all about the glory of god...<br /><br />what the fuck?<br /><br />i get it. if you believe in it - I am SUPER happy for you. SUPER, SUPER, SUPER!!! But, anyone that knows me - knows that I am claustrophobic. I get sorta panicky when I am in crowds and avoid elevators because of all the people in close proximity to me... set me in a room with a bunch of 'christian <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">interventioners</span>' telling me what I SHOULD believe and why - what do you think is going to happen?<br /><br />The 'i respect your belief hat' is gonna come off. I'm gonna get nasty. I'm gonna get rude.<br /><br />Seriously, why can't YOU have YOUR beliefs and I will have my 'lack' of my beliefs... we can still sit down and have a laugh, right? I have always been respectful of you - I have bowed my head in your home when you pray at meal time, I have kept my religious opinions to myself (until you decided you *had* to ask) - why do things have to change?<br /><br />DAMN.<br /><br />And this is the 'stuff' in my head that I share... really makes you wonder what I don't share, huh?? (or not... I'm really just pretending to myself that you would be interested)YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-20032871200353768042009-03-22T21:28:00.000-07:002009-03-23T06:56:04.413-07:00Sometimes... I'm dumbI should really learn to shut-up. Seriously.<br /><br />I was feeling kinda close to my husband tonight - sitting around talking. He is telling me about his blog - telling me that I should get a blog. I admitted that I have a blog. That I have had a blog. My 'diary' blog - so I can't share - you understand, right?<br /><br />Now, he is mad that I didn't share.<br /><br />"I'm keeping secrets"<br /><br />Have a feeling this isn't going to turn out well.<br /><br />I'm going to shut up now. Too late though.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-21495411265199184742009-03-09T11:55:00.000-07:002009-03-09T12:08:03.220-07:00Are you kidding me??I wonder, what causes a grown man to revert to childhood behaviors once married? You know - like not being able to see what is virtually right in front of his face? <br /><br />For example:<br /><br />After having my hair cut this weekend (a place I turn down my cell phone as to not bother those getting their 'hair did' beside me) I notice I have a voicemail. Received from my home. 15 minutes after I left the house.<br /><br />"Do you have my keys. I can't find my keys. I'm trying to go to the driving range, I can't find my keys"<br /><br />I didn't panic. I don't have his keys. Surely he found them and is well on his way to golfing bliss. Or even if he didn't find his keys, he had to remember that we have two extra keys for his truck and again - is well on his way to golfing bliss.<br /><br />Then I pull into the driveway. His truck is still at home. He is standing beside it. Pissed.<br /><br />Me: Why are you still here?<br /><br />Him: Because I don't have any keys. You have them.<br /><br />Me: I don't have your keys. Did you look in the house?<br /><br />Him: Of course I looked in the house.<br /><br />Me: Well, lets go look.<br /><br />Him: I looked everywhere - there is no point.<br /><br />Me: {I walk into the house, over to our small hall table, lift up a tu-tu my daughter left there - and there are the keys} - I hand them to the man...<br /><br />Him: Just how was I supposed to find them there? <br /><br />Me: Same way I did, I suppose. But, why did you wait for me to get home - why didn't you just use one of the spare keys instead??<br /><br />Him: Blank Stare ????????????????????????<br /><br />He forgot about the spare keys.<br /><br />Are you kidding me?YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-45588598931622103352009-02-25T17:35:00.000-08:002009-02-25T17:39:12.184-08:00You know her......she is "searching for a new tomorrow", always has a great post... hot hair and isn't afraid to tell you what's what.<br /><br />Thank you for your kind words ...<br /><br /><em>Yo Adrienne: She's so damn cute. Busy little chick who has a great personality. She oozes cuteness through her writing. I admire her hard work and determination.</em><br /><br />Thank you for the smile you brought to me today :)YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-33242223555324541422009-02-23T06:56:00.000-08:002009-02-23T07:31:31.012-08:00My kids are asking questions...<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Before</strong> you read this entry, please note that I am in no way putting down your religious belief or mocking your faith. I, without question, respect that every person has the right to their own faith and opinions... </span></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">I just ask that you respect my right to the same.</span></span></em></div><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"></span></em><div align="left"><br />My kids are asking me questions about God and Jesus. What the heck do I do now? </div><div align="left"><br />The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pre</span>-school / daycare they go to is run by a Christian affiliated organization ... in my mind I knew that they would hear about God, Jesus and all that jazz at school - I knew that this day would come - but, I did exactly what I normally do, ignored it, tucked it all somewhere in a back corner of my brain, now I'm regretting that decision - I am really unprepared. </div><div align="left"><br />As a kid I was catholic. As an adult, I have been in denial. </div><div align="left"><br />I saw on a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tv</span> show one time that they think people with faith have something different in their DNA than those without faith. I admire the people with faith - I really do. I admire all of you that believe and don't doubt. That's my problem... </div><div align="left"><br />I doubt. </div><div align="left"><br />What about all of the other religions in the world? What if they are right? What if all I was taught was wrong? What? Who? How? Do we really know? Guess that's where that whole 'faith' thing comes into play, huh?! </div><div align="left"><br />I want to give my children the opportunity to make their own decisions about God - faith... Maybe it is time I start taking them to church, so they are able to have their questions answered. But, will they receive the <em>right</em> answers? Unfortunately, we do not live in an area of religious diversity. That would be great - we could visit different places, learn different things... </div><div align="left"><br />They are young. Only 4 & 5... questions are pretty basic at this point. But, I fear, the questions are only going to get tougher.</div><div align="left"><br />Wonder if anyone has a book with all of the answers they wouldn't mind lending me? </div>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-48801478021982609672009-02-17T07:42:00.000-08:002009-02-17T08:10:43.915-08:00Disappointment is so ... disappointingI have been there for my brother anytime he has called - for whatever he needs. I always thought that should I have a need arise - that my brother would be there for me.<br /><br />I did. He wasn't. <br /><br />I didn't need money. I didn't need him to lift any heavy furniture. I needed his time. Just a couple of hours. <br /><br />Wouldn't do it. Not because he wasn't able. His plan for the day involved putting an impression of his ass into his couch. <br /><br />Jack-ass. <br /><br />I <em>never</em> thought that he wouldn't be there for me when I needed something. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Disappointment</span> is so disappointing.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-64416535354547623552009-02-15T17:00:00.001-08:002009-02-15T18:16:18.300-08:00Got Boobs?<span style="font-family:arial;color:#663366;"><strong><em>Had to share!</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><u>What Religion is Your Bra?</u> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A man walked into the ladies department of a Macy's and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What type of bra?" asked the clerk. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">"Type?" inquires the man</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">"There's more than one type? Look around," said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose from. Relieved, the man asked about the types. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The saleslady replied: </span><span style="font-family:arial;">There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which do you prefer? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Now totally befuddled, the man asked about the differences between them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Saleslady responded, "It is all really quite simple... </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Catholic type supports the masses. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{A} Almost Boobs</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{B} Barely there</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{C} Can't Complain! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{D} Dang! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{DD} Double dang! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{E} Enormous! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{F} Fake. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{G} Get a Reduction. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">{H} Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up !</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Can't forget the German bra. Holtzemfromfloppen </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Hope ya'll had a good weekend! :)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-58377262081293202682009-02-10T19:23:00.000-08:002009-02-10T19:36:25.675-08:00Something in the water... sticking to beer.I am sending out a warning to all of my friends... male and female alike.<br /><br />In the past week, three friends have contacted me to say that they are pregnant...<br /><br />I'm sure there is something in the water... you must avoid the water if you do not wish to be like my friends.<br /><br />While I wish all of my friends the best - I am absolutely thrilled for all of them ...<br /><br />I am sticking to beer... I'm sure it is the safer route! CHEERS!YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-15468785709143286342009-02-09T19:42:00.000-08:002009-02-10T19:37:11.688-08:00I'm aliveSorry. Fell off the face of the earth for awhile. Winter is tough... kind of hibernate, only coming out to do what must be done - even then, I find it is a struggle. I know, I know... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wahh</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wahh</span>... but, I have no other excuse.<br /><br />The weather here has been half-way decent for a couple of days - kind of gave me a pump of energy, thought I would peak my head out of my hole, no shadow yet... so, I'm inclined to stay out - <em>at least for a couple of days!!</em><br /><br />School is kicking my ass this semester. I hear it is the toughest one... the one where they weed out the weak from the strong. I am holding on like hell - hoping that I am one of the strong ones.<br /><br />I was able to observe a surgery the other day - a carotid <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">endarterectomy</span> ... I was fortunate enough to have an AWESOME surgeon and staff in the room, they let me stand very close, answered my millions of questions and explained everything that they were doing. Amazing. I never thought that surgery would be where my interests would lie - but I find myself very intrigued!<br /><br />Oh. Any suggestions on how to get my 4 & 5 year old to listen? They pretty much ignore just about everything I say these days. Nice. Didn't think that happened until middle school.<br /><br />I am going to try to be better at this blogging stuff... keeping up with writing and reading too. I have missed it... but, I'm back now. :)YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-41207485530598776422008-12-13T19:48:00.001-08:002008-12-13T20:00:49.959-08:00Something SimpleHappy Saturday.<br />Hope you're having a good weekend.<br />Me - took down my curtains - washed & pressed them, hung them back up. I know you are jealous. Hey - I got something on my to-do list done - I'm pretty psyched! <br /><br />Okay - I have a favor to ask of all of you. NO NO - don't leave - wait until you read what it is. It is a simple request - it will take you minutes - and you will make someone smile...<br /><br />My sister-in-law - her parents are the local Santa & Mrs. Claus in their town. They met a special little girl with a very simple Christmas wish. Alexis is 10 years old and has cerebral palsy - she LOVES to get mail. She asked Santa for mail this Christmas. So, here is the favor - if you have an extra card lying around - an extra piece of paper - something - could you, would you drop Alexis a line and give her a bit of a smile this Christmas?!<br /><br />Here is her information:<br />Alexis <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Krosky</span><br />PO Box 195<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Columbiana</span>, Ohio 44408<br /><br />Thanks,<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">YoAdrienne</span>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-52517603402978386812008-12-09T15:15:00.000-08:002008-12-09T15:30:46.317-08:00ANNNNNND I'M BAAAAAAACK!!TODAY ~ I <em>finally</em>, <em>finally</em>, <em>finally</em> completed my first semester of nursing school and - I LIVED!!<br /><br /><br />If this semester would have lasted much longer - I think I might have been committed - gone completely insane. Now - I know you think that I am just whining - complaining - much like I normally do - but I am being completely serious! This school stuff - HARD! I guess it should be, you know, since as a nurse - I will have your lives in my hands - but DANG!!<br /><br /><br />Okay, okay - enough of that crap. Have you talked about Christmas shopping yet? Have you even started? My list - short this year. Who has the money? Not us - that's for sure! Makes shopping easy when you don't have the cash to pay for anything! HA HA<br /><br /><br />I have missed you all, my blog world friends. I look forward to all of your sarcastic remarks and funny comments this holiday season!!!YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-87960498270105924952008-11-18T20:35:00.001-08:002008-11-19T09:34:33.830-08:00So, I said I would be 'out' for a bit -but hell, I said I was going to try to quit complaining too!<br /><br />So, got this e-mail tonight from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kadi</span> over at <a href="http://www.wombattheinnsane.com/">A Womb at the Inn(Sane)</a> ... she had this to say - -<br /><br />Yo Adrienne! (I love saying that!)<br />Greetings! I have chosen your blog to feature on The Classy Closet radio show tomorrow. I will be talking about why I love your blog, as if it isn't obvious! If you would be so kind as to put this button (I have attached) on your blog and announce that you will be featured tomorrow at 9<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">amPST</span>/11Central, I would be ever grateful! Here is the link to the show and the blog:<a href="http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theclassycloset">http://</a><a href="http://www.blogtalk/">http://www.blogtalk/</a>radio.com/theclassycloset<br /><a href="http://www.theclassyclosetshow.blogspot.com/">http://www.theclassyclosetshow.blogspot.com/</a><br /><br />So here is the button,<br /><a href="http://www.theclassyclosetshow.blogspot.com/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270225130261132770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo71gYXVIGE/SSOZ1UeNNeI/AAAAAAAAAGE/8rMEQyyKZj0/s200/kadyclassyguest.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Wonder what people will think of me when they find out that my <a href="http://tryingtofigureitout2.blogspot.com/2008/11/huge-disappointment-for.html">boobs</a> are shoe snobs?? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hmmm</span>...<br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Okay - really, this time I mean it. I'm 'out' for a bit. Gotta study people. Do you want me running your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">IV's</span> with only 3 hours sleep? I wouldn't let a chick with a needle near me without at least 4 hours sleep and a large coffee. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-65353933413692325472008-11-16T07:26:00.000-08:002008-11-16T07:37:58.987-08:00Somewhere between out of my mind and completely insaneI'm not ignoring you. I promise.<br />I think of you at least once every other day.<br /><br />The semester is coming to an end...<br />Everyone should know, this is when they (the bastards in administration) pile on as much as they can into this 3-4 week period... laughing wickedly from behind their office doors.<br /><br />At this point in time... not quite sure if my hubby even still lives here with us - it has been that long since I have spent any time with him at all. My kids - the only reason I know they still live with me, they beg me to feed them. <br /><br />If you don't hear from me for a bit - I didn't fall in a hole (I might be wishing for a hole at some point though) - I'm buried in a book somewhere, my hair standing straight up from stress and an IV drip of coffee standing at attention awaiting orders at my side.<br /><br />Until December 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>...YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-86414081928940061522008-11-05T20:25:00.000-08:002008-11-06T04:25:49.004-08:00A huge disappointment for the......RACK lovers / 'jealousers' of America...<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">*** Efen, Frank, Ron - not sure you should read any further. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">This may just ruin every RACK for you from here on out ***</span></div><br /><br />You say you love 'em... <em>I'm sorry to burst your bubble</em><br /><em></em><br /><br />You say you're jealous of 'em... <em>soon, you will realize that I am jealous of you --- oh, thou with no rack</em><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="left">These <strong>things</strong> - they showed up sometime in high school. Over-freaking-night. </div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">I'm not telling you a tale - oh no, this is a fucking <em>true</em> story...</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="center">I went to school on Monday, had no rack - </div><div align="center">when I went to school on Tuesday, </div><div align="center">the RACK HAD ARRIVED.</div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left">You thought you knew all of the details of my sad, sad story - the therapy sessions that have left me emotionally drained ... the twitching I have had to fight to overcome, all as a result of my name. But this, this is <em>the rest of the story</em>:</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="center">name + rack = shock therapy treatments</div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left">This rack of mine... not like the racks found at 'The Girls Next Door'. When I take off my bra, my rack - not exactly 'staring' you in the face... more along the lines of checking out if your shoes match your outfit.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Because my boobs are checking out whether or not you are keeping your pedicures current and if you read the memo in regards to never wearing white socks with black shoes when not tamed and holstered, I can NEVER leave the house without a bra. Not even to retrieve the paper from the end of the driveway. I might as well leave with no shirt at all... it is THAT obvious. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I have been in the process of trying to buy a winter coat for the past 3 years. Sure, I'm a bit picky - I like plain - I like black - requirements include looking good underneath my backpack - and NOT making me look like I am either trying to be a teenager or like I am a fucking old fart... </div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Oops... off task - back to my rack. Coats. The coat issue. Find a coat that fits the rest of me - EASY... try to zip it up enough to keep the rack toasty, warm and protected from the cold, blustery winter wind - NOT HAPPENING. Find a coat that fits the rack, NOT so easy. I end up looking like a fucking marshmallow because the coat is swallowing me whole - everywhere but my RACK!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="center">Rack, what have I ever done to you?</div><div align="center">I know, I know - I used you to feed two babies...</div><div align="center"><em>but</em> you deserve it with everything you put me through during high school</div><div align="center"><em>(like being a teenager isn't difficult enough...)</em></div><div align="center">Can't you find it within yourself to at least perk up and be pretty if you're going to stay?</div><div align="center">Must you be heavy and have such expensive lingerie tastes?</div><div align="center">Must you fight me every time I want to cover you in something warm?</div><div align="center">Must you get in the way every time I try to drive a golf ball?</div><div align="center">Rack, what have I ever done to you?</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-49041456036339762502008-11-04T17:49:00.001-08:002008-11-04T17:52:28.291-08:00Frank, my blog friend, this is for you...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo71gYXVIGE/SRD8BbdkwII/AAAAAAAAAFc/m5Eay9I-nBk/s1600-h/IMG_2206.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264985065877979266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo71gYXVIGE/SRD8BbdkwII/AAAAAAAAAFc/m5Eay9I-nBk/s320/IMG_2206.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"></span></em> </div>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-2318640893602934902008-10-31T13:41:00.000-07:002008-10-31T13:43:28.625-07:00If I were candy I would be...SweeTarts<br /><br />Fits me <em>perfectly!!</em><br /><br />So, my friends... what candy would you be?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Happy Halloween!</strong></span>YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-17262962545328150772008-10-30T15:49:00.000-07:002008-10-30T16:09:24.719-07:00I have one of *those* names...<a href="http://livinglaura.blogspot.com/">Laura </a>said recently that I need a nickname.<br /><br />This - it made me think - and I have decided - I will share with you. <em>(oh, the suspense)</em><br /><br />My name.<br /><br />Adrienne.<br /><br />Can you imagine? Do you know where I am going with this?<br /><br />If I had a quarter for <em>every </em>time I have heard "YO, Adrienne" (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">inevitably</span>) followed by<br />"do you get that a lot" <em>OR</em> "have you ever heard that"...<br /><br /><em>I WOULD BE A FUCKING MILLIONAIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</em><br /><em></em><br />Do you think this bothers me??<br /><br />It doesn't... anymore. Really.<br /><br />Therapy helped a lot.<br /><br />The twitch - very slight compared to what it used to be.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-90763418141891517322008-10-29T10:49:00.000-07:002008-10-29T11:22:17.087-07:00You tell me that I don't have to *like* my kids... now tell me, do I have to like my in-laws??...because every time I know that I am going to have to deal with <em>J's </em>family... my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">spidey</span> senses go all out of whack! I get anxious thinking of the ways they will let me know that everything I do is wrong (in their eyes and the eyes of their god) ... this makes me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pissy</span> (my mood, not my pants <em>thankfully</em>), which then leads to road rage [**note** the road rage they <em>cause</em> ... adding to the money I am going to have to dish out for the kids' therapy one day**].<br /><br /><em>J's</em> family is as different from mine as can be. My family is laid back and a little rough around the edges - in a type A kind of way (if that makes any sense at all) - his family... judgemental, annoying - you get the point. [Okay, okay - my family is judgemental too - but we call it gossip and we do it behind your back... not to your face!]<br /><br />I have never had a problem getting along with just about anybody. But, everything I do - a problem. I am wrong. I am selfish. I am immature. Just can't win.<br /><br />We will see them Sunday. <br /><br />It's Wednesday now. I can feel it... my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">spidey</span> senses are starting to go. By the time Sunday rolls around - I'm going to be a flipping mess... if you live in NE Ohio - consider this fair warning.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">UG</span>.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5779632392110611345.post-72818961796635144432008-10-27T15:29:00.000-07:002008-10-27T15:43:15.068-07:00Am I supposed to like my kids?Am I?<br />Because today, I <em>do not</em>.<br /><br />My kids were used to being with me all day. I was a stay-at-home mom until June when I went back to school full time during the day. (Previously, I went nights and weekends and they were home with dad or grandma). I had such a tough time leaving them... cried all of the way to school for a week. Wimpy, I know. <br /><br />But now that they are in school 3 LONG days during the week - they drive me nuts!!<br /><br />Is it because I am no longer used to being with them all of the time? Is it because I am out in the world of adults again? (although, quite frankly - a lot of adults get on my nerves) Or is it because they fight, fight, fight? Or because they whine, whine, whine? <br /><br />I thought having babies was hard ... my kids are 12 months apart - there were times I was ready to go nuts... but now that they talk [meant - *talk back*] it is much harder than when they just crawled around and stuck everything in their mouths.<br /><br />Oh yeah - and as an extra special gift - everything I do and say ... they are old enough to remember now. Each and every time I tell them they are driving me crazy - adds to the amount of money they will be hitting me up for to pay for therapy one day.<br /><br />I'm a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sucky</span> mommy.YO Adriennehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03493311455081300257noreply@blogger.com5