It's not the first time...

Picture this...

Me, rolling fifteen miles an hour down a hill on roller blades. At the end of the hill is a busy road of traffic.

(Did I mention I have not worn a pair of roller blades since high school?)

Well, I haven't. And as I came closer to the busy road of traffic, I realized I didn't know how to stop or slow myself down... SHIT! And, I was picking up speed.

So, what did I do? I found the softest thing I could find, and used it as a brake. In my case, the softest thing I could find was a parked car. So now I've gone and torn something in my arm, a muscle I assume. My neck hurts from whiplash, and the couple standing by as they pointed and laughed gave my ego a good bruise.

But don't worry, the parked car was ok.

Lesson learned: Always know how to stop before you start. That metaphore also works well when it comes to the topic of drugs and alcohol.


Ugh, too much whiskey...

The nice thing about working for an airline is that I am finding myself with a lot of time off, it's been time well spent drinking whiskey and then recovering from the hangovers. And now that I can squeaze my way on to the computer for the first time in a while I thought I would put together a little video for you all. Enjoy.


I am not blogging about my cousin...

So, the best part about living with distant relatives is not picking on them, it's about collecting blackmail and using it against them...

Ask Eric.

I am so enjoying our drunk nights together...

Ohh, I hope he hasn't been taking notes...


because of my childhood...

nothing is better than turning on an old rerun of The Drew Carey show to see guest actor Tim Allen being forced to do his famous grunt! Agh,reminds me of the summers of my adolesence. Can I please have some Fresh Prince now?


One day and counting...

So, gues what?

Tomorrow is my last day of FA school (that's airline talk for flight attendant). Anyways, I only have one last test, one last frigging day of pure hell. Yes, FA school is pure hell. Ok, maybe I am being a dit dramatic, but seriously, I intend to consume more burbon this weekend that I have even consumed in my entier life, ever.

And then if I can work my way around the massive hangover I'll be sure to have, I'll pop online and give you guys the best picture/written/video blog of the whole ordeal. really, you'll feel like you've just spent a few minutes in hell when you are done watching it as well.


Ever thought you might like to waste an hour and a half of your very busy day? Then go to Walmart...

So, I just got back from an excruciatingly long wait at the Walmart pharmacy, when I was given the twenty questions by a three year old named Elizabeth. Ok, I think it was Elizabeth, I don't really remember. Anyways, I don't know Elizabeth. She is one of those kids who likes to talk to strangers, guess her mom never taught her that lesson. I guess, judging by the look of frustration in her eyes, she was probably wishing a stranger would run off with the kid.

Anyways, I suddenly realized while trying to avoid conversation with Elizabeth that my youth is slipping away. And all because Elizabeth asked me if I had a husband!

Like, am I really starting to look old enough that a child would look at me and think I should have a husband? And then, of course, when I told her I did not have a husband she asked me, "Why not?"

Why not? Like, now I feel like not only do I look old enough to be married, but I look old enough that I should be married.

I really wanted to tell Elizabeth that I hated my husband so much I took him out with the trash, but I would hate to be held responsible for crushing the spirits of such a free child.

However, when she asked me if I was her friend, do you know what I told her? I said, "Elizabeth, I am not your friend, I am a stranger. And don't you know, you should never ever talk to strangers."


Hello blog...

I hate two things, wait, make that three things very much. First, there is my ex-husband, second is waiting in line at the DMV, and third is filling taxes.

But just two minutes I finished filling them online, which is something that really does make the whole process a lot less painful. However, where I should have a 4,500$ return, I'm only getting 100$.

That is an unfortunate change thanks to the ex-husband, who is still costing me money years after our divorce! Gosh, I hate that guy!

So now, it's back to court to force him to adhere to the binding legal document he signed. Oh yeah, I also hate court.

Anyways, I've got so much to tell you, but so little energy with all the training for my new job and the taxes and such. But soon I'll have a massive amount of time to check in and tell you all about hot jugs and peep holes!


Chain blogging? Now I have heard it all!

Historical Wit has chained blogged me! Yes, I have to follow the directions below. Normally, I toss this stuff in the can and move on, but he is such a committed read of mine, and I like the challenge. Here is what I have to do...

1. Write a six-word memoir.

2. Post it on your blog (accompanying pics, art, music, etc. optional).

3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post.

4. Tag five more blogs with links.

5. Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to engage.

So, I'll do steps 1 through 3, but I'm not passing it on. This is due mostly to laziness.

Anyways, here are my six infamous words.

Weenit: Saddest girl in the world.

There you have it. I think it's quite fitting, though most of you may not quite understand it, so allow me to explain. I got the nickname Weenit from an old boyfriend, he also use to call me the worlds saddest girl. And in a way, he was right. I've felt a lot of pain and despair through out my life, some of it I may never overcome. I can smile and enjoy life, but there is always this shadow hovering over me, reminding me.