When Bad Things Happen To Good Books

I love books and have a tendency to get rather attached to the characters. I also get somewhat annoyed when a writer does a disservice to said characters, as was the case in this story, Beach Road by James Patterson/ Peter de Jonge.

I rather like James Patterson's books. He's good at holding your interest with the right amount of suspense and putting you inside the heads of the characters. Which is possibly the reason I am so disappointed with this book. It was great up until the ending. Had I known what was coming I would have stopped reading once it got to what I thought would be the end. At the end there is an awful plot twist that is completely unbelievable. There was absolutely no indication up to that point that what happened is even a remote possibility.



The book is written in first-person style, which is my main issue with the way it ends, because it ends up seeming completely false. When you reach the end, it's as if the main character was lying to you, as if he knew you were in his head. That doesn't make any sense. Also, there are many things in the book that completely seem at odds with the twist at the end.

To me it seems as if the book up until the last hundred or so pages was written by one author and then the rest by the other, and the second writer only gave the first part of the book a cursory glance before writing the ending. They take a perfectly likeable, believable character and turn him into a cruel, calculating monster with absolutely no warning. The only possible way that it would work is as if he had multiple personality disorder, which he certainly doesn't seem to. I mean, he earnestly tries to find the guy who, in the end, you find out is none other than himself. How does that make any sense?

Overall, the book was great. Once you reach the end of the trial, though, it goes completely south. If I had any idea what was coming, I would have put the book down at that point.

--Dragon

(I get rather attached to characters in books, as I said, and it's as if the writer created this guy and made you like him, then just drags his name through the mud)
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Interrogation Time!

Thordora got meme'd and I thought I'd join in the fun, so I asked her to tag me :)

Interview rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview Me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

1. How were you at first with the thought of raising a child predominately on your own? Where do you find the strength for what lies ahead? It's hard with two parents-one, I can't imagine.
I'm terrified. I have been since day one. I don't feel like I have the strength to do it, but I know I'm the only one with the sense to try. It's not the kid's fault if I'm not up to par on the grand scale of parenting, so I just have to make sure I am. I hate failing at anything, and if I fail at this I pretty much fail at the one basic task that all humans are capable of doing. My goal is just to do the best I can and hope I am not one of those parents who other people look at and think "God, that person ought to be sterilized and their child shot."




2. Favorite writer of all time-any format.
I have two. John Steinbeck, because he rips the scab off and lets you see the mess underneath, lets you see that things are messy and dirty and horrible but there's always something good shining through the grime. And Kurt Vonnegut because reading his books is like having your brain sucked out of your head through a straw, fried with some chile peppers, and put back in upside down. He completely skews my vision of reality and shows me how incredibly narrow my view is.

3. My hair color fluctuates monthly at times, weekly at others. Is yours the color you were born with? (I don't even remember what color mine is)
Lol! No. I tend to dye my hair as often as my wallet allows. Currently it's auburn. It was orginally maroon, but thanks to the summer sun, a lot of the purple faded out. The best color my hair has ever been was black with red tips.

4. Best. Concert. Ever. Name it.
That's tough. I'd say Coal Chamber, 2004. I believe they broke up the next day, which sucked, but that concert was incredible.

5. What are you most looking forward to with your soon to be out bambino?
Sleeping on my tummy again! Or, as far as the baby goes, sleeping on my tummy again. :) But really, I have two things I'm really looking forward to. One is kind of silly and really has to do more with my pride than anything else, but I hope we were wrong and it really is a girl instead of a boy so I can rub it in everyone's face that they got me all that lurid boy clothing even though I was adamant that I didn't want it (and she'll wear them all, too)(Yes, I know, how immature). The other thing is I really enjoy singing, and I can't wait until I can sing to a real live baby, not a possible alien spawn harboring itself in my body.


--Dragon
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I Am So Totally Awesome

Well, sometimes I like to think I am. Lookie what I made (yes, all by myself):

Not only is it lovely to behold, but it is also functional. Click on it! How supremely awesome is that?

--Dragon Read more!

Fuzzy Things To Cuddle

Gordo

My road trip buddy and foot warmer extraordinaire.

Suki
Who better to contemplate the sheer stupidity of humanity with?

Kenny
The only creature who can pee on me and get away with it (hehe good thing he doesn't have an ego!)

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Over and Over...

I feel it everyday it's all the same
It brings me down but I'm the one to blame
I've tried everything to get away
So here I go again
Chasing you down again
Why do I do this?
(--Three Days Grace)

Sometimes I hate being me. As in, really, truly despise the person that I am. Sometimes it's because I can be a mean, heartless, firebreathing wench. (Bet you'd like to see that, huh?) Other times it's because I am too effing nice. One facet of this is that I have a tendency to let people walk all over me. Whenever I make a new friend I have to be constantly vigilant that they don't turn out to be a bloodsucking vampire as so many that I have known turn out to be.

The other is that I don't fight for what I sometimes think I should. I can't help but being nice, even when it kills me. This is the mistake I have made in the past regarding Matt. If it weren't for me, several of his past relationships would have failed in the first few weeks or months. I hate that about me. There was one particular girl, Naomi (that wretched bitch), who he was with for 2 years and almost married. Two weeks before he was to come home on leave and they were supposed to get married, she sent him a "Dear John" letter.




Thank god he wasn't yet in Iraq, he would have probably gotten himself killed on purpose. Again, I bailed him out of that one. The only reason he got by was because I was there for him 24 hours a day. I picked up the phone no matter what time it was, I talked to him or just listened to him for hours and hours, and kept reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. Then the entire time he was home on leave he spent with me.

Shortly after he finished leave, he called me and said he wanted to marry me. I told him no. I told him that he wasn't over Naomi yet and that as much as I cared about him, I had too much self respect to be a rebound girl. This went on for about a year and a half, where he would ask me and I would say that he wasn't ready for it yet. It killed me to say that. How do you say no to the one thing you want more than anything over and over again? But I couldn't do it. I didn't want him to want me because I took away the hurt and made him feel better, I wanted him to want me simply because he wanted me, if that makes any sense at all.

Predictably, he got fed up with this routine, just when I started to give in to the idea. He asked me, and I said, ask me again when you come home (which was going to be about a month later). Little did I know, he was busy getting close to this other girl (wench) that was the younger sister of a girl we had been good friends with in high school. So when he came home, he found every reason not to see me.

I was not in a good place at the time and to be honest, I wanted just a little bit of the support that I had given him since we first became friends when we were 13. It was such a terrible feeling to think that my best friend wasn't there for me when I needed him. I began to resent him like hell, especially when I found out that he had been messing around with this little twit (and I can honestly say that she was a bitch and a complete idiot. I've had the same opinion of her since long before she ever got together with Matt) and that she was the reason he was avoiding me.

We didn't speak for a month or so until he called me one day to tell me that he was probably going to get kicked out of the army (for the stupidest reason you've ever heard). Of course, whenever something hard came up, I was the first one he called. He knew he could always count on me to be there when there was trouble. Of course. So he said that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I knew he was still seeing the wench, but he said that he didn't care about her the way she did about him, and that to him she was more of a sister, and when he came home he would tell her how he felt. Silly me, I believed him. So finally I gave in. I didn't think he was truly over Naomi, but by then I realized that he wasn't going to get any more over her than he already was.

This of course made me very happy. We started making plans to get an apartment here when he got kicked out. Everything was going good. And then he started calling and emailing me less and less. Ok, I thought, he's in the army, this has happened before. He gets busy and doesn't have the time. No big deal. My feelings are kind of hurt but I figure that I'm just overreacting. I start hanging out with Erik. I knew Erik had had a crush on me since we first met 2 years before at work. But of course I didn't care. Call it a way to be rebellious.

I keep waiting and waiting for Matt to call or email me back, and he doesn't. Or when he does, I'm not at home and he is told to call back at a certain time when I will be, but he never does. So one day I go to his myspace to leave him a message, and I see a message from another girl who I knew he was friends with saying something along the lines of "I'm just waiting for you to get home. I miss you. Love, Faith." I get pretty effing ticked off.

So I decide enough is enough. I write a rather venomous letter that I send to both of them letting her know just what kind of person he is. I did my best to direct my anger at him, not her, and said that I had no idea what kind of person she was, but that I would like to believe that she was better than the trash he usually picked.

I didn't speak to him again for about 6 months. After about a month or two, I feel bad for what I did. Never before had I crossed that line. If I had a problem with him or whatever girl he was with, I took it to him. But for some reason I just snapped. This was too much. But of course, I am too effing nice, as I already said. I emailed him about every month after that letting him know what was going on with me and apologizing for what I had done. I didn't get any response until June, when he emailed me back saying he wasn't mad at me and I was still his best friend.

I got a few emails after that talking about things going on in his relationship. I still wanted to believe that this girl was better than the others, so I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and tried to reassure him that everything was just really tough on both of them at that time and it was probably wearing on her as much as it was on him.

Then, about a week ago, I got an email from Faith. She said she wanted to know some things about Matt that he wasn't telling her and that she really just needed to know the truth, because she was sick of his lies, and if he couldn't come clean with her then she would have to leave him. This is what prompted me to write this post. After that I called her back and we ended up talking for more than 2 hours. She is a lot better than the other girls he has picked. The problem is that she is a lot like me. And I like her. Matt always told me he wanted to find a girl just like me (why the hell not just pick me then?).

I know that reading this, he sounds like a total waste of space. And sometimes I think that he really is. On the other hand, there are tons and tons of things that make me feel like he isn't. Somehow, he has contributed to the downfall of every single relationship I have been in except one. I end up holding them up to this impossible standard of him. And it doesn't help that I seem to continually pick guys who are pretty much total losers. It's like I'm setting them up to fail before I even realize it.

I'm never going to have him. I know it. I don't know why I've led myself on for so long. Even now I am saying somewhere in the the back of my head, "maybe...", but I know it's not true. It's like an addiction. How does one stop being addicted to a person?

And I really like this girl. She is the first girl he's dated (other than me, of course :P) that was actually worth something. She has 3 kids that Matt is absolutely excellent with. I knew he would be. He adores children and has always been greath with them. He's always wanted his own. I really enjoy talking to her and look forward to meeting her. And I really am happy that he finally found someone worth keeping.

But part of me still wants to cry. Part of me wants to stop being so nice and fight tooth and nail for what I believe should be mine. I've done so much for him. I probably saved his life more than once. Shouldn't he be mine? Stupid, stupid, stupid, I know. I just wish I knew how to get over him. I've tried and thought I've succeeded so many times. Of course it seems that every time I do, he comes waltzing back and tells me that he misses me, he loves me, blah blah blah. Like I said, stupid, stupid, I'm so fucking stupid.

--Dragon

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Firefox

Behold the supreme awesomeness that is my browser. I have all kinds of nifty addons that make it pretty :)



Isn't it 73 kinds of spiffy?

--Dragon Read more!

Dreams, Guinea Pigs, And Grape Soda

Remember back when I had this dream? Well, It's August 15th, and there is no immediate signs of an impending baby, so I think I'm pretty safe. Its a good thing, too, because I still don't have a carseat. I probably won't until the 23rd. Damn my broke-ass self.

In other news, we recently adopted a guinea pig. His name is Kenny. He's the sweetest, most adorable little rodent you've ever laid eyes on. We adopted him on Friday and he seemed perfectly happy and healthy. He likes running around and being cuddled, and makes the cutest little squeaking, cooing noises when he's happy or excited. Well, on Tuesday he started dragging his back feet and only using his front legs to pull himself around. Naturally, this was cause for alarm. Since we adopted him from the local humane society (where my mom works), we had a free vet visit. The vet we use is a walk in facility, so we took him down to get checked out. Everything checked out ok, and the vet suggested he might have a vitamin C deficiency, and we should feed him more fruits and vegetables rich in vitamin C. So I looked up what veggies were high in vitamin C and found a whole long list. The only thing we had on hand on the list was celery (who knew celery was a good source of vitamin C, by the way), so we sliced that up and fed it to him. Obviously we would not see an immediate change, but I'm afraid he's getting worse. He seemed pretty lethargic and didn't move around a lot today. He was doing fine yesterday in spite of not using his back legs. We get some money on Saturday, so we're going to get some vitamin C tablets to make sure he is getting enough, but I'm really worried that it might be something else less treatable. I've already gotten really attached to the little guy, and I don't want him to die.



My brother, who is the one we got Kenny for originally, doesn't seem to care very much. I'm the one that keeps checking on him and making sure he has fresh food and water and spending hours researching everything I can possibly find about the care and feeding of guinea pigs online. Hopefully everything turns out ok, but I'm getting really tired of my brother only seeming to care about World of Warcraft. I play WOW too, but I have a life outside of the game. He doesn't. Since he can't seem to make it in regular school (he has severe ADHD, ODD, and hyperkinesia, which apparently is not part of his ADHD but in addition to it), my mom is going to try and see how he fares in homeschool. Unfortunately, that means no time at school where he can make friends and possibly have a reason to do somthing other than spend all his free time in front of the computer. Not to mention he drives me absolutely insane sometimes. The kid has no sense of respect for other people or their property, but that's another post all in itself.

On a happier note, grape soda!


--Dragon

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Even I Realize That This Is A Tad Bit Too Honest

Let me first say that the person in question is a very sweet, kind hearted woman. I do like her. However, right now a lot of things are pissing me off. With much gusto and all that. This is what I would say to her if I could say it and then give her amnesia so she would forget the whole thing. And just so you know, I'm not always a very nice person.

Please stop asking me about the status of my being or the baby's. I am a very private person and I dislike discussing the goings on of my body, whether or not it is currently home to another person or not. Until he can speak for himself, he's going to live by my philosophy of "We don't talk about our bodies in polite company." Anyways, you know what it's like. You've had 5 of them. So just stop asking. Do you not notice how uncomfortable I get when you ask? And by the way, It's not like I see my doctor every day. Unless he suddenly stops moving or something wierd happens, I'm going to assume he's the same from one day to the next. Please don't ask to rub my belly. You are not rubbing the baby. You are rubbing a distended bit of flesh replete with happy little stretchmarks that is covering the baby. Don't ask if the baby is moving or kicking or whatever. I prefer not to think about it. Most of the time, he is shoved up into my ribs having a grand old time contorting my internal organs into new and interesting shapes. Other times he is trying to punch his way out through my nether regions. I personally don't like discussing anything that is that close to my nether regions.



I really want you to stop acting as if you have some sort of right to the baby. So your related. Oh well. If I wanted it to, that would mean diddly squat. Just so you know, you didn't make it. You aren't the one who gets to be a human incubation vehicle. You don't have to do the hard work. Which, by the way, it looks very much like I'll be going that one alone, or almost. You've already had your experience with the "miracle of childbirth" (ugh). Quit trying to act like you have a right to mine. IT IS NOT YOUR FREAKING BABY!!!!

Also, don't get all hurt and upset at me because I am not going to give up my goals to stay chained to this little town so you can have unrestricted access to him. Sorry. I know you decided to let your entire life revolve around your children's existence (oh, and look how that turned out), but I'm not going to. Yes, the baby will play a major role in my life. However, my life isn't going to simply end because I popped out a little pod person. Yes, I'm going to let you be part of his life. Yes, when I move, I'll come back to visit often, and you will be welcome to visit us. But I'm not going to sit here and become a jobless loser because you want another baby around.

I'm really sorry your one daughter is a moron and a whore and refuses to let you see her or your granddaughter. She needs to grow the fuck up and learn that the world does not revolve around her. (Oh, poor widdle baby, her family was so mean to her growing up. Cry me a river why don't you.) However, it is not my responsibility to make up for her lack of humanity. And by the way, you actually have the right to sue for visitation, and you'd probably win, but I'm never going to tell you that because I don't want you getting any ideas. I know you want a grandchild. I don't know why you do, but that's neither here nor there.

And keep in mind, the only reason this one is even in existence is because I royally screwed up. I didn't refill my birth control prescription and wasn't careful. Yes, I'm stupid. I tell myself that every day. But guess what? Unlike some people, including your son (who certainly had his part in this whole baby-making fiasco), I own up to my mistakes (most of the time) and try and take responsibility for my actions. So I'm going to pony up (lol yes I said pony up) and make sure that this baby is loved, cared for, and educated. Call me sick, but I see this as a grand experiment to see if I can do better than half the idiots out there that have no business having children in the first place. Yes, I know that's probably a horrible way to look at it. So shoot me. Oh, and don't tell me there are people (like your sister) who would die to be able to have children and I should be grateful. Believe me, I think she should be able to have children too, and I think she'd make a much better mother than me. However, I don't really have a say in things like that.

Don't get upset at me when I am not happy that you give me something that I don't want and don't have any space for but I have to take for fear of hurting your feelings. It's no wonder your son is such a soft-shelled cry baby sometimes. You asked if I had a baby registry. I told you where it was, and you didn't even bother to check it. You even asked my mom what I needed, and she told you that I really justed needed the basics and didn't want a bunch of extra, frivolous crap. You even told her you were glad I was so level-headed. So why did you turn around and get me a swing? She specifically said I didn't want a swing. If you don't want to get me something that is on my list (which by the way is a damned good, well thought out and incredibly thorough list), then by all means, save your money. I never asked for any gifts. I know you want to "help", but believe me, that was not helping.

Keep in mind that since my mom and brother moved in, the baby will no longer have his own designated space. Instead, he has to share mine. And you know what, I don't want my room overtaken with a bunch of cheap, garish, plastic crap. They baby will not know or care whether it has a stupid swing or a bunch of other space hogging equipment or not. All he needs is a place to sleep, some clothes, some food, some diapers, and someone to make sure he is happy, dry, and fed. I know this is shocking to you, but believe it or not it is quite possible to raise a child without buying stock in playskool or gerber.

Lastly, if I say that I want to keep the gender a secret, don't act like I'm some kind of strange creature who obviously is not from the same species as you. It's my freaking body and I'll tell you as much or as little as I want. Why the hell couldn't I have my little secret? Why is it such a crime to want to know something that you don't? You'd find out eventually. And you'll adore it whatever it's got inside it's diaper. And then, when my silly airheaded friend slipped and told you all the gender, why did you have to say, "oh, now I can buy a bunch of cute boy clothes!" When I told you a major reason I didn't want to tell you the gender is because I didn't want a bunch of gender specific crap.

People get too carried away with the "cuteness factor" of babies. That is why I didn't want you all to know, because you can't seem to get it through your thick heads. I hope and pray for the slight chance that it is a girl just so I can spite you all and dress her in all the "cute" little boy clothes you got me. Oh, and by the way, I live right across the street from a baby consignment shop. Don't think I'd have any qualms about marching over there and trading in all the stuff you guys got me for what I actually need. I know you purposely didn't give me reciepts because you knew I'd return the stuff if you did. Well guess what, I'm alot smarter than you think, I'll always find ways around whatever kind of roadblocks you put up.

I know this makes me sound like a heartless bitch from hell, but this is the accumulation of nine months of frustration and biting my tongue because I don't want everyone in Erik's family to hate me from the outset. But boy, am I getting fed up with all this kow-towing. And the baby isn't even born yet!

-Dragon

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I've Been Here Before...But Not Like This

This will likely make sense to no one.

For sorrow. There are always those secret hopes one keeps locked away in their hearts, silent and guarded for fear of ridicule or worse. The dreams that press themselves against tightly sealed lips, begging for an audience when there is none to be had. Even when you know the dreams will never be, you hold hope hostage. And you walk your line and you play the game with veiled thoughts and bitterest hope that all is not lost.

And so it goes-- for ages. Weeks, months, years even. 10 years is a long time to hope. 10 years is half a lifetime... half my lifetime. A stupid thing to wish for at any age. And then hope is lost. Reality and the hard truth shatter it, a stone through glass. You wonder how you could have been so stupid, so naive. How you could have allowed yourself to entertain such a rediculous fantasy even in the face of blatant proof that there is no chance for your dream to come true.

But hope, even shattered, is a powerful thing. And so after a while, after you push away the betrayal and searing pain that comes with dreams broken, it begins to rebuild itself. Insipid, it worms its way back into your thoughts, your dreams. At first, you don't notice. Then, when you do, you curse yourself for holding on, for allowing your desire for that one little thing to return. You become disgusted that you can't seem to shake it, no matter what you try.

And so in spite of yourself, it grows. It poisons you slowly, devouring any innocent thought or emotion, destroying any chance you have at happiness outside the dream. Every once in a while you find out something, hear it, see it, that fuels the dream. Even evidence to the contrary is explained away. Still, you tell no one. You do your best to stand in its way, even though every time you do, it kills you a little more. You are at cross purposes with it. And so every time you try to get in its way, every time you help to further the cause against it, you feel sick. You hate yourself. Yet you have no choice. You've had your chance and you missed it, why punish anyone else for your mistake? Ahh, why indeed.

Such is love, or whatever twisted caricature of it this has turned into. I wish I felt nothing at all.


--dragon Read more!

Myself and Someone Like Me... Not Alone After All

This is in response to Thordora's August Pulsate Olympics. You can see the original post here.

This is the story of my first real friend.

I've moved more times in my life than some people two and three times my age. Most of the moves happened before I even turned 13. We were always on the move-- looking back, it's almost as if we were running from something. We never stayed long enough for me to make friends; when I did, we moved and I had to start all over. Eventually I just stopped trying. After my mom and dad divorced, however, the constant moving stopped. Then my mom married my stepdad, Russ, and we moved to a little town about 30 miles from Chico.

After we moved I was enrolled in the local junior high. It was all the same to me. One school was like any other-- a place filled with strangers I would never know. After a few weeks, people started to try and befriend me. I would smile and laugh with them, but I didn't bother getting too attached. One girl, Carleigh, was a lot of fun to be around, if you could get her away from her best friend, Amy, and her boyfriend. I had never met anyone more irritating in my life than this guy. His name was Matt. Anytime I would be talking to Carleigh he would appear out of thin air and interrupt the conversation. I absolutely could not stand him.

I hated riding the bus with the other kids, so I would catch a ride to school from my mom or Russ on their way to work every morning. This meant that I ended up getting to school around 6am. Most people didn't start arriving until about 7:30. That is, except one other person... Matt. We would sit on opposite sides of the cafeteria and refuse to look in the direction of the other person. It was like some sort of private feud.

The school we went to was adjacent to and shared a cafeteria with an elementary school. They had a teacher who would wait in the cafeteria for any kids who got dropped off early and provided activities to keep them busy until school started. I would talk to her sometimes about different things like books or school projects I was working on. On the day before the science fair, I brought in my science fair project. It was something involving using color and black and white film to take photographs. One was a black and white photo of my shadow on a creek.

We were talking about it and Matt came over and started commenting on my project. Wonder of wonders-- he really liked it. Eventually the teacher got busy setting up projects for the elementary school kids, and Matt and I continued talking. The conversation shifted from the science fair project to other things. We just kept talking and talking until the bell rang, and we were startled to find that we would be late to class. At some point during this conversation, we each realized that the other was not, in fact, a total nusiance. And so we became friends.

Every morning after that we would meet in the morning and spend the rest of the time until school started walking around talking or playing basket ball or tag when no one was around to laugh at us for being childish. We found out how much we had in common and how isolated we always felt compared to the other kids. But not anymore. For the first time in my life I had someone to talk to. And so, it seemed, did he.

The best part of this story: we are still friends today. In fact, he still has the picture of my shadow over the creek.

This is a picture of Matt last year in Iraq:



--Dragon Read more!

Why Be A Man When You Can Be A Child Instead?

Sometimes I feel like this baby is going to end up with one parent and one trememdously overgrown playmate he calls daddy.

Every month the local hospital holds an orientation for expectant parents in order to allow them to pre-admit and give them an idea as to what to expect when they arrive. I found out about it 3 weeks ago and told Erik right away (he was standing right next to me, after all). So I call him today to tell him we were going and how long it would be. I was going to go to the store afterwards to get something for dinner and discussed this with my mom as we were leaving, right in front of Erik.

Halfway through the orientation, he started texting his cousin. I told him several times to pay attention and he kept saying he was. First off, no, he wasn't. He was texting. Erik has ADD and can't even hold a coherent conversation while watching a moving or using the internet, and text messaging is distracting even for someone with a normal attention span. Then he got an attitude and said that I should have told him sooner because he made plans tonight. I told him 3 weeks ago. That's pretty damn advanced notice. That pissed me off so I decided not to bother with it until the orientation was over. When we left, I said we were going to stop at the grocery store for a moment so I could get something for dinner. Of course he started pouting like a petulant child and refused to admit anything was wrong. After making a few attempts to get him to cheer up, I decided to ignore his behavior.

When we left the store, I asked him if he would save $25 out of his next paycheck for the upcoming carseat program as I don't know exactly when I will get my first check for disability. He asked what I was talking about, and I mentioned that I had already told him, but repeated that there is a program held by the county each month that allows you to buy a new carseat for only $25 dollars if you attend a class about proper installation and automobile safety. He says fine but says he doesn't remember me ever telling him anything about it.

By this point I was really irritated. He has gone with me to several appointments where they told us about it and gave us flyers. There has been a flyer posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen since April. I mentioned it to him at my baby shower, where I said that Sara wanted to get me a carseat, but the one she wants is out of stock so she has to wait for it to come in, but I still wanted to go to the class and get a carseat from it for Erik's car. He tries to tell me that he didn't remember any of it and thought that if I really had told him he would remember something as important as that. Of course, there have been many times where we've had essentially the same conversation, but he continues to insist that I never tell him any of the things I say I have.

What am I supposed to do, buy him a dayplanner and write every thing I want him to remember in it? The main reason I broke up with him is that I. AM. NOT. HIS. MOMMY. It isn't my job to do everything for him. Every time something doesn't go his way he throws a fit, pouts or runs away from the situation. He almost started crying at my baby shower because we were all playing a game where we took turns diapering a baby doll blindfolded and whoever was the fastest won. No one cared how bad at it anyone was. My mom has had 4 kids and she put the diaper on backward! He flat out refused to do it, even though the other two guys there tried. When I had shown him how to do it previously with just the two of us in the room, he was incredibly resistant then. Well he's going to have to learn to do it eventually.

Any time he has to use his brain or be responsible, he acts like a child. My mom keeps saying that many men grow up rather quickly once there's a real baby involved. I hope she's right, because if he continues to act this way after the baby is born, then he won't be allowed to see him at all. It's better to have one mature, responsible parent who is happy and able to take care of you and provide the nurturing and positive role modeling a child needs than to have 2 parents when one of them is unreliable and a bad influence. I don't want a son who is weak and feels like everything should be done for him. All men should be able to show emotion, to be able to hug other men, to cry when the want to. But just because you are in touch with your emotions does not mean you should be an immature crybaby who can't even take care of themselves.

I'm so tired of this. Why can't he just grow up and take responsibility for himself?

I know I whine alot, btw. Sometimes, though, I have reason to.

--Dragon Read more!

Google Fun

Hehe... I googled "the wee dragon" and my blog came up as the second link. Then I googled "dance among the stars" and I came up as the 4th link. :) I feel special. I can google myself! (Btw, isn't it awesome that "google" has become a verb?)

--Dragon Read more!

10 Things

I'm bored and can't sleep. Damn pregnant belly and mooshed bladder. Oh well. So for my personal entertainment, I shall post a random list. Lists = Fun! :)

10 Things I wouldn't want to live without, in no particular order. I could live without them, but then what would be the point? :)

1. Bleach Pen-- Awesome. I don't have many white clothes, but I do have plenty of clothes with white on them, and I seem to have some sort of magnetic properties when it comes to stains. If it weren't for my bleach pen, I would have thrown away about half my wardrobe by now.

2. Spray butter-- As in "I can't believe it's not butter spray" With just this, lemon juice, and a little salt and pepper, I can make the best barbecued chicken in the world (a fact supported by everyone who has come to one of my barbecues).

3. Throw blankets-- I have a weird obsession with blankets. Anything really soft and fuzzy, or with a neat design, or some other novel feature (I have a fuzzy lime green blanket with the texture of a poodle), I have to have. I've gotten more blankets on clearance at Hottopic than most people have bought in their entire lifetimes.

4. Wireless Mice (Mouses?)-- I'm left handed (I'm a left-handed activist. That's right. I feel that us southpaws should band together to battle our right-handed oppressors. Do you know how hard it is to find a good left handed can opener or scissors? I rest my case.) and several other people use my computer on a regular basis. They all use their right hands to mouse (even my left handed brother... traitor!) and it's very handy to be able to move the mouse around the desk without dealing with a bunch of cords. Also good for long online gaming sessions where you get lazy and put a book on your lap with the mouse on it so you can slouch in the chair.

5. Parenthesis-- This is pretty self explanatory if you've read anything else I've written. :)

6. Shoeboxes-- I adore organizing things. Shoeboxes are fantastic for this purpose, and have the added bonus of being a generally uniform shape and size, good for stacking multidious (I'm pretty sure that's not a real word) shoeboxes in cupboards for maximum organizational fun.

7. Office supplies-- I always loved going back to school for the sole reason that I got to go shopping for school supplies. There is nothing better than organizing a fresh binder or opening a new notebook and writing in it for the first time.

8. Snapple Peach Iced Tea-- Tasty refreshing bliss.

9. Sharpies-- Need I have a reason? Sharpies are wonderful. It's great to take them along on roadtrips (when I'm not driving), to concerts, or anywhere that I'll be sitting still for a long time. I make fantastic "tattoos" on myself or others that come out looking really neat. (and yes my mother has told me on countless occasions that I'm going to get ink poisoning.) They wash off really easily (hint: hand sanitizer or other alcohol based product works wonders. just slather up the area, rub with a washcloth, and then wash with soap and water.) Example from my trip to Ozzfest:


10. Bittorrent-- I am poor. I am cheap. I'd almost never get any new music if it weren't for Bittorrent. Yes, I know, I'm a horrible person and a pirate. Actually, that's pretty cool-- Arrggggg. I'm a pirate :p

--Dragon Read more!

New Template!

I was bored with the old template. I don't really like any of the stock templates, but my knowledge of HTML is terribly limited and none of the free templates I could find were what I was looking for. I found out how to add a picture to your header here, and so I messed around on photoshop for a while (Photoshop is fast becoming my new favorite program. And I thought I was awesome with Paint!), until I came up with this one, and just found the template that went the best. So Yay!

--Dragon Read more!

The Space Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

I had a rather nice day today. The weather was nice. I didn't have any errands to run or anything to clean. I wandered aimlessly through the mall and looked at cell phones (alas, I hate being poor. I miss my cell!), bought some lunch for Erik and I, had a lovely pedicure a la my little brother, and a nice barbecue with my family and some of our neighbors. Days like these are wonderful in their complete mundane-ness.

Last night I scanned and photoshopped a picture of my mom from the year before I was born. (It had some water damage and was stuck to the glass of the picture frame it was in) She was a model for a short time. Isn't she beautiful?



--Dragon Read more!

Why Do They Call It A Baby Shower...

...When there are no babies to be *seen* and all the showering was done prior to arrival?
hehe.

I had my baby shower on Saturday. My best friend Sara organized it. It was done up in lime green and navy (two of my favorite colors) and everything matched right down to the refreshments. We played games and opened presents. In general it was pretty fun.

Of course one of my friends decided to spill the beans that the baby is a boy, despite the fact that I have been incredibly adamant that I do not want Erik's family knowing the gender beforehand. That rather pissed me off, but oh well. There's always the slight possibility that it's a girl. If it is, then I'll laugh at all of them for ignoring my wishes and getting me a bunch of manly-man boy stuff ;). We'll know soon enough. The other thing that really bothered me was another friend, Samantha, who knows me very well and whom I have told about my decision not to breastfeed, asked whether I was or not (in front of 10 other people including Sara's boyfriend and Erik's mother and aunt), and pressed me for my reasons why when I said that while I was fully aware of the benefits, I wasn't going to do it. I was really uncomfortable with her asking that in front of everyone, and continuing to press me even after I said several times that I would discuss it with her later. Finally I said, "Can we all just stop discussing my boobs now? Let's play a game, shall we?"

Overall, however, it was really nice and I'm very glad that Sara was the one doing the organizing, because she did a fantastic job.

--Dragon

BTW, what is it about pregnancy that suddenly makes people feel like they should be privy to the most intimate details of your life? Come on people, you all know how much of a private person I am. Have a little restraint. Read more!