Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Self-Harm Awareness Day

     Today, March 1st, is Self-Harm Awareness Day. I know that I don't really have any readers right now, but I'm hoping that anyone who needs to see this will. I'm also hoping that I can educate at least one person on to why this day is so important.

     For starters, I'll explain what exactly self-harm is. Self-harm is when a person harms themselves, usually in order to make their emotional state feel better. Different ways of self-harm including cutting, eating disorders, burning, flogging, scratching, some forms of hair pulling, infecting one's self, breaking bones... This list is so very much longer than what I listed and I don't even know all of the different ways to hurt one's self.

     A rough estimate is that 4% of the population suffer from self-harming themselves. The thing is, that's only what is known about. Most people do their best to keep things like this secret so it can't be easy to accurately measure how many people hurt themselves.

     There are a lot of people out there who will look at somebody who self-harms and think "Ew, what a freak!" or "That person is crazy!" You know what I have to say to those people? Get the fuck off my website. If you're not going to be a kind enough person to even see when somebody needs help, I don't want anything to do with you. Go educate yourself and get a heart before you come back.

     If you're the type of person who is just now learning about depression and self-harm, you should go here. That link will take you to a non-profit organization's website. They're called To Write Love On Her Arms. The group is doing what they can to make a difference and bring awareness to depression and self-harm. That link will take you directly to their facts page so you can learn more.

     If you're somebody who suffers from depression or self-harm, know that I will always be here for you. I'll do whatever I can to help anyone who needs it. If you don't want to talk to me, or even if you do, go here. They can help you. That link is a direct link to the TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms) help page. They have different phone numbers and websites to find somebody who can professionally help you.

     Usually I try to write about upbeat things because I like making people laugh, but this isn't something that I'm going to skip over just because it isn't the happiest subject in the world. This is something that needs attention brought to it. Too many people die every year because of depression and self-harming. Too many people die every day because of it, even though there's something that everyone can do about this.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I Liked Throwing Things

     Right now, I'm talking to Brother. I have just come to the realization that I really had nothing to do when I was little. My family didn't believe in sitting in front of the TV or playing video games for hours on end, so we didn't have any of that stuff.

     (For any young readers who can't imagine life without electronics, take a deep breath to stop the shock and panic. Are you breathing again? Good. Now, go outside and play with a Frisbee or play tag or something. It's actually a lot more fun than sitting on your butt for five hours, staring at a screen.)

     The thing is, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I didn't even really play with toys. I mean, I would play with Barbies (before I had my intense and unreasonable fear of living dolls, which I actually still have). I also loved stuffed animals (still do, actually). But I didn't play with most toys, at least not when I was outside playing with my friend who lived across the street. Except for a toy cat; that thing went everywhere with me.

     This all started because Brother said he heard a weird water dripping sound in his new house. It's slowly driving him insane, or to be more accurate, even more insane than he already is. Before he told me it was coming from an interior wall, I suggested it was the neighboring teenager who he has yet to me. I suggested that she was throwing rocks at the wall.


Rachel: Maybe it's that teenager next door neighbor throwing rocks at your wall?
Brother: no it's somewhere next to/behind my bathroom and my parents bathroom
Rachel: oh
Brother: why would they throw rocks at my wall
Rachel: Entertainment
Rachel: To get your attention
Rachel: To destroy your wall
Brother: oh
Brother: yeah
Rachel: To see how far they can throw rocks
Rachel: To see how much the rock will break
Rachel: um
Rachel: To see if it is, in fact, a rock
Rachel: I'm running out of ideas, but I did half that shit when there was nothing else to do xD
Brother: lmao
Rachel: I was a deprived child xD
Rachel: And we had a lot of really big rocks and side walk all along the house
Rachel: OH
Rachel: To see if they could make a spark!
Rachel: That was one of my favorites
Rachel: I liked fire a lot

     The more I think about it, the more I think that I just loved to throw things. We would freeze water bottles so that they would melt and be cold until we drank them while playing outside. Couldn't get the lid of? Throw that thing until the lid burst off. Knowing now that the sharp and flying pieces of plastic could have taken an eye out, I consider myself very lucky.

     Big bug? Throw something at it. Mean person? Throw something at them. Boredom? Pick up the closest, non-breakable thing, and throw it until another source of entertainment came along.

     What about now, you ask? I still like throwing things. If I actually cared about sports, I would totally become a baseball pitcher. Unless my views change, I'll just have to buy a tennis ball to throw at the wall of my new house when I have nothing else to do.

My New Home

     I have had a fairly boring day. I woke up to a text from my Daddy and he told me to call him, but I had to do other things so I did those other things. (The other things include showering, applying make-up, doing my hair, and then going to the orthodontist to have the rubber band on my tooth reapplied because it was coming off for some unknown reason.) After that, I called Daddy.

     My dad's dad is my Pawpaw. He's had a lot of health problems, including cancer and diabetes. Do to the fact that Daddy never texts me so early in the morning unless something is wrong, I knew either Pawpaw was in the hospital or Memaw (my dad's mom) had broken something (she's broken her foot like three times before it could heal). Since he hadn't called, but texted, I knew it wasn't a huge emergency.

     It turns out, Pawpaw had to get his gallbladder out. He's in the hospital for observation for a few days, but everything went well. I was asked about school. I said that my throat hurt. Then we got off the phone because he had to go back to work and I don't think either one of us have the ability to hold long phone conversations (except when I talk to Sissi or Sis; we literally talk until somebody falls asleep).

     After that, Momma and I went to Wal-Mart. I mentioned before that I'll be moving out soon. I'm only moving next door. "Well, Rachel, what's the point of moving out?" Oh, I'm glad you asked (every single one of my mom's friends). I am moving out because I would like space, independence, and the ability to say that I am an actual adult.

     One of the deals to get my new home is that I have to fix it up, instead of paying rent right away. This is not a problem for me. My mom is helping me. Well, it's mainly my mom's friends, since they're doing the work. The lady who got me the job and her husband have been working there almost every single day. Of course, they're getting paid, but I was originally going to help out before I got sick and they did almost everything in a week.

     When I first took the home, there were many, many, many things that were wrong with it. For starters, it some how smelled so badly that it was checked for dead bodies. (No dead bodies were found, aside from roaches and spiders.) The locks needed to be changed. The windows were insulated so that it was almost pitch black and they were rusted shut. The previous window A/C unit was stolen. Three doors and two walls needed to be put up for privacy in the bathroom and two small bedrooms. The bathroom sink had a hole so huge I could see the pipes underneath. The cold caused the pipes to bust and the water to stop working. Bugs were EVERYWHERE.

     There are no more live bugs. Thanks to the bug killer guys, all the bugs are dead. I also have a few traps over there, just in case that one or two managed to escape. That mainly left bug bodies but those have really been cleaned up as well.

     The locks were changed, but I want more installed. That is supposed to happen some time this week, but the rain and storms we're supposed to have are supposed to be when the guy gets off of work, thus it may have to wait a little bit longer.

     The source of the terrible, horrible, and nose-bleed-inducing smell was from the carpet padding. That was ripped up, the floors and walls were bleached, and then the smell went away. Unfortunately, the floors need a layer of plywood for extra strength, but that's supposed to happen at the end of the week.

     The bathroom sink will be replaced in a couple of weeks, when I save up enough money. The walls and doors will also be put up, probably around the same time. Almost all of the window insulation has been ripped out (which I got to have a hand in doing before I got sick). The windows now open, but they'll have to be replaced before the walls and doors are installed. Sadly, they won't stay open, and it is a fingertip hazard to try to open them. That shouldn't be a problem though; plus, I can add screen.

     Anyways, I bought paint a few weeks ago, for the livingroom, kitchen, hallway, and the cabinets. I was so excited about that, that I didn't know what to do. When I was asked if I was going to keep the stove, I got all squeaky and happy and hyper because I got to make my first real decision about my new home.

     When we went to Wal-Mart today, I had to pick up a new mop for cleaning and some water because the guy who can fix the pipes hasn't had time yet but gallons of water are needed for cleaning. Then I realized I could actually buy other things- things that I will need when I move.

     I got to buy my first set of dishes today. (Granted, later I decided that since it's only enough for four, I'll need to get more soon.) I got to buy a set of pots, pans, and cooking utensils. Plus, I got to buy cabinet knobs so I can open my kitchen cabinets.

     This may seem boring or like it isn't a big deal, but I'm really freaking happy and excited about this. I'm so much closer to being on my own than I thought I ever would be by this point. I can't even believe it.

P.S. I was just as happy when I discovered that I had TWO whole comments on my last post. Those were my first two comments and I was so unbelievably happy that I couldn't even process it.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

A Fish, Clown Fish

     Today, I was texting Sissi and she sent me a picture of a clown fish her boyfriend's little brother drew for her. It was a really cute gesture and a surprisingly good fish. So I texted back, "That awkward moment when a child can draw better than you (and by you, I mean me)." I was very careful to make sure she knew I wasn't insulting her prodigy-level artistic skills.

     This is Sissi's brother's fish. Her finger isn't bright red, but I had to play with the brightness level and such since it was drawn in pencil, really really lightly.

     Sissi laughed at my comment and told me that I should draw her a fish. We both know I have no ability to draw what so ever but I don't think she fully understood until I sent her back two pictures.

     Sissi replied with "LOL OMH". Then before I could really respond about her typo, she told me what it meant. "Oh my hornets." I replied with, "I thought it meant 'Oh my hagus'." (My little spell checker is telling me that I misspelled hagus but it's not giving me a similar correction, so, oh well.)

     We went back and forth with our OMH translations for a while. After "Oh my hagus", Sissi responded with "Oh my habberdashery." (The spell check says that habberdashery is also spelled wrong. It's a temperamental little thing, isn't it?) I replied to Sissi with "Oh my ham", to which she responded "Oh my horse". I finished things off with "Oh my Harry Potter".

P.S. When I was going through my pictures in my phone so I could put them on here, I came across a picture I took a few months back of a chip I pulled directly out of the bag that looked like a fish. Or an arrow. Maybe it was an arrow chip fish.

P.S. #2 Since I've been sick, it's been easier to drink with straws. My mom bought me a bunch of bendy straws and I told Sissi they were pretty. Since I'm posting a bunch of pictures I sent to Sissi, I figured I would include it.

P.S. #3 Yes, that is toothpaste next to the straws. Our bathroom sink shoots out brown water so we brush our teeth in the kitchen sink.

Friday, February 24, 2012

The Big Dog

     We have two dogs. There's The Big Dog, who this is about, and The Little Dog... who I'll most likely write about later because she's freaking crazy. But no, I must tell you about The Big Dog.

     First of all, The Big Dog is huge. He weighs at least one hundred and ten pounds. Somebody who saw him said that he's grown so he could, quite possibly, weigh more than that. When he stands up, I can sit on him like a horse. (Well, I can but then he walks away because he doesn't like that. He only lets my mom sit on him.) His chain outside is 3/4 inch thick; he broke everything smaller than that and I think his chain will need to be replaced soon. (He's also whittling down the tree the chain is around. I'll have to update with a picture to show what I mean.)

     When he was only forty pounds-ish, he broke a window chasing a truck because it was too loud. When he was about fifty-ish pounds, he completely tore up the couch (stuffing everywhere, huge holes, you could see the floor looking where you would usually sit) because an old neighbor was teasing him through the window that had just been fixed.

     Despite all of that, he's a big baby when it comes to my mom and I. He will sneak up and completely pin us down when he wants attention. When he wants food, he'll sneak up, take it ever so carefully, and trot like a horse while grinning in success. He protects the cats, The Little Dog, and my bunny like they were his puppies. (Considering Momma took away his ability to have puppies, he could be confused since they're all so small compared to him. Then again, he's also made up of two working dogs, so that could be it.)

     Even though The Big Dog as split personalities, he's not usually crazy. I mean, he acts crazy when it comes to people being in his sight, but he's actually pretty sane... Or that's what I always thought. Tonight, only an hour or so ago, he made me wonder if I was wrong.

     He was walking over to the door to do his ritual of sniffing it to check if anybody was outside before he went to go lay down. All of the sudden, he paused and turned like he was going to bite his tail. Then he growled at his butt. The Big Dog growled at his butt. Then he continued on his way like nothing happened.

UPDATE: Here is that picture of The Big Dog's tree that I promised. You can also see the smaller chain that he broke but got tangled in the bigger one, which he still uses.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Wisdom Teeth Removal

     Guess what? I'm stuck in bed, sick, for the second time this month! I'm not sure what exactly happened. My throat hurt and one hour later, I was laying in bed with a fever and fighting the urge to throw up all the food I hadn't eaten. I had to cancel going to Boss Lady's house because I don't want to pass my gross and rather mean sick germs to anyone, especially The Youngest.

     Since I'm stuck in bed, I really don't have much to write about. I could I write about this weird cold-virus-thing, but that wouldn't be very much. (Last night, I kept waking up. My nose wasn't stuffed up but it kept not letting me inhale. It went something like this: "-peacefully sleeping, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inha..gaspchokegag, suddenly wake up in a panic- OH SHIT. AM I DYING? I'M GOING TO DIE. D'= -remember that I have the ability to breath through my mouth, breath through my mouth, calm down again-" Then I would repeat the entire process about two hours later.)

     Yeah, that's about all the interesting stuff I had to say and I've been terrible about posting lately, so I was able to come up with something! (Even though I'd like to take the credit, this little memory was inspired by this post, which you should totally go check out because I laughed so hard I cried. Twice.)

     Not long after my birthday last year, I got my wisdom taken out. All four of them. The bottom two were growing in sideways and since I had to go through hell with other teeth removal and braces (which I should be getting off soon, yay!) Mr Tooth Surgeon said that I needed to get all four of them out at once... even though the top two wouldn't have caused issues for months, maybe longer.

     My mom took me for my surgery really early one morning. To be honest, I was terrified. When I was hooked up to the heart machine thing (you know, the one that beeps when your heat beats?), Miss Nurse and my mom kept staring at the machine and back to me, like they were worried something was very wrong.

     Then I was given and IV and the face mask. My mom said, "Oh, that IV will just keep you hydrated and the face mask is just oxygen. You'll get another IV when it's time to knock you out." After The Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, and The Tooth Fairy, I really shouldn't have believed her. The last thing I remember is giggling at something and thinking, "I have no reason to giggle at this. Why is this so funny?"

     According to what I've been told (by the same lady who lied to me for eight years about Santa Clause, but hey, this has a pretty good chance at being true), I was pretty happy being all drugged up on sedatives. My mom was in charge of having me say the alphabet until I passed out.

Me: A..B..C..D..E..F.........H..
Mom: What happened to G?
Me: -uncontrollable laughter- It ran away!
Mom and the nurses: -snickersnickersnicker-
Mom: Where did it run away to?
Me: Shhhhhhhhhhhh. It's a secret! -more uncontrollable giggling-

     I don't know how long I was out, but I was shaken awake by the nurse and dragged down this long white hallway. It's a good thing I was still pretty sedated because I probably would have thought I was dead otherwise. I mean, I went through a long white hallway that (according to my fuzzy memory) resembled a tunnel with a bright light (which I now know was the sunlight) at the end.

     I don't remember a lot from that point on until we got to the bank, so Momma could withdraw some money to get my pain medication. At some point, despite it being ninety degrees out, I started shivering because that's a side effect from the anesthesia wearing off. Apparently, I refused to wait in the car and tried to walk into the bank like everything was fine. Then I collapsed in a chair. I vaguely remember the tellers yelling at my mom to take me home and my mom arguing, "Tell her that! She won't listen!" but I think I blacked out for a few minutes.

     Then we went to WalMart to get all three of my medications filled (pain, infection prevention, and anti-nausea). I decided I was strong enough to walk all by myself, even though I was stumbling like a drunk and struggling not to pass out. My mom told me, "Wait here", and then asked the lady at the door for a wheelchair. Mom walked up behind me with it and told me, "Rachel, sit". Since she had already taken my phone away and was in charge of giving me my medication, I sat. I started moving and then I realized I was in a wheelchair.

     WalMart was mostly a blur, but we had to wait fifteen minutes for the prescriptions to be filled. The main thing I remember was that my mom wanted to pick up some candles so she put them in the wheelchair seat with me. We went around a corner and some wild little kids saw me. Keep in mind, my face was swollen and there was nasty bloody gauze stuffed in my mouth, plus I was wrapped in a blanket and looked completely drugged. Not a pretty sight. They must have agreed because they ran back to their parents and didn't leave them the entire time we were in the store.

     Sadly, seconds after that, the candles in my lap fell onto the ground. They didn't break but they did roll away a few feet. For some reason, that was an absolutely terrible thing that depressed me to the point that I started crying in the middle of WalMart and apologizing (or attempting to, at least) because I dropped the candles even though it wasn't my fault.

     Right after leaving WalMart, I was rushed to a nearby gas station and into the bathroom. Upon looking at myself in the mirror, I discovered that I looked like a vampire with a swollen face who was very messy when it came to eating dinner. Then I had a panic attack and started crying again because I really don't like blood and the gauze got stuck on my braces.

     I must have passed out in the car because I don't know how I got inside. I was told that an old neighbor had stopped by and helped me up the stairs and into bed, but I can't remember. Some time after that, I woke up crying because I wanted my pain medication. Then I was hungry and all my mom would give me was pudding or soup. Then a few days later, I was allowed to have mashed potatoes. Then I was mad because I was tired of pudding, soup, and mashed potatoes. But eventually I was allowed to be off of the medication and all was well again. During all of that, there were also moments when I was hysterically amused for little to no reason.

     P.S. It has since been decided that it's a good thing I've never really had an interest in drinking or drugs because I was so emotionally unstable.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Grammys 2012

     Originally, I wrote out a lot of what I saw on the 54th annual Grammys with my little comments, but then I came to a little problem. When I copied and pasted from email (after having my mom proof-read it for me), it only comes up as a big white block. So I literally have to retype every single word. I decided it would just be easier to keep certain parts of it.

     Bruno Mars took the stage in a very flashy performance of a song I had never heard before. Considering the fact that I don't really like his music, it wasn't too bad. The thing was, there were so many bright lights and so much gold that it really hurt my eyes. It was so flashy and bright that it was almost like looking into the sun. I should probably get my eyes checked. It was pretty funny when he told everyone to "get of their rich asses and celebrate the music and Whitney Houston" though. The best part, for me, was that my mom thought he was a girl.

     Jack Black was outside of the building, as an announcer. I don't know most of what he said but I did catch "The Grams" a lot. I can only assume that "The Grams" means "The Grammys", but it's Jack Black, so there's really no telling what he meant. My mom has a theory he wasn't even allowed in, but I'm not so sure.

     Rihanna and Coldplay performed together right after the commercial break. It started with Rihanna being alone on the stage, surrounded by firework-spark-things and sounding very whiny. I still can't make any sense of it. The song then picked up beat, gained back-up dancers, and back up-singers. It was okay, but a little repetitive. However, I'm not sure some of the dance moves are even allowed on TV, for fear of scaring or corrupting young audiences. Once Coldplay joined the performance, it was a lot better, but the damage with the dancing had already been done.

     Nicki Minaj's performance was... I don't even know the word. It started out with something that reminded me of I Feel Pretty from Westside Story. Then it went into some weird scene called The Exorcism of Roman that looked like The Exorcism of Emily Rose. The the actual performance started, with her strapped to some table but sitting up, surrounded by people in religious type clothing that were dancing around before Nicki broke free. Then they started singing a prayer or a hymn before going back into rap while Nicki was lifted off the ground, asking for her mother's forgiveness? It's not something I understand, like the lyrics to the song. It seems she has talent but she's just not using it right. It also appeared that she's a Lady Gaga wanna-be, but hey, I know nothing about her.

     These are my most memorable moments from the Grammys, along with the memorial for all of those in music who passed away within the last year, including Amy Whinehouse and Whitney Houston. I didn't get to type all of the names of those who passed away, but my prayers are with their loved ones.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Weird Sleeping Stories

     This is yet another post Brother, sort of. He suggested I tell school stories and I thought about splitting them up by category so it wouldn't be crazy long. Then I realized I have way more crazy sleeping stories that I could tell you, besides the times I fell asleep in class. Thus, it turned into this.

Third Grade:
     The first time I fell asleep in school was third grade. My teacher was actually really nice, but everyone called her The Wicked Witch Of The West before Christmas because she didn't put up with any crap and my class was one of the really wild ones. The really cool thing was, about once a week and before any big tests, she would tell us to take a deep breath and scream as loud as we could to relieve any stress. How awesome is that?

     One day, she was teaching us about something. I want to say that it was math because I hate math and it bores me, but I could be wrong. After all, it literally bored me to the point I was falling asleep, so you can't blame me for not remembering exactly what it was.

     Our chairs were set around round tables so she would walk around them and through them when she taught us. I was really super tired that day and the only thing I wanted was to go home and go to bed. I closed my eyes and opened them really fast whenever I heard her pass behind my chair, so she wouldn't think I fell asleep and yell at me.

     Well, eventually, I put my arm on the table to support my head. That's the last thing I remember until somebody tapped my shoulder. Actually, it was more like they pushed my shoulder because I nearly face-planted the table before I jumped awake.

     The teacher had probably walked a total of five steps in between the time I fell asleep and the friend from the table behind me forced me to wake up. I still don't know if I should be mad that they woke me up because I was REALLY tired but I also hated sitting out at recess.

Fifth Grade:
     When I was in fifth grade, we had this free day at the end of every grading period. As long as you didn't get into serious trouble and passed all of your classes, then you were taken to the lunch room to sign up for something you wanted to do. One time, my friend and I got our nails done by the teachers. There were a lot of sports and movies that you could go to. There were a lot of artistic things, such as painting and making jewelry. I think you get the idea.

     My friend and I were struggling to find something good, since we had either done it or it just sucked, so we were pretty happy when we saw a Beethoven movie. Naturally, we thought it was about the Saint Bernard that always got into trouble but was completely lovable, even though he drooled every where and that was gross.


     We took our seats and the movie started up. It was about the famous musician. I was very sad and disappointed by that. Granted, I loved music and I wouldn't have minded watching that movie any other time, but I wanted to watch a funny movie about a Saint Bernard who drooled over everything.

     It took me about five minutes to put my head on the desk and completely pass out. If I couldn't watch the movie I had gotten my hopes up for, then I was going to take a nap and nobody could stop me! Actually, I didn't even know if I could get in trouble, but I didn't really care either.

     My friend woke me up when the bell rang and we walked back to class together. I felt like I had drooled all over the place (ironic, huh?) so I kept wiping at my mouth. When we got to the stairs that led to our class, we saw the cute class couple doing the Waltz on the way back and I had to wonder if I was dreaming. I wasn't.

At The Library:
     If you read my previous post, then you'll know about my psychiatrist dream. It happened about a year and a half ago. I stayed up all night, desperately trying to talk to a girl I never knew, to convince her that she shouldn't commit suicide. In the end, the cops had to be called to stop her, but she was saved and that's what matters.

     I literally never slept that night. My mom had promised to drive me to the library and to the duck pond so  I could take some pictures. (I love photography but that's never really been a dream. Eventually, I'll probably put pictures on here, but that sounds like a lot of work right now.) Well, I didn't want to leave until I was sure the girl was okay.

     After having a mental and emotional break down when I thought she had gone through with it, I was told that the cops had gotten there in time to stop her. You have no idea how happy that made me. Since she was okay, I went and took a shower so we could leave.

     We went to the duck pond first and I took a bunch of pictures. I didn't have a camera so I had to use the one on my phone but the quality came out surprisingly well, which made me even happier. But I was really tired and I wanted to go to bed.

     We went to the library and I went off on my own to look at books. That was a mistake. I'm guessing that I never found anything. One minute I was looking at books and the next, I had traveled across the library to where my mom was. I still can't remember what happened. I am convinced I fell asleep walking.

At Sissi's House:
     Last year, I got to spend an entire week at Sissi's house. It was awesome and fun and crazy. The week was also far too short. Actually, it was ten days because I stayed an extra weekend too, but it went by way too fast.

     During the day, we just hung out. Unless we were completely alone, we didn't really talk. That's probably my fault, since as I mentioned, I'm terribly shy in person. I can talk to Sissi about anything (and believe me, I have) but I guess my social abilities died when her family was around?

     At night, we could never shut up. I'm not even kidding. We would be really tired so we would lay down to go to sleep. It usually started, "This one time" or "Remember that time" or "Hey, did I tell you about" and then we would talk non-stop until we literally fell asleep talking.

     "So, Sissi, I don't think I told you about what happened a couple weeks ago. I was at the store and-" (This is where there would be snoring, but I don't snore, so there isn't.) "Yeah, I think you told me about that Rachel. I don't think I told you about when-" (Sissi doesn't snore either, but I think you get the idea.)

During Homework:
     When I was little, I think I had sleep apnea. (Stupid spell check is trying to tell me that "apnea" isn't a word, but Google said it is. Stupid spell check is stupid.)

     Like any normal kid, I would play outside while it was still light out. My curfew was to be inside before the streetlights came on so I didn't want to waste precious time doing homework when I could be out there saving animals! (Baha, another reference to my childhood dreams posts. I guess that means you should go read it, if you haven't yet.)

     After playing and trying to save any animals, I would go inside to eat dinner and do my homework. Usually, I would sit on the couch while I did the work, or even to read. I preferred to be in the main room because my room was creepy as hell.

     No matter what I was doing, reading or doing homework, I would pass out right in the middle of it. It didn't matter if I was tired or not. I would fall asleep right on the papers, pencil still in hand, if I was holding one. My mom would walk in the room, wake me up, and tell me I had to finish what I was doing. I would sit up to do it and next thing I knew, she was shaking me awake and telling me to finish my homework again.

Monday, February 13, 2012

First Night Of Babysitting

     As I have mentioned before, I work as a babysitter. Two nights ago was the first night I actually babysat for the family I'll be working for. Let's just say, I've never had a babysitting experience like it before, but I mean that in the 'awesome I can't wait to do it again' way.

     Since it was my first time babysitting for them and it was really late at night (I'm talking leaving the house at 7:30 pm and staying until 2:30 am), my mom's friend (who got me the job in the first place) offered to stay with me. Upon arriving, I met the two older boys and greeted the baby girl, but their mom was still in the shower.

     I also noticed that they were watching the end of The Lion King, which is my favorite movie. It was a proud moment to know that kids of this generation haven't all succumbed to the crap that's on TV now, that teaches bad habits and that you can't live without a boyfriend (for example, Twilight).

     Mom's friend was their babysitter before she took a new job, so she knew the kids. I've only babysat younger kids so I really didn't know what to do, plus I have almost zero social skills and I'm shy anyways. We did have a nice conversation about how I wrap all presents in duct tape because my family has a tradition of making presents as hard to open as possible. Some years, even super glue is involved- Anything to keep the gift receiver from peeking at their present.

     Eventually, their mom came out from her shower, to talk to us while trying to get ready. Boss Lady, as I will call her, is incredibly nice. She and her husband, Boss Man, are possibly the nicest people you could ever work for. I'm not even kidding. You'd have to meet them to fully understand, but I will do my best to explain it.

     She was still trying to get ready so she straightened her hair in the living room, while talking to Mom's friend and I. She asked how I was, so I told her that I was nervous. I'm not the type of person to lie unless there's absolutely no choice and I didn't see any point in it anyways. She looked all confused and asked why I was nervous, so I told her, "Well, The Youngest has been with you since birth and never really had a babysitter, so I'm expecting a lot of crying."

     Boss Lady then told me, "This isn't a make or break deal. I don't expect you to work some miracle and have her go to you tonight. She probably won't go to you for a while, which is why I want you to hang out here when you have the time before I go back to work. The Oldest can put her to bed and The Middle Child can make her bottles. You're just here for adult supervision. We probably won't even leave until she's in bed around 10:30."

     Boss Man called her not too long after that, for her to go pick him up from work. She had to leave in sweats, hair not even half done and still pretty wet, even though it was around twenty-two degrees outside. Mom's friend told me that Boss Lady wouldn't be back with Boss Man for at least an hour and she was absolutely positive that they wouldn't even leave for their date until 11:30.

     After Boss Lady left, the older kids continued to play with The Youngest. Every time The Middle Child tried to put her down to leave the room, she would start crying and crawl after him as fast as she possibly could. When she would catch up to him, she would desperately grab onto his pants (to the point that they would almost fall down) while pulling herself up. It was both sad and sweet.

     There was a lot of horsing around, but nothing else really happened. The Oldest tried to put The Youngest to bed, but she just wasn't willing to sleep. Other than that, we just watched horrible TV. Horrible TV, as in, Mom's friend picked reality shows. Actually, it's probably a good thing she did, because I saw that Whitney Houston died and I was able to warn my mom so she wouldn't have to hear it from the news.

     Just like Mom's friend predicted, Boss Lady and Boss Man didn't get back for over an hour. Boss Lady had gotten out to get gas. Since nobody (I hope) is stupid enough to leave the car running, she shut the engine off, but she left the heater running so Boss Man wouldn't freeze. Unfortunately, their car takes so long to fill up, that they killed the battery of the car.

     Boss Lady explained, "When Boss Man got out to ask for somebody to give us a jump, he might as well have been asking for a kidney. Nobody was willing to help us." Nice to know such awesome people are in this world, right?

     Since both Boss Man and Boss Lady had to get ready to go, Mom's friend and I left to go get pizza. In the time it took me to walk out the door, across the yard, and get into the car, I was shivering so bad that my hands looked like I was unable to control severe muscle spasms that could possibly end in punching myself in the nose. Luckily, that didn't happen.

     When we got to the pizza place, I went to open the door, but a guy walked out of the joined gas station next door and said they wouldn't let me in. Apparently, after a certain time, they only use the drive-thru. He then started cackling and rushed to his car saying, "I'm gonna beat you there! I'm gonna be in line before you!" He very well could have been high as a kite, or just crazy. I'm not really sure.

     I went into the gas station and got our drinks before getting back into the car. Like the strange guy guessed, he was indeed in line before us. We were the last people in line and once our order was taken by a guy, a women went to the window. She had a rather rude attitude and basically demanded us to repeat the process of taking the order.

     Mom's friend called her a bitch as she walked away and it took nearly ten minutes for our pizzas to finish cooking. We ended up with a free pizza. The women passed it through the window and said, "The beef isn't that great but we were going to throw it out." Mom's friend said that she probably spit in it. I'm almost positive that she's right.

     The drive back to the house couldn't have been longer than ten minutes, but my legs felt like the skin was slowly being burned away from how hot the pizza was. The cold air from getting out was actually a relief, though I was shivering when we got back into the house.

     Since I was attempting to balance three large pizzas, I felt like a pizza delivery girl and now have a new found respect for all pizza delivery people out there. Thank you, pizza delivery people, for braving the cold, hot, rainy, and just plain yucky weather to deliver our greasy, fattening, and unhealthy so-called vegetables to us. You deserve more than what I can imagine you get paid.

     Again, just like Mom's friend predicted, Boss Man and Boss Lady didn't leave until 11:30. Luckily, like Boss Lady predicted, The Youngest was already fast asleep in bed. The Middle Child was already falling asleep too, but managed to stay awake long enough to eat pizza before going to his room for sleep.

     The rest of the night was spent doing basically nothing. Since The Oldest didn't take long to fall asleep and Mom's friend and I had run out of things to talk about, we continued to watch bad TV and I texted my nocturnal friends. I could have used the computer but I was falling asleep and knew that I would write a crap-blog-post and lose whatever reader(s) I have. You're welcome!

     I also found out what a Chupacabra is because Mom's friend put it on this show called Lost Tapes. (My spell check says that I spelled it wrong, but you know what? The closest suggestions are "Churchwoman" and "Copacabana". Brother says I'm right anyways so that's what we're going to go with.)

     Apparently it's this creature that looks like a coyote. It leave three puncture wounds in the neck and drains the victim of blood and sometimes, internal organs. Other things I learned is that it could possibly be a science experiment gone wrong, an alien, a coyote with mange, or distantly related to a raccoon. So, my best conclusion is that it's a vampire-dog made in a lab in outer space but related to a raccoon. But I could be wrong, since Boss Man and Boss Lady returned home before it was over.

     Boss Lady went to her room almost right away and Boss Man stayed in the living room with us. He started the car for us, so it would be all nice and warm, then offered us any jackets or sweaters that we wanted to stay warm. He offered to let me take clothing home, even though I had only met him one time prior. How nice is that?

     Eventually, the car was warm enough to leave, so we left. It was 2:31, according to the time on my phone. You know what? I was exhausted. I felt like I was going to pass out in the car and I think I almost did. If the ride lasted longer than fifteen minutes, I'm certain I would have.

     When I got home, I went to my mom and shook her until she was awake enough to tell her that I was home. I told her that her friend was going to take me to the store so I could get her flowers for Valentine's Day (You can say it, I am forever alone! Actually, I just wanted to do something to make her smile.) But it was okay that I told her, because she was asleep, so I told her that too.

     Her response was, "Oh, okay." Cue dramatic pause. "RACHEL. YOU'RE HOME. RACHEL'S HOME." Then she snored.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Childhood Dreams: Then and Now (Part Two)

     This is the second part of the different childhood dreams I had. As I stated in the last post, Brother was the one who came up with the idea, but I really liked it.

The Animal Reserve Dream
     As I mentioned, I love animals. Some time after the vet and teacher dreams ended, I went back to the cowgirl thing, in a way. There was a girl who lived across the street from me and we found this stray cat. We took it in and started feeding it, until he was all happy and healthy. He greeted us every morning and was always there for our amusement when we were playing.

     We also found this scruffy little dog, who had a collar on the other side of our street. We put him on a leash and started looking for the address to take him home, because every animal deserves a loving family. My mom will find this out by reading the blog (haha, surprise Momma!) but I broke her rules and went to the other side of the street. I wasn't allowed to turn the corner but I did anyways, because I knew the address would be on the other side.

     We made it about two houses down before this huge, black truck pulled up beside us. He said that was his dog and he had been looking for him for hours. Thinking about it now, I probably should have asked him what the address was so I could double check it with the tags, but I was just happy that we had found the puppy his home.

     After that, my friend and I decided we wanted nothing more than to have a big farm with a lot of land to take in those poor animals who didn't have a home, and to return lost animals to their homes. We didn't want to be like animals shelters, who kill the animals after three days.

     Do I still want to own an animal reservation? Absolutely. I kind of already do, since I have mostly rescued animals.

The Singer Dream
     When I moved and made new friends, they really got me interested in music and singing. I still wanted to own the animal reservation, but I figured that could be where I lived, while I was making music and traveling the world. I mean, I really loved singing. A lot. I was singing almost constantly, especially with my friends.

     That lasted for a long time and eventually we moved to a new state where I met another friend. She asked me to join her band as a co-lead singer. You guys have no idea how happy that made me. I couldn't stop smiling and we instantly became best friends. We planned everything. We had the band name and logo and who the rest of our band could be. It was pretty awesome.

     Eventually, that dream started to go away. Our band members kept leaving and we never had a place to practice, not once, so I was losing faith. My friend and I decided to try out for American Idol when I was seventeen and she was sixteen, but our friendship ended before that point, so it never happened. One other thing that happened was that I discovered I have hearing loss in both ears from ear infections when I was little. There are many pitches I can't hear, or sing, unless my voice is very soft.

     Do I still want to be a singer? If I could get passed the stage-fright and hearing loss, hell yeah! It'll never happen, but I can dream!

The Writer Dream
     While I was singing, I also got the urge to start writing. I never really knew where my stories were heading, but I had all these ideas I just had to get out on paper. If I wasn't with the friend and/or singing, I was writing. Those were my only two real interests at the time.

     This dream hasn't actually gone away, like the rest have. I still love writing (and singing, but that's already been decided I can't do it). I still write fiction stories, mainly. When I'm inspired, I'll write poetry or song lyrics, but those are almost always related to a very strong emotion and non-fiction, so those are a lot more rare than anything else.

     The problem is that I either come to writer's block or I put too much emotion into the stories, that I don't want to share them. I get very self-conscious with things that I write, that I have had panic attacks while waiting for people to give me their opinions. If anything, I think I could get some of the poems published, but that would be it.

     Do I still want to be a writer? Yes, but for now, only unpublished. Maybe one day I'll become professional, but I need to work on how to deal with criticism first.

The Psychiatrist Dream
     I have known a lot of people who suffer from depression and the things the depression can cause. I've gone through times in my life where I've suffered from it as well. It's horrible and something I wish nobody had to go through. It affects more than just one person but can also destroy other people, especially if a loved one commits suicide.

     I want to make a difference with it. I want to be a person that everyone can go to when they need somebody to talk to. Helping somebody get through the dark thoughts and hard times is what everyone should want to do, but most people choose to ignore. I didn't want to ignore it. For about a month, I decided that was what I wanted to do. Then I discovered a flaw.

     A friend I had, had an online friend who had planned her suicide. The friend asked me to talk to her and try to break through to her because nobody had her address to go and stop her. I stayed up an entire night, talking to this girl and trying to get her see how much the world would miss her. Ten minutes before she had said she was going to do it, she cut off contact with everyone. We thought we failed. I cried like I had lost my best friend.

     For half an hour, I thought I had failed in saving her life. I was completely broken. It felt like it was my fault and that I hadn't been able to do what I had to do. Then my friend sent me a text message. She told me that she had tried to do it, but the cops got there in time to stop her. Somebody, I still don't know who, had managed to use the girl's phone number with the cops, to track down her address and save her life.

     Do I still want to be a psychiatrist? I could never handle it if somebody committed suicide because I couldn't help them. I would never forgive myself. But I will always be there when somebody needs me.

The Daycare Dream
     For a long time, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Nothing really seemed interesting that I thought I could emotionally handle. I would love to save lives, but I hate blood and couldn't handle it if I failed. I would love to do something to be famous, but there's little to no chance of that ever happening. It only goes on like that.

     Then I saw that my dad's youngest sister had opened and was running her own home daycare. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I love kids and I'm actually very good with them, but being a teacher with twenty something kids is too much for me to deal with. A daycare can only legally have six kids per adult where I live, which I could totally handle.

     I've researched it and made plans. I haven't found anything that's discouraged me and everyone I have talked to thinks it's a good idea. Working as a babysitter (on and off since I was twelve and watching my little cousin, until I got my first official job when I was fifteen that lasted a few years, and now again that I'm eighteen) has given me experience and I really like it.

     Do I still want to own and run a daycare? Absolutely. I just need to get everything set up to open it.

Childhood Dreams: Then and Now (Part One)

     This post is Brother's idea, but I think it's pretty darn awesome. Since it's actually pretty long, I'm going to do it in parts. Normally, I'll try to post about what's been going on in my life, but I also want to get the blog fully up and running, which requires more posts. Since I have no life (which seems to be changing, yay!), I'll probably also have a lot of days where I have nothing worthwhile to post, so I'll post about whatever I can think of (or ideas; ideas are always welcome).

The Mommy Dream
     When I was two, I was in a church daycare every Sunday when I went to church (with my dad's mom and his oldest sister). My mom got a phone call on Sunday, from my dad's sister, freaking out because I had gotten into a fight with another little girl. Apparently, I was all happy and smiley and content, playing with one of the dolls at the church. Then some bully girl decided to take the doll away from me.

     I guess I've always been a temperamental person because I hit her. Momma doesn't know if I full out beat her up or if I only hit her, but I was two years old and got into a fight in the church daycare over a doll. Proud day for my family, eh? Well, either way, I was invited back the following Sunday because I was only sticking up for myself. The Pastor (I think? We're not really sure.) even gave me the doll I had fallen in love with. I then took it upon my two year old self to name the doll Baby Girl Jesus and decided I wanted to be a mommy when I grew up, but my doll would be my baby in the mean time.

     Do I still want to be a mommy? One day in the future, yeah, I think I would absolutely love that.

The Teacher's Aid Dream
     When I was in pre-k, when I was three and four (I have a late birthday), I had a really nice teacher's aid that I absolutely loved. She did more work than the actual teacher and was a complete biker chick. She was also a very pretty lady and one of the nicest, sweetest people you could ever meet. Who could blame me for wanting to be like her?

     I don't really remember having this dream but my mom does, so it's difficult to write about. I don't really want to be a teacher's aid anymore, since I don't think I would be able to handle it without completely losing my mind, but I would still like to be like the teacher's aid I had. Even if I could be half the person she was, I would be a very happy person.

The Cowgirl Dream
     In kindergarten, every student got a week where they filled out this huge poster board with their name, favorite color and food, birthday, and the like. Well, the teacher wrote it, but the student provided the information. The week was spent with that student getting to be line leader and the teacher's helper, which was a huge honor for all the four and five year old children.

     I wasn't prepared when it was my week. I was already a really shy kid so when I had to answer questions about myself, I sort of panicked, especially about what I wanted to be when I grew up. People had already picked veterinarian and teacher and all sorts of cool things, but I wanted to be totally different. So I said the first thing that came to mind.

     "I want to be a cowgirl when I grow up."

     The more I thought about it, the more I realized that that would actually be an awesome job to have. I would get to ride horses all day and have a lot of dogs on a really big farm with a really big house. I'd be surrounded by animals, because cowgirls always had animals on their farms. It seemed perfect for me, until I was told that farms are on flat land and tornadoes (one of my biggest fears) were more likely to appear on flat lands than in mountains.

     Do I still want to be a cowgirl? Not so much, but I still want to live on a farm with horses and be surrounded by animals.

The Veterinarian Dream
     Not long after the cowgirl dream failed me, I decided I still wanted to do something with animals, so I decided I would be a veterinarian. I love animals, always have. When I was little, I was always taking in strays and trying to find their owners, or taking care of them myself. Actually, I still do that, which is why we have half the animals we do.

     When I told people about my dream to save animals' lives, they cheered me on. Then I told somebody, who shall go unnamed, who told me, "You'll have to put the animal down if they aren't going to make it." This was right after I had lost my dog. She was twelve years old and had to be put down because everything was starting to fail her. Needless to say, it was hard for a little girl to hear.

     But damnit, I wanted to help some animals! I decided that I would open my own veterinary clinic, that way the people I hired would put the animals to sleep instead of me. Pretty smart for a five year old, right? I thought it was until that same person told me, "You have to have a lot of money and experience to do that." That kind of did it for me. Not only that, but I discovered a few years ago (upon having teeth pulled) that I have a weak stomach for blood.

     Do I still want to be a vet? Not so much, but I'll still help any animal I can.

The Teacher Dream
     The teacher dream and the veterinarian dream sort of happened around the same time. Nobody remembers exactly when the dreams started, which one started first, or anything like that. What we do remember is that I was very passionate about both of them, but the teacher dream lasted longer since flaws were pointed out in my plans to become a vet.

     I played school ALL THE TIME. I'm not even kidding. As soon as I got home from school and did my homework, I would set up my toys and give them work, teach them, and then grade it. It was even better when I had friends to play with, but they weren't very good students, so that lost it's appeal pretty fast.

     Eventually, some time around first grade, we actually played school in school. Every Thursday, I went to this special program for all the advanced students (oh, I am so smart!) for one hour. By the time we got back, only about fifteen minutes were left before the bell. Since seven or eight people from my class went, the teacher would give the rest of the class free time or a group project.

     One day, the teacher for the special advanced class was sick, so we had to stay in the classroom. Since we always missed out on the special projects, even though we had our own, we played a game. We were split up in groups by table and most of us (your's truly, included) were put in charge of the group of five other students. Whoever could get their "class" to behave the best won. My table was the loudest and I lost all courage in being a teacher.

     Do I still want to be a teacher? Not really. I don't think I could handle a room full of screaming kids and since I know how teenagers are, there's no freaking way I would teach highschool. Plus, I REALLY HATE math.

Why I Want Wireless Internet

     As I mentioned before, I have many animals. I'll introduce them all in time, but  let's start with the three that are the main focus on this story. The Kitten is my little girl kitten. Some kids brought her to my house a few months ago and I bottle fed her day and night until she was strong enough to eat on her own. The Blind One is my mom's blind cat. I'm convinced she hates me because every time she's on me, she bites, scratches, and farts. The Shy One is a quiet and skittish all black cat, with incredibly psychotic moments where she runs around like a bat out of hell, for no reason.

     When I sleep, I close my laptop on the table by my bed. It's plugged into the modem. For some reason, the wiring is all weird so it blocks out any good wireless signal. I only unplug it before putting the laptop away in a drawer, when we leave the house, or if there's a bad storm because I don't want it to fry.

     Early in the morning, two days ago, the three cats I just told you about were running around like crazy. The Kitten was being chased by the other two and they were on a rampage. Some how, at least one of them, got tangled in the modem cord and completely jerked it out of my laptop. I woke up when I heard the modem go flying and bang on the floor. Wonderful wake up call, eh?

     After checking it, everything seemed to be in order. The cord was a little lose but it seemed to be working right, so I just decided to count my blessings instead of questioning my luck. Randomly, while using my computer, the internet would go out. I would move the cord a bit and get it back to where it was supposed to be and then it would work just fine again.

     Yesterday afternoon, I was playing a game on the computer (while trying to think of my next blog post) and then my internet went out again. We moved the cords around. We reset the modem. We unplugged everything and then plugged it back in. Finally, we called the cable company and they said they would send a tech guy out on Sunday (tomorrow).

     This morning, I opened my laptop so that I could shut it off. I had to leave it on last night because I charge my cell phone through the laptop, but my phone was beeping that it was fully charged. When I opened the laptop, it magically had internet again. We're still having the tech guy come out to check it though, but that is why I want wireless internet. My animals act like they're on crack-speed-caffeine-sugar. I'm pretty sure that's not a drug and it's a very bad idea to try, but hey, that's the only way to describe it.

Friday, February 10, 2012

My First Marriage

     You're probably thinking, "lol wtf?" because of the title, but I can explain. Yesterday, while I was talking to Brother and Sissi about setting up this blog, we also kept getting sidetracked and talking about other things. One of the things was an article that Brother sent to us.

     The article Brother sent was one about Pizza Hut. It stated that they would provide you with a proposal package, including a pizza and breadsticks as well as a ruby engagement ring, a fireworks display, and a limo ride to the Pizza Hut of your choice (among a few more things), for only $10, 010.

     One thing you should know about my second family is that we constantly joke around and laugh, even if we like the subject of our amusement. Naturally, seeing this package and all being desperately hungry, we had a little bit of fun. Since it was all over Skype, I'm pretty much just going to copy and paste the conversation for you.

Rachel: YES
Rachel: SISSI
Rachel: OKAY
Sissi: oh wait was that pizza hut??
Rachel: That was Pizza Hut
Rachel: OKAY
Sissi: -throws book-
Rachel: WAIT
Sissi: O:!!!
Rachel: OHKAY
Rachel: MARRY US
Rachel: HURRY UP
Sissi: I DO
Brother: WHAT
Rachel: I DO TOO
Brother: OKAY!!!!
Rachel: MMMUAH
Brother: *takes picture*
Brother: *sells to magazine*
Sissi: It's kind of like someone who helps an actor get jobs
Sissi: YES
Brother: YAY
Brother: WHY
Rachel: DUH
Brother: OKAY
Sissi: *MONEY*
Sissi: *PIZZA*
Sissi: *curtains close*
Sissi: *bows*
Rachel: -bowbow-
Rachel: -roses are thrown-
Brother: why would you bow after the curtain closes
Rachel: -applause-
Rachel: The curtain is behind us awesome people. The scene was just covered up.
Brother: oh
Sissi: Yes exactly
Sissi: Thank you Rachel
Sissi: thank you for saving me xD
Rachel: xD You are welcome Sissi
Rachel: You are welcome for saving you
Rachel: That's what spouses do XD

     If we're this crazy when we're all very hungry/sleepy, can you imagine how we would be after a day full of junk food?

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Starting My Blog

     I've been considering starting a blog on and off for quite some time, but I never got around to it. Either something came up or I decided against it or I just forgot about it. About a week ago, I decided it was something that I really wanted to do, so I started attempting to think of names. Since I am terrible at thinking of names, I asked two of my best friends to help.

     I have three best friends that are my second family. They're not really related to me but I love them as much as if they were. Sis is the oldest of us. Sissi is a little younger than I am. Brother is a little bit younger than that. My name is the only one you'll see in this blog and that's what I call them usually anyways.

     Anyways, like I was saying, I asked Sissi and Brother for their help. It only took Brother a few minutes to come up with a name a few days ago. We all liked it and planned that I would use it. Last night, I decided I would go ahead and make the account today because I'm getting very close to doing grown-up things (like working and moving) which will not leave very much time for the things I'm about to tell you about.

     I understand that a lot of URL's are used by other people, so I can't use them. I'm totally cool with that. Good for you people, making your URL's for your blogs and websites and such! What drove me crazy was that I spent two hours trying different names that Sissi and Brother suggested for me (along with the few I could think of). I would list a few of them (since we had some pretty darn funny one's) but I'm not sure the user/owner of the URL would appreciate that very much.

     After two long hours of suggesting names and laughing at each other, Sissi finally suggested my URL. It's from an old term, "When a lion is sleeping, let him sleep." Basically, what she told me it means is, "If it's not broke, don't fix it." It seemed to fit with, well, everything. Plus, it's just good advice!

     Eventually, it was decided that this would be my URL, but then I needed to make my AdSense account. (On that note: There are not currently ads on this blog but there will be within a few days. I will get paid for you clicking on the ad but I do not request nor encourage your ad clicking, unless you actually are interested in it. Don't do it for me. I already have a job and I'm going to take on a second in the semi-near future.)

     It took me about five minutes to fill out the application. I clicked the little button to send the application. Nope! Apparently, the state I live in is not in America. Last time I checked, I was an American citizen, but I guess that changed. After playing around for nearly half an hour, changing the way I typed things and such, I finally discovered the issue. My state's initials are what they were requesting, not to type it all out. I'm not sure if my beginning of a headache was at fault or if it was just a derpy fail.

     Finally! I had created my URL and gotten my AdSense account made! It took nearly about two and a half hours, but I (well, we, since Brother and Sissi were very helpful) had finally done it!

     Then it was time to edit the blog layout and my profile. I'm terrible with electronics (keep in mind, I know what a blog is, as opposed to my mom who still doesn't understand so I don't belong in the Stone Age, as I told her this morning). I took and passed my highschool computer class with an A, but none of it taught me anything about how to deal with blog layouts.

     It didn't take me very long to write up the profile. It's not very hard to name bands or things I like to do. Though I love reading, a lot of it is online. There are even more books that I haven't read in a long time, so I lack the ability to remember the title or author. That was the biggest problem I had so I thought, "Oh hey, this is easy! Perhaps my luck is turning around!"


     It was then time to edit the blog layout, with my lack of computer knowledge and a laggy laptop since my pets decided to mess with the modem cords today. For a while, I thought I was doing pretty well. It seemed pretty easy, which is not something I often say about technological things that are new to me. The more I messed with it, the more difficult it got, but the blog was starting to look pretty cool.

     By the time I was done, I was very happy with the finished product. However, my brain was unhappy with the amount of brain power and thinking that I forced it to do. It wasn't quite a migraine level, but it did feel like I had a bunch of screaming second graders playing a loud game of basketball with the buzzer continuously going off, in my head. But hey, at least it wasn't a migraine.

     I showed the finished product to Brother and Sissi, both of whom seemed to like it, and decided it was time to write my first blog entry. The screaming second graders enjoying their buzzer-filled basketball game seemed to disagree. Luckily, the severity of the headache didn't last long, but it hasn't gone away yet either. I have to do one other thing before I will officially call my day productive, so here I am.

     I know there's not much here now and this isn't the funniest thing ever, but it will get better. I work as a babysitter and I have many animals. One day, I'm planning on opening a home daycare, but that's still a while away. I'm redoing (painting, laying down floor, putting up a wall, installing three doors, etc) a trailer right next door to my mom's (where we both currently live) that I'll be moving into, before I can open the daycare.

     Along with my line of work and insane critters, I'm also related to people that I believe lost their minds upon birth. The only way anyone can possibly friends with me is if, they too, are insane. Can you imagine how crazy my second family is? They had to get passed the "Wow, this chick is crazy" line of thoughts, the simple crazy friend stage, and right into the "haha We are insane enough to belong to this family!" stage. If you take all of that and put it in a blender, that's what this blog is about. I'm just trying to find the words to tell you about it.