A New Year

Amazingly enough, December was a good month.  Did my entire office get laid off in which we all simultaneously panicked?  Yes.  But after a few days of trying to figure out just what in the FUCK we were going to do now it all seemed to calm down.  We all took a breath and looked for other employment.  We all found it...eventually.  I was the first, of course.  Like there was any doubt in anyones mind about that.  I can't handle NOT working.  It's not me.  It's not how I operate.  I did take the entire month to finally make my decision and chose to start the beginning of the new year.  A new year, a new job.  Funny enough it's the exact same job I had before.  Same company even.  Just a different environment.  It's taken some getting used to but it seems to have smoothed itself out nicely.  

I miss my friends though.  My boys.  The ones I've spent the last nine years with.  I've been there for marriages, new homes, births of their children.  They made me laugh.  I don't laugh as much now.

We spent Christmas in Missouri.  Moving my grandmother was challenging, but it kept us from remembering.  At least for the majority of the time.  I teetered between ambivalence and anger.  There wasn't sadness.  The goal was to get my grandmother moved, get her comfortable, and then get the hell out of town.  We accomplished it nicely.  I spent Christmas Eve with my father's side of the family.  That sentence still blows my mind.  Many years I did not even think about those people, and now they're in our lives.  Life is strange.

New Year's was spent at home.  Just Thomas and I.  It was better than any fancy dinner or drunken party.  It was just us.  I wanted the year to finally end and it did.  The year that I couldn't imagine getting any worse.  The year that kicked me square in the ass and then had the nerve to laugh at me.  But it's all over now and now we move on.

I turned another year older this week.  I didn't want to think about it but for a brief moment I was sad when I remembered that she wouldn't be calling me.  There would be no birthday card from her.  The moment passed when I remembered that one year that she forgot my birthday.  She was too busy being a drunk.

Her loose ends are, for the most part, tied up.  The burdens that were hanging over my head for so long are practically gone now.  I know it changed me though.  Permanently changed me.  It's not bitterness, it's reality.  I'm okay with my reality.  I look forward to putting last year behind me and moving forward.  Take all the bad I was given and turn it in to good this year.  Learn from my mistakes and grow from it.  Prove to anything and anyone that I am better for it all in the end.  We all are. 

Really, Jesus? Really?!

Just when you think you can breathe a little sigh of relief as life starts to calm down.  BAM!  Shit just got real, real fast.

It seems that someone wanted me to have a little time off during the holidays and yesterday morning my boss, my co-workers, and I were told that our insurance services were no longer needed by my company.  After 9 years of working with the same people, going to the same office, dealing with the same clients, it's all over.  

I should be in a panic because I'm out of a job, but I'm not.  I just feel like someone died.  Again.

Dear Lord,

Uncle.  Please.  I'm pretty sure I've had my fill this year.  I know you'll only give me what I can handle but I'm at my limit.  Help me out here.

Love,

Mo

Blocked

I am currently suffering from an incredibly awful case of Blogger's Block. In order to get over this I plan to throw out random bullcrap just to see if this gets me over the hump. If it does, Hurrah! If it doesn't, well shit, I dunno.

From the 'I'm the best wife in the history of evar' file:

Thomas has been wanting some bling for a while now. We've wondered from shop to shop, store to store, trying to find the perfect accessory for him. You know the one. Blingy, yet not too blingy. Shiny, but something that doesn't scream, "Hey! I'm a guido! Just need a pinky ring and more chest hair and I'm good to go!". What better way to show your love for all things jewelry while still maintaining your non-douchebag status than to sport some lovely baby blue box bling?



Yes, I know, it's perfect. And even though his birthday isn't for another couple of weeks I couldn't contain my excitement. The day it arrived in the mail I proudly handed him the beautiful box and watched his jaw hit the ground. He knew exactly what it was before he even opened it.

Note the pillow the bracelet came wrapped around. In some places you buy a bracelet and it comes wired down to come piece of velvet lined cardboard. When you buy from Tiffany it comes with it's own PILLOW. And bag. AND box. Lord.Have.Mercy.


From the 'I too am growing tired of talking/hearing about my own weight loss' file:

I can't help it though, it's like I'm obsessed with it. I would bet you that I think about calories and carbs and protein and calories spent and workout routines at LEAST 8-9 hours a day. The rest of the time is filled with eating, sleeping, doing actual work, staring at the TV mindlessly, Mafia Wars, sex, and/or sleeping.

The eating itself is completely insane. I HAVE to eat in order to lose weight. Seriously. How insane is that?! It used to be that I would go one or two days without eating and I'd drop 10lbs like it was nothing. Now? HA! Yea, right. Now if I don't eat, I don't lose weight. I don't gain muscle, I don't lose fat.

Yes, I realize this is not a scientific breakthrough on my part. This has been known for many a years, BUT it's new to me.

I am so very very close to a HUGE goal. So close I can smell it, I can see it. It's hard though. If my eating isn't right I lose all energy. If I eat too much I feel weight down. Eat too little I barely have the strength to lift that curl bar once, let alone the three dozen times I'm supposed to. It's frustrating and exciting all at the same time.

The world outside of our home is a cruel place. Everywhere we turn is food that we shouldn't eat. Food that we can't eat. By can't I mean we can, but unless we want to live on Gaviscon and Pepto the rest of the night it's better that we abstain.

From the 'It's about damn time' file:

Let's all congratulate Thomas on his new writing endeavor - The Quest to be Broly: True Tales From A Non-Gym Rat.

In this blog we will follow my fabulous husband in his quest to become stronger, fitter, an healthier. However, not sexier because, you know, he's already at max capacity for that.

He is funny and witty and there are pictures! So go read it, dammit.


From the 'Welcome to Texas! Now let's drink beer and play with firearms' file:

Last weekend was my annual office Christmas party out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. The greatest thing about being in the middle of nowhere is you can have bad aim and worst case scenario you might shoot a tree. Or a cow. Whichever.

You may find the entire set of photos here but these are a few of my favorites:


It was cold out there. Like super duper freezing red nose cold. The booze and the Baileys in my coffee definitely helped.


I think someone was feeling pretty good at this point. We all headed out to the field to get our shootin' on.


Moo


He is so very very gangster.


Ugh. Seriously. Must I cheese it up in every single fucking picture?


There we go. Much better. Bad ass status: Confirmed!


Speaking of bad asses...


The bad assness was short lived. Oh well. At least I look cute with my pink gun.


We are so super cute. Finished shooting, heading back to the house for warmth. And more beer.

AAACCCHHHOOO!!!11tybillion!!!

There are several downsides to working with people who have small children at home. Other than the standard blah blah bullcrap that you have to hear about on a daily basis ("Oh my goodness, little Johnny said just the most ADORABLE thing last night at dinner." Eyeroll eyeroll eyeroll eyeroll) there is the chance that at some point you will be infected with some sort of disease thanks to them.

You have to admit, kids are pretty gross. They don't cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze, they pick their noses, and they shit on themselves for the first 2 to 3 years of their life. They are small cheeky bundles of walking germ infestation. I'm saying all of this because I am sick. Sick sick sick. And I'm putting the blame solely on the people I work with and their spawn because it's my blog and I'll do whatever I want.

Moving right along...

The Christmas parties on Friday and Saturday were both a success. Thomas and I looked lovely on Friday night and spent the evening rubbing elbows with his co-workers and also making fun of the drunk people/uncoordinated people on the dance floor. There was a decent mixture of both. I would like to tell you that I have pictures of the evening but I do not. I do, however, have a picture of myself with Santa (dude had a real beard and all. I even tugged on it.) but I seemed to have brought my extra chin with me that night so that's a big n-o.

I did manage to stay sober at the party (at $6.75 for a Bacardi and Coke I couldn't even afford to get a decent buzz going) and we got home at a decent hour. The next morning was my office party that's held at my boss' ranch each year. A ranch that is almost an hour drive from the apartment. Such a far distance away that I even questioned the decision to go outloud in the car on the way for just lunch and a $100 cash bonus. "Lunch better be good", I told Thomas.

We managed to make it out to the ranch on time and being the only two people there without children both Thomas and I stood and watched as the kids were let loose to run and scream and cry all they wanted. I call it Visual Birth Control and it's quite effective. After lunch some of us made our way out to the fields to do a little shooting (what? you don't bring your guns to your company Christmas party?) and beer drinking. The party was great and it was by far the best I've ever been to since working at my office. The Bailey's in my coffee, the extra $100 cash bonus, and the man by my side made it even better.


Oh and of course there were photos!

Mo's Office Christmas Party -08'! Guns, kids, cows, and liquor - a photo set!

Dammit, I Like Pink

I didn't realize until very recently that my last three major kick-ass purchases happened to involve the color pink somehow.







A pink iPod, a pink phone, and a pink gun - what more could a girl ask for?

I'm thinking the fondness for pink is starting to get out of control...

Have a great weekend, y'all. Pics next week of me shooting my gun and of the two different Oktoberfests that T-Dogg and I have attended. What can I say? We like beer.

Because It's Funny, And Also True

At work, filling out some mundane annual paperwork to verify my employment with a large insurance corporation:

Me: Hey Z, there's a place for me to fill out my marital status. What should I list?

Z: Are you still married?

Me: Well yea, but not for long.

Z: Hmm...I'm not sure.

S (other co-worker): You should list "MTTDB".

Me: WTF does that mean?

S: Married, temporarily, to douche bag.

Me. Bwahahaahahaha!