Following in the Seven Things You Might Not Know About Me trend, tonight I'm going to talk about my insane attachment to my family. I LOVE my family. I HATE being a military spouse only because I can't pack my family and bring them with me on this journey. It breaks my hear that my daughter isn't getting spoiled like I did by my grandparents. She'd already be staying the night with them by now.
I am a Mama's Girl. My mother is one of my best friends, because I can tell her pretty much anything. She gives the best advice ever. When I'm sick, NO ONE makes me feel better other than my Mommy. When I'm sick, she's the only one I want. I hope I'm half the mother to my kids that she's been to us.
I am a Daddy's Girl. My Daddy makes me feel so safe. Daddy takes care of everything. I remember being really little and being afraid of monsters. He made me a monster spray and sprayed anywhere I thought monsters might be to kill them. He gives the BEST hugs.
My sister is my best friend. We are complete dorks when we are together. She is hilarious and fun to hang out with. We also have the worst fights. I don't think I've fought so hard with anyone as I have with her. I don't think I could stay sane most of the time if I didn't have her to talk to.
My brothers are...well...brothers. We love and fight. They're protective and annoying.
Why am I telling you about my family? These are suppose to be about me, right? Well, my family is a part of me. Maybe the most important part. They are where I come from, what made me who I am. Without them, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I am truly blessed by my family.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Seven Little Things
So, I haven't written in a little while, and I realize I've left you guys hanging. Not that I have many followers, but hey. We were on a bandwagon right? Seven things you may not know about me. Off the list I was given of some things about me was how I get SUPER emotional about the smallest things. We're going to explore this a bit tonight.
When I'm passionate about something, I'm passionate. Whether it's about cars, books, whatever, I lose my mind sometimes. When I read a series, I get really drawn in to the point that I feel like I know those characters intimately. So, I get just as excited talking about them and their adventures as I do my own family sometimes. I love cars. Cars are an amazing thing to me. Especially muscle cars. My god, the lines, the curves, the power! Everything about them makes me happy and I could live at a car show.
Some people find this trait of mine...eh...shall we say annoying? That's fine. I don't mind that. Heck, I annoy myself sometimes, so it's only natural I'd annoy others. But you have to understand, when I let that little 'squee' of joy out, maybe hop around in excitement, or just start talking insanely fast, it's because it's something IMPORTANT to me.
I also get this way when I just do not get something. I don't understand sometimes how people can be thick headed or how they can do mean and evil things. Yes, I get JUST as passionate about those things as others.
I cannot describe it myself, and it truly will take seeing it for yourself to fully understand. But, no matter what, remember that it's a part of who I am and something I really can't control about myself.
And a side note, I had NO idea how hard this was going to be...Not only to find the time to write these seven things, but also to come up with them and actually talk about me. I know, right? This girl? Unable to talk about herself? Mrs. Blabbermouth? Yeah, it's much harder than I ever thought it would be to actually write about ONE thing at a time about myself. Feedback is welcome as always.
When I'm passionate about something, I'm passionate. Whether it's about cars, books, whatever, I lose my mind sometimes. When I read a series, I get really drawn in to the point that I feel like I know those characters intimately. So, I get just as excited talking about them and their adventures as I do my own family sometimes. I love cars. Cars are an amazing thing to me. Especially muscle cars. My god, the lines, the curves, the power! Everything about them makes me happy and I could live at a car show.
Some people find this trait of mine...eh...shall we say annoying? That's fine. I don't mind that. Heck, I annoy myself sometimes, so it's only natural I'd annoy others. But you have to understand, when I let that little 'squee' of joy out, maybe hop around in excitement, or just start talking insanely fast, it's because it's something IMPORTANT to me.
I also get this way when I just do not get something. I don't understand sometimes how people can be thick headed or how they can do mean and evil things. Yes, I get JUST as passionate about those things as others.
I cannot describe it myself, and it truly will take seeing it for yourself to fully understand. But, no matter what, remember that it's a part of who I am and something I really can't control about myself.
And a side note, I had NO idea how hard this was going to be...Not only to find the time to write these seven things, but also to come up with them and actually talk about me. I know, right? This girl? Unable to talk about herself? Mrs. Blabbermouth? Yeah, it's much harder than I ever thought it would be to actually write about ONE thing at a time about myself. Feedback is welcome as always.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Bandwagons? Sure! I'll hop right on that!!
A friend of mine also has a blog. Though I don't know this lovely lady nearly as well as I'd like to, I certainly know her well enough to know, she knows a good thing when she sees it. See, she's from my 'neck of the woods' so to speak, and we seem to be on the same tack 90% of the time. She has been (trying) to do 'Seven Things You Probably Don't Know About Me'. I'm going to follow in her footsteps. Or...blogsteps? Either way, you get posts from me.
I'm going to post this first one (even though I 100% said I wouldn't) JUST for my 'wifey'. See, my best best friend and the only female besides my sister that I've ever lived with for more than just a few months, she hates something about me. She can't stand it. This woman would walk out on me if I did it. See, when I read (an actual book, not an e-book), I have a terrible habit. I flip the pages. It's strange, and hard to describe without showing you. I literally cannot read a paper book without doing this in some form. It doesn't matter if it's a magazine, novel, textbook, any type of book will do. If I'm reading, I do this. It's not even a conscious decision. I just do it. I have even tried to not do it. My parents hated it, too. I've sat on my hands to try and keep from doing it, but only end up reading the same few sentences over and over again. I have no idea when or why this started. I think maybe my love of books caused me to start it. I love the different feels of different types of paper. I could sit in a library all day, and simply feel the books. From the way they fit in my hands, to the material their covers are made from, to the type of paper it's pages are made of, I love books. In fact, I love them so much that I can literally get lost in them. I've had people stand 5 feet from me and call my name repeatedly, and the thing is, I'm not ignoring them, I don't hear them. I'm literally thousands of miles, and sometimes hundreds of years away. I cry when I read sad parts. Especially if its part of a series and I've become attached to the characters. I can talk about some characters like they're real people. (This, we'll get more into on another post in the series.) Books are one of my passions, and for reasons unknown to even me, I 'scrape' the pages of them when I read. Fact 1 that you may not have known about me.
Niaka Beth
I'm going to post this first one (even though I 100% said I wouldn't) JUST for my 'wifey'. See, my best best friend and the only female besides my sister that I've ever lived with for more than just a few months, she hates something about me. She can't stand it. This woman would walk out on me if I did it. See, when I read (an actual book, not an e-book), I have a terrible habit. I flip the pages. It's strange, and hard to describe without showing you. I literally cannot read a paper book without doing this in some form. It doesn't matter if it's a magazine, novel, textbook, any type of book will do. If I'm reading, I do this. It's not even a conscious decision. I just do it. I have even tried to not do it. My parents hated it, too. I've sat on my hands to try and keep from doing it, but only end up reading the same few sentences over and over again. I have no idea when or why this started. I think maybe my love of books caused me to start it. I love the different feels of different types of paper. I could sit in a library all day, and simply feel the books. From the way they fit in my hands, to the material their covers are made from, to the type of paper it's pages are made of, I love books. In fact, I love them so much that I can literally get lost in them. I've had people stand 5 feet from me and call my name repeatedly, and the thing is, I'm not ignoring them, I don't hear them. I'm literally thousands of miles, and sometimes hundreds of years away. I cry when I read sad parts. Especially if its part of a series and I've become attached to the characters. I can talk about some characters like they're real people. (This, we'll get more into on another post in the series.) Books are one of my passions, and for reasons unknown to even me, I 'scrape' the pages of them when I read. Fact 1 that you may not have known about me.
Niaka Beth
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Cannery Row
So, as some of you know, I recently went back to work. I'm back in part time retail. Not the most invigorating job in the world. But, I get to work in a very 'historic' place, with all sorts of fun tourist crap. Yes, crap. Mirror mazes, chocolate shops, restaurants, souvenir shops galore, and our little store. I'm not going into detail as to what my store is here. Don't need stalkers.
I've opened the store several mornings, meaning I get there around 9:45 or 10 am. It's really interesting to be on Cannery Row at that time of morning. All of the stores are opening up, and deliveries being made. It's quiet, and cool. It's a very interesting feeling to get to feel that place wake up. I've been there at all times of the day. Midday, walking around, shopping and enjoying the day, night time, enjoying the nightlife offered, and now early morning.
I'm not trying to wax poetic here, but I think that the morning is my favorite. There's just an amazing feeling of 'being a part of it' when you're there, seeing Cannery Row wake up. I can't really describe it. I just think it's amazing.
I've opened the store several mornings, meaning I get there around 9:45 or 10 am. It's really interesting to be on Cannery Row at that time of morning. All of the stores are opening up, and deliveries being made. It's quiet, and cool. It's a very interesting feeling to get to feel that place wake up. I've been there at all times of the day. Midday, walking around, shopping and enjoying the day, night time, enjoying the nightlife offered, and now early morning.
I'm not trying to wax poetic here, but I think that the morning is my favorite. There's just an amazing feeling of 'being a part of it' when you're there, seeing Cannery Row wake up. I can't really describe it. I just think it's amazing.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
My Hero
I promised a while back that I would eventually write about the greatest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. This is a man I plan on naming my son after (if I ever get a son that is). This is a man who was always taking care of everyone else. This was my great grandfather.
I won't talk long (I hope). Some of you have heard a lot of this already. I talk about him a lot. My great grandfather, PawPaw to me, was born in 1926. He served in WWII. He came home and served on the local police force for 31 years. The earliest memories I have of him, are him getting ready for work. At that time, it was mostly him going to sit in the Burger King parking lot. I guess he was watching for speeders and waiting on calls. I remember riding around in his cruiser, going with him to direct traffic when one of the local elementary schools let out.
This man - he went above and beyond the role of grandfather. My mom's sperm donor skipped out on them when they were really young. I don't know the full story there, and I don't think I really need to. I know he left, and for a long time, didn't look back. My PawPaw stepped in and filled that void for them. He took care of them. That's why they call HIM Daddy.
Then I came into the world. I was his first great grandchild. He never stopped giving. He did so much for us as kids. From bringing all our favorite junk food and milk and drinks and anything our hearts desired to the house at least once a week, to taking one of the cars to the square for the Christmas Parade. He'd load that car down with snacks, drinks, and blankets. Then he'd come pick us up, drive back to town, and we'd walk from the car he'd picked us up in, to the car with the amazing view of the parade. Little things like that, to a kid, are huge. I remember when he got too sick to do that for us anymore and it broke my heart. Not because I was missing the parade (though that was part of it), but because Pawpaw wasn't there with us, even when we did get to see it. He didn't get to see me march with the band my senior year of high school.
When I started driving and went off to college, he always asked me (about 20 times in an hour) if I had gas in the car, when the last time the oil had been changed, and if I had air in the tires. Man, did it drive me crazy. Almost as much as when driving by a field of cotton, he'd tsk and say "Man, I wish you'd look at ALL that COTTON." I'd give anything to hear him say it now.
I spent most weekends that my parents let me, at their house. I stayed the night with them, stayed up late, watched t.v. and ate junk food. I'd rather go to their hour than to my friends' houses most of the time. I was spoiled.
He passed two days after my 20th birthday. I had an inkling when my dad called me that morning to ask me to come to his house. I was so selfish and self absorbed at the time, and I didn't want to. I didn't have enough gas to make it to work and back til pay day, unless my roommate came in with great tips during the week, and I couldn't figure out why he wanted me to come down so badly. Then, something in his voice go through to me. I'll never forget that day. I'll never forget hearing him on the phone with my mom telling her he loved her and that he was going to talk to me. I knew what he was going to say when he pulled me into the bear hugs only my dad can give. Knowing didn't make it hurt any less, though. That was almost six years ago. I'll be 26 in a month. Everyone always says time heals. That's not true. It hurts me just as much today, as it did then. I'll never get 'over' his loss. I can deal with it better now. I can't wait to tell my little girl about him. I can't wait until she's old enough to understand what an amazing man he was.
I've been thinking about him more than usual lately. Part of that is the fact that the anniversary is coming up. The other part is the beautiful song Miranda Lambert has out right now "Over You". The story behind the song is that her husband (Blake Shelton) lost his brother at a young age and wrote the song about him. He couldn't record it, but let her. Every time I hear it, I think of him again.
"But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say I'll be okay,But I'm not going to ever get over you." - Over You by Miranda Lambert.
I won't talk long (I hope). Some of you have heard a lot of this already. I talk about him a lot. My great grandfather, PawPaw to me, was born in 1926. He served in WWII. He came home and served on the local police force for 31 years. The earliest memories I have of him, are him getting ready for work. At that time, it was mostly him going to sit in the Burger King parking lot. I guess he was watching for speeders and waiting on calls. I remember riding around in his cruiser, going with him to direct traffic when one of the local elementary schools let out.
This man - he went above and beyond the role of grandfather. My mom's sperm donor skipped out on them when they were really young. I don't know the full story there, and I don't think I really need to. I know he left, and for a long time, didn't look back. My PawPaw stepped in and filled that void for them. He took care of them. That's why they call HIM Daddy.
Then I came into the world. I was his first great grandchild. He never stopped giving. He did so much for us as kids. From bringing all our favorite junk food and milk and drinks and anything our hearts desired to the house at least once a week, to taking one of the cars to the square for the Christmas Parade. He'd load that car down with snacks, drinks, and blankets. Then he'd come pick us up, drive back to town, and we'd walk from the car he'd picked us up in, to the car with the amazing view of the parade. Little things like that, to a kid, are huge. I remember when he got too sick to do that for us anymore and it broke my heart. Not because I was missing the parade (though that was part of it), but because Pawpaw wasn't there with us, even when we did get to see it. He didn't get to see me march with the band my senior year of high school.
When I started driving and went off to college, he always asked me (about 20 times in an hour) if I had gas in the car, when the last time the oil had been changed, and if I had air in the tires. Man, did it drive me crazy. Almost as much as when driving by a field of cotton, he'd tsk and say "Man, I wish you'd look at ALL that COTTON." I'd give anything to hear him say it now.
I spent most weekends that my parents let me, at their house. I stayed the night with them, stayed up late, watched t.v. and ate junk food. I'd rather go to their hour than to my friends' houses most of the time. I was spoiled.
He passed two days after my 20th birthday. I had an inkling when my dad called me that morning to ask me to come to his house. I was so selfish and self absorbed at the time, and I didn't want to. I didn't have enough gas to make it to work and back til pay day, unless my roommate came in with great tips during the week, and I couldn't figure out why he wanted me to come down so badly. Then, something in his voice go through to me. I'll never forget that day. I'll never forget hearing him on the phone with my mom telling her he loved her and that he was going to talk to me. I knew what he was going to say when he pulled me into the bear hugs only my dad can give. Knowing didn't make it hurt any less, though. That was almost six years ago. I'll be 26 in a month. Everyone always says time heals. That's not true. It hurts me just as much today, as it did then. I'll never get 'over' his loss. I can deal with it better now. I can't wait to tell my little girl about him. I can't wait until she's old enough to understand what an amazing man he was.
I've been thinking about him more than usual lately. Part of that is the fact that the anniversary is coming up. The other part is the beautiful song Miranda Lambert has out right now "Over You". The story behind the song is that her husband (Blake Shelton) lost his brother at a young age and wrote the song about him. He couldn't record it, but let her. Every time I hear it, I think of him again.
"But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say I'll be okay,But I'm not going to ever get over you." - Over You by Miranda Lambert.
I guess I rambled a little more than I'd anticipated. If you stuck it out, and read the whole thing, thank you. This was more for me than for you. Sometimes, I just need to read about him. Or write about him. Thanks for being my sounding board guys.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Dreams Do Come True
I'm only going to say a few things about this, then I'm moving on to the real topic. I am SO happy right now!! My husband loves me more than words can say. We were originally waiting to get my new truck until he got his re-enlistment bonus. However, the Jeep (suv) I was driving, had so many issues, and though it was in good shape, could have broken down any moment, and we'd have been out a vehicle. We went to have the oil changed in his car this past weekend and went to look at the trucks in the meantime. We happened to find the perfect truck, they got our payments where they needed to be, and we came home with it. It's a truck I've wanted most of my adult life, and I couldn't be happier about it.
Now, to the real subject. I HATE California drivers. With a passion. I was taught (and recall from when I got my license), that when merging onto the highway/interstate/freeway, you yield to those already ON said highway. Apparently in California, those on the highway already are suppose to yield to those merging. Why do I say this you ask? Well, our FIRST DAY in California, the entire way down to our post, (we came down during high traffic time) each time there was an on ramp, rather than letting one car in, go, one car in, go, those merging tried to squeeze 3-5 cars in front of ONE person. That's not how it works people. It's just NOT. And, it's been that way several other times, during less traffic times too. Yesterday however, driving to the beach with my angel girl and her uncle, I was on the freeway/highway, driving along, minding the speed limit and what not. Well, at one of the entrance ramps, rather than speed up and get in front of me, or slow down and get behind me, some JERK in a Prius (my new truck would eat that for breakfast and still be hungry), stayed right beside me, expecting me to yield to him. When I didn't, he laid on the horn obnoxiously. SO, I did what any gal would do. I flipped him off through the back glass of the truck. He flipped me off back as well, and blew past me as if I were the one in the wrong. What gives folks? Just because your 40-50 years old, doesn't mean that you get to drive any way you want. You still have to obey the rules of the road. And you're not going to be a jerk and lay on your horn at me, when I wasn't in the wrong, SIR. Things like this are why I hate this state. Absolutely NO common sense or common courtesy exist here.
So, lesson of the day? When driving, be sure to obey the rules of the road. Why? Because I won't move for you when I have the right of way. Nope. Not gonna. And if you hit me, because you were so full of self importance and think everyone should yield to you, I'm gonna sue your freaking pants off. And in my truck, your car is gonna be the one with the most damage. Jerk.
Now, to the real subject. I HATE California drivers. With a passion. I was taught (and recall from when I got my license), that when merging onto the highway/interstate/freeway, you yield to those already ON said highway. Apparently in California, those on the highway already are suppose to yield to those merging. Why do I say this you ask? Well, our FIRST DAY in California, the entire way down to our post, (we came down during high traffic time) each time there was an on ramp, rather than letting one car in, go, one car in, go, those merging tried to squeeze 3-5 cars in front of ONE person. That's not how it works people. It's just NOT. And, it's been that way several other times, during less traffic times too. Yesterday however, driving to the beach with my angel girl and her uncle, I was on the freeway/highway, driving along, minding the speed limit and what not. Well, at one of the entrance ramps, rather than speed up and get in front of me, or slow down and get behind me, some JERK in a Prius (my new truck would eat that for breakfast and still be hungry), stayed right beside me, expecting me to yield to him. When I didn't, he laid on the horn obnoxiously. SO, I did what any gal would do. I flipped him off through the back glass of the truck. He flipped me off back as well, and blew past me as if I were the one in the wrong. What gives folks? Just because your 40-50 years old, doesn't mean that you get to drive any way you want. You still have to obey the rules of the road. And you're not going to be a jerk and lay on your horn at me, when I wasn't in the wrong, SIR. Things like this are why I hate this state. Absolutely NO common sense or common courtesy exist here.
So, lesson of the day? When driving, be sure to obey the rules of the road. Why? Because I won't move for you when I have the right of way. Nope. Not gonna. And if you hit me, because you were so full of self importance and think everyone should yield to you, I'm gonna sue your freaking pants off. And in my truck, your car is gonna be the one with the most damage. Jerk.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Beating the Odds
Okay, something everyone may not know about me. I'm a sucker for people who beat the odds. I'm a huuuuuuuge softie. I'll tell you why. I've had a few family members who were given some very bad news.
I'll start with my Uncle. While I don't have very many remembrances of him, I can't recall a time I ever saw him without a smile on his face. He was diagnosed with leukemia and mental retardation at a young age. He never really had a mental capacity past that of a three year old. He passed away when I was 5. He was 13. It was the first funeral I can remember going to.
I also had a cousin, who I wasn't close to, and didn't see often, but he too, was always a happy person. Brian had cerebral palsy. He passed when he was 18. This is again, someone I cannot recall ever seeing without a smile on his face.
Now - why am I telling you all this? I'll explain. I've met a wonderful young lady out here in California. Her name is Alecia. I'm simply going to copy and paste her story for you.
I'll start with my Uncle. While I don't have very many remembrances of him, I can't recall a time I ever saw him without a smile on his face. He was diagnosed with leukemia and mental retardation at a young age. He never really had a mental capacity past that of a three year old. He passed away when I was 5. He was 13. It was the first funeral I can remember going to.
I also had a cousin, who I wasn't close to, and didn't see often, but he too, was always a happy person. Brian had cerebral palsy. He passed when he was 18. This is again, someone I cannot recall ever seeing without a smile on his face.
Now - why am I telling you all this? I'll explain. I've met a wonderful young lady out here in California. Her name is Alecia. I'm simply going to copy and paste her story for you.
Alecia was born with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Also known as SMA. Her parents were told her diagnosis when she was 13 months. Alecia's mother began noticing signs when she was unable to lift her head or showing signs of normal physical child development. At the time that they were given her diagnosis, they were also given the devastating news that Alecia's life expectancy would most likely not surpass 3 years of age. At that time they also said that she would carry no expression like smile or laugh. Her parents refused to agree with this so they resorted to their faith in God. So needless to say here she at the age of 25 married and living life maintaining the SMILES and LAUGHTER that each day brings.
SMA is a genetic disease characterized by progressive degeneration of motor neurons in the spinal cord. The disorder causes weakness and wasting of the voluntary muscles. This weakness is also more severe in the legs than in the arms. In addition, it causes severe scoliosis of the spine. Which is seen in Alecia's case.
At the age of 19 Alecia was blessed to meet and fall in Love with her husband. In her words "Ive never thought marriage would be a part of my life. Having this disease makes life a little more challenging than the normal, but having a companion / life partner / husband / friend wiling to face those challenges with me opened my eyes to see that there is more to life than my disease has promised I cant have :)".
Alecia's husband being a Marine in the United States Military means they travel A LOT and flying is almost not an option. Currently they use a 2 door hatchback where Alecia's husband manually lifts her chair and puts it in the trunk, mind you the wheelchair is 5x her weight. Alecia lays down in the front seat which makes it impossible to see anywhere they are driving. Also making it at times very uncomfortable.
Now, I can tell you a few things I know about Alecia. She has one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen, she's so loving, and kind. And, she's beaten the odds already. I'm telling you this, because I have a favor to ask. Alecia and her husband are trying desperately to get a handicap van. They've started fundraising and entered contests. I want to get the word out and help this BEAUTIFUL person get everything she deserves. If you can help in anyway, you can always contact me directly (miasmommy1209@gmail.com), you can vote for her in the contest I'll post in a moment, and you can always pray.
Help this lady get what she deserves, and vote for her!! Please?
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