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Monday, May 30, 2005


First and foremost, THANK YOU for all of the well wishes, prayers, and sympathy you have expressed. You all are wonderful!

Sorry for the delayed update. On top of the finals last week, I managed to put in almost 60 hours at work. Most of yesterday (my first day off) was spent sleeping and spending much needed time with my husband and daughters. I was going to update then, but all I managed to do was browse a few other blogs, then go back to bed.

I survived finals and ended up with a B in all three classes. I'm sure I could have done better, but with everything I have going on, I don't have time to be an overacheiver.

Due to finals, I was unable to attend my friends funeral. Unfortunately, only funerals for immediate family members are excused at my school. In light of the circumstances, the family chose to only do a graveside services. I continue to pray for them, as that is all I can do.

My great-grandmother is now in a coma. She was not taken home as planned. Instead, she is still at the hospital since the doctors feel they can ensure that she is pain free while she is there. Her vital signs remain absolutely normal. My mother thinks she is fighting. I think she's waiting for something. I will be leaving tomorrow to go and see her for the last time.

As strange as this sounds, I am looking forward to her passing. This is what she wants. She has completed her journey here and she is ready to move on. Unlike my friend, I think my grandmother's death will be a beautiful event...painless and surrounded by those that love her. I can only hope that I leave this earth the same way.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Bad Day

I have exactly 7 hours and 10 minutes before my first final at 9:00 a.m. The problem is that what I have left to study should take about 9 more hours. My concentration has been lacking today.

This has not been a good day. A friend of mine from my hometown shot himself sometime Saturday night. His wife found him in their bedroom.

I just can't imagine what his wife, parents, and sister are going through right now. His younger brother (who was a very close friend of my own brother)was killed in a car accident about a year ago. That hit the family hard enough. If any of you are at all religious, please pray for this family. I know they can use them right now.

I also found out today that my great-grandmother is being released from the hospital, where she has been for the last 5 days so that she can go home to die. This is a far cry from my friends death, but a little sad nonetheless. I take great comfort in knowing that she has lived this long (almost 97 years!) and was in excellent health up until about a week ago. She says she is ready to go and be with my great-grandfather. She is completely helpless, but not in any pain. Remarkably, her memory is still excellent. After finals, I will be going to Indiana to hopefully see her one last time before she passes.

Friday, May 20, 2005

transitive verb: upset; thrown into a state of confusion

After arriving home from picking the girls up from daycare, Ed told me to ask Anna what word he was saying that was making her mad.

Me: What was Daddy saying to make you mad?
Anna: I don't know that word, but don't say it.
Me: What are you talking about?
Anna: I can't say it so tell Daddy to quit saying it!

Totally confused, I asked Ed what in the world we were discussing. He said that he was having a conversation with Anna on the way home, and a word he used made her mad.

Are you ready for this? The word was discombobulate.

Me: You're mad at Daddy for saying discombobulate?
Anna: Don't say that!
Me: Why?
Anna: Because I don't like that word! I don't know what it means! Stop saying that!

Ed (about to piss himself because he's trying to keep a straight face): C'mon now Anna, don't get all discombobulated on us.
More yelling from Anna ensues.

At this point, I am pondering whether to stick around to see what would happen next, or if I should grab Cassie and run away until the crack Anna and Ed had obviously been smoking wore off.

After things settled down and tranquility had been restored, I looked at Ed and said, "At what point during the 2 minute drive home from daycare did you feel it necessary to insert the word dicombobulate into your conversation with a 4 year old child?"

He couldn't remember, which is fine with me, because I'm pretty confident that I'm better off not knowing anyway.
A very discombobulated Anna

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Mental Overload

I had a Medical/Surgical exam Monday, a national comprehensive exam on Tuesday that had to be passed to move on to the senior level, and Pathophysiology test today.

I did well on all three, but do I get to breathe a sigh of relief? Nope... I have 3 finals next week. Pray for me. Then take a few shots for me since I better stay sober until next Wednesday.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Make Me Over

I'll admit it. I'm a sucker for any TV show involving any type of makeover. I don't care if it's someone's home, body, or wardrobe. I am completely addicted to What Not to Wear, anything on HGTV, and Dr. 90210.

I still haven't figured out why I like this one. Dr. Rey has to be one of the most annoying, pretentious people ever. Anyone who can say, "Her vaginal lift turned out absolutely adorable," with a straight face should be drop-kicked into a vat of the fat he liposuctions all day. I can't stand the way he walks into a room during a post-op visit and gushes over the results of his handywork.

I realize that it would be a tad dangerous to walk in and tell someone who has just gotten a nose job, "Hmmm, I've done better." However, if my TEENAGE daughter had just gotten a breast reduction, and the Dr. walked in and told her (as he stares at her bare breasts), that her new boobs are smokin' hot and sexy, I would have to cut his nuts off and feed them to him for lunch. Just yesterday, I watched an episode in which he told a girl, who was still groggy from anesthesia, "Ooh, you're so sexy, even when you're high!" I'd would've loved to have seen her father's reaction as he sat and watched that episode.

Dr. Rey may be a perv, but the truth is, he kicks ass at what he does. I'd totally let him work on me. Let's face it, after 2 pregnancies and breastfeeding, my boobs and my stomach just aren't located where they were when I was 20. Besides, if the guy can put breast implants in through a person's belly button, I think I could trust him to just lift the gals a tad...maybe tuck a bit of tummy while he's at it.

Monday, May 16, 2005


I hope that the bitch-ass, piece of shit, loser fucktards that created the numerous viruses that infected my computer causing me to have to waste countless hours removing them, rot in the deepest, hottest pits of hell. That is all.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Diva Quote

Anna: Mommy, what number are you?
Me: Do you mean how old am I?
Anna: Yes, what number are you?
Me: 29
Anna: So you will be 30 on your birthday?
Me: That's right.
Anna: And after that you will be 31, then 32 (proceeds to count to 39). Is that right?
Me: Yes you are! Very good!
Anna: (Says softly to herself) Hmmmm, I'm a lot smarter than I thought.

What's in a Name?

If one more person asks me, "Who named you Maria?" in a tone that implies that I have infringed on some Hispanic copyright law that protects this name from evil white name-stealers, I am going to throw down.

Ever since I started working at the hospital, I have had more people than I can even begin to count ask me why a white chick would have a name like Maria. Haven't these people seen The Sound of fucking Music? Does Julie Andrews look Mexican to anybody?

I honestly don't mind when people are just curious and they ask me how I got my name. It's just that I can do without the giggles, looks, and flat out rudeness of people who will flat out say, "But you aren't Mexican!" I have actually had that said to my face, on several occasions.

OK, here's the scoop:
My grandmother's middle name is Marie and my folks wanted to name me after her. They felt that Marie was a little plain for a first name, so they went with Maria instead. They like it, I like it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Interestingly enough, when I looked in my baby name book, I found that my name means "bitter." Hmmmmm.......

Monday, May 09, 2005


I hope all of you mom's out there had a wonderful weekend. I know I did! On Saturday, we took my stepmother out to lunch and then headed to the park with the girls (got pics of that of course). On Sunday, I woke up to breakfast in bed served on these, which were my Mother's Day gift from the girls. I absolutely love them because they are so different from any dishes we've ever owned before.

After lounging around the house doing absolutely nothing (which was heaven), we ate dinner with some friends, then came home and watched a movie. The girls got along, and I got some sleep. I couldn't have asked for a better weekend.

Just a swangin' Posted by Hello

Swinging Diva Posted by Hello

My husband was a monkey in another life Posted by Hello

Trying to convince the diva that leaving the park isn't the end of the world Posted by Hello

Worn out kids = peaceful ride home Posted by Hello

Saturday, May 07, 2005

I Get the Feeling She's Going to Be a Hooter's Girl

Of course it would be my child that convinces the rest of her soccer team to pull their shirts up over their heads and run around the field, bare-chested, while yelling, "Look at my boobies!"

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Turdy Poem

Sorry people...couldn't resist ;-)

I have been seeing the turd poetry popping up on blogs this week and had to take a crack at it. Here's mine:

Turd in a punch bowl
Makin' it stink all up in this hizzle
Turd in a punch bowl
I wish someone would dump that shit out, fo' shizzle

Here are the rules for Turd Poetry:
1. Write a four line poem with the 1st and 3rd lines being "turd in a punch bowl"
2. Make lines 2 and 4 rhyme, using any topic
3. Tag three other bloggers and force them to post a turdy poem on their own turdy blog.

I tag Carrie, Stephanie, and Suzie since you are the only ones who actually read my new blog ;-)

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

My babies Posted by Hello

R & R

As I was in the shower at about 5:45 this morning, I said to myself, "Screw it. I'm playing hooky today." I had a really shitty day yesterday and my 2 1/2 year old child has decided to act more like a 2 MONTH old and has been waking up 3-4 times nightly. Add this to the already limited amount of sleep I've been getting, and you get a bleary-eyed, grouchy bitch who can't think straight.

I called the school and let them know I would not be at my clinical site, and then called work and told them I was dead, but I would be rising again in time to work tomorrow night.

I'm calling this a mental health day.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

Looking back

I hate to admit it, but the party was fun. Apparently, Anna was mistaken and she was the only kid from the class that was invited as opposed to the entire class getting an invite like she told me.

This almost makes me want to walk into that preschool class tomorrow morning and yell, "Ha ha suckas! My kid got invited to C's birthday party and you didn't!" Somehow think that wouldn't be very appropriate coming from a grown woman, so I'll just keep my mouth shut and gloat to myself. Actually, it turns out that C and Anna play together quite a bit at school, so they wanted to include her. How nice is that I ask you?

Anna had a blast, but I think that I had more fun watching her have such a good time with her little friend. It made me think of all of the "best-friends" that I had as a small child.

I still fondly remember playdates consisting of playing Strawberry Shortcake, playing house, and dancing to Disco Duck spinning on a Holly Hobby record player. The Neverending Story was the coolest movie of all time, and the best cakes in the world were made in a Make-n-Bake oven. We raced our bikes (banana seats and all) around the block with our dolls in wicker baskets attached to the handle bars, and the best climbing tree on the block was right in my front yard.

Back then, it was just play...but now, I realize that those were the best days of my childhood. It was a time when I floated through life without a care in the world. Sometimes I really miss that feeling.

What exactly is all the fuss about?

Today we are going to a birthday party at Mr. Gatti's for a girl that I don't know if I've ever even seen. Anna, along with the rest of her preschool class, got an invitation for said party on Wednesday, (who the hell sends out invites 4 days before a party???) Of course, I am expected to give up my Sunday afternoon to go hunt for a stupid gift that will get played with for a total of five minutes, and lug the family to hang with a bunch of people we don't know. I said family because if I have to go, than Ed is going to pry his ass off the couch and be driven nuts too. I'm sure the kid is really great and all, but jeez....

Childrens birthday parties have become insane. Remember the days when our parents would decorate one room in the house, bake a cake themselves, and you got to have a group of your closest friends, and a few relatives? C'mon you remember...a few balloons, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, Happy Birthday to You, cake and ice cream. Everyone was happy, and most importantly, everyone really knew the damn kid who was having the party in the first place.

Nope...not happenin' these days. Now we are spending HUNDREDS of dollars to throw the birthday party that is equal to or better than the last one. I swore up and down that I wasn't going to be the type of mother that was all about keeping up with the Jones', and for the most part, I'm not. However, when it comes to throwing a birthday party for the girls, I just can't help going overboard. How can I throw a rinky-dink party when little Jane had a bash at Chuck E. Cheese complete with Chuck himself hanging out with the kids, dancing and playing? Hell, each of the goody bags alone were probably worth more than what was spent on the professionally made cake.

So, last year, we had the party at a gymnastics academy, where the kids got to play games, jump on trampolines, hurl themselves from swinging ropes into a pit of foam cubes, and basically run around like the little lunatics they are. The theme of the party was Strawberry Shortcake, and we spent a fortune on the coordinating deocorations, goody bags, and cake (professionally done, of course....can't let little Jane have the upper hand you know).

The one thing going for me at this point is the fact that I can still get away with combining the girls' birthdays since they are only nine days apart. This year, every fiber of my being is screaming at me to keep their party simple. Just have one at home and let them invite a couple of friends. Yup, that's what I'll do. Save time, save money, save what little of my sanity is left.

Oh screw it, I'll be making a reservation at Art and Doodles where I'll spend more than we have on the perfect cake, perfect decorations and perfect party complete with the take home piece of art that the kids will create. Did I mention that the girls' birthdays are still 5 months away?

Keep it simple my ass.