tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57242989765528866532024-03-04T21:24:08.851-08:00Head In The CloudsNicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.comBlogger130125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-3048169166777660462012-05-02T08:14:00.000-07:002012-05-02T08:14:01.140-07:00I would like to start over with a new blog- but that would be a pain in the ass and I'm just too lazy/busy these days. I'll just start over here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhbXLM3Ry8W2J3TQudXgruGy_VmrenMuyRD-kz-MIzsawhM9O2RNjk5nz_v9xbnSzDR6eHW0yh9CC4qaPUk70q68WDQ96t-gZ6xjLowbG53jr1adwK-aJ0FwAsAVYy84s7nWp2gblFc8/s1600/3tonbun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhbXLM3Ry8W2J3TQudXgruGy_VmrenMuyRD-kz-MIzsawhM9O2RNjk5nz_v9xbnSzDR6eHW0yh9CC4qaPUk70q68WDQ96t-gZ6xjLowbG53jr1adwK-aJ0FwAsAVYy84s7nWp2gblFc8/s320/3tonbun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My boyfriend, Trav, made this last weekend. It's our rabbit Houdini. He weighs ten pounds and hates people. </div>
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<br /></div>Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-75928677866181071152011-11-25T02:14:00.000-08:002011-11-25T02:14:24.952-08:00The HolidaysAren't they so much fun? Spending money, rushing to get things done, seeing family you are glad you only see once a year, cooking way more than you'd like; really, they are a joy.<br />
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Actually, I enjoy them for the most part. I love Christmas decorations, I love Christmas movies, I love snow- for about five minutes, until I'm cold or have to drive in it. This will be my second Christmas back in Michigan, and also with Trav. This year, however, will be the first Christmas we're both expected to participate in each other's families Christmas get togethers. This is proving to be a problem for both of us. <br />
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You see, I took on a third shift job at a hotel this summer. It was supposed to be a two night a week gig, and therefore, no real problem for us. Well, unfortunately fate took a turn for the full-time night auditor, and she left me with a full-time job that is costing me a lot, even though the big paychecks have been nice. For one, I lost my insurance. I make too much now, but since I'm not considered a full-time employee (I'm considered temporary for the company) I can't get insurance through work. I like how companies can do that, don't you? So the state took away my benefits, and didn't offer me any options to pay, like they claim they have available. My health is suffering considerably because of this. <br />
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Second, I never get to spend time with my boyfriend. We live together, so you would think it wouldn't be THAT HARD to get time together. Oh no. You see, boyfriend plays in a band, and has his son two nights a week now. He also works at 7 AM, which is when I get OFF work, and we share a vehicle. He takes me to work at night- a pain for him since I start at 11 PM and he has to get up at 5:30 AM- and then I take the bus home in the morning. I try to get to sleep as soon as I can, which is around 10 AM most times, since I have to wind down and do stuff around the house, so I end up sleeping until he gets home. It seems like that would give us time together. Not so much. He has band practice, so one night a week he leaves as soon as he gets home, doesn't get home until 10. On Tuesdays his son stays the night- I have to request this as one of my nights off, since I don't have a ride in. No alone time. Also, his son takes over the house- literally- and gets to choose what movie we have on, has all of his toys spread out, ten art projects going on, and demands the attention of my boyfriend every time we start a conversation. There goes one of my nights off. The other nights we have together, he passes out by 7 (to get a nap in before he takes me to work), and I have to tip toe around him. My other random night off is either A) a week night such as this, where he passes out early and I'm left up by myself, or B) a night he plays a show. You can imagine how much "quality time" we get together on those nights: Zip.<br />
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The holidays are here. We already had to miss Thanksgiving. Technically, he could have gone to his family's, but he didn't want to leave me at home alone. I had to work, you see, so I slept til two in the afternoon. Dinner was at one. I kept telling him to go, but he wouldn't. Thanksgiving isn't a huge deal for me, but I know his mother makes a big event out of all holidays. Love the woman to death, but she smothers us sometimes. <br />
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We had lasagna hamburger helper for dinner, made spiked egg nog, and watched football.<br />
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I'm dreading Christmas. I keep telling my boss that I don't mind working, but I can't keep working this full-time position without benefits for a prolonged period. He is very laidback, and it's nice in some ways, but in this situation, it's hindering EVERYONE at work. Day shifters are being forced to cover my nights, and that is hard on them. I have to request any Saturdays my boyfriend plays off, so of course they hold it against me that I get a lot of Saturdays off (which was a part of the deal to begin with, since my boss was aware of my ride situation and why I took the Sunday/Monday night shifts). The full-time auditor has been off work for over a month because of a medical situation and is getting medical leave pay, so she hasn't said when she'll be back, but she won't be coming back to work. I know this because she friended me on Facebook, and she's blatantly stated she will miss her job, but her problems (cancerous growths all over her liver) will take months and months to shrink and there's no telling how she will feel during treatment. My boss needs to take action and lay her off, find another night auditor, and fix our scheduling problems. He won't, though- he doesn't like confrontation.<br />
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Therefore, this holiday is going to be a wreck. I have about ten Christmases to attend and ZERO time. I am only allowed Christmas Eve or Christmas Day off. Both of our families have things going on both days. He has to take his son to his parents, but I'd like to see my family. It's very confusing and crazy, and I am almost sorry I even have a job. I know- ungrateful. There are so many people that would love a full-time job and here I am, complaining; but it's making me unhappy, and it's making my boyfriend unhappy, and I'm not sure I'm willing to sacrifice both of our happiness to keep a job. After Christmas, I'm asking to have three days off a week. I know it's inconvenient to the rest of my coworkers, but they're getting paid way more and get benefits. I don't. I wasn't even given holiday pay for Labor Day or Thanksgiving, and wasn't asked if I wanted them off. I'm the new girl so I haven't complained much. I expected some bull crap. This is just a bit much.<br />
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I just want this season to be over.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-4822294829974481132011-08-23T09:48:00.000-07:002011-08-23T09:48:11.613-07:00Random NessI've got several subjects to cover while I'm here, including unprofessional business owners, child support, and spoiled rabbits. I haven't been able to really blog since last summer, due to the lack of a computer (my screen has been broken for about a year), lack of employment (I was fired last Tuesday- you'll hear that story in a minute), and general lack of the appropriate means to do so.<br />
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I started working at a hotel in July, under the assumption that I would be moved to front desk from laundry, as I was told when they hired me. They had recently opened another hotel across the street, and were lacking employees in housekeeping and needed help in laundry. I figured it was short-term, so I agreed to do it. I probably shouldn't have. Have you ever tried getting two weeks of laundry done in a day with just one washer and dryer? It's tough. Now, try getting two weeks of TWO HOTEL'S laundry (80+ rooms, 8 towels, 2 sheet sets and 8 pillow cases per room). This is what I was up against. I was thrown into it, never having done this much laundry in my life, and I was expected to keep up with it. I had two washers and two dryers at my disposal. For one load, it took about an hour and a half. It was impossible. However, the head of housekeeping told me, "Just do what you can, they can't complain if you're doing what you can." So I did. I worked my ass off. I was getting overtime and STILL not getting it all done. Because, you see, hotels have constant laundry coming in. The only way it'll get done is if you either stop having guests, or you have someone working on it 24/7. Which wasn't going to happen. <br />
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The owners were on site most of the time. I wasn't a fan. The main owner (I'll call her B), in her early 40's and pretending to be late 20's, is stuck up. From what I gather, she is a trust fund baby, and Daddy left her several million dollars. She now thinks she's Queen of Everything and above everyone. She would come in the laundry room and immediately start complaining. No hi, hello, good morning. Just, "Why isn't this done? What is all this stained stuff? Why aren't you working longer hours?" She didn't like when anyone got overtime, though. At one point I had 6 hours overtime and she told the general manager (read: Owner's Little Bitch, OLB) that I can't get over 5 per week. Yet, she expected me to work longer hours? I was working 9 hour days, no lunch break, and only ten minutes to sit down. But apparently it wasn't good enough.<br />
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The other part-owner is her boyfriend, T. He's not rich. He is a sub-contractor in construction (read: Construction Bitch). He was put in charge of employees because she has no personal skills whatsoever. Neither does he. It became very obvious that he is a fan of 18 year old girls that wear short shorts, low cut tops, and flirt with him. I'm not that girl. In fact, I'm a woman. I was completely professional. When he asked me, on several occasions, if I wanted to get lunch, I turned him down and said I brought my lunch. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, so I went onto his shit list.<br />
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Now, onto how I got fired. I had requested a Sunday off when I first started, because it was my younger brother's graduation open house, and also my family reunion. I was told, "No problem." Three days before this day, B tells the head of housekeeping I can't have it off because B will not be there to cover for me. As far as I knew, she didn't cover me at anytime. When I went to discuss this (since I was told I could have it off when I started), she happened to be standing there with OLB. I told him I'd like to talk about why I can't have the day off, and immediately she started whining. WHINING. Like a 16 year old. "I'm not going to be here to cover you, Nicolette." I hated the way she said my name. I said, "I understand that, but head of housekeeping told me when I first started that you gave the OK for me to have that day off, and it's been planned out since spring." She put her nose in the hair, shook her hair, and said, "I've had my trip to Colorado planned since last September." Like she was competing with me. She stalked away. OLB told me that he'd work it out so I'd have it off. I got it off. Two days later I was fired. In just TWO days, I got most of the laundry done, and actually took a break since there was nothing to do. First, T came in, stuck his finger in my face, and said, "You're here to work, not fucking sit on your ass. If you want to do that I'll throw you out." No joke. Five minutes later, B (for Bitch) comes in and asks why there's stained stuff and I told her I planned on working on it that day. She started ranting, so I held up my hand and said, "Honestly B, I'm one person doing two hotels' laundry with two washers and two dryers. I'm doing the best I can." I said it in a completely respectful tone. She nodded, and said, "Okay, I understand." I thought, FINALLY! Nope...she turned around, pointed her finger in my face (boy was I tired of this), and said, "But if you yell at me again, I'll fire you."<br />
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I'd had enough. I hadn't yelled. I grabbed my things and went into the bathroom to cool down. I was so mad. I could have yelled. I could have said, FUCK YOU. But I restrained myself and decided to leave for the day. I told OLB that I needed the day off to cool down, and it wasn't worth 8 dollars an hour to be treated like that. He said okay. They then fired me. Technically, I quit before they fired me, but they wanted the last word. Oh well. Now I'm on the job hunt again. Stressed, yes. However, it's better than being treated like dog shit.<br />
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That was a really long rant, I apologize. I'll try to keep the next one short and to the point.<br />
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Does anyone on here know anything about child support and how it works? Because I'm lost. I've been with my boyfriend for over ten months now, and we've been living with each other for almost 6 of those months (I know, crazy-fast move). His stress is now becoming mine, since we live together. All of the bills are the same with me there, minus my shampoo and tampons. He doesn't pay anything extra (I even signed up for food stamps- yes, I'm that poor), yet he's broke. Then I learned why- he's always been broke because half of his paychecks go to taxes, and child support.<br />
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He doesn't make that much. It's more than a lot, but it's not much. It would be enough to cover rent, bills, his car payment, insurance, and necessities around his house for him and his son. However, for some reason, although she only makes two dollars less an hour than he does, he has to pay her $600 a month. I'm not sure how this is calculated, but after doing my math, if they are doing their calculations right for his monthly expenses, this is WAY OFF. He won't argue with it, though. He's afraid they'll take more.<br />
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Come to find out, this is the amount she wanted, and instead of fighting it, he agreed so he wouldn't have to argue with her. Well, I'm not going to let him roll over and die because she's a selfish bitch. I hate to talk bad about mothers, but I've had enough of her. At first I tried to just stay out of it, but in the last couple of months, she's been awful. They have a custody agreement that makes NO sense: she has full custody, and he gets to see the kid for several hours on Tuesdays and has him overnight for ONE night on the weekend. That's it. I asked what was up with that. He said, "She's controlling and couldn't handle being away from him for more than one night at a time." Where is this his problem?<br />
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It occurred to me that this woman has problems. Their son is turning 8 in less than a month. As of January of this year, he was still sleeping in the same bed with his mom, even though he had his own room and bed. When I first started staying the night with my boyfriend, I could only stay when his son wasn't there. Why? Because his son would get out of bed and sleep with him. I can see a 5 year old doing this occasionally. But a 7 year old? <br />
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While I wasn't there, my boyfriend asked his son if it would be okay if I stayed the night. His son said that's okay. He likes me, so it worked out. However, when it came to be the night of, he asked his dad, "So, Nicolette is sleeping on the couch, and I'm sleeping in your bed, right?" I didn't know what to say. My boyfriend handled it well, though. "No, you're sleeping in YOUR bed tonight."<br />
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What happened: At midnight, I'm woken up by his son crawling into his bed, which is only full-size, and I'm shoved to the edge by him. My boyfriend woke up and took him back to his bedroom, where he cried because "Mom always let's me sleep in her bed."<br />
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Yes. Your mom may let you do that, but this is NOT your mom's house. This kid is obviously babied by his mother to the point where he doesn't like coming to his dad's house because his dad can't buy him everything he asks for. He has his own TV, a Wii, PS2, Nintendo DS, and a hundred games and movies at his mom's house. They have cable, with all the movie channels, a flat screen television, and they go out to dinner. My boyfriend has explained that he doesn't have the money to buy that kind of stuff. His son whined and said, "Why don't you ever have money, Dad?" My boyfriend almost lost it. He told him, "Because I pay your mom a lot of money to take care of you, so you can have nice things over there." Way to put it...a 7 year old won't understand that.<br />
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My problem with all of this is only: Why doesn't he have his son more often? He lives close to his daycare and his school. There's no reason he can't have him overnight more often, except that he doesn't want to fight with the ex wife. I only started bringing this up to him when she started "forgetting" to bring his son over, or wouldn't call to tell him what time to pick him up, and took away his ONE night a week with him. I've had it up to my forehead.<br />
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The kid drives me nuts, but only because he's so absolutely spoiled by his mother that he thinks no one loves him unless they buy him stuff. He actually said that. "If you loved me Dad, you would buy me more stuff." His other favorite thing to say to his dad: "Dad, I love you more than you love me."<br />
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I basically told him, "Stop bitching about all your bills and how broke you are and how you can't do anything with your son if you're not going to do anything about it." I convinced him to agree to write a letter to the Friend of the Court (that's who deals with custody here in Michigan) to have his custody agreement reviewed. In my opinion, there's no reason my boyfriend can't have him half the time. We are always home, I can babysit during the days if I'm not working, and it's perfectly manageable. Boyfriend keeps saying he's going to write the letter, but hasn't yet. It's been a few months. It's getting worse by the week. His ex was supposed to pick up their son this past Saturday by 6 PM and didn't show up until a quarter to 9 because she was getting her hair done- apparently she spent $250 on this cut. She then texted him and asked if he'd just meet her outside with all of his things. She didn't want to get out of the car. She asked if it was okay if my boyfriend took him Wednesday night instead of Tuesday because their son has a dentist appointment at 4 and it would take a while. THEN, yesterday, she asks if he can watch his son for a while Tuesday night while she gets her hair fixed. It's disorganized and insensible. If she has something planned, she will bitch and throw a fit with my boyfriend if it's his day to have their son and she wants him. But if my boyfriend has something planned, she doesn't give two shits and will screw him over. <br />
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Anyway, I think it would be best if he just got his son for a week at a time, every other week, so he could spend more time with his son, and maybe start to fix his bad habits a little. I think half the problem is his son doesn't spend enough time at his father's house, so he doesn't feel like it's his home, and that's not right. When you know you're leaving with your mom in a few hours, you never get settled in. If he knew he'd be there for a week, maybe he'd chill out a little. Plus, my boyfriend wouldn't pay so much in child support, so maybe we could actually take him to do things once in a while. <br />
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End of that rant. Last thing- I now have three house rabbits running around. They're spoiled. We have a baby rabbit that is ridiculous. She'll eat anything we do. No joke. Chili dogs, pizza, nachos, beer, oatmeal, you name it. It's gotten to the point that we cannot eat anywhere in the living room because she will run and jump onto your plate- like she did my steak two weeks ago. She's hard to refuse, though.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdT5wNoPY-u9EGNUz20basQukjsyDOA6JIxmj7i7bR24stQ0Qz4vHvWVKvbsRSmxtLYr491EW-YVjXwHwFJTbARunmQqiCMV_0UsmmZUt_uxhRpM_cxFIuh_942Djd_33b_KBJ-4s2Pc/s1600/Picture+117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdT5wNoPY-u9EGNUz20basQukjsyDOA6JIxmj7i7bR24stQ0Qz4vHvWVKvbsRSmxtLYr491EW-YVjXwHwFJTbARunmQqiCMV_0UsmmZUt_uxhRpM_cxFIuh_942Djd_33b_KBJ-4s2Pc/s320/Picture+117.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>There's my little bundle of joy. Baby Fat Pants, we call her. Now you see why we can't say no.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-41398011735530899092011-03-09T12:51:00.001-08:002011-03-09T12:51:18.990-08:00Our New Additions<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiP4QyZHdR_ANMPo8rByTBF_ZKPC86uUYdsXZhGgwzAaHTfR9rICI-AiW5FzUg8E9aNqBWFKCY_U8n4ImbnVrz5VkBMps7ANNHrFuwVLQtEiamd2HISWivwEzLsWHJO1RAbaYuJ-knd8/s1600/20110306185600-778992.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiP4QyZHdR_ANMPo8rByTBF_ZKPC86uUYdsXZhGgwzAaHTfR9rICI-AiW5FzUg8E9aNqBWFKCY_U8n4ImbnVrz5VkBMps7ANNHrFuwVLQtEiamd2HISWivwEzLsWHJO1RAbaYuJ-knd8/s320/20110306185600-778992.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582185660899900642" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> Travis and I decided to go look at bunnies last week. I didn't ask if we could get any, but apparently he decided I didn't need to. As a few of you may remember, I had two bunnies when I lived in Phoenix- Cooper and Beauty. Unfortunately, my deadbeat ex decided to give them back to Humane Society instead of shipping them to me here after I asked him to. I was reassured by a friend that they were brought there, so they are safe. I miss them so much. No one can replace them. But these new bundles of joy are just as cute, and full of personality. I adopted them as a pair. A lady in my area took in the adult female because she was treated poorly, and she ended up having 4 babies. So I took her and a female baby to give a good home to. So far they've been great, and seem happy. If you ever want a quiet animal companion, I suggest adopting a bunny. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-48252257287689944682011-02-17T08:34:00.001-08:002011-02-17T08:34:07.871-08:00The Stepson<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUxJPOIN9rpCwfjFK9wTdNyIVVIM-W1lm4B_X2IvqHYwLZ-RuWr1ulFt-1GeHEMZcGG0_Si4xdZ-BrE0MPHU9i_fDJU7e__fYoyACb847hsxKIIOI9v9O9jJDyrHTtpKCfL1AxE32-IA/s1600/Photo-0187-747872.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUxJPOIN9rpCwfjFK9wTdNyIVVIM-W1lm4B_X2IvqHYwLZ-RuWr1ulFt-1GeHEMZcGG0_Si4xdZ-BrE0MPHU9i_fDJU7e__fYoyACb847hsxKIIOI9v9O9jJDyrHTtpKCfL1AxE32-IA/s320/Photo-0187-747872.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574697677673438562" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> I've finally been placed in a situation I'm not comfortable with and can't exactly get out of- my boyfriend has a 7 year old son. He seems to really like me and listens to me and is polite to me. The only problem is, I think he's spoiled and baby'ed. He lives with his mom, whom has let him sleep in her bed up until the last couple months, and he's got more toys than any kid I know. The main situation is, he is so used to being spoiled by his mom and her parents he gets bored when he's with us and wants to leave. My boyfriend has no extra money after child support is paid, so he can't do anything outside the house with his own son. In the end, we're left to entertain him and fail because it's just not enough. We obviously can't control what happens outside our home, so how do we get him to like coming over? Because of this, I almost dread him coming over and feel like a bad person. I finally know what both my step parents felt like with me and my brother. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-39123499334956852912011-02-16T19:47:00.001-08:002011-02-16T19:47:40.283-08:00When Curiosity Kills The Cat<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7z7f6oGSCqZdaNhFNIVJDi7YKwLAZJwmn4Cqv_7Z5dkJwRapau5KtVFoA2rcRCQMvpR0nY0EwlR0Az6-SbAk5mIlEeQnv2ETe5QQatSwU0vkIMLwjDPltKGRNJ7jnwU3nypWCfEioi8/s1600/03008-760284.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7z7f6oGSCqZdaNhFNIVJDi7YKwLAZJwmn4Cqv_7Z5dkJwRapau5KtVFoA2rcRCQMvpR0nY0EwlR0Az6-SbAk5mIlEeQnv2ETe5QQatSwU0vkIMLwjDPltKGRNJ7jnwU3nypWCfEioi8/s320/03008-760284.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574500159326886146" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> Okay, so I'm not dead. But I definitely got kicked. I moved in with my boyfriend last week. Recently I've been having problems with my phone, and he offered me his old phone to use if I need to. Today was the day for rearranging the bedroom to fit my things in better and I happened to find the box with the phone. Not even thinking about what I could find, I decided to turn the phone on to check it out. Big mistake. I ended up in the text inbox and read a couple texts I didn't need to read. I've never been big on snooping, so I was immediately ashamed but what I read disturbed me. I had to tell him. I'm sure now, that what happened was unintentional, but it made me feel insignificant. He called his last girlfriend the same nicknames he calls me, and also lied about an important piece of information. If I hadn't have been curious about a phone, the ensuing awkward day wouldn't have taken place. Things are fine now- but I'm definitely making sure to ask before I snoop next time. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-29458060687451489242011-02-15T09:59:00.001-08:002011-02-15T09:59:08.797-08:00Day of Love<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEkWOexU6qlCST6Guv-77VtRLdloDaQqkGxznmUU5yiig_mAZ5Xu9bniWUl1m16Ci59CST1emb4bndXjoB_m6yo_CjzHKd6UUAzJ-9_Id6ElQPEGV0PDSXKcLGE02qmW-dk17tIDmGXY/s1600/Photo-0229-748798.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEkWOexU6qlCST6Guv-77VtRLdloDaQqkGxznmUU5yiig_mAZ5Xu9bniWUl1m16Ci59CST1emb4bndXjoB_m6yo_CjzHKd6UUAzJ-9_Id6ElQPEGV0PDSXKcLGE02qmW-dk17tIDmGXY/s320/Photo-0229-748798.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573977416324731810" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> Every year I become more and more annoyed by Valentine's Day. My friends will talk about what they want or how they wonder what their significant others will get them, or bitch about being single. This was the first year since I was 17 that I actually looked forward to it. My boyfriend and I are pretty tight on cash at the moment, so we decided on a spaghetti dinner together and a movie. I wanted to do something special, but not spend too much money, if any. I ended up creating a table setting from construction paper, including a menu, paper flowers in a beer bottle wrapped vase, and a paper candle. He loved it. We exchanged homemade cards, then sat down to eat while very cheesy love songs, picked by me, played in the background. Finally, a Valentine's Day I actually enjoyed, spent the way it's meant to be: with the one I love. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-50607940490816336582011-02-14T07:15:00.001-08:002011-02-14T07:15:16.003-08:00Life Changes<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOWel57jOJxNsBItMW1nX4tclGRYKZ5jSU45OhtP-iq10ZrPqHsylwiCiOVKwrTWANIsSA-M7jF5-p29iF4ddybDVaMyMa0VvvndXHvDAlD8xIeElUeDWtZOvSGoyCT-BvIKyJORs8hs/s1600/Photo-0177-716004.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOWel57jOJxNsBItMW1nX4tclGRYKZ5jSU45OhtP-iq10ZrPqHsylwiCiOVKwrTWANIsSA-M7jF5-p29iF4ddybDVaMyMa0VvvndXHvDAlD8xIeElUeDWtZOvSGoyCT-BvIKyJORs8hs/s320/Photo-0177-716004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573564097365734290" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> As I said in my last post, my life has been crazy since I moved back to Michigan. It's so much different from living in Phoenix. It didn't take me long to get in the swing of things, though. The weather is obviously a huge change. It's my first winter with snow since early 2007. I've been freezing my butt off, but I guess I prefer adding layers rather than not having enough to take off in extreme heat. Winter is also a good season for kids- I've got my niece and nephew Makya and Mitchell in the picture above. I've loved spending every moment I can with them, including playing in the snow. I never thought I could love kids so much. I've never been much for children, but I love these two more than I've loved anything. They are probably the best thing about moving back to Michigan, and they love their Aunt Juj, as well. I'll have to write more on them later- I'm now preparing meatballs for Valentine's dinner with the new love of my life. He's another great chapter. Happy Monday everyone. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-6768986848741600862011-02-13T09:39:00.001-08:002011-02-13T09:39:29.791-08:00My New Life<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNNkZTzZGd8Ay_0FzCJ57drOW9r6K_O-0nSCwTmCHMzYRmVSWLR8cibzOTl2H9P3qwqzBUlD-WDHKvBfxszuhBuGuulwmiRfLM7nr45xw7_DgYxPB5KNMEbJPZ3v9IMLiTM77_bN44kE/s1600/20101231193358-769792.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNNkZTzZGd8Ay_0FzCJ57drOW9r6K_O-0nSCwTmCHMzYRmVSWLR8cibzOTl2H9P3qwqzBUlD-WDHKvBfxszuhBuGuulwmiRfLM7nr45xw7_DgYxPB5KNMEbJPZ3v9IMLiTM77_bN44kE/s320/20101231193358-769792.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573230180424676578" /></a></p><tr height="15" style="border-top: 1px solid #0F7BBC;"> <td> It's been a while since I posted anything on here. I'm hoping that's about to change. My life has been chaotic the last six months and is finally settling down. I'll tell you more about it when I have access to an actually computer. I hope everyone is doing well, and that eventually I'll catch up with all of my followers. Happy Valentine's Day. </td> </tr> Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-5727402606107100072010-08-17T11:06:00.000-07:002010-08-17T11:06:37.909-07:00After AllI've spent that last few hours reading and commenting on my blog subscriptions. All of you guys are so busy, and so productive, I feel like I've accomplished nothing. Although, that is sort of a lie because after all- I moved across the country and am starting all over again.<br />
<br />
It's overwhelming. It's weird sleeping in my "high school" bedroom, surrounded by walls I painted at the end of a disastrous relationship to cover up memories, hanging out with people the remind me of everything that made me leave Michigan in the first place. Sometimes I feel like the only thing that has changed is- well, me.<br />
<br />
My mom and I have never been best friends, which is sad to me. All of my high school friends' parents loved me and I always called them Mom. Maybe it's disrespectful to my own mother, but it is how it is. My mom has not changed at all, despite how everyone tried convincing me otherwise. She is still an alcoholic, she still resents me, she still picks on every detail she can't stand about me, or (as I've recently discovered) is jealous of. She is constantly bringing up the size of my chest in front of people to embarrass me or make me feel bad. My aunt was one of the people there, and she just whispered in my ear, "Your mom is just jealous because she has no boobs." And it hit me- it's true. My own mother is jealous of me because I have curves and she never has. I still don't get it, though. She will be 46 years old this year- isn't it time to get over these things? Apparently not. Old habits die hard- or rather don't die at all. <br />
<br />
My oldest younger brother (he turned 24 in July) also has resentment towards me for some reason. I do not get it. He was the most popular guy in high school. No one knew who I was, but he was homecoming prince, and prom king. He was student body president. He broke the record for our school for most strikeouts thrown in one season (baseball). He is tall, and handsome, and everyone likes him. Yet, he still feels it necessary to make me feel like crap every time we hang out. We had our yearly family reunion this past weekend, and there is always a big party. We had a fire, and we invited some of our own friends, and our Canadian family was there, and it was supposed to be fun. I had fun until suddenly my brother verbally attacked me in front of everyone, yelling at me and saying the most awful things ("you're worthless," "you're a drama queen," "you're fucking crazy," bringing attention to the scars on my arms and legs, etc). Finally a few of his friends actually had to tell him to shut up, but ten minutes later he had me by the arm and was trying to wrestle me to the ground.<br />
<br />
I'm 25 years old. I don't play these games anymore. Maybe it was cute when we were little kids to wrestle and beat each other up, but it's not anymore. I took it that way, too. We were both pretty inebriated, but I fought him off, and I actually ended up pinning him to the ground and he had to tell me to get off. I don't know how, since I'm 5'1 and about 20 pounds lighter since moving back here, and he is 6' and 185, but I did. Everyone was laughing at him and telling him he shouldn't mess with me because that's what he gets. <br />
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Later on though, I ended up walking home, sitting on my bedroom floor, and crying my eyes out. My mom came out and got into it with us, and she stood on his side, telling me I'm a cry baby and drama queen as well. It's just so much to take on. I cut myself for the first time since February. I regret it now, because I thought I was beyond all this, but I suppose the issues are much deeper than I realized. A few years away and some therapy haven't cure the feelings of insignificance and worthlessness I have when it comes to my mom and my brother.<br />
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It's sad that my youngest brother (17) is the person that understands me most and is now the one closest to me, even though there is a big age gap and I missed most of his teenage years. I just can't figure out how to fix the messes around me. In Phoenix it was with my ex and my step mom. Here it's my mom and my brother. It doesn't help that I really do need emotional support. I'm beginning to think that I should apply for social security temporarily, because the unstableness makes it hard for me to even get out of bed some days.<br />
<br />
I'm happier than I have been, but it's still not happy enough to enjoy everyday things, or just accomplish the smallest tasks. I suppose I'm going to work on getting into therapy here, and hopefully, I'll be able to at least mend the pieces and stop anymore from breaking off.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-56510050596974628702010-08-17T00:09:00.000-07:002010-08-17T00:09:56.059-07:00For A Good CauseI'm only posting this link because I know this person well and feel awful I cannot help her out. We grew up in the same neighborhood when we were younger and we just recently met up again, and she is having some hard luck. After going through everything I just went through this last year, I told her to set up a donation site. A lot of good people helped me get home, and I am safe and sound here now, and I'm just really hoping it works for her. So, go <a href="http://justfillerbaby.blogspot.com/2010/08/last-resorts.html">here</a> and read what she had to say, and then spread the word around if you can. I'm going to try to keep tabs if I can.<br />
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I know that blogger is a supportive community for those of us having hard times. Please pass this on for me.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-86940453005095447632010-08-01T10:03:00.000-07:002010-08-01T10:03:16.528-07:00Times ChangeIt's been a minute since I posted on here. As soon as I can, I'm going to get that laptop fixed and get some Internet! <br />
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Nothing new, nothing exciting going on. Sometimes things are good, sometimes they are bad. I'm just kinda hanging in the shadows up here in northern Michigan. A lot has happened but I'll wait until I can really write about it to say.<br />
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Sorry I am not around much to post comments, I promise as soon as I get my computer up and running I will be all over your blogs!Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-54570310263654688602010-06-24T14:53:00.000-07:002012-05-02T08:15:07.475-07:00What A ConundrumI've been in Michigan a little more than a month now. Things are alright, so far. I have been spending a lot of time with my nieces and nephew, my brothers, and my sister-in-law. I am staying with my mom and stepdad, for now, and hopefully I'll land a job soon. I'm not quite sure what I wanna do yet, but I hope to be on my feet by fall. Early winter, at latest. I'm not enjoying depending on other people for rides and the like right now. However, it is better being here, surrounded by my family and friends than in Phoenix, miserable and alone 99% of the time.<br />
<br />
I guess I miss Chris a little more than I expected to. Although I've kept busy and rarely have a spare moment to myself, at night I find myself thinking about him and it is hard. The morning I left Phoenix he sounded as if he really was sad, and that he wanted to stay in touch, and he even told me he would try to visit this winter. Now he is completely mean. He told me not to text him anymore, and that he will send me my stuff as soon as he can, and that he wants me out of his life. I have no idea where this harshness came from. I thought we were ending everything on good terms. It just wasn't meant to be. However, I still wanted to remain friends, even if it is only once in a while, via text or whatever. I don't get why he suddenly had a change of heart. It makes me sad because he was a part of my life, and I do love him. I didn't think we would just suddenly never talk or see each other again. The worst part is that he still has my bunnies, so I have to deal with his attitude until I can have them sent out here. <br />
<br />
On a slightly better note, I have a slight thing for someone. Thing meaning, I'm not sure what it can be because I don't know how I feel about anything. However, when I was still in Phoenix, I had been corresponding with an old classmate since December. He was stationed in Kuwait at the time, but we both flew into the same airport in Michigan on the same day, only three hours apart. We decided we would get together while he was here for a couple weeks. At the time we were talking, he was into this girl that lived here, but she apparently blew him off when he arrived, and he was not so happy. I felt terrible because he did nothing but talk about her on Facebook and he told me they were so much alike, it just seemed right. She is very, very young, though. He didn't really go into a lot of detail about the situation, but the night we decided to get together he basically told me she had decided to move in with her ex and failed to mention it to him. <br />
<br />
He doesn't follow my usual trend in taste for guys. I always vowed to never date a man in the military (my reasons are valid). I have nothing against the men, personally- I just have never wanted to live the military lifestyle. This guy, though- I'll call him S- is a bit different. I'm not even sure sometimes I really like it; I just know that we sort of understand each other, and we both led rough lives as kids. We have the same beliefs, we like the same things. He has a very serious demeanor, though, whereas I'm bubbly and goofy and laugh nonstop most of the time. He has a good sense of humor, just doesn't laugh out loud a lot or smile. I get it, though. I brought it up to him once that sometimes I don't know if he thinks I'm hilarious or a dumb ass. He told me pointe blank, I think you are hilarious, even if it is dumb ass humor you have. It was actually a compliment! He calls me "Doll" and "Love" a lot. Which could just be something he calls all girls/women that he adores, for all I know. However, I still find it sweet. <br />
<br />
We got together about a week after we both got back to Michigan. We ended up going to his parents house for the night, to have drinks, watch movies, listen to music, and talk. It was fun. We talked about everything. I was a little nervous, a little ditzy, and drank a little too much. He did too, though, and nothing terrible happened. I did not go crazy (well, in a bad way, anyway), although I was loud. I'm always loud. I don't know how to train myself to be quiet. How is it done? His parents live down the road from my sister-in-law (that is a story for another time, I'll say), so I told him he could just drop me off there. She invited him to stay a while, and so he did. My nieces and nephew were there, and he was SO good with them. My youngest niece adored him. She usually cries around new people, especially men, being as she's only 8 months old. But she didn't cry at all. He held her and played with her and it was so endearing. I have never had the ambition to have kids someday, but it was still sweet watching him with them, and knowing he would probably be a good dad. (Isn't that one of the things a woman is supposed to look for in a man?) <br />
<br />
He stuck around for the night, and we had a few drinks and a fire and some music. My sister-in-law liked him, which is good, because usually she can usually tell if someone is an asshole or not. He ended up leaving around midnight, and I walked him to his truck. He gave me a hug, and he kissed my forehead. That was when I was thrown for a loop. A kiss on the forehead is usually a sign of affection, correct? I told Pam, and she thought it was sweet and probably meant he liked me, and thought of me as more than just you know...a piece of ass or whatever. And that made me feel like a million dollars. Chris never kissed my forehead. Not once in almost two years.<br />
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He was only here to pack up the rest of his things, because he has duty in Washington for a year. So we saw each other once more, and then he was busy the rest of the time. We have talked on the phone, and have texted almost everyday. I try to give it a rest, since I don't want to seem desperate, needy, or clingy. I'm not any of those things. I do enjoy talking to him. We always have something to talk about. He never seems annoyed, even if I do drunk text him nonsense (I have a thing for lyrics from 80's butt rock songs). He always says, "Sweet dreams [doll/love]." I do not want a relationship currently. I have too much to do and think about to have to worry about giving someone else enough attention. Plus, he is in Washington for a year. In a way, it is sort of good. There isn't so much pressure on either side. <br />
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One of the best parts- he's a musician. He plays guitar and writes songs. I've always had a weakness for musicians. I've only dated two or three non-musicians. I just find it so sexy. So even though he doesn't fit my usual canvas for a guy, he still has traits I totally fall for. Which makes it <em>that</em> much harder. Sigh. Maybe it isn't what I should be thinking about right now, but is it so wrong for me to want it? I'm 25. I know to some it doesn't seem so old. But when I look around and see all of my friends settling down, getting married, having kids, it makes me feel as if I'm still living my high school years. I know that it isn't rational. Everyone goes at their own pace. I'm not ready to settle down and I'm not ready for marriage nor kids. In fact, I've never wanted kids. At one time I wanted to be married, but since the first time it failed, I've been slightly wary of the whole thing. Now I look at myself, and wonder if I'm really going to end up alone for the next 20 years because I've been so anti-marriage and kids. I do not want to be alone, but I know that I need someone who can deal with my mood swings, my crazy lifestyle, and wants the same things as I do. And that doesn't come easily.<br />
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I suppose I shall end this here. My niece is getting into cookies and my nephew just woke up. Time to be an aunt and a good babysitter.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-55366577140831971262010-06-05T22:00:00.001-07:002010-06-05T22:00:07.955-07:00I really need to get mobile internet but I can't afford it right now. I took a picture of heart shaped cheese then realized I couldn't send it. This saddens me.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-23321071780003977262010-06-03T14:33:00.000-07:002010-06-03T14:33:21.403-07:00Sweet Home Michigan, yeah!I do not have much time to post, as I am actually using a friend's computer. But I will tell you this-<br />
<br />
I finally made it home to Michigan. YES! I did. However, I'm mighty sad it was sans bunnies. :( I still have to find a way to get them here soon. Hopefully I'll land a job, and be able to have them with me by the end of July. I didn't realize how expensive bunnies are to fly or ship. Chris has them in his new apartment safe and sound so.<br />
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I just wanted to say that. Hope everyone is doing great!Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-54192326898150227012010-03-31T11:01:00.000-07:002010-03-31T11:01:41.924-07:00Still In Desperate TimesI just wanted to post my most desperate blog yet. Don't judge me.<br />
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My cable got shut off. So this means- <br />
<br />
1) I have no TV<br />
2) I have no Internet<br />
3) I have no phone<br />
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Once again I am like a hermit. Therefore, I won't be able to keep posting links for people to help me out. Seriously, it's getting bad. The ex I live with is refusing to help pay for any of my living expenses, and I can't even call my mom to let her know what is going on without spending five dollars at a pay phone- I don't even HAVE five dollars. Not to mention, my one good bra broke the other day, and seriously, this one incident sent me into a downward spiral to depression. Why? Well, how would you feel if you only own one bra that was two sizes too small and cut off circulation, therefore leaving you panting all day and sore when you finally take it off?<br />
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I hate being a beggar, but at this point in time, I don't even care. I am at a friend's house using her computer, so hopefully people will see this, and help me out. Even donating five bucks will help. <a href="http://girl-meets-gun.blogspot.com/2010/03/help-friend.html">Donate Here</a> to help me out. Please, I'm on my knees, begging you, as pitiful as it sounds.<br />
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Desperately Panicked-<br />
NicoletteNicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-91237423029596739672010-03-27T15:27:00.000-07:002010-03-27T15:28:25.570-07:00Juj-Style Stuffed French ToastA friend wanted the recipe for the French toast I made the other day, and because I sort of guessed at everything, I don't have exact measurements or instructions. But- if you know even a hair about baking you should be fine with the following recipe. As always with baking, you don't need exact measurements because it isn't an exact science. So you your best judgements. <br />
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So, depending how many people you are going to be feeding, you have to adjust all of my guestimates. I made four pieces and one piece is two pieces of bread, plus the filling. One is enough for one person.<br />
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You will need:<br />
Thick or heavy bread (Italian or raisin bread works)<br />
Eggs (3+, depending on faces you are serving)<br />
Milk<br />
Cream cheese<br />
Powdered sugar<br />
Vanilla/nutmeg/cinnamon/almond extract (pick one or two, vanilla is needed for filling)<br />
Any fruit or jam you might want for the top or filling<br />
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Pre heat oven to 350.<br />
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Start with three eggs, and probably little less than a cup of milk. Beat the eggs and milk like you would for regular French toast, add some vanilla extract (a tablespoon, more or less for taste). <br />
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The bread needs to be thick, or sort of stiff. I used homemade raisin bread because it's really heavy and won't fall apart in the egg mixture. Soak four pieces in the eggs mixture, and put them in a nonstick pan (be sure to use baking grease on your pan- I learned the hard way nonstick does not really mean nonstick). They need to be REALLY soaked. <br />
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So, while those are sitting in the pan, go over to your bar of cream cheese. You need to beat the shit out of this if you don't have a mixer, and you may have enormous muscles when you're done. Add half a cup of milk to it. Depending on how thick you want the stuffing to be, you can add more. Once it's semi-beat to death, add a quarter cup of powdered sugar, and two tbs of vanilla extra, or you can use whatever you'd like- nutmeg, cinnamon, almond extract. Make sure this is good and mixed. If you want, you can also add some jam to flavor it, or even a mashed banana or two.<br />
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Once you have this done, spread out the filling on top of the bread in the pan. You can put as much as you want or as little. I put a few scoops per slice. Next, soak your next pieces of bread for the top. Slap them on them on there. You may or may not have a lot of egg mixture left, but pour the remaining over top of the bread. Doesn't matter if there is some in the bottom because the bread will soak it up, or the eggs will just bake.<br />
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Stick it in the oven. Depending if you LIKE butter on it or not, you can pull it out at 20 mins to dollop some butter on it, and some cinnamon or powdered sugar. Stick in the oven for another 10-15 minutes. You will know it is done when the top is browned. I stick a knife in the center to see how mushy the bottom pieces of bread are, as well. It's hard to tell when they are done, but you will know.<br />
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And, it's ready to serve! Make sure you separate them and take them out of the pan ASAP because otherwise they will dry to the pan. Of course you can put fruit, syrup, etc on top. They are VERY filling though, so don't make any heavy sides. Maybe some turkey bacon or something. Plus, if you're on a diet- unless you use lowfat everything, it's going to be a bit on the high cal side.<br />
<br />
That is my recipe! Tell me if you end up making it. :)Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-86415851781284614572010-03-25T22:59:00.000-07:002010-03-25T22:59:52.280-07:00Finding It Hard To FeelI've never been one for affection. I was never hugged and kissed as a child; I never had parents that praised me or made it known that I was in fact loved. It may hurt them to know I realize this now, as an adult, because I find it had to show affection to anyone I love. Of course, I still say 'Love ya,' to my friends, closest family, et cetera; but real affection? Unheard of. I do not know what it feels like to want to express that part of myself.<br />
<br />
This is all hitting me very hard because there are certain people in my life I wish I could say and do affectionate things towards. I am feeling lately like they may take it as rejection when I don't return their gestures. It's not that I don't want to, or that I don't feel it. It is that, well...I don't know how to and still feel comfortable with myself.<br />
<br />
I've always been closed-hearted despite how very big-hearted I am. I let people in all the time- if I like you, you find a place in my heart. At the same time, it's rare to find me opening that part of myself up to just anyone. <br />
<br />
Why is this? I think if I could solve this problem about myself, I could solve my problems in life, period. Maybe if I could feel and let in a little bit more love...affection...I may be a bit happier with myself and my life.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-34460117702200351142010-03-23T02:16:00.000-07:002010-03-23T02:16:15.753-07:00The Art of DissectionSometimes I believe that this journey we all go through called Life is nothing more than a sick joke created by Man himself to amuse his days and nights. Other days I realize this couldn't possibly be true, because despite the fact that some scenes here on Earth are hilarious, and sometimes heart warming, others are completely wretched and heart breaking. No sane entity would enjoy watching the suffering of others. Yet there is so much of it today.<br />
<br />
Without tragedy, we'd have no way to judge our happiness. It seems like a contradiction in itself. Why couldn't we all live in complete oblivion of what happiness or sadness was? Why is it that we have been bestowed upon with these these flutterings and flappings of feelings? Feelings, feelings...<br />
<br />
The very essence of them both drags and lifts me in a hundred different directions while still managing to hold me down in the very spot I wish to be far away from. If I could fly, I would do so in a heartbeat, but I know that at the same time, I'd long for Earth once I was in the sky. Isn't that the way it is, though? You hate the very place you're in only because you are there- if you were somewhere else you would want to be back where you were before. Sort of like how I long for Michigan but dreaded it while I was there.<br />
<br />
The only way to fix this knotted rope of crazy feelings is to accept them as they are and move on in life. I cannot keep holding myself down because I don't understand something. I could ponder and wonder and disassemble and reunite every piece of emotion that I feel and it would accomplish nothing. I'd still be a bundle of confusion. I think this goes for everyone. Others are just more accepting of the fact, and instead of trying to figure everything out they go on about life. I always thought one of my greatest talents is being able to say exactly how I feel. Maybe it is one of my greatest faults as well, for if I wasn't so great at doing so, maybe I would spend more time living life instead of dissecting it.<br />
<br />
So far, it's done nothing good for me. I love to dwell. I could probably put it as one of my favorite past times. I'm good at it. In parting ways with Arizona, I want to teach myself to forget dissecting and instead enjoy everything as a whole, not as pieces of something larger than myself. Though parts of life have seemed cruel jokes, life altogether is not. It is sad, and crazy, and lame, and sometimes disastrous, but it is great. I think I will toss away my knife for now and forget taking things apart. Maybe it will make more sense to me then. Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-56163285314584011392010-03-14T20:25:00.000-07:002010-03-14T20:25:35.333-07:00Still Getting ThereWell, I'm about a month and a half away from moving day and couldn't be more thrilled. Everyone seems so happy I'm coming back. I've already got offers for places to stay back in Michigan, and my cousin even offered to take my rabbits on her farm if I needed a bit to figure stuff out. I am feeling more positive about life than I have in a while.<br />
<br />
I started this donation thing because of my friend. She wanted to help me out but knew that if I had all my friends pitch in five bucks I'd EASILY have enough to send my stuff back and fly home. My biggest fear is leaving all of my stuff behind. I do not want to leave my book collection behind. We're talking 15 years worth of collecting, and a lot of them I like to reread. I've already donated about half my paperbacks, when I first moved here. <br />
<br />
So anyway, in case you didn't read my last post, I set up a donation site and just need a little more help to get back to Michigan. Once the lease is up on this apartment on May 31st I will officially be homeless here. I'd rather not wait til the last minute to get things done. If you want to help, refer to my last post <a href="http://girl-meets-gun.blogspot.com/2010/03/help-friend.html">here</a> and it's much appreciated if you can. I've only gotta little ways to go. My mom and some of my family are paying for my flight- I just need help shipping some stuff. I've got about 6 or 7 boxes left, so, it's about a hundred bucks. <br />
<br />
That's really all that's up. Been trying to stay sane and keep my head on straight until I actually get going. I suppose now that's all I have left to do- wait!Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-38479481093003150752010-03-11T16:58:00.000-08:002010-03-14T16:12:14.387-07:00Help A FriendAlright, here goes-<br />
<br />
My good friend Beth told me to do this. It's for a good cause. <br />
<br />
On May 31st my lease is up on my apartment. I am trying to move back to Michigan and have limited funds to do so. My plan was to have someone fly out, help me pack, and then we would drive back in a truck. I don't have a driver's license, so it's sorta hard for me to do that. I found out to rent a U-Haul for a three day drive is close to 2 grand. There is no way I'll come up with that much in two months. <br />
<br />
So, here is my plan instead: I need enough money to at least send my belongings back home. This is going to cost me about $500-$600, depending. I'll be flying back to Michigan with my rabbits. <br />
<br />
This is all very sudden, because my boyfriend and I broke up and I basically have nowhere to go out here right now. I've been job hunting with no luck and there's no way I can afford to live on my own in Phoenix. If you want to help, just use the donate button below. Anything is appreciated, really. I know everyone is having a hard time right now, so don't feel bad if you can't.<br />
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Thank you all, for being supportive and helping me through the hard times. <br />
<br />
~Nicolette<br />
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**EDIT: I would just like to update this by saying, so far I have gotten $100 from people donating. Thank you so much. I'm that much closer to getting home, and also, I am already starting to ship out my things this week. I need about $200 more, so please, if you're just reading this, help me out! :) I would just love to be back in northern Michigan with my family and friends!<br />
<form action="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr" method="post"><input name="cmd" type="hidden" value="_s-xclick" /><br />
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<img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="https://www.paypal.com/en_US/i/scr/pixel.gif" width="1" /></form>Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-90986743797025751062010-03-05T12:56:00.000-08:002010-03-05T12:56:46.466-08:00Places You Have Come To Fear The MostMy title comes from a song by Dashboard Confessional, of the same name. You should check it out sometime.<br />
<br />
I haven't been back here in a while. Why? you ask. Because- I feared reading what I had written about the 'incident' and what other people had to say about it. I suppose I shouldn't fear such things- there are far worse obstacles to get through.<br />
<br />
I really have nothing in particular that I would like to blog about today, but I would like to bring up several topics that have been on my mind. Rather, questions really, not topics, although they could make entire blogs themselves. First up to bat- dating and age.<br />
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When is it okay for an older woman to actually hit on a younger man? I'm not talking 40 year old cougar hitting on 25 year old law student. Think younger than that, on both counts. I know someone who is my age, talking to an 18 year old. That is a 6 year difference, in age and probably moreso in maturity. Does an 18 year old guy even know what he's doing in life, let alone with an older woman? I'm not so sure. I have mixed feelings. The guy can be incredibly insightful, yet at times I feel there is something lacking- like, several years. I suppose it's in the eye of the beholder.<br />
<br />
I don't want to delve too far into that because I would rather not dissect it. It will make me critical of the people involved and that's something I'm not willing to do at this point.<br />
<br />
The second issue would be- what to do when you've fallen out of love, but can't bring yourself to admit it.<br />
<br />
The time has come. After months and months of being frustrated and devastated and torn, I've finally hit my brick wall- I am no longer in love. Whether it is because of the numerous break ups, the things he has done to me, or the names he has called me, I no longer care. I don't want to be with him anymore. It is quite obvious he is only with me out of convenience, so what is so hard about this?<br />
<br />
How can you explain to someone you just need time to figure out where you're going to go and what you're going to do before you move out? I have no idea. That's the truth. I have nowhere to go. Last time this happened I moved to Colorado, and that didn't turn out so well. I was back here a month later. But now it is me doing the breaking up. What do I say? "I don't love you anymore, but I need to stay here until I figure out my life?" I'm sure that'll go over real well.<br />
<br />
How confusing and difficult. I thought the worst was behind me in high school. These are definitely more substantial and crazy times for me. I'll be 25 in 3 months, yet I feel years older. I look it, too. The stress and sadness has definitely taken it's toll on me.<br />
<br />
While I'm here, I'd like to thank the people who haven given me awards that I haven't mentioned. I do recognize them, though, and will try to get around to posting them. I appreciate your support and attention, though.<br />
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With that, I sign off. Happy March, everyone. The first day of spring is just around the corner.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-49266250004145834032010-02-06T02:39:00.000-08:002010-02-06T02:39:36.998-08:00The Drunk WaysI wrote my last blog in the heat of the moment. I have told no one my true thoughts and emotions on the catastrophe, yet it was the least commented of all of my blogs.<br />
<br />
It is because it was too long.<br />
<br />
There is no certain length of words which to describe something so spectacular (whether truly wonderful or absolutely terrible) . I feel absolutely lost in the words I wrote because those are what I still feel.<br />
<br />
I don't feel words are necessary for that. My drunk driving is enough to say- I was a loser.<br />
<br />
I don't want to blame anyone for my ways. But I will always blame you, in my heart, because you have destroyed everything I've built in the last ten years all by drinking three beers, and your luck was passed on to me.<br />
<br />
Sincerely, <br />
MeNicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-13187770255393193672010-01-30T06:21:00.000-08:002010-01-30T06:21:19.790-08:00A Night Not Worth ItI lay in bed reading tonight (this morning) because I've found it hard to sleep until I'm totally exhausted. Not exactly the best thing for anyone, but not new to me. After putting down my book for the night, turning off my light, and rolling over, the thoughts and memories of my past came back to me, and I felt ashamed and embarrassed once again. I do not reveal this to many people I am not close with, but for some reason, I just have to get it off of my chest.<br />
<br />
In summer of 2006, one of my oldest friends was pulled over and arrested for drinking and driving. I remember we were both at another friends, watching movies and drinking that night, and I had planned to stay the night. She, on the other hand, did not. My friend has had a lot of serious issues in the past, and her drinking is one of them. She didn't have that many while we were together. She was also not a lightweight and it took quite a few to get her drunk, but I told her not to leave. She got a text from a guy though, and decided to meet up with him. It wasn't then she was pulled over, but on her way home from a bonfire. I remember waiting up for her text that she got home, but I never got it. I tried calling several times but she never answered. Finally, at four AM, I fell alseep, and not but an hour later I got a call from her. She was in jail, and she was laughing about it.<br />
<br />
I admit I laughed. I couldn't believe she had done it, for one, and two, she had always been a good kid growing up. Both of us were sort of the goody-goodies in our school, and didn't start drinking until several years after high school. However, this was also the summer several accidents happened that involved people from our own school. She was lucky she wasn't one of them. One girl I was on the cheerleading squad was killed. Another guy was left paralyzed after the driver of his vehicle flipped it, going 80 miles an hour down a curved road. It was a sad summer for everyone. <br />
<br />
This was also the same summer my ex and I officially cut off contact between each other. We were both seeing new people, but it was still hard on both of us. I moved back in with my mother, whom I had never had a good relationship with (until the recent year). I was depressed and confused by everything going on. My friends were constantly fighting amongst each other, and it seemed I was always in the middle of it. Not to mention, but my best friend moved to Germany a few months before, so I felt completely lost. Come late 2006, I was pretty much a wreck. I fell for someone that had liked me a lot at one point, but after being shut down by me, decided I was just a good friend. It broke my heart. My mom and step dad were at my throat for everything. To say the least, 2006 was the worst year of my life.<br />
<br />
I met up again with a guy I had hung out with for a short period in 2004. Our relationships seemed to be falling apart, and we connected on a level I knew was strictly situational, but I couldn't help but like him. We split ways, and it was by chance I ran into him in fall of 2006, at a bar I rarely went to on a night I did. Even though it was a bit awkward, seeing each other as we did, we exchanged phone numbers. It was something I will forever regret, and wonder if I hadn't done it, if things would be different.<br />
<br />
We hung out several times in December before I left to visit my dad in Phoenix. I hadn't moved out here yet, and wanted to test the waters. Michigan obviously wasn't working out for me, and a change of scenery seemed to be what I needed. It was a great trip, but I still wasn't sure I wanted to stay. The friend I had fallen for picked me up from the airport in Grand Rapids on my return, and drive me home, three hours away. There is a back story to him as well, but I'll save it. To say the least, he was the least likely person I would ever fall for but the best person to choose at the time, for a few reasons. I learned he was seeing someone I pretty much despised and of course, like a typical sensitive girl, I fell apart again.<br />
<br />
I began drinking a lot. I was able to cut myself off, and I never drove drunk, but I could still see I was on a downward spiral. I decided to get help from the mental health department in my town, and scheduled an evaluation to be done in January. I had an hour long appointment with a man I didn't feel quite comfortable with, and we decided I needed to start weekly therapy because my emotional and mental health were very obviously spiraling.<br />
<br />
During all of this I began dating the guy I had run into at the bar. He was basically no good. He had basically turned into the Bad Boy From Hell. He drank, he smoked, he got into fights, he got arrested. He paid me a lot of attention, though, albeit it wasn't the sort I needed. Several times I drove to pick him up from the bar after refusing to go with him. I was trying to get help, and even though I saw that he wasn't helping the situation, I didn't want to be alone. I picked him up from a bar one night, and ended up also driving his best friend and girlfriend. We decided to take back roads, because he wasn't supposed to be drinking- he was on probation. In the state of Michigan, if you are on probation, you are not allowed to consume alcohol. That is a fact. I know a lot of states have hard punishments, but I believe Michigan's is one of the hardest. I didn't even bother trying to enforce it with him. Even though I was still considered a good girl at the time, I wanted to be a bad girl. <br />
<br />
I learned how nasty his temper was the same night. He punched my windshield, and it was hard enough to spider-web the entire passenger side. I was in shock. The worst part was, it was over something that had happened several years before, and it still had that effect on him. I yelled at him, and told him he was going to pay for it, but he said he would just have his brother replace it since he worked for a car repair shop. I should have known, right then and there, but I didn't. <br />
<br />
I remember to this moment the very date things changed for me. January 18th, 2007. Nothing significant to be back then. It was Dollar Pint Night at most of the bars in downtown Traverse City. All of my friends were going, except for me. I had chosen to not go, and was fine with it. I hung out with my best friend and her boyfriend, and looked at wedding dresses with her. I was content to stay in and stay sober. At a little bit before midnight, I got a call from the crazy guy, asking me to come down to his favorite bar. So I did. He proceeded to act like an ass to me, and I wasn't having it. After half an hour of enduring his cockiness and smart ass remarks, I told him I was leaving. He followed me out to my car, where he demanded I wait to drive him home.<br />
<br />
I said no. I told him to go to hell, and went to open my door, but despite his drunkeness, he was too fast. He hit me in the face, and called me a cunt. I didn't slow down though; I got in my car and drove back to my friend's apartment, where I didn't tell her or her boyfriend anything. I merely said, "I need a really strong drink." <br />
<br />
After that, the night is a blur. I ended up going downtown with my friends after all, where everyone bought me drinks and was so happy to see me. I tried my best to forget what had happened, but I know I was feeling it. Deep down, I wasn't happy; I wasn't laughing or smiling with my friends. I was reliving that moment, over and over again. Someone ended up dropping me back off at my car, and with every intent to not drive that night, I still did. I got in my car, and I drove. I was going to drive straight to that jerk-off's house and give him a piece of my mind.<br />
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I didn't get very far. About five miles down the road I went to make a left hand turn, and I slid into the snow bank on the opposite side. Michigan winter's aren't something you mess with, especially when you've been drinking. The funny part about this is, my cousin actually saw my car, stopped, and said when we talked I seemed fine; sober as could be. She offered to wait with me, and I said nah, I'm just gonna ask someone to help push me out. The guy that offered to help though, wound up calling the police on me, and I was arrested for drunk driving.<br />
<br />
This has been on my mind for three years. Three long years I have thought about what could have happened. And not to me, mind you- but to someone else. What if I had killed someone? What if I had died- what would my family and friends do? How could my decision have affected thousands of others? I haven't had a car nor a license in three years. Despite pleading guilty, and showing proof to the judge I had already personally begun seeking help before this, he gave me the max penalty in the state of Michigan for DUI. Nine months probation, 30 days of twice daily PBTs (breathalyzers), 60 days of once daily PBTs, then 90 days of randoms; 60 hours of community service; and then 30 days suspended license, 60 days of restricted license, then $1000 a year for two years to reinstate my license. I had to pay the courts over $2000 in fees, $3 per PBT. I was placed in classes for addicts, which cost me $7 dollars per meeting, twice a week for 9 weeks. I had to pay the county I lived in for damage to a fire hydrant (which I don't think was right, because my car was nowhere near a fire hydrant, nor was I going fast enough to plow through a snowbank in a tiny Cavalier), which was $600. Then, I also had to pay an incarceration fee for the six hours I stayed in jail. I'm not doing the math, but add all those fees up, and you have a lot of money. Subtract $1000 because I haven't been able to pay the last fee to get my license reinstated for the second year.<br />
<br />
I know this has already gotten long enough, but I am almost finished. The attorney they gave me did NOTHING to help my case. I had to pay him, as well, even though it was made mandatory by the judge because of the crime. I plead guilty, straight up, and when the judge asked me what happened, I told him. I told him the truth. I didn't cry or beg or plead with him, I just told him- I had a bad night, and even before it, I had saught out help. I was a volunteer cheer coach at my old high school, which I thought should have proven I am not a typical offender. I was enrolled to join school a week later- which I ended up dropping, because I no longer had a license and had a schedule to follow. I know he was trying to do a service to the community, but giving a 21 year old female with no priors that volunteers to help her community is extreme. He explained that he would make an example of me and what could happen, no matter how great of a person you are, if you made this mistake.<br />
<br />
I lost my spot as coach, because I couldn't get rides. A job I was supposed to start was no longer there for me, because of my schedule. My PBTs had to be done before 10 AM every morning and between 5 and 7 PM every night. My meetings were twice a week. There was no way a job was going to work around my schedule. Yet, they expected me to pay for everything, within 9 months time. If I had been depressed before, I was ten feet under by that point. I know I brought it on myself, but for some reason, I couldn't get a break, no matter how hard I tried at the time. I made a mistake, and I paid. And I'm still paying.<br />
<br />
This is one of the reasons I am unable to sleep sometimes. If I hadn't made that decision, I would still have a license, I would still have a car. I wouldn't be stuck using the bus system. Maybe I wouldn't have even moved out here, and become more miserable. This is proof that one night can change your whole life; one mistake can cost you everything. And the judge did what he wanted- he made an example out of me. So far, it's costed me three years of my life. Yet, it could have costed so much more.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724298976552886653.post-43551439552187791042010-01-26T06:01:00.000-08:002010-01-26T06:02:34.024-08:00Home BaseIt's the end of junior year, and I have a cheerleading awards assembly to go to. It is also around my birthday, so my mom takes me and my bestie Amber to the mall to go shopping, and to eat at my favorite restaurant, Don's Drive-In (if you're ever in Traverse City, MI- OMG must eat there). She buys me a cute new outfit, consisting of a blue shirt that laces up to the neck, a pair of blue jean capris, and some white mules with some crazy design on them. White shoes and I don't go together, and especially half-shoes, due in large part to the fact that I am constantly tripping over things, including my own feet. I just had to have them, though. I have no idea that my first time going to home base in this outfit will not be in the way I expect it.<br />
<br />
The day of my awards ceremony, The Drummer tells me he can't go, but will wish me luck before I leave. My stepsister happens to visit at the same time, so we're waiting on the porch for him to show up. I'm dressed in my new outfit, when The Drummer arrives in my driveway. I am so giddy (this is within the first month we were together) that I gleefully skip down the steps and down our dirt driveway to greet him. Only, I don't make it all the way there. At least, not on my feet.<br />
<br />
It took all of two seconds to realize what was happening, and that I wouldn't be able to stop it. One- I tripped over said new white shoes. Two- I was going to fall, as I was skipping way too fast and would be unable to catch myself. Three- All of this would happen in front of my stepsister, my mother, and my new boyfriend. Two seconds later, my arms were out in front of me as if I was going to slide head first into home base, my face was planted in the dirt, and I was soon gliding right into The Drummer's work boots.<br />
<br />
For about a minute nobody moved. I kept my face down, wondering how I would pull off some smooth exit of this hellishly mortifying moment. But before I could think about it, I began laughing hysterically, and when I do so, I do so silently. My body merely bounced up and down as I cracked up at my own expense. Finally, Drummer Boy reached down to help me up. I took his hand and met his face, and I could see that I had dirt on my nose. And apparently, my forehead, as he wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt.<br />
<br />
My mom and stepsister were laughing hysteically from the porch, but The Drummer didn't know what to do, because we had just begun dating and he wasn't sure it was appropriate to laugh. Later on he told me that he had stood there covering his mouth, looking at me, wondering if I was crying or laughing. I could only picture this but it made me laugh harder at myself.<br />
<br />
I didn't have time to change before the ceremony, so I wound up going to it with my new white shoes covered in dirt. The entire time I sat on stage, I had to concentrate on not laughing becaue I could not believe what I had done. My teammates asked me afterwards why I was covered in dirt, and I couldn't tell them without busting up.<br />
<br />
The worst part is, that isn't even the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me.Nicolettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04235387990495348455noreply@blogger.com3