Oh wowsers, did I have some fun last night. Yes, my feet were killing me by the time we made it home, but it was so completely worth it. It’s been forever since I really made it out and about, aside from Gen and Aaron’s and the gym. The Buzz 107.7 here in Seattle was hosting another one of the B J Shea shows in Everett last night. The weekend before John and Aaron hit the one in the Southcenter area with some seseme oil wrestling or something.

That night I was stuck with the girls’ night out scenerio at Gen’s, watching “What Men Want”, when all I really cared about was what I wanted. Not only that, but I had to listen to Gen’s friend tell me no matter how I dislike pink and don’t want anything frilly now, that it won’t matter if I have a girl, I’ll grow to love it. Bullshit. Thanks for letting me know you think my opinions are pointless and worth nothing.

But anyway, this weekend I wanted anything but to hang out with the girls. Besides, myself, miss horny, got way to many strange looks with my gutter comments last weekend. ‘nough of that. Time to hang out with the guys.

I was all for the show in Everett last night…bikini contests rock. Of course, after hearing about and viewing pictures of this Erin chick who was at the last show, I was definitely interested. We piled into John’s Ranger, John, myself and Aaron. Tight squeeze, and something I won’t be able to do once this baby and the belly grows. The area wouldn’t be opened until 8:30pm so the guys had some SoCo drink and I had my Sprite. Some chicken strips were ordered but sheesh, didn’t see them for at least 45 minutes. I’m gonna have to start learning to order before I’m hungry ’cause I’ll be hungry within two hours anyhow.

The men’s gladiator part of the deal took forever, because, of course, all the men felt the necessity to prove their manhood to the likes of everyone. They just bored me. I ended up front by the stage for the bikini contest which worked out great for picture shots. I’m sure there’ll be a few pictures with the stairwell railing in em as I aimed for ass shots.

The contest was pretty cool, though not as many thong bikinis as everyone had hoped for, lol. One of the things they had to do was a fake orgasm, and I have to admit, the two who decided to combine theirs did a wonderful job. Funny how the one girl at the beginning had to be coerced into signing up, but by the end of the night she was shaking that booty like nothing else.

The prizes weren’t bad, really. The first girl, Erin (I swear, it was rigged, one of the runner ups should’ve won in a heartbeat), she got the $300, and the other two received some pretty cool gift baskets from Taboo Video. Hey, at least they had a fun night ahead of themselves.

The Derek Jeter bobblehead I bought John is grinning massively and bopping along with my feet tapping on the desk. What a guy.

Well, the boss knows now. Whew. I knew he wouldn’t be upset, and I knew he’d be supportive, but it just feels good to get if out and let him know. At least now if he sees me and notices I’m not feeling well he’ll know why. Now, I wonder how long it’ll take for it to spread in the office.

“you’re almost like a man with a vagina and boobies….shit…ya think like one most of the time…”

Hehe, I suppose John’s right. Nothing wrong with me wanting to go to the bikini contest with the guys, right?

The following is an e-mail which was forwarded to me today. I don’t even have a vehicle of my own yet, but I found this quite humorous and had to share. Besides, it goes right along with the hostility which seems to be dominant in posts lately (as noticed by Andrew).

Written by some man…

“I was driving to work yesterday when I observed a female driver cut right in
front of a pickup truck causing him to have to drive on to the shoulder to
avoid hitting her. This evidently angered the driver enough that he hung his
arm out his window and gave the woman ‘the eagle’ “Man, that guy is stupid”
I thought to myself.

I ALWAYS smile nicely and wave in a sheepish manner whenever a female does
anything to me in traffic and here’s why:

I drive 48 miles each way every day to work, that’s 96 miles each day. Of
these, 16 miles each way is bumper-to-bumper. Most of the bumper-to-bumper
is on an 8-lane highway so if you just look at the 7 lanes I am not in, that
means I pass something like a new car every 40 feet per lane. That’s 7 cars
every 40 feet for 32 miles. That works out to be 982 cars every mile, or
31,424 cars.

Even though the rest of the 32 miles is not bumper-to-bumper, I figure I
pass at least another 4000 cars. That brings the number to something like
36,000 cars I pass every day.

Statistically, half of these are driven by a female. That’s 18,000. In any
given group of females 1 in 28 are having the worst day of their period.
That’s 642. According to Cosmopolitan, 70% describe their love life as
dissatisfying or unrewarding. That’s 449. According to the National
Institute of Health, 22% of all females have seriously considered suicide or
homicide.

That’s 98. And 34% describe men as their biggest problem. That’s 33.
According to the National Rifle Association 5% of all females carry weapons
and this number is increasing.

That means that EVERY SINGLE DAY, I drive past at least one female that has
a lousy love life, thinks men are her biggest problem, has seriously
considered suicide or homicide, is having the worst day of her period, and
is armed.

Piss one off? …I think not.”

And another thing: To all the fuckers who send me HTML laden emails that taker forever in a fucking day to load when I REMEMBER specifically checking the “text email” box…the fact that I deem you worthy enough to send me mail, you should actually follow the damn form or preferences I filled out. So, you guys can go fuck yourselves.

Believe it or not, everyone, I’m in a good mood. In fact, in the best percolator mood in a long time.

Earlier this week I was able to hook up my old e-mail addy again (stupid Qwest couldn’t just TRANSFER the fucking thing to my new address, but I had to pick a new login until the old login was finally taken off reserve…whatever). So I send/receive in Outlook Express and wallah, and I’m bombarded with tons and tons of messages. Junk mail really. One by one I go through, following the damn unsubscribe directions. Lately I’ve decided fuck the damn spam, I’m no longer approach it with the “oh well, just delete it” attitude. I’m now into the “fuck them, what the fuck are they doing filling up my god damn fucking emails!?!” attitude.

It’d been a couple days since I checked my emails, so I had quite a few today. Get this: 90% of my emails came from the same damn people I told to unsubscribe. The kicker…they read “This is a confirmation you have been unsubscribe from blah blah blah. We’ll miss you”. Fuck you, guys. Do you think you’re making me HAPPY by sending me ANOTHER piece of shit, worthless email? Get fucked.

I opened a membership with Taboo Video last night. We were going to check out the place down the street, but it burned down just a few weeks ago. Oh well, Taboo will do.

John thinks I should start doing porn reviews for my site. It’s a thought, and something I might actually stick with, though I’m not sure if I want to approach it quite yet. Reviewing porn would tell everyone a LOT about my preferences with sex and turn ons, and I don’t think I’m ready to divulge such information. Maybe.

I know many others handle reviews (such as Jane’s Guide), but if you’re interested in porn reviews written by myself, let me know!

High court to hear school grade, honor roll case

What a load of bull honkey! Jesus fucking christ, people, hasn’t anyone ever heard of “grin and bear it”. Just because her 11th grade children were embarrassed by their grades being called out, doesn’t make it a court issue. I mean, really, what a fucking waste of court room time and money. On all sides. If they don’t like their grades being called out, then guess what? Get better grades!!

I understand parents want to protect their children, but there is a point where it becomes ridiculous. Children need to learn to fend for themselves. And it’s not like these were elementary kids for goodness sake. 11th graders? You’d think by then they wouldn’t need mommy and daddy there to save em from school life. Talk about spoiled!

Damn, these cramps are killing me. I feel like I did one hundred too many crunches or something. And to think just a week ago I was wondering if I’d be getting uterus cramps or not. Hadn’t felt any then. Well, got em now. Plenty.

I read about the woman killing all her children from my daily list of links, and I was about to respond to a post on Spitfire! about the woman who killed her infant with scissors, but I’ve decided to post my comment here. It’s absurd how the stupid loopholes in the legal system give room for the insanity plea when it’s just people who aren’t taking responsibility. Those who think it’s perfectly acceptable to kill someone and not pay the consequences. I know I’m saying a lot of what she said, but I completely agree Candi. When I read the article I told John if I get depressed after the kid is born MAKE ME GET HELP. And then I cried just at the thought of hurting my own child, even though I hadn’t originally planned on one.

I don’t get it. I don’t understand the parents who do this; don’t think I want to. As Tom Leykis said a few days ago on his show, if you’re going to kill someone else because you’re depressed, kill yourself. Granted, no one should die, people should realize they need help and get it. But what the fuck is up with these people taking their misery out on the defenseless children of the world?

I’ve been bi-polar for many years. I’ve been on and off different medicines, and yes, there were times I refused to take my medicine because I have this thing against being dependent on drugs. Can’t stand it. But I know I need it. Heh, lately I’ve been wishing I could be back on my lithium because of my ups and downs with the baby thing and John being here, but unfortunately I can’t at the moment. But you know what? When I want to throw something, when I need to get my anger or frustrations out, I tell John. I let him know how I’m feeling; and if anything, I keep to myself just so I won’t hurt anyone else, even if it’d only be with words.

Depression is all over in my family. Yet neither one of us has killed the other. We support each other and make sure we’re doing ok; we don’t ignore the issue. I’m told my mom suffered severe depression when I was born, but then again, she was blind and already had two children…a third one, I can understand why the depression. But she never killed us, never tried to harm us. I don’t care what advocates of those with depression and mental illness, blah blah blah say…it’s not the illness that makes you kill someone. It’s how you are inside, it’s how fucked in the head you are to think taking the lives of children, let alone your own. Mental illness doesn’t have to control your life. You can control it if you REALLY want to.

So I went slightly off the topic, strayed from the responsibility somewhat, but I had something to say. The headlines about children being killed sickened me before I was pregnant, now it disgusts and upsets me even more so. It’s not so easy to push it out of my mind anymore.

It feels like a Monday this morning. Probably because I didn’t get into work until after 1pm yesterday, and I just showed up today like normal. Weird feeling.

I was pretty cranky and emotional yesterday, which of course drove me nuts. I don’t know if John’s just getting used to it or it didn’t really phase him. Either way, I wasn’t in my best of moods. My “retarded day”.

When Gen and I went for a walk with her daughter, John and her husband tried to pull one on me. John should’ve known better. I’d been playing CTR (Crash Team Racing) the past couple days, and had left the game paused on one race. Now, I’m not he greatest at video games in general, but those that require some control of a vehicle I pretty much suck at. I’ve done okay with this game, no speed demon, but at least some decent scores. Gen and I get home and I notice they’ve been racing, ’cause both their names were on the high score list. John keeps asking me if I want to play and I’m turning him down. This of course is against their plan, as I later found out. First, I didn’t want to race, ’cause I figured, hey, maybe John actually did good at a video game (someone who plays as bad as I do). If I raced, and sucked royally, then he just wouldn’t shut up about it. So I didn’t bait. When John told me later all I could do was laugh. Not the funniest thing, but you’d think John would no by now I won’t challenge him if I know he’ll beat me. Except for NHL 2000…I kick his ass.

Part of the emotional bit had me frustrated with Gen, too. When we were in the store I was commenting on how I need to try to eat less junk food and be drinking more water. Obviously something a pregnant woman wants to do. Well, she kept saying she ate candy bars and drank nearly no water while she was pregnant and Teylor turned out fine. Which of course she’s been saying since day one and it’s been pissing me off from day one. Great. That’s wonderful. But guess what? I’m not you! I want to give my child the best chance for a healthy life and I don’t want to be told the changes I’m trying to make are wrong or unnecessary. With this Stickler’s Syndrome in my family, a dominant hereditary syndrome, I have it and will most likely pass on (50/50 chance), the least I could do is eat heathy to give the child one more thing working for it. I know I’m not going to eat perfect, my diet won’t be as rigid as it could or should be, but I’m going to at least try. And being told I don’t have to do it will just make it harder to accomplish. And it’ll piss me off, too.

We didn’t get in any argument, but I finally said something. I was nearly in tears because it upset me so much, but we were joking just a few minutes later.

Btw, this may sound odd, but until last week, I had never tasted a plum. This is of course not counting if my parents ever fed it to me when I was itty bitty, but I highly doubt it. There was never a plum in our fridge growing up.

So John and I are doing our big grocery shopping trip last Saturday and I wanted some fruit. Nothing sounded great, other than the watermelon and cantaloupe we picked up. He asks if I like plums and I had to reply “I don’t know”, ’cause I really didn’t. How weird. Anyhow, so he picked some up. Sunday I tried one, and damn, I love plums. They rock.

Oi, so much to write about. I’ll plug away at everything throughout the day.

I had my first ObGyn visit with my new Doctor, referred to by my friend Gen. Nothing too special or out of the ordinary. We did get to hear the baby’s heartbeat (second time for me, but last time wasn’t with the Doppler). Still a pretty steady and strong beat, so Gen’s convinced it’s a boy. We’ll see. My next appointment is during the first week of August, and I’ll be getting an ultrasound then as well.

Now, about my doctor. Genevieve told me Dr. Burdick was a large woman, and she even showed me a picture with her in it. Yet nothing could’ve prepared me for her size. Nothing. Over six feet tall she had to have weighed over 400 pounds. The look on John’s face when he saw her the first time; I had a tough time not laughing at his reaction. She’s a nice lady, and I’m comfortable with her as my doctor, so that’s what matters, really. Heh, I still don’t have a clue how we fit three people in that room.

Oh yeah, Matt Keith of the Chiefs was picked by the Chicago Blackhawks. And even before the other two Spokane players. Shows ya how good he is, even with the injuries. So, Keith and Heid down, Lucky should be picked tomorrow. Pretty cool, yup.

Gen and I did the garage sale thing today. No, I correct…this morning. At 9am. Sheesh. I must’ve been on crack to be up and out the door that early on a Saturday.

I wasn’t much interested in the garage sale hopping thing as Gen, but I wanted to spend time with her, so figured what the hell. Turns out the majority of the ones we found had baby stuff, so I managed some nifty deals and cute purchases. Total spent this morning: $16. Mind you, five of it went to the brand new, seal unbroken, Avent starter kit; something I wanted to try anyways, so all’s good.

I wasn’t planning on looking for baby furniture but at the last house in Brier I fell in love with a crib. The first time I saw it I figured they had to have spent at least five hundred dollars, if not more. In beautiful condition, and white, so hard to find, plus they were including the mattress, and complete set of bedding with mobile and everything. Unfortunately the amazing price of $200 was too much for me after paying the bills. So I have their number, and their reassurance they haven’t sold it in the past couple garage sales. Most likely because many are just looking for the crib, that’s it. Damn, I hope they still have it when I manage to scramble up the money.

I was a little excited while looking around, but mainly nervous. All I could think about was where everything was going, would I have enough, blah blah. I’m sure we’ll be fine, but can’t help but think about it.

My first visit with my new ObGyn is Monday morning. John’s wants to go in with me, so that’s cool. We’ll have to work on are list of questions this weekend so we don’t forget anything…which I’m sure we will anyhow. Again, I’m nervous, but Gen has reassured me many times Dr. Burdick is amazing and very easy to get along with. It helps knowing the doc’s been doing this for 20 years.

Off to the store with John for our grocery shopping, then to Gen and Aaron’s to watch Castaway. Finally, a Saturday that actually feels like a Saturday.

An email went out earlier anouncing the regular 4:30pm Friday snack. “Pizza and beer”. Great! I thought, pizza and beer. Right on.

Shit. I can’t have the beer. Dagnabbit.

Oi, this is going to take some getting used to.

Woo hoo! My boy Matt Keith (Spokane Chiefs, #19) made the Top 50 North American NHL Draft prospects. Right on! Granted, he’s not at the very top, and he was out with an injury for a bit, so glad they see he’s a good one. Matt’s also listed with two other Spokane teammates, Jeff Lucky and Chris Heid. I can’t wait to watch the Draft tomorrow on ESPN. One of the few things I’ll get up before 10am on a Saturday for. (NHL Draft, ESPN, 9AM PST, 12NOON EST)

Councilwoman peeved over eatery’s “38DD tender breast” menu item

Get over it, lady. When are women going to wake up and realize that no matter what they try to do or say most men love breasts, love the thought of breasts, and are drawn to breasts stronger than magnets. Big fucking deal if an item on a menu is called “38DD tender breast”. Why get so offended? I mean, the majority of women don’t even WEAR that size, so it shouldn’t be an issue. They’re talking about chicken for fuck sake.

Like I’m always saying about Hooters: If you don’t like the idea of the restaurant, then don’t go! Simple as that. Of course, I myself love going to Hooters, not just to inhale the chicken and curly fries I love so dearly, but to pick at the women like with all the other guys. “Hey, John, look at her” or “she’s okay, but could use a tighter butt”, or “right on,she’s got it”.

Ya just gotta go with the flow; it’s amazing how fun it is to be as obnoxious as the men. Especially when they’re not expecting it. I remember frequently grabbing lunch at the Bellevue Hooters with my last job, and nothing was more statisfying than the inquisitive looks from the men already seated in the restaurant. ’cause they’re wondering, curious why I would dare walk in, even enjoy the atmosphere, when most women they know were offended at the thought.

Oh yeah, I know, I’ve strayed way off the original topic, but my favorite thing about Hooters? I actually get attention and service whereas most restaurants won’t give me a time of day. Having the chick at the merchandise counter ask if I want to have some helium from the balloon…now that’s what I call customer service.

Hey, Andrew, that’s low. It’s a bummer she’s not linking images from your site…then you could change the image to say “Mandy stole my site” or something.

Check out the ultimate revenge someone had on a kid who stole his site design.