F is for...F**kin' Perfect

I super love the lyrics to this song. I can really relate:

F is for....Facebook Manners

I'm participating in the Blogging A-Z April Challenge where I blog about a topic associated with a certain letter each day. Yesterday was my birthday and I skipped the letter E. Today I'm still feeling festive with little drive to write, but I thought I'd upload a funny video about Facebook manners for the letter F. Sadly all the rules are true in this video and some people really do some dumb things on Facebook. I think that the video really is cute and funny:

D is for Dress

Today I bought a dress for the first time in over a decade. Once I started gaining weight about ten or eleven years ago, I stopped wearing dresses. I never wore a lot of dresses, but back in the day I used to like to wear dresses out to dance clubs or special occasions. I haven't felt good enough about my weight or body to even try one on in years.

Saturday I am going to the wedding of my boyfriend's friend and I am really excited about it. It will be the first gay wedding that I have ever been to, and it will be on a yacht that floats around the bay. For a week my boyfriend has been excited and asked me to go and get something nice to wear, get some makeup and fix my hair up. Usually he is pretty supportive of my weight or me dressing down. I think it's finally starting to be apparent to him that perhaps I haven't been taking the best care of myself lately.

At first I felt a lot of stress about the event. I know that many of the other skinny wives are going to get all dolled up with hair, makeup, heels and jewelry. I've never cared for jewelry and am sort of a minimalist lately in the makeup department due to allergies. I just hate comparing myself to the other women. I don't feel good about myself.

Tonight I went shopping and I just bought a dress. I am nervous, but excited. Tomorrow is my birthday and tomorrow I am going to mark the day as the first day of my new life, a life where I start caring more again about my appearance, health and weight. In a way I feel like I have low self esteem and am scared to death to wear the dress on Saturday, but at this point if I don't start trying then I never will begin to feel better. It all starts with the first foot forward. And a new dress.

C is for Chloe

I am participating in the Blogging A-Z April Challenge, a challenge where bloggers write about a topic associated with a certain letter each day. Today is the third day of the challenge and the letter is C.

A year ago my boyfriend brought home a small black dog that he rescued from his father's house. His father had an uncanny knack for acquiring dogs that he wouldn't really take care of. He would lock them up with cats in cluttered rooms, or in a yard where they would escape. Eventually my boyfriend would bring the dogs over to his house to take care of.

In the backyard of my boyfriend's house there was already a large great dane that he had rescued from his father. There was also an old yellow chihuahua. And a young female boxer. And then one day a little black dog named Baby showed up. I was irate.

I yelled, whined and stomped my feet. "Your father is so irresponsible!" I complained. "I'm tired of him getting dogs and not taking care of them. That dog needs to go!" I demanded.

"He bought the dog for my niece," he explained. "It won't be here for very long".

I hated little Baby. For the first couple of days and nights she barked incessantly and I wanted to rip my hair out. I plotted and planned that I was going to give her away to people at work and tell my boyfriend's father that she had ran away. One sleep-deprived evening I even lay on the couch and thought about killing her if she wouldn't stop barking.

At the time I had recently lost two of my dogs that I had owned for twelve years. Within a four month period they both got sick and died, one basically getting sick as soon as the other died. I was absolutely heartbroken. I just couldn't find it in myself to bond with any of the four dogs in the backyard, although I had agreed to adopt the Boxer. I didn't pay any of them much attention.

One day I brought the Boxer and the little black dog home to my house. I stayed alone with them for about three weeks without taking them to my boyfriend's house because the little black dog Baby was in heat. Days passed and suddenly Baby started to crawl into my bed and snuggle with me at night. And then suddenly I decided to rename her Chloe.

Now I am really starting to love Chloe. I can still feel myself being detached from her because I am afraid to have my heart broken over a dog again. But each night that she crawls into my bed to sleep at my feet, I get a warm fuzzy feeling of love all over again. Hopefully one day Chloe will mend my broken heart.

B is for Baby Fever. Or, Biological Clock

I am participating in the Blogging A-Z April Challenge, a challenge where bloggers write about a topic associated with a certain letter each day. Today is the second day of the challenge and the letter is B.

There once was a time when I had a major aversion to babies. Strangers' babies, friends' babies, any baby-I didn't care for them. They never looked cute to me; in fact, they looked red, slimy, and sticky. I thought they were smelly and loud. I never felt the urge to hold them. I used to feel irritated by sitting next to them in restaurants. And, I certainly never wanted one of my own.

I've always had a pet peeve with babies in my work space. I have never really understood women who have a baby and bring them into the office. Everyone stands around, cooing and ahhing, competing with one another to hold the baby. As a manager, I always pop myself out of the office, force myself to look at the baby, say "Oh, how cute" and then go back to work. I swore up and down that I would never! bring one of my future babies into the office. For years I even swore that I wouldn't be caught dead having a baby.

Years ago my boyfriend used to tease me that we would have three babies. He came from a family of three boys and wanted three children himself. "Hell no!" I used to say. "I don't want a child at all, but you want three. Can we compromise on just one?" I asked. He agreed. That conversation persisted until I was about 33 years old. Then one day I just stopped all my protesting.

A year and a half ago I rescued a dog that I thought was pregnant. (She wasn't). I suddenly became so nurturing towards her and her future puppies. A couple of months later, while out walking with my boyfriend and the dog, I started pointing out everything baby-a puppy, a baby bird, even-shall I say it?? (gasp)- little human babies all over the neighborhood. Then I started to notice and look at babies everywhere and even found myself once saying, "Oh, how cute!"

Now my baby fever had morphed into something else. Now I am completely obsessed with giving life. I want to plant and grow flowers, herbs and plants-although all of my life I have effectively boycotted gardening. I wonder if little bugs I see are babies. I want to read about baby caterpillars, tadpoles and I even think little baby mice are oh so cute. I see flowers sprouting from plants and trees, and cute little baby grass, plants or weeds sprouting in dirt or through cracks in the pavement.

Now I want to quit my job and start popping out five or six babies, and then adopt even more! I want to give up my job so that I can run around in the park all day long with my little babies and dogs. In three days I will be turning 36 and I think that I'm almost ready to have a baby!

Babies here, babies there; babies, babies, everywhere! Babies! Babies! Babies! I have baby fever!!

April Birthdays

I am participating in the Blogging A-Z April Challenge, a challenge where bloggers write about a topic associated with a certain letter each day. Today is the first day of the challenge and the letter is A.

I'm suffering from writer's block, so I figured that I would write about April birthdays since April is the most jam packed month of birthdays in my life.

April 1st is a close friend's birthday.

April 2nd if my father's birthday.

April 4th is my step father's birthday.

April 5th is my birthday.

April 7th is my ex's birthday.

April 10th is another ex's birthday.

April 15th is my boyfriend's birthday.

April 17th is a close friend's birthday.

April 26th is my mom's birthday.

April 29th is my brother's birthday.

April 30th is my half brother's birthday.

Is April not a super birthday month for me, or what??