Forced To Create The Term Douchebaggette, A Year Ended And It Begins Again, Tidbits From My Family Visit, And Further Ramblings


I am one of those people who tries very, very hard to be the best friend I can possibly be.  I try so hard that I tend to let folks walk all over me in my attempts to remain loyal and reliable and such.  One of the folks who took advantage of my die-hard friendship ideal reached a whole new level of horrendousness (that is totally a world, spellcheck, you’re just being an asshole).  This person, whom I had supported and loved despite the countless words of advice I received to sever ties with her, not only repaid my devotion with deplorable behavior, she decided I owed her for things she claimed to be doing out of friendship.  This person, who once left me stranded at the emergency room to go spend time with her jackass pothead boyfriend, apparently felt it appropriate to demand money from me.  Her behavior forced me to create the term douchebaggette.  So, I guess I almost owe her a thank you for helping me come up with this fantastic new terminology.  Except she’s a total douchebaggette and therefore is undeserving of a thank you.  Instead, I thank my delightful brain for creating this nifty new insult.  Yay for my brain!

2015 ended on a rather shitty note for me in the whole losing my job sort of way, though it did also end with an awesome visit with the fam, which served to make me significantly less bitter.  2016 looms before me, full of equal measures of dread and hope.  I am jobless, but I hope to find something far better than the previous job.  I am financially depressed, but I am totally used to living in broke-land so whatever.  In other words, bring it on 2016.

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Just some of my fave pics of miss Chloe from my recent visit.  We have some attitude and some artistic activity and a silly face and, of course, more gang signs.  I love this little girl so much.  She makes me laugh and drives me bonkers and gives amazing hugs and can make even the darkest day so much brighter.  I had a great time hanging out with her and spending time with her Elise and Alex and Drew and Carrie and Steve and Scott and Judy and Kellen ( I totally know I’m spelling her name wrong and for this I apologize profusely) and Sierra and Mike.  Touring Chloe’s new school, enjoying meals together, watching Born This Way together (which Chloe refers to as watching the big kids–she loves that show!), having bizarre conversations with Drew involving a platypus and a spider named Chico, making art projects and ringing in the new year at Gigi’s Playhouse–I loved every minute.  And Pierre had an adventure of his own too.  When I first got there, there were too many cars in the driveway, so I parked Pierre on the street nearby.  Well, a couple days went by and I didn’t need to drive Pierre, and there were still cars in the drive for most of the time, so I left Pierre on the street.  Then weather happened.  First it sleeted, then it snowed, then it sleeted and snowed.  The next day, plows came through.  As you can probably guess, poor Pierre got a bit buried.  Okay, a lot buried.  Like, to the tops of his tires and can’t open the doors buried.  It took Carrie and Steve and several kind neighbors and a tow cable to extract poor Pierre from the mound of snow and ice.


Have I metioned I’m rather tired of being sick?  Not like, sick sick, just not better and still coughing my face off.  I have so much frickin’ candy and junk food left from Christmas time, it’s rather mind-boggling.  At the rate I’m going through it, I might have it gone by next Christmas…possibly…if I have help.  How do they find all these tragically beautiful/adorable children and animals for the charity commercials?  Like, do they have auditions?  Advertisements for children with the biggest, most soulful eyes ever?  God help my bank account if I ever get rich and have money to give these huge-eyed waifs and the raggedy mournful critters…I’d be broke in no time.  I just love the Discovery Life channel!  They have all sorts of nifty trauma shows and medical docs and such.  I just watched one show where a kid came in and his foot was all floppy and hanging by a dinky looking piece of skin and such–so fascinating!  Now there’s a cop with a dislocated knee and he’s all kinds of not loving the pain or the idea of being un-drugged when they pop the kneecap back in place (why is that even an option?!?  who wants to be all aware and coherent and such when they do that?!?!)

Asta la pasta kiddies!



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