Half Baked and Half Naked

Archive for March 2008

So, after all the anticipation, the whole “move out” thing fell through. Not due to the fact that I was not ready to do it, but due to the fact that money seems like it is always going to be an issue. Let me restate, not my money issues, but money issues. It is very hard to have any faith that life is going to work out like you want it to when the other person who is expected to be an adult in that life can’t seem to grow up.




Somewhere within all the madness that has become my daily life, my boyfriend and I have found the time to get our own little place. We are moving in on Friday and I am so very excited to begin the “real life” part of what has quickly become a “serious” adult relationship. The only thing I am really dreading, is the fact that I have to pack up Kamy’s stuff, meaning her toys. She has more toys than I think she has ever needed (first grandchild syndrome definitely), and although I have decided to leave at least half of them at my parents house, it will still be a project. I’m sure some will find their way into the dumpster, due to broken pieces or missing parts, but the amount of toys to sort through is still pretty fucking ridiculous.

Fun times though, when my mother and I went to Wickes furniture store last Friday, because it is going out of business, and I got a new set of black micro-suede couches for around $700. Yeah, the normal price – $1700. Ya think I got a good deal? I think so too. After that we spent some more money at my all time favorite store, Target, to buy more general necessities, like matching dinnerware and eating utensils. My mom says that it is one thing to move out with a bunch of friends and have mix and match everything, but when you are starting the real life game of house, you need to have matching sets of things to create a real home. I have to agree.

The hot boyfriend thinks I am just going overboard, but then again, he tells me that it is my house I can do what I want with it. He is already learning his role, and I love it, teehee! In just a few more days, he wont be able to give me any lip about wanting him to come home and sleep in my bed. For these last couple days I am letting him go ahead and be mister “I have to go finish this mural” (the one he isn’t getting paid for), and spend the night at his friends house, painting and getting stoned. Whatever, priorities will prevail in less than three days, and I can handle being alone at night. Actually I kind of like it; I can watch all my ridiculous reality shows without him jumping on my case about them being “too dramatic” or stupid, while he expects me to watch all the fucking History channel specials about “Mysteries of the Freemasons” and such bullshit.

So last week, I would have posted a whole lot more, if it weren’t for the unfortunate accident that happened with the lawnmower running over the internet cable. Yeah, like, I was literally torn from my TMZ, and email, and this lovely blog. I didn’t get to tell you about how my best friend won tickets to the Hollywood Improv to see Dave Attell, and how after the show, we all chilled at the bar with him, and he bought drinks for everyone. I don’t ever want to have this issue again, it fucking sucks, and I felt so disconnected from the world. But, it is fixed now and I am happy again. Yippee!

Anxiously awaiting moving day,


You want to know what sucks the most about being pregnant? Not being able to take anything for the nasty cold you wake up to on a random Saturday morning. Kamy had been sounding like she had a frog in her throat since Thursday, and was quite sniffly, but when I woke up Saturday morning, I knew that she had passed whatever she had to me. What made it worse was the fact that I spent most of Friday and Saturday in tears, which made the snot never ending.

Kamy was able to take some cough and cold medicine, which totally makes her feel better, if not for the nasty taste. Me on the other hand, I have to suffer through the duration of this cold, because of the rule that says I can’t take anything since it might harm the baby. I am totally used to being able to knock out any sever symptoms with some sort of cold or sinus medication that usually makes this KrazyBitch a nice person if she is sick, but not this time. My question is why cant I even take pediatric cold medicine? If it is made for kids, then it can’t be that bad for the unborn, right?

Not so much.

I called my doctor on Monday morning to find out if there was anything I could take, even of the pediatric kind, and was promptly told “NO!” So much for that bright idea. This really sucks because I am all about my sleep, and I haven’t been able to get a full nights rest since Friday night, when I first felt the sore throat coming on. I can’t breathe through my nose, and it seems like every time I finally get comfortable enough to fall asleep, I start coughing.

Don’t get me wrong, I am very excited to be having another child, but I have to say; who ever lied and said pregnancy was a fun and wonderful experience, must not have ever been pregnant. I remember being nine months pregnant with Kamy, and coming down with the flu so bad I could not hold water down. Anything I ate or drank promptly came right back out, either via my mouth, or my ass – all in liquid form. I distinctly remember calling my mother crying for her to come help me. Of course, although she did, it really didn’t make that much of a difference, I still never felt any better. I was told that I could take Pepto Bismol though, but that ended up coming back up as well, until about the 3rd or 4th dose.

Illness sucks in general, but this time it seems like it is hitting me even harder, and I am a big fucking baby when I feel like shit. It doesn’t help that my daughter is sick too, and I don’t feel like I can help her get better while I still feel like utter shit. UGH.

I need to go blow my nose,


Yet another politician has been found to have gotten his dick wet on a prostitute. Elliott Spitzer, Governor of New York, has admitted to sleeping with prostitutes. One in particular has been named, and her picture is now being plastered all over the internet, and all news channels. What I don’t understand is why everyone acts so fucking surprised when these high profile men do things like this? Because they are politicians? Because they are married? Because they are men? Guess what; adultery, be it gay or straight, is a LOT more common than anyone wants to admit. Just because someone is in the public eye, it doesn’t mean they are not just as human as the rest of us “regular” people.

Kobe Bryant did it, but the bitch tried to get his money by falsely accusing him of rape. Magic Johnson did it, and ended up with HIV. Hugh Grant cheated on Elizabeth Hurley (what a fucking MORON) with an UGLY prostitute, which is even worse. Eric Benet cheated on Halle Berry, and she won a fucking Oscar. Bill Clinton did it (ok, he made some bad decisions though, he could have at least picked a fucking hot broad). Larry Craig did it too, in the fucking men’s bathroom even. And I personally know plenty of “regular” men and women who have cheated on their spouses or significant others. It is more common than we all admit.

Who knows why the guy did it, but who fucking cares really? Maybe his wife hasn’t given him any in years, or maybe when she does let him fuck her all she does is lay there and pant? Who fucking cares, just because he is a politician, that does not mean he is not human.

No, I am not condoning this behavior, because I have been cheated on myself. What I am saying, is quit opening the 5 o’clock news with this story, and quit plastering it on the front page of my newspaper; I would much rather hear about what we are doing to get our men and women out of Iraq as quickly and as safely as possible.

Looking at this picture though, I can definitely say without a doubt, that I would have tried to fuck her too if I had a cock and needed it that bad.


Tell me she doesn’t look tasty.

Yeah, I didn’t think you could,


This whole job search thing officially SUCKS ASS. It seems like the more effort I put into it, the less return I get back. If I wasn’t pregnant right now, I would run out and go get the lowest paying job I could possibly find, maybe working at Wal-Mart or some bullshit like that. Ok, no, I would never work at Wal-Mart, but I think my point was definitely made.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that I can spend my time with my daughter, helping her with homework, and riding her bike, and just being a little, nearly 6 year old, pain in my neck; but I would much rather like to be able to work at least a half day, and have the ability to save money up to take her on vacation or to Disneyland, or some crap like that.

So, that being said, if anyone out there has any ideas they can offer up, I am happy to listen to them. Of course, it would be much more assuring if my Hot Boyfriend would step up and put some effort into making some REAL money, instead of half-assing the job he does have, and not even working 30 fucking hours a week – but then again, that would be responsible of him, and what on earth would make me think that an over grown child would want to do anything responsible? No, he should just keep spending more time at his friends’ house then at his job, painting a fucking mural FOR FREE, right? Because painting that fucking mural is REALLY going to help us save money to find a house to live in. Oh wait, but then again, he apparently thinks MY tax return should just do that for US. Yeah, ok, in what fucking world does he live in, because I love in the REAL WORLD (and not the reality show on MTV) and in the real world, two people who want to share a home, SHARE THE COST, not just the pregnant girlfriend.

That though, is a whole different rant.

I’m not quitting my search, although I have officially lowered my own pay scale by about $3/hr, which may not seem like a lot to some people, but in my life, those $3 an hour can make a BIG difference in my ability to support my daughter, and the baby I am growing inside me. Speaking of the baby, the kid has been kicking the crap out of my lower abdomen for the past few days; it is really the most awesome feeling, and I had almost totally forgotten how it felt. It makes all the stress and anxiety seem like they are actually worth something.

I guess I do have some good things to keep me happy, but I am still working hard at keeping the positive stuff in my sight, and it gets harder every day, especially when certain people won’t grow up and fulfill their part of the bargain like they said they would. For now, my daughter and the little fetus are the only good things in my life, and I will continue to do my best to make everything as good as it can be.

Still trying to think positive,


Monday afternoon I went to my monthly doctors appointment to find out how the fetus is growing. After waiting for nearly a half an hour to get called in, I had some blood drawn for the AFP test. I was placed in the exam room, where I waited for another 45 minutes before my doctor finally came in. What cracks me up, is that I spent more time waiting in that damn room than I spent with the doctor.

She laid me back and used that little walkman thingy to listen for the heartbeat of the baby, which was not easy for her to find. I couldn’t hear it at all, but she heard it, and informed me that I have a VERY active baby, that likes to move around a lot. Each day I have been feeling little movements, so I had already kind of figured that out. She wiped the goo off my belly (which is beginning to look pregnant, but I am too self-conscious to post any pictures, sorry), and told me that I get to have my ultrasound in four more weeks.

Four more weeks until I find out if I am having a boy or a girl. I want a boy so badly, and I know of a few different people that are in agreement with me on this one. This is the hardest part for me – the waiting. Of course, I have waited this long, but now that it is so close, I just want the day to come that I can find out, and start baby shopping. I’m not even thinking about the waiting for the kid to be born, because that I can handle, I just want to know what I am having.

Waiting, it is like watching paint dry – it takes forever,