Happy Father's Day to ME.

   I am the definition of single parent. I have 100% custody of my 3 1/2 year old daughter, and have raised her ALONE since day one. I have financially supported my child, without any contribution. I have never received a diaper, a jar of formula, or any clothing. I have never been given a penny toward any cost of raising her. I pay for the rent on a two bedroom apartment, and every utility, by myself. I pay for every outing to the swimming pool, the zoo, or to the county fair. I spend one third of my income paying for her childcare while I work as much as possible to provide all of these expenses.
   I have no physical help. I wake at all hours of the night, comforting her when she is sad, mad, or afraid. I do not sleep in, and I don't take naps. I don't remember what it was like to sleep for 8 hours straight anymore. I cover every cut and scrape with a Band-aid. I read every book, and answer every question. I take my daughter to every doctor's appointment, make sure she brushes her teeth and her hair every morning. I wash all of her clothes, and clean up all of her messes. There is no such thing as a day off. I do not have the liberty of "personal time." If I want a break, I arrange a babysitter. There are people who think that I have no right to celebrate Father's Day. That this day of the year is specifically for Father's. I AM a father. I am a mother. I am a taxi driver, a cook, a maid, a nurse, and a counselor. I will celebrate any day I choose, and it's because I have earned that. All the blood, sweat and tears that I have put into this, gives me that right. You cannot take that away from me with your idiotic MEMES.
   If a father raising his child alone wants to celebrate Mother's Day, I will gladly invite him to breakfast. I am not in competition with him, and I do not feel the need to compare myself to him. I know what it's like to play both roles. It does not take away from the father's or mother's in the world when we allow a single parent to be recognized on both days. If you are upset by this, you are likely the parent who hasn't done much of anything when it comes to financially or physically supporting your child, and in that case, this is YOUR problem. Congratulations to all of the parents raising their child/children alone. Until we have a "Single Parent" day, take all the days you can, and give yourself a huge pat on the back. You are doing everything you can, and you are doing it alone.

   "It takes a village to raise a child." If you're raising a child on your own, you ARE the village. Happy FATHER'S DAY.

Facebook = Stalking tool.

I have come to the conclusion that most people use facebook to stalk other people. I cannot blame them for using the tools provided.

If I comment on someone's picture, I get notified EVERY time someone else comments on it. Annoying.

If I know 2 mutual friends, facebook notifies me when they write on eachother's wall. Why is that my business?

When my friends add new friends, it lets me know. WHY? I don't need to know every time my friends take a poop. Next they will have a POOPING button you can push when you are about to drop a load. A large picture of a turd will float next to your picture until you click UNPOOP.

I erased over 300 people recently. These are people that I do not talk to. EVER. I may have never even talked to them once since becoming facebook friends. Within 2 weeks, these creeps somehow realised they were erased and requested me again. WTF?
First of all, how did you even notice that I was missing from your friends list? How often do you creep around looking at my page without saying anything? It only took some of them a matter of DAYS to figure it out. EEK.

Facebook needs to have a stalker warning app. Something that lets you know if someone is frequently looking at your page and saying nothing.

Is anyone else extremely annoyed that you cannot UNTAG yourself in those emails that people send to 300 people at once? Or untag yourself in a feed? I would like to untag myself from facebook at times.

But... If I did that, I wouldn't be able to stalk people. ;)

Inside Jokes Made Public

04/05/11

Kristin: what's that thing where u think ur sick but ur not?

Amanda: hypochondria

Kristin: yup I have that. But with spiders

...Hahahah

It DEPENDS.

Let me just start by saying that I feel absolutely guilty, and apologise in advance for the things I am about to say. I need a release though, and I swear to GOD I will combust internally without one.

Where do I start? I am pregnant. 13 weeks to be exact, and if you have read my previous blogs you will understand when I say that the father is a PENIS... "Dick" is nothing but a sperm donor. End of story.

Next, I moved back in with my mother. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Free rent, a personal chef... NOT EVEN. I would rather pay 1,000 a month rent than live here. This house is far too crowded as it is. I have absolutely NO personal space what-so-ever. My 90 year old grandpa lives here, and THAT is the real subject of this blog. You are about to find out why I feel bad about writing this. You are about to think I am the spawn of Satan, and honestly, I don't give a shit.

Grandpa is an asshole. An annoying, miserable, asshole. I cannot stand to be around him, not even for a minute. Even the way he breathes... Loud, raspy groaning type breaths. Is that really necessary? He is starved for attention, and will get it any way he can at this point. It takes all the self control I have to keep my mouth shut. As we speak, he is downstairs moaning and groaning, and banging on the wall like a 2 year old, and over and over in my mind I scream "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" but it doesn't come out...

He walks... He goes for walks every single day outside. Not because he wants to, but because my mother yells at him until he does. I know he is capable of walking 3 feet from the couch to the kitchen. He is capable of making himself a sandwich with the bread, peanut butter, jelly, plate, and knife that have been laid out there for him. He somehow feels like everything should be done for him. EVERYTHING. Not my fucking job grandpa. I didn't sign up to be a caretaker. I am downstairs making myself a bowl of soup when he walks into the kitchen. "I see you didn't bother making me a lunch." I understand he is OLD as fuck. I also understand that he is probably miserable, because at this point his quality of life must suck SEVERELY. But, I wouldn't allow anyone to talk to me that way, especially not someone I don't care for. Once again I find myself screaming in my head. "Make your own fucking lunch you ungrateful prick!" I walk away in silence, ignoring him. It's my new favorite thing to do. As soon as I get back upstairs I can hear him call mom on the phone. "Kristin didn't make me a lunch." My only sense of relief was when I heard her say "It's not Kristin's job to make your lunch dad. You have 2 hands, quit acting entitled." WOOOO. One point MOM.

Grandpa's old ears don't work worth a shit. He's practically deaf, and at 90 years old, he still has too much PRIDE to wear his hearing aids. "I don't have a hearing problem." Actually, he DOES, and it's not just HIS hearing problem, it's everyone Else's problem too. He asks a question. I answer it. He asks it again. I YELL it. Sometimes I have to yell it 2 or 3 times before he hears the answer to his question that was most likely fucking stupid to begin with. Do you understand how stressful it is to have to scream over and over and over again to have a conversation that you don't even want to have, with a person who you can't stand to be around? Put in your fucking hearing aids grandpa. Instead of yelling at him, I have started talking under my breath, and saying all the things I want to tell him. (quietly) "Thank you for throwing your adult diaper away in the kitchen trash can, that was really special to wake up to. I love throwing up at 7 a.m." Of course he yells "what?!" to which I respond something more along the lines of "Have a good day today. :)"

I am probably going to lose my mind completely before I can find somewhere else to move. Maybe if I lost my mind, I would get along better with grandpa. We could sit around and have mindless conversation, screaming back and forth at each other while I catered to his every need. BUT,that is what my mother does on a daily basis. I will need to figure something else out.

Sick and surrounded by Stupid

I have been laying in bed all day long sicker than a dog. I have the worst headache, and insane amounts of congestion. I'm getting used to our new cable t.v. I never realised how spoiled we were when we had directv. I can't pause anything, record anything, and I am forced to watch commercials for the first time in over a year. I forgot how absolutely ridiculous some of them can be.

Infomercials are the worst. Some of the things they try to sell you are so beyond stupid it really makes me wonder what kind of idiots are racing to the phone to order these things.

Example 1: The SMORE maker. It's a plastic box that you put a marshmallow and a piece of chocolate in between a couple gram crackers, microwave it for a minute, then pull it out of the microwave and then push down on the top of it to mush your smore together. WHY IN THE HELL would any right minded person pay 20 dollars for this device? The only thing it does FOR YOU is push the top cracker down. Why would you not understand that it would work the same way if you pushed it down yourself. One finger and barely any pressure at all and you can mush your own smore. Morons...

Example 2: Sit down abs. The commercial claims that you can "sit on your butt and tone your abs"... It's a inflatable disk looking thing that basically puts you off balance while you are sitting on it, so you are moving around trying to stay upright, and supposedly toning your abs while doing it. They show people using it at the office, at home on the couch, and at one point even someone driving with this thing under their ass. How can that possibly be safe? Trying to drive around town with some off balance balloon under your ass... Idiots. Let's bring up another important point. The ONLY people who are going to be interested in toning their abs by sitting on their butt are fat people. What the infomercial doesn't tell you is that if you are fat, this off balance balloon isn't going to do anything for you. What is the point of toning the muscle underneath your huge muffin top/fupa? Let me answer that for you, there is no point. You will still be fat. You must do cardio AKA get off your ass.

Has anyone bought anything off an infomercial that was actually useful and worth the money? I find it hard to believe that something like that actually exists...

Playing pretend with Austyn

I go to school with a crazy red-headed virgin named Austyn. I will give her a small amount of credit by saying that she is definitely the coolest virgin I have ever met, wait, let’s be honest, she is the ONLY virgin I know. How she has made it to 20 years old without making a huge mistake with some football player named Jake is beyond me. Kudos Austyn. Gold star for you.

We are partnering on a school project right now. A project that is taking FOREVER in my opinion. We have to create a SALON from the ground up. We are graded on like 10 things, and so far my partner Austyn is proving that she would be a wonderful interior designer, but really stinks at sticking to the “plan”. We have yet to do ANYTHING that we will really be graded on, other than naming the salon and coming up with a pretend address. Today, she is once again focusing on the FURNITURE, WALLPAPER, WOOD FLOORING, and everything else nonsensical that won’t be graded. So finally, she is showing me pictures of these things, and I stop her to say:

“Let’s try focusing on some of the things on the list that we will be graded on.”

to which she replies,

“I NEED YOU TO APPROVE THESE IDEAS and make sure you like them!”

I get a really serious look on my face and say,

“Austyn, if I do not like the decor of our pretend salon, I will wait until you go on pretend vacation, and pretend remodel it.”

Problem solved. I can’t blame her for being an overachiever… In fact, in some weird way I look up to her, because she has yet to soil her youth and her future with alcohol, trashy men, and countless failed projects. I will try to be more patient, and I will even look kindly at her wallpaper swatches and exude a few “oooooh’s and ahhhhhhhh’s”.

Back to work… If we don’t get 100% on this, I will be seriously surprised.

I'm moving DICK...

A lot has happened since I posted last. It has been almost one year exactly and during that time:
-I had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
-I lived in an apartment free of bugs.
-I have figured out how to avoid my mother's accusations.
-I haven't been harassed as often by the crazy crew.
-I AM ALMOST DONE WITH SCHOOL! Thank you sweet, sweet baby Jesus.

Right now, I am in the process of moving from one apartment to another, where I will be living with my 24 year old brother Brent. NEVER in my life did I think that we would get along, much less choose to live together in almost harmony. How the two of us have even made it to our ripe middle twenties without killing eachother is beyond me. Instead of packing boxes, I decided to blog. I have about 100 different things on my mind, and being alone in this apartment is driving me insane.

My ex is in one of his "save me" modes right now, calling over and over demanding that I pick him up from the most recent drug house he has decided to run off to. Let's rewind. I started dating a guy, (we will call him DICK for the sake of not slandering him too much), in August of 2010. Dick is a drug addict of the worst kind. He likes METH. The first two months we were together, he was clean, long story short, he has been off and on, mainly ON for the remainder of this time. I have kicked him out, taken him back, been angry, been sad... It has been an emotional and destructive rollercoaster for the past 6 months. Ok, so he is calling today. Giving me ultimatems "If you don't come get me, I will slam meth." Sounds pathetic right? Who would fall for that line? In the past, I DID, which is probably why he continues to use it. This time, I am not falling for it. He will use meth, with or without my help. I am not the deciding factor on whether or not he feels like poisoning his body and losing his mind today. It has taken me this long to realize it, but better late than never right?

I am not sure how many of you have had to deal with drug addicts, but it's a miserable time to say the least. They are completely irratic, more often than not they are manipulating and using you and everyone else in their life, and they seem to be angry 90% of the time. Dick is selfish, and the whole world revolves around him and what he wants at the time. He obsesses over things like a small child and if you don't give him his way, he throws tantrums like one too. He refuses to take responsibility for anything, and when faced with a situation where an apology is owed, he would rather eat a steaming pile of horse shit than say "I'm sorry." So, I have somehow been trained to think that the problems are my fault. Not anymore buddy. Reality has finally set in. It's your fault, and no longer my problem.

I am so greatful that my brother is here to smack some sense into me. The last time Dick came begging for a place to stay and someone to help him get sober and check him into rehab, my brother gave him his OWN ultimatem. "This is your last chance. If you use drugs again you aren't allowed back. I don't care what my sister says, it won't be up to her anymore." It's because of that ultimatem that Dick won't be coming back here today. I no longer have the option to make that decision, and it's helpful because I cannot blame MYSELF for not helping him. I can't blame my brother either, because he told him it was his last chance, and he didn't seem to care. So, I guess the blame only has one place to settle. Where it should have been the entire time. On DICK.

It's time to pack up the kitchen now... I have ONE newspaper, and I am not sure how many dishes you can wrap with that. How ghetto is it to wrap your dishes in clothing? I have a lot of those. :)

Chicken of the Sea

Can someone please explain to me why men are such pigs? It might not be all men who are infected with the pig virus, maybe it's just the men who I involve myself with. I seem to have a magnet on my forehead that draws in swine. Men who roll around in the mud... Dirty little piglets with no respect for themselves and others.

I cannot stand men who lie. They think they are doing you a favor or something, telling you everything you want to hear. All I hear is "oink oink oink". I have gotten to the point where I don't believe anything that comes out of any man's mouth. I have cracked their pig code.

"You're beautiful." really means "I want to sleep with you."

"We are dating." means "I want to sleep with you until I find someone else."

When referring to their ex's "She's crazy" REALLY means "I have a tendency to lie, cheat and generally treat my girlfriends like crap, and do not want to take responsibility for the emotionally trauma I caused her."

It's funny when you catch a pig in a lie. Instead of owning up to their actions, they blame shift their slop right into your trough. "You invaded my privacy! You should not have been looking in my phone!" I am sorry to be the bearer of bad knews but if you were not out Oinking and Boinking everything on the farm, there would have been nothing to find in your phone WILBER. Call them on the lie, and suddenly you're a big fat cow. (Time to come up with new insults boys, we can't all be overweight and ugly now can we?)

They act like you got mad cow disease out of thin air, when in all actuality, you were infected with it the moment your instincts told you that you had landed a PIG. The very second that you knew something was wrong, you started asking more questions. Those questions made you seem untrusting, overbearing, placed you into stalker status. All the sudden when little piggy went to the market, you knew otherwise. You knew deep down that when mister pig left to have a "boy's night" that he would be hoof deep in Miss Piggy's ham. Try denying this to yourself, and your mad cow disease quickly turns into you being an insane heffer.

Nobody is "crazy" for no reason but, who wants to own up to being a liar, a cheater, and a pig?

I move on quickly, and this has given me a reputation for using men, or being indecisive... The truth is quite the opposite. I know exactly what I want, and as soon as I see the signs of pig, the porking is over. I send them crying wee wee wee all the way home.

Ladies... Once a pig, always a pig and I truly believe that. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Let's go swimming and quit hanging out in the mud. ;) Don't hold onto your swine in fear that you will end up alone... Send him to the butcher and eat high on the hog while you have dinner dates every weekend with new and exciting men.

I may be 25 years old, but I look 18.

Why does it seem like everything in my life comes in massive doses? I have heard the phrase "Bad things come in 3's." but, holy shit, they come in 10's or 20's for me. Somewhere along the way I pissed off the big man, and I am pretty sure at this point I am his personal punching bag. Ok, ok, I am being dramatic. God isn't punching me in any way... But maybe he should. Punch me hard enough to knock some sense into me, or beat me onto the right path.

I become single, which in hindsight was probably a blessing in disguise. Add in the fact that I was living with the ex, and had to move back in with mom, and things start looking a little less like a blessing after all. Mom likes to blame me for everything... Things that have nothing to do with me at all... She places the blame on me when it couldn't have possibly been my fault. I could be out of state, and somehow "YOU DID IT." Yes mom, you are right, I pretended to leave town so I could break into your house and steal all of your: Missing pillows, and cameras, and velvet shirts from 1986. It's exciting. It's what I do for fun. I am living a soap opera, without the paychecks.

Speaking of being paid... I haven't been receiving my financial aid checks for some reason. 500 hours was when the last one was due... I am almost to 600 now. The school has no explanation for this, and since the money isn't burdening them at this point they don't seem to care about checking up on it. Asking my mom for gas money is fun, to say the least. I opened some mail today and found an ass load of bills that I am unable to pay. I am about 20,000 in debt, and that's not counting my student loans, which add up to 18,000. 25 years old and 40,000 in debt. How is that even possible? I'll tell you how... Acting like a dumb ass when you are 18 years old and racking up credit card debt buying stupid CRAP that you didn't need. So, all of this has been weighing on me and I finally snap.

I start ranting and raving like a serious lunatic in the kitchen, where my mother and grandfather are trying to make dinner.

"There is no possible way I will ever be able to pay this off! I am going to school to be a hair stylist, and unless Oprah wants me to style her weave, I will never make the money to survive, much less pay off all these bills!"

Mom, and grandpa are laughing, because apparently they do not think I am being serious... They don't even stop what they are doing to look at me. This shows how disfunctional this house really is. Someone is acting like a mentally unstable maniac and you don't even look up from breading the shrimp to see what's going on. So what do I do? SHOCK VALUE THE SHIT OUT OF THEM.

"I am going to have to move to Nevada and work on the Bunny Ranch as a prostitute. I will fuck dirty old truckers for 1,000 a pop until my debt is payed off. I will see you two in a year. If I don't come back, it's because I had to develop a severe drug addiction to numb the internal pain of selling my body to pay off all the shoes and McDonalds purchases I made when I was 18, OR because I contracted aids and went to overdose on meth in the desert rather than face you again!"

Grandpa starts laughing so hard he chokes on a cheeto, and then manages to say "When I was in NAM, 25 was OLD for a prostitute."

WOW, really grandpa?! I don't even stand a chance to fuck old dirty truckers for money now, because I am too old?! Cool, really cool. I guess I should thank him though, because he helped me to come up with my prostitution slogan. "I may be 25 years old but I look 18."

I am sure that you are concerned at this point. Unsure whether or not I am being serious about selling my body for money, to lonely truck drivers in the middle of nowhere. I will take this time to reassure you that I am not intending on doing that. After all, I am smart enough to know that if I worked at the Bunny Ranch, the madam would end up taking 70% of the money, and I would end up having to sell my body for 10 years to pay off 40,000.

Long story short, I am fucked... Without being fucked by old men. I will not make this worse on myself.

Is anyone in need of a 40 dollar haircut? I only need to do 1,000 of them to make this all go away... :)

Piece of shit Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who had one. I had a piece of shit Thanksgiving.

I can see my dad reading this right now and saying "Boo Hoo, everyone isn't out to get you. Everything isn't about you." Guess what dad, sometimes it is about me. Like when you turn a day that is supposed to be about family and being thankful into a day where you tear me down and make me feel worthless. Next time you think about telling me how UNthankful you are to have me as a child, do it the way other unthankful parents do it, and just don't invite me over.

Everything starts off as a joke at my dad's house. My dad and I talk about serious issues using humor, and apparently my step-mom has no sense of humor, because she can take a joke and turn it into an attack in 3.5 seconds. Somehow joking around about the oh so talented "Manning" family turned into an argument about what a piece of shit I am.

"When I was your age, I was married, owned a house and had kids." Congratulations, that seemed to work out wonderfully for you didn't it? "Three of our 4 kids have been married and divorced by the age of 24." Did you ever stop to think that MAYBE your shitty ass first marriages had something to do with that?

Ah, fuck it, and fuck you. I don't even want to continue with this. I don't want to play the blame game. It's a waste of my time.

To answer your text I just received dad, "Are you having a GREAT day at school?". The answer is NO. I am not having a great day at school. I didn't go to school today. BECAUSE I AM A LOSER, and I am too busy feeling sorry for myself and I don't need to hear it from you. I am intelligent enough to know what I am doing, I just don't give a shit.