The author of this blog is the queen of Awesomeness (Yeah thats a word, shut it)

So onto the lighter side of my weekend. My husband and I decided that this year for the most part we were going to do that thing where we just go shopping for our own stuff and call it Christmas presents. I went Saturday and scored a super fantabulous belt that is reversible in two shades of brown which now means I have a belt that matches 98% of my shoes. HELL YA FOR ME. I also got two super cute T-shirts to go over all of the random color thermals I have collected lately. I got a bunch of other shit but the best part was my new fantastic awesome jeans. You know the only problem with perfect wonderful awesome jeans? I want more delightful wonderful perfect fitting jeans. Now I'm stuck with only one perfect pair of jeans. These pants make my legs look thin, my ass look small and me look fantasmick.

Wow how many more horrible made up adjectives can I put in one blog? This has been a spell check nightmare.

I briefly considered taking a picture of myself but I didn't want to be all hey look at me in my fabulous jeans that you sooooo don't have. HA HA suckers. If i did post a picture I would title it "LOOK AT ME IN ALL MY AWESOMENESS! ! ! !"

I just want a bagel thats all is that asking to much? Apparantly

Have I told you yet how I came to be gluten free? Probably like 7,000 times but I'm not so good at the remembering what I've already blogged about so I'll tell you again.
Years ago when I was maybe 13ish I started getting this ridiculously horrible cramping that felt like, hey if I puke this will feel better (what kind of genius thinks this kind of shit). Only it never did. A few days would go by and the pain would go away. I finally went to see my doctor who took my blood pressure and informed me that I had an ulcer. He gave me ulcer pills told me to drink tons of milk and called it a day. Only problem was those made it hurt worse. I went back and he declared that whoever had told me to take those pills was an idiot. I reminded him that a month earlier he had in fact told me to take the pills. He looked in my chart and mumbled something and declared I was lactose intolerant and to quit all dairy. I nearly pissed myself because I am a vegetarian so besides veggies, milk, cheese and ice cream were all I had. I didn't know what I would do with myself. About two weeks into that the pain came again. This time I went to my OB. He declared I had endometrosis and loaded me up with Vicodin (Oh so thats how the addiction started). He also did blood work and informed me I had very very low chances of ever having an ulcer. He did a surgery and said that I had stage four endometriosis. Lovely. That seemed to help for a while but the pain always came back. Three surgeries later I was endometriosis free (for now) and pregnant. OOOOOHHHH OUCH OOOOHHH SHIT. That is what I spent a lot of time saying during my pregnancy. I took myself to ER three times and was informed all three that I was suffering from gas and an ulcer. One visit I was even accused of taking Castor oil. Great, wonderful, fuck you very much. Another time they accused me of going to ER to get more ultrasounds just so I could see what the baby looked like. WOW got to love our medical care huh. I had the kid and pain was still there. Take myself to ER and get told I have an ulcer. At this point I lose it and morph into some complete nutso and use some unfriendly words at the doctor along the lines YOU BETTER FIGURE THIS OUT FUCKER I'M NOT LEAVING HERE AGAIN WITH! NOTHING! WRONG! He tells me he will do a courtesy ultrasound and its probably just some cysts rupturing. NOPE I have gallstones. Yeah thats right. This jack ass doctor was going to let me leave with some fucking ulcer pills which are hell on a gallbladder. When I went in for surgery for my gallbladder I was informed that it had been sick for a long time and it was so great I had it out because it had pushed itself up against another organ to prevent from bursting. PAIN STILL THERE. But don't worry I had plenty of ulcer pills. Finally I think to myself. You know maybe I can't eat wheat (no clue where the fuck this thought came from) and holy shit did it work. Only problem. FUCK! is it hard to give up bagels and bread and cake and cookies and brownies and so on.

Which brings me to the actual reason for this post. I want a bagel. I want a bagel from a bagel shop so bad. The kind that is just dripping with that cream cheese that only bagel places have. AND I CAN'T HAVE ONE. Yeah whatever. This leads me to the second reason for my post. It is so hard for me to eat. For lunch today I had this organic rice in a bag thing. It was okay but not good enough that I could eat the same flavor every day. This brings up the problem of me being a vegetarian. It seems like even the things that look vegetarian on the cover never are. They almost ALWAYS contain chicken broth. I got creative for a while and started making my own soups since most people make soup with damn wheat flour and I can't have that either. However even my the master chef gets a little tired of cooking each meal. I hate when I go to a restaurant and the only vegetarian items are salad and potatoes. Would some rice and vegetables and beans kill you to put on. Or when I go to Paisans and they have two soups and both have chicken in them. Wow fuckers. I was perfectly content going to lunch at Wild Oats everyday but I guess that is too healthy for my coworkers.

Oh gosh could this post be any more boring? Sure it could! Can I cuss anymore? Absolutely. So sorry to my five readers for my verbal spewage of trash.

In the end I'm left eating a whole bunch of lettuce and making homemade soup all the time and grosso oatmeal for breakfast. You see I also hate eggs which makes breakfast nearly fucking impossible especially since one of my assfuck friends had to tell me that cereal contains bugs, bug pieces and bug eggs and sometimes hatched bugs. Now I'm stuck with oatmeal and fruit for breakfast. Shit is it any wonder I'm so crabby lately?

Basically this is me complaining about everything when I'm really just mad at my carpet

Disclaimer: This post contains a lot of four letter words, and also other bad words so if you don't want to read it, well, fuck you!

So Christmas is over. I am left with a feeling that is mixed with overwhelmed and mildly disappointed. This year I asked my friends and family to please not buy my son toys. He has enough really. I should take photos, whatever, that requires me to get of the couch and that isn't going to happen. In lieu of presents I asked everyone to donate to the charity of their choice. Here is what my son has received so far.

*A sit and spin. (This is a toy it is giant, I don't know what to do with it)
*A book and a check (okay the check is fine, now I have to take it and put it in his bank but I might just put it in mine and then send it back to UC Davis children's hospital)
*A stuffed dog (I was told all proceeds from said dog went to some charity blah blah blah its still space in my house since my son won't touch a stuffed animal with a ten foot pole it will now go in the pile of stuffed animal fluff in his room)
*Snowboarding pants and a hat (Okay I totally wanted these so I'm not actually mad at my cousin for buying them because they are fucking adorable and yeah they are awesome so I'll let that one slide)
Now onto the grandparents (my parents that is)
*A $30.00 donation to Make a Wish Foundation (you would think they listened right, like they did what I said..Ha read on)
*One giant stuffed chair with Alex the Lion on it (I guess the giant stuffed dinosaur chair they already got him a few months back wasn't enough)
*A Superman TV (yes that is right, my fucking 17 month old child who I did not want to have a TV in his room so he didn't turn into a TV obsessed fuckhead like me now has a fucking bright blue and red TV in his room)
*A giant dump truck (He folds the dumper back and sits on the drive line and rides it around, yes very cute, I'll stick it next to the battery operated car and four wheeler he had and between the other dump truck and sitty ridey thing and wooden riding train)
*Another sitty ridey thing (because 6 aren't enough)
*An outfit from baby gap (very cute again I will allow this to slide because it isn't clothing*
*A remote control buzz light year car (because he already can't work the other 3 he has)
* A page made from my mom for his scrapbook (Okay this one is fine. I actually really really liked this idea because it was combining something I loved with something I really love my son having. He has a beautiful scrapbook (2) and I loved this gift)

*O and then the phantom donation my grandpa says he made but I have yet to see.

We still have to go to my husbands families house and I hope they didn't get toys because I really don't want to have to pack shit home with us.

I got home last night and my house was already covered in toys and junk and I was dragging in bags of more crap and all the sudden I just felt overwhelmed. I have been making such a huge effort to keep our house clean lately (excludes bedroom because I am not so good at the folding of laundry bit) but it seems like every time I clean it someone finds a way to mess it back up. I have started doing this minimalist thing where every weekend I clean and each time I do I try and take one thing off my counters or out of a room. My thought is that less clutter less mess RIGHT? RIGHT???? Wrong!! Seems people just think ooooo look a new space to stuff something I don't want to deal with. Twice now I've cleaned the pantry. I make it beautiful. I sort it by meals, breakfast, lunch, tea, soup cans, tomato cans, Shannon's food (gluten free grosso crap), Brandon approved food (egg and peanut free), Brandon's medicine, our medicine, pots, pans, Tupperware (even put them all away with corresponding lids on them this time so husband doesn't whine that he couldn't find a lid for his tuna fish) and so on. You get the point. It was very pretty and all organized and what not. Husband takes one look at it, says IT LOOKS GREAT, then says, WE REALLY NEED TO KEEP UP ON THAT. Then I make the mistake of going to the store and asking said husband to help me unload. His idea of unloading is to shove cans and food wherever there is a can shaped hole. Now there is Brandon food in the cereal section and chip section, soup in the breakfast section, coffee on top of the bowls, bowls in the breakfast section and I want to pull my hair out when he opens it the other day and says WE REALLY SHOULD STRAIGHTEN THIS PLACE UP. Is this one of those situations where he purposely puts it all wrong so I won't ask him to help unload anymore?

Another reason I can't wait for Christmas to be completely over is that I'm sick of fighting with Brandon about why exactly he needs to leave the ornaments on the tree and why after he pulls them off he doesn't need to pull of the hook, and why after he pulls of the hook he doesn't need to go the whole way and just pull out the whole damn top of the ornament and then hide all the pieces from me so I can't even put the damn ornament back together. I can't wait for the tree to be gone.

Did I mention my carpet is driving me nuts. The fucking fucks who owned this house before me put in cream colored fucking carpet. CREAM!!!!!! Now I have to live with little black stains everywhere because SIPPY CUPS LEAK PEOPLE and little boys pee when you take their diaper off, and red cookie icing does stain, so does pink baby vomit, and strawberry milk, and apparently even water. I was supposed to get pergo as a Christmas present (pergo not real wood because we are only staying here for the next year while we build our dream house which will not have cream colored fucking carpet). I did not get my pergo because of reasons involving arguments with mom and husband and so on oh ya and the place my mom just swore would give me a good deal quoted me freaking $6,800.00!!!!!! You giant assfuck. I'm still considering getting a bid from Home Depot but in the mean time I will look at THE CARPET IN MY DINING ROOM (thats right the idiots carpeted the fucking dining room) and cry. O yeah side note the geniuses also carpeted the goddamn maser bathroom.

Basically I'm just in a feeling of eww. I want the nasty carpet gone which I actually think will make everything look so much cleaner, because I hate scrubbing my house and vacuuming just to look down and see nasty carpet. It feels like I never cleaned. I just want the dirty gone. I know the carpet is the first step but I can't justify spending that much money on something that isn't real. To me its like saying hey, Pay $1,000.00 for this Tiffany knock off okay and don't feel weird about it either okay. Oh and I know I know carpet shampooing right, WRONG. They came and shampooed and informed me that the stains would be back in three weeks, and they didn't, they came back in two.

Oh well maybe I'll feel better after the new year. Probably not though, because I will still have this carpet.

Oh and look. I just learned that I can change fonts and colors in my post

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