Holy smokes.

Nothing you put out here ever really goes away, does it?

I'm still here.

Sadie is almost three.

I'm married; celebrated my first anniversary this month.

Working for the local community college, planning to establish a real career one day, swear.

And now it is time for bed.

Also: HI, HI, HI! To the few people who inspired me to start this funky blog in the first place. Word.

I know, I know

Horrible. I'm absolutely horrible at blogging. I'm a diarist, not a blogger. There's a difference, party people.

I bet nobody even haunts this corner anymore! I've lost all my internet cronies, g-dammit. Helllllo? Anybody out there?

Of course, I am totally a mother now. I had my baby on Dec. 10, which means she's 12 weeks old now. Nothing I can type in the square can express to the world how much I love the little frog. She and her daddy complete my world. I got mad love for her, yo, MAD love. I'm going to go ahead and post a picture of her. Don't go stealing it! She's cute, I know, but she's mine all mine. Without further ado, meet Miss Sadie. Ain't she cute?

Neglectful

Sometimes I forget this corner is even here. I write somewhere else, you know. Same spot I've frequented for the last 5.5 years. If you're interested, I'll give you the link. Drop me a comment, yo.

Update: I'm officially in my ninth month of pregnancy. Three more weeks to go. I've gained 35 pounds. I cannot sleep well anymore. My appetite is waning. Sex is a joke.

But I've never been happier in all my days. Soon, I'll be looking at the face we made. I can hardly wait.

I miss some of you people and think of you often. I hope you are doing well.

blah.

I'm totally over this. Tired. Achy. Fat. Headache. Host to a very kick-, punch-happy human. Have two more months and want to cry at the very thought of getting any more stretched out than this.

To all you bitches that say you never felt better during pregnancy, I say fuck you! Fuck you very much.

The good news is I have the most patient babydaddy on the planet. And ice cream. Word.

85

It's after midnight and I'm wrapping up this M Shift. Can barely keep my lids from falling despite the fact that I don't go to bed until well after 1 a.m. on most nights. Something about being stuck in this cubicle makes me sleeeeepy and a little nauseous. I'm not sure how M does this night after night after night, manages to squeeze in some Fred's time and then gets her ass up to deal with the girls. Kudos to her for working it all into a day.

Me? I'm a lazy MF-er who'd much rather sleep my life away.

Had to record Lost ... can't wait to get home and watch. Once I get to my pad I'll be wide awake again, I'm sure.

We're thinking about opening a joint account for bill-paying purposes. Convenience and timeliness. And forever-ness. We're parents now. Well, almost. We're in this together now. May as well set some financial guidelines and play like adults. Phew.

I love that man more'n muh luggage, I-tell-you-what. He's my cotton candy.

Speaking of cotton candy, the fair with all its greasy goods will be in full swing this time next week. I'll be the one in line for soft tacos. And fried zucchini. And a corn dog, jumbo version.

Eighty-five days, party people. Eighty-five short days.

Number Three

So. Here I am, entering my third trimester of pregnancy. I don't like it. I feel all stretched out and I can't imagine having the ability to house an even bigger infant over the next three months. OUCH! is all I can say.

I'm ready to meet my baby. My kicking, punching, squirming, sommersault-turning baby.

Today, people from work brought me little pink shoes and a bassinette. How sweet are they? I love most of my coworkers. I do.

I ate Mexican food for lunch. It was almost perfect. Only thing missing was the Pacifico beer.

Sometimes, I wish there was a place for me to leave comments. I have so many.

How would you like it if I poked your belly? Step off.

I'm tired of this square now. It happens a lot lately.

Absent.

I'm only filling space. Nothing of any substance up in here.

I miss hangin' out online sometimes. Only sometimes.

Once, I was carefree and lively and social, just like a butterfly.

Now, I avoid social settings. I worry about the world and how my child will fit in with the crazies. I'm so different.

I don't know if I like worrying, parenting, having to be responsible for someone besides me ... I don't know if I like sharing my life.

And watch me flip.

I've never been more content, satisfied, happy. I love sharing my world with him and I cannot wait to share with my daughter. Wow. Did you read that? Let me type it again: My daughter.