Who: Ross and Mark
What: 26th and 24th birfdays (respectively)
When: Friday Dec. 8 at 8ish
Where: my house (if you know me in meatspace, you know where that is, otherwise, too bad.)
Food will be provided. You have to bring beer. Ross’s only birthday wish is that he get to drink beer that the Catrow family didn’t have to pay for in any way, shape, or form. So, you better bring it because all we have to drink is Diet Ginger Ale.
Here is me talking to Dave about where to put the tattoo:
More discussion:
Let’s get it started, HA!:
Ay chihuahua:
Ta-dah! Hott.
That’s right. I got my tattoo last night. Love it or hate it, friends, it’s there and it’s beautiful. I don’t have a picture yet but Ross will upload one to www.haduken.com later today, so be sure to check it out there.
All in all, it wasn’t too bad getting it. The thing that made the most nervous was just sitting there, waiting to see what it was going to feel like. Once I felt it, I was like, “Ok, I can deal with this.” Some of the pictures seriously look like I’m in labor because I just took deep breaths the whole time. But there was no crying, no squealing, no yelling, so that’s good. The best way I can describe it is getting a bunch of bee stings over and over again for about an hour. I mean, the feeling sucks but you know that it’s nothing you can’t handle.
So there, I did it. I feel brave and beautiful and mom was just plain giddy about it when I told her. Ross was awesome. He held my hand the whole time and told me how good it was looking. And, this is the best part: My darling brother-in-law (who, with my sister, orchestrated this whole thing) told me stories about pirates to get my mind off of the pain AND had already gotten me the necessary unscented soap to keep my new artwork clean. What a guy.
…one of those people that always has it together.
…as smart as I would like to be.
…rude to someone I don’t know.
…good at sports.
…the first person that someone over the age of ten thinks of when they need an answer to a question.
…good at schmoozing.
…so drunk that I throw up.
…impressed by people who spend all of their money on expensive clothes.
…a person who lives a big life.
…a good cook.
…the girl who everyone in the room looks at and thinks is beautiful.
…an owner of an SUV.
…perfect.
Ross and I celebrate Thanksgiving with my mom’s side of the family the following Saturday, meaning today. So, we went over to my brother’s house for the festivities. Good times were had. We found out that my cousin and her husband are having another baby in May which is awesome. I knit a hat (complete with a decorative flower) for their current baby, Sidney. After some alterations I made it fit. I might have to knit a strap so she’ll actually keep it on though. It didn’t matter because she is so insanely cute. She’s obsessed with my brother’s cats and said “Hi Kit-Kat” all evening. CUTENESS. We also got to see the 8943798798 pictures from my sister’s wedding. My bossoms and/or chin look big in all of them. My cousin said that every time she looked at a picture of me in my bridesmaides dress, the only word that came to mind was “mammary.” Thanks, Jen.
All in all, it was a good night. We came home to some po-po action on our block. Nothing came of it, but I will admit that I crouched at our front door, peaking out the window. Don’t worry, Shooter was doing the same thing.
Oh, and I’ve been summoned for jury duty in December. Awesome.
My responding comments to J in Ric’s most recent post (check my blog roll) got me thinking about something. Often when people are going through tough times, we make a promise to pray for them. This is typically the first thing I say (and the first thing I want to hear) when a rough situation comes up. When I say it, I mean it, and I hope other people do.
Keeping this in mind, to those of you who make this offer, I want to encourage you to actually follow through with it. To me, it’s one of the worst promises to break. Obviously, there’s really no way to know for sure that someone is praying for you, and I would never go up to someone and say, “I can’t believe you didn’t pray for me.” However, when someone says they are going to pray for me, I take it very seriously. To me, they are saying that they are going to use some of their one-on-one time with God (of which we sadly take so little) to speak about me and to ask for healing in my life. That’s a powerful thing.
I’ll be praying for all you, Internet and Meat Space friends alike. I pray that you be safe this holiday. I pray that you enjoy the people you spend it with. I pray that you get well-deserved rest and that you eat and laugh until your bellies hurt.
Happy Thanksgiving, Friends. God Bless.
So I finally finished the hat! It’s wonky and bumpy and it’s going to be too small for the head I intended it for, but atleast I know how to do it now. I have it sitting on my desk now, acting like a hat for my speaker. I’m proud of myself.
My sister and her new husband gave me my birthday present tonight: a gift certificate to get my Made in Richmond tattoo! Now I’m actually going to have to put their money where my mouth is. No,but seriously, I’m super stoked but also super scared. I’ll be sure to post a picture once I get the guts to actually have it done.
At one point today, I actually curled up in a ball on the floor of my classroom in front of my children. Here was the conversation that lead to it:
Me: Now, guys, when you do this worksheet on the story, make sure you put the page numbers next to your answer so I can see that you used your book.
Student A: Why do we need to put page numbers?
Me: So I can see that you used your book.
Student B: Do we need our book to do this worksheet?
Me: Yes. Otherwise you won’t get the answers right.
Student C: Do we need to put the page numbers next to the answers?
Me: (collapses to the floor)
On top of that, I had oatmeal for lunch for the third day in a row. As we are poor, I’m trying to eat all of the food I have stored in my desk during my lunches, rather than buying anything. At all. Like even groceries. Oatmeal for lunch makes me grumpy. And constipated. There, I said it.
I miss my Maura, too. I haven’t seen her in weeks. She went to California and I didn’t even know it.
I don’t want James and Jennifer to move to Scotland. I fully support their call to ministry and pray that they be successful. That doesn’t mean that I have to like them being gone.
I can’t figure out my hair. It’s like I forgot what it’s like to have short hair. I think I just look like a boy. With big boobs that make my back hurt.
I have a conference this afternoon with a great parent, but she loves to talk. After that, I go pick up the hubs, and we have to go to the grocery store which I hate to do after work. Then I get to go to class and see the guy who asked me out on a date last class. At least I have my knitting to do.
Also, I’m getting really sick of seeing people in stores and the like who seem to have no idea how children/babies work. Why do these people get to have babies? I know how babies work, yet I have none.
Whine, whine, whine.
It’s only Tuesday and I already feel like I’m about to collapse. I went home last Thursday because I got sick at school and I haven’t felt great since then. This weekend was rough because of family issues. I have a meeting every morning this week, requiring me to get my butt out of the house, scramble to get myself situated in the classroom, and then head off to 45 minutes of county-mandated (read: irrelevant) meetings. I’m trying some new things in my reading class which are turning out to be really fun for the kids AND me, but planning them is like reinventing the wheel and significantly more time-consuming. I double-booked conferences this afternoon cause I’m awesome and felt really bad. Luckily the parents were great about it, but I still felt bad about it. Money is also going to be tight soon so I’m thinking I might need to start tutoring or babysitting pretty regularly to give us some breathing room budget-wise. I know none of these things is by any means a big deal, but I find it hard to be happy or positive when I have so many things pulling at me. I need to go lie down because my stomach is acting up again. This will make it much easier for the truck that is this week to run me over again.
