5.6.17

I saw two armadillos chasing each other tonight and a woman getting arrested on the side of the road. Not at the same time, but I’ve never seen either of those events happen, let alone in the same night. 

4.25.17

I called my grandparents last night to see if they knew anyone with a farm for Pete. My grandfather called me around 1pm today and said he has a friend with about 100 hens for him. He came and got him 10 minutes later. This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. When I picked him up to say goodbye, he laid his head on my shoulder. Jimmy Tallon and Chickira don’t even notice he’s gone…yet. If they ever will. Ugh. I fucking hate this.

Anyway, tomorrow is my future sister-in-law’s birthday so I made up a field day with games. I filled over 100 water balloons, got a bat to spin around, got a basket to catch the water balloons, etc. I cleaned the yard today and got over heated. I have a headache, nauseous, and I’ve had diarrhea. I don’t know if that’s from being sick or the sun. We ended up not doing the field day. We’re going to do it on Friday.

I used to have a full time job working at a veterinary practice for 3 years, but I ended up leaving to stock sunscreen for 2 days a week. I get around 20-25 hours which is less than at the vet, but I only work 2 days, so I have more time to do whatever I want which is amazing. I’ve worked full time for almost 8 years and never had any time to do anything. I know a lot of people can’t say they have that luxury, but going from having no time to hang out with anyone, to having time to do anything is amazing. My goal is to do this for the rest of my life.

4.24.17

Today I shot my BB gun for the first time after I got off work. I have better aim than I thought I would. I shot an aluminum can and a water bottle. I like the aluminum can better. I’m practicing to put Pete down.

Just kidding!! Too morbid? Actually, I’m just shooting things for the hell of it. I really don’t want to get rid of Pete, but I know it’s for the best.

4.23.17

I’m hungover, to say the least. I shouldn’t have drank last night, especially being sick, but fuck it. I didn’t hear my roosters crow this morning and when I went to go check on them, my hen was in her laying box. The roosters were eating, but being quiet and then when I knelt down to pet them, Pete bit me and drew blood. Then this evening, I went to give them fresh water and he attacked my leg then bit my hand again. I know I’m going to have to cull or give him away, but I really don’t want to. I almost choked him a minute ago when he bit me, but I didn’t. Those are my babies and I hate to give him up. I can’t have him being so aggressive though. I just feel like if anything ever got in, Jimmy wouldn’t be able to defend Chickira because he’s too docile.

Last night was weird. My girl and I were arguing and when we got home, I came inside and she sat outside for a while. Then she came in and talked to her family about it for an hour or so and I went to bed. She woke me up with food and didn’t say anything else about what happened. It was weird. Then today she acted like it never happened. I don’t think there was anything else to say, but still. Not complaining, I had a good day with her.

Anyway, I told my job I’d come in early tomorrow since I didn’t go in on Friday. I have to wake up by 5am, which sucks, but that means my day will go by fast…hopefully.

4.22.17

So, technically it’s not 4.22, it’s 4.23, but I am drunk. My fiancée and I went out with a friend and we got into an argument over exes, but honestly, that is the last thing I want to talk about right now. I’m sick as hell right now. I have a raging headache from my sinuses, not even from the beer. I can’t hear out of my left ear and I just laid down in bed at 2:45am to hear my fucking rooster start crowing. I swear I might wring his damn neck tonight. Holy shit.

Fucking chicken.

Anyway, idk. I don’t have much to say right now worth writing. I’ll write tomorrow. G’night!

4.21.17

I feel like I am not myself. My head is heavy and I am dizzy. I hate being sick. This whole week has been about not feeling well. There’s so much I’ve wanted to do. Get in the pool, work on the chicken coop some more, play board games. Anything would be better than this, really.

My fiancée and I have been watching Shameless on Netflix. It’s such a good show and all of the actors are superb. We are in season 5 right now.

I originally started this blog because I was hoping to make money from it, which doesn’t seem to be the case just yet.

I forgot to buy deodorant when I was at the store yesterday.

We currently live with my fiancée’s family and we plan to build an apartment in the backyard. Eventually were going to rent it out and buy our own house. I can’t wait to get started, but it does cost money and plus it’s getting pretty hot outside. I’m not sure how we’re going to build it in the heat and I don’t want to shell out over $20k for the labor when we can just do it ourselves. I know it sounds like some people’s worst nightmare, to live with their in-laws, but it’s great to me. We’re very family oriented. Her dad has become my biggest father figure that I’ve ever had in my life which I didn’t realize how badly I needed one until I met him.

My dad died when I was 14. My mom woke me up in the middle of the night and told me my uncle had just called and said he was in a car accident. At that point, I was thinking we could go visit him right away and I pictured him hooked up to monitors, maybe some broken ribs, but overall he would be fine. She started to cry and said he didn’t make it. I felt my blood turn to ice, my entire body just gave up on trying to sit up and I collapsed into my bed. My entire world, as I knew it, had come to a screeching halt. Gravity seemed to have tightened its grip on me and oxygen escaped the room, suffocating me. We hadn’t spoken in over a year and we were arguing. My last words to him were something to the tune of “go to hell” when he asked if I would come visit him over email. I wish I could take back every word. He didn’t deserve that. The reason I wrote the email to begin with was because of this psychiatrist I had, I think her name was Mickey. She told me to write to him everything I felt and don’t hold back, so I didn’t and now it’s my biggest regret in life. I know we would probably have gotten along great now since I’m older and not as immature as I was. He lived in Nicaragua and my family ended up having the funeral before I could get there, which I think was within 2 days. Their reasoning? They didn’t think I was coming. That was and will be the biggest disappointment in my life. I got to go to the memorial service though, which was okay, I guess. I’ll never forget how empty, cold, and alone I felt. A part of me died with him that night. There were times when I would be on my knees with a rosary or a statue of Mary begging for a sign of him. I don’t even believe in God, but I was willing to do whatever it took to be in his presence again. I would cry on the floor until my eyes were swollen and I was drooling and my nose was running everywhere. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life and it always will be.

When I was 6, I had this next door neighbor who used to be my best friend. His parents would leave their garage door open about 5″ or 6″ for the cats to run in and out. He dropped a baseball or something and it rolled out. I stuck my head under to try to reach it and my head was too big to fit. He ended up pushing the button and instead of going up, it went down. I ended up needing stitches and I remember the nurses holding me down while he stitched my head since I guess they were worried I had a concussion. I remember I used to have nightmares that I pushed my head through and the garage door came down on my neck. There’s actually still a dent in the garage door from where my head was. Anyway, I have a scar from where my hair starts right above my temple to almost the back of my head to remind me of the stupidity of my younger days. The whole point of that story is that losing my dad hurt worse than the garage door almost crushing my head.

That’s all for tonight, folks! G’night! 🙂

4.20.17

Today is the toker’s holiday and unfortunately (or fortunately) I’m not cool enough to be apart of it. I have smoked before, but it’s just not for me. I prefer a beer. I do, however, drink Sweetwater 420 sometimes. I started drinking it because of the name and then I ended up liking it. Plus, no one else likes it, so no one will touch it. I hear a lot of people smoke to get rid of anxiety, but it just makes me more anxious.

Anyway, so I really am sick, it’s not just allergies in case anyone reading was holding their breath for this post. I know, my life is just so intriguing. Haha. I woke up at 5am today and worked for 9 hours. It was cool because the day ended a lot faster, but when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t even swallow. *insert dirty joke here* I figured I’d power through because there’s worse that could happen, right? I’m not the type to call out just because I’m not feeling well. If I call out of work, it’s because I physically cannot be there. At my last job, I think I called out 3 times in the 3 years I worked there. Twice were food poisoning and once for a family emergency. I had never had food poisoning before and I got it twice within, I think, 1 or 2 years. It is absolutely awful and I don’t wish the pain on anyone. Another thing I don’t do is go to the doctor or emergency room all of the time, rarely do I go and it better be because I’m dying or I can’t stop the bleeding. Per my mom’s instruction throughout the years. I went to the E.R. like 2 years ago because I had something called G.E.R.D. which I never even knew existed. I was up in Georgia with my fiancée and we had drank the night before, so we were a little hungover. We decided to go find a Five Guys Burgers & Fries which was like 45 minutes away, but it seemed fun to go on a mini road trip. While I was getting ready, my mom called and told me my step-grandfather had passed away that morning from cancer. We all knew it was coming, but I guess it hit me harder than I thought it would. We started driving to Five Guys and my stomach started to hurt. I thought maybe it was motion sickness because that always happens when I get in the back seat or ride in a car for a while. When we got to Five Guys, I went to use the restroom because I thought maybe it’s just the hangover. I made myself get sick, I pooped, I tried everything and I ended up clogging the toilet which was super fucking embarrassing since we hadn’t even eaten yet. The employee who brought the plunger was like, “are you okay?” And I was like, “yeah, just super embarrassed.” It was awful. Still, I didn’t feel any better, I felt worse. I was in a “YOLO, fuck it” kind of mood and I proceeded to order my burger and eat which was good, but I felt even worse. Usually, when I have a hangover, I eat a big greasy burger to try to soak up the alcohol. Depending on how much I drank. So, we start heading home and my stomach is tied up in a knot. It was up at the top and I literally felt like I was going to need surgery. I was in tears, I couldn’t get comfortable, it was the worst pain (almost) that I’ve ever felt. We get back to the house and my fiancée puts pillows under my legs, nothing. Rubs my stomach, nothing. Gets me a glass of water, nothing. They had been asking me if I wanted to go to the E.R. but I was trying to tough it out. Finally, I gave in and we went to this really nice hospital that looked like they weren’t even open but we went in anyway. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. I was hunched over in the chair, crying, and I didn’t know what was happening to my body. They bring me back and give me this concoction made from the gods. I have no idea what was in it, but it instantly untangled the knot and I felt like walking right out of there. It was fantastic. The doctor had a crush on me, I guess, but mildly (?) accused me of being an alcoholic because apparently I drink more than normal people. I said I drink casually and that was met with the response, “some people do heroin casually, too.” Because obviously those two go hand in hand. Silly me. I felt my face involuntarily twist into a WTF look almost immediately after I realized what was just said and that was the end of that. I didn’t feel so comfortable anymore.

My favorite character/video game is Super Mario anything. I freaking love it. Everything about it.

I know I bounce around topics a lot, but I truly think they’re going to be interesting when I start them and when they’re not, leave them anyway. Honestly, I sometimes think that maybe someday, someone will find my blog or my journal and read about me and be genuinely interested in every little detail about me, even the bad stuff. I know my fiancée is, but she doesn’t count.

When I got home from work earlier, I decided to install the nesting boxes for my chickens and a bar for them on top. 

It’s still a work in progress, but they’re screwed into the wood behind them. I have those things under them because I still need to put up a few more things so they don’t fall. They snapped their old roosting bar because they’re my little fatties, so I made this one from PVC pipe with duct tape around it for grip.

I’m starting to run a fever and get body aches, so I’m going to go ahead and wrap this up. Should I put a disclaimer for all the shit I just wrote? Is that necessary?

Disclaimer: I am not by any means condoning or suggesting drinking or smoking or whatever you just read. I’m simply relaying my life story.

Just in case. 🙂