Mystery caller


You are? Because it wasn’t.

A couple months back my family moved from Germany to Georgia (that was a shocker). No, Georgia was not on my mind, but we go where the military sends us. No offense to the people who were here before me, but this place sucks! I am originally from Florida, near the Cocoa Beach area, yeah, that’s right, be jealous! Here there is no such thing as unlimited high speed internet, no Panera, etc. The list goes on of everything this place does not have. But we are making the most of it.

Coming from Germany we had to pretty much start our lives over, and get all the utilities put in our name and buy new cell phones. This is where the fun begins. Verizon…..Verizon! This is where we got our brand spankin’ new cell phones, YAY!!! The downfall, pre-used numbers. That’s right, recycled phone numbers, and you know what that means!

My phone tends to get more action than Matt’s, not that he’s really missing out on much, but I kind of feel bad sometimes that my prior phone number owner had more friends than his. My number was owned by a lady, and I have now spoken to every member of her family. I even had a really nice chat with her mom on Thanksgiving! Sweet woman, poor thing didn’t even have her daughters new number or know how to reach her. I mean who the fuck does that?

I have received new birth photos, happy holidays texts, had a long conversation about social media with her brother, been called at 3:00 AM about a death in the family (I was sorry I couldn’t make the funeral), and even gotten calls from online schools and loan companies for this girl. I am truly a part of her family now. The only thing I haven’t gotten was an invite to a wedding yet. Again, who the fuck doesn’t give their family a way to contact them? Thankfully they have me to talk to.

I also have a mystery FaceTime caller from Japan who likes to ring me at between 3 and 4 AM my time. I have answered and my husband has answered to let them know that they probably meant to call someone else. Apparently they don’t believe us. They always point the phone at the ceiling and wait to see who answers, and if we are consistent I guess. Matt say’s it’s my secret “John”, which makes me feel kinda irresistible, if truth be told. So, every time this person calls, even though they won’t talk to me, I know they secretly hope I’ll answer each time they call.


Today is a whole new story! Matt, that’s right, Matt got a mystery texter! I was so excited for him, and told him I wanted to see! So he sent me the pictures. Of course he asked if I knew the number, which my phone says no I don’t and the phone tends to know these things. So I thought I would share the conversation with you since I am so proud of my husband for having a new friend and because he actually talked to the person instead of letting them know they had the wrong number and blocking them.

Now *disclaimer* you may think my husband is an asshole for what he says (he’s in the green boxes), but I’m still proud of him for coming out of his box a little.




BTW, text-iquette people! You never start a conversation with “what do you want to do”! This is how bad things happen to people when they don’t know who they are texting! This is an FYI write yourself a damned memo, DO NOT start conversations this way! It’s a good thing Matt’s not the murdery type…I mean what the shit?

I feel kind of bad for Matt though, this was where the conversation ended, and apparently his mystery person is below the legal drinking age. Poor Matt maybe I should loan him some of my people for a little bit!  I think everyone should have a good mystery texter, caller, or new phone families.


Flag for that


To start this blog off I need to tell you all I never leave my house if I don’t absolutely have too. This is my life, I stay home until I am forced to go into the real world and wear my “outside clothes”. Today, I actually left TWICE! I needed stuff….So I put on my outside clothes and went out into the world and left my happy cave full of wonders.

THIS is what I saw at the grocery store!

I have a flag for that!

 This person LITERALLY has a flag for almost any occasion. I can imagine his buddy saying “Hey man, you know Christmas is coming soon.” and his response will automatically be, “Don’t worry, I have a flag for that!”. I wonder if he changes them out by the season or if he keeps the same ones up all year? I really wanted to ask questions, but didn’t know who it belonged too. I did however, get that fabulous picture.

I mean, who the hell wouldn’t want 6 flags in the back of their truck? It’s certainly cheaper than going to Six Flags Theme park! He just saved himself a couple hundred dollars in park passes, and however much in gas! This shit could only be legal in the South. There is no other place on the earth quite like the South, trust me on that, cause I’m not from here and it astounds the shit out of me!

The other big thing in the South is drunk driving. Now mind you it’s still not legal, but its highly promoted. EVERYONE here drives drunk! What the shit? One of the guys my husband knows told us that if you don’t drink something is wrong with you! A little back story, we went to a get together at a guys house for a retirement party when this other fellow told us about how something must be wrong with us. So, all around us are adults getting wasted, who don’t live at this house, knowing full well that they are going to have to drive home soon.

My husband doesn’t drink because it gives him horrible migraines, and me…..well, you just never know what you’re going to get if I drink! Not to mention I refuse to drink any amount of alcohol and drive anywhere. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! So I figured out the next time we decide to go to one of these “parties” I’ll stop taking my meds 2 days prior and make sure I drink as much as everyone else so that we make sure they never ask us to drink again!


They had me at Jail!!

They will either get happy crazy or horrible crazy. Both tend to scare the shit out of people. Either way Hubby can stay sober and drive me home and we will no longer be the “Odd Couple”. We can be socially accepted and asked not to drink. I mean who the fuck promotes drinking and driving? How does not drinking equate to something is wrong with you? I’m just waiting for these “good ol’ boys” to get DUI’s.

The guy with the truck probably has a flag for that shit too! “I got my drunk flag up boys! Time for me to drive my ass home!”. Surely the cops would never notice that shit. The next time I see that truck I am going to have to ask about the flags and if they ever get changed so I can let y’all know!


Furniture and mud holes.


Looks like it’s blog-thirty, and it’s about time I wrote something down. Life has been a bit boring here. I have been selling off all of the furniture I no longer want, and have started peopling. I have spoken to people that I didn’t even know who paid me to come take away my junk! Now this is a pretty awesome job. I don’t have to lift, haul, tote, carry, or load any bit of it. I just have to take someones money and let then have whatever it is they came for.

One of the ladies I sold some stuff to called me her “Furniture God Mother”, has a nice ring to it! I am trying to furnish her whole place, and thankfully she wants to take my stuff!! Now I need a wand…and I need a nice one, not one of those cheap plastic ones. I want a fancy one with crystals, ribbons, and utterly ridiculous nonsense that would perfectly suit me.There is no reason to do anything half-assed.

I have firmly decided a philosophy class is not for me. I am in one, but its a crazy mess. I read the writings of these great philosophers and apparently my perception of what they are trying to say is not anywhere close to what the quizzes want me to interpret. I though philosophy was based upon debate and differing views? How in the hell am I supposed to have an opinion and my own critical thinking skills if you are going to tell me that there is only one way to think about it? This is bullshit. I do great in the discussions and readings, but crap in the quizzes. Maybe I should write the Professor and tell him that this method of teaching philosophy is unacceptable?

My friend just sent me that little basketball on Facebook….let’s just say that I touched it like she told me to. Which then commenced the most horrible little virtual basketball game that I just cannot get a good score on. The she tells me she got a whopping 29 points. To which I replied ” Yeah, well fuck you and your stealthy fingers”. I do not have any kind of stealth, not even in my fingers. All of me has the “like an elephant” lack of stealth. Why the hell do I not have this skill? Where can I get some? Fucking stealthy fingers.

One thing I have figured out during all this selling of my crap, is that people think I’m funny. When they come to my house not only do they get stuff but they also end up laughing a lot in my driveway. One lady even got a text while she was here asking if she was safe. I immediately told her to write “dead, stuffed under the bed.” no wait “dead. In the attic” or even “dead. In the back yard”. By the way, she would never, ever be put in the attic because who the hell is going to drag the body up those stairs? Not this girl! Plus it would stain my garage, and who wants to try to get the blood smears out of there? You literally couldn’t even clean those properly right now because of all the stuff in the garage that I’m trying to sell! So, the attic is out. It would probably be the back yard. There is no grass out there so it would be easy peasy to bury someone out there.

She asked me if I had planned out killing someone, I told her not until she mentioned it. She thinks I’m funny. We also discussed getting together again to have slug races. We would make a little maze on the driveway with salt and each have a slug to put into the maze/race. The slug that made it the furthest or all the way out would win. We are also talking about using Christmas lights along the salted lines to help us see when it gets dark and makes the race all the more interesting But no blinking lights, or multi-colored lights. Those drive me crazy, for one, just one color please! It’s more aesthetically pleasing and doesn’t make a person feel a little panicky. The blinking thing is annoying and makes you feel like you’re rapidly blinking. Sorry but that’s not going to work during slug racing. She and I may actually do this, and if so I’ll take pictures….or maybe she just thought it was a funny idea and doesn’t really want to do it? Either way I’ll probably still set up my little maze, poor slugs, I feel a bit bad about using them for my amusement with their deaths. I think I will substitute the salt with sand. I have plenty in my no-grass backyard.

Yes! My backyard has just a little strip of grass along the edge of the house and porch, other than that its just DIRT! Who the hell sells you a house without grass?!? Don’t worry I highly questioned this before the purchase (another reason why the trailer may have been better. It surely would have come with grass on all sides). I was told that these houses are only allotted so much sod per house. Apparently all of ours was used in the front and sides and none was left over for the backyard. Poor sad backyard. I really do need grass and am thinking about getting it Dick and Jane style. Go to other people’s yards and cut out a piece to take home and do this until I have a whole backyard of grass. Good plan, this may have to start tomorrow.

Talking about the lack of grass. We were at Wal-Mart the other night, Matt and I. He starts looking at one of the above ground pools which can fit a whole family but is shallow enough for tiny people.

Matt: We need one of these at the new house.


Matt: What?

Me: We aren’t getting a pool right now.

Matt: Why not?

Me: You want our kids to go play in a pool in the dirt? You want a muddy pool and muddy children? Did you forget WE HAVE NO GRASS?

Matt: Oh….

I am sorry, but muddy dogs, children, and whoever else may be walking back there are not allowed in the house. I will not be swimming in a mud hole, I am Low Class Fancy. It’s not allowed in these parts. Had he gone along with my idea we could have had a yard full of grass and a mud hole to play in. Not to mention fainting goats and roaming chickens. Right now the mud hole is a no go right along with the animals Matt won’t let me have.



The New Therapist


So, I mentioned that I was getting a new therapist in a previous blog. She is Ah-mazing. I also liked the old therapist til she started her shenanigans, but this one is better! She is like a comfy pair of sweats, and not in a bad way. Not meaning that they are worn out, probably smelly from not washing them so often because they are always on your ass, or that you wouldn’t want anyone to see you in them. I mean that she is comfortable, something to look forward to, and she smells just fine.

I am a rambler. I tend to try to fit everything I need to say in the shortest period of time possible, and I hate uncomfortable silences with new people. So I tend to spout everything all at once, and most likely incoherently, when I first meet people. Which makes me look even crazier than I am and when I get home I feel like I may have just scared that person half to death. Only half to dead because apparently they didn’t literally die in my presence.

She never made me feel like I was “too much”. She listened even when I went over my allotted time. She didn’t try to kick me out of her office when time was up or even before time was up. She was kind and didn’t make me feel like my mind is a traitor that tries to sabotage me every time I meet someone new. I always say to my self “Next time you will keep your mouth shut and try to contain your discomfort so you don’t scare people away. You will be on your best behavior. You will not ramble or talk about some nonsense that some people don’t think is near as funny as you are. You will not behave inappropriately according to normal peoples standards.” Then real life happens and my mind says “Fuck all that, you are just going to be you. Fuck what they think and if they can’t handle this shit they can’t handle being your friend”. Just like when I met her, and I told her I was born a disappointment. I believe she was a bit startled by the honesty and frankness of my statement, but she was okay with it and my thoughts of that statement. I told her about how I almost lost my shit at the pharmacy that very morning and that I was seriously contemplating something that may or may not have included stabbing someone, and she didn’t run screaming.

I think this time it will work out. I have only ever had two mental health people that I have liked and they were both in Germany. The therapist I first ever truly loved was one of the most amazing people I have ever met. She truly liked me, and I was able to trust her. Then the military decided to be assholes and fire her! What the fuck? And they did this right when I needed her the most. Then they told me I was REQUIRED to see another therapist. At that point I completely threw a temper tantrum (full blown crying, screaming, one foot stamp, and dying inside) and ABSOLUTELY refused.

I am crazy, and you WILL NOT tell me what I have to do with my own mental healthcare. You cannot make me take my meds or require me to do anything. Learn your role military mental health people! The other person I truly liked was my prescribing psychologist who also became my therapist when the other one was fired. She is funny, witty, and SUPER smart. I like that in a person. I saw her until I left Germany and tried to convince her to move with me. To which she refused telling me she hated the South. I really can’t blame her, at least she knows what does and doesn’t work for her. I still wish she were here or that I could talk to her about how life is going here.

Instead I have a new therapist who may just be the one for me here in Georgia. Keep your fingers crossed that this works out better than the last.




Where the hell do people put their clutter? I am having issues. I feel like I should just throw everything away so that there is no clutter or stuff in my house but the bare minimum. I mean truly where the hell do people put all their stuff in these houses that there is no clutter or small bits of stuff like wooden statutes from Africa?

I am fluctuating between a minimalist house with nothing or trying to figure out how to decorate…which is not something I am equipped with. Give me a picture and I can recreate it, but just give me an empty house and I got nothing.

I have bad genes. I was not given the ones that would be highly useful right now. I also cannot party plan to save my good name, not saying my name is completely good, but its good enough to need saving.

Not sure what to do with this house now that I have it….the trailer idea may have truly been better because then no one would have cared.

Low Class Fancy


Interesting chats with Matt:

On the way to the lawyers office to sign for our new house we passed by a bunch of trailers and trailer parks. Hey, we live in south Georgia and that should explain it all, and no we didn’t buy a trailer, it’s a real house without wheels underneath.Matt was the driver, as always, so I had the pleasure of looking out the window and thinking about these trailers and the fact that I truly don’t like Georgia.

After a few minutes, I turned to Matt and told him I thought we might be making a mistake in buying our house. He was not pleased, since we were already half way to the lawyers office which is about an hour away from where we live. Then he gave me the what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look.

I told him that we should probably buy a double wide trailer instead. This way we would not only fit in, but then we could be the snobby rich neighbors. We could be all snooty and stuck up and feel like the royalty of the trailer park with our cool cars, well dressed children, and an above ground pool around the back. We could be living high on the horse and everyone would be jealous. Instead of buying our fancy house and being the poor couple in the neighborhood, because lets face it, we aren’t rich or famous, so in this nice house we are pretty much low class fancy.

If I lived in the trailer park and talked like an educated sailor nobody would think twice about it. Here the PTA moms look at me with jaws dropped and can’t believe I would say half the shit I do say. They really need to get over it and grow up. I am an adult and am allowed to talk like one. My parents informed me I was allowed to curse after I turned 18, and that was a year or two ago, so my language is fine.

Matt again is just looking at me and probably wondering if I am done making my point and tells me that we will be fine, I have some good points, but not all of our stuff will fit in a double wide. I had to stop and think. Should we have a giant yard sale? Donate a lot of stuff? Just leave our stuff in the rental house? or should we buy the new house and suck it up that we wouldn’t be the cool popular kids?

Then we got to the lawyers while I was still debating and Matt signed the papers, sealing the deal on our fate…no double wide high class living for this girl.

It’s me, not you!


I had a therapist. She is a wonderful person chock full of ADD. I had to break up with her. Unfortunately she and I just couldn’t continue on with our relationship as neither of our needs, okay maybe just mine, were not being met. She didn’t have time for me and I couldn’t cope with the cancelled appointments, lack of communication, and lack of experience with Bipolar.

It was doomed from the beginning. So, I sent her this text:

Her name,

I regret to say this, but I think we are going to have to break up. They say communication is the key to all relationships, and unfortunately we haven’t been having that. So I just thought I would let you know.


She did reply, in which, she discreetly said “Thank God you broke up with me so that I didn’t have to bear the guilt of telling you I can’t see you and so you don’t do something bat shit crazy on me”. She might have a point, but I still feel a bit short changed. How dare she just accept my break up and not put up a fight! What the hell? I am totally worth fighting for and she didn’t even put in the least bit of effort to make me feel special. Instead she was just like, oh thank the heavens it’s you doing the breaking up and not me.

Just like that line “It’s me not you” but in reverse. Let’s be real, who wouldn’t want to be my therapist? I explained to her what bipolar is like, assigned her some reading to be more informed and knowledgeable of my condition, and made her laugh. What did she do? Cancelled appointments via text, didn’t attempt to reschedule, and then accepts my break up without even saying “Please don’t leave me!” Who the hell does that?

Tomorrow I get a new therapist and hopefully she appreciates me more than the last one.

Hospital scented


It has been a rough couple of days. We moved! We decided that renting wasn’t working out anymore and bought a house. Moving is the absolute pits, but will hopefully be worth it in the end.

As I was cleaning out the rental house today I got to thinking about candles… At the time I was cleaning out the refrigerator with bleach when the brilliance hit. Why are there no hospital scented candles? I love nothing more than the clean and sanitary smell of a hospital. The bleach smell. I really think there should be a candle called “hospital smell”. I mean why not? Who wouldn’t love a candle that smells like the hospital?

Also I should never be trusted to clean the fridge. I have to completely disassemble the entire interior to feel like it has been cleaned. That being said the last time, when we were moving out of our house in Germany, I broke the damned fridge. The day before our inspection to move out I BROKE the damned shelf in the fridge. Not good.

This time thankfully Matt stayed near to monitor me not to break this one and only clean it. He took all the pieces out and put them back in after I had thoroughly OCD cleaned the whole thing, with bleach. Have I mentioned I LOVE bleach?

Chip dispensensers


Me: Reece got chippy with me.

Me: 2 pictures of my son and smashed tortilla chips all over the living room floor.

Matt: I take it he got the bag?

Me: No, he’s magically shitting tortilla chips now. He’s like a little chip dispenser.

Matt: Sell him then.

Me: And he’s doing Mio shots.

Matt: Nice.

Me: This is not a joke. He is stained orange from doing Mio shots. So don’t be surprised.

Matt: How did he get the Mio so he could do shots?

Me: Off the counter.

Me: Okay, so I am legitimately going crazy. No exaggeration here.

Matt: Why is that? (he is not surprised)

Me: I forgot my meds and my judgement is highly in question here.

Matt: You forgot them last night or the last few nights?

Me: And I think I may have forgotten more than once but I’m not 100% on that. And squirrels are furry homeless people if that explains things.

Matt: Good lord dear.

Me: And I’m breaking up with my therapist. Communication is key in any relationship (Manda brought that point up in another conversation) and she and I just don’t have that, so I’m going to have to leave her. And I need to get a referral for McKenzie from Medical but my judgement is too suspect for me to call right now.I may just tell the person I need a referral to stab people, who knows.

Matt: Maybe you should take your meds now.

Me: I did…..Now it’s the waiting game.

Matt: Okay.

Me: Me and the crazy are becoming one, and my husband won’t let me be a goldfish. (I’ll explain about the goldfish later)

Matt: Well now you know what happens when you don’t take your meds.

Me: So, I will now fully admit that I’m mentally ill, but I’m not exactly sick.

Matt: You might be but I am not a professional.

Me: I’m supposed to be a professional one day but I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle all of that, I’m not good at adulting.

Matt: Me neither. (not sure if he meant he’s not sure I can handle being a professional or if he isn’t good at adulting either)

Me: We are quite the pair.

Matt: Yes we are.

Me:You should find a better wife, I’m a shit one.

Matt: Well, I believe you are the best wife for me dear.

Me: I’m not sure, but what do I know?

Matt: I told you Reece got his attitude from you.

Me: No, just his listening skills.

Matt: Same thing.

Me: Thankfully right now he’s not as crazy as me.

Matt: True that.

Me: (Meds finally kicked in). It’s exhausting to be me!

Matt: I bet. (He means it’s also exhausting to be with me)

Cattle and Unicorns


Me: we are all cattle

Matt: I would rather be a deer.

Me: You can’t, you’re a dear.(Ha! Now he’s being ridiculous)

Matt: Hahaha

Me: I’d rather be a unicorn with a limp, but you don’t see that happening either now do you?

Matt: Nope.

Me: Not even going to ask about the limp? That’s disappointing.

Matt: I was wondering about that but I didn’t ask.

Me: Okay, well now that you asked I’ll tell you. If I had a limp people wouldn’t want to kill me or ride me for fear of injuring me more. So it’s a win win.

Matt: You will still get shot just to mount your head.

Me: Doubt it, They would just take photos because who wants a gimpy unicorn head on the wall when they will always remember how cruel it is to kill an already fucked up unicorn.

Matt: How would you know if you are limp or not with your head mounted on the wall?

Me: I’m not limp, I have a limp, big difference.

Matt: Limp in your leg?

Me: And no one wants to kill the last unicorn that has a limp.

Matt: I would just keep you.

Me: I’d probably end up in a zoo or circus. People will pay to see my gimpy ass and no one will be able to kill and stuff me. I’ll get my own special enclosure with an awesome caretaker who is my BFF and brings me treats, and thinks my limp is cute.

Matt: Yes you would dear.

Me: Thank you, that means a lot to me.

Matt: I would put you in the back yard.

Me: You would need a bigger back yard and don’t forget the treats. And bestiality is still frowned upon so don’t get any fucked up ideas.

Matt: Too late.

Me: You’re just sick you know! I am a gimpy unicorn for God’s sake!!

Now who is the disturbed one?