Sleep, Cycle, Sick, Work, Thugboy

In that order...

Sleep: My sleep schedule is starting to get screwed up again. It's driving me fucking crazy. NYEBoy snores, if I don't fall asleep before him, I'm screwed. He's been going to bed earlier than normal this week, so when I go to bed, he's already snoring. Last night I had visions of smothering him with my pillow* just so I could fall asleep.

Cycle [TMI warning]: My cycle started the other day. After only having a few hours of pains, nothing has really happened. The flow (what is a better term, this sounds SO gross!) is very, very, very light. I'm worried if it stops completely in the next day or so that it will be a really bad cycle next time it starts.

Sick: I'm sick, again. I can barely move my head to the right because the pain is so bad in my tonsils. The weather keeps changing from hot to cold. It's depleting my energy.

Work: I am having a really hard time finding motivation to do any work. The most popular thing I am selling only brings a profit of 1/3 the cost of a happy meal. I have a house full of inventory, but no motivation. My goal for February is to force myself to do some every day.

Thugboy: I know, I know, work and Thugboy should NEVER be seen together! Ha! No update, so I guess it was good news for them. Ugh. Whatever.

*I wouldn't really.

A Painful Reminder

The worst part about a 75+ day cycle, is the beginning of the next one. The pain is excruciating. It's like sharp pains ripping through my body as a friendly reminder that I'm infertile. Yet again, my body is a failure. A fat, achy failure. I ♥ my body.

Bad Luck Prayers Needed

I know it's wrong to pray for ill will against someone, but I can't help myself. Thugboy is going to court tomorrow for domestic violence from New Years Eve, when him and his sister got into a physical fight over watches she stole of his for drug money.

I just want this prick gone. I'll update you tomorrow as soon as I hear how it went. The outcome of the court decision will determine when I get A again. Bad news for him, is good news for me. Ha!

We Don't Love Each Other

Dear Elizabeth Cohen*,

While I was watching CNN yesterday, you and Alina* talked about the Octuplets that were recently born. Alina asked you if this was normal or did the couple use fertility drugs. Your response to Alina left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm paraphrasing, but you said something like "No, this is not normal. Let's be honest here, this wasn't about a husband and a wife who love each other". As an infertile, I know many, many men and women who have had to go through treatments, and there is no doubt in my mind that these couples love each other.

Do you know what it's like to go month to month not knowing if you'll ever be parents? Do you know what it's like for those months to turn into year after year? Do you know what it's like to pop pill after pill in hopes of getting pregnant? What about shot after shot? Do you know what it's like to have to write checks or hand over cash in large amounts still not knowing if you'll become pregnant, stay pregnant, and deliver a healthy child?

The love between an infertile couple is astounding and your response was pathetic. Take some time and read the blogs from over a thousand men and women and tell me they don't love each other.

Sincerely,
In Due Time

* I am not familiar with the day time anchors, but this conversation was around 2pm yesterday and after looking online I think these were the two ladies. My apologies if it wasn't, but I'm 95% sure it was them.

Getting Tested

After Cecily blogged about her kick ass trip to 23andMe, I got to thinking about "IT" again. I kind of put "IT" out of my mind after doing some initial research. It's easier to not think about, especially since we're not doing treatments and just winging it. When I did the initial research, I found out 40% of people who test negative, still have "IT". To honest, I haven't even looking into it much, because I am scared. I don't know if I really want to know the big picture.

But, after Cecily's trip, I decided I need to go see a genetic counselor to get the test done. It will probably cost about 5 grand, but I need to do it before we spend more than that with the big infertility guns. So, I called the minor med last week and asked to speak with the doctor who saw us that day. He doesn't work there full time, but they agreed to pass along my phone number and e-mail address. I am hoping he will be able to give me a little bit of insight and direction. I don't want to tell anyone what "IT" is yet, because it is rare and I am sure google will pick it up. So, sorry I'm being so vague. I can say it is about a mutated gene, though. Maybe when I get some more information, I'll indulge.

NYEBoy is none to pleased with the idea of spending the money to get tested, but I assured him I wanted to know and would save the money for it myself. I know he still thinks it's all bullshit, though.

Don't You Have Any Other Clothes?

That's what my grandma yells at me every time she sees me. "I'm tired of seeing you in the same shirt", she'll add. A year and a half ago, I started eating out more because it's easier and cheaper to do that with only one or two mouths to feed. Throw in a 2 liter a day coke addiction, and there is no question why I weigh as much as I do. Slowly, my clothes began to feel a little snug. And snugger. And snugger. Then, I had to move.

As I boxed up the clothes from my closet, in went the scrubs, the little black dress, the simple black shirt, and everything else that no longer fit. In another bag I packed 5 shirts, a pair of jeans, a pair of velour pants, pajamas, socks, and panties. And that's all I have worn for four months. In fact, I don't even worn the jeans unless I absolutely have to, because they are so fucking uncomfortable.

I've always been about a size 8, thanks to that ass of mine. But then I saw 10, 12, and 14. I refused to buy anything bigger, but I knew I had to do something. I've tried diet pills, but since I had open heart surgery and the pills made me feel funny, I knew I didn't want to mess with those again. I've tried a few diets, but I always fall off the bandwagon when I don't see instant results. It's unreasonable, I know. I didn't gain this weight over night and it's not going to dissipate overnight, either. I'm know I am not ready for a lifestyle change but, I had to do something. I decided I start adding exercise and water into my life, baby steps. I've lost just over 2lbs since I started. Last week, I even went two days without a coke.

I'm still fat. I still don't fit in my other clothes, but with a little bit of persistence, I hope to wear those clothes again. I hope to open that box that's been sitting in the living room floor since I moved four months ago and wear those clothes. One day, maybe I'll even have to buy clothes that fit because those clothes will be too big. But, for now, I'm going to try to keep fighting. The results are painfully slow, but surely it'll pay off. Then, my grandma can smile when she sees me wearing something other than those five shirts and those damn black pants.

Show & Tell - Twice The Ice

Remember what I found in my ice maker? Well, the infamous leasing company is still a piece of shit and never fixed it. So, we've been counting down the days until our lease is up and buying buying bags of ice until then.

I was very happy to find out we have Twice The Ice here. If you haven't seen one before, click here to watch the video. They are like an ice vending machine. They rock! For less than $2, you can either get a 16lb bag of ice, or bring your own cooler and get 20lbs of dropped right into it. So, with spring and summer around the corner, check them out to see if there is one in your area for those upcoming parties.

I just wish they printed receipts so I could save them and spell out suck it on the condo walls when our lease is up. But, since they don't, I'll just post it here, SUCK IT!

Go see what the rest of the class is sharing today.

Either Or

Why is it when I order a fillet it's either laying on my plate still mooing or closely resembles a charcoal?! It doesn't matter how the fuck I order it, they always fuck my order up. I am always stuck on salivating over a sweet potato while he gets to eat his meal, because I am waiting on mine to be brought back out to me. When I get it back, it's always the complete opposite of the way I sent it in. Yeah, that middle ground called MEDIUM doesn't exist, apparently.

Moooo, Medium-Rare, Medium, Medium-Well, Charcoal.

Stupidfuckingsteakhousesuckscowballs. Damn it.

Basic Cleaning Tips

Krystle posted the other day asking for tips on how you keep your house clean. I'm no Susie homemaker, but I figured I could share some basic cleaning tips.

What I have found to be the most helpful, is to spread the major duties out over the week. There are seven days and seven categories I use. Bedroom, Bathrooms, Kitchen, Living Room, Office/Playroom, Laundry, and Outdoors. Obviously, you can tweak them to fit your needs. With a pen and paper, sit down and decide which area you will focus on each day. Then, go through the room and ask yourself which things you need to do with each area.

Bedroom: Do the sheets need to be washed? Are there any clothes on the floor that need to be picked up? Are there any lingering water cups? Do you need to put away any clothes that you didn't end up wearing after all? Does the TV need to be dusted? What about the night stands and dresser? Do you need to vacuum?

Bathrooms: Is the shower clean? Does the toilet need to be cleaned? Are there any lingering clothes that need to be put into a dirty laundry basket? Does the mirror need to be wiped down? What about the sink and counters? Does the floor need to be mopped or vacuumed? Does the trash need to be taken out?

Kitchen: Are there any clean dishes that need to be put away? Any dirty dishes that need to be cleaned? Are the counter tops clean? Does the refrigerator need to be cleaned out? Does the trash need to be taken out? Do the floors need to be swept and mopped?

Living Room: Are there any toys that need to be picked up? Does the TV need dusting? What about the tables? Are there any dishes or trash that need to be taken care of? Does the floor need vacuumed? Any windows need to be wiped down? Does your Christmas tree need to be taken down?

Office/Playroom: Do the toys need to be picked up? Any videos need to be put away? Is your desk clean? Do you have anything that need to be put back in it's place? Does anything need to be dusted? Do the floor need to be swept/mopped or vacuumed?

Laundry: Separate the loads and do them. As soon as you hear the buzzer, take care of the load. As soon as they dried, put them away.

Outdoors: Is there any trash in your yard? Any leaves that need to be raked? Any weeds that need to be pulled? Any flowers that need a drink of water? Does you car need to be cleaned out?

Is this going to keep your house spotless? Probably not, especially if you don't have a spouse children that will help. But, if you keep up with this day-to-day basic cleaning, your house shouldn't overwhelm you at any point. Or, you could just say fuck it all and hire a maid.

Do you have any basic cleaning tips to share with me?

Just Say No

To Toast. While I was cooking breakfast, I went to grab the toast and laid two fingers on the metal part of the toaster. Since I'm right-handed it's making it nearly impossible to be on the computer to type or move a mouse. And cleaning? Ha. Forget about it. I'm going to bed. Dishes be damned.

Better Late, Than Never

Today is the first day of IComLeavWe for January 2009. If you're just joining me, welcome to my corner of the internet. Take a look around. Me casa, Su casa. Enjoy!
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

I still communicate to M at least once a week or so, usually through text, but occasionally through the phone. I have often wondered how he was able to move on so easily. I have wondered if he regretted the things he did or didn't do to me and our relationship. From outward appearances, he moved on without looking back. I guess that shouldn't surprise me, after all he was talking to her before we split. He would probably deny it, but the proof is in the phone records and lack of emotion those last few weeks and months.

I am happy with where life has taken me. I don't have any regrets. I did what I could do to make our relationship work, there was nothing I could have done more. I love NYEBoy and am quite comfortable with our relationship, but I still wondered if M was sorry or had regrets.

M and I were talking a week or two ago, one way or another, we ended up on the topic of my blog. He said he wanted the link, so I emailed him the link. Out of the blue today, I got a text that said:

Hey I just got done reading pretty much all your blog and I just wanted to say Im sorry for all I put you through. I know its a little late to say that but hey better lat than never


Better late than never, indeed. I forgive him, but I haven't forgotten. Those last few months were brutal. Emotionally, it sucked ass. I'm at a happier place now. The pain is now like a scar. It no longer hurts, but there is a mark and if you touch it, it has no feelings. I'm not sure if he will continue to read my blog, either way is fine with me. I'm just glad to see those two words, I'm sorry.

Proud To Be An American

Today is a day for the history books. Not since in the days after September 11th, have I seen the majority of Americans coming together, as a nation, as I do today. I see the hope and faith in people's eyes and in their words. We are ready to turn the page to the next chapter. We're ready to get back the respect we've lost from the rest of the world over the past 8 years.

Our 44th president has a lot of work a head of him. Things didn't get to where we are today over night, and they won't fix themselves that way, either. I know President Obama is surrounding himself with the people he needs to get us back there, so I know we'll get there.

Today, I am proud to be an American. Congratulations to our 44th president.

My Trophy Shelf

Growing up, my mom always told me, since she had three kids, we couldn't all be in a sport. I was the unlucky runt. I only remember doing two things, a tap class around 4 or 5 and karate as a teenager. So, I never had a trophy shelf. In fact, I have only received one trophy and it was from the karate class.

I've decided to make my own virtual trophy shelf. I have received a few awards lately and I wanted to keep them together, on a virtual shelf. Thank you for continuing to read and thank you for my lovely bloggy awards.





Given by:
Cool, Calm, & Collected
September 2007




Given by:
Woman Anyone?
December 2008




Given by:
Just Keep Swimming
January 2009


Given by:
Through the eyes of a Stranger
June 2009

Show & Tell - Matt, Liz, & Madeline

If you haven't met Matt, from MattLogelin.com, I would like for you to take a minute to go read his story. Last year, his wife gave birth to their adorable daughter, Madeline. The next day, the unthinkable happened.

Matt has turned this tragic situation into a foundation to help the families who have also lost a parent. His wife's memory will live on through the Liz Logelin Foundation.



He is also is in this week's issue of People Magazine, so go pick one up! It's the issue with Patrick Swayze on the cover, starting on page 108.



Matt, just in case you read this (you know, with all that free time you have), you're an amazing father and Liz would be proud. Madeline is lucky to have a father as dedicated as you. Many prayers for you.

Go see what the class is sharing this week.

What Would I Put In This Purse?

Musings of a Fat Chick is asking 'what would you put in this purse"?

I would put my my iPhone, make-up bag, wallet, and if it's big enough, my Macbook Air. Because you know a girl can't be too far away from all things internets. Ha.

So, what would you put in the purse?

And I Wonder Why I Can't Sleep

I went to bed a little before 11, fell asleep a little after midnight, and woke up a little before 1:30. I have too much going on in my brain, I guess.

Before NYEBoy moved down here, he was able to pick up a client that he could work for while living down here. They are about to begin a really big project. His boss asked him if he would be interested in moving back for the summer, so they can work face to face for a bit. He even mentioned putting him up in an apartment.

I think it's cool, for him. I don't want to spend my entire summer there. We've got to move at the end of July. I also have plans get A and two other kids I watched since birth for at least a week, maybe as much as a month. We have plans to take them to the beach and to a water/theme park about an hour away. It's all just conversation right now, but a possibility, none the less. Plus, I have to be here with my inventory.

We also found out NYEBoy's father is coming back to the country next week. We don't know if he will visit here or not, so I have to clean my house. I'm embarrassed proud to admit I still have boxes in the living room from the move and my Christmas tree is still up. Anyone want to come over and help?

Will You Join Me?

In welcoming Erin and her family back home from Guatemala after trying to adopt their baby girl for two years. Their A is only two weeks younger than my A.

Go give them some love.

A Letter To My Drug Dealer

Dear Coke,

Thanks to a 2-liter-a-day coke addiction, I have slowly saved a gallon ziploc bag large amount of red caps to enter on your site to redeem for some rewards. Although, it's nice to get something back besides an expanding waist line for buying A LOT the same brand of soda, I have two complaints.

First off, who's stupid fucking idea was it to only allow you to enter 10 codes a day? It would be nice to enter the entire fucking bag all the caps in one trip. But, I guess it doesn't matter, because you've made it a little easier for us, which brings me to my next question...



Who's stupid fucking idea was it to make the code so fucking blurry you need a damn magnify glass to read the entire fucking bag the few caps? I'm in my 20's, I shouldn't have to borrow my grandma's magnifying glass to enter for 3 measly points.


Lucky for you, I was born prematurely, so I can't see for shit any way. Which is why I have my own magnifying apparatus. However, I still thought you wanted to know.

Sincerely,
A Coke Addict

PS: Since I can't read the code on some of the caps, I have taken it into my own hands to cut the plastic insert out of the top of the cap. Please be aware, that if I cut a finger off, I will be sending you a PDF of my medical bills.

Fast Forward

There have been times in my life, where I wish I could hit the fast forward button. Mostly, to get through the hard, rough patches of life.

In my early childhood, it would have been on Sunday's when I had to visit my dad. He was very strict. I never knew how drunk he was going to be, or if I was going to get a beating. My mom enjoyed her kid-free, Sunday trips to the casinos more than keeping me from my father's wrath. But, whatever. Fast forward.

As a teenager, I, honest to God, wasn't sure I was going to make it out the other end alive. It wasn't because of friends or people in high school. It was completely my home life. My mom was a horrible mother to me. When she wasn't busy calling me a bitch or reminding me how I ruined her life because I was born, she sat back and allowed my brother and sister to treat me like shit. They stole every dime I didn't keep in my pocket for drugs (sister) or alcohol (brother). Neither one of the kids worked a job until they were at least 18, I started working at 15. I'll save the rest for another blog post, but you get my drift. Fast forward.

Not too long after entering adulthood, I met my latest battle, infertility. I am at a waiting point in my life right now. It's pretty obvious, as we near the five year mark, I'm going to need treatments to get a baby. But, NYEBoy is barely into grad school for his PhD, which means we have quite a few years ahead of us before we will have the extra for treatments. I feel torn. Torn because graduation day is so fucking far away, at least a solid five years. Can you imagine me being a bitter infertile blogger, at the ten year mark? I quiver at the thought. Then, you have the other side. The, oh look, five years to spend together, alone. You'll miss it when you have kids, side. I love NYEBoy dearly, don't get me wrong. I love spending time together. But, isn't it okay for me to want to fast forward this time, so I am closer to my dream of motherhood?

NYEBoy would never say it, but I know he wishes I would just be satisfied, until it happens. I've tried to explain it to him as best as I can in man-terms. Say someone told you that you couldn't get your PhD for five years. But, even once the five years are up, you aren't sure how soon you will be able to get it. It could be a year from then, two years from then, ten years from then, or possibly even, never. Would you still love me if you didn't get your PhD? Yes. Don't I make you happy, even if you don't have your PhD? Of course. But there would still be something missing in your life, a PhD. Exchange you for me, me for you, and PhD for baby, and you get my lame ass attempt at infertility in man terms.

If you take infertility out of the equation, my life, at this moment, isn't so bad. I have a guy who loves me a lot. I stay at home, without kids, because he told me, if that is what I wanted and it will make me happy, then, fine. But, yet, I find myself wishing I could hit the fast forward button again. Not to fast forward through the good times NYEBoy and I will have, but to fast forward through the emptiness infertility brings. I wish he understood the void. But, then again, maybe it's good he doesn't. He gets mad when I say this, because he thinks I am calling him naive, but I'm not.

Is it so wrong to want to press that button, right now? Have you ever wished you had a fast forward button?

Wheel of Fortune

♫♪♫♪♫♪ Dun, nuh, dun, nuh, nuh, nuh ♫♪♫♪♫♪

Welcome to Wheeeeelllll offfff Forttuunnneeee!!

Our first category is Life.

Vanna, I'll take a H.






Pat, I would like to solve the puzzle. -- CHILDLESS!

What's my prize?


[I got this lovely gut puncher while trying to comment on someones blog today. Yes life, I get it. I'm childless. Thanks for the reminder.]

Show & Tell - 1st Trip To Universal Studios

I just wanted to share a few pictures from my trip to Universal Studios last month. It was a blast. Of the ones we rode on, my favorites were probably The Hulk, Dueling Dragons, and Simpsons. I even had my 70 year old grandma on The Mummy. I also shot the most aliens from our cart on Men In Black.







Don't forget to vote for Stirrup Queen and see what everyone else is sharing.

Got BlogHer?

Are you going to BlogHer?

I was thinking about going, but not sure. I don't feel blog-worthy enough to go. I imagine myself feeling out of place, not known enough. I'm not a professional blogger. I don't have any college, much less a B.A., M.F.A., or PhD in English, Spanish, or anything else. I'm lucky if I remember to include a noun and verb. I like to throw comma's in there like bacon bits. Just to add flavor, so you think I know what I'm doing. But, I really don't.

So, are you going?

Did You Know?

I want ice cream.

I've been craving it. I caved two nights ago. But, tonight, I drove by Chick-fil-a. I was proud, sort of. It's been two hours and I'm regretting it.

Anyone going to bring me some ice cream? Jen? Anyone?

A New Challenge

[Click the banner to visit my other blog.]

What in the hell have I got myself into?

Excuse the belly, it's the only way I can hold myself accountable.

Infertile Egg Donors

Can anyone direct me to information about being an egg donor?
Or better yet, being an infertile egg donor?

Am I The Only One?

...with my tree still up?

In my defense, I threw the box away when we were putting it up because I thought I would get a storage bag.

Now, I just need to find a place that still sells the bags.

Extreme Parenting

I was watching 20/20 tonight, it was about Extreme Parenting. I was interested to see how they would portray an infertile. You know, cause we're all just so fucking crazy and about to blow at any moment.

The first segment was about childbirth's best kept secret. At first I thought they were playing the wrong video, it looked more like amateur porn. A woman, I'll call her Jane, outside under a tree, in water, having an orgasm while Tarzan kisses her and pours water all over her. What? No penis shot? Waiiiit for it. Oh, right, it's not a porn after all. It's actually something called orgasmic birthing. Close your eyes, pull it out, and I will bet five bucks you won't be able to tell the person you're actually listening to is having a baby. SURPRISE! It's the best kept secret folks, just don't tell anyone. And they call us crazy.

They also talked about natural, at home, no doctors needed birthing. I'm all for birthing naturally, but I wouldn't go as far to say you should do it, too. I would strongly suggest having a midwife and a back up plan, though. And if your high risk? Forget about it. Of course women did it natural, at home, with no medical professionals back in the day. But, I'm sure women and infants were at a higher risk of dying, too.

You know people are going to be talking about extreme breastfeeding. It's awesome if you can breast feed, but can anyone really give me a healthy reason a 5, 6, 7, 8, or 9 year old need to be breastfed? The thought of the 12 year old vividly remembering begging his mom for some of her nummies almost makes cringe. You know he's going to remember them in his teen years at this point, and to be honest, that's gross. And, the one 9 year old wishes she could still do it? I just don't get it. Vanilla ice cream, anyone? Or better yet, titty shots? After the husband giggled he wanted to get in the queue, I had visions of him licking Hershey's syrup on the back of his hand and taking a swig of titty milk. Mmm Mmm, Good! Who's next?

Serial surrogates was interesting. One lady did it the do-it-yourself style. She invited couples over for hor d'oeuvres, the male gave a sample, she pulled out the turkey baster, and nine months later she popped your kid out. Okay, y'alls kid, cuz it's half hers, but you can keep it. All was fun and games until one of the children ended up not being the guy from the dinner party's child, it was actually hers and her boyfriend's. But, since they didn't keep the receipt and it was over thirty days old, they decided to keep it. Maybe they'll re-gift him. Oh, and Mrs. DIY holds the world record for surrogacy. But, the runner up, did it the professional way. She always used a medical clinic and never used her own egg. Obviously they come from different sides of the railroad tracks.

And what would a show about Extreme Parenting be without those damn reborns? On one hand, my heart broke for those that were infertile and collecting those life like dolls, but on the other hand, what-the-fuck? Oh and silly them, why don't they just adopt? Ya know, cuz that's left for you folks that can't have kids.

The most profound moment of the entire show came when the guy said "A mother's job is to work herself out of a job". I stopped and looked at NYEBoy in silence. I stood up and said "That's it! I'm not fighting to be a Mom any more. I'm buying me a fucking reborn and going to school to be something. Why cry now if I'm going to be laid off after 18 years any way"? He smiled, and replied that the schooling sounded great, but if I got a reborn he would commit me to an institute.

On second thought, this stay-at-home-infertile gig sounds more relaxing.

2009 Sucks, So Far

Please don't let this mean this year is going to suck. I am stressed the fuck out.

My website host gave me a renewal notice a month ago. I emailed several times with no response. I even began calling. My account expired three days ago, which automatically gets locked up. So, after being with them for over seven years, this is the thanks I am getting. All my files are locked and I can't work.

There is a new law that has been passed recently which may put me out of business in the resale of children's clothing. We're still waiting to see if lawmakers will fix this. It takes effect in Feb.

A few nights ago I was having an infertile moment and NYEBoy just didn't get it. He said "Baby, how old are you"? I could have strangled him. I told him my age just means I get to suffer longer. I know I shouldn't expect him to get it, but fuck, I wish he did. Maybe it's a good thing he doesn't though. At least I only have to worry about my emotional well being, not his.

My mom is still down playing the whole Thugboy situation. Whatever. They don't deserve A and A doesn't deserve to be treated like this.

A New Year With New Beginnings, Take Two

I enjoyed doing this last year, to compare to this year. So, why not try it again?

The categories:
Things you learned this year
People you met
Things you don't want to take with you into 2009
Things you want to hold close as you pass into 2009
Things you're looking forward to in 2009
Things that were life changing in 2008
Things you hope to accomplish by the end of 2009

Now you can either give two answers for each category OR you can choose two from that list and give seven answers. Feel free to do this, too.

Things you learned this year
* NYEBoy is the most amazing man I have ever met.
* I survived another year as an infertile.

People you met
* Strangely enough, I don't think I really met anyone IRL new.

Things you don't want to take with you into 2009
* My Weight
* My Disorganization

Things you want to hold close as you pass into 2009
* My family
* My sanity

Things you're looking forward to in 2009
* My business growing.
* To see what surprises are in store.

Things that were life changing in 2008
* The move from Tall@hasse
* NYEBoy

Things you hope to accomplish by the end of 2009
* A successful at home business.
* A healthier me.

I also want to give a huge thanks to WiseGuy for the Your Blog Is Fabulous award. My five addictions are Blogs, Shopping, TV, TTC, and Coke.