Stop bitching.

I'm 30. Thirty years old. Not 15. Not 18. I'm 30. And I'm still breaking out. What.the.fuck? I thought I grew out of zits.

And what the eff is up with this weather? I want my November-type weather.

And I better get me some white Christmas action this year. No ifs, ands or buts. I want snow. Lots and lots of snow.

...

I.
got.
nothing.

It's like swallowing shards of glass...

Strep Throat. Dun dun duuunnnn.

I spent the majority of my evening in the ER with Cam. He came down with sudden chills, a temp of 102 and he was red all over. I was sure he had the dreaded Swine Flu...I'm sorry 2009 H1N1. So I waited with baited breath as they took the giant cotton swab they had just used to poke his brains with to the testing area. Aaaannnddd....nope, not the flu. Phew. Maybe pneumonia? Maybe. But the nurse practitioner insisted we do the strep test. So she shoved another q-tip through the back of his throat. Gag city. And before the timer could even go off, it was a super big positive for strep. We didn't even bother with the chest x-ray because the antibiotics for the strep will knock out the pneumonia anyway.

So one condescending triage nurse, one talkative nurse and one super sweet nurse practitioner later and we were on our way. To the containment room we go.

Wait...what?

It's been a week for things that stump me. Let me share:

• A. Uggs with capris. It just isn't right. In any circumstance.
  
• B. The guy who sits next to me in class. I'm convinced he has some kind of fiery crotch disease. He squirms, itches his crotch, squirms some more and then pops some pills. And then if he gets too squirmy he gets up and leaves class. Maybe to itch that fiery crotch.
  
• C. Have my kids been living in a cave? Cam told me yesterday that his friend gets to ride in a "Tusseedo" to a wedding. A what? Oh. A tuxedo. Then I had to explain what that was. Who doesn't know what a tuxedo is? My kids apparently.
• D. The unbelievable amount of parents that don't buckle their kids into the car...or themselves for that matter. Who does that? Buckle up! Click it or ticket, kids.
• E. Diet soda. Why does it have to taste like ass? All I ask is for some Mt. Dew that isn't filled with calories. But...it's not even worth it to drink that ass-like phosphorus green diet crap.
• F. Where am I going to get my music from? Being a student has totally cramped my spending allowance lifestyle. I can't even buy music anymore. And I'm in a panic. I need music. But I'm too paranoid to do it illegally.
  
• G. And finally-Algebra. I give in. I quit. I'm going to have to go back to the beginning. My ass is going to be sitting in Intro to Algebra next semester. Bastard.
  

You stink.

Ugh. The stairwell here at school smells like B.O. How does that happen? You'd have to be one rank individual to leave that kind of stench wafting behind you. I hope I don't run into this person today. I'll puke on him/her.

Maths

It's no secret that I don't like the maths. But it's more than just a hatred that consumes me like the fiery pits of hell. I mean...it doesn't even make sense. And really, answer me this: when am I going to use it in real life? When is the cubed root of x-7b ever going to apply? I'll tell you when--never. It's not. It hasn't yet. And it's not going to. Evar. And what 4th grader is going to ask me that? None.

Eff you, Maths.

A blog? A blog!

Ok. So. Kim says she misses me. And my blog. So she insisted I start blogging again. She's putting a lot of pressure on me. I'm not sure I can handle it all. But blog I will. Oh yes...blog I will.