Good Days and Bad Days;, or I'm A K-Mart Reject But My Son Still Likes To Hug Me

I'm still job hunting, and it sucks. I don't really need a job, but I want one. I want more purpose and meaning in my life, and extra money never hurts. Honestly, I want the extra money so I can spoil my kid and buy myself some clothes that fit. Mine have shrunk while hanging in the closet, and it's depressing. I also want to be able to surprise my husband with a video game once in a while. I mean, it's not really a surprise if I tell him to give me some money so I can buy him a video game. Anyway...

I applied for a position at my local K-Mart. I'm not a huge fan of the place, but the employee discount would be awesome - especially around Trey's birthday and Christmas. I applied to be a cashier/customer service person. I know how to make change correctly, and have been doing it since I was in elementary school. I also have retail sales experience as well as experience in an office setting. I worked in the Mayor's office for a summer job in high school, and I worked at J.C. Penney's for a year after I graduated high school.

I spent almost an hour looking up phone numbers and addresses for my previous places of employment, filling out the online app, and the following questionnaire. Hell, I was even nice enough to take the post-application survey for them. I got an e-mail from Sears Holdings, LLC (they bought K-Mart) not 20 minutes later, telling me they appreciated me taking the time to apply to the job, but they were seeking more qualified candidates. What the *insert expletive here*?!? I know high school kids who were employed at K-Mart! Come on! Anyway, it was a bummer, and I was depressed for a few hours because I'm now a K-Mart reject.

Last night, my son posted something on Facebook that made my heart swell with pride. Our Indianapolis Fox affiliate, Fox 59, is feeding the animals at the Indianapolis Humane Society. For every 5000 fans they get, Fox 59 will buy food for ALL animals at the shelter for one month. 15,000 new fans = 3 months of food, etc. My son is 12 (almost 13) years old, and he's such a softie when it comes to animal. This is what he posted on Fox 59's FB wall last night: "Yey, I helped the animals but that's the right thing to do Isnt it?" Please ignore all spelling and grammatical errors. He's 12, and it was right before he had to go to bed. I, of course, posted a status about how proud I was of Trey, and told people to go to Fox 59's wall to read the post. I got some great positive feedback, which made me feel like I'm doing a good job as a parent.

Earlier this evening, I told Trey I saw his post and I was proud of him. I told him I didn't want to risk embarrassing him by posting "Mom notes" on his FB wall. He told me it wouldn't have embarrassed him, then told me a story about what happened at lunch at his school today. One of his friends asked Trey if he let his mom hug him. Trey said "Of course I let my mom hug me. Sometimes I need a hug, and hugging my mom makes me feel better." Then Trey hugged me in the kitchen while I was cooking dinner. I damn near cried.

I don't feel like a K-Mart reject anymore, but I do feel pretty damn good about my parenting skills.

10 Random Things

This made the rounds on Facebook last year, and I dutifully contributed when I was tagged. However, I censored myself a little. Okay, a lot. My mom is my Facebook friend, and I don't think she needs to know all my secrets. And it probably would have embarrassed the hell out of her, anyway. I think this one will probably be rated PG-13. This will be a looong post, because I'm extremely wordy. I type how I talk - lots of commas and ellipses. That was a warning.

1. I love Ramen noodles, but not the way you think. Right now, I'm eating uncooked Ramen noodles right out of the package. I sometimes crunch them up and sprinkle them over salad. I use the flavoring packet in other recipes. My pantry currently contains 2 chicken, 4 beef, and 4 chicken picante flavoring packets. Chicken picante is my new favorite flavor.

2. I have never been stung by a bee, hornet, wasp, etc...so I don't know if I'm allergic to bee stings. I don't want to be stung, because I've heard it hurts like hell. Therefore, I do the "get away from me, damn insect" dance when one gets too close.

3. In November, my cousin told me she thought I was an alcoholic and my husband needed to send me to rehab. What the what? She said every time she went out with me and my group of friends, I always got so drunk I threw up and had to be taken home early. I didn't have the heart to tell her I don't really care for her because she gave custody of her only child to his paternal grandparents, and she's made no attempt to contact the g'parents or the kid in years. Instead, I isolated myself from my friends and didn't drink alcohol for almost 3 months. I didn't even drink at home, which was something I rarely did anyway because my son doesn't like when people drink around him. One day, I said "Screw this. I know I'm not an alcoholic and I miss my friends. Screw what my cuz thinks." Oddly enough, this was also the 15th day in a row my cousin had posted a FB status about being drunk or drinking alcohol.

4. I've been told I'm too nice. I'm not necessarily a doormat, but I tend to go with the flow and don't state my own opinion often enough. My husband and best friend tell me I'm nice to a fault, and another friend told me "That's another reason why we love ya". I've been incredibly snarky for the last week, and my husband asked me to stop being a smart ass and blamed my attitude on an impending visit from "Aunt Flow". I can't win for losing.

5. I was considered a nerd, geek, etc when I was in high school. I was near the top of my class grades wise, I kept the same boyfriend for almost 3 years, I was in the marching band, and I was into anime and role playing. You know, Dungeons and Dragons? Man, I loved it. It required creativity, and I was all about that sort of thing. My boyfriend at the time introduced me to it. He was an abusive prick, but I'm thankful. If he wouldn't have introduced me to anime, I wouldn't have had a reason to type "Robotech" into Google. I wouldn't have found Robotech.com, I wouldn't have met cool people, and I wouldn't have flown to Los Angeles to hang out with them. I saw the ex-boyfriend a couple of years ago and thanked him for all that. I was drunk, and I hadn't seen him since 1995. I still hang out with his sister and his ex wife.

6. I love the Lego video games. Yeah, I'm still a geek. I own every Lego video game except Lego Rock Band, and I'll have it as soon as I buy a guitar controller for my Xbox 360 or Wii. I've had Lego Indiana Jones 2 for over a month and I still haven't beat it yet, even with cheat codes. Dammit.

7. I'm kind of an anti-girl. I don't care for "chick flicks". Pink and purple are my two least favorite colors. I throw a fit when I see a woman wearing a pink football jersey, because I know of no NFL teams who wear pink jerseys on the field all season. I have a perfectly good wedding dress hanging in my closet. It's white with a long train and adorned with pearls, sequins, and beading in a star pattern. I love stars, and I thought this was the wedding dress for me. I planned on wearing sparkly Chuck Taylors with the dress, and I didn't give a damn what anybody thought about it. I had planned 2 weddings with an ex-boyfriend, and it stressed me out so bad I had to go on Zoloft and Ativan. Neither wedding happened, of course. When Ryan and I got married, I wore a black Chinese dress I bought at a Chinese restaurant for $25. We got married at the county courthouse, and all of the ladies there oohed and aahed over my dress. Maybe I can wear the expensive white dress if Ryan and I ever decide to renew our wedding vows.

8. I want to have a baby, but my husband doesn't. This is the cause of many fights at Casa Luzadder. Ryan and I were together for 6 months before we got married, and we talked about many baby-related subjects. What we would name a kid, where the baby's room would be, etc. That being said, I didn't think he was opposed to the idea. My son Trey is 12 years old, almost 13. I know many women who had a child early in adulthood, then had another child later in life. One of my friends has a 17 year old and a 6 year old, for example. My husband is totally anti-baby. Had I known this before we got married, it might have been a deal breaker. I now refuse to go to his family gatherings because there are lots of babies present. My 43 year old sister in law is pregnant, and I'm totally jealous. I hate walking near the baby aisle in a store, and will avoid it whenever possible. I do okay around older kids, like my 6 year old niece, but I get severely depressed when I'm around a baby for more than a few minutes.

9. I'm addicted to Twitter. I post weird and random stuff, and I could care less. I follow many celebrities, but I never reply or otherwise interact with them. I think it's kind of stalkerish to hound a celebrity, and I don't want the rejection if they don't reply to me. I mentioned something about Twitter when I was talking to my mom the other day, and she asked me whose "twats" were the most interesting. After cleaning up the mess I made when Diet Mountain Dew spewed out my nose from laughing so hard, I explained that posts were called "tweets". My mom is allergic to technology, and is almost always good for a laugh. Mom is my best friend, and I love her to pieces. Speaking of Twitter, I have received 38 tweets since I started typing this.

10. I wanted to go to college to be a writer, specifically a sports journalist. I wanted to write for Sports Illustrated, but I would have settled for writing about the local high school basketball team. I was accepted to a few schools, but I didn't go. At all. I went to work instead, and Trey was born a few years later. I'm 34 years old and I didn't go to college. No wonder I can't find a job. I have no idea why a person needs a 4-year degree to work in a call center, but they do around here. My husband keeps telling me "It doesn't matter if you have a degree or not. Apply anyway." Okay, then why does a potential employer put that in a job description or education requirements if it's not needed? If I apply to that job, and it comes down to me or a person with a degree, they're probably going to pick the person with the degree. Bummer.

After reading this, I've decided I have an unhealthy fear of rejection. And I now have 47 unread tweets.

The Thing On My Face

When I was in high school, I had nearly flawless skin. Like, maybe 3 or 4 noticeable pimples in four years. After Trey was born, my hormones went crazy and I started getting acne. Not just small pimples, but giant red things as well. I didn't get the giant red things very often, maybe two or three times a year, and I took care of them at home.

A pimple sprung up a couple of months ago, and I didn't think much of it. "Aunt Flow" was due to visit a couple of days later, so I chalked it up to that and went about my business. 6 weeks later, I woke up one morning and the thing was freakin' huge. Like, the size of a marble. I didn't try to pop it or anything like that, so I just slathered it with salicyclic acid zit remover stuff in a tube I had here at the house. It didn't go away, but it didn't get bigger either.

My parents started riding my ass to get it looked at by a doctor, claiming it could be an ingrown hair, a boil, or something even ickier. I blew them off at first, but...this past Saturday, they rode my ass and dug in with spurs. I thought about how cancer runs in my family - my dad's sister, my mom's dad, and a few not so closely related relatives - and I got scared. I told them I would call my doc on Monday. Last night, I told my husband I wanted to go to the emergency care facility (aka Doc in a Box) to get the big nasty looked at. I asked him to drive me there this morning, and he agreed.

Now, I'm a wuss when it comes to pain. I gave birth without any pain killing drugs, and I got my belly button pierced while stone-cold sober, but I'm really a wuss. I hate needles. They terrify me to the point of throwing up. I freaked out when I had to have cortisone shots IN MY NOSE a few years ago, so I haven't been to the ENT doctor since.

The doctor who treated me this morning was the same one who diagnosed Trey with the pig flu back in October, and he's a nice guy. The dude is probably around my dad's age (early 60's) and very grandfatherly. He told me I had an abscessed cyst on my face, took Ryan and I into a treatment room, and began to prepare the necessary tools. I thought I would be nice and warn Dr. Papaw of my aversion to needles. While I was doing so, he stuck the needle filled with a local anesthesia into my face. Cool trick, Dr. Papaw!

I won't go into gory detail about the procedure, but it was gross. Let's just say it felt like a dam bursting when he opened up The Big Nasty. 20 minutes later, Ryan and I were on our way to get some breakfast. Breakfast was hilarious. I couldn't open my mouth very far without breaking the incision open, and kept dropping my biscuits and gravy on my Notre Dame hoodie. I was starving, and I had to take small bites and eat slowly. That pissed me off.

The local anesthetic wore off a couple of hours ago, and the incision doesn't feel so good right now. I'm eating Tylenol like it's going out of style and wearing a huge gauze & tape bandage on the lower right hand side of my face. Trey is gonna freak when he gets home from school in an hour, and probably not let me out of his sight for the rest of the evening.

I'll get to the point now: If there's something wrong, no matter how insignificant it seems, GET YOURSELF TO A DOCTOR! My big nasty zit could have turned into something much, much worse if I put it off longer than I did. By something worse, I mean it could have ruptured on it's own (which would have been excruciating pain), got bigger, or it could have given me blood poisoning. I know not many (if any) people read my blog, but I like the ones who do. Please stick around a little longer, m'kay?