Happy 17th Baberella (eh eh eh)

I meant to go house hunting and ended up with a tattoo. That is so my life. That is strangely typical. I don't plan these things. Every piercing or slight body modification (even drastic hair colour and cut) has been spur of the moment. I don't think things over, I don't like to doubt myself. It's been this way for so long and I realized it at a pretty young age. Probably in the seventh grade when I cut my hair off. Truth be told it was probably way back in the first grade when my long black hair down my back was clipped to a spikey horrific mess due to head lice. I guess it's a survival thing. I decided a long time ago that there would be no regrets. It's not worth mulling over the small insignificants. Hair grows, piercings close, tattoos can be hidden (if you're lucky). But, they remind of us of who we were in a moment in time. Maybe I'll carry a piece of being twenty with me forever. Yeah, yeah I don't need body ink for that but I need a physical reminder. Like a daily pinch that reminds me, "Hey you fool, slow down, rock out, breathe, and let it go." Anyways the damn thing itches like hell. And no, it didn't hurt. it was a good pain for the most part, annoying as fuck at times though.

I'm thoroughly enjoying my new job babysitting. I like to think of it more as a nanny position. Although, the senile dog club likes to pee all over the floor when I'm alone with them. I cleaned up puppy pee 3 times in an hour today. I'd think it was in spite if they weren't so cute in their poor old age. And there is the small problem of the one child who likes to throw things at me when we play. Usually right in my face. Blocks, puzzle pieces, used tissues....it all goes at Frankee. I can discipline but he's pretty persistent. He's not bad, we're just testing each other still.

Happy 17th Birthday Baberella. It's my little sister's birthday and if I don't write about her she might shank me in my sleep. What can I say about the middle child that is my teenage sister? Well she's incredibly stubborn and terribly aggressive. She's the only four-year-old I've ever known that could take on any elementary school punk, toothless and all. I guess she's pretty smart even though we all know she's riding the coat tails of some pretty exceptional older siblings. All lies. She does it on her own I guess. Most of my teachers are gone now anyways. ;-) She's tough, she bounces back and she knows how to stick up for herself. I envy her ability to put her head ahead of her heart which I need to practice still. She's probably one of the only people in the world I can be completely myself around (the others being siblings and "lucky" friends) she understands my weird sense of humor, and I hers. She lets me gush on about things that she has no interest in whatsoever if only to stand and pretend to listen because she knows no one else will. When we're happy and feeling like bunnies on E we jump around the kitchen to Meatloaf and Billy Joel blarring away for the entire neighborhood to despise. She's one of two people I would let see myself loose control like that. (The other being another sister who deserves her own paragraph in her own time). We have photo shoots from time to time doing ridiculousness like squirrel hunting and hiding in giant BC trees. If you have a particular favourite small child keep them away from her. She will surely win them over in a matter of time. They will forget you even exist and simply talk about how special she is to you or just to themselves. I have seen this. So now you must know how wonderful she is because we all know that children are the most honest creatures in the world. Their purity makes them incapable of lies. Unlike boys and telemarketers. Happy Birthday Gaja Face. You're like the cheese to my macaroni, if I even really liked mac and cheese. It's hypothetical w/e. I like you a lot, you know, if "like" meant crazy-mad-love.

F bomb out


Much "like"