No Less Than the Trees

Begging for forgiveness.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 16:36:00 +0000

I have been a terrible blogger. Forgive me.

I won't go in to the laundry list of excuses, but I am trying to get back on the ball.

As my first effort, I will leave you with this. I made it today. Don't leave me alone with fabric and a needle.

Occupy Wall Street

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 13:41:00 +0000

I posted this on twitter, but I am so in awe of what hypocrites these protesters are.

Where do you think Wall Street gets it's money?
From those very people that are protesting.

They are all consumers. Big time from the looks of all their iphones and ipads and brand name clothes &
do not even get me started on all the celebrities jumping on the band-wagon of this movement.
Are they serious with that?

You are going to protest about greed and putting money back into the 'main stream'
Stop buying big-business products.
The celebrities that are there- seriously, get on with that Kanye West. You can't say shit about greed.

It baffles me that these people are doing this. And now they are protesting homes? That is only going to make matters worse.

What are they honestly trying to accomplish? An equalization of power? They wouldn't really like that. Too much responsibility. The top 50% already pays 96% of the taxes, and I'm confident they aren't willing to carry that burden. Cut spending? WHERE. Our deficit is up so much you would literally have to cut damn-near every.single. social program and the military to balance the budget.

What is the solution?

Sometimes you find it.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 12:59:00 +0000

This was on today's Post Secret.
Class is starting so I don't have time to post in length, but I like this very much.
And I agree whole-heartily

Large Black and moos.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 17:22:00 +0000

Cows. Moo. I feel like I have been writing a lot about them lately, or thinking about writing a lot about them lately, but I seriously could not resist letting the world have access to the knowledge that THIS SHIT HAPPENS.

Beau and me took a wrong turn the other night in a small hick-town that TLC won't even come to film things in because of a)how small it is b)it's history with racism. Points if you know what town Im talking about. Points and a cookie. A BATCH OF COOKIES.

Either way we almost slam into a herd of cows in the middle of the road. Large. Large Cows. Large Black Cows. Large Black Cows that were everywhere. All over this guys front lawn, his ditch, meandering into the road. LARGE COWS MOOING EVERYWHERE.

Beau being a rancher at heart (He has never lived on a ranch, but the boy can dream) Stopped to ask the lone man standing in the midst of this if he needed help getting them all back in their pen. There are like 50 of them.

NOPE. This guy with all seriousness is like "Oh they're like my dogs. I just let them out to run around and graze" Me and beau fall into a fit of hysterical laughter, the man didn't get it.

Beau asked to pet one. The man said yes. I said no.

Reading about it doesn't do it justice.

But as we left Beau rolled the windows down and with such enthusiasm pronounced "MOOOOOO"

so um yeah....moo

-Nikki

PS. This reminds me of a time when beau and his pal were driving down this street at like 2am. They threw a bottle out the window (i do not condone this) and hit a cow. It had escaped, they didn't know it was there, and they hit it with a bottle. It came at them.

Thought Process

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 16:13:00 +0000

Texas is weird.
Southern Women are charming
Our Accents inspire admiration...and giggles.
Coming to Texas is like going to a different country.
I have terrible writers block so I am just going in short bursts trying to get it back again.
It=writing ability.
I cannot come up with anything to write about.
I am now rambling.
I need to stop.
But I haven't figured out what to write yet.
I hate traffic.
I am addicted to cough drops.
I went into full beast mode this morning at garage sales, and got awesome shiz.
I am really pale
It's only going to get worse through winter
Self tanner makes me orange
Orange is a strange word
I live in Orange Texas.
Texas is weird.
This has no point
I need to do homework
I have to read 3 chapters of Government
I have to make a outline for my next speech in Public Speaking
I need to read four chapters in Theatre
Why did I type "3" but write out "four"
Why do I even notice that
la.la.la.
I apologize if you are wasting your life right now.
WritersblockWritersBlockWritersBlock
I feel like doing something completely irrational, with no purpose but to say 'i wanted to'
I have to go get a birthday present for the 2 year old's birthday party.
What do 2 year olds like
2. two..
two. too. to. through. threw.
moo.
like a cow!
I like cows.
I want a cow.
A giant one.
Actually a tiny one. one the size of a dog. They have those now.
I want one.
I need to finish my Thing in a Jar.
I am procrastinating the simplest step.
I am procrastinating. Period.
This is boring.
EFFFF YOU WRITERS BLOCK.

Sorry
-Nikki

This will make me no friends im sure.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 20:06:00 +0000

Being Politically correct is HORSESHIT.

-If you are "vertically challenged"- imma call you a midget.
-If you are "horizontally accessable" - imma call you a slut.
-If you are "differently abled" - Imma probably call you handicapped
-BTW I say retard. But I don't mean it horribly, I just refuse to be PC. Because it all means the same thing.
-I'm not going to call my dog my "companion species." Shes a dog. A pet. Yup..im above her. And just because you can punt her across a room doesn't disqualify her from being a dog. She will still bite your ass.
-Certain pieces of work, are better than others
-There are people prettier than you.
-If you are African American// a person of color- Imma call you black. Because chances are, you don't have dual citizenship with Africa. Hell you probably weren't born there. You probably haven't even been there. So you are black. And I am white. I don't ask to be a "European-Native-American" Because im white. and American. That is all.
-White people aren't the only racists. It applies to anyone buddy.
-My hamburger, will remain a hamburger. I won't call it processed Cow Carcass. Mainly because I like thinking my meat grows on trees. thankyouverymuch
- Women. Not Womyn.
- I will say "Hey your gay" Because if your not, don't get offended. and if you are- you are gay. it's what you are, suck it up. Straight//gay. I dont give a flying flit which, but im not going to cater to your every whim because your sensitive.
-Most Affirmative action is discriminatory against whites. and asians.
- I will judge your culture for a history of cannibalism//sacrifice if you are going to judge mine by slavery.
-Obama is just as white as he is black
-Disability is too easily handed out. Me or anyone else shouldnt have to pay for your drug//alcohol habits// your add which wont allow you to keep a job.
-You should stop being lazy. And stop bitching about not getting things, because you have to chase after what you want darling.
-Your kids are probably annoying.
-A swat on the butt teaches kids
-Circumsision is not your choice for another parent. Also- I don't want to hear about your choice.
-Rich people should not have to pay more taxes.
-Your conspiracy theory is probably false. Sorry to take that away from you
-A pirate will kick your ninja's ass any day.
-You do not know everything

If I have personally offended you, oh well.. If not- good on you.
But if I did- send me a comment. All comments go directly to my email which pings my phone. SO if you wanna piss me off immencely, ping me late at night. a lot. a lot a lot. I don't wake up to one or two. =]

Go Repent Ye Young Sinner

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 17:31:00 +0000

True Story.

Waiter- "Sinner"

Me- "You make the baby Jesus cry."

Waiter- "No I don't, I'm Catholic"

Beau- "Go Repent Ye Young Sinner"

W- "You don't have to repent when you are as close to your priest as I am"

B-"Yeah, but didn't you ever get tired of waking up next to strange priests?"

W-" They were never strange! We got to know eachother very well throughout the night. THANKYOUVERYMUCH"

Me- "Know...as in the biblical sense?"

Who.the.hell. has conversations with their waiter like that?

In other news- I recently became a man

I had a beard too before I..err....shaved it off. Yeah thats right, shaved. Because I'm a man.

xoxo
-Nikki

Dear Body. I'm trying.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 14:13:00 +0000

Dear Hair: I love your out of control crazy curls. I am so sorry I used to try to tame you with gel, with straighteners, with nasty products that didn't let you be fabulous. You hold so much personality, and are so easy to style, you let me laugh at girls who have to get ready 2+ hours in advance, because you are always ready to go. Thank you so much. You are my favorite. (just don't tell everyone else)

Dear eyes: I adore the color of you two. You should know I always do my best to make you the center of attention on my face. You allow me to visualize all the absurd people, places, and things i associate with in life and let me see the awe-inspiring sights of the world.

Dear ears: You re small, like moms. I like it. You do your job and go above the line of duty with all the blaring noises I've subjected you too. Sorry, the concerts were too good to pass up. I appreciate you dearly.

Dear nose: You are like a button, and I am very happy with you. You fit with my face well and i have no desire to ever change you. Stay sweet don't change xoxo

Dear lips: I never really give you the credit you deserve. I am always piling on chapstick, lipstick, lip gloss, chapstick, lipliner, chapstick. chapstick. chapstick. chapstick. I keep good care of you, and its because i love you and hate when youre in pain. You are the perfect size, shape, and plumpness. I am just getting the hang of highlighting your place on my face properly. give me time. Love you =]

Dear face: You make some of the strangest contortions i or anyone else has ever seen. You are so emotive with every tweak, and i find it highly entertaining to make 'faces'. Everyone always comments on the silly ways you take shape. The single freckle splat straight onto the middle of my right cheek is cute. I have grown extremely fond of it over the years, even making sure I don't cover it too much with makeup. ALSO dear face- You hold makeup extremely well and allow me to always switch things up and be adventurous. Without looking like a clown. And that's good because clowns are terrifying. And then you would look scared. Sad clown wanna kill somebody?

Dear Tattoo: Of course You weren't originally here. But you are here to stay. You mean so much to me. You are so unique and some people don't understand you. It's hard to explain you sometimes, but you are for me. not for anyone else. You should already know how much I love you because I got a needle repeatedly drilled into my skin just so you would be a part of me. And if that's not love I don't know what is.

Dear Hands: You do so much work. Lifting, holding, texting, typing, drawing, coloring, stretching, pulling, tearing. You are almost always dirty. With paint, with dirt, with any sort of random things i get myself into. I paint your nails in vain, and i chew on them mercilessly when I get anxious. You do so much for me, I need to take better pride in you. BTW the single tiny freckle on the left ring finger is adorable. It just joined the family recently, but it's love. It can stay.

Dear Pinkies: You are special and get your own thank you. You are so individual that I can't help but love you. You are the very first thing that mom noticed about me when I was born, and anyone can identify me by you. Even though I can never cover someone's eyes and surprise them. they just run their fingers along you and they instantly know it's me. But I think that's pretty cool too. TruLUV4eva

Dear Tummy: We don't have an awesome relationship. But you are soft, and have given many a small animal and babies a place to rest. I have to be blunt- I am trying to change you. But for now we will have to come to terms.

Dear legs: You poor things. I can't remember a recent time when you haven't been sore. Especially with the recent addition of wearing heels more often. But I love you two. You hold me up and keep on going even when i really don't want to. You climb, and bend, and walk, and skip, and so many more things.

Dear scars: You are each one of many. You each definitely represent adventure, each have a story. Each from a different time in my life. Some are large and have names "Fifth of July" and some of you are barely visible- here's looking at you Theatre door scar. But each of you has a memory, most of them good surprisingly enough. And "fifth of July" I'm sorry. I know you needed stitches. But you re okay. We were too country for that.

Dear large toes: You are weird. In every picture since I was born you have been sticking straight up. And I STILL do that. just habit. It's weird. I'm doing it right now. You know that though...

So dear Body: I love you. I'm Trying. I spend way too much time thinking about all your flaws. My under eye darkness, my pale legs, my small boobs and my tummy..oy.

It would be a lot better if I just stopped. If i took steps to get healthier (which I am) and appreciated the hard work and the good that you do. I love you.

-Nikki. (you) (this is getting complicated.)

You will waste your life reading this.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 15 Sep 2011 19:23:00 +0000

I have not posted a lot lately because absolutely nothing of interest or anything of note has happened.

The most interesting thing has been making speeches, studying, family time, and that's about it. I was told I am a very eloquent speaker, and all my speeches kick ass. So im glad. But seeing as no one is banging on my virtual door to read shit or write about anything in particular it doesnt help me one damn bit.

The most ridiculous thing i have done latelly has been that when traffic was backed up FOR MILES so i left the roadway and drove downhill through the grass onto the feeder. Im daring. Im a badass. It wasn't that steep. I was screaming the entire way.

So yeah. boring. I need to shake things up. NOW.

But until i come up with an idea. i will go back to making speeches, studying, and being a boring blip on earth.

I need hellp!

blip
-Nikki.

My Story of Dealing with Suicide.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 18:55:00 +0000

This week (although it is close to an end) is Suicide Prevention Week.

My dear Uncle Matt commited suicide on May 12, 2010

As grim as it is, I do believe I will write my experience with Suicide. So that maybe someone will see it and not feel so alone, and know that no matter what they feel, see, or experience they too will get through it. I apologize in advance if this upsets some.

Graduation. Sweet Sweet Graduation. That is all that Is on my mind as I sit through another Theatre class impatiently waiting for that golden bell to ring, signaling one day closer to the finish line. My friends and I all crack jokes at the silly underclassman, at our teacher, at everything. My teacher gets a phone call that sends her into her locked office, after moments of "Are you sure?" "Are you positive that's how it happened?" heard through the door, she emerges, sobbing. She states that a close family friend has been shot, and was found dead in his backyard. I comfort her half-heartedly. Moments before the bell rings me and two other friends sneak out the door and head to our cars, absentmindedly chatting on the dramatics that were just displayed. I jokingly comment that shes probably lying, but if it did happen "I feel very sorry for the family"
I buzz home and hop onto Facebook. I start creeping on my older Cousin and see the post "KAT CALL MOM RIGHT NOW" from My Uncles best friend. To which she replied something along the lines of "I tried to call Matt but he wont pick up, mom either"

My stomach dropped. Something just wasn't right. I had to go work the Clavinova for a show down at the Theatre that night so I hopped in the car, thinking of everything I had heard. I got incredibly overwhelmed with grief and called my mom.

-(Sobbing) Mom somethings wrong, somethings not right. I think Uncle Matt Died. I dont' have proof bjust all these things are starting to fit together and worry me, call Aunt Susan. Call Grandpa. Call someone. Please.

Mom- "What? What are you talking about? Calm down. Who died?"

-(hysterical) I DONT KNOW IF ANYONE DIED. I just have this really horrible feeling about Uncle Matt. Please call. And call me back and let me know what is going on. Something is wrong.

Mom- "Okay. I will. Hold on. I love you, I'll talk to you in a few"

- MOM you HAVE to promise me you will actually call me and tell me. Don't worry that I have a show tonight. I would rather know than drive myself crazy wondering. Please promise me you will actually call me. Please. You have to actually call me either way this goes. Please. Promise me mom PROMISE ME.

Mom- "Okay i will Nikki. Let me get off the phone so I can start figuring all this out. I love you, Talk to you soon"
click.

I panicked myself down 16th street. Down Green Avenue. Down every street until I parked on the gravel side of the Orange Community Playhouse. I stayed in the car freaking out until I hear a tiny tap on my window. My friend Bridget, asking whats wrong. I hop out of the car and fall directly into her arms, trying to keep it together and rambling incoheriently about how I think my uncle died. She assures me everything is going to be okay and for a moment I believe her. I want to believe her so very badly. My phone rings. Mom.

-HELLO

Mom-(sniffles) It's true. Uncle matt was found shot in his pool.

-WHAT?!??! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. MOM THIS ISN'T FUNNY, PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE, HE CAN'T BE DEAD, STOP LYING, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, WHAT HAPPENED, OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. oh...my...god...

Mom-They haven't determined yet if it was self inflicted or homicide. Things are leaning toward self inflicted.

-NO THAT ISN'T POSSIBLE. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. WHO WOULD HAVE KILLED UNCLE MATT? EVERYONE LOVED HIM SO MUCH? HE DIdnt have any enemys...did he? who would have done this to him? (sobbing)

Mom- We don't know anything for sure right now. All I know is he was found in the pool, shot.

-NO. omg...mom i have to let you go.

And i fell apart. The few people there see me and hug me. I want no part of it. I ask for some time alone. In the moments that follow all I can think about is how Uncle Matt felt in the last moments of his life? What happened? Did someone come over to rob them, then got in a fight with him then shot him? I imagined his hands up in surrender trying to make the stranger calm down and put the gun down.

The other option isn't even possible. He is too happy, too loved, too amazing, too funny. is...was... I don't want to wrap my head around the new change.

I escape to the pit, where the clavinova lies. The show must go on. I don't remember really anything about it. I stare at the bronze bunny on my ring. Everytime I feel like crying or just giving up I look down at it and focus on keeping it together. Push buttons, Turn knobs, play music, get the job done. Go forward.

I go home. I collapse. The rest of the night is forgotten.

It becomes more evident over the next few days that it is a suicide. No note. No indication (except in retrospect). No reason why. Had he planned it out? Or simply gone temporarily mad. We have nothing. Nothing except broken pieces, a funeral to plan, and questions. A puzzle with missing pieces. I keep trying to pic up the pieces. I keep trying to make it fit. Nothing fits. Nothing makes sense. Nothing..makes..sense.

I continue with school and theatre, school and theatre. I do not remember these days well. Only moments.

I went to my Aunts house. She had to go make funeral arrangements so I along with mom stayed there to answer the phone and pass on information. Everything reminds me of him. Pictures, clothing, flowers, cabinets, animals. Knowing he had touched each thing. Knowing what great thing he did beyond the back wall a day or so before. Mom went and cleaned the pool filters of the eye-glass cleaners that he never didn't have stocked in his pockets were still finding their way into the system, they now make a soggy heap on the countertop.

I decide to boldly circle the pool. Maybe putting myself in his last position, his last airspace, will bring clarity. I hope that it will all come to me. All the pieces of the puzzle will be found, and they will all fit perfectly. I hope that being in that area i will have every answer i need. I hope it is all a joke and when I go to that space he will come back.

Instead I see dark red in the grout..... Pools of dark red.

Could it? n..noNo... It couldnt... the police wrapped up the scene. I soon find out that doesn't include cleaning. I scream. I run as fast as my body will carry me into the house and tell my mother of what I just saw.. She moves with haste to clean it before my aunt finds it, knowing all too well it will not do any good for that scene to be witnessed.

In the following nights I have nightmares about that particular scene.

The funeral is very fitting. A lovely tribute. He is buried with fishing supplies, and a beer can in hand. I know with absolute certain he would love it. I remember his daughter exclaiming that he would be so pissed that she poured that beer on the ground.

It hurts to know where his physical body now lays. Not here with us, but under dirt, metal and satin. I am not quite at peace with it.

---

I am in absolute awe of his wife and daughter. I know they are in pain, but have come through it with absolute grace. I love each of them very much and am proud of the manner they are continuing their lives with.

---
It has been over a year since that day. I'm still trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Still I wonder. Still I drive myself mad over the what ifs and technicalities. More pieces are coming together, but I know the whole struggle is in vain. I know I need to put this game up and move on. And I am getting better at it.

The pain and feeling of loss will never go away. Never fully. But I am still here. I can still tell of the wonderful man I call my Uncle. I am still alive. My heart, though it hurts, is still beating.

<3

The Thunder Monster.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 18:49:00 +0000

So we are getting a light shower here in SETX. Toto apparently doesn't comprehend the light part.

This is what is happening.

This is what she thinks is happening.

THE END OF THE WORLD

Man, I love college

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:11:00 +0000

Well today Kids, we will:

-Teach you how to cook various dishes, and then feed you them
-Learn how to change a dirty diaper. Aw hell thats too easy, lets blindfold you.
-Have a drag show
-Be visited by a stripper
-Play Beer Pong with the teacher
-Have a boob cake with tassles.
-Be highly innapropriate.

Is this real life?

Yes. Yes it is. And it is fabulous.

My contribution was the Drag Show. Because, of course it was.

What in Gay Hell?

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 19:13:00 +0000

I have a speech due tomorrow.

Those two things are related.

<3
Nikki

Things that go bump...all the time.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 19:56:00 +0000

I live in a haunted house. I have accepted this from the time I was small. But it still gives me the heebie jeebies when Toto is chasing something around the house, barking, biting at, and growling at something that I CANNOT SEE. I also have a very handy ghost radar that went off at the same time. Creepy shit yall.

Also on much the same note- me and Beau saw a spirit the other night and it about scared me to death. (no pun) It was one of the most fasinatingly scary things on earth.

Random facts:
*I want to go ghost hunting again.
*Me and Beau met in a cemetary- but im not gonna really touch on that now lol.
*I have seen two spirits in my life. That i knew without a shadow of a doubt that is what i saw.

That is all
Booo! you whore
-Nikki

They dropped it like it was hot.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 20:29:00 +0000

Today marks 5 years of the removal of the title "Planet" from Pluto.

and all I have to say is -WTF NASA

I still consider it a planet. Try and stop me. I will stab you in the left testicular with a sharp moon rock, but try, go ahead. Not a threat- A promise.

But on a serious note- I honestly don't understand why the change was made. It was like that for a while...

It hurts my heart to know that my future children will now have to say "My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine" WTF. NINE WHAT? Way to leave a giant cliffhanger to us all NASA.

NINE PIZZAS 4 LYF
-Nikki

PS!
I decided to go to an outside source, and apparently, I am the only one heartbroken about this.

But to truly test that theory, I took it to the good people at Omegle because that is, after all where the great thinkers of my generation go to answer life's pressing questions.

They didn't fail me.

My bum hurts.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 13:20:00 +0000

Because I just got VIOLATED by my school's bookstore.

$266.86 FOR THREE BOOKS. THREE

That is including two USED ones. And excluding one book that the publisher sent the wrong package for. Which just so happens to be the most expensive book I will have to buy. That one book will be $200 alone y'all! This is ridiculous!

Add that to tuition, regular school supplies, and all the GD fees we 'have' to pay like to use the stupid library. Which is consequently where I am typing this from. I am going to use that money to its fullest. What pisssssessss me off beyond all belief is when The librarians and school admins get on to the student population for using too much paper. I SPENT $200 DOLLARS IN LIBRARY FEES. WE ALL DID. WHERE THE HELL IS THAT MONEY GOING IF NOT TO EFFING PAPER. SO NO. I will not limit how much paper I want to use. I will use all of it if I damn well please. I PAID FOR IT.

UGH!

I need an icepack
-Nikki

Back on my Grind

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 17:58:00 +0000

I solemnly swear to never say that again.
Now that that is out of the way-

My second "official" year in college started this morning bright in shining in the morn at 8. What was I thinking taking a class starting at 8am? I'll tell you what I was thinking taking a class starting at 8am- I had no choice. It's because I procrastinate. Because all later classes were filled. Because this is the only time slot I still had open. Because I had to. Maybe one day when I have a tubed up piece of parchment in my hand will I forgive myself for having to wake up at 6.

My 8 am class is my Intro to Computing class. I think I am really going to like the teacher. I already took this class once but had to drop it because my teacher bored me to tears and she hated me. So I made sure to not get her again. Here's looking at you- Mrs. Jinx. Here's to you for failing me even though you could have made it seem like I was never there at all. And here's to you for hating me because I could look at stumble upon all class long and still make A's on your tests.

Also- I have a Public Speaking class. I am too socially awkward for this shit yall! My teacher's the bomb-diggity even though she did relate us all to eagles. Eagles are huge and I'm pretty sure they could eat me whole. Oh and it's illegal to kill the bald ones. OK so that makes them bad-asses, I'm suddenly more okay being compared to one. She once ran for Congress. The teacher, not the eagle. Because the eagle is me. And I didn't run for Congress.

Government sucks. That's all the nice things I have to say about that class.

A weird thing always happens at the beginning of the school year. Well two. Well a lot but I'll talk about two.
1. I always start out super motivated to stay on top of everything and super organized. this always fails.
2. There's always a crap-ton of people at the beginning. It freaks me out.

And another thing I noticed- Everyone hides behind their cellular devices. :/

No Apple for Mrs. Jinxs!
-Nikki

PSA

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 17:40:00 +0000

My life has been boring lately.
I have a class tonight on how to teach because once again I will be teaching religion. Thatttss right, I am the molder of young minds. I taught my own 1st grade class last year. (Seriously, whooo lets ME teach first graders Catholic Religion by myself! I did pretty good though. Pat on the back to me)Anywho I am not a teacher this year but a helper in 5th grade which is awesome becaue I don't have to do lesson plans. I win.

But that is not the point of this. This the exact polor opposite of what I was just talking about. That is north and this is south.

I am going to just briefly touch on how awkward it is to send or recieve a text message not meant for the other person//me.

I cannot tell you how many times friends have talked shit on people and accidently sent it to them, i have recently had a few friendships dissolve because of that. But screw em its for the better if they were gonna talk mess anyway! I will cut them. Ok not really.

But it's worse when you recieve an *ahem* explicit message from someone and it was NOT MEANT FOR YOUR EYES. Serious, have you seen what acid can do to an eye? thats kind of what mine feel like.

SO TO THE POINT :

PLEASE DOUBLE CHECK YOUR TEXTS BEFORE YOU SEND THEM

My name's Nikki and I approve this message.

Im melting.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 19:23:00 +0000

Man, it is HOT yall!

Getting into a car with 100+ degree weather outside is enough to make my skin crawl away and hide. My leather steering wheel doenst exactly feel nice and cozy on my phalanges.

This is what I have resorted to.

(please excuse my little sausage fingers and my dirty fingernails.)

Yes. That is a pipe cleaner.
No that is not my car. It's Momma Bears. It was behind mine so I drove it instead because quite frankly im lazy.

I had one on each side (10&2) and used that to steer. I looked like I was in charge of a horse-drawn buggy, and it was awesome.

Luckily my steering wheel cooled down five minutes down a back road so the only thing that saw me was a cow. And i swear to Henry, I swear I witnessed that heifer laugh at me.

It is hot it is hot it is hot IT IS HOT
Nikki

The Catfish Whisperer

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 17:45:00 +0000

I touched base on my twitter on what happened a few days ago, but I think it needs a longer explanation. So here it is..How beau became the Catfish Whisperer (an illustrated story)

We were at the river (There are stars in our eyes because we are in LOOVEEEE)

A catfish was swimming down the river. Beau and it locked eyes. It was love at first sight

It swam closer

Then It allowed Beau to pick it up WITH HIS BARE HANDS

He let it go and it swam into the sunset

THE END
And I really wish I was making all of that up.
I saw it
I saw it with my own two eyes.

Beau of course thinks hes big pimpin master of the catfish.

WTF CATFISH-Nikki

We have a Whiner!

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 14:28:00 +0000

For once, I wasn't the poutey one.

Have you ever been to Bucees?
He hasnt. He never even knew it was a real place until we passed 15 billboards for it in our town. The rest of the night he wouldnt shut his pie hole and got all butt hurt because i wouldn't drive 2+ hours at 6pm FOR A GAS STATION

He is still wanting to go to the magical place of the beaver. How in the world did I get into this? It's getting bad.

On a different note- Geocashing is the shiznit. I kinda suck at it but Im getting better! I feel like a pirate going on a secret mission to go treasure hunting. AKA I feel like a badass. yeahhhh buddy!

Give me yer booty or I'll make you walk the plank!
Nikki

My names Nikki and I am a HUGE creeper

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 19:36:00 +0000

So at the risk of appearing more creepy than we all know I really am I have to share that my blog-idol completely just said we can be best friends.

Today=made.

Getting up today was totally worth it.

Santa Claus had a Drug Charge?

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 14:40:00 +0000

I carry a notebook around most everywhere I go. It helps me when I get anxious and upset and it is just handy when I am bored. I love notebooks. I have about a cagillion and eight and almost none of them are full, because I get distracted easily.

Anyway as Beau was laying ill in the hospital bed at the ER I wrote down all my random thoughts (hospitals make me nervous, it was necessary.)
You can see the time progression in how ridiculous I got. I am in no way proud of the state of mind I got into. We were there until 3:00 in the morning! Don't judge to harshly.

Thoughts from the ER

-I LOVE the bitchy lady @ vidor burger-king =) She was completely rude and unnecessary, but entertaining none-the less.

-Why do people bring 3+ people with them to the ER. That is just stupid. and Selfish. Some people could actually use those seats their behemoth sized relatives'booties are in.

- Large amounts of (loud) people make me nervous. Think of something else. Gophers! But gophers get in large groups too. Awwwhhhh shytee.

-Public Service Announcement: If you re over the age of 13 you should NOT be in the Kid zone playing with blocks. Thank you, that is all.

- I wonder if there is a way to sterilize some people without their knowledge. How would you go about that? Slip something into their drinks? Like Roofies? The new date-sterilization trend would dramatically improve this world.

- There needs to be a date sterilization drug.

- How can I trick toto into wearing and liking puppy shoes?

-Trashy people are Trashy.

- Mont. Trash-e-zuma needs to be made. A giant island for all the trashy people to be put on. And once there they can be given the date-sterilization drug and live happily ever after. THE END.

-Beau please stop crying =[

- How many names for calling someone an ass can I come up with?

-No. Flirting with the nurse is not cool, Beau. I do not care how much nicer she is to you because of it!

- Scratch that. Flirt all you want. Cute Doctor =]

-Me: "I wonder what I could use in this room in case zombies make a go for it, we are in a hospital, it would be prime location"
(Doped up) Beau MORE BOTTLES OF MORPHINE. So we don't feel it when we get nibbled on!!! OHH OH OH OHH AND the zolphram! For nausea!

-If I hear that freaking machine go off one more time I will go street rat crazy.

-Beau. Get that smug look off your face before I smack it off.

-Wishing you were Charlie Sheen is not appropriate,beau. Not appropriate at all!

-I want a giant chair shaped like a hand.

-Ohhh what I would give for a comfy bed.
*This uncomfortable chair, television,beaus left kidney (you only need one), Oranges, etc etc

-Bitch don't come in here! I ain't your daughter! IDK What room they moved her to! I'll get crunk wit chew gurlll BITCH PLEASE. (obviously one of my shining moments. I lose all decency when sleep deprived. Depending who you are you will find me a ton more interesting//funny//annoying. your choice)

-Diabetes if freakin scary y'all! My whole life I just thought it was just no sugar for you! That shit can make you blind! HOLY C&B

-It is sad to realize your heroes have no clue who in hell you are.

- I want to jump into the blue fountain and see if it will turn me blue. How great would it be to be a smurf for a while! I wonder who i can convince to be my papa smurf. I get to be smurfette! ME! I DO! ME MEMEMEEMEMMEMEME! Smurfs remind me of Donnie Darko. Jake Gyllenhall is hawt lyk omg!!111!! ahh. I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE.

- I need footie pajamas. And a snuggie. Is that overkill? I want a cape too. And my footie pajamas need a hood! With a face! And a cape!

-Fruit of the loom! I am not super concerned if my future kids undies "look real fly" quit that you dirty fruit group you.
*Apple meet me out back ;)

-Santa had a drug charge! THAT MAKES MY CHILDHOOD SO MUCH BETTER. Thank you beau for that piece of knowledge. what?
It was a cocaine charge? No wonder he lives in the midst of all that white fluffy stuff!

Not exactly a shining star night for me.

Puppy-Forever.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 15:53:00 +0000

I really don't like being an adult. It bores me. I should have been injected with puppy-forever when I was small. Except..maybe fed it because I once punched a nurse in the face for trying to give me a shot. I wish I was making that up.

Help!

Update- Me now.

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 21:01:00 +0000

mmm mmm mmm. Look at me now.

I really need sleep.