Mmmkay. BYOC, Then I am Done :D

1. What day of the week do you love and what day of the week do you hate?

I like Monday. The guys are gone and I have the house to myself, again. I don't like Friday. Because I know that the next day is Saturday.

 2. What is your middle name and is there a meaning behind it?

My middle name is Letitia. It is an ancient Germanic name that means Joyful One. It is an old family name passed down from mother to daughter for generations. Guess one of my cousins is going to have to continue that one... I couldn't very well name my son Letitia, now could I? :P


3. Since I’m dreaming of my next tattoo, I’m going to ask this one. Do you have any tattoos? How many? If you don’t have one – what would you get if you did have one?

I don't have any tattoos. Yet. I am considering one, when I reach my weight goal. I have an idea, a design in mind. It is going to include vines, leaves, flowers and a number. I want it to be in super soft pastels, so light that they are almost ghostly, with no outlines. So soft, so light that if someone were to catch a glimpse of it, they would have to ask themselves if they really saw what they thought they saw. It would be something very personal to me, for me. A whisper. Not a shout. 

 4. On that same theme of dirty little secrets…how many piercings do you have? Any you wish you had?

I have six piercings. Three in each ear. I am seriously considering a forth lobe piercing and also piercings up in the curl of my ear where little gemstones can live and peek and wink, when the light hits them just right. I wouldn't consider getting pierced anywhere else. I am too much of a chicken. lol I am very conventional in my appearance and my ear piercings are my small outward nod to my inner wild child.


5. Repeat question: Summarize your life in blog land and in real life.

Bleargh! This one always makes my brain explode a little. I always totally lame out on it. I suck so bad. lol Okay, in real life, I have rediscovered the joys of my glider and have racked up a few miles. And plan to wear that thing out, in the future. I am talking ride it until it is screaming for mercy. (Kinda like it does, now every time I step on it... ;) :P) 

I took a tiny bit of my power back away from my husband the day he brought my glider upstairs. He was setting it against a wall by the TV and there was a picture on the wall, in the way. He started in with his huffing and muttering and attitude and I just lost it. I screamed that I would come get the fucking picture out of his way since he obviously can't do two tiny things at once on hos own. And I stormed over, snatched the picture out of the way and hung it on a hook that is on a wall across the room. 

He had the nerve to shush me. To chastise me for being too loud and swearing, that there was a possibility that the neighbours could hear. Well, he blew it. Don't ever shush me. I will bite your fucking face off. And I took his off in short, loud order. I yelled at him, telling him that he had no. fucking. right. to speak to me that way. That he wasn't to ever tell me to shush. That I will say what I fucking please. When I fucking please. Where I fucking please. With any words I fucking choose to use.  At any volume I fucking please. I slightly lowered my volume and told him that I am not his control object, I am not a child who needs her behaviour corrected and I didn't have to do as he tells me. Then I lowered it a bit more and reminded him that I have to right to behave as I like in my home and if the neighbours don't like it they can bite my fat, white ass. And if he didn't like it, he could bite my fat white ass. Then I lowered my tone to normal and told him that he has to learn to respect me and stop crossing my boundaries. Then I walked out of the room for a while.

He is treating me with a little more respect. I think I finally got through to him, in some small way. He is a tiny bit less controlling, a tiny bit less sarcastic and doesn't mutter under his breath and shoot me hateful looks as much. I have a lot of work left to do. I need to impress on him that I won't stand for not being able to make more of the decisions around here. That I want to do my own grocery shopping and so forth. It was a start, tho. A tiny step in getting mine back.

In blogland... *sigh* What do I say? I am reading but not commenting much. I am here.

Okay, so there you have it. My insanity in pretty blue italic.