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Still Zombified
forever and on
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free stuff that wuld otherwise be thrown away :/...
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i know it's early, but hell, you're in place! doc says so anyways... well it'd be cool if you decided to take up halloween as your official DOB, you'd be queen of halloween that's for damned sure! nothing like a bloody birth on the deadest night of the year am i right?

well... for toes that don't know the answers to all the ofishial pregnancy questions i thought i'd let you in on all the werd and shit.

I'm "due" Nov. 19th, although it's late october and she's already in position, so i guess we'll see about that won't we?

I'm having a girl

The dad is psyched, and i can't wait til he gets out on parole!

okay, sorry, i'm just fucking with you about the parole shit, he's not eligable for it...

okay, OKAY! he's not locked up at all, he's actually sitting on the couch not ten feet from me.. lol, sorry, i thought it was funny tho...

anyways, We're pretty set on the name Lydia Sage Allen (his last name) and have been since like, june.. doubt it'll change but it might when we see her, who knows ??? maybe if she's born on halloween she'll get a moar wicked middle name ;P

I'm opting for natural birth, but i'm not so stubborn about it that if i'm in too much pain i won't ask for an epidural.

really what does the birth matter beyond comfort and of course safe delivery? Ifd i could i'd skip that whole segment of time and just go straight to the end, the last push where she comes out.. i bet i'm not the only one to have thought of that.. lol

anyways, that's the answers to all the asked and unasked questions that i can think of, i'm sure theres more, and if you have any questions i'll be super happy to answer them all... after your donation of $5.99 to my paypal account... heh, just kidding...


Current Mood: weird weird

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i would add a larger pic instaed, but i'm too damn lazy!

anyways. i meant to do more to this buuuuuuut.. i got kicked out of the program before i had the chance. well, when you use free software, it has it's problems...

anyways, i'm 32 weeks today, that pic was taken about three hours ago.. well that's my update....

Current Mood: cold cold

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so far at least... i only have two pics, the first one is about 3 months (not showing yet, i just has a belly normally ;D) I can't find the one for four months.... and the other is five months (showing a bit more now) Thing is, i'm due to take the one for 6 months, I'm just procrastinating.... hehe.. btw, ignore that funky face i'm making in the first one....

I just realized that i look OLDER in the second one, kind of scary.. maybe "Mom" is setting in.. really scary.... 

Current Mood: contemplative contemplative

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Home is where i get to put shit up that scares the neighbors.
these pics are actually kind of old, i've changed things up a bit since these were taken three weeks ago. but it's what i got, maybe i'll post more later...  Yeah, i'll definately post more later, the place is a friggin mess in these!

i love my tablecloth.. i don't even know why, it's puke green, and hidious, but it's compleately friggin awesome to me....


There's a weird guy in this one.. i don't remember packing him....


Current Mood: bouncy bouncy

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My roommate is fucking nuts... he had two beers and is as belligerent as an alcoholic (pre-recovery) i think this is all a ruse, a big fucking act so he can say whatever he wants and not feel bad about it.

it makes me sad, maybe he should start just saying what he fucking wants, becuase tonight he's pissing me off. talking about my boyfriend, like i'm not going to defend the man i l0ove and the father of my child? HA right, i don't care if he IS right in what he's saying (which he's not) you don't talk shit, to ME about the people i love. i don't care if you ARE someone i love, it doesn't happen./

i keep telling him to just sit down and write things since he's pissed off (and he's a poet) mainly so i don't have to hear this shit anymore. i Can't wait to move now. i wanted to real bad in the past, and i have plans to, it's just a matter of how long i'm going to set up savings before we actually go, i could save for a shorter timesure, but i hate doing that.

but tonight i'm thinking how much i just want out, i might just sell all my shit to get out. if the huge ass cock roaches (hehe cock) aren't bad enough, it seems the crack headed homeless guy that spanges around here  is welcome over now too.. yeah i don't think so. And now this asshole (My roommate) Just won't shut up! he keeps talking and talking and... talking...

I would just go to bed, but i'm not tired, and i don't think i should have to. i pay rent here, he doesn't he lives with in the room next to ours free, since the "landlord" is his daddy. lives free. how nice....

He doesn't feed his cats. i've spent so much on cat food in the last 5 months that really, he should owe me money. he doesn't clean up after himself, or shower, which is really bad since i've been nauseus my whole first trimester.. the smell of his pits don't make it any better.. just this month i've asked him 3 times to take a shower... he's taken three showers this month...

he won't get a job "that would be failure" he says.. he is 'SUCH' an anarchist now.. oh ye.. the only one of his caliber for sure.. the only one who doesn't give a shit about his closest community, the people that live with him.. Talk about giving anarchists a bad name. can't i just kill him? would it be okay?

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Current Mood: uncomfortable uncomfortable

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Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they're what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there's not an $800 car in America that's worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends' houses but never has friends over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won't hear you say "I get free lunch" when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.

Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn't mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is knowing you can't leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.

Being poor is hoping your kids don't have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn't have make dinner tonight because you're not hungry anyway.

Being poor is Goodwill underwear.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid's school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don't give a damn about you.

Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger's trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can't find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she'll probably just laugh at your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you'll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid's teacher assuming you don't have any books in your home.

Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually lazy.

Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn't bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that's two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn't know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you're being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it's all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is knowing you really shouldn't spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won't listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn't go away.

Being poor is making sure you don't spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn't leave.

Current Mood: curious curious

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poooo... see? funny shit!

Current Mood: amused amused

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fucking psych meds are so fucked. i'm so sick of this shit! maybe it wouldn't be so damned bad if the US's healthcare system wasn't so fucking retarded.

i didn't stop taking my meds by choice, innitially i stopped because of my docter, my appointments getting cancelled, my meds not getting called in and inadequate amounts per prescription basically forced me to stop. it was either that or continue this on again off again bullshit.

but i had to reinforce my reasons to stop altogether, because for some reason or another (maybe it's all these stupid people who "care" telling me that i have to take my meds)i just LOVE the constant suffering... right...

want to know what my symptoms are?

muscle tention and spasms (it helps to not stop moving at all)
(therefore) body aches
ccrying spells
sadness for NO fucking reason..

it's compleate misery! all i need now is to lose my arms and legs and i'll be totally helpless.... hell cut out my toungue while you're at it doc!

PLEASE i beg you, do not let you or anyone you care about start taking paxil.. i mean.. if you think the withdrawel effects are bad, you should see the side effects and suicide stats...

actually every bottle now is required to have this 70+ page pamphlet attached that's full of the warnings.

SO please don't take paxil! not unless you want 70+ pages of warnings to fuck with you constantly

Current Mood: crappy crappy

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