Lots to say, tho I bet I forgot most of it already...
I went to Ocala with Greggie! We went because he had to see some counter-makin' material- he is redoing the kitchen counter at my parents' house. Also, we went to see Greg's parents, and that was pretty awesome. His mama is an awesome cook- she made this potato stuff, it's called kugalis (I prolly spelled that wrong) and it was fucking glorious. It was a really fun trip, we spent the night at his folks' house (after going swimming in their not-cold-but-awesomely-refreshing pool) and I got my 'done at the Ocala clinic the next morning. Then we almost got lost getting back to his parents' house and then they made us breakfast which was also delicious.
Then we went to the counter-and-tile "showroom", I think the company was called Jetta Stone, and Greggie was asking the salesman lots and lots of questions while making me take notes on the answers. I take good notes usually, but I was so tired and bored (surprisingly enough, I don't give much of a rat's ass about counters and edging and backsplashes and seamless sinks) that I ended up kinda falling asleep. Greg laughed at me for that. Then we went to the Jetta Stone factory, which was also boring to me and fascinating to Greg. Construction workers... whatever, right? He asked to take a factory tour, but I ended up waiting outside because there was a lot of weird shit in the factory air and I didn't want to breathe it in- I told the worker dude that I was pregnant and he said maybe I should go outside. No argument from me! I already smoke cigs and weed- thats enough foreign substances through my lungs to the baby. Plus, I wasn't exactly super interested.
Then we went back to good ol' Palm Beach County, on Tuesday. I stayed the night with him in the camper and went to my house on Wednesday. What a fun trip- even if it was to see a showroom filled with counters and sinks, I like going places with Greggie. He agreed to go to a concert with me in a couple months: Disturbed and Slipknot are headlining. Nice, huh? I do like the death metal, and Greggie isn't much into it but he also likes going places with me (or so he says, ha ha) so whatever.
My shoulder got fucked up about 2 weeks ago, and it keeps getting worse and worse. A couple nights ago it was hurting so bad that I was kinda graying out- my brain went blank and I felt really spaced out- so my mom insisted that I go to the stupid emergency room. Of course they didn't do a fucking thing, which pissed me off a whole bunch. It's an injured shoulder, and I can't fucking STAND doctors looking at something that simple and throwing their hands up to the sky: "oh lordy, I've never seen anything like that before!" Like it's a medical fucking anomaly- give me some gosh-damn flexeril! I know I can't have narcotics, hell I told them straight-out I wasn't after painkillers. Buncha fruitcakes.
This morning I went to an orthopedic doctor for the stupid shoulder. It's my right shoulder (of course, since I'm right handed) and by now it's completely locked to my arm. I can move the arm from the elbow down, but above that I can't even barely push it with the other arm. Typing isn't bad, cause I can still "chicken-wing" my arm while typing, but the fingers on my right hand have already went numb. Gay, huh? Anyways, the doc says I most likely have a torn (or somehow messed-up) rotator cuff which might need surgery, but he won't know for sure until I get an MRI, which I get on Friday. He asked me if I wanted an x-ray, but that might be dangerous for the kiddo.
This baby has beat some odds already and fuck if he isn't perfectly healthy! I say "he" because it's easier than typing "he or she" every time. Also, I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a boy. No one told me that, I just have a feeling. I even have an awesome boy's name picked out... not that I'm telling. I got a girl's name too, but neither will be revealed until after he's born. Superstition of some sort. I feel him punching and kicking when I lay down to go to sleep, and sometimes while I'm chilling and watching TV. Today I was watching King of the Hill (my favorite cartoon now that Family Guy sucks the big hairy one) and working on the baby blanket I've been making and suddenly the baby starts kicking/punching/headbutting me right below my belly button. The little bastard! Hurt like hell, but it was still cool. Feeling the little guy move around inside me hasn't lost it's novelty... at least not yet.
Well Greggie I know you wanted a big bullshit story but I didn't have it in me. My creative bone is on vacation or something- yeah. Greggie is of course the photographer behind the pictures, which were taken at the pool that I have access to where I'm living now. I'm getting H U G E, no?
The other day at the park I seen my friend Shane. Remember the chick I wrote about on here before, Kimmy Dixon? The girl I used to work the streets and get high with that got killed? If not, see here:
Anyways, Shane was her boyfriend for many years. He was a homeless crackhead-ass junkie needle freak, but he was one of the only homeless crackhead-ass junkie needle freaks that I trusted completely (the other one is the old man that I posted a picture of myself with last month- Chuckie). Yeah he was addicted, but he was always good people. Didn't steal from his friends, always shared even when he barely had anything (shit- one time he split a dime rock three ways even though nobody asked him for a hit!), got me off the streets when I was too high to be running around, etc. He went to a Christian "rehab" program (not 12 step crapola so obviously it isn't the ONLY way- lord I hate that NAzi bullshit) and he's been clean for quite a while. I think almost a year now. When I saw him- wow! He looks so fucking different than before, seriously. He looks great. I got permission from him to post this link, which is his graduation speech from the program he recently completed:
GO SHANE!!!!! I'm so glad one of us made it.