Published 11 May, 2011 by itsaheartache

It’s so hard for me to read the news online anymore.  And it’s not because the news is necessarily hard to read.  Yes, the economy is fucked.  Yes, gas prices are astounding.  Yes, we finally got “He who must not be named”… But I’ll tell you why the news is hard for me to read.

Fucking trolls.  We all know what they are.  They are the people who hide behind an imaginary screen name and make their shitty comments about anything from a child’s death to a new construction project.

Trolls are nothing new; when I was new to teh internets in 1998, on mIRC chat, there were trolls who would come into the chat rooms and “flood”… Are you guys old enough to remember that?

But nowadays, it’s SO harsh.  As I get older, I get less and less tolerant of people who don’t know when to shut their fucking mouth.

I try to participate on the internet and treat others as if they were in the same room as me.  If I wouldn’t say something to someone’s face, I sure as shit would never post it on the internet.  Point blank.  Sure, there is the obligatory vague Facebook status update, but I think that is different.

When you willfully and intentionally say things to hurt people, it makes you a dick.

You don’t go onto a posting about someone’s child being abducted from THEIR OWN back yard and talk trash about the parents’ ability to raise their children.

What if it was you?  What if your child was taken and hateful strangers had nothing better to do than to post awful jokes and Jeffrey Dahmer references?

OK, Shonda, calm down, if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

NO.  This is different.  This is hateful.  I consider this right up there with bullying.

Long story short… If you can’t play nice, I’m going to find a way to ground you from the fucking internet.

Oh and P.S. You might want to pick a new screen name… Big Dawg is SOOOO 1999 America Online cyber chat.  Asshole.



Published 1 May, 2011 by itsaheartache

I’m total bitch with an attitude today.

My sons will not stop arguing.

My middle son just got back from spending a weekend camping and came home with the holier than thou’s.

I’m sorry, Mr. Man, I forgot your red carpet and I forgot that we’re supposed to speak gently and use our indoor voices because you made the decision to stay up all weekend and now you’re tired and you’re crabby.


I forgot that it’s me that’s getting up at 5:30 every morning on 4 – 5 hours’ sleep just so I can transport your ungrateful hindend to jazz band, which happens to start a full HOUR before regular school.  And of course this is after having to wake you up because god forbid you, oh I don’t know, actually get UP with your alarm clock.

Then I come home and repeat for your brothers.

I forgot that it’s me working my ass off every day under tremendous pressure only to get texts from you TELLING me what you’re going to do after school, rather than making sure it’s OK.

I forgot that it’s me driving 45 minutes home through gridlock traffic and dipshits, only to walk in the door and get “what’s for dinner, I have to be at this place in 15 minutes, no I don’t have any homework, no I have no idea why I have 6 missing assignments – It’s the teachers’ fault, I know I turned it in, by the way can I have 10 dollars?”

I forgot that it’s me doing your laundry, scrubbing the toilet when you can’t  aim properly, washing your dishes, putting the bag back in the garbage can because you can’t be bothered to do that either.

I forgot that it’s me that somehow manages to make it work.

I’m sorry I’m not perfect and I’m sorry you can’t be bothered to appreciate what I do and what I struggle with on a daily fucking basis.

Now go to your room.

30 Days of Truth – Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do

Published 30 April, 2011 by itsaheartache

…shuffling from the back of the class, where I have clearly forgotten the assignment…

I have seen too many parents who are forced to plan funerals for their children.

The thought is almost paralyzing to me; it terrifies me and makes me achingly sad.  The mere thought of something even happening to any of the kids – It’s too much.  It’s so sad, so scary.

I don’t know how they do it.  How do you pick out an outfit?  How do you clean their room?  I would close the door and never open it.  I can’t imagine having to dig down and find that strength.

I’m reminded of Cassie’s mom, Jackie.  I grew up with this family, they are the closest thing to aunt and cousins that I have.  We are closer than I am with some members of my own family.

When Cassie was in her accident, it was right in front of her parents’ house.  Aunt Jackie didn’t realize who it was, and when she heard the accident she said a prayer and continued with her breakfast… And then came the knock on the door.

Later that day, she comforted the rest of us – She was so stoic and strong and reassured us that we would find the strength to go on as well.  She held fast to her faith, God has a plan she said.  It was her faith that brought her through.

I don’t have faith like that.  I’m not sure what I have, but I do know I hope I am never forced to come to grips with it.  I don’t want to find out if I can be THAT strong.

Love Long Distance

Published 30 April, 2011 by itsaheartache

I’m not any good at this dating stuff… Really, I’m not.  I’m SO damn impatient and stubborn, it’s a miracle that even my friends like me, let alone some cute boy who smells nice.

I joke around with my friends often about changing my preferences.  Maybe like a 2-week boyfriend – Someone who shows up once every two weeks, pays attention to me, gives me some lovin’, and then goes away for 2 more weeks.  I’m only half joking, but really I can’t even get someone to be nice to me for one night so how the hell am I supposed to find someone to come back around?  LOL

So how are you?  How are the kids?  How’s work?  Your family?  Is your car holding up?

Not much has been going on.  I have tons I want to write about but I forget I have this thing half the time and then it’s like “shit”.  Sorry to those of you who have dropped by to see what’s going on (Is anyone out there anymore?)

I’ve developed a habit of watching jail shows and reading about the mob.  I always liked the prison shows like Lockup and stuff but they have come up with some more shows that profile the booking sections of local jails, like Las Vegas and stuff.  Some pretty interesting people come through there.  Jail and crime fascinate me; I wonder what types of personalities are out there and what might be going through their heads when they are misbehaving.

And then that got me thinking – Holy shit I’m seriously so non-committal that I don’t even have a TV schedule… you know what I mean, yes?  You know how most people have a certain show they follow and they have to cancel all plans on the night(s) those shows are on… Yeah I don’t have any of that.  If something is on that looks good, I watch it.  I’m not a Glee-tard.  I don’t watch American Idol.  Or Grey’s.  Nothing like that.  If it’s interesting, I stop and watch for a while.  If it’s not, I keep flipping channels.  But yet, I have DVR.  I think the extent of my DVR use is to back up the funny ass music montages on America’s Funniest Videos.  😛

Besides, it’s enough of a pain in the ass to work my schedule around 5 kids; sheesh, I can’t be bothered to know what was on last night.


Until next time…

Day 5- Something You Hope To Do In Your Life

Published 23 February, 2011 by itsaheartache

Gah, where do I start?  I have to pick ONE?

I hope to fall in love.  I’m talking about giddy, facebook official, cuddling through the commercials, can’t stop thinking about you, Ell Oh Vee Ee.  Come on now, he’s got to be out there somewhere?

I have worked the personals sites.  I have asked friends for fixups.  I have “not looked for it”.  Where is he?


Day 4 – Something You Have To Forgive Someone For

Published 22 February, 2011 by itsaheartache

Hiatus?  What hiatus?

I have to forgive my mother for sending my brother away when he was 12.  I was a very young kid then, and he was very troubled.  He needed the focus the other family provided.

It devastated me, even to this day.

I have always had it out for my mother for sending him off, although now I know he would not be anywhere close to the man he is today.

As much as it pisses me off that she refused to be a parent, I forgive her for sending him away.  It was the best thing she could have done for him.