What is that song? It just pummelled me out of no where.
So, it occurred to me that I used to write in my blog a lot, then I didn’t anymore. Dunno why, just sort of lost interest or something. Well, that and life got busy for some reason. Steve and I have friends that we spend a lot of time with, and I talk a lot now, so the need to get the words out is kinda taken care of, well, verbally.
So anyway. Is anyone else sick to death of Paris Hilton? What a freaking baby. Yeah, I’d be scared if I had to go to jail, too, but damn, she should have thought of that before she endangered the lives of possibly hundreds of people by driving drunk.
I mean, come on! She’s richer than God and she can’t hire a fucking driver? Gimme a fucking break. Cry me a river, Paris. Spend your forty five days in jail and shut the fuck up. Preferably forever. Not dead, mind you, just stop being so stupid. Don’t you realize that there’s more to life than parties?
Go to a third world country and build a school or something. Do something useful with your life and stop being a waste of good air. Arrrgghghhh.
Isaiah Washington got fired from Grey’s Anatomy. Well thank God! What a dumbass.
So. My life. Steve broke his knee playing soft ball a couple of weeks ago. He ran to catch a ball, but didn’t call it because he didn’t think he’d get there, and another guy did the same thing. Just as Steve landed on his left knee, the other guy ran into it. They both heard a loud pop, and it turned out that the his femur and tibia smashed together, and crushed the corner of his tibia.
The doctor called it his “Patella Plateau” but I think he actually meant his “Tibial Plateau.” Not that it really matters; he broke his fucking knee. So, no work for three weeks, which was fine since we’d scheduled a three day weekend to go camping, plus a week’s vacation to go to Mexico on a mission trip.
We went camping and Steve got sick. It scared him [sick, on crutches in Mexico could be really bad, especially if we’re talking about Montezuma’s Revenge so anyway, we decided to stay home.
Steve’s mom and sister had agreed to keep the kids for the week, and they said they’d go ahead and keep them even though we skipped Mexico, so we’ve had the whole week to be alone. And together. Which is actually kinda cool because we still like each other. I’m pretty impressed with that.
August 19th will be our twelfth anniversary. We’ve been together 13 and a half years now [good god, has it really been that long?] I love him even though he’s a dork and broke his knee, just to catch a freaking soft ball. I should mention that he did catch it and make the out, though.
He heard the pop of his knee and rolled around on the ground in pain for a few seconds, and then he realized that he’d caught the ball and needed to let them know it, so he stopped writhing long enough to hold the ball up and show everyone that he caught the ball. I really wonder about that boy sometimes.
People have been giving him shit about being older than he thinks, which makes me laugh to no end. He fully intends to play soft ball again after his six weeks is up. We’ll see about that.
So anyway, life has been busy, crazy, scary in spots [amazingly, all of his tendons and ligaments are intact, thank God. That could have ended his career, which is a conversation we’re going to have to have here before too long. He needs to wait until I have a job that can support us all before he damages himself too bad, you know? Grr.] but overall good.
So, now that it’s two in the morning, I think I’ll go to bed. G’night.