7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.
mom: nic, do you know what your fuckin problem is?!? *doesnt wait for answer* blah blah blah *specifics*
me: whatever ma, i dont care
mom: see, thats your fuckin problem, you little bitch!!
(gotta love positive reinforcement *giggles*)
i like to tell people ‘if you have to judge me, at least you could pray for me.’ and its weird, because people who were raised with faith will look horrified and be like ‘oh no honey, you cant let just anybody pray for you.. they could say anything’ and i dont usually reply because i dont have time for the conversation and eventual argument that would ensue.. but you can pray to whoever for anything for me or against me, or just wish good/bad things on me.. because God knows your heart as well as mine, and karma comes to everyone in their time.
at the end of a very deep prayer, my sons father texted to ask to borrow money.. after ive made it through all his months of unemployment and no child support with no help from anybody, and his abandonment for the fake hostage situation last week. i thought of all the things anyone else would tell him, but instead i just said ok. it makes me feel better knowing God is somewhere laughing his ass off because at least i know he heard me.
i know you and court had it out already, but i just want you to know that im not real happy with you either. its been 15 years since you spent a christmas with me and my sisters. since your sons first one, when we were there. i dont know how you think thats fair. sue controls everything about your life when it comes me to me and the girls, down to what time you can skype us at night. lmfbo. and then you ask court if youre supposed to spend 2 grand a year coming to visit, i dont see why not when you used to pay so much in child support. youre a fucking jerk, and i will not see you when you are here, i will let them pick up xa so he can visit with you, but i dont ever want to see you again. you think you have been some kinda hero fucking dad to us when you were nothing but a check and summer punishment. especially me, you have no idea how much you have failed me, how much i remember, how much you werent there, all the slack i had to pick up, already trying to be a mom and having to be a dad too. so heres all the pats on the back for the nice christmas gifts you send every year, isnt your wife such a wonderful lady, buying nice things for your poor trashy kids like some kinda saint.. fuck off, and i swear you better not fucking call me because if i am ever near you again i will probably kill you now that grandma is dead.
ou watch those nature documentaries on the cable?
You see the one about lions?
You got this lion. He’s the king of the jungle, huge mane out to here. He’s laying under a tree, in the middle of Africa. He’s so big, it’s so hot. He doesn’t want to move.
Now the little lions come, they start…
i stood at the sink with my back to everybody, holding on for dear life, literally. i struggled futilely to dislodge a piece of steak that was stuck into my esophagus perfectly. my sister looked over at me and said, ‘OMG, nic!! why didnt you tell anybody you were choking?!?’ my bulging eyes must not have held satisfactory answers because she continued raging as she mercilessly administered the heimlich on me. once the meat was out and i was breathing and done vomiting violently, i patiently explained that i didnt want to interrupt anyone while they were eating, took a drink and then went back to shoveling food in my mouth and poor chewing.