numero unoI think blogs are lame, but here I am blogging away. How lame is that?
I'm expecting some money today. Actually the check is there but needs to be signed. I wish they'd let me sign it. I'm an excellent forger.
With my money I am going to buy a whole lot of shit I don't need. Like a precision lash curler, makeup brushes, barrettes, fancy schmancy baby products for my son, and tons of more shit like that. What is the dumbest thing about all that? I'm a single welfare mom. I get financial aid and I blow it like a maniac on useless crap. Um, okay. I wonder why I am so financially unstable.
If anyone's reading this shit, here's an update on me:
I'm a 23 year old fat punk rock chick with a son nearly 2 years old. I was dumped by his dad when I was about 3 or 4 months pregnant. He knew I was pregnant when he left but thought I was miscarrying because I had spotting after sex once. When I reminded him, he first didn't believe me, then he accused me of cheating on him - next think I know he was offering to pay for an abortion if I got an estimate to him! An estimate! As if it was like fixing a fucking car!
Needless to say, I kept the kid, and moved in with my mom. That's another thing. When he left, I had just gotten fired from my job. Do you think he helped with rent? Fuck no! He just left. He was even getting a settlement from a place he worked at. He "hurt" himself at work when a really light box fell on his back. They offered other jobs to him while he got better, so he could keep working. But he kept being a big fucking baby and got himself a lawyer.
I needed to pay insurance on my car and pay rent, especially if I was pregnant. But no, I miscarried before, so it was going to happen again. Dumbfuck!
So now I send him those free baby coupons and subscriptions to make him feel guilty, which I doubt he does. I also send pictures and letters updating him on our son's health and achievements, hoping that will break his heart and help him put a gun or ten to his head. I would be delighted to hear that he blew his brains out. I know it sounds mean and cruel and whatever else, but not only would it make me feel better to know he is not procreating anymore but it would be a better story to tell our son than that his dad's an asshole, just like mine. I could tell him that he felt bad about leaving us and instead of coming back to us, his mental unstability took over and he shot himself.
When he left, it was fucked up. He didn't tell me we were breaking up. In fact, we fucked like animals and had a "Madly in Love" breakfast together before going to the airport. I had a feeling I'd never see him again, but I always felt that way when he left me to visit his mom. This time, I wouldn't see him for three months.
Ha! A month later he finally answered my emails with "Don't you get it? I don't want to be with you anymore?!!!"
Okay. We were having a few fights but we were alright when he left. We were all in love acting. Um, what was I supposed to get out of that? Especially when he called the day after he got there and told me he missed me a lot. Agh!
The baby thing got me too. I was pregnant a year prior to that and he would feel my belly and smile and be so happy we were having a baby. So when I was pregnant this time I didn't get why he wouldn't feel that way again.
Okay, the miscarriage could have made him feel like I'd never carry all the way. Which was also fucked up.....
Like I said, we were all happy we were pregnant. But one night I started bleeding and I didn't stop. We called the doctor and they said to come in. I was scared, I didn't want to go in. So I sat on the toilet all night. What did he do? He slept! The fucker slept! Our baby was gushing, in pieces, out of my vagina into the fucking toilet and he slept! Like a fucking baby! My cat was curled up at my feet looking very concerned and sad. I bled continuously from about midnight until 7 am. Finally I woke the fucker up and said I was going to my mom. She took us to the ER. Yep, I miscarried said the doctor. There's nothing that can be done. It's pretty much all out of there. My mom was pissed and I could tell she wanted to kill my boyfriend.
Okay, so that's where this all comes in. I was pregnant again and I didn't tell anyone but him. So I carried the baby, wearing baggy ass clothes, mainly my gigantic little brother's clothes. Nobody knew until the day after I gave birth. I lived with my mom and brother and neither of them knew. They just thought I was getting fat, I guess.
I'm getting sick of writing so bye.