**Why I'm an Airhead

For those of you who know me or don't know me. I think it's time to share why I'm such an airhead.

It was a cool evening on September 27th I believe. A group of us where headed on our adventure in bowling. I rode in a lifted explorer behind the driver, his girlfriend in the passenger seat and my ex next to me. This truck was well beyond the legal limit for the lift kit and of course the driver built out the tires on the truck as well. I did have my bowling ball with me in the truck it was placed nicely underneath my ex boyfriends legs. So off we went to meet our group at the alley. So we come to a stop light. It turns red so we stop and we wait to turn right. When our light turns green the driver proceeds to go through the intersection and out of nowhere a mpv van comes screaming at us. Our driver cranks the wheel to just barley miss the T-bone accident only to create one probably worse. As we where flipping on to the right side our Driver is flipping the bird at the car that ran the stop light. It was almost like slow motion. I could hear nothing at all. I don't remember every part. So I wake up and I'm like oh owie my head my ribs. I look down and there was my stupid bowling ball on my ribs. It also knocked me in the head. I was in shock by this moment. I start screaming Oh my God is everyone okay? I could see some blood oh the drivers girlfriend. It still seemed like there was no noise. Then they all started talking at once saying they where okay. I could hear my friend from the group trying to kick out the back glass so we could get out. He thought we where going to blow up because there was gas everywhere. The truck was on it's left side still and we just climbed through the passenger side door. I remember sitting on the cold sidewalk looking at what could have really been something awful. I was lucky to be this alert for that stupid bowling ball smacking me in the head. I felt a little shaken up then I started really wigging out. I couldn't stop my body from shaking. The paramedic told me to come with them because they said they need to check me out. They strapped me down to a table with duck tape. The drivers girlfriend was also there strapped to a table. The paramedics where talking to me I'm guessing to keep me awake. I felt so tired all I wanted to do was sleep. We finally get to the ER. I had to pee so bad by this point, I mean I can't believe my bladder didn't explode on contact. I pleaded for the doctor please let me go pee I'm gonna blow up. So the doc finally checked my bones to make sure I could go to the bathroom. Oh the relief was wonderful. I come back to the ER room the driver's girlfriend was getting her arm put back together. They said it was okay for me to go home but I had to wake up every four hours.

So I go to the doctor the next day. I had a awful headache, and my ribs where very sore. So he took some X-rays and ordered a MRI done. The results showed I had a cracked rib on my left side. But, my MRI showed nothing. This was just the beginning of my migraines. Not only that I couldn't connect my sentences for what I was trying to spit out of my mouth. I had something very wrong with me and these doctors felt I was making it up. One doctor even gave me sugar pills for my headaches. To make a long story short I've never had any luck with my migraines. I do have a annoying headache everyday and every couple of weeks I have about a week of nonstop migraines. All State wouldn't pay for some of my neurological until a year later when my coverage ran out how great for them. I thought insurance was suppose to protect you when you get hurt yea right. I have never received the proper care for my brain injury. I as a person am very different than the way I use to be. I was so up beat ready for life, alive. Now I battle to stay in a good mood through my hurting. It's hard to be happy when all you feel is pain in your brain. I hope this will shed a little bit of light on why I seem a little off course sometimes. It's a battle I will probably have to live with the rest of my life.

Lisa

**Ghost Bloggers, be our Guest!

Hello fellow writers! Prepare yourself for a few guest blogs today!

Just for your information-If anyone is interested to write anonymously, or named, on the blog, please let us know by contacting us at nomzaran@yahoo.com. Everything sent will be posted as written, unless it goes completely against our morals or core values. We did name it “Daily Offensive” for a reason, and thus, the title defends the blog! Feel free to vent, story tell, etc., in a safe anonymous fashion that will allow you to get it out, and let everyone enjoy your skillz, while being protected under the title, as well as an anonymous name!

http://dailyoffensive.blogspot.com/

If you have any questions, please let us know! We look forward to playing with you!

Nomz and Sazaran

♫ Cowgirl does not equal Farmer.

A Guy with Tractor

I have one of those. Not a tractor, but one with a tractor. Several actually.

I rarely blog about us. Mostly because for the first time in my life, I decided that I would do things right from the very beginning and 1)take my time and 2)keep it private. I plan on continuing to do so. BUT, for the sake of happy blogs, and to keep those interested in my sappy private life happy, I want to tell you a story.

I know very little about tractors, farming, semi’s, corn, wheat, etc., etc.. So little, that I frustrate the heck out of him pretty often. Luckily though, he is a genius at all of the above, and happens to also be a grand teacher. Last weekend, he even taught my four year old how to drive a bailer (the tractor that pulls the thing that bails hay/straw/sudex/etc.. Ok, well she doesn’t drive it necessarily, but she’s a great lap-sitter and steer-er. I’ve officially, after a long summer, spent hours in several tractors. We learned pretty quickly which ones I fit in and which ones I didn’t. We realized that when things get heated, that no matter how large the tractor, the cab suddenly shrinks. On the bright side though, when you’re in the middle of a field, the chances of you bailing on a tough conversation are not good-so we had some heart to hearts that I’ve avoided in almost every relationship.

He’s the most responsible guy I know. I mean how many twenty some-things do you know that have a plan for the rest of their life? Not only what they want to do, but how they are going to get there, what they have to work with, and already found a balance to work and play? I bet you know very few.

So, just to throw a fun spin on a mushy blog…things I’ve learned from tractor riding:

~The cab can shrink and grow, depending on how awkward the conversation, the position in which you’re sitting, and the longevity of the both the field-and the ride
~Some things are worth slowing down for.
~Sunsets and sunrises are even prettier when accompanied by the smell of dirt or hay, or good company.
~Cowgirl and Farmer are nowhere near the same thing.
~Bailing hay at 3am is not for sissies.
~Every tractor comes with a radio, and a seat. Rarely does it come with two of either.
~Some tractors have a ledge on one side so you can check out certain parts of the tractor that you wouldn’t be able to reach from the ground. This ledge, is not called a porch, and I am not allowed to put a lawn chair or an umbrella on it. Ever.
~I thought fresh hay would smell the same as a freshly opened bail. I was wrong. It smells better.
~Thanks to my sister, I now know that a pivot is not only usually a form of sprinkler, but there are several kinds that move in several different directions. Also, don’t stand under them, apparently the water is not typically fresh. It’s like the leftover water from….something else.
~Livestock, sadly, is optional in farming. Horses may eventually be a battle.
~Tractor Tires make for excellent seats for toddlers when the tractor is in halt position, they are also a great scene for a country bumkin picture. See?



~Not all tractors are green. They don’t always even look like tractors. Sometimes, they look like this:



~I have a lot to learn about life. And tractors. And farmers.

Yours Truly,
Nomz

**And then I walked away

We had another argument today. Surprise, surprise. This time, he said "I don't think you love me anymore." I responded with "I don't think you love me anymore". And then I walked away. Sometimes, I wish I could just walk away from this. From my life I have right now. Would I miss it? I would miss my children. I would not miss him.

Why are men such assholes?! Why is it that they feel the need to overpower and dominate?! When a man has a woman's heart, doesn't he know he can break it with the slight of finger twitches? Doesn't he know that he can get her to do anything he wants just by treating her like....... not even like a queen. Just a woman. Men wonder why women all over the world pine for a lust after fictional characters like Edward Cullen and Fabio. It's because they know how to treat a woman! Fictional or not, it's what we need, what makes us tick.

Love, gentleness, selflessness, and yes, chivalry.

When I entertain the idea of leaving him, of starting over with the hopes of finding someone who will love me, cherish me...... I panic. What if no man is truly like that? What if I spoiled my one chance? Did I spoil him? Did it start out right and through some fault of my own, I ruined our marriage?

How do I stay with someone who treats me as if he is better than me. And I am just some object that he has to pay for, like a cell phone, with no other obligations whatsoever.

Advice??!!?!

I'm not Josie Grossie anymore!

Me^
And here's the million dollar question: If you could go back and re-do high school, would you?

My answer would be "Yes, dear Lord, Yes!" on one condition, though. I would be able to take what I've learned about myself and the world with me.

I've been taking an inventory of the things that have changed in the past (gulp) seven years, especially in the last year or so. I wish I could go back and learn it a bit earlier!

*I never thought I was pretty. Not really ugly, but not pretty. How can you feel pretty when you're surrounded by (older) girls who've grown their boobies, straightened their teeth and have about five inches on all the other girls. Really, in junior high and high school, it's impossible. The ironic thing is this: child bearing destroyed the vain parts of my body but I appreciate it more. Maybe it's seeing the amazing transformation it went through that has me in awe. I still have those flaws, those insecurities but they're muted now. I hold onto these little idiosyncrasies as a reminder that there is no one like me, on the face of the planet. Will someone please tell that to a high school girl?!


*I remember, going to a party (I never drank, just absorbed the social atmosphere like a dried out sponge) and, in the midst of beer pong and horny couples, I talked about the love of Christ. What was I thinking? I don't mean to say that I wouldn't do that. But, how much more confusing can you get? Maybe I could have chosen a better time to witness. Or maybe not, Jesus did eat with the tax collectors.


*I can't say that I would be any more popular than I was *cough* wasn't. I'd probably be even less liked because I would be more vocal (kinda like.... now?). I've learned so much about the world and myself. Don't you just wish you could return- not for the entire four years- just for a few occasions where you knew that a crossroads was before you? Where you should have gone left but went right? Maybe it wasn't even a paramount moment, but something that left a lasting impression. I would stand up for myself. A lot. I never did that.


*I think, maybe, I wouldn't keep things so bottled up. Not letting out your emotions wreaks havoc. I'd find someone who I could trust and (forewarn them, first) just spill....


Let me know, would you go back? Why? Or why not?

♫ Peace Beyond the Noise

Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work.
It means to be in the midst of those things…..and still be calm in your heart. unknown

You know, my Reese gave me a magnet that says that. It sits on my desk, in front of my face, and there are still days that I forget it.

I was going to write this big ol’ blog out today about being a single mom, and all that entails…but my heart’s just not there today. It’s coming though, I promise. There are some things I want to say to my single mamma girls, and it will be said this week, I promise. Today though, I just felt the need to address something else. I don’t know if it’s because I need to tell it to myself, or because someone else out there needs to hear it, but here goes.

Everything in your life, is noise. Sometimes in the literal sense, noise is the traffic outside your window. The co-worker on the telephone near you. The infant or toddler screaming at you. Your phone ringing off the hook. The Facebook updates that shake your nerves. Sometimes, it’s not literal. Sometimes, it’s the noise in your head that nobody can hear. It’s things that you cant get out of your mind, but don’t want to admit or say.

Trouble, is the same way. It can be so literal…you know, family drama. Friend drama. Your drama. Trouble at work or school. Or, just something that keeps you awake at night. Makes you toss and turn. Affects your dreams. Keeps you from relaxing, even in the hottest, steamiest, quietest shower.

Hard work can be everything from actual work, to desk work. Yard work, to laundry. Or, just the fact that you have to work hard to get out of bed every day, or prepare meals, or just to put a smile on. Hard work can generally be defined as: meeting the demands of others.

It’s up to you, and you alone, to find the strength to find peace inside, regardless of all the noise, trouble, and hard work in your life.

How I {personally} find my peace:

Use my most inspiring, uplifting friends as ventilations systems, and they love me anyway.
Take pictures. For some reason, it’s de-stressing.
Clean. duh
Jam out. Something about the following recipe does it for me, fast: Lyrics+Music+Dancing=inner bliss.
Drive. Regardless of season, a back road does it for me.
NOT reading. For some reason, I get so frustrated with the characters in the books when I’m not happy on the inside.
Pray. I’m not always the church-goer, but God and I have never stopped talking about life.
Look around at the season around me, and find something I love about it. Right now, Autumn smells amazing, and the trees are telling big stories

It seems when we are stressed out, that our inside thoughts make our outside world exponentially more stressful, overbearing, and irritating. It exaggerates reality. Before you assume the world is against you, find a way to breathe deep.

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. ~Emerson

Regardless of how the day ends, or how horrible you sleep, leave it alllllll behind and move on. Life can only drag you down as low as you let it.

Yours Truly,
Nomz

I feel stabby. Just kidding.

This is going to be one of those blogs where I just have to write whatever comes to mind- hopefully forcing out some sparkly inspiration. Or funny thoughts.

*A FB status, I recently posted, that I feel the need to re-post here: They must let the crazy lady out for her nightly smoke. At our last meeting, she muttered something that sounded like a cross between Elfin and a mathematical equation. Note to self: change.walking.time.

*Ever get one of those "sores" on the tip of your tongue- usually from eating something citrus-y or sour? Anyone know where they come from or what they're called? I happen to have not one, not two but FIVE on mine. I think I'm allergic to the new toothpaste I bought. This doesn't qualify as TMI, does it?! :)

*It's apparent you're a parent when:

-----> Four of the five DVD slots that could house thriller, romance or comedy instead have, on a consistent basis, Baby Einstein, Signing Time and Baby Pro.

-----> You hear a scream and immediately try to discern if it's your kid's scream or not. Your kid could even be sitting on your lap and you'll find yourself making sure he's okay.

-----> Stains don't bother you anymore. In fact, they're quite the accessory.

-----> You refer to your mate as "mommy" or "daddy" rather than "babe".

-----> You look for friends with kids. Rather than friends with cars.

*My summer was filled with a (nearly) daily dose of sweet tea from McDonalds. I ♥ sweet tea and it was only a buck. Now, that promo is over and I have to pay almost two. But, I go to Washington and they still get to pay the former. The hell, McD's?!

*What little faith I had in mankind was shattered and then somewhat rebuilt during my trip to and from Seattle. I was able to take Mal's car seat onto the plane with me. See, I have this little demon that follows me around and gets my luggage lost. I can't afford to lose a car seat. Since I had to carry a car seat, my luggage, my carry on, Malachi and a stroller, I went to customer service and asked if I could have assistance. "Sure," they said. "We'll put you in our system." The time to board comes and I'm called to the desk with my items. To my chagrin, Assistance flat out tells me "You're going to have to carry that yourself." wtf? My somewhat impatient response was, "The whole point in asking for you was so that I wouldn't have to carry these things. Because, obviously" *points to Malachi* "I can't." She stares at me. Finally, a passenger offers to help. From that point on, I had to seek out help from the airline employees but three other passengers offered to help in anyway.

*I just realized this is our 200th post! Yay for Daily Offensive!

*If no one has read The Bloggess' blog about the magical boobie mushroom. I suggest you do.

*Whilst in Washington (I just might go on an on about this visit. It was epic.) Malachi learned a little bit of sign language! Everytime he wants something, I make him sign please (you rub your hand in a circle over your chest)- it has cut back on whining! Check out: Signing Time.

*Here are a couple pictures I took while in said epic state: