Let me start over....

Ugh, I hate being cranky. I definitely was last night. Hi, my name is Becky. I'm 28 (29 in March!), a Navy wife, mom, college student and waitress. I grew up in STL, but left at 22 to go work on a cruise ship. It was one of the best decisions of my life! From there, I ended up in FL, met a guy at a bar one night, and the next four years seemed to fly by. I've decided to blog as an outlet. I'm not special in anyway. I'm just your everyday kind of girl, but I love life. I have a good man for a husband. I know he works hard to provide a good life for me & Booties. Speaking of her, she is amazing. She learned how to climb the ladder on the slide to her swingset. We've had it for about a month, but she's been too short to climb it. Therefore, she would walk up the slide, turn around and slide back down. I told you, she's smart. I find myself in awe of her everyday. Except when she throws her cup at me like she just did. Ugh. What am I going to do with her? Magic is our dog. She is purebred labrador retriever. She's very intelligent. Unfortunately, she acts like a fucking idiot. She turned 4 in August, but she's still as hyper as a puppy. She is good company, though, and she is wonderful with kids. I work as a waitress at a (supposed to be) fine-dining restaurant. The money is decent, and I love my co-workers. Okay, I love most of them. There are always one or two douche bags in the office, but they are the best for gossiping about. For the most part, though, I really like my job. I'm pursuing a degree in culinary arts at the local community college. I haven't decided though if I want to be a general chef or a pastry chef. I guess it's all going to come down to how fat I'm willing to let my ass get. I love food, I love to cook and bake, and really, I don't mind that type of cleaning. I LOVE to travel, and some days I miss it very much. Being a military spouse is really the perfect life for me. It gives me a chance to move around the country, meet new people, and the Navy pays for it all! I don't mind Navy life at all, and really am quite grateful for such comfort in this economy.

Before you continue to read this you should know that I'm vulgar. My blogs will be at least rated R. Here we go: I can't take it anymore. I have to find a way to get it all off my chest. If I keep complaining to friends and coworkers, they are going to tell me I need some serious therapy. On most days, if you listened to me, you'd think I hate my life. I don't. Well, I don't hate it. Some days I just don't like it. For the most part, I'm happy. I'm a Navy wife. He's enlisted, but in the nuclear program, so the money is bangin. I want him to put in for an officer's package. We'll see. Our daughter, Stinky Punkin Butt Booty girl, who we'll call Booties for short, is absolutely amazing! She'll be 2 in January. She is smart and funny and beautiful and curious, but she has no interest in potty training. Dammit. I'll let her run around without a diaper on, and she'll sit on the floor and pee right next to the potty chair. It's awesome. Hubs, well, he's a good one, but he gets on my last nerves. Can I just say that I hate World of Warcraft? I mean, I HATE IT. I've seen him spend like 52 out of 70 hours on that fucking game. Guess what? He's on there right now. Sometimes, I feel like he feels that because he brings home more money than I do that he gets a free ticket out of housework. How is that fair? Did I mention that I'm a waitress AND a college student? With a 3.8 gpa? He comes home from work and gets straight on the computer and will be on there until bedtime. I do EVERYTHING. Cook, clean, take the dog to the vet, Booties to all appointments, make sure the bills are paid. Fuck, he won't even call to order take out. *whiny voice* "I don't like talking on the phone." But you'll talk into that stupid headset all fucking night. Are you kidding me?! He actually helped me clean this nasty house tonight. And made dinner. I'm pretty much shocked. I'm sure he'll expect a blow job for that. Fat chance. I'm currently nursing a head cold and can barely breathe through my nose. Not that I would want to do it anyway. We're trying for another baby, but at the rate we're going, Booties is going to be an only child. Ugh. If he did dinner dishes I might contemplate it, but I don't think he even knows how to do them.