I dreamt I had a penis

Yep.
One night, last year, I actually had a dream that I had a penis.
I've always wondered what it would be like, I'm not gonna lie.
In my dream, I could actually feel it.
It was like having a giant clitoris extending from my crotch, lol.
A rod of pleasure, if you will.
I don't know if that is what it actually feels like to have one,
obviously,
but in my dream... that's what it felt like.
I don't know why I decided to share this with you... but now you know.

I once had a penis.

A whole lot of nothing

Hello my friends~!~!

I have had a lot of great blog-able activities occurring lately, however my freaking internet is down and has been since Tuesday! I am at my mommy-in-law's house, and don't really have time for a full-blown blog. The repair man is at my house right now... so I'll post soon!

And Andrea don't worry I'll plug your blog soon!

Trina

Megan

Hey guys, one of my best friends, Megan (you Skiatook-ians know her), just started a blog, so check it out!! She's funny, cool, beautiful and interesting... so encourage her to start blogging.

Here's the link: nagemlynn. blogspot. com

And for all of you who are annoyed at my lack of blogging lately, I promise I will start blogging more, especially when I am done with this semester. I am taking the summer off of school because I need a BREAK!!

I have so many awesomely funny blogs that I could write, except many of them are about my family members and in-laws, and I have sent them all my blog address, lol. Is there a way around that? I don't want to get in trouble with the fam, ya know.

Love to you all,

Trina

broke broke broke

I hate it when someone says, "I'm so broke" when they have like $500 in the bank. When I say "I'm so broke" that usually means that I have like $1.50 in the bank, ha. Which is really horrible, I know.

I should save money, blah blah blah... but what good is a savings account if I die tomorrow? Is anyone going to say, "It's a shame she's gone... she had $5000 in savings." Umm No, probably not. If I do save money, it's for a specific purpose.

I don't have a problem not having a savings account... my problem is the credit card debt. Why on earth was I ever so stupid to even get a freaking credit card? I don't care what anyone says, having good credit is not all it's cracked up to be. It just leaves you with $7000 in debt, making the minimum payments every month hoping you'll run into a bunch of money and pay it all off. Soo I chopped one of my credit cards into little bitty pieces and I am working up the nerve to do it to the rest of them.

I'm tired of stressing about it... there are a lot of people in worse situations than me, so who cares. I've learned my lesson... don't buy things you can't afford. Don't allow yourself to pay for groceries and gas with your credit card because it's a downward spiral...

So pretty much I have to get part time job (BLAH) so that we can kick this debt in the arse. So I'm going to be going to school full time, working part time... and not seeing my precious Aidan as much as I want to. Only temporary, though.

Well now that you all know my financial situation (which Josh is going to kill me for, lol. He hates it when I share that sort of thing) I suppose I ought to shut up.

Treen

Dear Dustin King,

Dustin,

I don't know who you are, but apparently you had my cell phone number before I did. And even though it has been well over a year since I've had this number, I still get calls and texts for you. It seems you were quite the ladies man. Let me share a recent conversation via text messages I just had with what I assume is one of your many she-admirers:

Person: Dustin?
Me: Wrong number. (This seems simple enough, should be the end of the conversation, right? Wrong.)
Person: This isn't Dustin King? (Ok, seriously? Do you think giving me the last name is going to change anything? My theory is that you are a psycho-obsessed teenage girl that poor Dustin King slept with once, and now you are stalking him. Here's the thing: THIS IS MY PHONE NUMBER NOW. NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU CALL IT, IT IS NEVER GOING TO BE DUSTIN KING'S NUMBER AGAIN! EVER!)
Me: No, I have had this number for over a year now. If you talk to this Dustin person, would you please tell him to inform everyone that this is no longer his phone? I am tired of getting his calls. (This took two text messages to send.)
Person: Sry (How mush work is it to throw in an extra "or"? So, you're "sry"? Well, you certainly should be "sry", because this conversation should have ended after your first text message. And I am not much of a texter, I don't even have a texting plan on my phone(MY phone, NOT Dustin's), therefore... each text costs me $0.20. Your stupidity officially cost me $1.20, so thanks a lot.

So Dustin, as horrible as I feel for you that you have a stalker, I really can't get involved - I have enough drama in my own life. Could you please inform everyone you know that you have changed your number? Thanks so much.

Trina Okerson

Nightlife and Chucky Cheese

Long time no post, right? I am so horrible about it! It's been pretty crazy lately with school and having a two-year-old. Now I'm on spring break, so yay!! I have been working so hard to keep a 4.0 GPA, and I don't even know why... I should be lazy and settle for B's, lol.

I get so annoyed at my friends who don't have kids sometimes. I mean, of course I occasionally want to get a sitter and go out drinking... but why can't my friends occasionally do something that's kid friendly? I love my son, and I love taking him places... and I don't want to be away from him every weekend! I know that's hard for some people to comprehend, but come on!! Invite me to a park, or the zoo... or Chucky Cheese! I mean, it would still be fun! A different kind of fun, yes... but still good! Get to know Aidan, he's a funny, cute kid.

If you have a friend that has a baby, keep in mind that though they will certainly want a break every now and then, they also want to feel like you are happy to go some place kid friendly, and will be ever so grateful if you can just laugh it off if their kid is sleepy and throws a horrible temper tantrum in the middle of a restaurant. Saying things like, "That's why I don't want kids," is just going to hurt their feelings, so keep that thought to yourself! All they hear when you say things like that is, "Wow, you're kids a brat and I don't want to be seen with him/her." And just because their child seems to be cranky when you're out, it doesn't mean they're like that all the time... all mothers want their friends to adore their children, so be supportive and try to make time for your friend AND their little one(s)!

Okay, sorry for my rant!

"Treen"

My Mom

Looking back to childhood, why is it so much easier to see all the bad over all of the good? It's like when some is wearing a crisp, clean new shirt and all you can see is the stain on it's collar. I could tell you, off the top of my head, 10 things that my mom did that embarrassed and upset me when I was an adolescent, but have to think long and hard to remember the good things.

I had a mom that made play-dough with us, let us decorate our own cookies, stayed up all night to make new curtains for our rooms out of fabric especially picked out to match our personalities and interests, took us on spontaneous trips to the park, never bought herself anything so that she could buy more things for us, and let us get away with much more than we should have gotten away with. Yet I look back and remember all of the bad things.

I always needed someone to blame for my problems, and she was so convenient. She had problems, addictions. She had ups and downs.

I didn't have a perfect childhood, but it was far from being bad. I want to concentrate on all the good memories I have; all of the many happy times.

My mom hasn't had a drink in over a year. My mom hasn't smoked a cigarette in 7 weeks. This may not seem like much, but it is. I'm so proud of her... so ashamed of how I used to think about her and treat her. But I was young, and I can't judge myself too harshly for it.

My mom helped shape me, and I love her. She's not perfect, but I love that about her.

Stuff and Nonsense

Long time no post, huh?

20 little-known facts about Trina:

1. Everyone thinks that my favorite color is orange. It is actually copper. I do like orange, though.

2. I narrate everything I do in my head as I do it. It's actually quite annoying. (Trina casually swept her hair from her forehead as she typed, wondering to herself if everyone thought she was as crazy as she felt.)

3. I absolutely, positively HATE ketchup, it makes me nauseas. I eat marinara sauce in it's place. I love mustard.

4. I am addicted to Dr Pepper. Really, addicted, it's my crack.

5. I am 1/64 Cherokee Indian and very proud of it.

6. I play World of Warcraft and watch Battlestar Galactica. Yes, I am a nerd.

7. I get so stressed out and upset when my house is dirty that I can't clean. It's a viscous cycle.

8. Sometimes I love people too much. So much, in fact, that they have to tell me to leave them alone. lol.

9. I occasionally smoke a joint. Don't tell anyone.

10. There is a 3 foot tall Superman action figure dressed in my son's clothing looking at me right now.

11. I didn't wear deodorant until I was 20 years old. I still rarely wear it. So what? hygiene is overrated.

12. When I got married my husband thought I was disgusting because I only showered every other day. Honestly! Who cares? He never noticed when we were dating! Now he is the one that never showers. Oh how things change.

13. I over react every time my son it hurt or sick. I called poison control once because he ate a pencil shaving.

14. I believe in aliens.

15. I never do my homework until the day it is due. It's a bad habit, but I'm carrying 4.0 GPA, so it can't be that bad.

16. I am pretty open to anyone's religion, but I think Scientologists are insane. I can't help it.

17. Sometimes when I eat by myself I pretend that I am on some grand adventure in a far off magical land and that I haven't eaten for days and therefore have to savor every bite. I have done that since I was a kid.

18. In 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade my teachers gave me an award for being the most creative in the class. I am still proud of those.

19. I always think everyone is mad at me. I am always the first to apologize even if I wasn't in the wrong.

20. I prefer to be friends with guys then girls. I get along better with Josh's friends than I do with their wives.

POOP

What a crappy week this has been. Literally.

1. I adopted a cat from the Bartlesville SPCA. She is cute, I was very excited about it. Well, two days later I go to clean out her liter box, and her crap is literally COVERED in little white worms. Ewwwwwww!! I think it was the most horrible thing I have EVER seen in my life. The reason I paid $55 and adopted a cat from them was because they are supposed to have all of their shots be free of all health problems before they can be adopted. So I called the SPCA and told them that I didn't think I should be financially responsible for this. They said that once an animal is adopted they no longer hold any responsibility to it's well being, blah blah blah. Grrr.

2. Aidan is potty training(though he hasn't actually made it in the potty yet) and has decided that clothes are optional. All the time. So he was running around naked today, and he decided to poop on the floor. No joke. Then he came and got me to make sure I saw. He pointed to it and said "Ewwwwww!"

So, I feel I have had more bad experiences with poop in a few days than any person should have in a year.

Messy Me

Why am I incapable of keeping my house clean? It baffles me. I try to play it off like it's all Josh and Aidan's fault (they are very, very messy), but the truth it, a lot of it's me. And then when it's messy, I get so depressed that my house is dirty that I just want to sit on the couch and be lazy, therefore it gets more messy and I get more depressed so I don't clean... it's a vicious cycle.

It seems to run in my family. My mom, my sisters, we are all this way. Except ReAnne, what's up with that? Actually, compared to my twin and my oldest sister, I am not even that messy. After they move out of place it needs to be bulldozed. At least I don't leave food out and let it get moldy, and I keep up with laundry and dishes. My house just never really looks neat, and I don't do detail cleaning very often. I thought it was normal until I married Josh.

My mother in law, oh my goodness. Sometimes I think she is super woman. She works 50+ hours a week, goes to school, and her house... spotless. What she considers messy is what I would call immaculate. And then my sister in law, Sarah, it's the same thing. Everything is always in order. I comforted myself in the fact that it must just be the females in Josh's family, like they inherited a feminine cleanliness gene, because Josh certainly didn't inherit it. I was wrong.

David moved to Bartlesville back in October. David's room is always neat, his bed is always made (seriously, I didn't think people really made their beds more then once a week when I lived with my parents), and, get this, he picks up after himself. Weird, I know.

So, maybe if one of them donates blood to me I will have the ability to keep up with it? Oh, wait, it doesn't work like that. Crap. Maybe I can hire one of them to clean my house, that sounds much more likely. I can pay them $10 an hour as long as it only take an hour a week to keep my house beautifully clean and organized. Ha.

I am writing this blog to keep from cleaning house. Surprise, surprise.

Oh, and something a little off topic... this is kind of funny. I realized that all these other blogs I read are all about people's dating, sex, and love lives... going out to clubs on weekends, meeting a hot guy, finding out he's a crazy tree hugging palm reader or something interesting like that... and then my blog is about cleaning house. Oh the life I lead, lol.

If my husband was more like a two-year-old and less like an eleven-year-old...

I often tell people that I have two kids. Aidan and Josh.

Josh, my dear husband, I have decided is like an eleven-year-old boy. He likes to play video games and drink many different flavors of soda pop. He doesn't remember to throw the empty cans away. When he's tired, he gets cranky, but thinks he is to old to take a nap, so he just continues to be cranky. He thinks his shoes and socks belong in the middle of the living room floor.

Josh relies on me for clean clothes, clean dishes, food and beverage. However, when Josh is busy playing a game he doesn't hear a word that falls out of my mouth - I cease to exist. The highlight of his life is when a new game is being released (and I, also, can't wait for the release Conan the MMORPG simply because I am SO SICK OF HEARING ABOUT IT). Josh has to be reminded to shower, and take the trash out, and clean up after himself. Being reminded to do these basic things annoys him, and he mutters things under his breath like, "what a nag" or "she's such a drag!" When Josh is sick his reliance on me increases 10 fold and his already low standards of cleanliness and hygiene dissipate to nothing. Thus, I actually have two kids.

Today I was thinking, I really wish Josh was more like Aidan, our two-year-old. If Josh were more like Aidan, then every time we had a fight it could be solved by a) giving him some peanut butter on a spoon or b) throwing a blanket over his head and saying, "Where are you, Josh? Where are you? There you are!!" which would result in a burst of giggles.

When Josh got cranky, I could place him in bed with his blankey and his stuffed Curious George (which he would call "Joge") and he would fall right asleep, waking up refreshed and happy. When Josh was sick, I could put a Disney movie in and give his some ice cream, and he would be quiet and cuddle with me happily for two hours - without requiring a thing.

And if Josh acted like he was two, then every time I did anything for him or brought him something he would get so excited he would jump up and down yelling, "tank-ou! tank-ou!" and give me a big hug, making me feel like the greatest person on earth. When I told him it was time to clean up, and sang the Clean Up song from Dora the Explorer, he would happily and enthusiastically help me pick up all his toys.

He would occupy himself for hours with spatulas, spoons, and pots and pans. A $0.97 car would make him happier than any $50 video game.

Also, he wouldn't be able to read and would have no idea that I just posted this blog about him. Oh, wait, he never read my blogs anyway... I'd say I'm pretty safe.

Postpartum

I went to the doctor on Monday to talk about some of my thyroid symptoms. I have all of the normal symptoms of someone who is hypothyroid:

Exhausted, want to sleep all day
Insomnia
Can't lose weight
Body aches
Moodiness, depression
And so on

I know my body, and I absolutely know that all my symptoms are because of my thyroid.

My doctor had other ideas. If you could even call him a doctor, he was a Nurse Practitioner.

He told me that my TSH levels were normal. Ignoring that fact that they are in the high end of what he has decided is "normal." Apparently there is no way that any of my symptoms could be from my thyroid.

His diagnosis? Postpartum depression. I almost laughed out loud when he said that. My son is 26 months old, and I have postpartum depression? Are you serious? Come on!! Of course I get depressed sometimes. If you felt completely exhausted and wanted to sleep all day long, had no energy and couldn't lose weight, wouldn't that make you a little depressed occasionally? And I'm sorry, two years after your child is born, it can no longer be called postpartum. Maybe post-postpartum.

And when I told him about the research I have done on my condition, he gave me a long lecture about how I can't believe every thing I read on the internet and he went to college for many years blah blah blah. He said he didn't like it when his patients did that. Seriously? If I were a doctor, I would want my patients to research their conditions, not just blindly and ignorantly accept everything I say as law.

And he gave me 11 refills of Prozac. That seems overkill to me. He is going to be really pissed when I tell him that I didn't fill the prescription.

Had to bitch a bit!

Trina

Christmas Shoes

You know that really sappy Christmas song about the boy who wanted to buy some Christmas shoes for his dying mother? And then they made a retarded TV movie about it? Well, I, too, have my own story of Christmas shoes. It may not be as touching, but here goes:

For Christmas, my brother-in-law that lives in New York sent everyone presents. When I opened my present, it was a pair of shoes. They are cute - brown leather flats with black trim and little hearts, stars, and circles on them. I do like them and wear them frequently.

Now, Mike works at Marc Jacobs, the designer, in New York. My shoes are from Marc Jacobs. Mike also accidentally left the price tag on the bottom of the shoes:

$325.

OH MY GOD. I have never spent more than $20 on pair of shoes. Never. I think I almost had a heart attack.

Most of the time we can barely pay our bills, have hardly any groceries, and almost never have extra money. Yet I have a $325 pair of shoes. I don't think my feet are worthy to wear $325 shoes!! If I'm being honest, eBay did cross my mind. I bet I could make $200 off these at least! haha. I wouldn't do that, though. I just have to pretend that they only cost him $20. That would mean he got about a 94% discount, so I seriously doubt it.

These shoes better last 17 years. lol.

I'll post a picture of them later... I'm sure you're all insanely jealous. lol.

Two Poems

Liar
I looked into your eyes,
Straight into your eyes
and I lied.

You looked back at me
accepted my words as truth
But you knew.
We just went on like it never happened-
it didn't happen.

It took many tears to face this
it took much anger and bitterness
and forgiveness.

Somehow we survived,
You and I.
Now I look into your eyes,
straight into your eyes.

Perceive
I perceive you as I do,
you're just a man.
perceptions can be deceiving.
As much as I would like to pretend to understand you-
I cannot see your heart, your thoughts, your soul...
Doubt creeps in often.
life steals away little peices of us.
We hurt eachother.
We tread on,
stumbling along.
And I love you
Whatever that word means-
However your recieve it-
I love you.

My Vase

Tears in my eyes.
Broken on the ground my vase lies;
and it held many things
dear to me.

I'll never piece it back together.
The shards are small and they're all scattered.
All it's wonders are shattered.

How beautiful it was!
Constructed in my darkest hours;
and filled with painstakingly concocted tales
Of places I've never been-
songs I've never sung-
battles I haven't won-
Of a life I haven't lived.

And without my flagon of lies,
who am I?
And now that everyone can see,
what must they think of me?

I close my eyes.
I breathe deep.
I had to break it.
I had to.
In my world of lies
the time has come for truth.

Me

Readers,

This is a diary of the life and times of Trina.

Personally, I think I am very funny. Nay, Hilarious! The problem is that I tend to be the only one who thinks that. I always say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I am trying to make new friends, trying to learn not to be such a social fuck-up.

In 2004, the summer after I graduated High School, I married Josh. Josh is the most amazing, wonderful, kind, intelligent person I have ever met. He is also a huge nerd. For all you single women out there who are looking for husband material, I highly suggest going to, let's say, a Star Trek convention. Or a Star Wars costume contest. What I am trying to tell you is that nerds make the greatest husbands. Sure, they may laugh like convulsing hyenas, and talk about computer games for hours and hours... and hours and hours and hours... but they make up for it in a million other ways.

So, back to my bio.

I married the summer after highschool, and found that I was pregnant six months later. I saw no reason to attend school because I was going to write award winning fantasy/science fiction novels and live off the royalties forever. So now I am a 23 year-old freshman. I still think college is overrated and will not hesitate to quit if something better comes along. Or if I win the lottery.

Aidan was born on November 17th, 2005. It took me a long time to balance being a mother and still being myself. And, let me tell you, being a mother is not the beautiful fantasy world that so many women make it out to be. Babies cry. Babies poop. Babies demand. Did I mention that babies cry? It didn't take long for me to fall in love with that crying little wrinkled up thing, though. And now I have an adorable little two-year-old.

And who I am? To sum it all up in a few words: I'm insane. I'll elaborate for you, because I have nothing better to do. I'm awkward and strange when I meet people. I say every little thought that pops into my head. (That wouldn't be so bad if I had normal thoughts.) I live in a fantasy world most of the time. I strongly dislike scotch tape. I always want everyone to like me, but I usually end up getting on everyone's nerves. I tell jokes and no one laughs but me. I will randomly break into hysterical laughter over something that I remember from yesterday. I am very lax about neatness and sometimes even personal hygiene(I'm sorry, but showering every day is just excessive.) I stand in the middle on most issues. I don't believe in global warming, the temperature of the earth has always been sporadic. I think that all of my health problems are caused by my thyroid. I tell random people about my thyroid problem because I don't want them to think I'm fat just because I'm lazy. I could go on, but when I get tired my brain gets all fuzzy and its hard to think... probably has something to do with my thyroid as well...

Sorry for that boring little bio, I had to get that out of the way though. I'll start posting soon.

Much love!

Trina