tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84643844979063437582012-02-16T20:44:23.658-08:00tdonovanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238745937055128380noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464384497906343758.post-36548003613846298912010-10-21T06:56:00.000-07:002010-10-21T06:56:04.704-07:00I want everyone to see what kind of car I drive. How stupidly self-important is that? And just in case you think I wasn't going to tell you what kind of car I drive... think again...I drive a Denali. I didn't even know what a Denali was until I got one about a year ago. We "needed" something bigger since we were going to be the parents of two. AND we have &nbsp;flippin' dog. That takes room, too.... right? So we justify buying this $40,000 car ( it was used) because we just can't get along without it. And get this, if I see somebody I know &nbsp;at the grocery store, I actually try to wait around in the parking lot a bit so that I increase their chances of seeing me in my big black fancy expensive SUV. I loathe people like me.Why do I need this kind of validation? I don't have a fancy house. We aren't rolling in the dough (especially&nbsp;since I am not currently working). My bedroom is an upstairs loft with no bathroom or closet.Our bed sits directly on the blue, dog-hair infested carpet. We keep our worn, ill-fitting clothes in rubbermade tubs on the floor by the window. I own three pairs of shoes. My sun glasses broke a month ago and have not been replaced. But, I get to drive a luxury SUV. I kinda feel like it tells the world that my husband works hard for us, that we made the right choices, that we didn't party our 20's away and look what it got us. A gas devouring SUV with a DVD player and heated seats. WTF.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464384497906343758-3654800361384629891?l=butiloveyouanyway.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>tdonovanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238745937055128380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464384497906343758.post-67843808688413506802010-10-13T15:52:00.000-07:002010-10-13T19:28:12.736-07:00That's my daughter. JJ. The redhead herself. She's something of a mystery to me - a contrast between pure, unadulterated energy and a clear and steadfast sweetness that leaves her companions with feelings of overwhelming love and desperate exhaustion. Loving her is easy and hard all at the same time. She's like chocolate with a pinch of&nbsp;cayenne. Smart, sassy, walked at nine months, but can't eat a meal without making a mess. That's why today, like many days before, she is naked, eating a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464384497906343758-6784380868841350680?l=butiloveyouanyway.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>tdonovanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238745937055128380noreply@blogger.com0