Gawd it’s freakin’ hot outside.

Summertime always makes me want to switch my sleeping schedule from sleeping at night to sleeping during the day – JUST TO ESCAPE THE HEAT AND THE CONSTANT SUNLIGHT!

I also become SUPER lazy when its hot. Hence not being able to reach the computer in my office to blog…or write…or get prepared for the upcoming semester at the university. (Hasn’t stopped me from playing online video games, just stops me from doing anything else important.)

I don’t know how people do it in places that have sunlight for 18+ hours straight.

Weather in the desert is temperamental – or just plain mental – at best. One day it’ll be 90 degrees, a nice dry heat, slight breeze to make it bearable, and the next day it hits you in the face with 100+ degree weather and its fucking humid.

Where the humidity came from? No one knows…

We got back from Vegas about a week and a half ago and almost cried when we got back across NM state lines. It was cloudy, it was 85ish degrees all the way home and it was raining. Like real rain, not the occasional spurts of cloud piss we get in central New Mexico. Vegas was 117 degrees when we left – and miserable.

It even rained four out of the seven days last week here in the Land of Enchantment. SHOCK!

Needless to say, us desert people were exceptionally happy standing outside gawking and looking up at the rain as if it were something mystical and foreign to us.

Today I decided that the laziness needed to stop. My sister and I have been feeling the affects of supreme mid-summer lazy and we have had enough. So back to keyboard I go!

On a serious note, I hope everyone is enjoying their summer and that the weather hasn’t had any horrible affects on them. Stay safe, stay cool, stay hydrated.

I love air-conditioning,


hot summer

She is a pint-sized she devil in disguise as my little sister…

She terrifies me.

She is only a couple of years younger than me. She is tiny, olive skinned, with great hair and an obsession with shoes that borders a serious fetish.

She is one of my younger sisters and dear gawd does she know how to kick ass…

If she was an anime character, several years younger and all Japanese instead of just part, she would look a lot like this:

That thing she is holding...yeah...its something to beat me with.

That thing she is holding…yeah…its something to beat me with.

After she takes me to my dreaded physical and doctors appointment, we are laying on my bed talking about this and that when she looks me dead in the eyes and says, “Let’s talk about your schedule for the day.”

Fuck balls. She’s about to lay down the law.

“You need to pick up your prescription after Curious George gets home, work for a couple hours in your office, and then you owe me a chapter by tomorrow.”

Oh, yeah. Forgot I hired her to be my personal assistant/ editor/ ass kicker extraordinaire.

She follows it up by saying that it better get done before she gets home after her shift at the salon because we will be hitting the gym later tonight.

Again. Fuck balls.

This girl means business.

I walk her outside, tell her I love her and watch her unlock her car. Just before she gets in the car she informs me:

“By the way, if you don’t get that chapter done by tomorrow, you have to complete two of them. I was going to give you a day off on Saturday and say the next one is due by Sunday night since we have that last Adoption class to go to, but if you don’t get it done….you’ll owe me two chapters.” And with a deceptively cheerful wave and a quick, “Love you, bye!” she drove off.

How can someone so tiny be so intimidating?

So I been working in my office for the past few hours. The evil pixie herself is due home in about 15 minutes.

I better hop to it. She has great shoes, but they aren’t fun at all when being kicked up one’s ass.

Wishing I was Harriet Potter and had an amazing magic wand,


We can't help that we're fabulous.

We can’t help that we’re fabulous.

I’m working on it.

This inspired me…. I’m so inspired I’m going to go pick up “sick people food” as my husband is sick and not feeling well. Then I’m going to clean the front and back yards. Maybe make a trip to the dump to haul everything away. And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll do some homework and write.

But let’s be real here. Inspiration only lasts as long you let it. I wonder if I can inspire the cat do the dishes and the dogs to sweep and mop. 🙂


Rantfest 2013 – Just in time for my birthday!

I’m probably going to curse in this blog. A lot. You have been warned.

Note: It’s not that I don’t know other words to adequately express my feelings and emotions. I have a very nice, well-rounded, and vast vocabulary…its just that curse words make my soul happy and I don’t feel like punching someone after I use them. Simply put – I curse and rant to relieve stress.

Who doesn’t?

Second Note: I’m going to be a whiny bitch in this rant. It’s my blog. I can do so if I choose.

So anyway, I’ve come to the conclusion at my ripe old age of 25 (about to be 26 tomorrow) – THAT I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN UP DRINKING YEARS AGO.


I need some kind of vice to help explain the insanity that comes from a whopping case of pissed off and rampant frustration…but as of right now – I have nothing.

I even gave up smoking. The worst thing I do is smoke a very rare cigarette with my mom while we are chatting in her backyard, buy music on iTunes when I know we don’t have the money for it, and buy chocolate I know I shouldn’t be eating.

Scratch that last one. There is no reason for me NOT to eat chocolate.

So this week has been a cluster-fuck of issues. One after another. I have had a few happy moments, but it seems like year 2013 is not going to be the year where my dreams come true, the landscaping gets done, my novel gets finished, the cat changes his attitude and we become the best of friends, etc etc.

I have a list of shit I made years ago, and it keeps getting longer each year.

I won’t even bother going into detail about why everything has been so chaotic. I’ve even tried reasoning everything out as rationally as I am capable of – but FUCK – nothing seems to be falling into place no matter how hard I try.

I think the worst moment of 2013 came to me as I was furiously cutting down tree branches off the Junipers in the backyard yesterday afternoon. I really feel like I have wasted the greater portion of my young life. I haven’t done anything epically awesome, I haven’t really accomplished anything (Not really true – I AM graduating college in May), I have spent the better portion of my early teen years through now just trying to maintain a level of normal that is socially acceptable to everyone else.

I am going to be 26 fucking years old tomorrow and everything I promised myself the day I turned 25 would happen – NOPE, I haven’t accomplished a single. Fucking. One.

Talk about a bad day.


If I was a drinker, I would be knee deep in bottles of cheap wine, expensive bar snacks and possibly a harmonica. (I don’t even know how to play the harmonica but I think my mood would warrant me warbling out a few recognizable tunes on it.) I would almost certainly be one of those giggly-yet-still-depressed drunks. Only I would hope that I would look cool while being that level of schmammered – not like those hot-ass-messes you see roaming from bar to bar in a desperate attempt to assuage some kind of angst.

But alas, the plans for my birthday are as follows. I’m going to get up and clean the house that I probably won’t get around to deep spring-cleaning today since I’m doing the laundry. I’m going to have breakfast and probably go bag up the leaves Curious George raked for me the other day in the front yard. I’ll get that done and contemplate whether I feel up to cutting the rest of the branches that need to be cut in the back yard from the fucking Juniper trees that I have been wanting to get rid of for the last three years.


After that its shower and get ready to go pick up my mother in laws truck that she’s letting me borrow so that I can make several trips to the dump. I’m hauling carpet, all the raked up yard stuff, I have to take the plastics I’ve been saving to the recycle, and a few other things that can’t be recycled or thrown away.

When I come home I bet I’m going to smell fantastic. Another shower will probably be in order.

At that point Curious George will probably be home. He hasn’t been feeling well so its going to be another night of soup I think.

I just thought of something! Other than a very few family members and a couple of friends, no one probably knows its my birthday.


Yup. I don’t have a Facebook account. Shocking right?


Geez, I’m fuckin’ cranky today.

Maybe I should stop making lists of stuff I would like to accomplish in life. That shit never gets done. It’s when I’m bored that everything I need to get done – gets done.

Maybe I psychologically tricked myself into doing everything else EXCEPT what I need to do. How messed up is that? Or maybe I’m just freaking out because I am that much closer to an age I still think shouldn’t be old enough to make adult decisions. I mean seriously, 40 is the new 21, so technically I’m still in pampers.

Ok. Laundry needs to be switched and I’m done bitchin’. I really have no reason to complain. Life is good. Not the way I want it completely, but that just means I have to work harder.

It’s gonna take a lot of boredom to get everything accomplished in 2013.


This tickled me something fierce.

Happy Hump Day ya’ll. Can you do me a solid and have a birthday drink for me? I’d appreciate it.

Hugs, kisses and reach-arounds,


p.s. I told myself out loud that I didn’t give a shit about cursing in my blog and look what happened. Less cursing. Its psychological I tell you. Psycho-fucking-logical.

I love the smell of DESPERATION on my Sunday mornings.

Desperation smells delicious. Like candy-coated anxiety that got run through a blender. Just add some lime, half a tab of Xanex and VIOLA! You’ve got yourself a fun filled busy-as-hell Sunday. Especially when you couple it with the thought that nothing on your never-ending list of shit to do for school or home is going to get done.


I haven’t written in a LONG time – and for that I am truly sorry. For a writer, I sure do know how to slack off on updating a Daily writing blog. I just figured no one needs to hear my depression-oozing bitching and moaning about how life right now is driving me crazy and I am exceptionally crazy to begin with. That’s a ton of fucking crazy. We shall save that level of crap for my non-existent Facebook.

These past few weeks have been hellish. I got wretchedly sick, two weeks behind in my homework (totally my fault for being lazy), and had to fight the graduation office at my college because they told me – yet again – that the requirements for my degree changed and I do not, in fact, qualify to graduate at the end of the semester.

This is the third semester in a row that they have told this to me. I hung up the phone. I cried. I got angry. And then I went to the Dean. That worked, and I am now back on track to graduate at the end of the semester…..once I get a notification from the substitution office. Which I probably wont get until mere days before the deadline to submit the graduation packet.


To make a long anxiety/emo ridden story short, I usually get sick because of certain types of emotional stress that make me just want to hide under the covers for weeks on end (which I sort-of did). I had to catch up on my homework – which meant I was in my office for 12 hours a day for a week straight cramming and trying to get it all done and get A’s on everything.

And somehow, I managed to get those A’s, even though my work was so freaking late it was laughable.

I can just hear my mom’s soothing voice now. It’s the voice she uses when she knows I am playing hopscotch too close to the edge of that mental cliff:


Thanks, mom.

Anyway, today smells like desperation because I have a three hour exam to take for my Cognitive Psych class that I am not prepared for. I have to read ‘Ceremony’ by Leslie Marmon Silko for both my Native American Studies class and my Honors class. (I scored with that one. Only having to read one book for the week and it covers two classes – SWEET!) And then I have house cleaning and laundry to do.

Not gonna lie. I will probably not do the laundry and house cleaning until tomorrow. Maybe even Tuesday.

In the meantime, I have done everything this morning except what I am supposed to do.

I took a nap (right after waking up), I made myself breakfast since my husband had already left for the day to go hang out with his friends, fed the dogs, pet the cat, tripped over the cat, cursed loudly at the cat, restarted the load of laundry in the washer that I forgot about last night, gazed out the window at the wonderfully cloudy day, made myself a cup of Chamomile Mint tea.

At least I was somewhat productive. (Yes, I know I’m lying to myself. It’s Sunday so it’s all good.)

Hmmm….started writing this blog instead of opening my Cognitive book and reading the 150 pages that I was supposed to read previously so that I could get the coveted A on my exam.


I don’t even want to talk about the book that I am almost finished writing but can’t seem to find the non-lazy in me to finish it.

It’s embarrassing. That book was supposed to be finished almost a year ago.


My new ergonomic keyboard and ergonomic mouse come in on Monday. When I was working at the call center, I had those installed because typing nonstop for hours on end was KILLING my wrists. I got a great deal on Amazon and purchased them so I can use them with my laptop. Maybe I’ll be more productive then…..

Yeah I know, I rolled my eyes at that one too.

To catch you up on everything else: Curious George recently asked me for a large amount of money? Why…because he wants to start a home brewery of course. The She-Hitler in my class is an angry lesbian. I only like the nice lesbians. It’s entertaining to watch her hit on a very pretty – and uninterested – woman in class who happens to be a nice lesbian. It soothes my soul in a way that I shouldn’t be proud of, but I say fuck it, you make fun of my multiracial person and I will laugh at your rejected attempts to get some action. I have not seen Mr. Creepo on the bus lately, but that’s probably because I started taking my husband to work in our one car so I can use it to go to school on my school days. (It’s a waste of gas, so starting tomorrow, I’ll be walking and taking the bus again). I lost ten pounds! Other than that, just depression, insomnia and a lack of “Get your ass up and do something.”

I feel much better today though. Hopefully the mood has passed.

Alright, I’m going to go actually open up my book and get busy. I have until midnight to complete this thing and if it doesn’t get done…well…I certainly won’t be getting that A I love seeing so much on my transcripts.

Thanks for putting up with my shenanigans.




Aurora don’t like no broken peepers

Today started out excellent. Woke up ON TIME for the first time in forever. Was able to get breakfast done and ready ON TIME, got Curious George’s lunch packed ON TIME.

Curious George was out the door…ON TIME.


Then I did some work, took a nap and got ready for school. I walk down to the bus stop. It’s a nice day, perfect breeze and just enough clouds to cover the glare of the sun. I only got honked at once today and I was so dag-on cheerful I waved back, not offended in the least.

The bus comes…ON TIME!!!!! I get on the bus. I show my school pass and move to go find a seat. It’s packed today, which isn’t normal on my route. But just as I walk down the center isle, I feel a creepy sensation crawl from my breasts (which are glorious, I must admit) down to my lady bits (also glorious), and back up. I keep my eyes forward and on my goal of an empty seat.

As I pass, that icky awareness passes over my back-pack covered ass and I have to fight the urge to throw my hands back there and cover myself. I figure that’s normal every once in a while and I shouldn’t engage the person who is ogling my lady lumps.


I sit down and face forward, instantly plugging in my headphones and turning on my ‘bus route jams’. This works to keep conversation at a minimum.

And then, as I am changing the song from a bouncy over-done K-Pop song to a favorite rap song that I’ve been singing to lately (even though its ridiculous and makes no sense whatsoever), I feel it again.

That not-so-good tingly creeper feeling. Feels kinda oily. Makes you want to vomit.

I glance up and my eyes meet with a guy I swear has never seen the light of day (even though we live in the land of the sun.) He had a dark blue track suit on, dirty blonde hair, white Nikes, and almost no eyelids. His hair was cut into a bowl shape that would have looked better on nobody-EVER.

And those peepers. Creeped me the fuck out.

He wouldn’t blink. He just kept staring at me.


Yeah…he was about that color.

And no, he wasn’t an Albino.

I glance down at my iDouche and scroll through some music. He’s sitting close enough by me that I can tell he hasn’t moved and is still staring at me. I glance toward the front of the bus to gauge the distance to school.

Then he laughs. Laughs the creepy, “I just wrecked my Pedo-van in a high speed chase and that’s why I’m taking the bus” laugh. You know what I’m talking about right?


Several of us glance at him and shift uncomfortably. He is still staring at me, unblinking. I, being the snarky bitch I am, raise one eyebrow imperiously and stare him down.

We stared at each other like that for two city blocks. He wouldn’t look away and if possible, his eyes seemed to open wider. He had a thin smile that seemed to get bigger as his eyes did. It’s at this point that I realize I have caught the attention of a creeper with broken peepers and horrible bus etiquette.

And if it’s one thing Aurora don’t like – it’s broken peepers. But I can’t just yell out, “Hey, Creepo! You’re peepers are broken!”

I felt that would have been rude.

My stop comes and as soon as the bus slows down I hop out of my seat and instead of moving to get out from the front, I stride quickly to the back. I look back once to see that Mr. Broken Peepers the Creepo has also stood, still staring at me and is trying to go out the back door as well.


Thank goodness there was a ton of college kids on the bus today that all had to get off at that stop….because seriously. I think he would have followed me.

I’m off the bus and immediately wait for a small (VERY small) opening in traffic and run across the street. I could have sworn Mr. McCreeperton got off the bus, but once I reached the other side of the street I looked back and didn’t see him. I noticed one other girl that had crossed the street after me was looking back to. We looked at each other and shrugged.


Maybe he decided to creep on the bus a little more.

As I continued my walk to class I realized that he obviously knows which bus route I take and which school I go to know. Fuckballs.

Note to self: Consider switching up the route a little.

Afterthought: Next time wear a sports-bra if there is a possibility of having to run from Creepos. My boobies were ah-boucin’ like mad when I made my crazy dash across the street.

That’s probably why no one was honking at me in the traffic. They was watching the show.

Your welcome good traffic goers of central New Mexico. You’re welcome.

Big boobs can be such a hassle some times.

To Curious George, whom I know stalks me on my blog daily:

1. It’s OK to stalk me on my blog. We’re married. It’s kinda sexy.

2. We should probably sign up for those Krav Maga classes we talked about. Especially if I am going to have to go farther for University next semester.

I can throw down, don’t get me wrong, but even I know the importance of self-defense knowledge. Or in Krav Maga’s case, the importance of situational aggression.

Anyway, class was the usual. The She-Hitler was trying to make people feel stupid and ignorant and only made herself look like more a bitch. I walked to the bus stop and was saved from a short ride and long walk home from friend in class. (You are so sweet! My feets thank you!)

I’m home now and a little less creeped out from my adventure. Hopefully I won’t see that guy again.

And now to play video games!

Because that’s what one does when trying to avoid homework…  🙂


Ahhh…the sweet ache of mental and emotional stress.

I have a strong love/hate relationship with school.

I love that I have the opportunity to go to school and learn and try my best to better myself. I HATE/LOATHE the stress that comes with it. Being a perfectionist when it comes to my intellectual work, I often find that my stress comes from wanting to complete assignments and projects on my own time versus the usual couple of days that a professor will give students. Most of the time, professors aren’t looking for perfection or even an attempt at it. They just want to know that you know how to function in society and complete tasks. That’s it.

Contrary to popular belief, this is one area in my life that I do not procrastinate. Well…not enough for anyone to notice. My procrastination for school projects usually varies by the hour, not by days or weeks or months like everything else in my life.

On a happy note, I get more done when I have a good amount of mental stress. It’s the emotional stress that wars with it and almost completely incapacitates me at times.

I’m graduating at the end of this semester if all goes well. And that’s a good thing. But it’s also ridiculously daunting when you consider that I won’t have more than a two or three week break before heading right back to school. I know the end result is worth it because that’s what almost every teacher, administrator and faculty member has told me every time I try to bring up the topic. It’s like their cure-all way of pushing the issue of my stress aside while trying to convince themselves that what they just told me had some deep impact on my life.

Right. Deep impact.


Seriously, sometimes we students just need to bitch and moan and feel pitiful for two fucking seconds. All the response we need is the “swift kick in the ass” kind. For instance:

Me: I really hope I graduate this semester. I know I have everything lined up, but I’m seriously stressed out and getting nose-bleeds. My eyes feel like sand paper and I – 

Professor: Well, if you don’t suck it up and get ‘er done, being a ridiculous waste of space is definitely an alternative path you can take. See me later for more detailed instructions if you’re interested.

Or, even this would make me smile and be helpful:

Me: (Same as above)

Professor: Don’t make me cut you off at the knee caps, ok? Do it or I’ll sacrifice you to the pagan gods of old.

I respond joyously to verbal sparring. I’ve had a few teachers that resorted to this and it worked beautifully. Then, when they saw my stress was coming down and I was feeling better after they threatened me with decapitation and other forms of dismemberment, they threatened to call my mom.

…Works. Every. Time.

Dear mom,


Love you. Teehee!

They know what a big part my parentals play in my life.

In all honesty, before these precious few awesome professors kicked me out of their classrooms for being a nuisance, they always gave me really good tips on how to make college life easier. And for that, I put them on my Christmas card list.

I think that’s what most professors forget. Show me you’re human, show me you care, show me that even you struggled, threaten me with bodily harm if I don’t shut the hell up and put my big girl panties on, give me some great advice, and then send me on my way. All of this makes me believe – even if you don’t care – that you at least listened.

That’s all I’m looking for.

Side note: I really think a big part of my stress is coming from the knowledge that the amount of my school loans goes up every semester and I cry a little on the inside when it does. The good news is that I don’t have to pay on them until I have been out of school and graduated for 6 months. The bad news is – I’m still going to be broke.


Found a bit of funny, thought I would share:


It took my mom years to pay off her school loans. She is adamantly against them, but sometimes, your options are so limited that the loans are the preferred method of funding your education.

I have been awarded other scholarships, and to be honest, the price of education in New Mexico is relatively inexpensive, especially for in-state students. I think out-of state students actually receive a discount (in case you want to come to New Mexico for your education.)

Anyway, enough bitching. I have a huge list of homework that has to be done in the next four days and only some of my school books came in due to an ordering issue with the school and the publishers of the textbooks.

Shitty. I know.

As for those of you who inquired, and I appreciate it, yes, I am still writing. But no, I don’t want to send it out to beta readers other than my mom and sister at this time. It tends to give me unwanted stress when I don’t give out complete manuscripts and then have to meet another deadline on top of all the other deadlines I have.

This new way of writing and doing things is really helpful – at least to me. I don’t tell anyone what I am working on and simply let them know I am working on a project. I cut off all questions and comments with, “I don’t want to talk about it.” and leave it at that. Then when I am done, I will send out the manuscripts to my beta readers and go from there. That way, I only have to worry about future projects, not the current one that is a stop and go process.

Works for me.

It’s like tricking myself into believing I am not under any pressure to get this done by any other person’s date other than my own.

I actually work better under pressure, but right now, I really want my current projects to shine so I have been taking my time and really paying attention to what I put on paper. I hate that I keep telling people I don’t want to talk about it when I really do, and I hope those people who believe I can do this still believe in me. I would hate for me to take them my projects and they not bother to look at it.

Ok, I’m done feeling crazy about everything that I can change or help at the moment. I have loads of homework and a limited attention span. Better get to it.

Happy Hump day everyone!


Ooooohhhh yyyeeeeaaaahhhh……