I mentioned yesterday that I’m going back to school. (I’m gonna be a high school English teacher. HOW RAD WILL I BE AT THAT? VERY! I KNOW!) I’m still raising three young’uns. And fixing a marriage. And helping my mom do a bunch of shit to her new house. And now I’m blogging again. Because somewhere along the way, I said to myself, “Self, you know what? You’re just not busy enough. How about you go ahead and blog again, especially now that you’re all sleep-deprived from dealing with housetraining a puppy?” And myself was like, “FUCKING A RIGHT! But mostly because THE ENTIRE WORLD NEEDS TO EXPERIENCE THE JOY OF BUTCH!!” Clearly, myself and I don’t have a lot of common sense.

But anyway. We got a new puppy last week. My mom let Matt name him, and Matt named the poor little dude “Butch.” My sister and I were deeply unsatisfied with this name for the dog so we named him The Ridiculous(ly Awesome) Butcher of Cats (he has a thing about my sister’s cat, Warren “The Toes” Johann aka Toes. You’ll meet Toes later), Butch for short. Plus, how funny is it to name a fluffy, little dog “Butch”? I mean, COME ON! Hilarious, right? Right.

Anyway, here’s Butch, our 12 week old Bichon Frise-Schnauzer mix. (I guess they’re supposed to be called “Chonzers” or some shit, but I refuse to have anything to do with that “these used to be free-to-good-home-puppies, but now you’re supposed to pay $1000 for them” designer dog bullshit. I have, however, referred to him as a Bichonauzer because it makes me lol to say out loud.)

OMFG! HOW CUTE IS THIS DOG? COMPLETELY! I KNOW!

I mean, just look at those eyes! AWWWWW!!

When I took this thing down a few months ago, I didn’t foresee ever starting it back up. Mostly because who wants to be that chick? You know, the one who’s like LIFE SUCKS! WOE! And for a long time, I’ve been that chick. I mean, hello – my husband got laid off. We decided to move in with my in-laws. I found out aforementioned husband was having an online affair. ALL IN ONE FUCKING DAY. So I’m not kicking my own ass over being that chick – I had a right. But after a while, when I was STILL being that chick, I was even sick of myself. I wasn’t going to put anyone else through that shit. Except Bill. But he deserved it.

But shit has changed. We don’t live with my in-laws anymore. (We live with Bill’s in-laws. Which is a long story.) Bill and I are working through the aftermath of the affair. Some days are better than others. Neither of us are working right now, but we’re both going back to school. Well, I’m going to finally finish college, and Bill is pursuing…he doesn’t know what yet. Which is a whole other can of worms that I’m not going to open right now.

In other words, I’m over being that chick. Really. I am. Okay, sometimes I’m over it. But I’m ready to stop hiding from the world. I’m also ready to stop keeping in touch with my friends by sending them mystery bags in Mafia Wars or mystery gifts in FarmVille. Sometimes both. Oh, what? I didn’t want to talk to anyone. So I said “I still love you” with Facebook apps. DON’T JUDGE ME.

So, yeah. I’m back. I don’t promise to post every day. I don’t promise to keep up with comments like I used to – I mean, I’m still answering all the comments, just not as they happen. I don’t promise to be a faithful reader of everyone’s blogs. I do promise that I care and that I’m trying. Also? I’m really grateful to all of you who stuck with me even when I was totally that chick.

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