I'd like to meet:
My Myspace page only shows up properly on Internet Explorer. If you've got Chrome or Safari, you're S.O.L. (sorry!) If you're on Firefox, let me know if it shows up well or not. :)
WAIT! ♥ Bored?
AIM me: Angelfinx | YIM me: abberzma
Quick disclaimer: My playlist is random and you'll hear just about anything. And yes, its invisible, so mute it if you don't want to hear it. <3
The quick and the short of it: I'm 23, married to a US Navy Submariner (currently an SLC instructor), and just had our first baby in June 2008 - a beautiful little girl named Abigail. My baby girl and husband are the most important things in my life. I own/operate a hobby rattery, create and maintain a few websites, and otherwise enjoy life. For my random rantings I choose not to put on myspace, go here .
Once upon a time, I had a stomach that didn't fall to the floor. Once I had hips that didn't serve as a baby saddle. Once I even had breasts that weren't on call 24 hours a day -- and "Will it show milk stains?" wasn't my criteria for picking an outfit.
Love is The Truth. Remember that.
I'm that zipper that gets stuck halfway down on your favorite jeans - infuriatingly complex, infuriatingly simple.
I don't care how big you are or tough you act; I'll try my hardest to intimidate you, and usually, I succeed.
If I were a crayon, I'd be black.
I may not be a mechanical genius, but don't take my project away from me and expect me to be happy about it.
I don't like most other women. We're bitches.
My default mode is not "Friend" its "Aquaintance." I may be friendly with you, but that does not necessarily mean I'm your friend. My friends are my family. There are certain boundaries that may not be crossed unless and until you have been grandfathered in. This includes any and all racial or sexist slurs and insults to my rats. Yes, I will be pissed at you if you bag on the furry loves of my life.
I may not win the peeing for distance category in the Drunk Olympics, but I can probably drink you under the table still. That doesn't mean I'm not completely retarded by the end of the night, but I still hang.
It's totally okay to heckle me if I don't comment crassly on the stupid ref call during the game.
Nobody in the inner circle has slept with me, but nobody needs to. It's a clear understanding that I AM the best you will NEVER have.
If your girlfriend screws you over, I'll be the first in line to fuck her up for you. Just because YOU are too nice to hit a girl does not mean that I am. And ladies, if that disturbs you; put on your big girl panties and deal.
I own, quite possibly, the coolest Paint horses around -- a bay breeding stock rabicano (above), and a sorrel frame overo medicine hat. My baby girl is the mare, Amy, I bought her when she was 4 months old. Her registered name is Double Zout , which is Dutch for Double the Salt. No, I'm not Dutch. Neither is she. She's known for pulling telephone poles over, stealing paperback books, and eating hair. She also drinks beer and soda out of a can or bottle, eats Peach Rings and thinks peppermint candies are highly cool. The newcomer is the gelding, Hunter. His registered name is Sirpass , but we just call him Junior. We named him after my friend Dan (below, on Junior); and ironically resembles him a lot. He loves peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, curly fries (warm or cold!), detests Dr. Pepper, and is a total goober for any sort of horsey treat.
There are a hair over few people not in my family that I consider family members - in fact, if you see them on my front page, thats probably them. Most of these people know who they are. Some need help figuring it out. Either way; I love them, and they're very special people to be considered part of the family conglomorate.
My mother and I are best friends and I do a lot with her.. I always have. I was never a shithead teenager with her. I think teenagers who hate their parents just to be "hardcore" are those individuals who should be publically bitchslapped. My parents aren't the ones who screwed me up, I'm just a shithead.
Anti-war is fine, but anti-military makes you a degenerate. There are no two ways about this. Do not debate with a Navy wife. You will not win.
I grew up on a working [albeit, small] ranch.
I could handle five different types of weapon by the age of 13 and my aim is enough to be scary.
That doesn't necessarily mean my aim is good.
Despite that I love all animals, I am not a "humaniac". Humaniacs are morons. Any major extremist group is really, ultimately, a stupid idea. Come on... A vegetarian makes a "better lover"? We disagree with murder so we'll bomb an abortion clinic? Idiots! GOSH!
I'm pro-choice and I'm democratic. You don't want to talk politics with me unless you agree with me. It will probably lead to a debate over morals. In a moral debate, your opponent is always wrong. I'll be happy to prove this point if necessary.
I'm a Wiccan Witch. Yes, I practice witchcraft. No, I can't turn your brother into a monkey. No, I can't turn you into a monkey either. Oh, and between you and me? Harry Potter? Yeah, fiction, Muffy, fiction.
I'm married to and completely in love with a USN Submariner; he's my whole world and probably one of the only reasons I'm not a crazy rat woman or something. He makes me feel beautiful and valuable, he makes my life worthwhile; beyond any doubt the most awesome man e v e r and we're an interesting pair. I'm Irish. He's Scottish. Together we shall have great fun raising miniature alcoholics in skirts.
Surprise! On October 14th, 2007 I found out that I was pregnant with our first child. On December 27th, we found out it was Abigail Teran. We welcomed her into the world June 10th, 2008 via scheduled c-section. And yes, I said first. Who knows how many we'll actually end up with. We've got at least three names picked out.
I shave my legs every day. If I don't, I at least say I do, and claim that the hair grows faster than I can successfully keep up with.
I stick steadfastly to the idea that I look terrible without makeup, and yet 90% of the time I'm much too lazy to put it on.
I'll love you like a sibling, like an ex, and like a best friend.. all at once, all the time. No matter how many times you crap on me, ignore me, or blow me off, I'll still always answer my phone when you call -- because I'm your friend.
And odds are I'll probably do the same thing to you eventually anyway.
I glow in the dark. Redheads do that.
Yes, the curtains match the rug. No, you may not see.
I own rats. Wait. Do me a favor? Don't say "Ew" when I say that.
My rats are my children -- and they are proably more intelligent a lot of the people I know -- that's not saying a lot, since I know some really stupid people, but still. Rats are underestimated by 75% of the population, idolized by at least 10%, and hated by a good 15% for seriously ridiculous reasons.
I have ferrets. Three - Matthew, Tinker & Zzyzx. They rock. Seriously, if you've never met a ferret; you need to. Some people claim they're stinky and mean - and okay, I can agree with the stinky part usually - but they are SO sweet. They're my homies. My furry homies.
I sat on Jenna Jameson's lap. We were both clothed, so the fantasy ends there. I unfortunately have no photographic proof to back up this claim, but come on, what chick would brag about sitting on Jenna's lap unless it was true?!
Shameless website plug: solitary-witch.com
Another: ratterfly.com
Red is the ultimate cure for sadness.
--Bill Blass.
Sailors come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes, and states of sobriety, misery, and confusion.
They are sly as a fox, have the nerve of a dope addict, the sincerity of a politician, and the subtly of Mt. Saint Helen.
They are extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.
A sailor is a sailor all his life.
He is a magical creature.
You can kick him out of your house but not out of your heart.
You can take him off your mailing list but not off your mind.
Sailors are found everywhere... in love, in battle, in lust, in trouble, in debt, in bars (and behind them).
No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you.
No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter or clean clothes or a six pack.
A sailor is a genius with a deck of cards, a millionaire without a cent and brave without a grain of sense.
He is the PROTECTOR OF AMERICA, with the latest copy of Playboy in his back pocket.
When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, a five dollar bill.. or a woman he can count on.
Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them, the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together.
You can beat their bodies but not their minds.
You can tame their hearts but not their souls.
He likes girls, females, women, ladies, and the opposite sex.
He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, eating chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform, and the day before payday.
You may as well give in.
He is your long distance lover.. he is your steel eyed, warm smiling, blank minded, hyperactive, over reacting, curious, passive, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry..
And will always be there for you regardless of how long its been since you've last talked.
Hey, lady:
My New Years Resolution...
To be 100% DWARF by Dec. 31st, 2009.
Pint may finally be pregnant (whoop!)
I expect Himalayan and Siamese out of her - all red eye.
Pinch is currently being bred to Gizzard for black & white babies, potential for downunder and tri-amese, and dumbo.
Assumption is being bred to Nubs for a Burmese/Siamese litter -- should be black-eyed Siamese. (double whoop!)
Discounts for friends and family =) Msg me!!
Relationships don't work the way they do on television and in the movies: Will they, won't they, and then they finally do and they're happy forever -- gimme a break. Nine out of ten of them end because they weren't right for each other to begin with, and half the ones that get married get divorced, anyway. And I'm telling you right now, through all this stuff, I have not become a cynic, I haven't. Yes, I do happen to believe that love is mainly about pushing chocolate-covered candies and, you know, in some cultures, a chicken. You can call me a sucker, I don't care, 'cause I do...believe in it. Bottom line...is the couples that are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but, the big difference is, they don't let it take 'em down.
- Dr. Cox, Scrubs