Why do I bother speaking?

    Posted on: June 22nd, 2017 by Randi No Comments



    There are some things even I won’t share with the world. This post is private and can only be seen by approved, registered members of this site. If you’d like to view posts like these, please contact me so I can sign you up. (randiftw@gmail.com or @randiftw).

    Of course…

    Posted on: June 9th, 2017 by Randi No Comments



    There are some things even I won’t share with the world. This post is private and can only be seen by approved, registered members of this site. If you’d like to view posts like these, please contact me so I can sign you up. (randiftw@gmail.com or @randiftw).

    I Expected This

    Posted on: June 7th, 2017 by Randi No Comments



    There are some things even I won’t share with the world. This post is private and can only be seen by approved, registered members of this site. If you’d like to view posts like these, please contact me so I can sign you up. (randiftw@gmail.com or @randiftw).



    Posted on: February 16th, 2017 by Randi No Comments



    There are some things even I won’t share with the world. This post is private and can only be seen by approved, registered members of this site. If you’d like to view posts like these, please contact me so I can sign you up. (randiftw@gmail.com or @randiftw).


    We bought a home!

    Posted on: November 17th, 2016 by Randi 4 Comments

    Yes, you read that right. Our very first home. We are both so very excited and can’t wait to move in. We’re in the process of painting and will be moving in the day after Thanksgiving. It has 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, an open floor plan, a nice yard for the doggies, laundry room and all new appliances. We’ll have central air in the summer time and the previous owners had cats too so their are carpeted shelves hung above the doors in the hallway.

    We’ve been trying to get out of this shitty neighborhood for so long and now we finally can. It’s a very nice, quiet area. We’re not far from my mom and siblings either. However, my brother, Patrick, will be moving out. This will be just Andrew and me. It’s so exciting. This means the beginning of so many good things and memories. I can’t even believe we are finally there.

    Once we’re in and begin to make some changes, I’ll be posting more photos. It only needs a little bit of work, all cosmetic, and we are so excited to do it because it’s OURS. I can’t wait for the nice weather so I can paint the door and start to garden. We are beside ourselves with excitement. We can’t wait to be moved in.

    9 Years

    Posted on: October 15th, 2016 by Randi No Comments

    aboutmepic9 years ago, Andrew and I sat on my couch, his head in my lap, and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I had been waiting for that moment for a while and as simple as it sounds, it was the sweetest thing. When I said yes, he kissed me and my eyes welled up. I was 16 years old and I thought he was cute and funny and so smart. I never thought we’d be here, 9 years later, getting ready to get married. You don’t meet the one at 16 unless you’re in a movie and I thought it would take me a long time.

    I can’t say for certain when we crossed over from gf/bf to soul mates. I guess I expected there to be a definitive moment. There wasn’t, it just happened gradually. You could say that I knew it was something really special when we made it through months of being long distance when I went away to school. Nobody expected it to work, and as much as I loved him even I was fearful. I watched my friends’ relationships drop like flies around me. We spoke every night and texted all day. It was a rough 6 months but we made it through.  We did it again when he had to move and thanks to my mom and grandma they made sure I never went too long without seeing him. I hated when he would go and one day he came over and just never left.

    He was there for me when I lost my grandfather and couldn’t have been more sweet and comforting. I was there for him when he lost his father. Every single one of his tears shattered my heart. We’ve been through a lot together and we will go through a hell of a lot more. He is my best friend and I can’t imagine not having him in my life. I have no idea where I’d be. He has been with me for more than 1/3 of my life and I have many more memories of us together than not.

    I still get butterflies with him and he makes me laugh uncontrollably constantly. We make bad jokes and laugh at each other. We fight like an old married couple and I call him Walter and he calls me Diane. He’s my player 2 and we yell at each other when we are bad. He does whatever he can to put a smile on my face. The love I feel for him is beyond words. He is my entire world.

    Neither of us is really interested in an extravagant display of a wedding. We aren’t comfortable with getting up in front of a bunch of people and prefer to avoid public displays of affection. Weddings are expensive and a lot of work to plan. Sure, I’d be happy to have a wedding if someone else planned and paid for it. That’s not happening for us and both of us would much prefer to put any extra money towards a house. So, that’s what we planned to do.

    Andrew and I have are having a self uniting marriage1. We are tying the knot ourselves. I’m not worrying about possibly regretting not having a wedding. If we decide we do want one, we can do a vow renewal down the road. What’s important is we are married. What’s important is that I finally get to call the man I love my husband. We applied for the license yesterday and will get our license on Monday. Even if we need to wait until Monday for it to be “legal”, for all intents and purposes we are married and I haven’t been able to stop smiling since.

    1. A self-uniting marriage is one in which the couple are married without the presence of a third-party officiant. Although non-denominational, this method of getting married is sometimes referred to as a “Quaker Marriage”.

    Go to fucking hell

    Posted on: September 10th, 2016 by Randi No Comments

    I debated posting this. I didn’t want to put them on MY blog because they are not a part of MY life. However, I want to get this out and make it known to those who may or may not be reading how I’m feeling. I hope he comes across this but my guess is she was the only one who made him think about me at all.

    My “grandmother” died back in March (please, for the love of god, note the super sarcastic quotes around grandmother). Not my grandmother, my father’s mother. Don’t know much about my father? That goes for both of us. So, I’m going to give you about as much as I have, as quickly as possible.

    My mom and father conceived me when they were 15/16. For what it’s worth, I truly believe my mother and father were in love. Believe it or not, I was planned as an attempt to keep my father in Pennsylvania. I want to add that having me WAS HIS IDEA. However, things became too real for him. My father’s family gave him a way out of his responsibilities. He took it and he never looked back. He had a son only a couple of years after I was born that he raised. I have never met nor spoken to him*. He moved to Florida to be with his family (and escape fatherhood).

    When I was 8, we moved to Florida, for different reasons. He was about 6 hours away from where I lived. My mom called him to come see me often but he always said it “wasn’t a good day”. My aunt and uncle who lived in PA came to see us when we lived in Florida. We put them back on a plane when I had the following conversation with my mother:

    Me: Where does my father live?
    Mom: [General Area]
    Me: And how far is that?
    Mom: About 6 hours.
    Me: And Aunt Angel, who is terrified of flying, came to see me?

    Until that moment my mom tried to cover for him. She told me “We were young, dumb, and stupid.” I was a bright kid. I understood that. It was that moment, in the airport, that I realized what kind of person my father was. He was no longer “young, dumb, and stupid”. All I needed to know was my mother stayed and to this day that’s all I need to know. [In the off chance he is reading this, he needs to know how much of a coward I believe he is, to leave a 16 year old girl with a baby. There are times where I am glad he never stepped into my life because he doesn’t deserve it. He left a teenager to raise his child alone. I, as I am now, would never forgive him for that] He had another kid who he was there for. He was raising his son. He left my mother to fend for herself. I recall a picture that he sent my mother of my half brother playing with one of those ride on trucks. I didn’t have one of those. In my very young mind, I thought ,”Maybe if my dad** had been around, I would have one.” It escalated from there. He left me with my mother and didn’t bother to check in on me. I’d often think about how different my life would be had he been in it or did he ever think about me? That was really it. 98% of the time, I didn’t feel like I was lacking anything. This is really where my definition of grandma comes in to play. She was there for me. There were times where we had to go without, I’ve played my fair share of card games by candle light but Christmases at a young age and utilities on occasion are owed to my Grandma. My mom tried the best she could but she was on her own. My grandma supplied us with school supplies, she babysat, she took us to circuses and fairs that I remember as an adult. I know my grandma.

    When I was 16, Linda wrote me a message on MySpace and tried to start a relationship. Most conversations led to her blaming my mother for keeping me from my father (not true in the fucking slightest, my mom begged him to see me when we lived in the same state). Little did she know my mother and I shared everything. Things started with her trying to tell me how old I was (she was off a year and ARGUING with me) to having a friend of hers try to convince me to run away from my mother. I’m not joking. I chose to end the “relationship” we had. I never spoke to my father during it. Despite he and Linda owning a business together and working together and him KNOWING she was talking to me, he chose to “wait for me to come to him”. I had no intention of doing that and I never have. By that point, I expected and DESERVED an apology. I still do. That was the last contact I had with her. It was Myspace messages and she sent me one birthday email I think the next year (I had stopped speaking to her by then) that I didn’t discover until a couple of years later since I had changed emails.

    I feel nothing knowing that she is dead. I just want that known. She is a stranger. I just don’t feel anything. I have cried over celebrity deaths and I am an easy cryer. I cry about damn near everything. I don’t feel ANYTHING for this woman. Had she said the truth when we spoke or “I tried to get your father to visit you” I may have believed her. I may have latched on to her and kept her around (ignored my father) and acknowledge that she tried. She never said that. My father had every opportunity in the world to see me, to try. If I mattered at all to him, he would have come back to PA and tried to fight for custody. Instead I only have the excuse that “my mother would have had him arrested”. No, the state would have arrested him for the back child support. My mother had nothing to do with that. However, they were sure that I was just as young, dumb, and stupid as he was.

    The reason I am writing this is simply because I am furious that I was mentioned in her obituary. That’s what makes me feel anything about all of this. Because, no joke, I can only think, “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?” That’s what I feel. It infuriates me. I am so mad, I am on the verge of tears. That’s all I feel. I have no idea who wrote that obituary but the thought of my father having anything to do with it makes my knuckles white with rage. How fucking dare you drop my name? How fucking dare you say she was a grandmother to me? I didn’t know her. Also, how fucking dare you slight your son? That was his grandmother***, solely his, but you made sure to mention me first, because I was first born? That’s just gross. I NEVER ONCE met you. I’m not even sure my mother met you, since I only recall her mentioning my father’s grandmother. But I know you were out there telling your friends and anyone who would listen that my bitch of a mother kept me from him. I know that because your friend tried to practically kidnap me via MySpace. Everyone thinks that Michael was some man who wanted to be there for his kid but that is a fucking lie. Thank god for my mother and my family who were there for me, who raised me to know better. The ones who raised me to know better than to write on her obituary page that you are all a bunch of fucking liars and I wish everyone knew what kind of people they are. I feel like I was used when I was written into it. I feel like someone thought about me and how I was “kept from my family” Had I known she was dying I would have told them to “Get Fucked”. I know they are out there telling their family and friends what a terrible person my mother is for keeping me away from him. The truth is, had he come to me years ago, he could have had a chance of salvaging this. He could have. Instead, he was a coward who turned away from his daughter. He knew what he was doing and I hope when he’s on his deathbed he thinks of me. I hope he wants to make things right. I hope he regrets not being there. I do not apologize when I say, “Tough fucking shit”. You had your chance. 25 years is too long to wait for you to “grow up” and I hope I am his last thought. I won’t cry. I won’t feel anything but rage that you name dropped me (AND FUCKING SPELLED MY NAME WRONG IN YOUR MOTHER’S OBITUARY.)

    If I believed in hell, I’d tell you to rot in it. To know that my father’s father left him and he felt that it was best to leave me… I could never understand that. I can’t wait to have my first child and I already can’t understand people that would leave their child behind. I have no feelings for deadbeats. You. are. scum.

    * Not unless you count the time he called the house to speak to my mother when I was a toddler (probably to ask my mom for permission to claim me on his taxes like he did every year) and I answered the phone. When I said, “Who dis?” he said, “Your Daddy.” and I freaked out screaming I didn’t have a daddy and listing the family members I do have.

    ** There was a conversation I had at my aunt’s house with my mom, uncle, and aunt present where I said I wish I had my dad. And my mother corrected me to tell me that I didn’t have a dad, he was my father. Semantics, right? No. She was perfectly in the right. She stuck up for him for the longest time but she was correct. He was my father, not my dad. Not even fucking close.

    *** I had a brief “relationship?” (I guess you would call it) with my half brother. I have NO hard feelings for him. We didn’t keep up because honestly, I was a 16 year old girl and he was a 12ish year old boy. We had nothing in common except a father. That was it. If he were to message me right now, I would talk to him.

    Also, because I have not said it. Thank you to my mom, my grandma, and my step dad who were there for me, raised me right, and took care of me. I am the person I am because of you all and for what it’s worth, I am proud of the woman I have become. I didn’t need him because I had you.

    Blood is supposed to be thicker

    Posted on: July 2nd, 2016 by Randi 1 Comment

    When I was growing up, my mom and my aunt “shared custody” of my brother and me. My mom, a single mother, worked a lot and realized babysitters cost a lot. One job was specifically for paying the babysitter. So it became a regular thing that we would go to my aunt’s house. At one point, they were trading off 3-4 nights a week. Around this point, my aunt met her husband (not married until 2008) who had a daughter a year younger than me, Christina. I don’t talk about Christina a lot on here because I don’t see her very often. She is my oldest and best friend and also my cousin by marriage. We spent a lot of time at my aunt’s house and Christina came over a lot to to be with her father, my uncle. We also spent a lot of time with my aunt alone. She was, for all intents and purposes, my second mother. I remember laying on the couch with her cuddling while I watched Are You Afraid of the Dark and she’d buy us the cool snacks. She was surprisingly a bit more strict than my mom but that didn’t matter early on. She was there for everything just like my mom was. My brother and I didn’t know our fathers so with my mom and aunt I never felt like I was missing anything. I did have two parents.

    I remember that things got more difficult as we got older. Her husband seemed to pick on my brother a lot. Christina, I love her to the moon and back, but she was a little bitch. She’ll admit that. She did things that her father would find a way to blame on Patrick or me. When I was 12, my aunt showed up at the door to tell my mom that money was missing from her dresser, where she always laid out her tips after work. She said Christina said I took it or her husband accused me, not sure. I wasn’t a theif. My mom would come home from work, drop her pants in the bathroom and any change that fell out and landed on the floor stayed there. We knew better than to steal. My mom confronted me while my aunt stood there. I told her I didn’t and my mom didn’t believe me. That hurt more than the smack I received when I tried to walk away because there was only so many times I could say “I didn’t do it”. After I went to my room, my mom says that my aunt started to think *maybe* it wasn’t me. Maybe Christina did it. It was Christina. My aunt caught her with her ring a few days later, also on her dresser.

    Her husband had convinced her that I stole from her and even though she knew I wasn’t like that, she took his side and that hurt so much. My mom and she raised me better than that. Our time at my aunts came to a halt fairly quickly. I was hurt that she/he didn’t trust me and he wasn’t very nice to my brother. We just stopped going. She was still very involved in our lives, though. I loved her and I still wanted to be around her. We spent holidays together. She came to graduations. Over time, we spent less and less time together and sided with her husband more and more.

    What’s weird is my mom and her were fairly close through all of this. They fought but they were a team. Somewhere in all of this, there was a massive fight over her husband and my mom and she stopped speaking. She got married in 2008 and we were in her wedding, Patrick and I and Zack and Breya. My mom tried to be there for her but she was met with attitude at every turn. They didn’t speak except when forced to, when she came for birthdays and such.

    I’m going to back up a bit to explain something. I have an uncle. He lived with my aunt while we were going over there. He had the spare bedroom and we barely saw him. Remember we were there half time. We saw him come out for food but other than that, he spent all of his time in his room. He moved out when I was still fairly young. Patrick and I only saw him on holidays and then my aunt’s wedding and then when my grandfather died in 2011. He was pretty much nonexistent in our lives. No idea why.

    When my grandfather died, he blamed my grandmother. For some reason, my uncle was my aunt’s favorite sibling and either she sided with him because of that or because she blamed my grandfather too. I still don’t know. The funeral was the last time I saw or even spoke to my uncle. I’m not kidding. Not a single word. My brother saw him at a store once and he rushed out of the door. He also saw him out at a bar and he said two words to him and walked away. He is not family. I’m indifferent to him.

    My aunt on the other hand, we have history. It still hurts now and then when I think about how she picked her husband over us when she thought of us as her own children. We’ve spoken, she tries to call every year on or around our birthdays and we go out to lunch but it feels forced and it’s not the same. I feel like it’s weird for her that I’m an adult, maybe because she missed it all. We make small talk but I’m not going to talk to her about the state of my relationship with Andrew. The last time I really saw her as family was the Christmas after Andrew and I got together (when I was 16). She did the whole “if you hurt her, I’ll kill you” thing. And it seemed mean since she wasn’t all that involed in my life at that point nor did she even know Andrew. It wasn’t that it didn’t seem sincere, just that it sounded more like a threat. She didn’t know Andrew, my mom did and she loved him and trusted him.

    This was long but my point is this, Patrick and I had not only our fathers abandon us, but our aunt and uncle as well. It sucks, my family was so close when I was little and things just got worse and worse.

    That brings me to today. Zack and Breya are 14 and almost 11. They don’t know my aunt and uncle. My mom said she had a talk with Breya and mentioned Christina being aunt’s husband’s daughter. She thought Christina was “always in our lives”. My mom explained that she was always in (Breya’s) life but we met because she is his daughter. She doesn’t know them. Christina is my best friend and even though we don’t spend nearly as much time with her as I’d like, she’s been around the kids. They know her.

    Patrick lives with me. He moved in with Andrew and I when we moved out. My brother rents a room from us and works a lot but not nearly as much as he acts like. Zack and Breya come to my house nearly every other weekend. Not always. I’m not going to lie but they come pretty often. I see them at the very least, once a month, and Zack and talk fairly frequently. I wish Breya would master texting or realize she can text me. I love them to pieces. On the weekends that they are here, Patrick works. You might think that’s not his fault and I would normally agree with you however their father, Bobby, gets them on the off weekends. I’m flexible, he is not. So we’ve switch weekends on occasions. And my brother always moves his weekends to work to coincide with their weekends with me. They see him for 30 seconds as he grabs his keys and walks out of the door. Zack looked up to Patrick before we moved. Now, he looks up to Andrew, his brother in law, because that’s who he knows. My brother has promised to take him fishing, to take him to the firehouse, to hang out with him and he has let him down every time. They same things my uncle did to Patrick. The difference between Zack and Patrick is that Patrick was a much more emotional child than Zack is. Every time Patrick got stood up, he bawled. He was heart broken but he. always. fell. for. it. That is not a slight at him. He was surrounded by women and was much more emotional and open about his feelings. Zack, on the other hand, is much more macho than Patrick was. It hurt him at first but he’s learned to not fall for it and if it hurts him, he tries to not let it show. I know he’s heartbroken. Patrick and I were when our own family abandoned us. This is Zack’s big brother. His role model. Zack is now closer to Andrew than he is to Patrick. As wonderful as that is, it sucks. His brother should be there for him. What kind of person has that done to him and turns around and does it to someone else. Someone you supposedly love. He’s so caught up in his own life that he forgets or doesn’t care that he is breaking his brother’s heart.

    I want to say that growing up, neither of us had a father. I’ve gotten shit for this before but I’m going to say it again. I was raised without a father, therefore I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything by not having one. I’m a girl, I needed my mother. I had my mother and my aunt, in the beginning. Yeah, I was a bit jealous of my friends who had their dad in their lives but I don’t feel like I missed anything serious. My mom was everything I needed and I think I’m a fairly normal person. My brother, on the other hand, struggled a lot by not having his father around and he latched on to every male figure in his life. My grandfather who couldn’t leave his bed, my uncle who didn’t care for his feelings at all, my aunt’s husband who wasn’t the nicest to him. It felt like everyone except my step dad, Bobby, who does not get as much credit in our upbringing as he deserves. My mom did a shit ton for us, but Bobby came into our lives when I was 8 and has been there for us and loved us like his own. He left the parenting (of us) to my mother but he was there if we needed him.

    Zack and Breya and I are very close. I’ve spent a lot of time with them. I wasn’t the best sibling always because for the early years, I felt forced to raise kids that weren’t mine. But I’ve done homework with them, I’ve gotten them up in the mornings, I took care of boo boos, I’ve yelled and disciplined them. I wasn’t a #1 parent by any means but I love them as if they were my own. Now that they are older and I’m not so much of a hard ass on them because I don’t have to be, they are cool kids. They are little adults, smartasses but so am I. I am their big sister and not for ONE FUCKING SECOND can I imagine just cutting them out of my life. It’s only going to get better from here. Breya is excited to be an aunt to my children and Zack probably doesn’t care either way but would make an awesome uncle. I expect that they’ll only come around more often.

    My mom had tried to talk to Patrick about breaking Zack’s heart. Hell, she’s tried to talk to him about the way he cuts us all out of his life but to no avail. He is so wrapped up in his own shit that he doesn’t care. I don’t get it but I feel for Zack and Breya. My fear is that one day, Andrew and I are going to buy a house. We want to do this on our own and therefore, Patrick won’t be coming. If he doesn’t live with us, we may never see him. He’s going to go the way of my aunt and uncle and I don’t know why. It’s like we had very separate upbringings. Like he didn’t experience the same things. It hurts me to think about Zack and Breya not knowing him like they know me. It feels surreal because he is their brother, not a cousin twice removed or something. I couldn’t imagine cutting them out of my life but he seems to have no problem doing it. I wish he’d figure it out and realize this is going to damage any sort of relationship he may want when they are older. He’s my brother and as much of an asshole as he is, HE’S MY BROTHER. He will still be invited to holidays and such and I’ll still call him but it’s up to him whether he shows up or returns our calls.

    Our 8th Anniversary

    Posted on: October 17th, 2015 by Randi No Comments

    Yesterday was our 8th anniversary. Our fucking 8th. I know I’ve been with him a long time but 8 YEARS?! That is 1/3 of my life. I don’t even know how to begin imaging a life without him. At this point, life before him is fleeting memories. I was only 16 years old when I met him and we got together. Never in my life did I imagine he was THE ONE. I was 16, I never openly thought about it but if you had asked 16 year old me who I saw myself with in 5 years, he wasn’t it. Not because I didn’t love him. Simply because I had dated other guys and I was in high school. You only marry your high school sweetheart in movies.
    We got engaged!! I couldn’t explain in words what that means to me. I am over the moon with excitement and I’m looking forward to our wedding now. I want to say how excited I am how well Andrew’s family took it but I’m not. They were so excited for us. 8 years together is no rush job.
    I haven’t stopped staring at my ring. Yes, I picked it out. But I never expected to love it so much. 50% is how pretty it is. The other 50% is that he GAVE IT TO ME and what it means. I feel like I’ve fallen in love with him all over again.
    I bawled. Like a god damned baby. He presented this: 

    I saw the edible arrangement and portal box and I was so surprised. That was enough to excite me. He said the portal box had more presents inside. I guess I thought he had the ring. I opened the box and he said, “You have to choose one.” That was it. I cried. I have watched proposals on YouTube before and I cry every time. My biggest fear is that I would be too shocked to cry. When he told me to choose I lost it. I hesitated for a moment because I love the love ball but I also have a love for the premier ball. Knowing what was happening and that the love ball was the center I chose that one and he helped me open it. I’m crying like an idiot. Who cries at a proposal that you know is coming? He did so well that I was shocked.
    He got down on one knee. The exact wording of what he said is lost in the void as I tried to gain my composure. His voice cracked and tears welled up in his eyes. He said he loved me and that every day with me was better than the last. Even when we were fighting. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And he asked me to marry him. I just looked him in the eyes and said yes, still bawling. I kissed and hugged him and didn’t want to let go. He is my life. I can’t describe the feeling I felt in that moment. I love him but this was something so much more than love. Maybe I’ve never loved him as much as I did in this moment. He showed me a side of him I’ve never seen. It didn’t feel rehearsed. He was speaking from his heart and I knew it. I didn’t want to let go of him. After a few minutes of holding him I looked back at the ring in the box and he started telling me about the troubles and worries he had about making sure everything was perfect and all of his plans. Yes, the ring is so damn gorgeous but I love it 1000% more because of what it will always remind me of. This moment. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced. All that time spent worrying about it, it. was. perfect. In every definition of the word. Perfect.
    I am beside myself with excitement and every time I look at the ring I well up. He is my soulmate, my life line, my best friend. The love of my life. I want to die with him beside me. I’ve never loved anyone or anything more than him. He completes me. I can’t wait to marry him.


    Posted on: June 26th, 2015 by Randi No Comments

    “No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right. The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit is reversed. It is so ordered.


I’m Randi, short for RandiLynn. I am a 25 year old blogger, web developer, furmama, and gamer from Northeast PA. I live with my husband and 7 animals. I live, eat, and sleep HTML & CSS. I spend my time creating pretty web stuff, blogging, gaming or binge-watching TV shows.

Click to subscribe to email updates.
Login | Register (Why?)

Follow on Bloglovin

What I’m Tweeting


Member Of