Everybody Else is Doing It

So I'm Not Nuts

2011-08-11T12:56:00.003-05:00

I saw the shrink yesterday and told him, "I may be out of my mind, but when I take Mucinex DM, I feel FANTASTIC! It's amazing! Am I nuts?" He explained that no, I wasn't nuts. The (hang on, gotta look it up...) Dextromethorphan (yeah, that was a TOTAL copy & paste there) drives up the levels of Prozac and Strattera in my system and takes priority over the enzymes in my liver. What that means is my liver concentrates on metabolizing (breaking down) the Dextromethorphan (copy & paste again), and leaves my Prozac and Strattera alone in the meantime. More Prozac and Strattera in my systems equals happy happy and focused focused. So lest I have to take cough medicine every day, he increased my Prozac and Strattera. And I must say that today, I feel fan-fucking-TASTIC!

He doubled my Strattera to 240 mg, which surprised me because he said a typical adult dose is between 60-80 mg. He's a very "let's do this tiny bit by tiny bit so you're not taking more than you need" kind of doctor. But hey, I feel fan-fucking-TASTIC, so I DON'T CARE!!

He gave me beaucoup samples and a new drug (Nuvigil) that's supposed to help with alertness and concentration. We're only going to test that one out if I can't get the concentration levels I want with the 240 mg of Strattera. So that's something to think about.

All in all, it was a good visit. I hadn't seen him in 2 years. I talked to him for an hour. It was like catching up with an old friend. I <3 my shrink.

Good Enough

2011-08-02T23:52:00.000-05:00

I've been in a funk for the past week. Lots of stress. Wee, fun. But I had also begun to become optimistic about something I've wanted for a long long time, and decided to go for it. Then, of course, something happened and it left me wondering if I'd be good enough for what I wanted. I wondered if I ever had been before or ever would be.

I know I'm fabulous. Or at least that's what I tell myself. I do it in the hopes hearing it often enough will make me think it's actually true. I'm going to have to start saying it a lot more.

I've started to withdraw again, spend a lot of time alone. Of course, in doing that, I have nobody else telling me how fabulous I am. I have to rely on me, and I lie a lot.

I suppose I need to scoot to the shrink and get my meds adjusted and force myself to go out more often. I'm even back to considering a part-time job again. It'll give me something to do, something to keep me busy. And give me money, too. The only downside is the ones I want to do start out at minimum wage. Nothing builds your self-esteem than someone saying, "A monkey can do this job, so we're only going to pay you as little as we can get away with."

In any case, I'll just keep plugging along.

The Memory of a Goldfish

2011-08-02T20:09:00.002-05:00

They say the memory of a goldfish is 30 seconds. So, if it's in pain, it feels like it's been in pain its entire life. If it's hungry, yadda, yadda, yadda. I think my brain is that retentive.

So, I'm thinking about starting a chart, detailing my day - what I ate, how I felt, what was going on - so I can sit back later and look for patterns. I said the same thing about tracking my poops, and that lasted exactly 3 days. All I had to do was color a box in a spreadsheet. This 'track everything' thing? Doesn't look good from the outset. But it's a nice 30 second thought.

Just a Second

2011-07-25T20:34:00.002-05:00

I found myself looking through my blog the other day. Not quite sure why, but I was struck by the length of the entries. Ever since I got on that time sucker (although I do love it) Facebook, I've kept my writing to 420 characters or less - the maximum you can have in a status update. I refuse to join Twitter, because then I'd be down to 140, or whatever it is.

I'm not sure if I like that sort of fast food writing or not. It's fun to keep up with people, but it's a dangerous habit to slip into. And all that time it's sucked? It could be spent doing more fruitful things.

When I stopped reading books for awhile and kept my reading limited to magazines and the back of cereal boxes, my attention span changed. It took forever to get through a book when I started picking them up again. I could only read a page or two at a time before I had to put it down for a break. I had to cut myself off from the 'junk food' material and learn to enjoy a full course meal all over again.

Now I find myself wanting to write something that will take a bit of space and a bit of wording to do right. I'm not writing the novel I'll spend years and years trying to get published like 90% of other 'writers' online (although I have profound respect for people who can take the time and have the persistence for that). I want to write something personal and not easily explained. I need to get in the habit of drawing out the details so I can say to someone, "This is how I feel. This is what it means to me," and not have to worry about what I've left out or glossed over.

Another issue is the grammar. Good grief, the grammar. I don't know what was so different about the school system I was put through - it was public school in a middle class area - but oh, the things that drive me crazy! "They're" for "their", "your" for "you're" - they're NOT interchangeable. They each have their own meaning and deserve to be used properly. Call me a language snob, I don't care, but I need to get back to reading and writing intelligent things.

I have my own 'daily' version of the English language. I have my own way of saying things that are hick and not proper. But at least I know it when I do it. The other day, I caught myself saying something, and I honestly did not know if it was grammatically correct. It terrified me.

So, in addition to changing my eating habits (more on that on my Weighing In blog), I'm going to try and change my writing habits, as well. I won't give up the junk food communication, but I will enrich my life more.

She's Baaaack...

2010-04-28T11:53:00.002-05:00

I'm starting a new blog, www.nickifranceshome.blogspot.com. It's about the rehab of my childhood home, and will have pictures. Pretty pictures to go along with pretty words!!! OK, actually, the first pictures won't be pretty at all, but they get better.

Maybe That's a Sign I Should Drink More

2010-01-08T12:57:00.002-05:00

Last night, I took a handful of Xanax and drank all the Bacardi Limon in the house, then started in on the vodka. (Did you know if you want vodka to taste like Bacardi Limon, and you squirt some lemon juice and some lime juice in it, it's better than nothing, but not the same AT ALL?).

In any case, I got a little inebriated and thought of this deep, meaningful blog that I wanted to write. Oh, it was going to be good. So good that it would redeem me over the fact I haven't posted in a couple of months.

I also had a deep, meaningful conversation with the man. I remember bits and pieces, but since I woke up upset and he woke up in a good mood, I suspect I don't remember enough of it.

Oh, and did I mention I was still stumbling all over the place and unable to stay in my lane while driving? Yeah. That's a weird feeling when you've stopped plying yourself with mind altering checmicals 8 hours before.

Back to the blog. The last couple of times I've been a little 'affected', I've thought of great blog entries. Sober, I got nothin'. Like now.

Maybe I should break for a Margarita. Yeah. That's important. Margarita. And maybe I'll write down my ideas and expand on them later. After I have another Margarita.

On a side note, I know I've neglected the blog for long enough and I promise to write more. I need to, so I'm more tuned up for when I write that big novel that's going to make me all that money. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Nice to see I still have a sense of humor when sober.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

2009-09-14T12:52:00.003-05:00

So I haven't posted for awhile. I've been busy. I've had writer's block. The type of blog I'm contemplating isn't exactly an easy thing for me to write, but I want to do it anyway. It's me not being nice to me. Not that I'm MEAN to me, just not nice.

I have a new man (cheers) who takes up a lot of my time (double cheers) because I really really love being around him (triple cheers). Basically we've been together every day since our first date. I give up 98% of my 'me' time to be with him, and it's well worth it.

He treats me very well - suffice it to say he treats me better than anyone has ever treated me before (quadruple cheers with some whipped cream and TWO cherries on top). And, as he puts it, I wear the pants in the relationship, but he's got his hands down them. It's quite refreshing and taking some getting used to.

We haven't fought. If something bothers me, I discuss it calmy with him and we come to a compromise both of us can live with. Nothing about me bothers him, though, because he thinks I'm perfect. (hell to the mutha fuckin YEAH!)

My cat has a love/hate relationship with him, which is quite comical to watch. He can't decide if he likes him because he gives good pets or if he hates him because I focus less attention on him and more on the man. So he goes through periods of rubbing on him, sleeping on his chest/next to his head, etc, and trying to beat the shit out of him with his little clawless paws.

In other cat news, I had a dream Calley was shut in the closet, sleeping on my towels, and that's why I hadn't seen her in awhile. I woke up and immediately thought, "I have to let her out." It took me a couple of seconds to realize she wouldn't be there. It's a reminder that I have to send the vet a thank you card, for coming out when she wasn't even his patient. And, nice surprise, I got a thank you card in the mail from a local wildlife sanctuary, thanking me for the 'generous' donation made by the vet on Calley's behalf. It made me tear up and feel all warm inside, that the money I spent putting her down was used for something positive and not just greed. I'm thinking about making him Sebastian's vet, even though his office is a hike.

So there you are. I'm here, alive, happy. I'll try to get that entry together, but I'm not promising a deadline. But it will happen, my lovelies.

Wanting to Keep Her On My Chest

2009-06-24T21:50:00.005-05:00

**this entry is strictly for me. a sort of cathersis and a step in healing. a need to put into words feelings that are bouncing around in my heart. that is all.**

I'm sure everybody by now knows my cats are pretty much the most exciting thing in my life. And I think everyone knows I had to put my oldest cat, Calley, to sleep last week.

I picked Calley out from a litter of kittens at my girlfriend's house the day she was born. The other cats were crawling over each other, mewing, and then there was Calley. She had a look on her face like she had just finished a hard night of partying and all she wanted was peace and quiet and would you other guys just SHUT. UP. She looked like MY cat.

I took Calley home with me the night I moved out of my parents' house. It was the day after Christmas, and I was 19. Subtract that from my current age, and Calley and I were together, um, uh, 9 years? No? OK. 17. She was mine for 17 years.

Fast forward through a good cat's life and how she added to my life WAY more than she aggravated me, no matter what I said.

Fast forward through her kidneys failing and UTIs and losing weight and vain attempts to fatten her up.

I worried when she was sick. When the vet called with her bloodwork results and told me her levels were through the roof and any treatment would be a longshot, I worried. I worried most about what was the best thing for my cat. Not what I wanted, not what the vet wanted, what Calley deserved. I always thought it would be about the money, but it wasn't. I didn't blink an eye at all the tests they ran to find out what was wrong with her. Once they knew, I didn't want to put her through the treatments because they, in and of themselves, would be a big stressor for her. And if it's a longshot for a maybe, why make her miserable for sure?

The vet couldn't tell me how long she'd last with or without treatment. It could be weeks, months, a year or two. We clashed over my choices, but I stuck to my guns and told her I wanted whatever time was left, to be the easiest on Calley.

The vet did tell me that Calley wouldn't be in pain from the kidney failure, but not to let her die naturally from it. Then I worried again. How would I know when it was time? How was I going to be when I was faced with that decision? Everybody kept saying I'd know, I'd know. Yeah. Me and my infinite lack of whatever commonsense most other people have. Me and my utter lack of intuition. Me and my weak emotions. Crap.

Calley had bad days, but she had good days, too. She started letting me do things like kiss her on the head, where she would have convulsed and struggled to get away from them before. She loved to be held and pet and brushed and cuddled since she was a kitten, but God forbid you try to kiss her. You might as well have The Plague.

She started laying on my chest with her FACE facing my face, and not her BUTT, for a change, and I would pet her softer and longer and talk to her. Instead of getting aggravated at her for being in the way of the TV, I just moved the chair and cocked my head to the side.

But she also started doing other things. She stopped sleeping in the bedroom. She spent all of her time in the living room. She started sleeping in a cardboard box that had been sitting on the couch. I looked at the cardboard box I had set up specifically for them to sleep in on the other side of the living room, that neither had gone inside of in the months it had been sitting there and thought of the irony.

And just days after I made the conscious decision to throw that box away, she started sleeping in it.

And sleeping.

And sleeping.

If I was sitting on the recliner, she'd run out of the box on her little legs across the living room and jump on the chair and lay with me, on my chest. When I got up, she'd run her little legs right back to the box.

Then, over the weekend, I noticed she wasn't doing much of that. She, at one point, tried jumping on the chair, but she missed.

She never tried again.

I hoped she was just having a couple of bad days and gave her space, brought food to her, and put the litter box close to her. When she finally came out of the box, she wobbled back and forth. She walked to the kitchen and on the linoleum floor, her legs slowly slid out from under her. I picked her up and it was like she lost half of her already low weight in the past 2 days. I was upset, but there was also a calm over me.

It was time.

And I knew it.

The next morning, I made a call and raced home when they told me the vet wanted to come THEN. I wanted to spend just a little more time with her. I wanted hours and hours, but it felt like minutes before I heard the knock on the door.

The vet was probably one of the most compassionate, patient, and kind people I've ever met. And I needed it. She needed it. She deserved it.

Fast forward through all the unpleasantness, which the vet made as un-unpleasant as one could imagine. He told me she was gone, and without me realizing it, so was he. It was just me and Calley.

I made the decision to have Calley put down at home for several reasons, and I'm so happy I did. I didn't have to put her through the stress of a car ride. I didn't have to put her through the coldness of a examination room. I wanted it to be comfortable for her. I wanted to try to give her in death all the love she gave me in life.

My brother offered to be with me when I had it done, and I had fully planned on taking him up on the offer, thinking I wouldn't be strong enough. But with all the rush, I didn't even think about it. And I'm glad I didn't.

After the vet left, I had her all to myself. I sat in the recliner, with her on my chest and just stroked her fur and told her I loved her. I have no idea how long I sat there, I just remember feeling more peace for her than sadness for me. And I remember it feeling like one of the most intimate moments of my life. As much as I love my brother, he would have ruined that.

When I was done and knew she was really gone, I wrapped her in the shirt I had been wearing that morning and put her in the box I had for her. She always loved to lay on my clothes (don't most cats), and I wanted her to have something of me with her forever. I kept the little piece of fur the vet shaved off from her.

I took Calley to my brother's house, and he buried her in their yard under a tree. It was the ideal solution to the second intial panic I had, of what to do with her when she was gone. She had a real resting place, and she was with family.

I thought it would upset me, that I would cry uncontrollably when I realized it was really over. But when my brother was done, I looked down from the deck and saw where she is buried, and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. She was finally finished with her journey, and I had been with her through the whole thing. Or rather, she had been with me, for surely I gained more from our partnership than she did.

I miss her something fierce, and wonder if I gave her all the love I could have. If she knew how much I loved having her for a pet. If she knew part of the reason I don't want any more cats is because I know they won't be as easy as her. And I caught myself waking up the other night when Sebastian, my younger cat, jumped on me in bed, thinking in my half-wake state it was Calley, finally coming to sleep again on her favorite spot.

But it wasn't.

I don't have some fancy or tidy way to sum this up, other than to say I had one hell of a pet and if I could change any of my time with her, it would be to hold her just a little longer and break out that brush she loved so much a little more often. God, I could brush whole other cats off that girl! So that's it.

Goodbye, Calley. I love you.

Oh, Yeah, Sure I Will

2009-06-16T22:03:00.002-05:00

I've been really stressed about a lot of things lately. I discussed it with my doctor and told him while I do have Xanax, if I use it every time I get stressed, I'll be hooked in a week. So he gave me some other daily medication. He said, "This should help with that. Just be careful and let me know if your mood gets too elevated. We can adjust that."

Let me get this straight: I've been miserable lately and you're telling me I might get really happy taking this stuff, but I need to tell you if that happens so you can stop it.

Oh, yeah, sure I will.

Nice to know he's spending my office visit dough on smoking crack.

OK. So I Suck

2009-06-10T14:41:00.003-05:00

I said I was going to try to keep this more up-to-date, and I haven't. I also said I'm going to start working on my weight loss blog, Weighing In, more, and I haven't done that either. Poop-oop-ee-doop.

What to talk about, what to talk about... Not much. I'm finding myself wishing I had a man for the simple practical reason I want a pantry for my kitchen, and whether I buy one new or buy one used, I can't lift and move it myself. It looks like my option will be: have the guys at Home Depot load the carton into my car. Drive said car back to apartment. Back into parking spot. Make 50,000 trips up and down the steps, taking one piece at a time. Yeeeaaaah. You can see why I'm SO looking forward to this. But I WILL do it. I just have to summon the desire.

I had a doctor's appt today. I have another tomorrow (different doc). I think we're falling into the 'doc appt every week' trap again.

My feet have been swelling for the past couple of months (don't be a mother and give me shit for not going sooner) and I finally paid the bill for all of the visits from LAST year, so I made the appt. Woke up this morning, and guess what. My feet weren't swollen. 2 months they're swollen just about every day during the week (mysteriously, they're not bad on the weekends), and the day I have my appt, they're fucking FINE. It was like all the fluid in my feet crept into my bladder and I peed it out from all the excitement of going to see Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot. Grrr... he told me he believed me, but still...

Ah, and it gets better. Now that I'm back at the office, they're starting to swell.

I fucking hate my body sometimes.

Rock On With Your Bad Self

2009-05-30T23:01:00.002-05:00

I went to the M3 Festival with my girlfriend today. It was all 80's hair bands. All day. It was friggin awesome. Except for the fact I left my phone in the car so I couldn't call my friends and let THEM hear how awesome it was.

I don't know what I enjoyed more - being taken back in time, or seeing how the band's changed, like I have. Most of them couldn't scream like they could back in the day, but that's okay, because I can't not bitch about having to sit on a blanket soaked through from the wet ground courtesy of yesterday's downpour. Especially once the sun goes down and it gets friggin cold.

Yes, I am ashamed to admit I begged out of the headlining act (Twisted Sister) because I was tired from sitting in wet shorts and wet panties (not the good kind, either) for 8 hours. My, how the mighty have fallen. (And, of course, on the way home, I'm listening to the radio station who sponsored the event and hear them go on and on about how Dee Snider is one of the greatest frontmen ever. DAMN YOU MOTHER NATURE!!)

And I've also discovered I'm not as thorough with the spray/no rub sunscreen, either. Yes, I have Retard Burns.

Oh, and I suck with the 'rock on' hands. I never can remember what I'm supposed to do. I put my hands up open palmed, then realize waving at the band like you're in school is not cool. Then I make a fist and think I'm not angry, so THAT'S not right. So I stick out my index finger, and even though the band might be my number one at the moment, it's not what I have in mind. Then I let go of my pinky and thumb and shake that for a while before I remember that's "hanging ten", and we're not at the beach, so duh. By the time I get the 'rock on' hands going, the moment's passed and I look like a major league baseball catcher signaling the pitcher.

All in all, most excellent time. I was quite entertained - both by bands and the usual nutjobs on the lawn. They're always a treat.

But the biggest smile of the evening? When my girlfriend complained about her ears hurting and asked how mine felt. I remembered a shirt I saw earlier in the day that said, "If it's too loud, you're too old", and I told her they were just fine.

What Would You Do Without Me?

2009-05-26T22:58:00.002-05:00

I went to dinner and then shopping with a girlfriend tonight.

When I dropped her off at her apartment, I waited with the headlights on until she got inside. Another girlfriend does the same for me when she drops me off.

Then it dawned on me - what the hell do we do that for? I have to walk from my car to the apartment at least once a day, every day, sometimes quite late into the evening, and I'm fine. Why think disaster only strikes when someone's there to prevent it?

I remember living with the same girlfriend who drops me off. On the nights she would spend away, I would be in a panic, having the house to myself and all sorts of demons and burglars and rapists and just plain mean, evil people having total access to me - no safety net.

Then it hit me - what the hell would she do if something happened and she were home? Surely nothing I couldn't do myself. Sure, she was in the military and no doubt trained in combat, but I was a bad ass, too. Wasn't I?

In any case, I slept a little better that night, knowing that when someone evil comes calling, we'd both be useless. Kind of felt comforting, in a way.

Beast of Burden

2009-03-27T13:42:00.002-05:00

I just did something I knew I shouldn't have done. I knew it, I knew it , I knew it. All it does is get me upset. I know this. I know it, I know it, I know it. And yet I did it anyway.

I told myself it was no big deal, that enough time had passed, I was just curious, and it wouldn't affect me.

Well, just like every other time I've done it, it did. Hairs on the back of my neck stood up, my stomach felt hollow, and I started burping like I do whenever I'm upset. My face was hot, and I was misting up. Not crying, just lubricating my eyeballs. Everything felt like yesterday and it hurt. Seven years of 'getting over it' didn't help. Seven years of ' I'm better off' didn't help. Seven years of 'I'm happy it didn't work out,' and still, when I'm confronted with it, I want to get on my knees and beg him to change his mind, beg him to stay, tell him I'm worth it. Anything he wants me to say, anything he wants me to do, just please stay. Please don't leave me. Please.

I tell myself it's over. I'm better off. I'm happy it didn't work out. I like my life now, even being single. I wasn't really "me" when I was with him. I was some polished up version of what I thought I should be, what I thought he wanted. I'm true to myself now, rusting spots and all. I don't think about what he would and wouldn't have accepted from me. And yet seeing or thinking about certain events in the relationship leave me this mucky mess of emotions. It leaves me like the type of person I want to smack across the face and say, "Buck up! It's over. You're too good for him anyway," when I encounter them acting like that. Fewer times in my life have I ever felt more emotionally stupid than I do when I think about him.

Granted, the time it takes me to get from feeling totally inept as a person to feeling 'normal' becomes less and less each time I sabotage myself like this, but the start of it, that rush of panic and grief, slams into me just as hard as it did any time before. It never ceases to amaze me in my forgetfulness of that fact.

I wish there was some way, ala Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, where you could have memories erased. Just take some comet and a brillo pad and scrub that shit right off your life. That "even though it's over and as bad as it hurts, it was worth it" crap? Yeah, fuck. that. I wish it never happened. It's not worth it. He's not worth it. This bitterness I'm left with has destroyed any trace of something that may once have been sweet. This bitterness sucks.

Even now as I'm coming to the end of this entry, I feel better. I am over it. I am better off. I am happy it didn't work out. And I know this.

I know it, I know it, I know it.

File This Under You're a Dumbass

2009-03-25T18:26:00.000-05:00

I tried a new gum today. I was pleasantly surprised that it's the old fashioned long sticks. I don't know why, I just like them over the little chunks.

Anyway, I started chewing on it and thought, "Man, this has the weirdest texture of any gum I've ever had." Then I took it out of my mouth and looked at it.

I never took it out of the wrapper.

Smooth move, ex lax.

A Whole Relationship in One CD

2009-03-24T20:26:00.005-05:00

I was sitting at work, doing... work (stop the snickering), and (STOP SNICKERING!) a couple of songs came on my jukebox and, just like they do every time I hear them, I thought about one of my most serious relationships, and how that CD managed to apply to the entire 3 year relationship.

I probably made it fit into the relationship because it was (and still is) one of my favorite CDs - the self-titled debut by Third Eye Blind - and I spent a good part of those 3 years listening to it.

The CD came out soon before I moved to Florida to live with Rick. Right before I left, I went to HFStival with the roommates and TEB was playing. They were singing Semi-Charmed Life and Stewie turned to me and sang the line I'm not listening when you say goodbye. I still think about him and the conflict I felt leaving. After all, I was happy where I was. But I left anyway.

Semi-Charmed Kind of Life - "I'm not listening when you say goodbye..."

At first, the relationship was good. I was happy, I wanted to spend all of my time with him, I had that goofy grin whenever I thought about him, and was sure I'd made the right choice.

I Want You - "And I can't get enough..."

After awhile, I realized things weren't the way I thought they were or what I thought they'd be. The relationship changed drastically, was a lot of work, and I felt lied to and misled. I felt like I was wasting my time.

Losing a Whole Year - "And I remember you and me used to spend the whole goddamned day in bed"

Before long, I knew I wanted out. We fought constantly and couldn't agree on anything. I dreaded the weekends when we had two whole days to spend around each other. I made no secret of my unhappiness, and would actually walk around singing this song. Loud, sometimes. Yeah, I didn't contribute to the problems at ALL. I knew it was going to end, just not when or how.

How's It Gonna Be - The whole freaking song. Every word. Even the hammock.

I finally realized I wasn't where I belonged - I was completely out of my element and all I wanted was to go 'home' to Maryland. I was tired of being so gutted and worn down all the time, feeling like I had to give up myself to fit in. I wasn't following any dream - at least one that was my own - or making my own way in life. His mother had wanted us to get married in a country club, and I told him, "My friends will pull up and wonder what the hell I'm doing. They know that's not me." I was scared as shit, moving to live in an apartment by myself for the first time, responsible for all the bills, and no job. But I did it anyway, because I knew it was right. And it was.

Motorcycle Driveby - "I've never been so alone and I've never been so alive"

I don't expect anyone to watch all the videos, but I do recommend giving the album a spin. It's a good one.

'And there's this burning, like there's always been. I've never been so alone, and I've... never been so alive."

Just Fine

2009-03-14T23:08:00.003-05:00

Checking in. Letting you know things are going along. Still trying to make my way and figure things out. Sometimes I get it and other times I need a smack in the head. But, for the most part, I'm good. And when I feel like I'm not, this reminds me I'm Just Fine.

Word of Advice

2009-03-04T20:06:00.003-05:00

Under NO circumstances should you EVER TELL someone what to do with/how to treat/anything else pertaining to their pets. It is NOT your business, NOT your decision, and it is NOT appreciated.

ZOMGIWANTTHISSOBAD

2009-03-03T21:16:00.001-05:00

I Love You to Death

2009-02-28T16:34:00.000-05:00

I consider myself a person who likes animals, although I don't consider myself a person who calls their pets their children. I also have always said I wouldn't put a lot of money in caring for a sick pet. When it's their time, it's their time.

Until now.

My 17 year-old cat, Calley, got sick last week. I showed up at the vet's and was given the estimate on the cost of tests they wanted to do to determine the reason she was sick. It was over $400, but she's 17, she needs to have all those tests to make sure she's in good shape, and it's not like she's sick every other month, so no big deal. We'll find out why she's sick, and maybe other things that need to be nipped in the bud.

I picked her up and the vet complimented her on how great she looked for 17, what a great patient she was, etc, etc, etc. She said blood work and urinalysis would be back the next day, and told me it could be kidney disease, in which case, they'd adminster fluids and put her on a special diet. Or it could be thyroid disease, in which case, I'd have to give her medicine each day. Easy peasy.

Or not.

Another vet called the next day and told me it didn't look good. Calley's in kidney failure. At this point, they could administer IV fluids, but it is a longshot it will make any difference. The cost is $650, which didn't even phase me. I thought it would a lot more expensive than that, so $650 sounded like chump change, which surprised me.

Then the mom in me kicked in and thought about what's bascially my child, regardless of species, and what's right by her. The fluids may or may not work, but the one thing there was no getting around is that my baby is sick and close to the end of her life. Do I want her to spend those days in a cage, in a strange place, doing something that may not even help at all? The trauma of taking her to the vet, and the thought she could die while in treatment, away from home, alone, feeling like I'd abandoned her, just destroys me.

So IV fluids were off the table. She had a urinary tract infection, a kidney infection, so I picked up antibiotics. I talked to the vet about introducing fluids under her skin - something they could show me how to do so that I could treat her myself at home. I made an appointment to take her to learn.

Then I thought about what that entailed. Since I didn't have any help, I'd have to wrap her in a towel and hold her there for the '10 or 15 minutes' it would take. And stick a needle in her. Each treatment. Treatments that are even less likely to work than the IV treatment.

So I called back and cancelled the appointment but said I'd be in anyway to pick up an appetite stimulant. And that I'd be back Monday for a potassium supplement, in hopes of increasing her energy.

I apologized for calling the vets' office so many time with so many questions. I told the woman I just want to do what's best for Calley, and I'm having a hard time figuring that out. I don't want to traumatize her by leaving her at the vet. I don't want to traumatize her by wrapping her in a towel and holding her down on a regular basis. I feel guilty enough forcing her mouth open so I can squirt her medication in really quick.

I emailed my sister-in-law while sobbing, telling her I had no place to bury her once the time came and I didn't want the vets to throw her out in the trash. She said I could bury her in their yard, and that she'd have the company of other pets the family loved.

I called the vet, fighting back tears, voice constantly cracking, asking them if they could come to my apartment to put her down instead of me having to fight getting her in her carrier only to have them end her life on a cold metal table in a place she hated. They said absolutely.

Now the only remaining question is When is the Right Time? People say I will know. People say Calley will let me know. I hope I have the strength to help her leave the world with dignity, to be as good to her at the end as she was to me her entire life.

Choosing Sides

2009-02-18T23:03:00.003-05:00

I just put on the new Guns N Roses album, Chinese Democracy. Yeah, I know it's been out for awhile, and I'm just now listening to it. That probably seems weird to people who know me, know my love of music, and know that I was introduced to GNR very early in the game and am a diehard fan. So why has it taken me so long?

I don't want to choose sides.

I feel once I've listened to the album, I'll be forced to pick Axl's side, or stand on firm ground with Slash, Duff, Steven, and Izzy. I feel like I'm betraying one or the other if I like it. I feel like I'm losing a talented singer to his ego if I don't.

We should face what we all know - it's not Guns N Roses anymore. The foundation cracked when they kicked Steven out. The whole thing crumbled to a massive sea of pebbles when everyone else left. It's now Axl Rose and his band, not GNR. GNR has been over for a long time.

There's so much I could say right now about how I feel about this entire mess, but I like I said, I'm listening to the album now, and being the non-confrontationalist I am, won't say much bad about Axl until I can't hear his voice. I'm trying to listen to it not as GNR, but a totally new band, which it really is. Give it an honest ear.

I'm allowed to do that, right? It IS a democracy, right? (okay, that was so weak, but I'm trying to listen and think at the same time)

Sumpin Ain't Right

2009-02-10T13:39:00.001-05:00

How does a bitch with six kids on welfare pay for another round of in-vitro fertilization? That's what *I* want to know.

If All the Other Bloggers Jumped Off a Cliff...

2009-01-31T22:50:00.003-05:00

Everybody's doing the whole '25 Things About Me'. I was trying to avoid it, but now I'm breaking down and giving in. So, without further adieu (or however you spell it, because I'm not looking it up)...

1. I'm a sucker. As in gullible and sometimes just flat out stupid. If you were a man and told me you couldn't call because you were abducted by a wild pack of wolves, I'd probably believe you. Especially if you were hot.

2. I don't ever feel 'alone', but sometimes think it would be nice to have some kids around. I like the noise and chaos. Probably mostly because I get to leave whenever I want, but I still like it.

3. I like quiet, too. And fortunately, being deaf in the one ear allows me better access to quiet because I just have to roll over on to the good one, and voila! Quiet.

4. The last one counts as two - liking quiet and being hearing impaired.

5. I like being single. I don't define myself by who I'm in a relationship with, and always say the greatest love affair you can have is the one you have with yourself.

6. I hate Valentine's Day. People are frantic to find dates, as if they're losers if they don't, and a lot of women expect their man to come up with all of this fantastically romantic stuff. It's too much pressure. Everyone who puts too much thought into it needs to relax.

7. I have two cats. Sometimes I wish they would die so I wouldn't have to deal with hairballs and cat hair and vomit and litter boxes and all that other crap, but I like having them around.

8. I say I won't get any more pets after these, but I'll probably adopt a couple more. Most likely older cats who have less of a chance to find a home than cute little kittens. But who are preferably declawed, even though that is a totally and completely inhumane thing to do to a cat. (I say this as I'm looking at the shreds of my recliner).

9. I take medication that makes me fart. Most of them aren't stinky, but I do it fairly often.

10. I like farting. But I don't like anyone hearing it.

11. Even though I live alone, most of the time I still say, "excuse me" when I burp. I also don't like burping in front of other people, but I'm getting more lax.

12. I'm not prim and proper like the last two entries would have you believe at ALL.

13. Sometimes I have no filter on my mouth and say really innapropriate things at inappropriate times. (I just spelled that not appropriate word two different ways - one has to be right)

14. My biggest legitimate fear is that I'll go insane. I worry if being smart enough to KNOW I'm not really hearing voices will be enough.

15. I DID hear a voice one time say, "It's time." I knew it was talking about settling down and having kids, but I didn't listen.

16. I like younger guys. At least the younger ones older than 21.

17. I'm grateful younger guys have things for older women. The fact they're considered 'younger' and I'm considered 'older' bothers me sometimes, but I get over it quick. Especially if he's hot.

18. I'm a recovering hypochondriac. I relapse regularly, but I'm trying. Other people make it hard. Like the doctor who said, "I see it came back negative for cancer. That doesn't rule it out 100%, but it's good." I didn't demand they do further testing then, but you can bet your sweet ass I will in a year.

19. I was about to say something totally inappropriate. But I'm working on that filter thing.

20. I spend entirely too much time on my computer. WAAAAY too much time.

21. I doubt I'll ever get my degree. Taking one class a year is no way to do it.

22. I'm horrible with money. Just like mechanics drive cars that break down all the time and cleaning people live in dirty houses. If that doesn't make sense, maybe I should add I do accounting work.

23. I hate my job title. "Accounting Specialist." I can't decide if that's better than or a mockery that I'm not good enough to be "Staff Accountant".

24. When I bought my first new car, I thought my days of driving beaters were over. Now 12 years later, that new car is a beater, and I'm driving it.

25. I'm feeling a tremendous amount of pressure to make this last entry 'worth something', but instead I'll just say I feel tremendous amounts of pressure over the dumbest things.

The End.

Know What I Mean?

2009-01-28T23:58:00.001-05:00

I do my best to try and sympathize with men. I really do. I go out of my way to try and help them in any way possible and recognize they get the short end of the stick when it comes to certain issues.

While I am pro-choice, I think it really, truly, honestly sucks that a man has no say when it’s his baby, too. I think it sucks a man will have to pay through the nose on child support, but only be able to see the kid(s) Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend.

They’re expected to pay for all the dates, be the main provider for the family, and be emotionally strong one when something bad happens.

I also know that men and women speak different languages. They express and understand things differently. Women will take a single statement from a man and pick it apart and analyze it to death to figure out what it really means, when all it means from the man’s point of view is exactly what he said, and nothing more.

Men hear a woman make a statement, and take that at face value, not knowing there’s a whole host of other meaning in what she said, when she said it, and how she said it. They get frustrated when women get upset a man can’t figure it out, leaving men to throw their hands up and declare they don’t understand women.

Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus and all that other crap.

So, when it comes to me and the men I date, I try to be as specific and clear and as straight to the point as I can be. If I like/want most things, I will come right out and say it, no bones about it, no hidden meaning, just straightforward, this is what you should do and how you should do it.

And they almost never do.

I tell them, “More than anything, just keep me in the loop. If we make tentative plans and for some reason you can’t follow through with them, just let me know. Tell me, ‘that’s not going to work for me,’ and that’s it. You don’t even have to give me an explanation. Just tell me so I’m not sitting at home, telling girlfriends I’m waiting to hear from you and can’t do anything.”

What happens? We make tentative plans, and when girlfriends call and say, “Do you want to do something tonight,” I say, “I might be doing something with so and so. I’m waiting to hear from him.” And I wait. And wait and wait and wait, until it’s painfully obvious I’ve spent the evening waiting for nothing.

Not to mention the fact I’ve shaved my legs and probably popped a Xanax to relax a bit so I don’t say or do something stupid. The shaving of the legs isn’t a big deal, but wasting a Xanax is completely and utterly unforgivable. So much so that I’ve decided one wasted Xanax is one too many and the guy’s getting scratched off the list.

When we talk about fooling around, I say, “This is what I like more than anything. Doing this is the gateway to everything else. If you do one thing and nothing else, do this.” And they don’t. They go about other things as if I don’t know my own body well enough to know how it responds to everything. They ignore me. It’s frustrating as hell.

I had an ex who insisted on buying me a watch as a gift – one that he would pick out himself. I wanted a silver watch with gold accents, but told him I wanted an all gold watch. What did I get? A silver watch with gold accents. I got what I wanted by lying about it.

So, now that I know nothing I come right out and state plainly and honestly is going to do any good, I’m going to go back to talking in code. The next time a man asks me what I like/want/need, I’m going to say, “The cat is barking in the mud while the monkey is farting ice cream.”

Maybe then they’ll get it right.

Do You Want Door #1 or Door #2?

2009-01-26T21:07:00.002-05:00

First, need to vent - I SHAVED MY FUCKING LEGS AND TOOK A GODDAMN XANAX!!! AND FOR WHAT?!?!? FOR NOTHING!!! FOR NOTHING!!! I can let the legs slide, but the xanax?!?!? That's unforgivable. You, buddy, have just gotten your name scratched off the list.

OK. Now that we've gotten the man portion of the blog out of the way...

I ordered some stuff from Amazon. 3 seasons of South Park, to be exact. As I ordered them on the 18th or 19th, I wanted to know when the hell they were going to be coming in.

So I went online to check out my account. Enter my username, which is my email, and my uber secret password. I got to 'Where's My Stuff', and there isn't an order sitting there. I go back and check to make sure that, yes, this is my account, which it is because there are other orders on there, but no recent order.

So I get agitated. The last time I placed an order with them, I had to email them, and "oops sorry, it apparently didn't go out. we'll ship it now." It took me over 3 weeks to get the stuff. But I was nice about it, because shit happens.

Well, not only am I not getting this order, they don't have a record of it. Ah, but they damn sure made a charge against my credit card. THAT went through with no problem. So I get really agitated.

Believe it or not, I used to have a very bad temper. I'm talking throw shit across the room, throw it at people, slam doors, curse, yell, shove, punch, kick, rip your hair out temper. Then I grew up and realized that's not the best way to handle things. It might be on the rare occasion, but not normally.

So, in an effort to curb this, I swung the temper the other way and stopped all that fuss. I swung a little too far and don't say stuff a lot of the time when I should. I do that because sometimes once I get going, it's hard to stop. And almost every time I do, I end up looking like an ass.

Anylet'sgetbackonthesubject, This was the second order I've placed with Amazon, believe it or not. I bought stuff from other vendors THROUGH Amazon two other times, and never had an issue. But this was the second time I ordered directly from them, and the second time they fucked up my order. I am NOT happy, and they're going to know about it.

So, I sent an email to Amazon and chewed them out. Made sure they knew just how pissed I was. Told them I would probably never order from them again no matter how good the bargain is. On and on. Bitch, and .... send.

So then I thought, let me try something. I went back to the login screen, typed in my email, the same one I had type in the previous time, and used another uber top secret password. And another account popped up with my name on it. I have two accounts under the same email address with different passwords.

At first I felt bad because I know someone was going to open my first email and it would probably be just what they needed after the rest of a suck day and happy happy joy joy here's some fucking asshole whining and bitching.

So I sent another email. I apologized for the previous email and explained the situation to them. And then I promptly bitched them out for allowing me to have two accounts with nothing different other than the password. I mean, srsly, how fucking RETARDED is that?

So I may or may not order anything else from Amazon and I may or may not ever get my packages in a timely fashion. For that they can burn in hell.

However, I WILL say Newegg.com rocks. I ordered a monitor and I got it the next day - free shipping. I ordered my hard drive late Saturday night, and will have it tomorrow - again, free shipping. Newegg should give Amazon an egg and tell them to suck it.

OK, that was much funnier in my mind.

Must be the xanax.

Some Things You Just Can't Deny

2009-01-25T03:22:00.003-05:00

And one of those things is that even though Michael Jackson is a major pedo, he put out some very danceable music back in the day. And I still like to listen to it. After all, if the guy who cured cancer was a sicko, that doesn't make the cure any less awesome, does it? Only I had to delete PYT (Pretty Young Thing). THAT freaked me out. Like "I was all the way across the room when it came on and when I paid attention to the lyrics, I went screaming across the room to get to my computer so I could delete it" freak out.

I've been doing computer crap. And trying my best to do it alone (with the help of google and some Stewie, of course). It's very slow-going. I do find when I figure something out, I want to tell someone, like I'm a kid who's just gotten their training wheels taken off. Of course, the first thing I did when I got rid of my training wheels was go down a hill and completely wipe out while trying to show off, but it didn't stop me from getting back on the bike. I'm hoping this computer business is the same way. Without the wiping out. At least at this point. I'm at a very delicate stage and wiping out might scare me off.

But I am going to do a total show and tell and show you what I researched and hope is the best deal for the new drive in my computer. Ain't she pretty? I'm nervous, though, because I have no clue what I'm doing. But I'm trying.

Yeah, showing off what I bought was totally the whole purpose of this blog, so now that it's done, I'm off to bed. After I leave you with a little MJ, of course.

Well, crap. They've disabled the goddamn embedding for the video on youtube. Oh well. You know you know the song. You can admit it. Woo!!

What Do You Mean I'm Fine?!?!

2009-01-20T23:14:00.003-05:00

I had doctor visit #426 today. She said there's three questions they ask when a lump decides to hitch a ride on your thyroid - does it affect breathing/swallowing, is it cancerous, and does it affect thyroid function? The answer in my case in all three is no, so they don't want to do anything more than monitor it once a year. My thyroid's almost twice the 'normal' size, and while the lump is big, it's not too big.

OK. Common sense says everything's fine and I should be happy, right? We all know common sense doesn't live here. I can't describe the feeling, other than I feel like I got dressed up for the prom and nobody's asking me to dance. I was so worried they were going to want to cut my throat to get the lump out, that I fought hard to mentally prepare myself for it, and now my neck is safe. But I was ready, goddammit. I was ready!

I did feel relieved I'm done with all the doctor appts and labs and copays and all that other crap, though. I felt like saying, "That's it? We're done? No more appts until next year? For reals?"

Seriously, all those visits were a pain in the neck.

AHAHAAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!

I'm so funny.

Why Not Just Leave It

2009-01-19T13:05:00.002-05:00

Yeaaaaah... the tree's still up. I was going to take it down yesterday, but watched taped episodes of American Justice and Law & Order and Rock of Love Bus and Tool Academy. Hey, you need a balanced diet of TV. I kind of felt a little freakish last night for having the lights on, so I think I'll start working on taking it down tonight. Maybe.

In other news, I'm facing a decision to pick a choice of something, and I don't quite know what to do. Each choice has its advantages and disadvantages, naturally. I'm debating on whether or not to be greedy and pick two. Kind of like making sure I'm not putting all my eggs in one basket. I think doing it will make me feel relaxed yet guilty for being greedy at the same time. I just have to figure out which emotion is going to be stronger.

We're starting a weight loss contest at work, and I could use the money, so we're starting at the gym tonight. I'm looking forward to it.

I have my doc appt tomorrow to determine if they're going to suggest surgery or monitoring for a rather large lump I have (the size of a big marble). Part of me wants them to take it out because I worry that I play with it so much I'm going to turn it cancerous.

I just got copies of the blood test results to take with me, and still have high counts on a couple of things, so of course you know I'm back to thinking I'm dying of some mysterious illness. Even though the levels are just above normal. My oh my, isn't hypochandria fun?

Oh Tannebaum, Oh Tannebaum

2009-01-18T01:19:00.002-05:00

Yes, kiddies, I still have my Christmas tree up. It's more than halfway through January, and I still have my tree up. And I still turn on the lights, too. Do you know why?

When I come home at night, my cat, Sebastian, is sitting next to the tree, waiting for me to turn on the lights. When I do turn on the lights, he gets under the tree and just sits there. Just sitting under the pretty lights is the highlight of his day.

It always touches me and reminds me I should stop and take delight in something so simple every day.

Who the hell cares what the neighbors think.

Take a Couple Xanax and Get Over It

2009-01-07T13:14:00.004-05:00

I've had a health issue that came up two months ago that's taken me in and out of doctors' offices and labs and crap since. All of the hoopla was weighing heavy on my mind.

Finally, I had a test done last week that was supposed to answer everyone's questions. I didn't have a follow-up with the doctor scheduled until the 21st of January, but figured if it was bad news, they'd call before then.

They called this morning. And the doctor himself wanted to talk to me.

Did that just make your heart stop and stomach drop? Because it did mine. But basically, I have nothing to worry about, but I do have to see another doctor (ugh!) to figure out what the next step is. And another doctor who ordered tests called this morning, too, to tell me everything is okay with those.

I'm so, so sick of doctors. Doctors and dentists and blood labs and radiology labs, and the hospital. Luckily, all of my doctors, labs, and the hospital are in the same park, which is 5 minutes from work, so the convenience is awesome. And I can't say I'm complaining that I have to take off an hour here and there from work to go, but still...

I have a giant weight lifted from my shoulders and I am healthy. Really healthy when you factor in the fact I'm a fat chick. So, today, life is good. It would be even better if I could go back to bed and finish the awesome dream I was having this morning.

*I am purposely being ambiguous about the health problems because right now there are others who are experiencing health issues themselves or with someone close to them, and I don't want to act like my issues are, on any level, as serious as theirs or come across as insensitive in regards to them. And I hope they know I wish them health and wellness soon.

Road Rules PSA

2008-12-28T21:24:00.003-05:00

OK. Fresh back from the Florida trip, I find it my duty to make sure everybody knows the rules of driving long distance/on major highways, specifically the fast lane.

#1. If you have a car/SUV full of bratty ass kids who are jumping all over the seats and yelling and aggravating each other, requiring you to turn around and tap the brake while you scream at them, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE. Tell those brats to sit their asses down, buckle their seatbelts and STFU. WHILE YOU ARE IN THE SLOW LANE.

#2. If you notice that SEVERAL vehicles behind you are veering sharply to the right and then jerking the wheel to the left as soon as they have passed your car, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

#3. If you feel the need to tap your brakes every time someone gets in front of you, even if it's 5 miles ahead, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

#4. If you have uncontrollable urges to tap the brakes incessantly for NO FUCKING REASON, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

#5. If you even know what a brake IS, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

#6. If I am in the fast lane and you come flying up the slow lane to the car poking along near me, note if there is less than 1, let alone 2 seconds between me and the car in front of me, and NO CARS for 50 fucking miles BEHIND me, I WILL speed up, and will NOT let you in. On purpose. You are an idiot driver and YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

#7. If you are in front of me and shoot over to the slow lane to try and pass the person who was in front of you, only to find yourself behind some slow ass honky and unable to pass (illegally, by the way), that does not mean I have to let you back in. Please see Rule #6.

Any questions? If so, YOU. DO NOT. BELONG. IN. THE FAST LANE.

Thank you.

Since Kangas Bitched

2008-12-15T23:10:00.005-05:00

Because I totally care about what he says. AHAHAHAAHAHA!!! Yeah, I needed that laugh today.

I've been working on getting Christmas taken care of. Swear every year I'm going to do it right and every year I'm always last minute. Oh well.

I'm thinking about throwing my hat back in the dating ring. Not because I want to, but because I think I need to. I keep thinking about the last two guys I saw, and I really need to move on. Just need another sucker, you know? I'm feeling so happy just thinking about it. Not.

My grandma hinted around about me having kids. That's a very weird feeling. My parents never pushed for anything like that. I even asked them if it would bother them if it never happened, and they just want me to be happy. Imagine that. I think I'm the only one with parents who rock that way. In any case, I told my grandma if I can't do it right, I don't want to do it at all. It just depends what 'right' is.

Other than that, I don't have much. I'm being treated like a 2 year old, and if the shit doesn't give, I'm going to start acting like one. Yeah, I know - vague much? Sorry. Can't go into it other than to say it's wearing me down quick.

I have a new favorite band. Alabama 3. "Country acid house gospel" music. Sounds like a clusterfuck, but they're quite awesome. They did the Sopranos theme. Here's a fave of mine. An especial fave - I like 95% of their other stuff, which is an insanely high percentage. I highly recommend you check them out.

Oh. And Adele. I'm digging on her, too. Very sexy. Almost enough to make me switch sides.

Peace out.

How Did I Miss This!?!?! How Was I Not Informed of This?!??!

2008-11-29T21:03:00.001-05:00

I totally want this. I totally must have this. I'm totally going to get this.

I got the Billy Idol memo, but not THIS one.

If I Eat An Apple Orchard, Will You Stay Away

2008-11-29T11:45:00.002-05:00

Have I told I've been to the doc/lab/dentist 24 times in the past 12 months, with 10 of those trips being to the dentist?

I just chipped a filling.

Yeah, I could wait until my next cleaning to bring it up, but it's in the front. And I'm really vain.

Trip 25/11, here we come.

Day at the Doctor's - Dual Versions

2008-11-26T20:55:00.004-05:00

OK, kids. We're going to have fun today. We're going to re-visit my trip to Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot's office today in both my old hypochondriac mode (which I'm almost finished breaking free from. The thoughts are there, trying to whisper, but I'm shoving them way down in the back), and my new, more realistic, serious approach to my health. First,

Hedda the Hypochondriac

*Sitting in the waiting room, thinking* Oh God, what if I don't hear her call my name? I mean, YEAH, I'm sitting here, steadily staring at the hallway where the assistant will come out of, but what if I get distracted for some reason and she thinks I've left and I haven't and I won't know she looked and left and I'll be sitting here all afternoon?

Oh good. There she is. Say my name.... there it is! Woo hoo! Back to the doctor's office.

What's this? Where is she taking me? These exam rooms are behind offices. What if he doesn't know I'm back here? What if I sit here and sit here and everyone goes home and I get locked in the office?

Oh good. The assistant came back. Relax, relax, we're all good now. She's taking my blood pressure. What was the number? That sounds high. Is that high? Usually she tells me that it's good, but she's not saying anything. I bet it's bad. I bet it's higher than it normally is and she's going to let the doctor break the news to me. Criminey.

Take my temperature. Stick the thermometer in my mouth. Oh God. I hope they don't re-use those plastic things. I don't want someone else's mouth germs in mine. That is just NASTY. *Nurse, "Ooo. 99. You have a fever."* OMG!!! I have a fever!!! OMG, the infection in my lungs HAS turned into pneumonia!!! And the second set of antibiotics aren't working either!! What if it's some sort of staph pnuemonia and nothing will help it because of all the antibiotics I had to take as a kid? What if I DIE!?!?!? Relax, relax.

Oh good. There's the doctor. He's got some paperwork that he's written all over. My lab results. OMG!!! He was right - I have a nodule on my right thyroid!!! OMG, I HAVE CANCER!!! OK, OK, relax. You read on the internet swollen thyroid things aren't a big deal. He'll probably just tell you to take some pills for a bit and you'll come back and everything will be okay.

BIOPSY?!?!?! OMG, I DO HAVE CANCER!!!! Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Relax, relax, listen to what he's saying, ask about the cough, change the subject. OMG, he's not going to check my breathing. He HAS to check my breathing. Didn't he see on my chart that I have a FEVER?!?!?! Fever and coughing and all that crap mean PNEUMONIA!!!! PNEUMONIA KILLS!!! AND IS A PAIN IN THE ASS TO TYPE!!!

OK, he's checking my breathing. One lung. Oh thank God, he's checking the other one, too. OK. He says they're 1000 times better. How does he know that? Does he really remember me, or is he thinking about someone else? What if the infection is so deep in my lungs that it can't be heard anymore?

Check my ears. Check my ears. I can't hear, doc!! I still can't hear!! OMG!!! I had FLUID in my ear the other night and fluid means INFECTION!!! I have an ear infection and I NEED ear drops!!! What do you mean they're not infected? That makes no sense. I had FLUID in my ear. Fluid means INFECTION. Yeah, it was only the one night, but still. And I have fluid behind my ear? I CAN'T have fluid behind my ears - all the fluid is supposed to come out. ZOMG, HAVE I BLOCKED THE PLACE WHERE FLUID COMES OUT BY JAMMING A Q-TIP IN MY EAR?!?!?! OMG!!! I screwed up my ear!!! I screwed up my GOOD ear!!! OMG, I'm going to need surgery. AGAIN. And my specialist wants me to go see theSPECIAL specialist, who's at the University of Maryland, which is a teaching school and they're going to put me out and some kid who's never done any sort of surgery before is going to cut into me and totally screw up my ear permanently and I'll be DEAF!!!!! OMG OMG OMG.

STOP!!! Oh. My. God. Biopsy. Biopsy = needle aspiration. Biopsy on something in my neck = sticking a NEEDLE in my neck. They're going. to stick. a needle. IN. MY. NECK. OMG, I think I'm going to be sick...

********************
That was pretty much all I could think about (medically) for the rest of the visit. Nicki no likey needles in the hand, nipples, or neck. Not allowed.

So now we're on to the way I REALLY think now. The part of my mind that I actually listen to now. The part of my brain that's logical. The part of my brain that is serious about my health.

*sitting in the waiting room, thinking* Oh man, that guy in the chair across from me is HOOOOOT!!! He needs to cut that long ass hair off, though. That's so 1980's. So out. But would I still do him? Hells to the yeah. He's still hot. He can put that crap up in a ponytail.

Oh shit. The assistant. Damn. She just called that hot piece back to the office. Now I have to wait for HIS visit to get done. He better not be some hypochondriac freak who keeps the doctor busy forever.

Lalalalalalalala. Questions to ask... Hmm... I don't remember them. Oh well.

There she is again. My turn to go back. She's taking my blood pressure. Can she put any more freaking pressure in the cuff? Ugh. Where's Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot?

Temperature. I have a fever. Meh. It's not bad. And you'd be hot too, thinking about Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot. How can you work for him and actually get anything done? OMG, I would totally be checking him out all day.

Ooo!!! There he is. Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot. Damn he's hot. Damn. Lickalicious. So handsome. Those eyes. That mouth. Oh who cares what you're saying, just keep talking. The sound of your voice. Delicious. Slight smile. Mmm mmm mmm. I'd like to play doctor with you. I'll be Nurse Naughty.

What's that? There's something wrong with my thyroid? I'm sure it's fine. No biggie. God, you're hot.

You should check my lungs. If you check my lungs, you'll have to touch me. Put your hands on me. Mmm mmm MMM.

OK. I need to go to my ENT about my ears and get a biopsy on my thyroid? OK. Whatever. Jesus, you're hot. I'd never let you get any rest. I would wear. you. out.

Wait. That's it? Goodbye? So long? Happy Holidays? I'd have a good holiday if you were stuffing my turkey, that's for sure. Damn you are HOT.

********************
Life is so much easier when you take a serious approach to your health.

Damn, I think I'm getting sick again. Time to make another appointment.

You Don't Know What You're Missing

2008-11-25T23:08:00.002-05:00

I went for an ultrasound this morning on my neck for my thyroids. This makes about 23 or 24 visits to the doctor/dentist/lab in the past 12 months. I'm thinking about writing down all the visits, but then I think I'd cry. Co-pays, people. Co-pays.

Maybe we should back-track.

I've been really good about my medicines. I take them every twelve hours, with liquids, don't drink alcohol, etc, etc, and I'm still coughing hard enough to wake the neighbors in the middle of the night. I either did or came close to vomiting from coughing so hard in my sleep last night, but I can't really remember because I was half asleep. But if I did, I caught it in a tissue, *SCRATCH!!* Oh that's just gross. Let's stop there. I'm still coughing. And out of cough syrup.

I woke up yet another time last night because I felt something wet trickle out of my ear. Before you get all grossed out, thinking the cat peed in my ear, let me remind you that the interior of both my ears have been renovated and don't work like yours (I'm so special). When something wet trickles out of my ear, it means I have an ear infection. I don't get pressure buildup and pain, oh pain, like you lucky folk do. So this will be the FOURTH visit to the ear specialist this year. BUT, I haven't been able to hear for CRAP out of that ear, so at least now I have an explanation.

I got all bent out of shape over that and went this morning for my ultrasound. Nice way to start the day, huh, agitated about the ear and having to get up early? Oh no. Let's try something else and see if that's better.

I'm laying on the table, and the tech says, "I'm going to squirt a little cool gel on your neck," so I'm expecting *squirt!*. Instead, I get *PPHHHLLLTTTT!!!! PPHHHLLLLTTTT!!!! PHHHLLLLLTTTT!!!* How's about "a little cool gel on my neck" and a good dose of splatter on my FACE?!?!? All I could think was, "It's going to feel like I went to the gynecologist - on my face."

OK. For you guys who don't have the pleasure of an annual well-woman exam, if you want to know what it feels like when it's over, take a tube of K-Y Jelly (not any other kind of lubricant - the jelly in the tube), and squirt the entire thing in and around your buttcrack and around the fellas, and walk around like that all day. And see how you can wipe and wipe and wipe and that shit but it just won't clean up and your sexy parts feel like a bad slip n slide accident waiting to happen.

In any case, I lived through that and went to work.

*****I was working on this earlier, but this afternoon, I got a call from the doctor's office.

"Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot needs you to come in so he can discuss the results of your ultrasound."

"Come in? What was it? Is it okay?"

"I don't know. It just says *burble burble I can't speak proper English burble* and Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot said he wants you to come in. I can see if he'll speak with you on the phone."

"Oh, NO! No, no! If Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot says I need to come in, then I need to come in and see him." See him - :D

I get to see my new favorite eye candy tomorrow!! Insert big cheesy grin here. Plus, I'm thinking I can bring up the cough and the ear infection. I'm sure he'll set me straight. Or at least have me leaving with a smile on my face.

And GODDAMMIT I need to get that freaking breast exam. I see him and my brain goes, "Der der der der".

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick out a sexy outfit. Puuurrrrrooooowwwwlllll.

I Think I'm Growing Up

2008-11-24T12:48:00.002-05:00

Chicken McNuggets are McNasty.

It's What I Do Best

2008-11-23T11:35:00.002-05:00

This whole economy thing has me worried. Really worried. I'm not quite sure how, but I just get the feeling it's going to affect me and my life will get all kinds of fuckered up. So I worry. And worry.

Plus, I got some other news that I can't go into that's making me very nervous, too. Maybe I can tell you later, but not now.

BUT, there's something I've been waiting for and waiting for, that I can't go into, either, that's actually happened that's making me nervous, but in a good way. So I'm worried and nervous.

And still sick. Yep, still sick. It's been a long time since something's kicked my ass this hard. It's hard to tell if these new antibiotics are working or not, or if I should go for the lung x-ray. I can deal with it during the day, but for some reason, nights just kill me. One more reason for me to worry and be nervous. I don't want to get the pneumonia and die. At least not before I get rid of my p0rn. Maybe I should go do that now...

Fudgsicles and Lollipops

2008-11-21T01:16:00.000-05:00

I forgot to post again. Let's just say I'm going to start doing this more often and not put so much pressure on me, whadda ya say? After all, other pressures are what's making this bronchitis so mean and long and more pressure is NOT what I need right now, K?

I do think this round of antibiotics is going to work. I KNOW they're going to work. And the inhaler and getting-rid-of-the-mucus stuff is going to work, too. I don't care what my other doctor said about being sick, ("You can't WILL yourself to be better.") Oh bull HOCKEY, man! I'm not WILLING, I'm DEMANDING, how's that?

Other than that, not much has been going on. I bought 80 pounds of chocolate for Christmas presents. So you're either getting money or chocolate for Christmas. I haven't been able to make stuff, though, so don't check the mailbox just yet.

I've been chomping at the bit to pull my Christmas stuff out, but I've been good. I even DREAMT about doing it last night. Bring it on.

I usually buy a couple boxes of cards before and then after Christmas (for the next year), only to find I have beaucoup boxes already (from the after Christmas of the previous year). I can only find 3 boxes this year, though, so I'm going to go buy some more. I'm sure I'll find 4 or 5 more boxes when I pull out my stuff, but hey, it's not like they go bad.

OK. That's all I got. Back to the grind...

Deep Down & Dirty

2008-11-19T01:52:00.000-05:00

I saw Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot again today. Because I'm so *cough, cough* sick. Srsly, I'm sick.

My bronchial infection is 'deep in my lungs', and my ears are 'jammed up with fluid', so I'm on another round of stronger antibiotics, different crap for the coughing and gunk, and have to get a chest X-Ray if I'm not feeling better in a couple of days. On top of the ultrasound for the thyroid, and then more bloodwork when I'm not sick anymore.

I was sitting around, figuring it out, and realized I've been to dentists and doctors at least 20 times in the past 12 months. But only two or three of those visits have been with Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot. Something's wrong there.

My flex account has long been depleted, and I'm surprised when they still ask my name at the pharmacy. And I'm not even a hypochondriac anymore.

Although I have a stinking suspicion I'll be needing to see my primary doctor (Dr. Hottie McHottie Hot) more often. For routine maintenance, you know?

OK, i totally suck

2008-11-18T19:27:00.002-05:00

I forgot yesterday. But I posted two the day before!! Doesn't that count?!?!? Oh well - I didn't want that stupid thing on my blog anyway. It's dumb and it's ugly and it smells and it has poopy pants. Which probably explains the smell.

In any case, do I even have anything to blog about? Hmm...

I realized not too long ago that I absolutely detest IM'ing with people (men) I don't know that well. I don't know why, but it's just painful to me. It doesn't matter what I think of the person outside of IM'ing, either. People I DO know fairly well? It's awesome. And some people I DON'T know and I can start a friendship over IM and that rocks, but... I dread the words, "Why don't we chat on IM and see if we're compatible?" Why don't we just stab ourselves in the eye with a fork? It feels the same to me.

Anybody who reads this is more than likely in the group I consider friends and would love to IM you every day of the week. I just hate the idea of having to get to know a date-type person online. Give me the phone any day of the week.

In any case, I'm not dating right now, so that saves me from the vast majority of it, but still...

On another note, I go back to the doc's tomorrow. I'm hoping the results of my blood tests will be back by then and he can at least tell me I'm not contagious. So I can, um, not give anybody my germs. That would totally rock.

To Freak Out or Not Freak Out

2008-11-16T22:37:00.002-05:00

I've been taking antibiotics since Thursday night. Since Friday morning, I've been having trouble hearing out of my 'good' ear. I chalked it up to the bronchitis, since the systems are so close.

I just finished reading the paper I got from the pharmacy and reading online that some antibiotics can cause hearing loss.

Permanent hearing loss.

My 'good' ear is called my 'good' ear because the other one is basically no good for hearing things (I can hear noise, but have a hard time deciphering it, if that makes sense). So permanent hearing loss in the 'good' ear would be a bad, bad thing.

I'm still trying to tell myself it's probably got more to do with the bronchitis than the medication and will probably clear up when the bronchitis does, but the hypochondriac in me is FAH-REEKING OUT right now.

Nicki and The Snot Pot

2008-11-16T19:26:00.002-05:00

I can breathe!!! I can breathe!!!

I just finished using my Neti Pot, which has been touted by The Lesley, Jodi, and my ENT (Ear, Nose & Throat Specialist). I figured somebody must know what they're doing, or they just have some weird fetish about pouring water up their nose.

Long story short, I tried using it when I had been sick for a couple of days, and it did give me relief, but only for a couple of hours. And seeing how much gunk I'm hocking and blowing out, I can see why. This round of bronchitis has been particularly cruel, and I'll be happy when it goes Buh-bye!

So after antibiotics, my nose has clear up quite a bit, but not completely - just that residual snot that you just can't get out. Well, my Neti Pot got it, and I can breathe again without the fear I'm going to choke on my snot.

So thanks to everyone who recommended it, and I'm recommending it myself.

Cows Aren't Special?

2008-11-15T13:03:00.000-05:00

You know, I see all the hoopla about people wearing fur, and it makes me wonder why they don't harass people who wear leather.

Aren't cows people too?

Oh Well Don't I Just Suck

2008-11-15T01:49:00.002-05:00

Yes, I forgot to blog before midnight. Dammit. I'm not used to this, people.

Wait a minute!! I'm sick!! Yes!! I'm sick!! I'm allowed to do anything when I'm sick. At least I am if you know what's good for you. Unless you want to hear me bitch and moan and complain.

That said, I have a tickle in my throat which is making me cough which is the worst thing for me right now, because it just HURTS. Everywhere. I had no idea so many parts of your body were affected by coughing. I remember coughing a lot all the other times I've had bronchitis, but I don't remember it hurting so much to do it.

I could say a lot more things that would totally gross you out about my being sick this time that's been different than past times, but I'll spare you.

As long as you forgive me for posting late.

I'll Take Two of You and Make You Breakfast in the Mornin'

2008-11-13T22:45:00.004-05:00

I went to the doctor’s today, and I must say, I really do think I need to get sick more often, because my doctor is HOT. ALL capitals. And not only does he know HIS shit, he knows MINE, too. And he’s all thorough and stuff. I was thisclose to suggesting maybe he give me a breast exam, because, you know, it’s important to check them puppies often, and who better to check it than a trained professional?

A HOT trained professional.

So I whine about how much I’m coughing, how much coughing hurts, all the crap I’m coughing up, and how I’m having trouble sleeping because of the coughing. And he tells me what I already know – I have bronchitis. And an enlarged thyroid. Yeah, the thyroid doesn’t have anything to do with the bronchitis, but he checked it because he’s all thorough and stuff. With his strong, yet soft hands.

Damn. I really should have asked for that exam.

Anylet’sgetbackonthesubject, he gives me an RX for antibiotics and another for cough syrup. The cough syrup, he admits, SHOULD make me sleepy, but in some cases, it revs people up. I said, “Is it that prometh-whatever stuff? THAT stuff keeps me up all night.” He said, “Oh no - that would interact with your medications.” See that? He knows his shit AND mine.

I bet he'd be really good at giving exams.

So I’m either going to get sleep tonight and dream about whatever, or be up, thinking about whatever. I have a feeling either way it’s gonna have something to do with a guy in a white coat.

Yeah, baby.

******EMERGENCY NOTICE - I WROTE AND PUBLISHED A BLOG LAST NIGHT. I KNOW I DID. I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS ABOUT, BUT I KNOW I WROTE ONE. AND IT'S GONE. >:(

This better not disqualify from from poponano. Technical difficulties are beyond my control.

Drama Queen Whining Ahead

2008-11-11T23:06:00.003-05:00

God, just kill me now. I have a hellacious cold. And the worst part? I keep wanting to burp, but I can't. It sounds so simple, but it's killing me. It's like I have a huge air bubble in my chest. And of course the drama queen in me thinks I've gotten pneumonia since this morning and I'm going to die in my sleep. Or choke on phlegm. Ugh, who knows...

I used to have some kickass cough syrup, but threw it out once it got to be, oh, two years past the expiration date. That stuff was awesome. It says a teaspoon is all you need, but OMG, a tablespoon or two, and you don't CARE you're miserable. Yes, I'm all about the prescription drug abuse.

So no good drugs :( I'll give it another couple of days and then I'll go for my bronchitis antibiotics, because that's the next step when I feel like this, and I'll be sure to ask for some cough syrup. With a couple of refills... and some sleeping pills... and some...

Hold 'Em Back, Fellas - They're Killer

2008-11-10T22:39:00.002-05:00

OK. So the month of Laughing Colors lyrics as blog titles? Yeah, that's gonna have to be another month. I don't think there are any lyrics to go with this one. Or at least one clever enough for me to find.

Tonight I did my absolute most favoritest thing of all time. Bra shopping. (Oh - did I say this was gonna be a total chick blog and the fellas might not want to read this? Well, it's a chick blog and the fellas might not want to read this.)

I went out a bunch of months ago and bought some pretty bras in what was pretty much my size, without bothering to try them on. As a result, I had a couple of bras that fit well, fit okay, and Jesus Christ this thing has to be mislabeled.

But, since then, I've gotten a little bigger and a little bigger and a little bigger. It seems like every ounce of weight I gain now goes straight to my tits.

But that's what they make extenders for. But extenders only work for so long when you keep packing the pounds on, and I think it would be a little much to put extenders on the extenders. Although I have considered it. But they've been busting out of the cups, too, and there aren't any extenders for that. So I suffered and put bandaids on the spots where they dug into my skin and dealt with it.

The situation became dire Friday night when I bent down for something and heard a *SNAP!* All I could think was, "Oh God. This is the only bra that fits halfway decently. It can't break. It just can't." And then I thought, "How the HELL, if it's METAL WIRE do they SNAP?!?!?" They've gotten good at making them so they don't come poking out the sides, but breaking? Metal?"

So it became painfully obvious that I was going to have to go bra shopping. And I told myself this time I would try on every bra before I paid for it and took it home, to help avoid the situation I was already in. And I was going to get the right size, no matter what size that size would be. Something that fit me NOW, not 'when I lose 10 pounds'.

Lunchtime was spent online, looking to see who had sales on intimates. I finally decided on a spot and headed there straight from work. And, like it is every time I go there, it was hot as hell.

So I'm standing there, wearing a sweater, and a jacket, in fucking 80 degree temperature, looking for bras I liked in my size, then bras that 'weren't that bad', then bras that 'were kinda ugly, but I'm getting a little desperate here". I picked out about a half dozen and headed to the fitting room.

Oh, and did I tell you I have a cold? So I'm already hot from the cold, and I'm all stopped up and just plain miserable. Wearing a sweater and a jacket in an 80 degree room.

I took off the jacket, the sweater and then my bra. Those puppies were just dying to come out to play. But it's not playtime - we have to get down to business.

I put the first bra on and tried to snap it shut. Yeah, right. It would take 2 or 3 extenders for that one to work. That's a big ol' NO. Next!

OK, barely got that one to snap shut and the band is rolling up and my boobs look like they're oozing out of the cups. I'm calling the breast surgeon for a consultation tomorrow. Next!

Got that one snapped with just a little effort, and I can still breathe, but the cups are... PADDED?!?!? Why do they pad anything bigger than a C cup? Why? I don't understand. Now instead of looking big, I look deformed. Next!

Snapped easy, and my boobs fit nicely in the cups. Very comfortable. I think I'll get this one. What size is it and I'll try some more this size. 4...gulp...6...D...D...oh motherfuck...D. I'm up to a 46DDD. While guys might find that hot, it's not. It's f'ing ridiculous. But I swore I'd buy something that fit, so I got it.

The decision was made a little easier by the fact that ZOMG!!! IT HAS MATCHING PANTIES!!! It was one of the 'kinda ugly, but I'm a little desperate here' pile, and the panties kinda look like granny panties, but IT MATCHES!!! AND IT FITS!!!

I picked up another bra that fits now, and another that was really cute and really cheap for 'when I lose 10 pounds'. Hey, 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

So the new undies are in the wash, and I'll be wearing them tomorrow.

**OK, the writing on this blog was sloppy, but it's getting close to midnight, and I got a schedule to keep. I was going to talk about how I was sweating like a pig and how fuzz from my new black sweater was sticking to the sweat on my neck and making it look like i haven't taken a shower in 3 weeks, although the stench from the sweat could have done that on its own, but you'll just have to deal with it. I gotta do the nanapopoblo, people.

We Paid A Lot, For What We Got, Just to Look Bright and Shiny, In the Eyes of God

2008-11-09T19:00:00.001-05:00

When I was 15, we got new neighbors, Donny and Darrell. They were 22, and, much to my parents' chagrin, very intriguing for me, especially Darrell.

Darrell was tall, with a head full of blond curls lightened by the same sun that kissed and darkened his skin a creamy caramel. He had blue eyes that danced, and a grin to end all grins.

He had the kind of smile that let you know what he wanted, and let you know he knew he would get it, eventually, one way or another. He had the kind of shyster charm women love and men hate, because it comes so easily to those who have it.

I remember quite often I'd be out working in the yard, only to look up and find Darrell watching, unabashedly, from his window sill. He'd have the window up, and he'd have his head resting on top of his folded arms, just looking, watching, with that big grin on his face.

A couple of times, I found him looking from my window sill. I'd be up late in the summer, washing dishes. I hated doing it, so I waited until as late as possible, hoping magically they'd all go away. When I finally got around to the nasty task, Darrell would sometimes ease the agony o my chore. He'd stand on the ledge below the kitchen window, and talk to me. Sometimes, he'd ask me to go to the dining room, because the window wasn't as high up from the ledge, and I could open the screen and kiss him.

Another time, I decided I wanted more of his attention, so I started doing quite a bit of work in the yard. I mosied out whenever I could, and eventually, he joined me. He helped me edge the sidewalks, pull weeds, mow the lawn, and kept me entertained. He kept my stomach full of butterflies, and made my heart skip beats when he'd flash that smile.

While he was working on the yard, I had several occasions to see the scars on his lower back, from one of several accidents he'd had that had landed him in Shock Trauma. He brushed them off as if they were a fact of life, probably because they were, given the type of life he chose to lead.

He drank and did drugs, probably a lot more than I let myself believe. After all, he was a god in my world, and gods were someone to look up to, someone close to perfection. But it was a part of him that I chose to ignore. That smile was blinding to just about anything.

Darrell got married and moved away when I was 17; to another 17 year-old girl who was pregnant with his baby. I saw him occassionally after that, but the times felt few and far between.

I lost touch with Darrell, and a lot of my other friends, but know he went on to get into more trouble and have three more kids. I saw him soon after I moved back from Florida, across the street from my brother's house when I was picking up my neices. He still had the same curly blond hair, but his eyes were tired, and his grin worn down. I don't know if it was a hard day for him, or if that was his life.

Darrell passed away a couple of days before Christmas in 2006. The day I left to go visit my parents in Florida. I didn't find out until a week or so after I got back, so I missed his funeral, and my chance to formally pay my respects and say goodbye one last time. But I know if he could see inside my heart, he'd know what I'm thinking and feeling. I hang on to that. That he knows I think about him. And miss him something fierce.

Roll Into the Light

2008-11-08T23:25:00.002-05:00

I went out with the guys last night to see LC. I know I was feeling blah about it, but I knew I would enjoy seeing them again, and I did. The band makes me think of nothing but good times and to see the way my old roommates interact with each other just does my heart good. I know some great guys. Truly, honestly, Good Guys. Without guys like them, my life would be a much more bitter pill.

And OMG, the 2008 version of The War on Drugs? The whole night was worth it for just that alone.

And I kept thinking, "OMG, that lyric would make a perfect blog title," but found myself saying that to just about every line of every song. So, in honor, this blahponahpo month will be using all lines from Laughing Colors lyrics. Because they rock. As do the guys I went with.

I love you guys. Thanks for getting me out of the house and making me enjoy life a little more.

Ew. Oh! Ahhhh...

2008-11-07T00:00:00.003-05:00

I got Chinese for lunch today. Pepper steak with mushrooms instead of peppers. Yeah, I order pepper steak and tell them to leave out the one thing that makes it what it is. I'm that person. But today it was nasty. Nasty, nasty, nasty. Then I remembered something - I had a piece of cheesecake from the Amish market in the fridge I bought yesterday. Yummy, yummy, yummy. Lunch was saved, and all is good.

I'm going to a concert with friends tonight. Friends that I love and a band that totally rocks. But I'm sitting here thinking it would be nice to sit at home and do nothing. Like I do every other night, it seems. I mean, I DO stuff, but I like sitting and doing nothing and I'm thinking it's less about liking it and more of an aversion to people. After all, I love these friends. I love this band. I've been looking forward to it. Now, the moment's come and I just feel so blah about it.

*THE REMAINING PORTION OF THIS BLOG HAS BEEN DELETED BECAUSE I HAVE A BIG MOUTH AND GIVE OUT TOO MUCH PERSONAL INFO*

Picture Perfect. Or maybe not.

2008-11-06T19:52:00.003-05:00

I got a new monitor the other day. And hooked it up. But only because I sold the old one and I wanted the cash. Can't be proactive without a reason, you know?

In any case, I went from a 15" to a 19". Bigger. By 4". You would think bigger monitor = bigger pictures, easier viewing.

Um, no.

I set the thingamabob to the recommended setting and holy CRAP, I couldn't see anything. I mean, I could see there was a lot more STUFF on the screen, but I needed a friggin magnifying glass to read anything.

So I reset the thingamabob so the pictures were bigger, but then the lettering got all wavy. I talked about it with the IT guy at work, and he said I have to adjust the hoochie-jigger, too.

He said, "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

I said, "Oh yeah, yeah. I gotcha. I'll look at it when I get home."

OK, so I don't know what the hoochie-jigger is. I THOUGHT I would remember, but that shit was ancient history in my brain as soon as I turned my back to him.

I got home, and I played with the doohickey. I was hoping playing around would jog my memory about the hoochie-jigger, but no luck. I would play with it more, but I have more important things to do. I just got Season 2 of Dexter from the whatchamacallit, and I want to watch it on the thingadoober.

Armed and Oh Look! It Matches My Purse!

2008-11-05T00:05:00.001-05:00

MY MOTHER CANNOT READ THIS. MOM, GO AWAY. YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS COMING IN THE FOLLOWING BLOG. YOU'LL BE HAPPIER IF YOU DON'T READ IT. Thank you. And I love you. Bunches.

Thursday, there was a carjacking in the parking lot next to where I work. I work in the ghetto, so it's not particularly alarming to hear that happened. After all, the parking lot will be littered with broken glass from the window of the latest poor schmuck to have their car broken into every couple of months and nighttime gunshots are just shrugged off (not by me, though. I freak out.). My boss said it was probably a repeat offender, blah, blah, blah, while I said it was probably drug related. Why else would you need to be in an empty parking lot across the street from the ghetto?

And speaking of drugs, it's not unusual for me to leave at night and witness a drug sale on the street. As a result, it's not unusual for me to walk back inside work and ask to be watched to my car or hang out for a bit. Even if there's someone just standing outside, or walking outside, or whatever, I'm not going to be the only other person out there with them. Call me whatever you want for that. I don't care.

Then, Friday night I got home close to 11, and noticed a group of guys hanging out front and running in and out of the apartment building across from mine. I had two big bags of clothes and a new monitor to carry up my stairs, so I wasn't very mobile and worried I was going to get robbed. But I live in a good neighborhood, so I told myself to get over it. Yeah, I'm a scaredy cat white girl. Call me whatever you want for that. I don't care.

Sunday night my brother showed me an article in the paper. Apparently the guys running in and out of the apartment building were in the midst of a home invasion. And I pulled up in the middle of it. Lalalalala, clueless. Nice.

The police don't think it was random, so my brother said it was probably drug related, so I feel a little better. That still didn't stop me from hitting the gun store on the way home.

The walls were covered with shotguns and rifles, and highly deadly I'm-pretty-sure-they're-supposed-to-be-illegal guns. I walked slowly, looking at everything, when finally a guy behind the counter said, "Are you looking for the pepper spray, miss?" I said, "Yeah. How'd you know?" He said, "You don't look like a gun person." Who? Me? Wide-eyed holy-fucking-shit white girl? Noooooo.

So I have my pepper spray. And I've been practicing how to whip it up to my hand, slide the safety and spray in fractions of a second. And best of all, the sprays come in colors. So I got one to match my purse.

Hey, just because you want to protect yourself doesn't mean you have to look poorly accesorized.

Late to the Party

2008-11-04T00:59:00.000-05:00

I wanted to do the whole 'write a blog every day for a month' thing, but The Lesley informs me it's already started. Well, butter my biscuit and call me... (hang on while I look that up) Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I'm going to do it anyway. I'll just have to blog into December, and not put the logo picture thingy on my blog. But I'm going to do it.

I have a Public Service Announcement to make. You know that delicious looking Louisiana Chicken Bowl that Popeye's is advertising? It's more like a Stink Funky Nasty Bowl in real life. NOT HAPPY.

OK. That's all I have to say right now. I have to save for the rest of the month and 4 days into December.

I'm Bad, But I'm Not THAT Bad

2008-10-18T19:28:00.003-05:00

I caught myself the other night, sorting my cats' wet food I had just purchased. I was arranging it so my cats would have something different every day, instead of chicken for four days, salmon for four days, etc. Then I realized not only was I sorting the food, I was also making sure one day was a land animal, the next a seafood. I stopped and said, "OMG, I think I might be a Cat Lady."

On another point, I've been babysitting my brother's dog, Luke. As I like to do when I babysit my other brother's dog, Roxy, I took Luke to the park for a walk on the trails. I was coming up on a woman walking two dogs and pushing a stroller. I thought to myself, "Wow. She's brave. Two dogs AND a kid." I pulled Luke close so he wouldn't run over and make a big scene.

As the woman walked by, I looked in the stroller and realized it wasn't a baby, it was another one of those goddamn motherfucking whythehelldoyoubothertotakethefuckersforaWALK pet strollers. I looked up and, couldn't help it, gave the woman a nasty look.

YOU'RE IN THE GODDAMN PARK! YOU'RE TAKING THE GODDAMN DOGS FOR A WALK. NOT A PUSH. JESUS CHRIST DO YOU THINK MUFFY OR BIFFY ARE GOING TO GET TIRED?!?!? CHEESE AND RICE NO WONDER THEY'RE FAT!!!

This is the third time I've come to face pet strollers. And this is the third time I've been disgusted. And the third time I've bitched about it on this blog. I will admit, there may be a useful purpose for some pets. I can't imagine what it is, but I'll concede to there being a useful purpose. But GODDAMN IT, SHE WAS AT THE PARK!!!!! You WALK your dogs at the park!!!!

Then I thought about sorting my cats' food. Yeah, I admit that might be a little too much, but I'll be goddamned if you think I'm going to 'walk' them in a stroller.

Freaking freaks.

You Spin Me Right 'Round, Baby, Right 'Round

2008-10-16T12:02:00.002-05:00

I spent yesterday morning, in the hospital, sure I was dying from a brain toomah. I'm not - I have Positional Vertigo. I just have to sit still until some fluid in my ear goes away. And I'm off work for the rest of the week. Ha, ha, you SUCKAHS who have to work!!

But my car's in the shop. In the specialty shop that only deals with Acuras, because I'm having an issue that seems to be a little difficult to diagnose. I'm not happy that it's in the Specialty Shop (read: Expensive), but if they can fix it permanently, it'll be worth it. I talked with Mr. Mechanic Guy, and it could be as cheap as $100, or $1100. They don't know what's causing the problem, either, so we're going with the $100 option for now.

And he made a funny when he told me it would cost either $175 or $300+ to fix my antenna. I can't tell you the exact higher number, because when I heard 'three hundred', my brain started laughing hysterically at the mere suggestion I might even pay that much. I said, "Can I listen to CDs without the antenna?" He said yes, so I said yeah, we'll not be doing that at this time.

ANNNND... I'm so excited - they fixed my rear wiper. Those of you who have slanty rear windows should think about not being able to use the rear wiper, because it SUCKS ASS when you can't. Like, REALLY BAD. You can't see SHIT when it's raining or snowing or foggy or just dewy in the morning. When he said all they had to do was tighten a bolt, I said, "AWESOME!" and, "OK," when he told me I needed a $20 wiper blade. Even though I can get them for $7 or $8 myself. And change them myself. Because I know how to do that. At least someone showed me how so I could do it myself next time instead of doing the Distressed Maiden Act for some chump.

Now they're looking at my window, which is starting to get picky about going up. I remember the dealer telling me a long time ago it's $300, but I'm hoping hell's gotten a little colder and it'll be about $150. After all, it might be a Specialty Shop, but it's not The Dealer.

Tack all that on to the airbag chip thingy that needs to be replaced (meaning I have no functioning airbags now) at the Bargain Basement Price of $900, and we're good to go with the car.

Oh, and don't forget the faulty sunroof that would cost $1600 to fix.

Yeah.

Anybody got any good suggestions on a part-time job?

And I'm thinking this.

100 Reasons Being Fat Sucks 1-20

2008-10-13T19:21:00.001-05:00

In no particular order:

#1 - Monster Boobs and the Fight for Freedom - Yeah, you'd think you'd like big boobs and all, but when you wear a button front shirt, your boobs in your shirt are like pre-pubescent girls at a New Kids concert in the 80's fighting to get through security. It's a blast when a button pops off at your nephew's t-ball game and you're trying in vain to hold the shirt together, knowing the whole time the parents of the other kids are thinking, "Hussy."

#2 - Stair-Stepping and Popping Knees - For your knees, going down stairs is like going down on a drunk frat boy - you think it's never going to end and you're wondering if it's even worth it.

#3 - Boy Scouts and Thunder Thighs - Your thighs rub together everywhere you walk. You try to pick 'quiet' fabrics, but even those have their issues. I'm waiting for the day I'm wearing cords and I start a fire right under my crotch.

#4 - Match and Match Alike - Fat girls aren't allowed to have matching bra and panty sets. Sometimes you can fake something, but even then it's almost impossible to match it to an outfit. It seriously compromises your ability to obtain some sexy times since we all know guys are all worried about whether or not you match.

#5 - Cankles - You say they're a side effect of medication, but they're really pockets of fat that slid down from your asscheeks.

#6 - Exes and Shoe Racks - You're shopping, then notice an ex over in the men's department. You quickly hide behind the shoe racks and spy on him, huddled over and peeking through the shelves until he leaves, because you can't let him see you fat.

#7 - Don't Take Me Out to the Ballgame - Even though nobody's scoring and everybody's striking out, sitting on the edge of the seat just means you're excited about the game - not that your fat ass won't fit in it. Which is doesn't.

#8 - Take My Breath Away - Think going down stairs is bad? Try going up a flight. Your lungs won't be able to thank you. They won't be able to do anything.

#9 - Intervention at Checkstand 10 - You always feel an amazing amount of guilt when buying ice cream. Especially when it's the only thing you're buying. You feel like all eyes are on you ready to announce, "Hussy at checkstand 10 will be having a threesome with Ben & Jerry later this evening."

#10 - Giving Them the Slip - Back to the boobs. It's all about the boobs. And the bras. The bras whose straps won't stay on your shoulders and slide down on your arms like the vixen in a romance novels. Not sexy at work. More like irritating as hell.

#11 - Scarlet Fever - Steps aren't so bad when compared to a long walk or half hearted run. Your face isn't so used to all of the physical exertion and turns beet red. With little white lines running through it. Think it sounds weird? It looks even worse. And it stays that way. For a long time.

#12 - Sweatin' to the Fatties - Running, walking, shaving your legs in the shower, all causes for your sweat glands to send forth a gush of smelly liquid that renders the shower you just took useless. Basically you reek of B.O., but at least your legs are clean-shaven.

#13 - Nicki Got a Big Ol' Butt, Oh Yeah - Not just a big butt, but a butt grossly out of proportion with the rest of your body, like you're standing in front of a funhouse mirror. *BLOOP!*

#14 - Ooo Baby Baby - It's not as big as your butt, your stomach is still quite noticeable. You look like you're seven or eight months pregnant, so you try to find shirts that are long and flare out. You know, like maternity tops. Which only makes the whole pregnancy thing worse.

#15 - Paging Dr. Fixit - Surgery. You want to have breast reduction surgery, but can't justify getting that done before the ear surgery you need. But you know that with obesity comes higher risks with anethesia, so you put it off. But it's not so bad - not being able to hear out of one ear makes it easier to ignore people.

#16 - Jiggle Jiggle Jello Plop! - There are things that are supposed to move during sex, and things that aren't. When the things that aren't start bouncing around like they're on a trampoline, it kind of takes away from the moment. Especially when your mind is screaming, "OH MY GOD, WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING TO MAKE THAT MOVE LIKE THAT, STOP!!! OH MY GOD!!! STOP!!!"

#17 - Put Your Best Foot Forward - When you gain weight, you gain it everywhere. Including your feet. So those awesome suede shoes you love and wait all year to wear have to stay in the closet, looking oh so pretty, and oh so lonely. And those knee-length boots that make your mouth water? Forget it. Thanks to calves as big as, well, baby cows, and your cankles, THAT ain't gonna happen.

#18 - Well Ain't That the Sh*t - There are pills out there designed to keep your body from absorbing fat, and they work. The fat goes right through your system and out your tookas. Taking everything it can with it. At inopportune times. Without notice. When my doctor asked once if I wanted prescription diet pills, I said, "Thanks, but the idea of pooping my pants doesn't appeal to me." He shrugged as if to say, "You're the one missing out." Yeah, missing my undies because they don't just have skidmarks, they have landslides. Pass!

#19 - You CAN Take It With You - Another little warning about chairs. You know you can't fit in the stadium chairs, but know even if you can fit IN a chair with arms, doesn't mean you can get OUT of it. So when you stand up, in front of a room full of people at a candle party, you'll find you have a chair attached to your giant ass. Sure, you can sit down quickly and pray nobody noticed, but you can tell by the looks of horror, by the looks that scream, "Oh thank GOD that's not me," that everyone did.

#20 - We'll Cross That Bridge... Or Maybe Not - You can't cross your legs. You can TRY, but you won't make it past your knee. You can force it over the other leg, but it'll go sliding off like butter on a hot potato. So there's no sitting demurely anymore for you. You can cross your cankles, though. There's always your cankles.

So there we go. 20 reasons. Stayed tuned for more. Ha! Like your fat ass is getting off the couch! HAHAHAHA!! That's funny.

A Crazy Deaf Slut with Bad Teeth

2008-10-07T00:04:00.000-05:00

I had a visit with the doc today. For once I didn't leave wanting to pound him on the head. I got a lot of questions I had about stuff answered. Specifically stuff I learned while researching the meds I take. I've only been taking them for several years and just got around to looking them up this past weekend. That's how in denial I am about having to take them. I did learn one lessens the effectiveness of birth control, another can't be taken with my iron supplement, and another causes liver and kidney and/or renal failure. Woo hoo!!! In short, after reading all of that, I got offline and went back into my "If I don't pay attention to it, it's not real" shell. It's nice and warm and cozy in there.

We talked a little bit, and I told him I had done some thinking over the weekend. I thought about all the happy times in my life when I had tons of energy and crammed as much life into a day that I could manage to squish in and realized something interesting. During all of those times, I was getting regular exercise. It didn't matter what size I was - I was happy. So I realized I really do need to start hitting the gym, if for nothing other than the endorphin high.

He brought up diet and I immediately cut him off. I said, "I'm not doing the 'diet' thing. I'm going to eat what I want, and that's that. And honestly, I really don't eat that much to begin with." Honestly.

I have to get blood tests done to make sure my body's not skyrocketing on the cholesteral and blood sugar scales, but I think I'll be okay. At least I am every other time they've tested me. So I'm not worried.

The labs will be the third medical appt I've had in as many days. I've been to the gyn three times this year for an IUD, literally 10 times to the dentist, give or take a visit, a couple for the ear doc, and on and on. The girl I work with said I'm chock full of ailments. I told her that's the breaks for someone like me - a crazy deaf slut with bad teeth.

You know you wouldn't want me any other way.

It's About Time

2008-10-04T13:24:00.002-05:00

OJ Simpson was found guilty of all 12 charges he was accused of on Friday, 13 years to the day he was acquitted of killing his former wife and Ron Goldman. He could be sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison. Oh, the irony of it all.

Do I care the probability of prejudice jurors had against his prior judgment for something he so obviously did and got away with was incredibly high? Do I care that prejudice probably tainted their image of him from the start and influenced their decision to find him responsible for everything he was accused this time?

Fuck. No.

I hope that fucker rots in jail. I hope other prisoners make his life as completely miserable as it could possibly be.

It's about time.

Whole Lotta Nothin' Goin' On

2008-09-30T23:34:00.001-05:00

I keep thinking I should post a blog, but there's not really a whole lot to say. I'm quite relaxed now that I've given up dating (with one exception. and that's not really considered dating, anyway), but there aren't any, "OMG I went out with the biggest freak!" stories. But to satisfy that need, I've been reading the casual encounters on craigslist. My girlfriend said, "There are some messed up people in this world," and I said, "Yeah, and they all post on craigslist." The ads are quite entertaining. I think it all has something to do with the guy who showed up and wasn't the guy in the profile pic. While I was actually happier with the real guy, now I don't trust anyone on any of the dating sites. Another reason I stopped for awhile.

I spent the day Sunday watching season 4 of The Office, and then the Season 5 premiere last night. I'm quite hooked on it now. It's quite funny. Although I still can't stand Steve Carrell.

My car is a piece of doodie poop. I went to get lunch the other day and tried to roll up my window, but nothing happened. I started freaking, because I work in the ghetto and leaving the window down is just not advisable if you want to keep your radio and GPS. Luckily, when I got back in the car and started it, the window went up. And it's been up ever since.

Tack the dying window motor on to the dying antenna motor, tacked to the dead rear windshield wiper, tacked to the nobody knowing why my clutch just gives out, tacked to it having no transmission fluid while being driven, tacked to the bubbling tint that needs to come off (do you know it's just as expensive to have taken off professionally as it is to put it on? Do you have any IDEA how messy it is to take off yourself?), tacked to the sunroof that doesn't shut right and can't be used, tacked to the airbags that don't work, tacked to this, tacked to that... I think I'm going to suck it up and take it to the dealer and have them check it inside and out. Not knowing if you're going to get to where you need to go every time you get in the car sucks ass. But, on a positive note, my auto club has more than paid for itself in tows.

Other than that, I got nada. zero. zilch. empty. blank.

Maybe tonight I'll go streaking through the apartment complex parking lot. Maybe THAT will stir up some creativity.

My Head Hangs in Shame - Maybe

2008-09-17T08:21:00.002-05:00

I, have a willpower with the strength of a wet noodle.

Yes, I caved already.

But it was so worth it. :D

Sing It, Sisters

2008-09-09T18:03:00.002-05:00

Well, that's over. The last date with the last straggler. The last horrible date with the last hopeful straggler. I said if this one didn't work out, that was the end of my dating life for awhile. And it is.

Only my girlfriends are going to get the nitty gritty, because, well, that's what girlfriends DO and this being a public forum it's just not right to air that kind of crap. Just know that it's been a looooong time since I've had a date THAT bad.

And it wasn't me. I did everything I was supposed to do. I was on top of my game. I!! ROCKED!! But IT!! SUCKED!!

So, anyway, it's Nicki-time. I'm going to go get some strings for the guitar and look at buying a sax on a payment plan. Then I'm going to concentrate on me and what I want to do. All the bullshit has me tapping out on the mat.

So I won't have any man-hating blogs for awhile (although I hope I didn't have too many before, because I really don't hate men, I just hate my choices), and I'm DEFINITELY changing the name back to Freak Magnet.

Oh Yeah? Maybe I'LL Stop!!!

2008-09-07T15:48:00.002-05:00

After lots of problems with the computer, I think I have it straightened out (minus a few lingering problems I'm still having to deal with), so I figured it was time to get back to normal. And getting back to normal means reading everybody's blogs. Only I'm finding it a trend that people are quitting their blogs. And it's irritating, because they were blogs I enjoy.

so, for the rest of you even THINKING about quitting your blog - DON'T DO IT. You're costing me my sanity that's only preserved by entertainment.

Other than that, life is boring. I've been busy making chocolates to send to him tomorrow for his birthday. The weirdest thing? As much as he means to me, and as many as I've seen since I've known him, I still get confused about which day it falls on - the 6th or the 9th. And I think I ask him every year. And I still forget.

In any case, the chocolates? Even as anal as I am about my own stuff, OMG are they good.

Bringin' the Bore for Snooze

2008-08-28T20:58:00.002-05:00

Snooze says the boring stuff is good, too, so here you go.

Tonight, I had dinner out with a girlfriend. Steamed shrimp. A pound. Seasoned just right.

First ordered a White Russian, but it had too much vodka in it, and for some reason I'm starting to shy away from the vodka and favor the rum.

After I finished the shrimp, I wanted something really sweet, so I ordered a Toasted Almond. It hit the spot.

Watched a bit of the football game.

Hugged a couple of drunk old men.

Had a good time with my girlfriend.

Got home and wanted sweet tea, but realized I forgot to stop and get sugar.

Thought about going up the street for some, then remembered I had already taken off my bra. And we all know once the bra comes off, I'm in for the night.

Drank the rest of the coke I keep in the fridge for another girlfriend.

Farted.

Wrote a blog.

Woo.

You Were Always on My Mind

2008-08-28T11:58:00.002-05:00

I listened to the Willie Nelson version of that song about 100 times this morning, thinking about him, but that's not the purpose of this entry. I actually wanted to let YOU know YOU were always on my mind during my blogging break.

I don't really have a lot to say. I am working on an entry that is doing me both good and bad. Some (most) of you will think it's too negative while others will take it for the tongue-in-cheek-edness that it's meant to be. I mean, it'll be the truth, but portrayed bluntly and brutally. It's a big one, so don't expect it, like, tomorrow. It's taking me some time to think it up and think it through.

Vague enough?

I've been piddling around the apartment, getting some long-standing projects done. I went to get my 'real' desk out of storage, but when my gf and her husband pulled the top out, it was way too bowed to be of any use anymore. It broke my heart to throw it away.

BUT, I got a desk from work - for free - that's doing a swell job. Only it weighs 100 pounds, easy. Big shout-out to my favorite bro and a guy he works with for getting it up the steps and into my apartment. Now I just have to move everything around to see if I can get it all to fit so I don't have to get rid of anything.

See, that's how exciting my life's been. Totally White Bread. I've been doing a lot, but it's a lot of boring stuff. But it's amazing how much better I feel getting it done.

So expect a blog coming soon that won't be so vanilla. Ta-ta.

The Name Game, Round Deux

2008-08-26T19:00:00.002-05:00

I think I'm going to change my screenname. I already changed it on my myspace page, but I think a more mature name appropriate to my fascinating lifestyle may be called for. To every season, turn, turn, and all that other bullshit. The new name?

White Bread.

Yep, that's me in all of my fascinating fabulousness. Think it fits?

Reunited and It Feels So Good

2008-08-18T21:42:00.002-05:00

I have my music back. OMG, I have my music back.

Long story short, my old external drive that housed ALL of my music, took a dump. So, for the last 8 or 9 months, if I've wanted to listen to something specifically, I had to pull it from a backup disc.

But now I have a new external drive.

And now I have all of my music sitting in one place, and available at the click of a mouse.

Christmas just came early.

Wednesdays With Nicki

2008-08-13T21:53:00.003-05:00

You know how that guy had Tuesdays with Morrie? We should have Wednesdays with Nicki. I have no idea what the hell I'd talk about, but it would be a firm date - something for you to look forward to and something to make me think. So we'll do this. Like every 20 Wednesdays or so.

Tonight we can talk about things I learned today:

When text messaging a friend about another friend and how rude she is, make sure you're sending it to the right friend and NOT the friend you're talking about. It doesn't matter the friend was, indeed, rude, it makes for some awkwardness when you try to convince her the text was about someone else. She may have deserved it, but you know what I mean.

When you own three or more cats, you're a cat lady. Cat ladies are weird. I am not a cat lady. I'm weird, but you know what I mean.

Yet another reason being homosexual would rock out loud sometimes - the absence of the need for birth control. Not to be confused with an absence of the need for safe sex, but you know what I mean.

When your doctor tells you before an elective procedure you might have some side effects, make sure she tells you how LONG you'll have side effects. Three months of dealing with something EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. is a looooong time. Not so bad that you regret the procedure, but you know what I mean.

I say 'yeah' a lot. A lot. And I sound like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man when I say it. neyeaaah neyeaaah. I need to stop saying it. Or at least saying it so much. There are other ways to be annoying. You know what I mean.

So that's all I have. I'm sure I learned much more, but you know what I mean.

neyeaah

It's All About MeMeMe

2008-08-02T01:00:00.004-05:00

Tagged by the ever lovely Jenn and it's been awhile, so what the hell...

1. What is your occupation right now? Bean Counter and HR Administrator. I calculate how much it costs to have me to listen to employees complain about stuff.

2. What color are your socks right now? No socks. Goin' naked. With flourescent pink polish.

3. What are you listening to right now? Jimmie's Chicken Shack. They're a local Naptown band that made it a little big with Do Right and High, but now they're on to other things, namely Jarflys, which I'm also listening to. And hopefully going to see soon. Dammit.

4. What was the last thing that you ate? Bananas Foster. For the first time. That was some messy shit and I'm not exactly crazy about bananas, so it might be the last time, too.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? I've never had any complaints. Nine times out of ten they come back for more, so I gue... oh wait. You're talking cars, aren't you? I've never owned a car that wasn't.

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Some guy at the bar to find out a band's schedule. Yeah, I'm totally talking about Jarflys again. I swear I'm going to see them. I've only wanted to for HOW long? And they play every Tuesday, like 3 miles from my house? What the hell?

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Oh man. She's a total fucking bitch. She gets on my goddamn nerves. :p

8. How old are you today? Thirty five. I still have 2 days left to say that. Which means my 36th birthday must be coming in 2 days. MONDAY. MY BIRTHDAY IS MONDAY. Just in case you didn't know.

9. What is your favorite sport to watch? Baseball. I was actually discussing this with someone today. I love baseball, but hate the fact baseball players are wussies and will end up on the injured list because they sprained their pinky toes.

10. What is your favorite drink? Hrmmm.... It cycles. Bacardi Limon with cranberry, White Russians, Toasted Almonds, etc, etc. Oh, and I like sweet tea.

11. Favourite food? Jesus fucking Christ. Have you seen a recent pic of me? It's painfully obvious I have trouble picking a favorite. I'm an equal opportunity eater. I don't discriminate. Except fish. No likey de fishy. Except the filet at McDonald's.

12. What is the last movie you watched? This one's gonna shock ya. You never saw this one coming. Untamed Heart. For about the zillionth time. And it was just as romantic.

13. Favourite day of the year? Christmas. Yeah, I got nothing smart to say about it, either.

14. How do you vent anger? I get locks of hair and make voodoo dolls and torture the fuck out of whoever's bugging me.

15. What was your favourite toy as a child? Seriously? The outdoors. The beach, the cliffs, riding bikes, all that crap, was awesome. Too bad I forget about how much I enjoyed them.

16. What is your favourite season? Fall. Just warm enough in the day and just cool enough at night.

17. Cherries or Blueberries? Cherries. Ever since I lost mine, I've been on a quest to reclaim it, to no avail.

18. Do you want your friends to add this meme to their blogs? Yes! Anyone who wants to do it, because everybody comes up with pretty witty and entertaining answers.

19. Who is the most likely to respond? Lesleygirl. Ever since she started the blog365 thing, she's always looking for easy ways out. I'd complain, but, like I said, her responses are witty, so I enjoy this stuff from her.

20. Who is least likely to respond? I don't pay attenti

on to who doesn't respond. It's not like a have a will or anything to cut them out of if they don't.

21. Living arrangements? Alone. In peace and quiet. Except for the occassional hocking up of hairballs.

22. When was the last time you cried? I really don't remember. I cry about stupid stuff, but am stone cold when I actually have a reason to cry. I'm weird like that.

23. What is on the floor of your closet?Laundry baskets. Darks and lights, then a pile of whites off to the side.

24. Who is the friend you have had the longest relationship with that you are sending this to? I'm not really sending this to anyone, so I can't really answer that one.

25. What did you do last night? Worked on my computer. I was going to pay someone to do it, then realized I really need to learn to take care of myself more like I used to. I know a lot more and I feel good that I didn't screw it up. Thanks to Stewie for pointing me in the right direction.

26. What inspires you? Lesley and Jenn and Sisyphus. They're all awesome in their own right.

27. What are you most afraid of? Snakes. Particularly snakes coming up through the toilet, but I'm sure everyone already knows that. That and going insane. I hope I'm always intelligent enough to know if I'm slipping in that direction and can stop it.

28. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Cheese. Hamburgers without cheese are just WRONG.

29. Favourite dog breed? Doberman Pinschers. Grew up with them. They are fiercely loyal, protective, big babies.

30. Favourite day of the week? Sunday. I have no idea why. It used to be because that would be the day I did the laundry and cleaned, but not so much anymore.

31. How many states have you lived in? Murrland and Floriduh.

31. Biggest Life lesson? Family's the most important thing. Money is a lot further down the list than most people believe it is.

Iz Miracle!!!

2008-07-28T17:24:00.001-05:00

I got drunk last night and didn't post any goofy blogs!!

Probably because I was posting goofy text messages...

My New Favorite Word

2008-07-27T10:59:00.002-05:00

Dickmatized

Expect to hear it often.

Sign of a Good Day

2008-07-26T18:58:00.004-05:00

My ears are sore from 7 hours with headphones on.

But I'm totally rockin' out, so who cares.

Hey, it Lights Up MY Life

2008-07-09T23:44:00.000-05:00

I have different wav files for certain things on my computer, mostly scheduled tasks. For instance, when I start the computer up, it says, "Hello, baaaaaby!" from Chantilly Lace. One scheduled task has the gavel/doink doink sound from Law & Order. Another task, because I couldn't find a "Stop! Hammertime," wav file, is Eric Cartman, "I'm not fat, I'm big boned!" And the last, and my absolute favorite, is when I shut down. Again, Eric Cartman - "Screw you guys, I'm going home." Nails exactly how I feel.

Makes me smile every time.

Beep Beep Beep We Interrupt This Program for an Important Announcement

2008-06-30T23:25:00.004-05:00

ZOMG!!!! ZOMG!!!! I know where Billy Squier lives!!! ZOMG!!! I'm going into total stalker mode and will be making a trip to New York and stake the place out.

He will be mine!!! All mine!!!!

mmwwaaahhhahahahaha!!!!

Life Was Better With No Internet

2008-06-29T01:27:00.002-05:00

I should have read my book. I should have done the laundry. I should have cleaned. But noooooo, I had to get on the internet. I had to get pissed. What's the target of my ire? This MSN article directed at women. "How To Get Asked Out"

What

The

Fuck

What's this year we're in? 2008? And there's an article teaching women how to get asked out by a man?

What

The

Fuck

Here's my article for women - "How to Get a Date":

Either by phone, text, email, or *gasp* in person, say to the guy, "I've been wanting to do/see such and such. Would you be interested in joining me this weekend?"

"OMG!!! I could never do that!!" Seriously, sweetheart, grow some balls. Fuck waiting around for some guy you like to ask you out. It might never happen, and it might not have anything to do with you. Men can be clueless. Waiting is just wasting time.

Yeah, you run the risk of rejection. We all do. And it hurts. It'll make you never want to ask someone out again. Until you realize you've survived it and you're fine. And then the next one comes along and you do it again. After awhile you realize it just comes with the territory and it doesn't bother you so much.

You're worried about having to pay for the date? First of all, you have a job, right? It won't kill you to shell out a couple of duckets to see if you like him. Nine times out of ten he'll insist on paying, anyway. Or you could say up front, "We'll go dutch," and he'll know what he's getting into. Being financially independent is a turn on for men, ladies. Most men like to take care of their woman, but no man wants to date a woman who's going to sponge off of him. Just don't let him sponge off of you.

Women have fought hard for equality. And while I will be the first to say there are things women shouldn't do (as well as certain things for men), asking someone else shouldn't be one of them. Besides, men love confidence in a woman. It throws them off guard and will earn you a place in their memory, at the very least.

So buck up, baby. If you want a date with a guy, ask him. Don't wait. Screw that article and everything it tells you to be. Be you. Be awesome.

The Return of the Mack

2008-06-28T19:14:00.002-05:00

I am back from vacation. And hooooo!!!! I feel good. I know you're wishing this would be some long entry about everything I did, but, truth be told, I did a whole lot of nothing. Laid out at the beach, even venturing into that below freezing ass water once, walked the boardwalk every freaking day, played the arcades.

I won 4 pairs of earrings and a necklace. All but one pair are really, really nice (I got to pick them out with my 'winnings'). That 4th pair of earrings ain't going NEAR my ears. I won, probably, $50 worth of bling for about $200 worth of playing video poker. A fact that was constantly pointed out by my brother.

We didn't go to Atlantic City, which was the only poo poo for me, but then again, I suck at gambling, so that's probably a good thing.

Our condo was freaking awesome. I had my own room, the condo had an ocean view, as well as a view from the baseball field across the street where they were always playing a game. Unfortunately, it was a little league field, so there was no drooling. I guess that's a second poo poo for me.

I have realized from walking on the boardwalk and eating out with my family that when I see a hot guy, I have a tendency to grin from ear to ear. A little thanks to the Big Guy for putting some awesomeness in the opposite sex here and there. Much appreciated.

I have a tan. Not a big tan, but at least not a burn. I used sunblock. *GASP!!!* Hell's freezing over!!! Nicki used SUNBLOCK!!!! Watch out for those flying pigs!!

Now I'm home, and unwinding a bit before I go out. and I caught up on the email and dating sites. Yes, I said dating sites. Only to check out the profiles of the guys who smiled, winked, and do what the hell else they do to let you know they're interested, at me. And, as usual, 90% of the time, I'm hoping it's some hot stud, and all I get are duds. Although one looked promising. Well, he looked HOT, which ALWAYS makes them look promising. But I'm not pressing that issue.

It was the first full week I've taken since I can't remember when (at least 5 years) that I didn't spend in Florida, and it was nice. Not that seeing the 'rents isn't nice, but the change of scenery was. I didn't think about work, or home (other than the cats' welfare, which was in the hands of Stewie. Who did a great job - they were alive when I came home, and that's what counts), and I wasn't in a hurry to leave, which is not usually how it goes for me.

Soooo.... I'm back, let the emails commence, and I will catch up with blogs tomorrow. I missed you guys. Just a little, though. Just a little.

You Make Me Wanna SHOUT, Kick My Heels Up and SHOUT

2008-06-20T20:16:00.002-05:00

Heeeyoooheeeeyoooo.

13 hours until I'm on my way. I'm so freaking excited I can't stand it. I haven't packed yet because I'm afraid when I do, I'm going to pee my pants.

Life fucking rocks right now.

Cold Turkey

2008-06-19T21:10:00.003-05:00

For those of you who haven't been slapped with my excitement already, I'm going to the beach next week. Eight days, seven nights of no responsibilities, no work, and ... no computers.

I panicked when I realized I wouldn't be able to get online, but then realized I have access to email through my phone. Crisis averted. BUT...

No dating sites.

That's a good thing. I want to take a break, but sometimes habit gets ahold of you and you check for the hell of it. Now I can't look. For eight days and seven nights.

I cannot tell you what I'm more excited by - the sun and sand or the alleviation of all the pressures of work and the dating world.

T minus 36 hours.

***Update: T minus 34 hours and I cannot wait. JesusGodAlmighty, get me out of this hell.

It's All Your Fault

2008-06-18T00:43:00.000-05:00

I never expected myself to be in this boat, dating as a Big Girl. I said constantly I wanted to lose weight before I dated someone, let alone got naked in front of them. I wasn't happy the way I was, so why believe anyone else would be?

Then, what seems like forever ago, I started an email flirtation with someone who changed all of that. He was intelligent, funny, sweet, talented, thought provoking, and handsome as hell - an all around fantastic catch. Who liked me just the way I was. Who made me feel wicked beautiful and made me love me again.

To say those emails were addictive would be an understatement. I positively beamed when I saw something from him in my mailbox, and everyone commented on the change in my demeanor around that time. Even if my body didn't show it, my mind was pounds lighter.

But things happen, people move on, and things don't work out the way you want them to. New people come into your life and make it even better, and you should always be grateful for that. And not only was I grateful for that time I had with him, I was left with this feeling that I was worthy of so much. And I wanted what I was worthy of.

So I can blame all of my dating disasters on him, but truth be told, if this is what I had to go through after getting to know him and myself again in the process, I would do it three times over without a second thought. He's one of those guys who prove there are still good guys left in the world and give you hope you'll find one of your very own. He's one of those guys who make it impossible to be bitter. I still positively adore that man and carry him with gentle hands to a special place in my heart.

So, you, wherever you are, thank you. No matter how discouraging this whole dating process can be, I know I deserve to be happy, and Goddammit, even if I'm going to be alone, I will be happy.

And it's all your fault.

Lalalalala, I Can't Hear You, I Can't Hear You, Lalalala

2008-06-16T00:55:00.001-05:00

I've been completely aggravated with dating lately, but determined not to give up. Last night I think I hit on the reason why. I'm anticipating some bad news and part of me thinks if there's a man around somewhere, he'll provide a distraction for me. Which may or may not be true, but it sounds good now, you know?

Part of me wants to give the person who will bear the bad news the opportunity to present said bad news and just get it over with, but another, louder part of myself is saying, "If I don't hear it, it won't be true," and then I stick my head in the sand.

And then check out all the dating sites for some fresh meat.

I don't know if the tactic is good or some show that I handle bad news poorly, but it's what's going on. All I know is I'm going to the beach next week, and I'm not looking to hear it before then, lest it ruin my time in the sun. Maybe in another or month or so. Or year or two.

Operation: Aversion in full force.

Permission to be a Slut

2008-06-10T23:48:00.000-05:00

I went to the doctor's today, with complaints of trouble hearing, acid reflux, and snoring. The trouble hearing may be caused by allergies or acid reflux, which has been acting up lately despite meds for it. And trust me, that's one med I DON'T miss. That acid reflux shit is killer.

The acid reflux is caused by my weight and food choices. So we've doubled up the dose. And we've decided I have two years to get to a healthy weight. By getting some exercise. And eating better. Forever. No diets.

Then the snoring. The snoring could be my nose, or because that dangly thing in my mouth is extra dangly. So we have to try a couple of different things. The only problem? I need someone to sleep with me to know if stuff works. Oh shucky darn, slap the chickens, I'm gonna have to get a man to help me out with that.

Now I won't be a slut. I'll be doing research.

Research rocks.

You Wanna See Something Gross? I Mean COOL?!?!

2008-06-09T21:23:00.003-05:00

One of my crowns has been breaking apart, so the dentist is going to put on a new one. The only catch was that the tooth it's on is a baby tooth - I never got an adult tooth there. They weren't sure the insurance would cover it because of that.

OK. Here's the extent of my cheapness - I wasn't expecting the insurance company to cover it, because that's always my luck. And since the two crowns I have on my front teeth were close to $1000 each, I figured that's what I'd have to pay to fix this. But I get a call from the dentist's office this morning, telling me the insurance company WILL cover it and my cut is only $243. I'm going Thursday for my fitting. Woo hoo!!

OK. At this point, I'm $757 ahead of the game. I should just stop.

Yeah right. Did you forget who you're talking to here?

The dentist said there'd be the cost of the new crown and the cost of removing the old crown. I decided to save money on the latter.

Enter Nips. If you don't know what Nips are, they're this delicious hard caramel that gets extremely chewy. Think sugared epoxy. I swear, two chomps, and the sucker came right off.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, you get to see what a 35 year old baby tooth that's been sitting under a crown for 20 years looks like.

Idn't cool? It's freaky. Just like me.

One

2008-06-09T07:13:00.000-05:00

It's a one-word meme.

1. Where is your cell phone? Pocket
3. Your hair? Envied
4. Your mother? Visiting!!
5. Your father? Floriduh
6. Your favorite thing? Peen
7. Your dream last night? forgot
8. Your favorite drink? alcohol
9. Your dream/goal? family
10.The room you’re in? reception
11. Missing? #2
12. Your fear? crazy
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? home
14. Where were you last night? brother's
15. What you’re not? clingy
16. Muffins? blueberry
17. One of your wish list items? GPS
18. Where you grew up? Edgewater
19. The last thing you did? email
20. What are you wearing? stripes
21. Your TV? old
22. Your pets? older
23. Your computer? on
24. Your life? booooring
25. Your mood? Piiissssssssyyyyyyyy
26. Missing someone? Asshole
27 Your car? Breaking
28. Something you’re not wearing? socks
29. Favorite Store? Target
30. Your summer? BEACH!!!
31. Like someone? did
32. Your favorite color? Jewels
33. When is the last time you laughed? earlier
34. Last time you cried? unknown
35. Who will/would re-post? Nobody

Easier than I thought and counts as a post!!

I Don't Know About the LOVE Part,

2008-06-05T07:23:00.000-05:00

But I do feel pretty.

Thanks to The Lesley for making me think about this song because now I can't get it out of my head.

Shh, Shh...

2008-06-03T21:21:00.007-05:00

I've got Bjork's It's Oh So Quiet in my head today. Maybe it was lack of sleep or just the simple fact it's one of my favorite songs, but I spent the afternoon singing it to my co-worker and listening to it over and over and over again in my office.

Around the 15th go 'round, I realized this song is probably on the soundtrack to my Commitment-Phobia Nic-umentary. It nails the excitement of a new relationship as well as the quiet comfort when it ends.

Who doesn't love that feel of a new person? Who doesn't love that mystery, the discoveries, the new stuff you learn and the old stuff you re-learn with a new partner? I love the beginnings of a relationship - the giddyness, the goofiness, the grins - everything. And then I find myself with someone and invariably think, "What if our first kiss is the last first kiss I'll ever have?" And the panic sets in.

You know the euphoria is only going to last so long. All of those endorphins are going to give out sooner or later and you'll settle into some ho-hum routine. I'm sorry, but that 'new to you' euphoria is addictive, and I readily admit I jones for it on a regular basis. Hell, I even panic if I can imagine myself with him and think he'll be the last - that's how BAD it is for me. I mean, I could DO it, but there's no doubt my mind will regularly find itself in some mental backalley, looking for a hit from the lips of some hot stripper or whatever uniformed guy I've managed to lay my eyes on in the preceeding few days.

And, to be honest, when a relationship is over, I always feel a little bit of relief and excitement. Because I know there's going to be another first kiss, I know there's going to be another period of unadultered joy at some new person. I know there's going to be a fresh start. But, in the meantime, I enjoy the quietness that is my single life. Especially when there's no dating and trying to weed out 10 guys in search of one who'll spark my interest.

So, now that we've established again the fact I love new men but hate commitment, I give you Bjork:

Because I Know You Care

2008-06-03T06:57:00.000-05:00

This is the mood for the day...

She's a Brick House

2008-05-30T22:56:00.001-05:00

I'm so tired of women trying to be as thin as they possibly can be. Thin is not necessary. Thin is not great. Thin is another thing women use against each other and against themselves to keep them from being happy.

I've told the story I don't know how many times about the Day of My Epiphany. I was tending bar, and a thin woman, what other women would deem 'ideal', walked in, dressed in workout gear. She looked around for someone, and then walked out. It was a slow afternoon, so when she walked in, all eyes were on her. I, in my 'healthy', 'athletic', or 'curvy' shape (read: 10 pounds heavier than my 'ideal' weight), immediately felt less than perfect. I said, "If I drink my milk, some day I'll look like her." Immediately, all the men's heads whipped around towards me and they all started saying, "Noooo!!! Nooo!!! She's way too skinny. You're perfect just like you are."

Imagine that, I'm worried about losing weight, and all these guys were telling me I was perfect.

Around the same time, I was talking to a friend who was still friends with an ex of mine. When the conversation turned to the ex, my friend said, "You know, he misses you. The girl he's seeing now is small and dainty and he's afraid he's going to break her. He said you were solid. He could grip on you. You were fun."

I, who thought I was a good 10 pounds overweight and wanted to lose at least 15, was not only perfect, I was fun. I was a woman.

Another time, I was at a strip club with a guy I was dating. I asked him which girl was his favorite and why. He pointed out one girl and said, "I like her because her boobs sag a little bit, because she's got a little cellulite. I like her because she looks real." A little later, a girl most women would consider perfect - not an ounce of fat on her, perfect skin, flawless legs, etc, - walked by. He pointed her out and said, "That? I don't like. She looks like a Barbie doll. She looks fake. She looks plastic."

I'm not saying that women should change their outlook on weight issues because of what MEN think. I'm simply trying to point out half of the human species has a very different idea of what looks sexy, what looks healthy, what should make us feel good when we're alone and looking in the mirror.

A very special friend who taught me all sorts of good things once gave me the best advice. He told me to eat healthy and get some exercise on a regular basis and my body would take care of itself. My body would decide how much I should weigh. Some people are meant to be skinny and some are meant to be meaty. He said you shouldn't have to diet or 'work' on maintaining a weight as long as you were maintaining a healthy lifestyle. ( I know there are exceptions to that, that some people's bodies go haywire and decides it's going to store every single calorie you consume.)

Women, as a rule, are too hard on ourselves. We try to be better than what perfect really is. You can never be too thin? You could never be more wrong.

There are so many songs that celebrate a woman, and I have yet to hear one singing about how skinny one is. Do you think when The Commodores sing about her being a Brick House they're talking about how she's so thin she has the body of a boy? Aw, helllls no.

So when you look in the mirror and see someone looking back at you that has curves like a sports car, know that's your house. A Brick House.

And you're mighty, mighty.

Trust a Cookie?

2008-05-21T23:38:00.001-05:00

I've been struggling lately. Involving something I don't really want to do, but think would be in the best interest of a lot of people if I do. It would be a monumental change and I wonder if I'm ready for it. I've been trying to prepare myself mentally for it, so I've been thinking about it a lot and imaging what it would be like.

Today I had Chinese. Call me whatever you like, but I put a lot of stock in those fortune cookies (except for the ones that say you're going to get an inheritance. I don't like the fact that basically means someone close to me is going to die. You can keep the inheritance - I want the person alive). Anyhoo, today's fortune?

"You are heading in the right direction"

God help me if I do this. You thought I bitched and whined before... God help us all.

The Learning Curve

2008-05-15T21:53:00.002-05:00

I had my final class tonight, which means I had my final exam. The whole semester came to a point and all of my knowledge tested. I studied last night, I studied at the dentist office this morning, and I studied right before class. And I never study. I was sitting on a C so far and I want at least a B in this class. I think I've got it.

I came prepared. I ate something ahead of time so I wasn't worrying about what I was going to eat when I left because I was starving. I took a potty break and I brought a drink. And as I'm sitting there, test in front of me, all I could think of was one thing - "I want to, no, scratch that, I NEED, to fart." The whole frigging class concentrating on the test so quietly and I need to break wind. Unfreakingbelievable.

I was terrified to do it. I would get to the point where my stomach would cramp up so bad that I was willing to risk it, and then I would think about the bookstore. Thinking I was going to let a little one slip out and having it end up being louder than a dragster taking off. So I didn't do it.

Yes, I just wrote a blog about farting. And I'm not apologizing. I do it a lot. It's a side effect of the medication I take, so I can't help it. And it freaking hurt. It was traumatic.

And while we're on the subject:

Beans and hot dogs on my plate. Gotta go to the bathroom, *BRRRIIIPPP* too late.

Beans, beans, good for your heart. The more you eat, the more you fart. The more you fart, the better you feel. So eat some beans with every meal!!

Yeah, I'm totally 10 years old.

Pull my finger.

The 5 Finger Blog

2008-05-13T20:41:00.003-05:00

I was tagged by the lovely HotDudi to do this here thang. So here we go:

5 things in my bag

#1 and most important, Xanax. Without it, I'd be a whiny, bitchy, pissy, moany, pain in the ass woman. Yeah, I'm usually not on it when I write my blog entries.

My debit and credit cards. Gotta flaunt that wealth, baby. Gotta flaunt that wealth.

Pencil. For school. Or for stabbing someone's eye out if they try to accost me. Hey, it's cheaper than mace.

Gum. I have a phobia of having bad breath. And having to kiss a guy with bad breath. Ick.

Medical bill that needs to be paid. For bloodwork my doctor ordered but can't be bothered to give me the GODDAMN RESULTS FOR. I could be dying of a friggin brain tumor, and would HE care? Noooooo, just keep paying those office visits. He doesn't even take insurance. He's the friggin' reason I need credit cards.

5 favorite things in my room

I'm going with my living room. Hmmm.... My recliner. The one I got at a yard sale for $5. I love that friggin' thing. While it looks like a granny rocker, it's comfortable as hell. And it's in really good shape, too. I think about it every time I listen to Everclear's Thrift Store Chair. I'm gonna put a John Prine record on. I think I need to slow down for awhile.

Pictures of my nieces and nephew. 'Nuff said.

Books. I love my books. I don't know why, but they make me happy. And not from reading them, because I don't do that, I just buy them. And look at them. And read the backs and jackets and think about what an interesting story it whould be. But not interesting enough that I'll give up my TV time to read it.

My new DVR box from the cable company. Now I can tape every show I want and watch them at my leisure. You have no idea how convenient that is. And I can watch blocks of shows instead of an episode here and there.

My china hutch. It was my mom's and her father's, and for whatever reason, it's just comforting to look at. But I would give it back to my mom in a heartbeat as long as I get it in the will.

5 things I have always wanted to do

Have a kid. Yeah, I know I'd probably regret it during those sleepless nights, and the kid's father would probably be an ass that I'd be forced to deal with forever, but still, I wanna know what my babies would look like.

Get a hard body. Get totally ripped.

Take a cruise. The Loooooove Boooaaaat soon will be making another run... I will meet the perfect man on this cruise, and fall in love in a week, and get married, and live happily ever after. Or at least until sweeps week when we would have problems, and you don't know if the relationship would last it or not, but then we get on de plane!! de plane!! and go to Fantasy Island. Oh come on, you know you've always wanted to do that, too!!!

Marry Billy Squier. He just doesn't know what he's missing, man. I would love that boy nine ways to Sunday. Oooo!!! I could have Billy's baby!!

Tell him I love him.

5 things I'm currently into:

Snacking. Yes, that's a weird thing to put down, but seriously, I'm snacking a lot now. And getting into it. Buying all kinds of snacks. Screw meals. Why cook a meal if you can grab a snack?

My cell phone. It's new and made for texting. And it has Tetris on it. And it's green, so I don't look all plain boring like everyone else.

Paying my bills as soon as my check hits the bank. Online. All at once. It's way easier to breathe that way.

Pinching pennies. There's changes on the horizon and it takes money.

Soda. I can go for months and months and months without one and then I'll have to have 2 or 3 big ones a day.

5 people to tag

Peter Rabbit
Peter Piper
Peter Peter Pumkin Eater
Peter Brady
Peter the Pecker

Seriously, this blog business is one big incestuous orgy and everybody's been picked by someone else.

Warning Man Hatin' Rant Ahead

2008-05-13T02:14:00.000-05:00

Give an inch, take a mile. Give another half inch, take 3 miles. Thus is the spirit of late with the relationships I have (or attempt to have) with men. I, however, will not bow, and will only go so far until someone meets me for the rest of the trip.

Seriously, I do not understand why the simpler I make things for a man, the more they want. I am convinced that men like dating bitches. I'm nice, I'm uncomplicated, I don't have expectations of a relationship 2 dates into it. I'm very easygoing and I'm constantly getting tested on it. I'm just going to start harping on every friggin' thing, expect a man to pick up the tab every friggin' time we go out, expect him to shower me with gifts, and just totally worship the ground I walk on.

And what the hell?!?! Guys stand me up, or otherwise treat me like crap and then email or text or IM me a couple of months later like everything's honky dory. What the hell?!!?! And worse yet, I'm actually nice to them. What the hell is wrong with me for doing that?!?!

I'm going to bed.

Thanks for the Memories, Even Though They Weren't So Great

2008-05-09T23:40:00.001-05:00

**This post was moved to the top to help the day's posts make more sense. For those of you who want to know what kind of posts I make when I'm drinking, you've got it.**

OK. Up front - I'm drinking. And the breathalyzer on the computer isn't working. This post, and subsequent posts are subject to um.... reversal? REMOVAL!!! That's the word I'm looking for.

Why is it that when I'm feeling the most social there is NO ONE ONLINE?!?!?! If I knew it was going to be this dead, I'd have stayed at the bar. It would have been a long walk home, but it would have been worth it. I think.

OK. I left for a bit. I put some grub in the oven (corndog bites and chicken fingers. There's gotta be some um.... protein in there somewhere).

I also did a sexy little dance to Terence Trent D'Arby's Who's Loving You. Or as sexy as a dance where your knees are cracking like um... not pop tarts.... RICE KRISPIES under your fat ass can be.

My cat totally does not appreciate it when I sing to her. Totally does not. Peckerhead.

I really should be cleaning the apartment. You know, in the obscure chance I get a gentleman caller. Which we all know won't happen, because as freaky as I am, I'm really a prude in whore's clothing. OOOOO!!!!! My new title? Is that better than Sunshine and Kitten Farts? Hmmm.... I just realized I changed my name to something last night, but I can't remember what.

SOMEBODY GET ONFUCKINGLINE!!!

I was thinking this hidden track on Blue October's Foiled album reminds me of Stewie, but then I realized the theme song to Laverne and Shirley reminds me of him more.

Stewie, make all your dreams come true.

I'm sure more is to follow, but RuPaul's um... Supermodel? is on. I have some serious in the dark dancing to do.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

2008-05-09T23:32:00.001-05:00

So I'm seeing that Kix is doing a show in NY next month. I'm online, trying to figure out how long it would take to get there, how much it would cost, etc, and Yeah, Yeah, Yeah starts playing in my headphones. Should I go to NY and see them next month AND see them again in B'more in September? Ooo ooo ooo ooo, tell me yeah, yeah, yeah.

You Might Need a Haircut If You

2008-05-09T23:20:00.002-05:00

Drop a peanut and can't find it and then finally see it in that rat's nest you call hair.

Welcome to the Jungle, We Got Fun and Games

2008-05-09T23:00:00.002-05:00

OK. This is getting old. The whole 'I'm such a poor lost soul and you're the only one who can save me' act. Isn't there some national list I can sign up on where the men online know they ain't gonna get squat with me? Seriously, if I hear one more line about how alone they are and I'm the only one who can make them feel better, I'm going to effing scream.

Can You Take Me High Enough, to Fly Over Yesterday

2008-05-09T22:49:00.004-05:00

It hurts, to see friends hurt - to not know what to say to make them feel better, if there is anything you can say. Especially when they make you feel better in your time of need. I have friends in pain now and all I want to do is take them someplace where grief can't touch them, to let them know they're loved more than they will ever know. Because they are. Very much so.

Too Good to Keep in the Dark

2008-05-09T20:54:00.003-05:00

I totally spent the last five minutes in the bathroom, dancing to Salt n Pepa's Let's Talk About Sex in the mirror. Let's talk about you and me, let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be. Condoms are your FRIEND, peoples!! You should share, but not EVERYTHING!!!

I'm so freaking sexy when I dance. Don't get jealous, my peeps. Just practice. And drink your milk.

Public Service Announcement

2008-05-09T20:50:00.001-05:00

Corndogs and Bacardi Limon and cranberry do NOT mix.

Ew.

I'm On to Your Scam, Mister. I'M ON!!!!!

2008-05-09T20:48:00.002-05:00

A couple of months ago, I gave it a whirl with a relationship I knew was a sham. It was only online and I knew what it was going in, I just wanted to know how women got suckered in. I learned, and moved on.

Now I'm coming across a LOT of these guys, and it's really hard to not be rude.

I'm way too fucking nice.

Let's Go Surfing Now, Everybody's Learning How

2008-05-07T21:31:00.001-05:00

I've been surfing the net the last couple of nights, and all I have to say is there's some freaky people out there into some freaky stuff.

I hope at least some of them are a joke.

Baby Steps. Itty Bitty Baby Steps

2008-05-07T20:18:00.000-05:00

I've started the process. I realized, after all, I AM Nicki, and I do ROCK!, so I'm not letting anything hold me back. Except a few minor things that are blocking my way. But I'm working my way around them. Victory will be mine!!

I'm still not getting my hopes up about the outcome, though. I may ROCK! but I'm not perfect, and that could hurt me. Fate is a cruel, cruel mistress, or whatever the hell that saying is. I hope I'll have the guts to say out loud just what the hell I'm working towards, but I know you'll be patient. You ROCK! like that.

Now that I've decided to take a dating break, men are coming out of the woodwork to hit on me. They're like cockroaches. I've flat out told a couple that I'm not interested in dating only to have them think surely I don't mean THEM, ignored others, and been downright rude to a couple, but they just won't quit. Where the hell are you all when I'm actually INTERESTED?!?!?!

And in addition to bringing disgusting ass fucking pissy I hate them leftovers to work for lunch, I've also brought some sweet tea. Decaffeinated sweet tea. Yeah, no caffeine makes for a not happy Nicki. I think I might cave and get a soda. After all, I'm not perfect.

But I DO ROCK!