Saturday, December 31, 2011

To Do/2012 Resolutions

  1. Complete the 21 day sugar detox
  2. Lose 2 dresses to get to a size 6
  3. Run at least 15 miles a week
  4. Advance career
  5. Pay more attention
  6. Be tidy
  7. Budget
  8. Make friends to hang out with where I live
  9. Become rich and/or somewhat famous
  10. Limit alcohol to weekends
I can do that, right? 

Friday, December 30, 2011

A Year in Review: 2011

Oh, 2011, what a year you've been! Let's take a look, shall we?
  • Began a new position in my company. I was really excited about this but I ended up loathing it because of a difficult work situation. But, it came with a nice raise, more autonomy (too much at times), and I have learned a lot that I can use towards finding a new position.
  • Got to live through the 20th anniversary of my father's death the day after my SIL found out that her cancer had returned. But the man has been dead longer than I ever knew him and SIL has a fantastic attitude. She and my brother actually just hiked up one of the mountains near my mother's house. She was wrecked at the end, poor thing, but at least she can say that she did it, one leg and all. 
  • Enjoyed about a month of really bad headaches and blurry vision, multiple (and costly) trips to the emergency room, and sheer terror only to find out that I have multiple sclerosis. Yeah, this one sucks and I'm not going to pretend to have all ethereal, positive, happy feelings about it. It could have been a hell of a lot worse and so far I don't really have any problems other than inconvenient, unsightly, and uncomfortable side effects from the drugs. Most days I suck it up and act like a big girl but I do have my moments where I weep out of nowhere.
  • I developed an almost stalker. This one is just bizarre and out of the blue. I thought I'd made a really good friend and in some ways, I had. But I behaved stupidly and blindly and didn't note the obsession and intensity until it was almost too late. But I learned a lot about myself, other people, and how not to be such an ass. I also ended up making what I believe will be a lifelong friend, one that I'm not scared of in the least and who I know I can trust.
  • My marriage ended. J and I separated in July and tried to work things out. Then I felt that things were well and truly over only to find that I wanted to give it another go. I've known for a little while now that it really is over because as much as I love him and care for him, I do not feel that romantic tug anymore. I finally told him last night, after we'd hung out all weekend. He didn't say much and I sobbed and eventually I just had to go because I was so upset and he wasn't speaking. It was the right thing to do but that doesn't make it any better, does it? I have never felt so guilty and horrible in my life for having hurt him repeatedly. I just hope he understands one day that this was not easy for me either. There is good in this, I know, but you'll forgive me if I don't think about that right now and just let myself be upset.

I will never look back on 2011 with any real affection because it truly has been a shit year. But I have yet to experience anything insurmountable and for that I am grateful. We all have our difficult times and we all deal with them in our own way. I talk about coping quickly and moving on but when I look back on this year, I remember so many days of crying and being afraid, staying in bed all day to be sad, and feeling fairly hopeless. It was, indeed, a sad year and a terrifying one. I developed a disease, a broken marriage, and an almost stalker. But I also learned a lot, grew up, and gained a new understanding of the world and what strength really entails. I also discovered that people are often genuine and kind to me, even if I feel I don't necessarily deserve it. Not because I'm awful but because I do not really present myself as someone to be kind to.

I can't exchange this year for anything, but I can look forward to 2012 with optimism and hope. Not because things can't possibly get worse - I know damn well that they can - but because I know I can continue to survive if only to say fuck you to my life, my body, and my brain, to say, you won't defeat me.

I hate working switchboard

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Lazy Lexicon

Now that's lazy
This morning upon arriving at work, I found that I was ravenously hungry. I still am as a matter of fact. Around 10 I went into the break room to get my greek yogurt from the fridge; I actually managed to kick the door as I was closing it, hurting the hell out of my foot. Back at my desk I looked down at the container and just thought "this is too much work, my man" and ended up taking it back. It was too much work for me to open the container and manually mix the fruit into the yogurt. The grapefruit, kiwi, and apple that I brought with are clearly beyond me so I've thus far eaten some grapes and blackberries and blueberries because they required the least effort. I've also had copious amounts of coffee because I somehow think that will make me feel full.

Yep, I just won the gold in lazy.

Moving on Over
Welcome! I guess I should have started this post with this bit but the laziness just seemed more important. If you are reading this, you are either one of four people who requested the new link or you stumbled upon it whilst looking for porn (sorry, no porn here). I've been threatening for about two weeks to change my domain and was reminded that today was the day. So! has been born. Why the change you ask? Well....
  1. I am super paranoid about people at work finding my blog even though I'm careful and don't mention the company name or anything like that. My blog was previously tied to my personal email, so I wanted to tie it to an anonymous email but blogger doesn't let you do that. Thus, I had to create a fake email, export my old blog, and import it into this one. I feel quite techy and smart having figured that all out!
  2. There are certain people who know about this blog that I do not want reading it. Stalker is one of them so if you know me in real life and you know Stalker, kindly keep my new address to yourself, OK? I found out last night that he pissed me off even more than I originally thought and I don't want any more nonsense from him. Thanks!
  3. I don't think I really have a third reason but lists look short and superfluous when you only have two items.
And thus the new web address. Do you like it? I do! I don't care what you think actually, I just really like the word 'lexicon' and 'lazy lexicon' has a nice ring to it. Fuck you if you don't like it, I wasn't really asking for your opinion.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to update my settings so that they match my previous blog.

Peace out.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Open letter to J v2

Darling J,

I am writing this in the off chance that you will read it, because I know it would be inappropriate of me to contact you to tell you these things.

But I want you to know how much I love you. You asked me the other day "so I have to go through this again?" As though I didn't. I know it was I who ended it and that I was the one who knew it wouldn't work. But that doesn't mean it was easy for me. I really thought it would work when I asked for another chance, I did. i had you over for the weekend hoping that I would feel it so that I wouldn't hurt you yet again.

But we aren't the same people. I suppose I'm mostly to blame. When we got together I was 23, not medicated for a year, no future, no hopes. But then we came to Ohio and I found that I did have drive and ambition, that I didn't just have to ride your coattails, though your coattails are admirable. I'll never be as intelligent as you are, and that is not a condemnation on me, just the truth. I will never be that smart, but I'm good at what I do and I found a future. I found self esteem and a backbone. That sounds like you only wanted me because I as weak but that isn't what I meant. I just meant that things changed, that I changed.

I will always love you like no other. I will always worry that you aren't taking care of yourself, that you aren't being pushed to do what is right to make sure you are well. I will always lament the idea that I can't make sure that things are OK. To that end, I will always do my part. I will remain married to you for as long as it takes to make sure you have good health benefits. That sounds cold but really, it isn't. I want to make sure you have the best care available for you. I want you to be checked regularly by specialists to ensure you are OK, to ensure that you are taken care of, because I love you.

I made the mistake of emailing you, saying that I didn't want you to be lonely, that I enjoyed hanging out with you. I can't imagine how that must have felt. I regretted it the minute I told someone because I know that must have hurt. I just didn't want you to feel I was abandoning you. I will be a part of your life for as long as you will have me. I just want you to be OK. I will inject myself everyday, hate the side effects, and deal with whatever is down the road as long as you are OK and happy, though I know it may take time for you.  I will do anything, take anything, if only to know that you will be OK.

Because I do love you. I will never stop being nice and kind to you. And like I said before, others will be nice and kind as well. You just have to let them in. I know I was one of the firsts but I'm not going to be the last. You are wonderful. It doesn't matter that my feelings have changed, you are still who you are. You are the most intelligent person I've ever met. You are the funniest, the only one I ever had to worry about making me pee myself in the car. You are handsome, physically, but you also have that dark, brooding quality that women love so well. You really are superb and I hope that one day you will understand that nobody has anything on you.

I would have ended up making you very unhappy. I'm reckless, irresponsible, and just fucked up. I can live like that but you couldn't. Neither one of us was right nor wrong. It's who we are. But you'll find one day that your life would have been shit if we'd stayed together.

That doesn't make it better, I know. I know because as much as I know I made the right choice by telling you that it is over, I still feel like hell. I cry at night over it because I feel so terribly guilty for hurting you over and over. I never meant to, I promise.

There is no one else and i hope you believe that. My friend from work? It wasn't too hard to break that friendship and he turned into a creepy stalker. If I could take that all back I would and we would still be where we are today.

I love you. I like you. You are the best person I've ever met and the biggest influence in my life. I will never forget you and hope to always be in your life so that forgetting you is never a possibility.

I love you and I hope that one day soon you'll understand.



Who you gonna call?

Further conversational awesomeness:

Saying goodbye to a friend via text:
"... and then do some chores. Good luck killing things!"

Texted conversation twixt me and my BFF regarding a 21 day sugar detox we are planning with another BFF.
ME: "I have been drinking water and eating healthy crap all day and am CRANKY."
BFF: "I think we're going to be extra cranky starting the detox but I hope to feel much better on it."
ME: "I'm certain we will. I am going to run at the gym after work so that will help, as will the beer I will drink when I get home."
BFF: "Good girl."

Texted conversation with the other friend who will do the 21 day sugar detox:
Me: "I did really well today save for 3 left over choco chip cookies and beer. But hey, had to get rid of the beer or else it would have felt abandoned."
KR: "I'm drinking wine like a race horse and eating mashed potatoes." 

Less awesome:

I found out that Stalker told Friend B things he shouldn't have. He shared more things regarding me than necessary and was quite indiscreet. This surprised me and made me a bit angry because I wasn't expecting it and I do NOT like having anything personal about me shared with others unless I'm the one doing the sharing. More disturbing is the fact that Stalker spoke in terms suggesting that he and I were an item, boyfriend and girlfriend, when we never were. Was this posturing because he felt threatened by the guy he shared with? Did he really believe that there was more there than in reality? I don't know and I don't care but it irks me greatly that I have to routinely tell a friend that I was never the Stalker's and thus, the Stalker never lost me. He never had me and I was never his. It pisses me off that he made it seem differently to others and I would like to go out and set the record straight for everyone only I'm a nice girl and always the bigger person and so have to just let it go as it is, as was pointed out to me, water under the bridge. A bridge I'd like to burn, along with the troll underneath it, but that is neither here nor there.

Neither here nor there:

Work is a bit frustrating but what else is new? You can only control so much and so I'm doing my best to take the reigns of my life so as to avoid spiraling like I did when it wall fell apart in July. I loaded up on fruits and vegetables last night and went to the gym for the first time in ages after work. I ran three, whole miles! Sure, it took me the better part of an hour and I had to split it into three intervals, but I did it and I was so pleased. I was actually ridiculously excited to be on a treadmill after running outside in the cold for the past few weeks. My membership expires on the 17th of January and I'll renew and just economize. I'm also going to start a 21 day sugar detox with two girlfriends on January 2. It's all part of trying to turn my life around so that I'm actually healthy to avoid being all fucked up when I'm older. Lord knows if I'm going to be successful but meh, it's something to do, right?

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Inside Outside

I feel disembodied and floaty today. I see my limbs doing things but don't necessarily feel them as they go. I feel like I'm in somebody's body, looking through her eyes and working her arms and legs like a puppeteer. It's disturbing and I don't like it. I was OK this morning when I ate ice cream for breakfast at 7 a.m. But now that I'm at work and I've eaten a proper meal, I just feel detached and disassociated from myself. I was standing in a friend's office, telling her about what happened last night and I realized I couldn't really feel myself. Even as I wiped away the tears that I embarrassingly let slip, they didn't quite feel real.

I never noticed how childlike my desk here at work is. I have all manner of objects on my shelves, including a stuffed lady bug that J got me. His name is Larry and he holds my bosses receipts so that I can remember to do his expense reports. I have random gifts from the stalker that I haven't gotten around to throwing out yet. There are cards from various friends for various occasions, and toys I brought from home. There is even a stuffed animal cat named Five, sitting in a dark recess where only I can see him.

How can one be so childish and feel such tearing, ripping, gaping pain? How can one be so childish and hurt so maturely?

I told him last night that it was over, that I didn't have any romantic feelings for him. I eventually went home and sobbed. I've cried twice at work today, once at my desk, holding it back fairly successfully, and once in my friend's office, unable to save face. My friend told me that I can't be responsible for J's emotions and I can't go around collecting people to help and fix like baby birds with broken wings. I know that. I also know that I did the right thing, telling him last night rather than putting it off.

But all the knowing in the world doesn't make me feel better at all.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Thank goodness that's over with

I was a nicer version of myself yesterday, wishing friends and family "Merry Christmas" and even sending out a generic "Happy Christmas" on Facebook just to avoid being a total asshole. Don't get me wrong, whilst I abhor religion, want no part of it, and despise the way people won't let me be about that, I do not hate the religious.  J may be the only atheist friend I actually have. With the exception of Spark Plug, my Muslim convert college friend, all my friends seem to be Christian. So is my mother. I think my eldest brother may be agnostic but when you haven't really had a relationship in over a decade, does it really matter? So yeah, I fucking hate religion and am irritated as fuck when people wish me "Merry Christmas" all willy nilly; I hate it more when people wish me "Merry Christmas" when they know I am an atheist (this does not apply to close friends but to acquaintances*).  But I try not to be a dick because I know I'm in the minority so I was a sweet girl and was all sunshine and light and didn't say anything inflammatory to any of my friends. Special thanks to the one who wished me a "happy fourth Sunday of the month."

*My close friends fuck up and send me cards saying "Merry Christmas" or send me presents but it is totally absent-minded and that's fine because I know they aren't praying over the cards or gifts with the hope that sweet baby Jesus will hug my heart and save me. But if you've only known me a few weeks or months and you have been told I'm an atheist, I take exception because I would think you would be more careful about that shit. I don't care if it is part of your culture or your way of life; my way of life is to full on swear at you and tell you just what I think of your beliefs. But I understand that isn't what you are into so I'm mother fucking polite and well mannered, biatch.

Thank goodness that's over though, right? No more awful songs played round the clock, no more of that terrible Christmas scent that they seem to spray all over. No more forced and faked good will. I do like that people give to charity a lot this time of year but it also irritates me that it is made into a big deal around Christmas and then seemingly forgotten about the rest of the year. I also don't like that I end up giving all of my cash to the Salvation Army just because I go to the grocery store every freaking day and feel guilty if I pass that bell ringer without slipping his metal bucket a dollar. But mainly, this time of year feels like a mine field with my having to side step offending others, bury the offense I feel, and basically try, for once, to not be an asshole. 

Now we can all focus on New Year's, the raddest holiday of the year when we all get wasted on booze and hopes of being better people in the next year. I know now everyone does the resolution thing or even the drunk thing but that is something I can get on board with. People filled with artificial good cheer brought on by copious libations and hope laying warm like a blanket tucked around everyone's shoulders. Every year a fresh start, something so many of us desire. A new year to not be a pussy, a prick, a sissy, a sloth. Hope is a like a drug or an orgasm or a spin of the roulette wheel. You let it build up inside of you until you are filled to bursting and you take your chance. Maybe your hopes will be realized in some form or maybe they will be completely dashed. But it is intoxicating when you let it take you over so intensely for a brief moment of time. And having something to look forward to, no matter how minor, is what keeps some of us moving one foot in front of the other, even if it is just hope of something better.

I'll take that over an obese man with bad fashion sense and bits of food in his facial hair any day.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Twas the night before who gives a fuck

I could really go for a V8. I know, that does sound weird, but not only is it true, but I actually did try to go for one, forgetting that I had already drank the one can I had left here at work. What brought on this sudden craving for a healthy beverage? List making. I wrote up a list this morning called "Shit That Needs to be Done Today" and so far the only thing I've accomplished is 'work on resume.' I sort of did 'honest effort at work' because I have done a few work things, but let's face it, it is the day before a three day weekend. So I thought I'd add 'cram something healthy into self' and then thought "ooh! V8! How simple." Guess it is a good thing I didn't actually write it on the list.

As I said above, I worked on my resume. Actually, I updated it and applied for another job within my company, one that would take me to the corporate side of things and find me reporting to someone in a different office. I don't think I'll be asked to transfer as the posting is listed as being for my office, but one never knows. I told J about the job last night and suggested he apply for it as well since it requires professional writing experience, of which he has oodles. It would be strange if he got the job and worked in my office, but only because Friend A is here. I think I could work in the same office as my husband/estranged husband/lover/adulterer/secret agent/whatever, just fine. There had been a posting for a similar job in another office and I wanted to apply for that as well but it disappeared before I had a chance. Boo hoo.

Speaking of J, he is coming over for pizza and beer and forgetfulness on the 25. He called the other night and the following came up in the course of our conversation:

J: "So, uh, what are you doing for Christmas?"
Me: "Celebrating the birth of the lord."
J: <laughter>
Me: "What?"
J: "No, it's just funny to hear you say it like that."
Me: "Do you want to come over for pizza and beer and forget all about Christmas like usual?"
J: "Yeah."

Poor J. I feel bad because he lives by himself in a studio apartment and doesn't really interact with anybody. But at the same time, he just doesn't seem to try to make friends or hang out with the ones he has so I try to be objective and understand that it is not healthy for either one of us for me to be his only friend. That was part of the problem when we were still living together. He was home all the fucking time and didn't speak to anyone other than maybe to teach. So then I'd get home and he'd be ready to interact and I'd be ready to just decompress because I'd been interacting all day. I became his only routine friend, his only outlet, and his only connection with society and it was too much for me.

I'll see him tonight after work. I have to stop by the library (yet again) and that is right down the street from him so I'm going to meet him for a drink. Then I'll get my book, head home, take a nap, and, upon waking, hit the chores hard. So much to vacuum, so much grown up stuff to deal with (rather than ignore), and so much trying to force myself to be an adult. I think I ought to give up on that because I say it all the time. It's like when I say "OK, I am going to be super healthy" and then I devolve into beer and nachos or something similar. If you don't have self discipline and are an adult, there isn't much external motivation to actually behave properly. Or maybe that's just me? I don't know. I don't care. My boss, who is on leave for the rest of the year, just came in and so now I have to look busy. And I get to cover the phones from 4-5. Jealous?

Thursday, December 22, 2011

These things have nothing in common

Seriously, these are all professional women (except for me)

I'm really laying into PacMan all of a sudden:

Ghost Sex:

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


Regardless of the regularity with which I take (prescribed) mood altering drugs, my mood has swung violently into crankiness. I can't go into it here because there is too much back story required and if you don't work with me, you just won't get it. So, instead, I am going to draw some shitty pictures to try to get myself to snap out of it. Enjoy.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

In which I talk too much about my piggy

This is Johan:

He's eating a pepper and being all cute and good. This is what he looked like when he was just a baby and I thought he was a girl.

Aww. Yah, I can hear you out there. And we all remember this:

We still make one another this happy, me all stupidly grinning, Johan confused and thinking how to escape. Here he is trying to get into what J refers to as "non pig approved parts of the apartment."

A bit "Where's Waldo" I know, but it takes a lot to keep him trapped in since I gave J my old stereo. The reason he is trying so hard to get through is because of the events not shown; namely, Johan successfully getting into other parts of the apartment.

Hey, at least I'm not whining about my disease again. Plus, I put a bunch of pictures of a cute pig in this post. You're welcome.

Monday, December 19, 2011


It's funny how unprepared you can be when you think you'll be fine. Every time I finish a bath and go to take a shower, I think I've run the water long enough to be warm only to be shocked with a brief blast of cold.

In October, I was seen by a Certified Nurse Practitioner named Colleen to discuss treatment and get a prescription. I was terrified, relieved, and grateful that she would see me because I'd been told the day before my scheduled appointment that my treating neurologist was ill and couldn't make it and the CRNs only worked in the day time. I had to email a client stating that I had to leave no later than 11, the scheduled end of a meeting, in order to make an appointment and if they foresaw the meeting running late I would make arrangements. They said it would be fine and thank you for the notice.

Colleen wanted to speak in depth about all of my options. I knew there were inject-able drugs and the Tysabri infusion, the clinical trial I would refuse. She told me all about Copaxone. how it had been FDA approved in 1996 and had very few side effects. Granted, I'd have to inject every day, but this seemed like the best answer. Side effects included, mainly, some minor injection site reaction and a possible chest tightness that dissipated in 30 minutes. While still nervous about administering a daily injection, I signed up whole heartedly. I even had a flu shot for the first time to see what a shot would feel like. No big deal.

I was not prepared for the knots. It doesn't happen every time but it happens frequently enough where I develop hard knots under my skin which redden and becomes sore and itchy. As they fade, the knots leave phantom bruises. They are unsightly and irritating but warm compresses help with the itching. But then J helped me shoot into my arm for the first time last night and I've had what I believe is a negative reaction that has caused me concern for the past few hours. I've felt this way one other time in my life, years ago, and the feeling is so odd that I don't like describing it to people because it makes them uncomfortable. I feel as if a layer of my being is slowly stripping away from my body, internally. Not my legs or arms, my by central nervous system, like I am shedding a very much needed part of my skull and spine. It is a nebulous feeling and an uncomfortable one. I'm not scared, not yet, because, as I said, I've had this before and also I read on line, whilst researching a different reaction, that many people cannot shoot into their arms because they have a worse reaction.

But I wasn't prepared. I thought I might have some redness and soreness, not hard lumps under my skin that I press on like old chewing gum. Not warm red marks, making me fear an infection. I spoke with a friend today about what might lay in store for me, something I don't do very often because I don't like discussing things I have no control over and I don't like dwelling in fear. But then I started to have this very odd and uncomfortable sensation and multiple sclerosis felt real to me for the first time in 6 months, the day after I mailed a letter to a friend in which I said that it still did not feel real regardless of the daily shots.

I think a lot of people think of MS and think of wheelchairs. I know I used to. But now that I have it, this dreaded disease that I've always been scared of, I know more about it and know how much more is at stake. My friends and family don't like to talk about the "might happen" aspects because they can't stand to think of them happening to me.  I don't either, but I have to be a big grown up and know what might happen. I have to understand that I may lose my vision and have diminished cognitive function. I have to know that one day I may not be able to walk. I think I could handle a wheel chair, but what if I cannot see to read, what if I lose my capacity to think as well as I do? I never knew that these were things I'd have to be terrified of. And there is nothing I can do because there are no guarantees with MS. Things are good right now, weird side effects and all, but I cannot play ostrich anymore. Not that I have to ruminate in what may be awaiting me or give up on life as others might if they feel they've been given a death sentence. But I have to be aware of what might happen so that I can be as prepared as possible.

Not that I'll ever be fully prepared for any of it. I just can't risk being shocked.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Charity starts in the mother fucking home, son

Reminder: On 12/29 I will have a new domain name. Please email me with your location (geographical) at if you want the new address.

Today I made donation to a local radio station for the sole purpose of requesting that they play either N.W.A. or the Wu-Tang Clan. I mean, yeah, I'm helping the kids but that wasn't the point. I texted my friend about this and he said "for someone living paycheck to paycheck, you are quite the philanthropist." My reply was "I may live paycheck to paycheck but at least I have one. I firmly believe in giving when I can. I was semi-homeless for six months."

That is something I forget about sometimes, and I don't even know if six months is correct. When I was 18 and 1/2 years old, one of my brothers attempted suicide when I was home. I don't know if my mom blamed me for it or was just pissed that I never asked after him when he was in an institution. Both of my brothers always thought I was cold and heartless because I never spoke about my father leaving and dying. I don't talk to my family about emotional shit usually. But for whatever reason, about a week after my high school graduation party, my mom kicked me out of the house. She literally said "my way or the highway". Her way included a straight jacket and insane asylum, which I probably could have used. But I took the highway.

I lived for a few months with my dear friend Carolina, babysitting her children and serving as a kind of personal assistant. She was a huge influence in my life and it is because of her that I say "sugar honey ice tea" instead of "shit" at times. She died a couple of years ago and while I miss her, I never forget her. After that, I lived with my then boyfriend. His family lived in a trailer and I climbed in and out of the window and pissed into bottles and cups for however long. Then we broke up and I slept where I could, usually the art studio where I worked, taking 'baths' utilizing a sink that only had cold water. I once had to sew myself a pair of underpants because I ran out of clean ones and couldn't afford to do laundry. My mom once made fun of me for the amount of underwear that I have and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I horde that shit because I had to do that.

I eventually applied and got into college. By the time my first real break came up, my mom let me come home.

So I give because I can. When I tell people the story of my semi homelessness, they say things like "I'm so sorry!" or "wow, you've had it rough". But I really haven't. I've been to nine different countries. I've been to both Alaska and Hawaii. I was born with a decent IQ and I have a job, car, and apartment. My life has been a cakewalk. So whilst my past does make me seem like a badass, I'm really not. I just cope well and have a lot of mother fucking luck.

I will always donate to good causes if I think I can get some gangsta rap out of it.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Conversations of awesomeness

Reminder: On 12/29 I will have a new domain name. Please email me with your location (geographical) at if you want the new address.

Texted conversation upon dropping J at his place.

Me: "I gave you a stereo and beer. I am your Christmas miracle."
J: "I gave you a link to a story about dead witches. I am your Nightmare Before Christmas."


(Background: J hangs out with a friend of his in the back of their apartment complex and there is a raccoon that frequents the area. I've never seen him but I named him Dan.)

ME: "My hunter friend just emailed me 'I fell asleep (past out) in my stand and just woke up. No deer but a raccoon was pissing me off so I shot it.' I laughed for five minutes."
J: "I'm going to shoot Dan then."


Dominoes Guy: "My! We've been drinking!"
ME: looking over my shoulder at the collection of empty beer bottles on my coffee table and shrugging, "whatev dude, it's Saturday."


Email from a friend:

Hey Cat,

I was reading your latest blog entry and realized that I wished you a merry Christmas and happy holiday in the card I just sent you. I did so absent-mindedly, despite being aware of your beliefs. 

While I assume your post is most directly pointed at the people who more aggressively wish you a blessed birthday of Our Lord and Savior and proceed to make a big stink about it, I bet the ambient noise of countless merry Christmases still grates after a while. Sorry for contributing to that. 

On the plus side, I did include a drawing of a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat in the card. Because nothing says the holidays like dinosaurs. :)

Talk to you soon. Joe

My life freaking rules

Friday, December 16, 2011


Reminder: On 12/29 I will have a new domain name. Please email me with your location (geographical) at if you want the new address.

Christopher Hitchens died today and I was surprisingly shocked. I was saddened, of course, but I shouldn't have been shocked given his diagnosis. I feel a bit fake for how upset I am seeing as I've never read a book he's written. But I loved that man for his Vanity Fair contributions, his awesome personality, and his public voice of atheism. I did borrow God is Not Great from the library once but I had to return it before I had a chance to read it. But you only have to read a few articles of his to know that he was a brilliant man with tremendous wit and great intelligence. I never did agree with all of his beliefs but if I only liked and admired those who shared my every opinion, my life would not be as rich as it is. Hitchens was one of a kind and I'm going to miss him. I'm going to make up for lost time by starting with his autobiography and going backwards.

My atheism is something I take incredibly seriously, to the point that the general manager of my company once commented, negatively, that I'm awfully sensitive about it. But every year I have people wish me a happy holiday or merry Christmas and I find the hubris of assuming that I'm Christian revolting. Why? Because if I just randomly spouted off to my coworkers that believing in a supernatural being who gives a shit about us and made this world is ridiculous, I'd get into major trouble. I've had people sneer at me and make jokes about how I should have to work on Christmas since I have stupid beliefs. I can't do the same back without sanctions. My first year at the company I work for, I took part in all of the holiday shit because I didn't know how long I'd be there and didn't want to be that weird temp. But I've long since let people know I'm an atheist and that I don't take part. They still try to explain that the holiday party isn't about religion and act like I'm making much ado about nothing by not taking part. They do not do this to the Jehovah's Witness we work with.

I don't believe in any god, soul, afterlife, etc. These are beliefs, regardless of what you want to say. To those that say "well then how did we get here?" I say "do you answer all questions to which you don't have the answer with 'God did it'?" And I sound like the asshole. People wish me a happy holiday thinking they are covering all the bases when they really are not. Go ahead and say I'm overreacting but let's face it, it took a long time for the U.S. to get from Merry Christmas to Happy Holidays because the U.S. couldn't even account for Jewish individuals for however long.

Here is how much I don't give a shit about holidays: I was at Tilt a Kilt with a friend of mine, drinking and checking out the chicks serving us when I turned to him and said "I really wanted to say 'let's take off the Santa hats because Christmas is over.'" This was the other day and Christmas is still weeks away.

I may not agree with everything Hitchens believed, like his backing of George W. Bush or the war in Iraq, but I am grateful for his willingness to be outspoken about his atheism. I don't know how many of us are out there but we are still treated like our beliefs don't matter. But fuck us if we don't honor, tolerate, and respect the religious.

Thank you, Christopher. I will miss you.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

New address

I am going to take a new domain name shortly, in about 2 weeks. Please email if you would like to have my address. In the subject heading, please put justaregulargirl. Please leave your location as a matter of interest.


Sunday, December 11, 2011

Happy Fucking Birthday To Me

Sometimes I think my life is one long series of 'teachable moments'. I'm fairly intense and tightly wound and I try to give my all to projects I take on. That's all very good and well but, unfortunately, when I fuck up, I super fuck up like I'm trying to win some perverse contest of fuckedupness.

Remember friends A and B from my Tales of Being a Super Cunt? Well things have gotten really out of hand with friend A to the point that I'm afraid that I'll end up in some Lifetime Original Movie sort of scenario. Friend A fell in love with me a few months ago. He told me and I told him several times that I was only ever going to be a friend. He said he was perfectly fine with that on several occasions and I'm dumb as hell and slow on the uptake so I missed all the warning signs of obsession and intensity on his part. Even when other people warned me. Seriously, I'm stupid as fuck. Instead of doing the appropriate thing of distancing myself, I started hanging out with him a lot, staying at his place in an awesome basement bedroom that is completely dark at night. We had a lot of fun going to bars and dancing and just hanging out watching football. At this point, J and I had split and I really thought it was over so none of this seemed untoward.

Now here is a big, glaring, flashing, Hollywood sized warning sign that stupid over here didn't take seriously enough. Friend B works in a different office and comes to ours every so often because one of his reports is on medical leave. Friend B and I get along really well and enjoy hanging out when he is in town. We also flirt fervently and relentlessly through instant messenger and emails. He's going through a shitty thing with work right now and most days I want to throw things at my boss. The flirting and chatting through IM gets us through the day and makes work bearable on days we both want to scream. Friend A knows about this flirtatious relationship because I stupidly told him about it once a few months ago when B and I had gone out to dinner after work. A gets along with B but, and here is the warning sign, he doesn't exactly trust B. That's not even it. OK, Friend A? He had a buddy do a mother fucking background check on Friend B because, I don't know, he was convinced B was going to slip me a mickey and rape me or something.

How did this not scream out "danger, danger!" to me? Seriously? Friend B could sense that Friend A might not be the safest friend to have but I'm an idiot and I don't realize half the time that people can see me physically. Seriously, I still find myself out in public having that "who let me out of the house like this" feeling because I suddenly remember that all those other customers in the store? Yeah, they can totally see my dirty sweat pants, ill fitting sweater, and dirty hair that I've thrown up into a knotty bun. So I'm stupid and I didn't get it and so things just went on spiraling, my having a totally inappropriate relationship with Friend A without realizing just how delusional he was and how intense and obsessive his love for me had become.

When J and I decided to see if we have anything left of our marriage, it was clear that Friend A and I had to go back to just being colleagues. I'd had a lot of fun with him and he'd been a good friend and it sucked, but I would have been a heartless bitch to think that J was asking for something that was unfair or uncalled for. If the situations had been reversed, I would have made the same demand. Friend A's initial response to the news was 100% perfect. He basically said "absolutely, I totally understand, and I wish you and J the very best." But he still contacted me through instant messenger at work. Then I stupidly linked him to something when I shouldn't have (this one. I sent it because Friend A once commented about being against gay marriage). It was harmless enough but it triggered A to think he could send me emails again. He would also IM me at work with something ostensibly work-related and then start telling me random personal things related to his family or whatever.

Then it all came to a head on Friday evening when Friend A started sending me emails asking why I was so desperate to fuck Friend B. Did I love anyone at all? In a series of intimations and subtle accusations, he was trying to get me to divulge something to him. I emailed Friend B about it and he had no clue where this was coming from either. It wasn't until yesterday afternoon that it suddenly hit me. I couldn't log into my computer in the office on Friday and had to have my password reset. Friend A has access to all user names and passwords and so he logged in as me and read my emails and, possibly, instant messenger logs in which B and I had been flirting. He didn't even have to admit it to me because I knew that was it. He fucking abused his position and accessed my files and information for no reason other than jealousy that consumed him.

When I told Friend B about all of this when it first started, he kind of freaked out. He's coming to town this week and he was convinced A would have him followed. That's how out of hand things had gotten with this situation. Two autonomous, grown up individuals with no obligations to Friend A, were now scared of him. I wasn't afraid of having him divulge the flirting because I doubt anyone would care since that's all it is. Yeah, it's heavy and frequent but it's not like B has motel receipts or used condoms to worry about. Frankly, I'd be more concerned about someone telling people at work about what went down with Friend A. But I was afraid of his totally losing it and doing something insane. Fortunately for me, I have a trump card and am fairly certain I'm protected. I have knowledge about Friend A that I can send to his boss and HR and his life would be completely ruined. So I told him, fuck with me, fuck with my friends, and I will end you. I sounded like a complete bitch in my email because he'd pushed me there. The things he has done with background checks and hacking my system are unbelievably out of line and he needs to be checked before he jumps completely over the edge.

Hopefully my ability to ruin his life will provide that check. He replied that I was right and that he really hoped I wouldn't go through with it. But he's said things before that weren't true and he has issues keeping his word so we'll see. I can handle people fucking with me to a certain extent but don't bring my friends or other people into it. No one should be made to feel annoyed or uncomfortable as a side effect of my friendship. I think Friend A understands that now but all I can do is wait and see. I would honestly hate to have to contact the HR department and have his life be scrutinized and ruined. I don't really want to hurt anybody or give them a hard time. But if I have to, I will. It's called survival and taking care of me and mine.

The craziest thing? I really thought that he was my friend and I felt really bad for everything because I knew he was struggling with his feelings and I felt bad for hurting him. Now all I have is contempt, anger, and tremendous disbelief. I can't believe I was so naive and credulous, that I totally ignored the warning signs and the warnings from my friends. I'm angry and annoyed with myself but I'm absolutely livid with Friend A for violating my privacy and that of Friend B. I'm scared at his inability or his refusal to let go of me. I think I'd feel more hurt if I didn't realize so clearly now that he was never my friend, not truly. He was generous and kind to me but I think he always believed that I had deeper feelings for him that I just wasn't admitting to and that one day we'd have a different relationship. That's who he was to me, not a friend willing to accept me as I am, but one that was trying to pull A grades from a D student.

But I guess that's what life is all about, shame, regret, and moving on.

Thursday, December 8, 2011


I put makeup on for the picture. I put the face tattoo on before leaving work. I have my priorities set this year.

Happy birthday to me. It was a good day even though it wasn't super special. But it was my day and I enjoyed having people wish me "happy birthday."

31 is going to kick ass.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Peace out 30

Tomorrow is my birthday - of course you knew that already, what with my constantly mentioning that I'll be 31 on December 8. How have I spent the last day of my 30th year? In style, my friends, in style.

This morning I woke up, luxuriously, at 7:00 a.m., a full 42 minutes earlier than yesterday, thus making it to work on time. That's right, I made it to work on mother fucking time, ya'll. Once there, I learned that I would be taking part in writing a proposal for a super important contract. My role? Editing the writing of one of our Indian programmers so that it makes sense to idiots like me non-technical laymen. Basically, I'll take what he's written, turn it into prose, and verify that what I've created reflects what he's trying to say, only not in geek speak. Sexy, right? I also had a very glamorous one hour meeting with my boss to discuss how to revamp the on-boarding process for new independent contractors for my company*. That's right, I got myself a whole pile of new work for when I'm not translating geek to stupid.

When I got back to my desk, I found my mother's presents had arrived. A beautiful diamond and sapphire pendant and a navigation system for my car. Holler! I'd told my friend about my mother yesterday, about how she has given me nice things but raised me to be independent and self-reliant. These gifts sum it all up perfectly. A lovely necklace for the girly me and a navigation system so that I never have to ask for directions (she also just hates that when I get lost I get super fucking lost for 45 minutes and end up in tears).

Yeah, my last day wasn't stellar but it wasn't bad. I went for a run in the frigid cold after work and although I had trouble keeping my pants from falling down** and I had to blow my nose into my gloved hand, it was a success. Dinner tonight was brought to me by "you're fucking broke" and featured wheat tortellini filled with three cheeses, some cooked, some uncooked, no sauce. Not really that bad actually. This was followed up with a plain, old fashioned donut that I'd purchased on Sunday. Mmm. I did a bit of cleaning, a bit of reading, went to the store for some Pinot Noir (why does Fish Eye Pinot only come in the giant box?) and now I'm watching 'Family Guy' reruns and looking forward to bed.

Thirty was a crap year. It could have been a lot worse and it could have sucked less. Either way, I am not going to miss it.

*Honestly, this was actually a great meeting because my boss was on task and totally focused.

*You know what was great? Those pants were the only work out pants I had that weren't dirty and they are tea length, going to just half way down my calves so I was running in frigid weather in summer pants. And when I realized they were coming down, I tried to tie them but my iPod cord got in the way and so had to put it in my mouth whilst I tried to tie my pants up without catching my gloves in them. That's why I had to blow my nose in the glove, because I couldn't breathe through my mouth. As I told a friend, I'm surprised that a modeling agent didn't scout me there and then.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Blog Post Title

I set my alarm(s) for an hour earlier for this morning and I slept even later than yesterday, causing me to be late for work, yet again. During my drive in I thought "I need to win the lottery or become a kept woman ASAP." In reality, I just need someone to drag my ass out of bed in the morning. It might help, of course, if I could fall asleep at a decent hour. Remember that cross country, over the hills, and through the puddles run I took yesterday? Nothing! The next person to tell me that working out helps you sleep better is going to get punched because that shit is false.*

In even better news, I am officially broke. I actually have less than $200 in my bank account until next payday (which is 12/16) because my state's government doesn't take credit cards as payment for car registration renewal. If they did, I would have renewed for two years to take a break from my annual panic and dash to the DMV to renew one or two days before expiration. But this bitch could hardly afford the $54.some cents let alone $107.some cents. Come on Ohio, be cool. I mean, look how rad you are with letting me renew via internet or mail without any inspections! I mean, obviously that is beyond my ability to actually realize, getting it done without visiting your lovely hole in the wall offices, but you extend that opportunity to me. So why not take credit? Is that why Uncle Sam always dresses like a douche? He didn't have a credit card and couldn't afford some American Eagle Outfitters or Diesel jeans or whatever is popular to wear? Is American Eagle Outfitters still a thing? For the past four years I've shopped almost exclusively at Target and Kohls and I don't shop for men so I'm not at the forefront of what is hip for them**. That isn't the point; the point is that the Ohio government needs to accept my fucking Discover Card so that I don't have to panic whenever I check my bank account.

I will give OH one thing though: they do not mess around in their tag agencies. Granted, I usually have to go into one of the seedier strip malls in order to get things taken care of (seriously, there seems to always be a bar or a liquor store directly next store to the agency), but it is an in and out procedure. I think it took me all of fifteen minutes to drive to the place, complete my transaction, and get back to my office. I told my mother about it and she seemed really hung up on the fact that my registration expires on my birthday. She questioned it so much that I went out to my car to double check because I thought "well, fuck, I'm pretty stupid so maybe I've been freaking out annually for no reason." But ta-dow! it does expire on my birthday, biatch!***

Finally, these subcutaneous lumps from my subcutaneous shots? Yeah, they've over stayed their welcome. There are two hard ones (heh) on my right thigh and I'm steady pressing and rubbing on them like that will do anything (totally doesn't). What's more, I'm wearing a skirt today and I keep pulling it up to look at them and press them. It isn't that scandalous but I wouldn't call it office appropriate. And what if someone asks me what I'm doing? "Rubbing something hard and sore... it feels better than if I do it through my clothing." That doesn't sound suggestive at all does it?

Well, that was my ten minute break - back to the wonderful, magical, transcendent world of data entry for this girl.

* I also don't get a burst of energy after I work out so I'm not buying into any of that propaganda.

** Who am I kidding? I'm not on the forefront of hip for anybody and I never was. I actually asked a friend for help on the fancy man's jeans brand front and she had to call her husband because she's not exactly riding the train to cool kid town either. So they're wearing True Religion now, eh? 

*** Yes, I'm excited to find out I wasn't that stupid, as though the level of stupid that causes me to forget that I need to renew my registration by my birthday rather than Jesus's is a perfectly acceptable level of stupid.  

Monday, December 5, 2011

Lost: any semblance of intelligence. If found, please entrust to an adult

Today's challenge: be as stupid and forgetful as possible. How does one meet this challenge? Follow these easy steps:
  1. Disregard the fact that it is cold, there is a steady rain, and there are numerous, enormous puddles. Go for a run after work. 
  2. Stuff sneakers with newspaper to keep them from smelling horrendously next day and change into dry clothes. Put pig on floor, give self shot.
  3. Suddenly realize on December 5 that your car registration does not expire on December 25th; that is your car insurance, for which you've already received updated materials. Your registration expires on your birthday, December 8th, which is in three days. Shit.
  4. Suddenly remember that if you do not turn in your rent check today, you will be charged a $50 penalty. Put pig back in cage, apologizing all the while. Drive to the rental agency, remember that you also need to return library books, and root through your bag for your wallet. Remember that you went to lunch today and that you must have left your wallet in your jacket since you are unable to place your hand on it in your black hole of a bag. Turn your car back on only to remember that you did not wear a real jacket to lunch and that you must have put your wallet back into your bag. Find wallet, pay rent, drive to library to stuff books in drop box.
So that was my day. I should have known it would turn out like that since I overslept and was fifteen minutes late for work. I also had to email tech guys for an update for the sole purpose of not forgetting to do so. Do you ever do that? Follow up with people because you are jolted by the realization that you haven't done so and - oh shit, you almost forgot! - so you better do something now before you forget, again? Yep, that was how it all started.

But all in all, it was a good day with my getting a lot done and enjoying lunch with some girlfriends. And as reckless as it was to go for that run, I completed it and felt good about it afterwards. Besides, I'm supposed to exercise in order to stave off the old MS. And honestly, the fact that I can run really makes me happy. I don't know if I enjoy running at all, but I do it because I'm so please I can actually do it these days. I spent the bulk of my life thinking I just couldn't and then finally learned that I just pronate pretty badly. So now, whilst in the middle of a painful interval or whilst limping at the end, I feel a weird sense of accomplishment.

And it is, after all, my birthday week. No matter what happens, I have not only my day to look forward to, but my new year. So word up.

Sunday, December 4, 2011


I really need to clean my apartment and vacuum up the popcorn that I spilled. But I'm finding it really difficult to find the energy and will to put on pants.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Because I have to be honest with the internet

I'm sorry, but I like Justin Timberlake as a comedic actor. I know, I know. I was the first one to say, back in the "In Sync" days that he was not attractive and I never understood the idea of having a girl boner for a guy with hair that looked like tightly curled pubic hair. But he is a decent actor and he takes funny roles. The douche bag he played in "Bad Teacher"? Nice. And the Kris Kross part in "Friends with Benefits"? Yeah, I rewind that shit like I used to do my VHS tape of "Pretty in Pink" when Ducky busted into the record store and did a little dance to 'Try a Little Tenderness" (John Cryer at his best).  Come on, you have to admit he'd have been a great regular on SNL with his street advertising bits where he's dressed in a liquor bottle or as a thing of fat whilst advertizing plastic surgery.

Also: I just put "White Men Can't Jump" at the head of my Netflix queue. 

So! Do you make up conversations in your head? Of course you do, I'm not that unique. Here is my dialogue from a conversation I made up in which someone asked me to tell him about myself:

"Well, I was raised white trash by a single mother in a small town in the state of Delaware. I have two older brothers, one of which is a Born Again Christian who teaches ESL in Abu Dhabi. He's probably the best one of all my immediate family members. I really enjoy traveling and seeing new places and I've been to 9 different countries so far. Also, I'm an asshole. I'm not proud of this fact but I recognize it and thought I should let you know. John Doe here [based on a real person who is included in this day dream conversation] can vouch for me on that one. What about you? What is your 60 second spiel on who you are."

And that is my night. I'm sick again, because that is my new thing. I get sick, I stay sick for a longer period of time than necessary, I get better, I get sicker, and then I get better and feel safe only to have a low level of sickness return. I also have at least three places on my body that are red and slightly raised and  that are painful to the touch from where I've injected myself. I'm hoping they'll go away and I'll learn the best places to inject. But for now, I have various places to rub and worry with that weird "this feels kind of good" pain that you experience such as when you wiggle a loose tooth as a child.

I don't need to hear any more stories about Mr. Furly

Using my power for evil
So far I've given the gift of my super rad secret Santa questionnaire to my office mates. I am now toying with the idea of entering into the Holiday Office Decorating Contest that is being held next week. The email stated that the person who does the best/most creative job of "decorating for the holiday" will win a gift card. Nowhere was it specified which holiday we are to decorate for. Being the asshole that I am, I originally thought about just posting the word "atheist" all over my cubicle with pictures of books like The God Delusion, End of Faith, and God is Not Great. But for one thing, I don't really think I need to fuck with the entire office like that. More importantly, we will have some higher up types on site for a few days and one of them scares me just with his presence so I don't want to have my assholishness too overtly displayed.

That being said, I still have plans to dick it up a bit. If I can bring myself to get over my laziness, I'm thinking about going to a few stores and getting decorations for Valentine's Day or St. Patrick's Day or some other holiday. I would do Flag Day or Arbor Day but I have a feeling it would take a lot of work to dredge up decorations for those esoteric holidays. And if I do this, I'm going to really go all out so that there will have to be some explanations for why I don't win. And I will make a big to do if I feel I've done the best decorating and they let someone else win. Because that is what you do when you are an asshole.

Don't worry, the office is already getting back at me. We drew for our secret Santa partners yesterday and the person I got didn't do me any favors with giving me ideas for her gifts. She answered all but three questions with "no." She admitted to having a dog, liking two sports teams, and likes "all" colors. Could have been worse I suppose; I could have gotten me.

Late to the party - and it is the wrong party
I've written before about how I have a habit of missing the boat on really popular television shows, not watching or getting into "Friends", "Sex in the City", "Gray's Anatomy", "Ugly Betty", or other such shows that have been wildly successful. But I do watch television and I really enjoy it. Unfortunately, I sometimes really enjoy shows that get canceled. I finally started to watch NBC's version of "Prime Suspect" and I like everything about it; even the hat they make Maria Bello doesn't bother me the way it seems to bother television critics. And I'm pretty sure it's being canceled. I really liked "MI5" too, and I don't know if that got canceled or if they just don't show it on BBCA anymore.

But what can you do? At least I will always have "Masterpiece Mystery" unless I've just jinxed that. And I think they are even making more episodes of the modern day take on Sherlock Holmes, which I really, super, ultra like.

Today's last word in business
So much for all that productivity and having a clean home. I suddenly reverted back to my slovenly, sloth-like self. I have soda cans all over the place, a sink full of dishes, and I've done a pretty decent job of putting clothes back on the floor, nicely strewn about. I should really nip this in the bud and take care of things before it gets really bad. But sitting on the couch watching "Bad Teacher" a couple of times in a row is extremely attractive.  Sigh... I suppose I should begin working on self-discipline and responsibility. I'll be 31 in five days after all.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Meditations of a Platypuss

Don't Let the Door Hit You
If you are terminated on the spot in my company, you are walked out of the building to prevent you from destroying company property, deleting files, etc. This is an intelligent practice, especially when the person being terminated is an executive or director of some sorts. You certainly would not want that person to take company secrets and strategies to a competitor. Walking the ex employee out of the building can also help prevent dramatic scenes of screaming and chair throwing so it is a safety precaution as well. Because you are walked out immediately, you are not able to collect your belongings and they are inventoried and shipped to you at a later date.

That is one of the most heart-breaking and uncomfortable duties in the world and I've done it twice now. The first time, I boxed up the items belonging to a young woman who had gone on medical leave for a mental illness. She was let go after so many months after having been with the company for at least four years. That is a long time in a cubicle and it showed with all of the belongings she'd left behind. I'd felt bad for her situation on the whole and hated sorting through the pieces of her former work life. But I did it and got through it and moved on. Today was even more wrenching; the person who was terminated, again, a young woman, was pregnant and had had a seizure after being told the news this past Monday. Her over-all boss is, to put it bluntly, a bit dictatorial and tyrannical. Most of the office was shocked and disturbed at the loss of this individual and the tension in the office was evident to all. Inventorying her items, including a prescription for folic acid and over the counter prenatal vitamins, was, simply, god awful. I'd chatted with this person, joked with her, talked about her plans for the new baby (a boy), and just interacted with her regularly. She was a sweet girl and one who willingly helped out other team members. Never having worked with her or in her department, I don't know if she was treated unfairly or if she was competent and/or good at her job. But I do know that the over-all boss had been gunning for her for a very long time.

I boxed up another person's working life - and things had just begun to feel like they'd gotten back to normal.

Waiting for the other shoe...
Other than the above, I've had a ridiculously good week and don't know how it happened. I've been productive and busy at work and a whirlwind of getting shit done at home in the evenings. Nothing spectacular has happened (except for getting to have a new picture taken  for a company ID in which I have two temporary tattoo stars on my face) but it's been a truly wonderful and I am extremely grateful for that. But, on the other hand of course, I'm also terrified that something horrific is awaiting me so I'm in a constant state of vigilance of sorts. Because nothing can ever be good without some tragedy waiting for me.

In true to me style, my life seems to have skipped several beats and jetted to a new chapter. It seems like only yesterday that I was hanging out with one of my best friends all the time, going out to bars and having a good time. A blink of an eye ago, I thought my marriage was over and I was cavorting about with new people in a different part of town and trying to live my entire life all at once. Now I'm back in my apartment, cleaning on a daily basis and giving myself lists of things to accomplish, including such tasks as reading a certain number of pages in any given book. I no longer talk to my friend because I can't, and I no longer go out because I have no one to go out with and no where to go. That sounds sadder than I feel. I am upset, of course, that I've had to say goodbye to a friendship, but, as I do, I felt the sadness and regret incredibly intensely and then let it go. Now I sound cold and callus, as though I didn't really care or that the friendship didn't mean that much to me. That isn't the case at all, it is simply the way I cope and it is something I developed very early on in my life. Unfortunately, I think this is difficult for people to understand and so I believe I end up hurting others incidentally. This is regrettable but I'm afraid I don't think I can change it; nor do I believe I would if I could.

Sometimes I wish my office would transfer me somewhere, maybe our Irving location, so that I could move and start over, leaving everything behind. How ridiculous that must sound given that I am trying to get back together with my husband. But sometimes the one thing I crave above all others is complete and total freedom, including freedom from having to be responsible for another person's emotions. It's selfish of me, and I am a selfish person. I have my good qualities and my bad and I'm well aware of them. Sometimes I think it would be for the best if I transferred and started over, not just for me but for the people I've invited into my life and subsequently hurt. But that is the tricky part about life, isn't it? You can move on and start over but you'll more than likely repeat the same cycle, if even just a different variation of it. And it would be a form of running away, wouldn't it? Running away would never benefit me because I would always have the past clinging to me like a loose thread on a sweater that seems to never end but just keep unraveling. Running away means not resolving things, for better or for worse, and if unresolved, those things remain like open wounds.

So I'll have to come up with a different strategy, one that benefits me and those that I've invited into my life. I have no idea if I'm up to that challenge.

Let's Add Some Awesome
It's that time of year again when my office gets into the holiday spirit with cubicle decorating contests, plans for the company holiday party, and yes, Secret Santa. I usually don't take part in any of it because of my atheism and lack of any need to hang out with work colleagues, but this year I thought, meh, Secret Santa might be fun. And boy does my unsuspecting SS have his or her work cut out for her. 

Monday, November 28, 2011


I am busily and productively reclaiming myself. I've gotten my home in order, cleaned out my kitchen for pest control, put said kitchen back together, written a letter, and read a self-proscribed number of pages from my current book (A Moveable Feast, by Ernest Hemingway in preparation of The Paris Wife for book club). I so easily adapt and detach and I know I am hurting someone and that bothers me. But I must maintain my tunnel vision and laser-like focus if I am to survive these last ten days of my thirtieth year.

Because in ten day's time I will be thirty one and my life should improve if it follows its usual pattern. Odd years have always suited me better for some reason, most likely magical thinking, but for whatever reason I don't care. I am leaning steadily into the wind as I slowly make my way to thirty one, pinning my hopes on this coming year, foolishly, haphazardly, dangerously, and joyously. I know that life can get far worse but I'm certain that things will improve as soon as I am out of this awful, despicable, fat age of thirty.

I wrote a letter to a friend who lives in a new world. She finds my language vulgar and my stories, thoughts, and blogposts to be blush-worthy. She has known me for at least nine years and I have always been vulgar and candid and foul-mouthed. I've not changed but she has. I love her and accept this about her but it makes me sad that I can't be as candid and open with her as I once was. But she does not exist for my benefit and I must remember that.

I had a truly good day today, phenomenal for a Monday, especially one following a five day vacation. Granted, I was sick for much of my holiday break but still. I rebounded with energy and happiness, even in the face of events that incensed me and news that broke my heart. I had a good day and I am trying to soak it all in so that I'll remember it all. I handled myself well and was reminded of how good I have it; and how easily it may be taken away. But I did not let fear over rule me. I simply understood that I will always adapt and will always keep putting one foot in front of the other. And I was given a wonderful quote on which I will end this post:

"Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out."
~ Anton Chekov

Saturday, November 26, 2011

A Few Musings

1: Justin Timberlake brought sexy back in 2006. I think the shelf life on referring to him and the term "sexy back" was met a few years ago. Can the media please stop now?

2: I really like the song "You and I" by Lady Gaga but the blatant grammatical error irks the fuck out of me. I'm not even a grammar nazi but really? Look it up kids.

3: The cool thing about being an adult is that you only have to obey the rules of The Man, and he is not your father.

4: The shitty part about being an adult is that The Man has far worse consequences than your dad.

5: The fact that I have a sharps container creeps me out too.

6: I give to charity all year long, whether it is my time or money, and hate having the bell ringers say "god bless you" when I put a dollar in the red tin. But I'm too big a pussy to say anything. That and I don't want to give anyone trouble. Poor fucker has to stand and ring that bell in whatever weather there is.

7: I give to charity because I can and because I was on reduced lunch as a kid. I could use those reduced lunch coupons now though.

8: I never liked Brittney Spears before but now I can't even recognize her music. I'm beginning to think she went off the deep end and was not healed but just died and they trotted out a cyborg in her stead.

I've been working on this for days - this is what happens when I try

Why do people like me?
I'm beginning to think that people should not trust me enough to give me access to their Facebook pages. My BFF had a baby in March and so, naturally, she posts a lot of baby pics on her page. I'm the asshole who rarely comments unless it is to caption the pictures with phrases suggesting the baby is high or drunk. If I'm lucky, the dog is in the picture as well. I've created a running theme in my head where their fat bagel (beagle crossed with some other dog) is a drug pusher who gets the baby (we will refer to her with the name Baby) to toke up. Bagel is really on the losing side of things, however, because she is older and has been in the house longer than Baby. So mom and dad just say "bad dog" and then give Baby something soft and malleable to put in her mouth (well, they don't give it to her for that reason but everything ends up there; hey, she's not even one yet and she's smoking dope at the level of a three year old so cut her some fucking slack).

And this is my best friend we are talking about, not some random person from high school whose friend request I accepted because I was drunk. I actively like BFF and even wrote a post about her once. But, evidently, if you are my friend, nothing is sacred. I do get some credit, however. My brother posted something that I could have totally run wild with and made all sorts of inappropriate comments about. But for one thing, he was talking about having done some charity (that is not a euphemism), for two, he has a lot of religious people on his page, and finally, he's in Abu Dhabi so why mess with the kid?

In sickness and in health
Johan is getting harder to ignore these days. He isn't, however, getting any smarter. I moved his cage and haven't returned it to the right spot yet he still only rattles the cage in the one spot; the one furthest from me. He was pretty stoked about coming home from the vet though. He was very intent to get out of his carrier and jumped into his home when I had it unzipped enough. Usually I have to open the carrier the whole way and place it in his cage and wait for Sir Waddles to sniff and slowly make his way out. I guess he really missed his stuff. Makes sense in some respects. I miss my bed and my belongings when I'm gone as well but his belongings comprise a food dish, a water bottle, a plastic igloo hide, and his own shit. I think I would be less enthusiastic about returning to such splendor.

J and I are going to try and see if we can fix our marriage or save it or whatever. We met and talked and it was pretty awful, but we agreed to start seeing one another more often, to hang out, and see if we thought it could work. We have a long road ahead of us but I think it will be worth it. I can't believe I really thought it was over without putting in any effort. All I can think is that I had a mini breakdown due to the MS diagnosis and the fact that my marriage was disrupted in any way at all. Now that I'm beginning treatment, I'm beginning to be a real person again, not this out of control lunatic girl who makes reckless choices and doesn't see beyond tomorrow.

Yes, I said treatment and beginning as in "I've recently started taking medication for my disease." Who knew this day would actually come? I mean, it only took five months from the date of my diagnosis. But now here I am, with a sharps disposal box on the table and a box full of syringes in my fridge. I've injected myself without help twice and with help once, the first time (obviously) at work with the aid of one of the nurses on staff who does home health stuff. So far it has been without incident save for the first time when I got some swelling and bruising. Self injecting is even less of a hassle than I thought it would be. After I got my first ever flu shot, I thought "this will be a breeze", and it totally is and takes almost no time after I've let the drug sit out in the open for 30 minutes to warm up. All I really have to do is wait for the alcohol from the swab to dry because if you inject and you still have alcohol on your skin? That shit stings.

Speaking of the flu shot... I got my first ever fucking flu this year too, right after I finally got over a two week cold I'd developed. Needless to say, I will not be taking that shot again.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

I have a "sharps container" in my home now. I have a small, red, plastic, disposal container for used needles. That is where I am. I am doing really well. I can give myself my own injection without help. This is a good thing since it it is for the rest of my life and I'm not having side effects which means I don't need the scary Tsyabri trial.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Top Shelf

I Said No, No, No! 
Where have I been? I've been 2,500 miles away visiting my Viking. She had bilateral iliac stent surgery, trying to get blood flowing through her legs. She developed a clot that didn't break up with heparin and nitropatches so they had to do more surgery. And I was so fucked up with what has been going on in my life that I needed my momma to take care of me.

So I booked a flight and flew to the desert. I have my issues with my mother and I complain and bitch about her. But one thing I always tell people is that she is incredibly strong. I didn't really understand how strong until this trip. I saw my beloved Viking in the hospital and she looked so frail and weak. Things got bad, she couldn't stand on her own, and mom had to spend a lot of time in the hospital. Then they transferred V to a rehab facility. Mom and I went to drop off her clothing and we ended up staying for awhile because it was evident that V was sicker than we'd been told. I watched as a nurse helped V up off the bed into a wheelchair. V had a lot of trouble and was wearing a diaper. I felt traumatized seeing that happen. That's when I realized that my mother has been watching this sort of thing for years. She's been sitting in a chair listening to V bitch, hallucinate, and cry because of the pain. I don't know if you've ever watched a loved one suffer, but if you have, imagine sitting with that person for ten hours at a time. Imagine seeing that person needing help to stand just to get into a wheelchair in order to get to the bathroom only to not make it in time. It is heartbreaking and I couldn't handle it. I dealt with it for maybe two hours. My mom has been dealing with it, witnessing it, and taking care of it for years. That is strength. One of my last nights there, mom had to go back to the hospital at 11pm when the rehab facility called and told her they were transferring V to a general hospital because she was too ill. Mom went and didn't come home until 3:30 a.m. She was called by the admitting physician at 4:00 a.m. She got no real sleep and was up the next day to go back to the hospital at 8 a.m. Then she came home around noon to take me to lunch and visit with me before taking me to the airport.

That is strength. She does it on her own. I went to see my Viking and be taken care of by my mother and I ended up treating my mom to various meals and cleaning parts of her home. In the end, everyone assumed I went out to take care of her. She even felt bad when she was driving me to the airport, saying she felt bad that I did not get pampered, that I had come out for a ruined trip. She asked if I regretted it but I didn't and I don't. I'm glad I was able to be there in some small way. She had one full day with me when she was able to window shop and eat out and relax. She gets so few breaks that I feel good that I was able to provide her with one. And I admire her all the more for the strength that she has.

First Class All the Way
The best part of my trip turned out to be the flight home. My flight out was terrible. The plane was an old one, tiny, with no room whatsoever. I'm not huge, I'm probably just average for an overweight American. But I couldn't read without lifting my arms up or else I'd hit the arm rests. I was in the middle, which is always awesome, and the seat in front of me was all up in my grill, as the kids say. My overhead light didn't work and if I wanted to use my tray table, I had to remove all the god damn magazines to put it up or down. I spilled shit all over my bag and felt like I was bothering my neighbors every time I went to get something.

So I splurged for an upgrade on the way home and experienced my first ever flight in first class. It really is all that you could imagine. You get to board first and as soon as you sit down the flight attendant offers you a glass of wine (or beer, or soda, or water, or whatever cocktail you might want). They give you a real meal! Not a box with a sandwich and some grapes but a real meal. I had ravioli with a mushroom cream sauce. That's what she said when she gave me my choices. Do you know what they brought me? A pre meal savory snack back followed by my ravioli with a side salad and a plate with smoked salami, fresh mozzarella, a gouda. Then she came out with a bread basket. I had a small wine glass that she kept refilling and when I couldn't eat more, she asked if I had room for dessert, delicious cheese cake.

Oh, and that wine? From a full size wine bottle, not those little ones they sell for $7 a pop.

And soooo much leg room! I was obviously the only person there who was a first class newbie and I was totally enjoying it. I even took pictures of the leg room and my food and my wine glass. The flight attendant took my picture and people behind me asked her why. I'm sure they thought it was hilarious when she told them. It was just so fucking rad. My friend told me I could have gone to sleep (night flight and I arrived home at 1:10 a.m.) but I told her "I couldn't! I had to stay awake to enjoy every minute of it!"

I will admit to feeling a bit snobby and awful when I breezed through the security line without any real wait (though I ended up being screened) and when I was sitting there with a glass of wine as the others slowly boarded and some ended up having to gate check their bags. But I think I've been ruined for coach and will have to plan way in advance before traveling again so that I can save up. I even signed up for the dividend program with hopes of being able to send J on a first class flight one day because it was amazing.

I don't know if it was on my bucket list, I'll have to look. But everyone should fly first class at least once.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Pity Party

Husband hates me.

One of my best friends thinks I'm a piece of shit.

Still haven't started treatment for my stupid disease.

Hate my boss.

It seems like all I do anymore is apologize.

Yep, things are looking good.

I don't think I really feel anymore, like at all. Maybe that is a good thing.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


My grandmother had surgery this morning, stents placed in her leg arteries. They did the least invasive and safest surgery possible due to her age. Wasn't entirely successful and she developed a clot, but she is doing well. I asked my brother, who is living overseas, to stay there. Mom always has him give me the bad news and if he is in the Middle East, he can't call me. So my grandmother will live forever.

I realized on Saturday that I do, actually, love and want J. I want him and who we were back. I fucking love him. But I fucked up and he will probably never take me back. My bed to lay in, I know. But I love him. I miss him. I want to fight and scrape, and tooth and claw my way back to where we were when we first fell in love. And when he says "no", I'll deal with it. I'll be devastated, I'll be ruined, but I'll come back, just missing a piece of me. But I will always hope the best for him.

My life is extremely fucked up right now. I'm not going to say it can't get worse because it totally can and I don't want to invite more trouble. But yeah, I'm currently fucked.

So I'll just prep myself and take back my reigns.

Being a grown up? I always knew it was overrated.

Monday, November 7, 2011


I am still ill a full week after the beginning of my cold. Granted, I feel much better than I did last week when my eye was gushing like a faucet and my nose was a double-barreled waterfall. I'm not finding myself suddenly sweating bullets and I'm not having those really awful dreams fueled by fever. But it's still here and it is irritating the hell out of me.

Wasn't a particularly good day. I spoke to someone to indirectly find out if it would be possible for me to have a new boss to essentially find out I'm fucked. I wasn't feeling well at that time of day, my medicine having worn off a bit, and so I ended up feeling just miserable. Drowned my sorrows in some scrubbing bubbles that have left my bathroom smelling oddly of feet and attempting to clip the pig's nails. Watching the Masterpiece Contemporary taped from last night and pondering a trip to the store because I forgot to get soda or juice when I went yesterday. Or perhaps I can continue reading The Handmaid's Tale but that is just as bleak as the PBS special I have playing. Eat some of the leftover pizza in the fridge? Nah, I had some earlier and it isn't worth it. A trip to Macy's for trousers since I only seem to have two pair that are not jeans but still fit? Too much effort.

So a trip to the store it will be, and then I can come home and watch something and sink into my illness until sleep. Jesus I sound depressed! And I'm not! I think I'm just wiped out from the cold.

Lousy supposedly over-active immune system.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Pros and Cons of Working From Home When Ill

Pro: Don't have to use vacation days.

Con: Feel compelled to work extra so no one thinks I'm fucking around.

Pro: Don't have to look at all presentable; the piggy doesn't care.

Con: End up feeling sweaty and dirty and disgusting because I don't have to look presentable.

Pro: No phone calls.

Con: Paranoia because I have forgotten to check my voicemail

Pro: No interruptions whilst in the middle of things.

Con: No one to talk to when in need of a distraction.

Seriously, working from home is really great when I'm ill because it means I don't have to use my precious, precious vacation time (which is almost out, actually). But it is lonely and all I do is work, work, work. I end up feeling like a robot, a sweaty, dirty, gross robot.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Open Letter to Kim Kardashian

Dear Kim,

Thank you for the lavish display of wealth you gave us with your seventy some day marriage to stay relevant. It is important during these times of economic turmoil, to remember what the 1% suffer by not having to be taxed like everyone else.


The other 99%

Things I've Accomplished Today

1: Did a load of laundry (well, this is ongoing but I'm doing it).

2: Made a pot of coffee.

3: Earned $118 rent credit (OK, this is just because of ongoing hot water issues but I did send an email)

4: Sorted dirty clothes from clean ones and separated for purposes of doing laundry (this is totally different from the actual laundry that I have in the dryer right now).

5: Wrote a blog post that included really bad pictures (this is important because those bad pictures took awhile).

6: Wrote in my diary.

7: Went through the shit in my purse.

8: Did some math. 

See? I'm sick and I'm on a vacation day but I still did a few things. I should probably sort my shoes or do some dishes but I'm playing the sick card.

Well that was easy

So far, we are friends again. Friend A picked me up last night so that we could talk and we worked it out; well, sort of. When we got to A's place I just said "look, how about we put this behind us and just make it a priority to not be assholes to one another." And A agreed. We are now both on board with aiming for the very low goal of not being dicks to one another. Goal two is not being dicks to other people. Goal three should really be to come up with better goals, act right, or just behave like normal people. But having two goals to meet should be fine. After all, the last time I set myself up with things to accomplish I failed epically at both (though I think I'm swearing less at the office).

In other news, here are some sounds my office makes:

And that is all I have because I'm working from my Mac and I haven't used the paint program in awhile. That is why these drawings are even shittier than usual.