FDA, finally, approves cloned food. Check out this one people. How nice of the FDA to join us here in the 21st century on something.
It's the end of 2006, thank god, and it's time to reflect upon all of the ludicrous things that I have seen and done this year. One main story comes to mind for the moment.
This tale is one about a fine sunny day in the Spring. I pulled up to my favorite coffee shop with an ice cream cone in hand and ready to pick up a paper as soon as I could find a parking spot. After a few crafty maneuvers at an adjacent parking lot, I pulled forward to take my position in the exit. A woman walking down the sidewalk stopped about 20 feet back from the driveway. An action I understood to mean she wanted me to go ahead, which I did. I proceeded to pull up to the same side of the street the woman had been walking (a one way street if you're trying to picture it). Since it was an unusually warm day, my passenger side window was down. While I fiddled around looking for change to feed the meter, the woman walking down the sidewalk stuck her head into my car through the passenger side window and just started screaming at me.
I just sat there in shock while she bobbed her head like a chicken inside my car, complete with all of the good descriptive expletives. Then she continued to walk down the street as if nothing had occured. Because I have absolutely zero self control, I jumped out of my car and ran after her. She had gained some ground by the time I was running in her direction. But, once the light turned green, I caught up with her on foot. Oh, I should mention that I was screaming at her all the while, "Come back here! What did you say to me, bitch?!!!?" Yup, screaming this at the top of my lungs in the middle of the street, in front of my favorite coffee shop. Lovely. I'm gonna make a great role model for my child.
Lunacy at its best.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Meming me.
The Six Weird Things Meme
So these are Six Weird Things about Me (Husband's comment on my request to help me think of six weird things about me: "Only six huh?...Well, I'm not taking that bait." Smart man.) :- I hate it when my toes are squished together. HATE IT! If my feet are in close toed shoes that are a bit tight, I spend an inordinate amount of time spreading my toes out as far and flat as they will go.
- I simply can't eat an animal that I saw, recently, in its house. Thus, if I eat shrimp, my husband must do the peeling off of their houses, alone, I can't even peek or else I won't be able to eat them. Lobsters are only acceptable if they come evicted, therefore I can only eat lobster tail. No clams, oysters, snails. Eeew.
- I feel guilty when a store or restaurant goes out of business. Yes, I am self centered enough to think it is all my fault. If only I had gone in there to shop or eat, then they wouldn't have had to close up shop. It's not that I think that they were waiting for me, but I still think I could have done more to help.
- I want to tell everyone, everything, all of the time. But it, uh, kind of puts people off, including Husband sometimes. Poor guy. He puts up with a lot.
- I like to garden, but not with plants. I prefer rocks. All types of rocks. I just stack them up, build walls, lots of walls. Good times.
- I like to say "I" when I write my blog. Fun. In all of the other writing I have to do I can't say I. So I take great liberties when it comes to my blog ramblings and the use of the word "I". More good times. Oh, and using the word "you" is an additional good time.
Tag your it, Veronika, Barbara, Sara, TheTwoWeekWait, Mary Taitt, Dino aka Katy.
Aurelia tagged me first, so you know who to blame ultimately.
By the way, here are the rules...
RULES: Each player of this game starts with the weird things about them. People who get tagged need to write on their blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you have tagged them in their comments and tell them to read your blog.
For those I didn't tag, feel free to comment with at least one weird thing. Don't make me be weird alone...
Friday, December 29, 2006
Listless List Day
The movies one loves say a lot about a person. Especially intriguing are the loves from a particular year. So to celebrate the near termination of 2006, finally, I list here the top 10 TV/Movie DVD Series I enjoyed or discovered this year. We are a bit unusual in that we don't have cable anymore as I had it shut off. Thus, to get our TV fix we went with Netflix, and hence, watch a lot of DVD's. So much for trying to encourage less TV time and more book time. I guess I should have invested in a magazine subscription if I had really been dedicated to the idea. As a result of our choice we are behind in current popular movies and TV shows. It's actually kind of nice to choose without influence from the TV itself. The list is then a bit untimely and out of the totally normal. Just the way I like it.
By writing the list out, I come out just a little bit further. OK, so revealing movie loves isn't quite as exposing as actually revealing an alternative sexual orientation, but I feel outted nevertheless. Be afraid, be very afraid...
At this point they are still in no particular order, so until further notice...
By writing the list out, I come out just a little bit further. OK, so revealing movie loves isn't quite as exposing as actually revealing an alternative sexual orientation, but I feel outted nevertheless. Be afraid, be very afraid...
At this point they are still in no particular order, so until further notice...
- Little Britain
- Wire in the Blood
- Prime Suspect
- Sherlock Holmes, all of them
- Rumpole of the Bailey
- Grounded for Life
- Penn and Teller: Bullshit
- Good Neighbors
- Cracker
- Absolutely Fabulous
And then a miracle occurred
Last night was very rough indeed. The sandman was apparently having an affair with someone else because I didn't catch a single wink last night. I finally fell asleep on the couch after dawn and after a double dose of Seroquel. Didn't wake up until after 1pm today. Groggy, but finally rested.
A few minutes ago, I was surfing my life away and then a miracle occurred. Husband stands up and says to me in a sincere tone, "Have fun blogging, bloghead." So I ask where he's off to and he replies, "I'm going to clean the kitchen." Long pause now for the breath of air I am trying to catch as he walks toward the kitchen. I am all a flutter. Goosebumps as well.
Happiness is a clean kitchen in the land of Crazyville. He's going to be able to milk this good deed for awhile and I really don't mind. Crazyville is on the red level of the terrorist alert scheme when the kitchen has been taken over by other kingdoms, families, and genus. Yuck. When feeling heinously hypomanic-- which is my least favorite section of Crazyville and where I currently hang out--I am in a state of heightened alert, a montage thought pattern bombarding me with organized mayhem. I become an impatient toddler with obsessive tendencies. The carpet really NEEDS to be vacuumed so that all of the vacuum lines in the rug are parallel and the individual fibers all tilt the same direction to make it look the same tint. The knick knacks, scattered across tables and other surfaces, always NEED to be rearranged. And yes, it all has to be done right now. "NOW!" I tell you. This is a really bad part of town.
But, I seem to be able to focus on at least one thing for any duration. I blog and blog and blog til my head transforms into a more amicable pattern. It really works. And so I am left alone to blog while Husband cleans the kitchen. Awesome.
A few minutes ago, I was surfing my life away and then a miracle occurred. Husband stands up and says to me in a sincere tone, "Have fun blogging, bloghead." So I ask where he's off to and he replies, "I'm going to clean the kitchen." Long pause now for the breath of air I am trying to catch as he walks toward the kitchen. I am all a flutter. Goosebumps as well.
Happiness is a clean kitchen in the land of Crazyville. He's going to be able to milk this good deed for awhile and I really don't mind. Crazyville is on the red level of the terrorist alert scheme when the kitchen has been taken over by other kingdoms, families, and genus. Yuck. When feeling heinously hypomanic-- which is my least favorite section of Crazyville and where I currently hang out--I am in a state of heightened alert, a montage thought pattern bombarding me with organized mayhem. I become an impatient toddler with obsessive tendencies. The carpet really NEEDS to be vacuumed so that all of the vacuum lines in the rug are parallel and the individual fibers all tilt the same direction to make it look the same tint. The knick knacks, scattered across tables and other surfaces, always NEED to be rearranged. And yes, it all has to be done right now. "NOW!" I tell you. This is a really bad part of town.
But, I seem to be able to focus on at least one thing for any duration. I blog and blog and blog til my head transforms into a more amicable pattern. It really works. And so I am left alone to blog while Husband cleans the kitchen. Awesome.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Gifts that keep on giving
After going over Tertia's blog, I couldn't resist addressing her same topic. She asks her bloggers what their worst and best gift has been over the years. Love that she limits it to material things and takes the words right out of sappy people's mouths by outlawing cheesy responses like the baby growing in my belly reply. Yuck. I want materialism here. So I thought I would share some of the best and worst, but mostly the worst, from my gift getting history.
Worst all time gift for me has to be one from my first husband. We'll just call him ass to keep it short and to the point. Ass had a cat that was carving up all of my somewhat decent furniture. Thus, in his ultimate wisdom and thoughtfulness, Ass gave me a cat scratching tower for Christmas. Wrapped it up and everything. Lovely.
Second worst gift wasn't so bad, if I had given it to Ass for Christmas. During the same year as the scratching post, Ass gave me the CD box set of the Rolling Stones. I don't particularly care for the Stones, but he did. In fact, apparently, he loved them more than he loved me.
Another great gift from Ass said a lot about what he thought of me. A full length, full skirt made of black velour. Wore it once and everyone asked me if I was preparing early for Halloween. Perfect.
Towards the end of the marriage, it got even better. Instead of buying me CD's, he just burned some for me. Normally, I would appreciate the effort, no matter how illegal. Unfortunately, the source of music was questionable. Turns out the burned music came from his girlfriend's CD collection, some of the CD's were ones he bought for her. Well, at least he fucked women with similar tastes in music. I admire consistency and efficiency.
Best gift this year was my little shuffler iPod. This is definitely something I would never have bought myself which made it all the more special. It was a total surprise from Husband and he was proud as a peacock when I opened it. It comes with a lanyard so I can use it while I am working off the comments on my treadmill. So leave a comment damnit! I have hours of podcasts from NPR to listen to and need some comment motivation. Also, feel free to leave your best or worst gift in your comment. Love reading that stuff, especially the bad gifts. By the way, I am pretty sure Husband would put on his bad gift list the nose hair trimmer I put in his stocking this year. Well, it made me laugh, that's what's important.
By the way, Veronika, if you are reading this, I hope you get a good chuckle, it's the only thing I know that helps.
Worst all time gift for me has to be one from my first husband. We'll just call him ass to keep it short and to the point. Ass had a cat that was carving up all of my somewhat decent furniture. Thus, in his ultimate wisdom and thoughtfulness, Ass gave me a cat scratching tower for Christmas. Wrapped it up and everything. Lovely.
Second worst gift wasn't so bad, if I had given it to Ass for Christmas. During the same year as the scratching post, Ass gave me the CD box set of the Rolling Stones. I don't particularly care for the Stones, but he did. In fact, apparently, he loved them more than he loved me.
Another great gift from Ass said a lot about what he thought of me. A full length, full skirt made of black velour. Wore it once and everyone asked me if I was preparing early for Halloween. Perfect.
Towards the end of the marriage, it got even better. Instead of buying me CD's, he just burned some for me. Normally, I would appreciate the effort, no matter how illegal. Unfortunately, the source of music was questionable. Turns out the burned music came from his girlfriend's CD collection, some of the CD's were ones he bought for her. Well, at least he fucked women with similar tastes in music. I admire consistency and efficiency.
Best gift this year was my little shuffler iPod. This is definitely something I would never have bought myself which made it all the more special. It was a total surprise from Husband and he was proud as a peacock when I opened it. It comes with a lanyard so I can use it while I am working off the comments on my treadmill. So leave a comment damnit! I have hours of podcasts from NPR to listen to and need some comment motivation. Also, feel free to leave your best or worst gift in your comment. Love reading that stuff, especially the bad gifts. By the way, I am pretty sure Husband would put on his bad gift list the nose hair trimmer I put in his stocking this year. Well, it made me laugh, that's what's important.
By the way, Veronika, if you are reading this, I hope you get a good chuckle, it's the only thing I know that helps.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Ahhhh, vacation
I am finally settling into vacation mode. It's a vacation without any money, but it doesn't cost me much to lay on the couch in my reindeer pajamas and blog in between naps. Good times. Husband is playing with his playstation while I nurse my headache. Headaches are guaranteed when I drink a glass a red wine too close to bed time. Oh well, it was worth it.
My new meds are wreaking havoc on my body. The reduction in Effexor with the addition of Zoloft has been a true assault on normalcy, not that I had a lot of normalcy left these days. The change in meds reminds me of the time when the doctors and I were desperately exploring all of the different mood regulating chemicals out there in an attempt to reduce the amplitude of my mood's sinus wave. During that time, I would nap in my car in the middle of the day, just to make it through. All of the med changes simply wiped me out and reduced me to a groggy fragment of myself. It's not nearly as bad this time around, but I am definitely spending extra time on the couch with the sandman. Hence, the two hour Christmas Day nap.
I made it through my weekend with the in-laws. My new approach of zero expectations works well. OK, I do have one expectation...I expect them to irritate me beyond control. Expectation achieved! My mother-in-law is aware of my bipolar disorder. I really don't know what possessed me to tell her, but I did. Ever since then, all of the gifts I get from her involve padding around in my pajamas. For Christmas I got four sets of pajamas, just from her. Apparently, mental illness for her involves a lot of well matched pajamas. Oh, and they come with color coordinated slippers. Message received... When you are crazy, don't leave the house, don't get dressed, don't get out of bed. No problem, that I can do.
Her second offense was equally subtle. This requires some background knowledge. For husband's birthday, his sister bought him the 6th season Simpson's DVD set. Husband and his sister have a thing going about the Simpson's that I think is cute. Whatever it takes to connect sounds good to me. Unfortunately, the Simpson's 6th season is in a different package than the rest of the other seasons that we own. Luckily, other fans must be as anal retentive as I am, because inside the box they give you instructions on how to send away for the normal non-Homer head box as a replacement. Yes, I am sick and thus I really need my DVD boxes to match. So, husband, not realizing that I didn't want to reveal ALL of my crazy tendencies to the in-laws, made the mistake of telling his mom about the replacement offer and how his crazy wife needs the boxes to be the same. Now it's important to note that the later seasons are offered in either the weird plastic box that drives me nuts or the normal version, unlike the 6th season which was only offered as one version, the weird unmatching one. For Christmas, husband received the 9th season from his mother and I will give you one guess as to which version she gifted to him. Yep, the fucking plastic Lisa head case. Since I was in the Christmas spirit, I figured I would give her the benefit of the doubt and said, "Oh, you couldn't find the other version, huh?" Her reply with a cackle, "Oh no, the other one was there, but I thought this one would be more funny because I knew it would bug you." Yes, she even admitted it, right to my face. Ugh. I will revenge this one, but it has to be equally subtle. The war is on now.
Christmas day was peaceful and restful, just what I needed. We enjoyed a made ahead breakfast casserole, yum. Then binged on pistachios, goldfish crackers, and a shameless Asiago dip. Good stuff. Dinner was cocktail shrimp followed by a dessert of homemade chocolate truffles. We didn't eat the special one though. The one that husband insisted I make. Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo. We are so proud of it that it is pictured here. Why have kids for your Christmas pictures when you can have a truffle shaped like a poo?
My new meds are wreaking havoc on my body. The reduction in Effexor with the addition of Zoloft has been a true assault on normalcy, not that I had a lot of normalcy left these days. The change in meds reminds me of the time when the doctors and I were desperately exploring all of the different mood regulating chemicals out there in an attempt to reduce the amplitude of my mood's sinus wave. During that time, I would nap in my car in the middle of the day, just to make it through. All of the med changes simply wiped me out and reduced me to a groggy fragment of myself. It's not nearly as bad this time around, but I am definitely spending extra time on the couch with the sandman. Hence, the two hour Christmas Day nap.
I made it through my weekend with the in-laws. My new approach of zero expectations works well. OK, I do have one expectation...I expect them to irritate me beyond control. Expectation achieved! My mother-in-law is aware of my bipolar disorder. I really don't know what possessed me to tell her, but I did. Ever since then, all of the gifts I get from her involve padding around in my pajamas. For Christmas I got four sets of pajamas, just from her. Apparently, mental illness for her involves a lot of well matched pajamas. Oh, and they come with color coordinated slippers. Message received... When you are crazy, don't leave the house, don't get dressed, don't get out of bed. No problem, that I can do.
Her second offense was equally subtle. This requires some background knowledge. For husband's birthday, his sister bought him the 6th season Simpson's DVD set. Husband and his sister have a thing going about the Simpson's that I think is cute. Whatever it takes to connect sounds good to me. Unfortunately, the Simpson's 6th season is in a different package than the rest of the other seasons that we own. Luckily, other fans must be as anal retentive as I am, because inside the box they give you instructions on how to send away for the normal non-Homer head box as a replacement. Yes, I am sick and thus I really need my DVD boxes to match. So, husband, not realizing that I didn't want to reveal ALL of my crazy tendencies to the in-laws, made the mistake of telling his mom about the replacement offer and how his crazy wife needs the boxes to be the same. Now it's important to note that the later seasons are offered in either the weird plastic box that drives me nuts or the normal version, unlike the 6th season which was only offered as one version, the weird unmatching one. For Christmas, husband received the 9th season from his mother and I will give you one guess as to which version she gifted to him. Yep, the fucking plastic Lisa head case. Since I was in the Christmas spirit, I figured I would give her the benefit of the doubt and said, "Oh, you couldn't find the other version, huh?" Her reply with a cackle, "Oh no, the other one was there, but I thought this one would be more funny because I knew it would bug you." Yes, she even admitted it, right to my face. Ugh. I will revenge this one, but it has to be equally subtle. The war is on now.
Christmas day was peaceful and restful, just what I needed. We enjoyed a made ahead breakfast casserole, yum. Then binged on pistachios, goldfish crackers, and a shameless Asiago dip. Good stuff. Dinner was cocktail shrimp followed by a dessert of homemade chocolate truffles. We didn't eat the special one though. The one that husband insisted I make. Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo. We are so proud of it that it is pictured here. Why have kids for your Christmas pictures when you can have a truffle shaped like a poo?
Sunday, December 24, 2006
I will survive
Feelin' fine. Thanks for checking in. Got over a rough hump and now I am enjoying the peacefulness of the holiday...finally. I'll be back, better than ever. For the moment though I am resting. Thank you to all who wrote in. Makes me know I am loved. And, oh my, do I need love. More good stuff to come.
Friday, December 22, 2006
I'm sorry
I am so profoundly sad today that it is difficult to see how to make it through the next hour, the next minute, the next sentence. So I will just keep typing and hope that something I write makes a little bit of sense. First of all, I am so so sorry. Sorry that you are reading this and perhaps hoping for something funny. I don't have funny. All I have is sad.
I didn't sleep much, if at all, last night. I keep having flashbacks of the life I have made for myself and how it has all gone so horribly wrong. I won't even bother to list all of the things that I am hating myself for right now. The best thing I can think of to describe bipolar disorder at this moment is a description I once read about it somewhere. Here it is...Bipolar illness is anger gone awry. When I am manic, the extreme anger faces outward and is expressed as hatred for everyone and everything. That was yesterday. When I am depressed, the intense anger faces inward. I hate myself, anything and everything I have ever done. That is today.
I have thought a lot about why it is that I think others want to see me fail and enjoy it even. Despite my husbands logical and reasonable assessment that if they want to see me fail, that's their problem not mine. It's especially self centered to think that everyone wants to see me fail, I know this, but that doesn't help me. In fact, it's just one more reason to loathe myself.
I have received so many Christmas letters from friends from college. While I am aware that these letters are a bit slanted and don't reveal everything that's going on, I am also aware that there must be some truth to their words. These letters tell tales of new homes, recently purchased property, new babies, new jobs, and loving families. It's becoming more and more difficult to fight off the idea that their happiness doesn't take anything away from me. Unfortunately, I do end up thinking of what I am missing, what I have fucked up along the way, and what a terrible terrible person I am for thinking of any of it. Not to mention what a terrible, ungrateful person I am in general.
I tried everything to escape my head this morning. The treadmill, writing my own Christmas letter (except it sounded more like my last post), meditation, yoga, sleep. It was all a tremendous failure. I cannot help but wonder if the new med I have added to my psych-salad is making things worse. In the past Zoloft hasn't created problems, but that doesn't really mean anything.
OK, that's enough puling. I can't stand to read this or write this anymore. I make myself sick.
I didn't sleep much, if at all, last night. I keep having flashbacks of the life I have made for myself and how it has all gone so horribly wrong. I won't even bother to list all of the things that I am hating myself for right now. The best thing I can think of to describe bipolar disorder at this moment is a description I once read about it somewhere. Here it is...Bipolar illness is anger gone awry. When I am manic, the extreme anger faces outward and is expressed as hatred for everyone and everything. That was yesterday. When I am depressed, the intense anger faces inward. I hate myself, anything and everything I have ever done. That is today.
I have thought a lot about why it is that I think others want to see me fail and enjoy it even. Despite my husbands logical and reasonable assessment that if they want to see me fail, that's their problem not mine. It's especially self centered to think that everyone wants to see me fail, I know this, but that doesn't help me. In fact, it's just one more reason to loathe myself.
I have received so many Christmas letters from friends from college. While I am aware that these letters are a bit slanted and don't reveal everything that's going on, I am also aware that there must be some truth to their words. These letters tell tales of new homes, recently purchased property, new babies, new jobs, and loving families. It's becoming more and more difficult to fight off the idea that their happiness doesn't take anything away from me. Unfortunately, I do end up thinking of what I am missing, what I have fucked up along the way, and what a terrible terrible person I am for thinking of any of it. Not to mention what a terrible, ungrateful person I am in general.
I tried everything to escape my head this morning. The treadmill, writing my own Christmas letter (except it sounded more like my last post), meditation, yoga, sleep. It was all a tremendous failure. I cannot help but wonder if the new med I have added to my psych-salad is making things worse. In the past Zoloft hasn't created problems, but that doesn't really mean anything.
OK, that's enough puling. I can't stand to read this or write this anymore. I make myself sick.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
All THOSE people want for Christmas
Had a long discussion with my therapist today about how to talk about my lack of job offers when the in-laws ask about it this weekend. I have been avoiding them and anyone else who would potentially ask about my rather pathetic job situation. The thing is that if you have to ask then I haven't already told you about it. If I haven't already discussed it with you, then I don't want to or intend on discussing it with you. With the exception of a few people, I haven't talked to most of my so-called friends and family about it for a very good reason. THOSE people are the ones who get off on my misery and this includes the in-laws. I seem to have a lot of THOSE people in my life actually. In fact, I think that's all they want for Christmas this year is to hear about unfortunate events in my life. So because I am feeling a need to give, I think I will let them have what they want, my misery. It's a great year from THOSE people, Santa was generous this year. Here's a few fun time misery gifts the in-laws will get in their stocking on Christmas Eve...
1. Nope, no job offers. I am 0 for 6. Wow,school has a been great investment for me so far. So if you were angry that I got into the school of my choice, then revel in my $80,000 school loan load combined with no job.
2. Not enough for you? How about the fact that my dog died this year.
3. Still feeling deprived? My grandfather died too.
4. Back for more? Good thing I am well stocked... Not pregnant yet and bleeding in between periods. Sorry no confirmed diseases or cancers yet, but wait a month or two and I will see what I can do; my doctor couldn't get me in until mid-January.
5. Don't walk away yet, there's more... My bank account is $600 in the hole right now and counting.
6. Even our appliances hate me... Our microwave finally crapped out on us after repeatedly beeping at random intervals and then flashing the number 6:66 over and over again. I kid you not.
7. The new microwave we purchased blew up after one whole week.
8. No, we didn't purchase the extended warranty and no it cannot be fixed.
9. I have long curly black hairs growing out of my chin and out of the mole of my face! ON MY FACE DAMNIT!!!
10. And for the grande finale... the JRT ate all but one pair of my underwear. Why did she spare a single pair? Because I was still wearing them.
I could go on but I really don't want to spoil you. Let's leave some for your birthday. Merry Christmas!
1. Nope, no job offers. I am 0 for 6. Wow,school has a been great investment for me so far. So if you were angry that I got into the school of my choice, then revel in my $80,000 school loan load combined with no job.
2. Not enough for you? How about the fact that my dog died this year.
3. Still feeling deprived? My grandfather died too.
4. Back for more? Good thing I am well stocked... Not pregnant yet and bleeding in between periods. Sorry no confirmed diseases or cancers yet, but wait a month or two and I will see what I can do; my doctor couldn't get me in until mid-January.
5. Don't walk away yet, there's more... My bank account is $600 in the hole right now and counting.
6. Even our appliances hate me... Our microwave finally crapped out on us after repeatedly beeping at random intervals and then flashing the number 6:66 over and over again. I kid you not.
7. The new microwave we purchased blew up after one whole week.
8. No, we didn't purchase the extended warranty and no it cannot be fixed.
9. I have long curly black hairs growing out of my chin and out of the mole of my face! ON MY FACE DAMNIT!!!
10. And for the grande finale... the JRT ate all but one pair of my underwear. Why did she spare a single pair? Because I was still wearing them.
I could go on but I really don't want to spoil you. Let's leave some for your birthday. Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wow, the fun never stops
I should warn you all now, there is nothing funny in this new post. I am plumb out of funny today. Finals are finally over and I am in the come down period. But that's not the only period I am enjoying today. Looks like I will be enjoying another month in Crazyville. I should just register to vote here, since it's possible I am going to become a permanent resident. I wonder what the license plates look like in Crazyville.
Youngest sister, age 19, just sent me a jpeg of her most recent sonogram of her little bean sized fetus. I really wish I could be happy for her, but so far that's just not happening. The arrival of the red tide, put a damper on happiness. At least I didn't have to aim at a precious stick; I think I'll celebrate and spend the money I would have saved by buying a good bottle of Zinfandel. I need something to look forward to after all. Scratch that, I need something that will last at least a week. Let's go all out and buy that Laguvulin scotch that I have been drooling over for the last year. Damn my neighborhood liquor store for stocking the good stuff, but I do love the damned.
I am spending the day cleaning our sty today. We are such gross people. Usually, the bare minimum I ask for in terms of tidiness is a fire lane from the couch to the front door. Apparently, even that's too much to ask for. Our household spiders are the only ones who seem to be keeping their areas clean. Too bad I sucked down their homes into our shop-vac this morning. It's cleaner in there anyway. To those of you who stay at home to keep house and take care of children or pets or whatever the hell it is you take care of, I salute you. Every moment I clean, I am just a little bit angrier and little more bitter. Poor husband doesn't even realize what he is walking into tonight when he comes through the door after work. If I warned him, that would take all the fun out of my day, and that wouldn't do at all. Wish him luck.
Youngest sister, age 19, just sent me a jpeg of her most recent sonogram of her little bean sized fetus. I really wish I could be happy for her, but so far that's just not happening. The arrival of the red tide, put a damper on happiness. At least I didn't have to aim at a precious stick; I think I'll celebrate and spend the money I would have saved by buying a good bottle of Zinfandel. I need something to look forward to after all. Scratch that, I need something that will last at least a week. Let's go all out and buy that Laguvulin scotch that I have been drooling over for the last year. Damn my neighborhood liquor store for stocking the good stuff, but I do love the damned.
I am spending the day cleaning our sty today. We are such gross people. Usually, the bare minimum I ask for in terms of tidiness is a fire lane from the couch to the front door. Apparently, even that's too much to ask for. Our household spiders are the only ones who seem to be keeping their areas clean. Too bad I sucked down their homes into our shop-vac this morning. It's cleaner in there anyway. To those of you who stay at home to keep house and take care of children or pets or whatever the hell it is you take care of, I salute you. Every moment I clean, I am just a little bit angrier and little more bitter. Poor husband doesn't even realize what he is walking into tonight when he comes through the door after work. If I warned him, that would take all the fun out of my day, and that wouldn't do at all. Wish him luck.
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