If you're bored - click here. I do.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Zombie Stuff Tribute

I love Zombies. I have this weird fascination with all things Zombie. So, because it's soon Halloween and an appropriate time for it, I thought I'd list my fave Zombie Stuff.

Why Zombies? I don't know. I have this fascination with the world ending and everyone having to survive. I mean, what would it be like to have to grab a bag and run? Travelling from place to place, finding the other survivors. I guess I'm more of a survivalist enthusiast more then anything, but I still like my Zombies.

So, Zombie things I like -

Zombie Book:

Eh, some people like Max Brooks. He wrote the Zombie Survival Guide, and World War Z. it's more of a diary style type writing, and I'm not a huge fan of that. I was in Barnes &Noble and found a highly amusing zombie book, written by Jesse Petersen. Totally awesome, I loved it. it's hard to find a good zombie book. They're all usually depressing, or over written. This was neither. Witty, funny, awesome story. Which I hear is going to be a series. Woot!

Zombie Comic:

This thing gets it's own spot because, technically - it's not a book. It's a comic. I'm not a huge fan of the Marvel Zombies. I don't don't like to think of Wolverine as a zombie. Especially since I named my son after Wolverine, so maybe there's some negative connotations there. Anyway, I've read the black and white graphic novel versions, up to number 12. They're awesome. The perfect depiction of life after Zombies. I love that it's a series, so I can follow these people. Personally, I hope they don't get to reconstructed and fortified, because I love me a good zombie scare and chase. Which brings me to my next selection,

Zombie TV:

All I have to say is, it's about time they put Zombies on TV. I mean, it's nice to have a movie about them - how it happened, the outbreak, the survivors, the rescue. But what happens after the rescue? How do they continue to survive? I want to know -- and hopefully this series lives up to it's expectations and delivers a solid continuing zombie storyline. Unfortunately, I no longer have cable, so I can't make this a big Halloween Night Event, like me and my family wanted. I am very upset about that, but I'm broke. So - here's to hoping they post it online. I'm sure I can find crappy copies on you tube for a few days if I absolutely have to.

Zombie Game:

This one was hard, but I've managed to pick one. I like the Dead Rising series, absolutely love the Left 4 Dead games - but if I have to pick one, I'm picking the original Resident Evil. There was nothing so freaky (back in the day...) than opening the doors in the mansion not know what was behind it. I was truly disappointed that the first Resident Evil movie wasn't IN the mansion. I loved that game. It was creepy - anyone remember that loooong creepy hallway with all the pictures on the walls, and dead leaves on the ground? That was back in the day when games were about gaming, not graphics.

Zombie Movie:

Again, a hard choice. But when it comes right down to it, I seem to gravitate more towards the modern zombie. An escape is an escape only if something is chasing you. It's hard to be scared of slow zombies groaning "blargh" while you skip and dodge around them. Maybe it's just my generation. Anyway, I absolutely adore 28 Days Later. What a movie. The waking up alone, walking the deserted streets of London in hospital scrubs...epic. I love the whole plot, the story, the degeneration of humanity...love it all. Hmm...possibly a good Halloween substitute, since I have no cable......

I have to throw in a second favorite, only because I've seen it at least 5 times since it came out. Me and my husband watch it all the time. Zombieland. This movie fits more in the zom-rom-com genre than anything else, but it still gets my 2 thumbs up. Or more. I mean. Bill Murray, zombie rules, Woody Harrelson with guns, zombie kill of the week? Come on! Fantastic stuff!!! It even trumped Shaun of The Dead - if only by the slightest margin.

So, there you have it. My favorite Zombie things. For some fun, I'm leaving this most hilarious little video for you to watch. Enjoy!

Monday, October 18, 2010

The Never Ending Week


That sums up my week. Things have been so crazy insane, it's....well, insane.

Things started a few weeks ago, my brother had some pain. He has loads of kidney stones just waiting to be popped out, so we knew what the problem was. We still went to the emergency room for some pain medication for him. It took him the whole weekend, - and then some - to pass it. Not fun.

Things were ok that week. Until last Sunday. The whole family went to the pumpkin farm, a yearly tradition. Had a great day, went thru the corn maze, had a hayride, bought some candy apples. We went home and I took a small big nap. So, as soon as I think I'm going to have a nice relaxing night - my sister Lissa calls, she's in a lot of pain and needs to go to the ER.

Since it was late, and we knew we'd be there a long time, her husband stayed home with the kids, and I went with her. Sure enough, about 6 hours later we found out she had some ovarian cysts. We went home, and I passed out at about 5am. Since I had to watch me niece, Rosie, that Monday - my hubby promised to get my son on the bus at 8am so I could get some sleep. At 9:30 - he wakes me up and tells my my sister, Britta is here. I was a little surprised, because she wasn't supposed to be there until 10:30. She tells me she's having pain and she needs to go to the ER. So....off we go, and my hubby watched my niece.

And, once again - 6 hours later, we find out that this sister, too - has ovarian cysts. Pain meds, get rest, blah, blah, blah, and we go home. I take another nap and try and relax.

And then I wake up Tuesday morning with a migraine. Not a little one, a nice big 'you must stay in bad all day with an ice pack on your head' kind of migraine. Not fun. So - that was Tuesday.

Wednesday night, my sister, Lissa, calls me again and says she's having breathing problems and stomach problems. She ends up calling 911 and they take her by ambulance to the ER. Guess who follows? C'mon, one guess? Ok, it was me. We're there another 7 hours before they decide nothing is wrong with her, except maybe some indigestion problems. Maalox, Pepto Bismol, get some rest, blah, blah, blah, and we go home.

Thursday - I settle down, looking forward to an evening of World of Warcraft, and some snacks. Nope, not to be. My sister Lissa calls me, tells me my mom has a really big migraine and needs to go to the ER. So....another trip to the ER for me. I'm beginning to think the universe hates me. We're there 8 hours - I kid you not. They give her pain meds, strong drugs and it takes away her migraine. Cat scan is good, so - yup, you guessed it - we go home. Again, I'm supposed to watch my niece Rosie at 10:30am, and I didn't get to sleep until 7 am. My husband decides to watch the girl so I can sleep.

So, I sleep till 2pm. I needed it. I finish watching Rosie and try to relax. Then my sister Lissa calls, ends up calling 911 again and going to the ER. She broke out in this really bad rash, and had breathing problems. Thankfully it was a short trip this time and we found that she was having really severe anxiety attacks. They gave her a Valium and she was konked out by the time we got home.

Because I had no time to relax all week, I decided to stay up really late and play some games. So I stay up until 5 am and sleep late. I wake up at about 9 with another migraine. Which sucks, because Saturday was my best friends 40th birthday party. I try to sleep and my hubby wakes me up with a phone call from my mother, she was concerned about Lissa. I was ticked b/c I was tired of family emergencies and had a migraine. I finally got some sleep, got rid of the majority of the headache and went to the party. The headache didn't go away until 11pm that night. It was a really long day.

Then Sunday I get to sleep in, relax and play my game. And Lissa went to the ER again. Then Luke wakes up Monday morning passing a kidney stone. And though I didn't go to the ER for these things, it's still a little nerve wracking.

In conclusion - I have had a BUSY few weeks. Let's cross our fingers for a better one.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Catching Up

I need to blog more. I've decided I will dedicate Tuesday to blogging. Now I just have to find something to blog about. Hmmm.

Well, it's been a crazy few weeks. I've been watching my sister's daughter (follow me?) Rosie, 3 days a week. My husband, brother and son are all in school. You would think that that leaves me a lot of alone time. It doesn't. I have housework to finish, projects to complete, and kids to watch. I also have lots of snacks, lunches and dinners to make.

Which brings me to my eating. I had Banana Cream Pie for breakfast. Bad. Very bad. I want to do better...but there's just so much food out there. I've bought my healthy foods again though, so I'm trying to get back on track. I figure if I can eat well throughout the holidays - I can eat well all the time.

Which brings me to the gym. Except - I really haven't been to the gym. I hurt my back again. I don't know what I did, but it's all sore and achy. Fun, fun, fun.

So that's just an update and a catch up for now. I'll be working on my stuff throughout the week and posting on Tuesdays. Why Tuesdays? It's the day my game is down for maintenance. Sad but true. See you later!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Subway, Brothers, Gertie and Teeny Boppers.

So much time, so little to do.

Wait - strike that, reverse it.

But I do have time to tell a funny story. So let me begin -

About a week ago now, me and my brother decided to go to Subway for a little bit of nutritious lunch. After a long day of appointments and registering for college and what not, we thought we deserved a treat. So, as tired as we were - we went into our neighborhood friendly Subway.

Except, it weren't so friendly. I ordered my sub, no problems. Then my brother orders his. He gets the same thing every time, chicken bacon ranch, with lettuce, tomato, green peppers and cucumbers. He got a six inch this time and was getting his cucumbers put on, and he asks for extra. Two paper thin quarter size cucumbers weren't gonna cut it.

The employee - I didn't catch her name, so I'll call her Gertie (cuz that's what she looked like to me - 5 feet tall, short grey curly hair, glasses...) decides to get a preemptive snotty attitude, slap on some cucumbers, and says:

"Oh, we have to charge you for extra cucumbers."

My brother had a 'o rly?' look on his face and asked - when that had started?

So Gertie says: "That's the owner's policy, we have to charge you."

This woman picked the wrong day to get on my brother's bad side, because it all went down hill from there. It went a little like this -

Luke: "For 2 little tiny cucumbers?"

Gertie: "Yup. That's the policy. Sir."

Luke: "Oh yeah? Then I don't want them, put them back"

Gertie: "Whatever you want sir. (throws cucumbers back in bin) Anything else you would like with that, sir?"

Luke: "Oh yeah. Let me have some tomato."

Gertie: "Ok, anything else?"

Luke: "Mmmhmm. Throw some green peppers on there."

Gertie: "Anything else?"

Luke: "Ok, I'll take onions." (Luke never eats onions)

Gertie: "Anything else? Sir?"

Luke: "Yup, banana peppers."

Gertie: "Ok, anything else?"

Luke: "Pickles."

Gertie: (who is beginning to see where this is going) "Anything else?"

Luke: "Yup. what are those? Jalapenos? Put some of those on there too. Anything else I can throw on this sucker?"

Those were his exact words. I swear. He asked for every single vegetable - one at a time, mind you - and his voice got louder with each veggie. I had figured out what he was up to by this time and was at the end of the counter shaking with laughter. Gertie looked so ticked off, and her face got more and more snotty with each veggie she put on. I think she would have spit in his sub if she had had a chance. Good thing you actually watch the subs being made.

By now, everyone was beginning to watch and new customers were coming in. So Luke decided to try and make a point, and asks (loudly) why was it he could have "every vegetable in sight for free, but couldn't have two extra cucumbers for free?" And Gertie says again , "It's the owner's policy" and Luke says "What was he thinking of?" and Gertie gets her panties in a twist and says "She. Not He." as condescendingly as she can. So Luke is all like "She? That figures."

So I pay for the subs and I think we're all done.


Luke asks for the manager and this little blond teenager comes over and says "I'm the manager." Well - at this point, Luke's mad, I'm laughing and Gertie is huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. And Luke takes one look at the teenager manager, and laughs. Out loud. I did too. I mean, she couldn't have been more than 19 years old. Then it got really good. Luke asks in a stage voice -

"Where's the garbage can so I can throw away all this crap on my sub that I don't want?"

And Teeny Bopper Manager tells him it's by the door - and he goes to throw all the extra veggies away. He doesn't just nicely toss them away, he picks off one thing and chucks it in the garbage as hard as he can, then the next, and the next. Half of the veggies are falling all over the floor and Teeny Bopper Manager is saying over and over, like a broken record - "You can leave anytime you want to, sir." She must have said it about 8 times in 2 minutes. And he would say back "Yup. I know I can, I know can if I want. But I don't want to yet."

He finishes throwing away all those vegetables, and as a parting shot says:

"I just cost you way more money in vegetables than two lousy cucumbers would have cost you."

Exit Stage Left.

It was beautiful. I'm laughing as I type this, it was so funny to see. If they had just been nice, or smiled, or apologized. Anything but get snooty and condescending. Things may have turned out better. As it stands though, I'm glad he gave them a good what for and made them uncomfortable. I had never been treated that badly in my whole life. I will never go back to that particular Subway ever again.

He went to a different one about 3 days later and got extra cucumbers for free.

Back To The Drawing Board

Hrmm. Dilemma. I don't think I'm going to totally move after all. It's just to hard and I'm being lazy. I'll just post where I feel like it, when I feel like it. End of story.

So, what's up with me? Well, I'm having major emotional issues. They're weird ones - but I'm a weird one, so I guess it makes sense. I haven't been to the gym in almost 2 months now and I'm very angry with myself. I feel like everything I spent so much time working on just got flushed down the toilet. I didn't gain too much weight back, about 7 pounds I think. I'm at 309. Which is a heck of a lot better than 320. But still...

Here's what went down. I was going to the gym with my bestest friend in the whole world. Then her husband, who's a pastor, got a church in Maryland. We lived in NY. You can do the math. So, I kinda gave up because I didn't have my gym buddy anymore. But then, I'm all like "well - that's a chicken crap way to be, Lorikate." and I feel like I should be going.

And I should be.

But every time I think about going without her, I want to cry. I know it's strange, but she was my best friend soul mate. And those don't come along that often. So I don't think I've emotionally dealt with her moving away. I feel like a silly teenager, but I really relied on her friendship. We're still friends, but it's not the same. It just ain't.

So I think the plan is to suck it up, grab the iPod and go back to the gym. Tomorrow. Hubby's not working or in school, so I have the day to do that if I want. I have to get through this.

Huh, who'd a thunk going to the gym was such an emotional battle. But it is, I'll let you know how it works out.

Wish me luck.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


I am sick of people and their crap. I am sick and tired of people telling me to stop depending on everyone else.

For the record, I have made it through my life largely alone. I don't deny that people have helped me along the way, but I have mostly been very much alone.

I have an amazing life right now. I am married to - quite possibly - the most wonderful man alive. He loves me exactly for who I am - stretch marks, bad history, PMS, everything. This man loved me through being chronically depressed, through a bad divorce and worse custody battles, through just about every family issue you can imagine. He has helped not only me, but every single member of my family.

Lately, I have had several of these exact family members tell me that I spend my life depending on others.

If you think that being a stay at home mom is considered depending on others, then you need to either have children, or really raise the ones you have. Being a stay at home mom is a level of work that cannot be explained, only demonstrated. You have to have actually lived it. Nothing else counts. I could give you the long list - changing diapers, making lists, cleaning toys, washing clothes...ecetera, ecetera. I could also try and explain the feeling of being responsible for a little tiny person 24/7, while you're awake, while you're sleeping, while you shop, while you try and relax, even if you manage to get a babysitter - while you're out. It's with you every moment of every day.

Now let me explain something further. I had a very difficult pregnancy, and a difficult delivery. I had to have an emergency C-section. I had a horrible hospital stay, you can read about it in My Story.

Now here's what some of you may not know. My so-called husband (at the time) worked about 30 hours a week at a gas station. He thought he worked oh-so-hard and wouldn't help me. At all. So when my little baby boy cried in the middle of the night, I had to partway roll out of the bed, hold a pillow against my stomach incision, and hobble over to the crib. Then I had to bend over, lift him out, and hobble to the armchair and try and nurse the baby who did not want to be nursed. Then I had to go back to the bedroom, put him to bed and crawl back into my own bed. All as quietly and as quickly as possible so I wouldn't wake up my bi-polar alcoholic (ex) husband. I was alone. As alone as a person can be, maybe more so because someone was there - but wouldn't help me. At all. My younger sister, who partied (she was a teen at the time) helped me out more than anyone else. My mother tried to do what she could, but was married to a crazy (literally - PSTD, schizophrenic) man at the time and wasn't "allowed" to do much to help me. I was on my own. Broke, living in a crappy apartment with plastic chairs and not knowing what to do next. Yeah, I depended so much on everyone - right? You know what - it didn't even occur to me to ask for help, because I just thought that since I was the mother, it was my job. And you know something - I believe I was right about that. To much help renders you helpless.

And when the aforementioned jackass ex husband decided to pick up and leave me - I was left with a little toddler and no income. I was also left with a month of debt, because he had decided he need the money - for drinking and cigarettes. So what did I do? Let me see...I got a job. Waitressing at Pizza Hut. I had to ask family members to watch my son, so if you consider that depending on people - fine. I also found my son daycare when my family could no longer help. And I did all the mom stuff. All of it.

There's more. Ever since I've been on my own, I have been there for every single family member - aside from one brother who lived across the country. I have had my brother, my 2 sisters, my mother and my father all live with me at one time or another. I have driven to WV from NY 2 times to help my brother, Luke. I have lived with Luke on and off since I was 18. When my one sister was living in (what looked like) a crack house, I took her with me to WV to get her away. She also lived with me right after I had my son, because she had no where else to go. I gave her my son's room. My father got kicked out of his house of 17 years by his witch of a girlfriend and he came to live with my sister, then me. My mother was in a situation with her husband a year ago - where he tried to kill her. And who did she live with? Yup - you guessed it, me.

I have been there for people to borrow money from, I have given my last dollar from my bank account. I have given people rides, offered my car, taught people to drive - and not once said that I couldn't afford the wear and tear on my car. I have babysat, grocery shopped, cleaned, taken depressed people on vacation, gone to the hospital, stayed in the hospital and generally have done everything I can to help.

I have had people be there for me, of course I have. But I don't expect it, and I certainly don't get angry when no one is there. I do it myself, because I have to.

What this boils down to is - I don't expect people to watch my kids so I can go upstairs and do paper work. (if that person is reading this..I know that that was the old you!) I don't expect people to watch my children so I can go to sleep - at night - because I don't like to sleep in the day. I do what I have to do because I'm a mother. And I most definitely certainly do not depend on everyone else to do it for me.

In my eyes, I have earned the right to be happily married, and have a good, stable, happy, easy home life. If you think otherwise, then you must not really love me or care about me. If you think that everything I have ever gone through was fun, and therefore don't deserve a happy ever after ending, then you must either be jealous, calloused or insane. And that hurts me to think that any one of my friends or family would be that way towards me. I love my family, and I would help any one of them any instant of any day. But right now I am angry, and tired, and just plain mad. And hurt. It sucks to be hurt.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Life's A Peach

So...it's been an interesting last few days. There's just no other way to describe my life, I think. It's not 'good' or 'bad' or 'fun' or 'boring'.... in truth, it's all of those things. So when I need to describe my life, only one word sums all of that up.


Ain't life a peach?

So, 2 days ago, my Hubby comes home from work, visibly upset. He proceeds to tell me that he got pulled over while leaving home for work. Yup, he was speeding. In a spot where I had told him 84 kajillion times to not speed. Men. Anyway, he finds out that his license has been revoked. Why? We don't know. It just is. He has to call the DMV later today and find out. We think we may have missed a ticket sometime earlier this year. We don't exactly know how...we just...did.

See, when we moved, our address changed got all messed up. Our last name is the same as his parents, and his grandma - and we all lived in the same house. So when I did a family name change online, we started getting his parents mail and they got ours. It took a few months to clear that up. So I think any mail we may have gotten from the DMV didn't exactly get to us.

So now I have to take my husband to work and back for the next few weeks until we have the money to pay off said theorized ticket unpayment. You get that?

That wouldn't be too bad, but my car inspection is like.......7 months overdue. I was supposed to have it inspected in January. So because I don't want to drive an illegal car and get yet another ticket....we had to borrow Hubby's parents van. Which costs waaaay more in gas then a little Honda Civic 2-door hatchback. And since I have to take the Man to work and back...this is gonna be fun.

To top off my interesting week, Time Warner decided to crawl up my butt and start demanding money. Thrill. They want x amount of dollars by, umm...tomorrow. So I had to spend yesterday calling one person, then another to borrow different amounts of money so I can keep my phone and Internet. And I need my Internet. What else would I do? I certainly don't have the money to go out, and I don't have much else to do...so I need my internet.

On a funnier note, my son found a little creek behind our little cul-de-sac. So he goes down to catch fish and crayfish. He caught a pretty big one and brought it back to show me. I got him to pick it up and snapped a pic.

And that's what I got. Love it. He's so funny, my guy. I can't exactly call him little, because he's getting to be as tall as me. But he's still my guy.

Well, that's it for now. Later all.

Monday, August 9, 2010

The Fun Vacation From Hell - Part 2

I woke up today with the intention of going to the gym.

Ahhh.......the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

So here I am, in my living room, being bored and wondering what I should do. So I decided to finish up my vacay story.So, where was I?

Ah yes, bad trip down, fun time there...now we were on our way back.

Now, I had a plan. My mother had to be back home by Tuesday morning to work her double shift at Pizza Hut. Mind you - we had left Thursday, gotten there Friday and decided to leave Sunday morning afternoon evening. The general idea was that - since we had had such a blast on the trip down - we should leave Sunday and get some mileage behind us. My theory was that my brother would get kidney stones again. I wanted to leave at about 3pm, but my mom gave me the ever annoying puppy dog eyes, and I thought maybe we could stay later, because I'm just nice like that.

Yeah, my plans never go right. Mom had to say a one hour goodbye to family at one house, then my brother had to stop and get his bag - and say a one hour good bye at another house. While mom talked to everyone and generally didn't want to leave.

We left at 9:30pm. Why do I even bother?
We drove for a while, I started getting tired, but got my second wind at about 11pm and decided to push as far as possible. We finally stopped at about 1:30 to stay at a Best Western I had found a coupon for. It had a pool, and my son likes to swim - so I thought it was a good idea.

Wrong again.

We checked in, I asked how much they'd charge for a later checkout, and the guy said they would charge a whole other day. Yay. So, I figured get in, go to sleep by 2:30, get up at 10, swim and leave.

I guess I enjoy being wrong, because that is so not what went down.

We walked into our room and immediately noticed a weird musty smell. It wasn't too bad, so it seemed like we could deal with it. We were exhausted and just wanted to get as much sleep as we could. We had all started unpacking, and didn't want to repack and lug our stuff around. We settled down, and about 20 minutes later, I realize I am having a really hard time breathing. I had just gotten over bronchitis, and this was not fun. I really felt like there was a weight on my chest. My brother got up, and I looked at him and he tells me he can't breathe. He has had lung surgery - so you get how hard it was for him to try and breathe in a musty room. So he calls down to the desk and explains. They were really nice about it, and gave us another room immediately. My brother carries my son into the new room and I grab a few things. Then we go to wake up my mom, and she's half dead asleep and mumbles "no, I'm fine" and Luke (my brother) tells her no, she'll get a migraine if she stays in that room. She finally got up and moved. Then Luke starts moving all our stuff (they had said we could keep both rooms) and I help out. I think we got to sleep eventually....like.....5 AM.

I had set the alarm for 10am (yeah, right) and got up at about 11:30. Check out time was 12. I had briefly woken up at about 9am , to the sounds of my brother calling the front desk to ask for more time. They gave us till 2pm. I took Logan swimming, and my mom comes to tell me she had talked to the front desk and they gave us all the time we wanted to leave.

So we left at 4pm. Only us...only us.....

Generally all went well, it was an enjoyable drive. We stopped for gas, and I couldn't see the name of the station - but I went anyway, and Luke tells me it's a BP. So I acidentally supported the Great Oil Spill people. Then Luke decided he wanted Taco Bell for dinner. Sounded like a good idea - but mom had reservations about Luke eating tacos. He has stomach problems too. But we went anyway, because I wanted me a Mexican Pizza. Yummy. We ate, got more gas, and left. About 1/2 an hour later, 4 hours from home - my brother starts holding his side and groaning again. We're down to 5 bucks and need to get home. There was no question of staying anywhere, no one could afford it.

Luke was yelling pretty loud, and took some Vicodin. He yelled some more and took another one. I felt awful - I couldn't stop, it hurt him to go on - we were stuck. He took a 3rd pill and the pain finally let up. It turned out he had had kidney pain and stomach pain. So that was a bad episode.

We got home at about 2:30 am, without further issues. What a trip. I don't think I'll be going on a 'vacation' again for a while.

I am so ready for Christmas. Really, I am.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Let Me Sum Up

Is today Thursday? Really? What happened to the week?

I'm so tired. I can't believe the amount of crap I've been through this summer.

I had a plan.

It was a good plan.

I was going to spend the summer going to the gym, losing weight and spending time with my son, my friends and my family.

So what happens?

I get bronchitis. For 2 whole weeks. I literally spent almost a whole week in bed, laying on my side watching Netflix and playing games on pogo.com. I spent 2 weeks breathing in the Vick's that was smeared on my chest and stuffed up my nose. I couldn't breathe without coughing, so I certainly wasn't spending any time running around with the boy in the back yard.

So, I get over my sickness (mostly - I'm still coughing a little) and I get my period. Not a ho-hum I have cramps boo hoo let's take some ibuprofen and lay down period.

I get a holy crap kill me now take me to the er and let me die now period. I spent a whole evening with instruments shoved up my hoo-hah just for them to tell me nothing was wrong - go home and take some ibuprofen. I wanted to kill people. Ibuprofen?? If I could have taken (over the counter) ibuprofen to get rid of my pain - I wouldn't BE here, you dimwit. Let me chop off your leg and hand you some ibuprofen. Tell me how you feel then. Hmph.

So about a week after that I get a pain in my side. I think I'm full of gas, but my pain level says otherwise and I end up on the floor - clawing it and hollering. I go to the hospital again - and we figure out that I have a kidney stone. It takes the ER 5 hours to figure this out by the way.... I could have just taken ibuprofen and saved them all the trouble, but I thought I was dying and my liver or something had blown up - so I ended up in the ER. For 5 hours. For a 3 mm kidney stone. How something that small can cause that much pain is beyond me. Anyway, they finally finish up at about 4am, and send me home with  - you guessed it - Ibuprofen. This time my mom and I put our foot (feet?) down and make them give me the real stuff. Jeez. You think they'd think I was a drug addict or something. My mom theorizes that it's because I'm fat. I think there's some truth in that, medical discrimination against fat people. My brother weighs like 5 pound dripping wet and he gets Vicodin if he blinks funny. I get ibuprofen. Yay.
Life's Little Cure-All

Anyhoo....after that loverly episode of pain and torture, I get a yeast infection. Digging around your personal parts, smearing them with Vagasil and anti itch cream is not a good way to spend a week. Especially if no one's had sex in about 3 weeks at this point. Then you get horny and itchy and that's not a good combo. Trust me. I never, ever want a yeast infection again. I think I spent about 4 hours a day in boiling hot water in the bathtub. Literally.

It doesn't end here folks. Oh, no. The good Lord has more up his sleeve for me. (thank you Jesus for teaching me about humility and pain - no further lessons are needed, k thanx bai.) At the tail end of Ye Old Yeast Infection....I get my period again. Dun dun dun. Doing the math I'm kind of like What the-?, but hey, who ever said my body was any good at math. So, for those of you who have tried to insert a tampon into an itchy vagina.....I totally understand and sympathize. That's a kind of torture I wouldn't wish on Obama my worst enemy. (is it wrong that I'm laughing because Obama isn't on the spellcheck list?) On second thought.....

Then I have vacation.  A simple, uncomplicated little trip down to South Carolina for my family reunion.

Right. I guess God never got my little memo about me needing a break from...well, from life. You can read all about some of that little trip here. Not fun. Well, fun, but not fun.

So, I get home 3 days ago today and what do I wake up with on Tuesday morning? A freaking head cold. In August. August. Really Lord? Seriously? How can all this crap happen to just one person this summer? Why? What for? Howcome?

Well, now that the summer is pretty much over, I plan...wait a second. I plan nothing. If I plan on nothing...then I can't be disappointed.

I am so ready for Christmas.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The Fun Vaction From Hell - Part 1

I went on vacation.

I think.

The original plan was this:

We were going from NY to SC. I would take myself, my son - Logan and my brother, Luke. My mom would follow me down in her car. The reason for this was that my mom had to be back earlier, and she also had to meet my other brother, Liam - and his girlfriend, Kaycee - in SC. They had flown there from Washington state. They would ride back up with my mom and I would stay in SC longer and visit.

We were operating on a shoestring budget, and would have to drive about 11 hours straight. No money, or time, for stopping and staying anywhere. We left at about 1pm - no one in my family is a morning person, and that's just how we roll....always late. Anyway, my mom was going to follow me, seeing as she couldn't remember the directions.

(which - by the way - was this: 81S to 77S. Yeah, that's it......)

So off we go. My brother, Luke was riding with me, and my son, Logan was riding with my Mom. Sure enough - we hit some roadwork. There was a highway split, both one lane, surrounded by barrells and cones. You either went straight on 81S, or veered right to go on 80 East. Nearing this split I had a sinking feeling something would go wrong, and my mom did not dissapoint.

She followed the wrong little red car down 80 East. You heard me. So Luke called her, and told her to turn around and get back on 81 South. we would meet up at the next available rest area. Sounds simple enough - right?

Wrong. My brother was trying to explain the plan to my mom over a really crappy cell phone, and I only heard his end of the conversation. So I"m filling in some blanks here - but the conversation went a little like this:

Luke: Mom, meet us at the next rest area.

Mom: Where?

Luke: The next rest area.

Mom: Where is it?

Luke: Just..the next rest area.

Mom: How far is it?

Luke: Mom, just...the next one!

Mom: Will you be there?

Luke: I don't know, just stop and wait for us!

Mom: Will you get there first?

Luke: I don't know, just stop at the next rest area, if you get there first wait for us. If we get there first we'll wait for you.

Mom: Where's it at?

Luke: The next @*$@*# rest area, Mom. The next one you come to. Meet us there!

Mom: But...how far is it?

Luke: I don't @*(%&*%# KNOW. Just drive until you see a rest area, and stop there!

Mom: But how will I know where to stop?

Luke: You see a sign for a rest area and you @*$#^( STOP.

Mom: How will I know when to stop?

There was a lot of swearing after this one, some more yelling, me hollering and Luke swearing some more, and I think she finally got the picture because Luke swore some more and then hung up. It was sort of comical.

Anyway, we get through the traffic and are zipping along, looking for the next rest area, and the phone rings again. My mom's car had broken down and we had to turn around to go get her. She tells my brother that she's next to the exit to Hazelton (PA) and hangs up.

There are 6 exits into Hazelton. We try to call back to see which one she's at, and there's no answer. We call, over and over, and over, and over. No answer. My brother and I start to worry.  A lot. He keeps saying that they've been hijacked. I keep telling him to shut up. (he was scaring me, and I just need to focus and drive) There's a lot of swearing, yelling, finger pointing, and screaming in each others faces. There was almost some hitting and throwing someone out of the car. We were worried. It was hot, and I didn't know where my son was. She finally answered and told us which exit she was at. We find them and get to a gas station, and ask for directions to a mechanic. Needless to say - we get lost trying to find the mechanic, ask for directions again, no one knows anything about anything, ask someone else, and finally find the little tiny podunk place. Fun, fun, fun.

Turned out her radiator fan had broken. It was Thursday evening at about 5pm. The mechanic can't get the part until Monday. The reunion is on Saturday. We make the decision to pack her into my little Honda Civic - 2 door hatchback - and continue on. In hindsight, it was a good thing in a way - because my mom had had a 2 day migraine and was really sick. She was having a hard time driving. Anyway....

Now, me, my brother Luke and my son Logan had each packed a duffle bag and a backpack (for inside the car). We go to get my mothers luggage and try and fit her into the car.

She had - and I quote -

1 suitcase, 1 make up case, 1 small bin of medicines, 1 large bag (her purse), 1 tote bag (personal papers, her Bible), 1 cooler, 1 tote (paper products)1 camera case, 1 fan and 1 tripod. Oh, and 3 bags of food. Which I guess, in her defense, we asked her to bring. There was no way we were getting all that into my car. So , she pared it down and we were finally off. Again.

About 1 hour late my brother tells me he has to go to the bathroom. We stop, he goes in, and - wait for it - comes out holding his stomach. Turns out he was passing a kidney stone. He had vicodin, but was still groaning. He tells me to just keep driving - but by now, it's getting to be near midnight, and we're in Virginia. Virginia is......empty. And the stops are far and few between. And my brother needs a bathroom. So, I finally see a hotel, and I decide to stop for the night. It was a good idea. We got a good nights sleep. We wake up pretty refreshed, and get back on the road at about 2pm.

We drive....and my brother gets a migraine. So, for almost the rest of the trip...he's sick. I feel bad, but we had to keep going. The reunion was Saturday, and this was Friday evening.

But...we finally make into SC at about 7pm. We all head to where ever it is we are staying at, and my brother's migraine goes away. We had a good time while we were down there. The reunion went great, I even played volleyball. My son found the tree fort in the woods, and we all had a blast. I saw cousins and Aunts and Uncles I hadn't seen in almost 15 years. I met all their wives and children. My son even came away from the event with a whole box of Dragonball Z tapes. He was in heaven. We laughed, goofed off, fooled around, ate lots of food and generally made idiots of ourselves. It was awesome.

Until we head home.

But I'm going to make that Part 2.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Coversations With Myself

Me:  I'm hungry.

Inner Evil Self: Yeah, there's cake in the kitchen you know.

Me: Yes, I'm perfectly aware - you fat idiot pig. Shut up and let me sleep.

Inner Evil Self: It has roses. Big flower roses.

Me: Oh, no really? You think? I'm trying to lose weight here, and all you want to do is eat.  Mainly sugar.

Inner Evil Self: So eat cheese. Cheese is good.

Me: Not helping. My butt itches. And I need to sleep.

Inner Evil Self: You sleep better after you eat, ya know.

Me: Liar. And my butt still itches. So either help me out with that or shut the heck up.

Inner Evil Self: Ha! You can't reach your butt. So deal. We have cheese in the kitchen too.

Me: What is with you? can't you just help me out for once?? That would be nice - or shocking, take your pick.

Inner Evil Self: What fun would that be? OMG - Adam Lambert is on MTV.

Me: Kill me now. Did you just Oh-Em-Gee me?

Inner Evil Self: I'm trying but you won't let me. Big frosting roses, one's pink.

Me: I hate pink.

Inner Evil Self: Then the other one's yellow.

Me: I don't like yellow either, so there.

Inner Evil Self: You know you act like a child when you're hungry?

Me: So I've been told. Adam Lambert wears too much makeup and his music sucks.

Inner Evil Self: So do his videos, but that's not what we were talking about. Cake. You have cake. It even has your name on it.

Me: I hate you.

Inner Evil Self: Oh. No. My. Feelings. Are. So. Hurt.

Me: I'm tired. And I wish this song would end. What in the world happened to MTV?

Inner Evil Self: Talk shows, reality TV and Adam Lambert. CAKE.

Me: Oh yeah. NO. No cake.

Inner Evil Self: At least go lick the frosting off the edge of the plate. It'll be fun, I promise.

Me: You are the devil.

Inner Evil Self: Nah, he's busy  helping Adam Lambert write music.

Me: Huh. I guess. I'd go to sleep but I itch.

Inner Evil Self: Eat Cake.

Me: Fine.

Inner Evil Self: YES!

Me: Just kidding. Gotcha!

Inner Evil Self: You suck.

Me: Now you know how it feels. I'm going to bed.

This is what happens when you're still up at 5am.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Electric Bills and Exercise

I'm so tired I need to prop up my eyelids with toothpicks. Or Q tips, but I don't think my eyelids will stretch that far. I would ingest some caffeine, but that doesn't really work for me. What I will probably do is go play video games all night until it's a proper time to go to sleep.

 Like, midnight. Or 2am. If I make it that far.

I had to pay my electric bill this morning, so I wouldn't get shut off. Technically I had to pay it Friday, so I called the robbers company, and found out that they don't do shutoffs Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Or holidays. Or the day before or the day after a holiday. You think with all I pay them they could afford to send people out everyday. Anyway - I thought, 'hey, let's pay them online this weekend!'.

Dumb Idea. I was going to use my brothers card - because it was his money we were using (we still have none) and too late, I realized you have to attach the whole bank account to the electric account. Not happening. Then I thought we'd pay over the phone. Not open. Jeez.

So I stayed up all night and drove over there and paid it this morning at the crack of dawn. Eight o'clock in the morning to be precise. Life is just dandy.

So, I'm tired and I really should go to the gym. But there's no way - I would fall off of the elliptical so fast you'd need a high speed camera to catch it. I have been doing horrible on my 'diet'. I had 2 peices of frosting covered brownies yesterday. And that's just yesterday. The last few weeks have been a joke. Chips, cheese, meat, food and more food and junk and sugar. Yeah. That kind of eating. So, the plan is to head back to the gym this week - but I gotta do it before my husband goes to work at 3 pm.

We'll see. Wish me luck!

Monday, July 12, 2010

My Fun Summer. Kinda.

I am here. I am still breathing. And yes, I am still blogging.

I spent about 2 weeks in bed - quite literally - with bronchitis. Not fun. Vicks, vaporizers, cough drops...I think my tongue is permanently red from cough drops. If I never see another cherry anything, I will be a Happy Flabby. Ugh.

So now, although I am still coughing, it's time to get back up on the horse. 2 weeks with no gym can make you ...well - flabby. I dread the thought of getting back up on that elliptical, and the treadmill. Funnily enough though, I can feel my body slowly reverting back to what it was before I started exercising. I get more headaches, and I'm lazier and I don't sleep right. I've been going to bed at 5am and waking up at 12 or 2pm. I feel sucky. Really sucky. Plus I've been eating whatever I want, when I want. It started as - "oh, my throat hurts - ice cream it is!" and now it's like "Gimme the chocolate now, dummy!" I have woken the sleeping hunger beast. I thought I had whooped it but I guess I just lulled it to sleep for a while. In all honesty- it'll be there forever I think.

I learned something new today.

I like to sweat. If I do something, household chores, running, playing, whatever, and I sweat while doing it - I feel good! If I don't I feel like I didn't accomplish much. New gym mentality perhaps? I like it.

Life has been crazy this summer. We were a little financially strapped to begin with, and then we found out a few weeks ago that we were in the 'extended unemplyment' bracket - so our unemployment was totally cut off. The sole income on the house has been  my weekly child support payments from the Nasty Ex. A whopping $15 a week has kept us in toilet paper and shampoo. Yay. But things are looking up, we got food stamps (so we wouldn't starve) and my hubby got a job! It actually starts today! It's a temp job - but that's all we need, our income goes back up as soon as he's in college again. GI Bill and all that. I'm done being sick and I plan on enjoying a fun summer with my son.

Cuz we gots us a slip and slide.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Flabby Goes To The Hospital

Ok, so some of you have already read about my very long week.

Tuesday night (or Wednesday morning?) I went to bed at 5am. I couldn't sleep - I've been hacking up a lung. Not a pleasant experience. My brother wakes me up at 7:30 and tells me he has to go to the hospital. Now, my brother would never wake me up unless he's next to dying in pain, so I got up and we went to the ER.

Everyone was awesome. Almost unbelievable, I know, but the nurses got me coffee, they talked to us, the doctors were actually friendly, and they were kind to both of us. I was very impressed. They admitted my brother, he was passing a kidney stone - one from each kidney. So I spent the night with him. Now, I had thrown on my nasty, dirty gym clothes that I hadn't washed - so I ended up spending the day in them. By that evening - I had broken out in a skin rash (I guess I have sensitive skin) and was miserable. I had also gotten my period that morning while waiting in the ER. Great day.

I'm in pain, itching, dirty and starving - and I finally managed to fall asleep at 3AM. My brother had been passed out - thanks to the morphine they gave him - and I had been tiptoeing around all night, trying to be quiet while scratching myself to death. Of course the nurses had to check vitals at 5 AM, so that was all the sleep I got. I decided to go home and shower and change and then go back to the hospital - my brother was going to have to have surgery to remove the stones. I pried my eyelids open and drove home - and sure enough, as I walk in the door, my brother calls me and tells me he passes one of the stones and they were releasing him. No surgery. That was actually good news, so I threw on some clean clothes (minus the shower) and went back. We then proceeded to wait for 2 hours before he was finally released. I could have had my shower after all.

Later that evening, after a shower and a nap, I got Cramps From Hell. Literally. I was hollering and moaning and groaning. So I took almost 2 Vicodin and passed out. The same thing happened Saturday afternoon, so I finally went to the ER myself. Yeah, they recognized me but I was yelling so much I didn't care.

Here's where the story gets real good.

They put me in fast track, because I guess cramps aren't enough for them to really be worried about. I was alright with that, I just wanted the pain to stop. So they come in, ask me what I'm allergic to (compazine) and start an IV. They tried my hands first, because my veins are always deep, and they hit a valve.

I don't know if that has ever happened to you - but let me tell you, that's a pain you don't want. Someone shoving a needle around in your hand, hitting nerves that aren't supposed to be hit, making your feet fly off the bed and making you yell like a dying cow. Pain. PAIN. I started crying and bawling like a baby. I have a slight fear of needles to begin with, and my worst fear had just come true. I wanted to kill someone.

With my hubby holding my hand and trying to soothe me, they try my other arm, this time in the arm, not the hand. They fiddle around in there for a bit and get the IV in. The nurse comes in with pain medication and my anti-nausea medicine.

Now, I'm allergic to compazine, it gives me - in short - anxiety attacks. SO the nurse comes in, and because by now I'm terrified of anything this woman is going to do, I ask her if she has the right medicine. She says, yeah - it's compazine.

WHAT? I was only one short nanosecond away from ripping the needle out of her hand and kicking her in the nuts. If she had 'em. Then she laughs and says she's kidding. Um, ok. Do you see me laughing? I'm crying and hyperventilating and you want to crack jokes about a medicine I'm allergic to? I almost killed her. With my bare hands.

The rest of the visit was ok. I guess. I was still in some pain, and the nurse comes back in and asks me if I'm in pain, and I say yes - to which she replies, "You'll be in some pain, it doesn't all go away", and I'm like what the HELL?!?!? Why did you ask me to begin with - and I was under the impression that I had a right to pain management. Get me out of here, I'll go overdose on aspirin or something.

Then they send me to ultrasound, stick what looks like a very long dildo up my hoo-ha and ram it into all my innards. Fun, fun, fun. Then we go back and I get a pelvic exam, hoo boy howdy. I was all kinds of excited by then. Finally they tell me everything's normal, it's just hormones and I get to go home.

The doctor then proceeds to tell me to take Ibuprofen. I was like, come again? I came in here on heavy duty narcotics and you want me to go home with over the counter ibuprofen? Did you even go to medical school or did you get one of them there online degrees? Why do all the doctors want to give you ibuprofen?

Having a baby?

Take some Ibuprofen!

Broke an  arm?

Take some Ibuprofen!

Take some Ibuprofen!

I hate Ibuprofen. So we just left. And of course I was in pain agian last night, and did the Ibuprofen do anything? Nope. I guess I should be the doctor. Anyway, I'm home now - still coughing, still having pain, but I have my trusty Ibuprofen. I guess it's a good thing I have some Vicodin left over form last time. We'll see.

Monday, June 21, 2010

You Know What I Hate?

1. Wal-Mart and their parking lots. If I don't get killed trying to park, then I get run over by the the big fat woman glaring at you because you're taking to long to look at shampoo. Then you get to stand in line, wait for the pimply faced teenager to throw your eggs in the bag, whine if you ask him to bag your gallon of milk, and listen to him sigh when you ask him to come and scan the ginormous packs of bottled water in the bottom of your cart.

After all that, you get to try and cross the walkway while avoiding all the old people who don't know what a stop sign is, get your groceries stuffed in the car, and try back out of your spot without getting clipped by the redneck who thinks Wal-Mart is a race track. Oh, the fun.
Wal Mart is evil.

2. Hypocrites. I"m talking about the ones who are all nicey-nice to your face and talk crap behind your back. I thought I had cleaned those people out of my life - but they just keep popping back up like pimples on your butt. Both of those things - hypocrites and butt pimples - need to be popped. End of story.

3. All You Can Eat Buffets. Those things were built to make you feel like crap. If you're fat - then it's a black hole of stuff-your-face that never ends, unless you can't fit in the booth. If you're trying to lose weight - then it's still a black hole of stuff-your-face, only now you feel guilty about it. And if you're skinny - then you just paid fifteen bucks for lemon flavored lettuce and water. yay. I can do that for fifty cents at home.

4. Thank You cards. Since when did saying "thank you" become not enough? I opened the present, said thank you ,gushed a little, and moved on. Now I have to buy cards, write them all out, figure out all the addresses and who gave me what, and then I have to pay to say thank you? Uh, No Thanks.

5. And while we're on the subject, I hate Christmas cards. Not getting them, or even sending them out - that's not too hideous. I'm talking about the obligatory "my family is better than your family" yearly family letter. This is what I'm gonna write this year:

Dear People I Barely Know,

This year was ok. I got married last year, (by the way - thanks for the gifts) and it's been pretty good. I ate a lot of cake, got real fat, hate housework. I don't do my dishes often, and I wear the same shirt until it stinks or I spill kool-aid on it. I'm dealing with my in-laws a little better - but maybe it's because I don't feel like peeling my butt off of the couch to go and actually talk to them much. My family is fine, my kid sister got knocked up by some pissant little peckerwood that I can't stand. I may sic my husband on him - if the hubby can be convinced to put down the Xbox 360 Controller. We sit around all day, eating cheese and collecting food stamps. I was going to trade them for money - but my mom doesn't have any. We're all broke, but no one cares much because no one moves very much. We can sit around at home just as easily with money as without it. My kid is doing ok with school, and looks like a leftover hippie because he refuses to get his hair cut. I'm waiting until he gets lice so I can shave his head and be done with it. So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Until next Christmas, LK and fam.

That would be funny. I exaggerate (I think) - but you get the point.

6. Humidity. As if I didn't feel fat and sweaty enough - I walk outside and there's already a layer of moisture in the air. Makes me want to stay inside and write thank you cards. Kinda.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I Need Some Cheese For This Whine....

I got this from Karen @ muffin fixation, who got it  from I go through life in inches and pounds. (Whom I didn't know - until now) And because I'm still getting over being sick, haven't been to the gym in a week and am scared to weigh myself. I'm going to repost this.

Ok, it's because I'm lazy today just lazy. I'm human, sue me.

Some great quotes from Jewel in the July 2010 Shape Magazine cover story:

On being called "the chubby Renee Zellweger" in the media years ago:

"My feelings were so hurt by that story, I ended up binging on an entire cake. Afterward, I actually tried to throw it all up, but thankfully I couldn't do it. It made me think, 'I can't go down this road.' I had seen so many performers develop eating disorders or try to control their weight with drugs, and I decided I would do no harm to my body."

Her advice to women:
"We should be more like men, God bless 'em. They can take their shirts off and show their man boobs, and they don't give a hoot. But women are so critical of themselves. We can be gorgeous and hot and still be embarrassed to wear a tank top. So if you can't stop looking in the mirror, at least try to not think badly about yourself when you do."

So let's all promise two things to ourselves today...
1.  I will do no harm to my body.
2. I will not think badly about myself when I look in the mirror.

Of course, when I was done reading - I went to the original article and found Jewel looking like this:
And I was like...pfft. Yeah. I'd be all "women shouldn't care about their bodies and be proud to show it off" if I looked like that. Heck. I'd be happy to be called the "chubby Renee Zellweger - because that would mean I weighed.....what? 122 pounds instead of 115. Whatever.

I'm not bashing the ladies that posted this, I'm just looking at the article through crap colored glasses. It's just who I am.

Just a little bit of my cynicism breaking through. It's still a good message, but for me - it just doesn't have the oomph it did before I saw the picture. Just sayin.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

I Refuse To Blog About Houseplants

Once again, I was inspired. I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of inspiration. Probably spend my days posting about how well my houseplants are doing.

"and today...my windowsill houseplant had 2 brown leaves. Oh no! Whatever shall I do? I've watered, and watered..but it's not exactly my fault that it's been raining for a week straight, and there's no sun. Do I have to import artificial sunlight....because..."

Yeah. No. Good thing you all inspire me. Today's inspiration comes from my real life best friend, Crystal @ The Purpose Driven Journey. She wrote a post called 7 Things I Don't Have. At first I thought....'ok, that's rather negative..", but then I read on.

You'll see - here's my 7 things:

1. I don't have 13 extra pounds. Cuz they're gone now!

2. I don't have smallpox. For which I am very grateful.

3. I don't have a cardboard box for a house. Good thing, because cardboard boxes don't have Internet hookups.

4. I don't have a selfish husband. Or a cheating one. Or one that hits me.

5. I don't have mountains of debt. I have some, but it's like a small hill of debt, not a mountain.

6. I don't have a migraine. Not today, Thank God.

7. I don't have bedbugs. Not anymore.

See? It's like being positive in reverse. Rather interesting to think that way. Especially because I've been sick for a week straight, and am coughing like crazy. But I still have a lot of good in my life. I do need to get back to the gym soon, but all in good time. I need to get better first. And I've been eating well, so that's one thing I can do at the moment!

Well, I'll leave you all with a thought -What 7 things don't you have?

Friday, June 11, 2010


I just read a great blog post over at Journey Beyond Survival. And it got me thinking -

I feel so unsexy. Most of the time, I feel lumpy and unattractive. I wander around the house in pj's, t-shirts, and stretch pants. I don't wear make-up. Not even to go out. I don't wear heels or fancy shoes of any kind, and I've even lost interest in switching purses to match my outfits. (gasp!)

Now, I used to be a sexy beast. Really - I was. I went from 305 pounds to 220 in one year. I felt amazing, looked amazing and knew it. I was a sexy beast. Rawr.

What happened to her? Well, she gained all that weight back, plus a few pounds. Gradually, over the last 2-3 years, I have packed on the pounds, and lost my interest in being good looking. I don't put lotion on my dry skin, don't wash my face, and I can barely muster up the strength to shave my legs. I'm beginning to think that I think that I don't deserve to be sexy. That fat must not be beautiful. That overweight people don't deserve to look good.

Screw that. I'm still hot. I still have an amazing rack, gorgeous eyes, and a beautiful face. My husband still wants to make love to me - so he must think I'm still good looking. Screw the world and their preconceived notions of what beauty is. I'm so sorry I don't have the body of an anorexic 12 year old - and I truly hope I never do. Bite me, Mary Kate Olsen.

I'm going on a date tonight. I'm dressing up. I'm shaving my legs and wearing the red lipstick my husband likes me to wear. And I'm gonna shake it like jello. You don't like it - close your eyes.

I'm back.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Who Cares?

I've been thinking a lot lately. 

I've realized that I think too much about what other people think. I'm learning not to - but I still freak out about what others think. Here's some of my thought processes:

If I wear high heels I think - "Are people going to think I'm stupid for wearing heels? Am I too fat to wear heels?"

If I put candy in my grocery cart I think - "Who's watching? Are they laughing?"

If I run I think - "Who's waiting for me to get a black eye? Are they watching?"

If I play in the park with my son I think - "Who's waiting for the swings to break?"

So I got to thinking about what everyone else thinks. And I see that I need to not care. (still following me?) There have been a lot of people who don't care what people think. 
Like this:

What if Michael Jackson was too afraid to introduce the idea of a concept music video?
 We wouldn't have Thriller.

What if George Lucas was unsure of his intergalactic space stories?
No Star Wars.

What if John Lennon hadn't been confident enough to start a band?
There would have been no Beatles.

These people changed our worlds. Our Music. Our Movies. We wouldn't be who we are today if it wasn't for them. So I have to ask myself - what can I change simply by being who I really am? Lady GaGa is dresses like an escaped lunatic, Marilyn Monroe looked like a floozy most of the time, and Elvis wore white jumpsuits and curled his lip. 

They didn't care. Why should I?

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Welcome, Brunhilda

So, by now everyone's pretty much figured out that I had a bad day yesterday.

Flabby McGee's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Except that the end of it turned out quite well. I ate great yesterday, Turkey sandwiches, yogurt, strawberries, cucumbers...Yum. I'm getting hungry thinking about it. Anyway - I was proud of myself for getting back on track there.
Then my gym buddy told me she couldn't go to the gym. (she has 5 children- 'nuff said.) I was disappointed, and started getting depressed.

Then I told myself to knock it the heck off. So I got up, and went to the gym.

All by myself.

So, I'm proud of me. I am petrified of gyms, and I'm scared of what others might say. It's hard enough for me to get to the gym with my best friend, much less alone. But I realized yesterday that I need to be there, probably more so than anyone else. I realized that that makes me stronger than most - to admit what I need to fix, and fix it. I also realized that no one knows who I am or why I'm there.

For all they know -

I could be Brunhilda, the heavyweight division wrestling champion of Germany.

I could be making $100 an hour testing gyms to see if they're good enough for fat people.

I could be undergoing a sex change operation and bulking up for the future.

I could be a detective staking out a drug running ring at my local gym.

I could be a famous actor in a fat suit trying to do research for my latest film.

I could be a Biggest Loser candidate, getting ready to work out 8 hours a day.

I realized that they don't know me, they don't know who I am, and they especially don't know what I've achieved.

They see a fat girl on a treadmill,

I see a girl who's lost 13 pounds.
I see a girl who couldn't walk up the stairs, but now can go 2 miles on an elliptical.
I see a girl who's conquered her eating problems.
I see a girl who is brutally honest with herself.
I see a girl who is strong - inside and out.

I felt awesome. So, I guess it wasn't a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day after all.

Monday, June 7, 2010

I'm Tired

I'm so tired.

Tired of not eating cake.
So I ate some.

Tired of not eating chocolate.
So I ate some.

Tired of not drinking soda.
So I drank some.

Tired of getting up and going to the gym.
So I didn't go.

Tired of worrying about what I eat.
So I ate everything I could.

And now I'm sick. And tired. Now I'm tired of being lazy. And I'm tired of not focusing, and I'm tired of not having any self control. I'm tired of being a bum. And I'm tired of being fat.

My mother always told me - Change only comes when the pain of staying the same is more then the pain of change. Looks like she was right.

Yeah, I'm tired of that too.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

What If They Were Fat?

I know it's a little late, but head over to Fight Fat Phobia for an AWESOME giveaway. That ends tonight, but you still have time!

Movie Stars. We all want to be them. Or date one.

They're perfect, beautiful...and thin. But what if they weighed what we weighed? How beautiful would they be if they were fat...like us? Would they still be gorgeous, or would they look like regular people? Let's take a look...

Paris Hilton -

This is my favorite. Not only does she look normal, she looks downright ugly. Oh wait, she's always ugly.

Jessica Alba - without the smokin bod, she's just another pretty face.

Justin Timberlake - I picture this face belonging to someone named Billy Bob Joe Jack, sitting in his battered lawn chair on his trailer porch add-on, letting beer dribble down his chin - with a tin can of cigarettes and his trusty shotgun by his side.

Megan Fox - This picture gave me a weird thrill. I can't stand Megan Fox, and to see her looking like an overweight 2 dollar hooker....made me very happy.

Well, that's it for now. I think I may run this segment again in the future. I'm not saying that weight makes you ugly - I'm trying to say that all the people I am jealous of or aspire to be - well, they look just like everyday people without the personal trainers and dietitians. I choose to look at it like this, What am I going to look like when I lose all my weight?