This has been a fitful year, like sleep after a buffet over grazing. No pause from the frustration and chaos. But the tone for the upcoming year is being set now, with a marvelous Xmas, with everyone in positive moods, and travel to see Soldier and his family. His Xmas present is new years eve out with his wife, as we arrive tomorrow coming home in 2010. We shall see what lies ahead.
My husband could not find anyone to drink with and has drug home some old friend that is now apparently homeless. The guy looks just like bin laden, only filthy and flea ridden and in a ski cap and several shirts. He has a home sort of, but no heat, no electric, no water (which is really obviously let me tell you) and ---- wait for it------ at least 19 cats. If my kids were on their own, I swear, I would just pack up and leave.
Okay, they had me at the OC but it has defiantly kicked up with this season to the point I have decided to start recording them. OMG it is like a train wreck and I cannot help myself, could I be any more of a nut? No no I cannot. And their stupid songs are stuck in my head to the point I am singing them around the house and doing the 'fly above them' motions too. Nothing I tell you more attractive than a 50 year old woman singing and dancing to urban pop. Not even the dogs are entertained but I cannot stop myself.
And as a side note to my complete depravity I am going completely nuts trying to get all the words and tune of the Schnitzelbank song. Yes it is a real song my German teacher made us sing, and I used to sing it to my children just to make them laugh, which works because it is funny. And in German it is really funny. And Angel remembered it and well, if my baby girl wants to have a good memory of her childhood, by god I am going to dig up the song and sing it again!!! If I could just get that 'tardy for the party' song out of my head!!!! Damn those housewives!!!
This weekend is the car show for my son and future son-in-law 's car club. http://www.droptout.com/ is the sight, feel free to take a peak, watch out for nearly naked women and freakishly handsome young men!!!
Anyway, it wil probably be great, despite as Fat Cat says, It is a completely white trash thing to do.
for your daughters birthday you get matching tattoos - in Arabic - when you are not from the middle east and one of you is a minor. Allah only knows what they actually say. And I may add that the money spent on these may have been better applied to say...... car insurance or senior pictures that we keep dropping hints we can't pay for or perhaps for at least an attempt at paying the taxes on the house you are loosing!!!!
Sometimes I get these ideas that I am going to make some spectacular dessert that will be just awe inspiring and I will suddenly be on the news being interviewed about the best dessert anyone ever tasted and I will be humble yet brilliant and everyone will try it and it will be worshipped. And inevitably I will sabotage myself and waste about one billion dollars and like a year of my life that i do not have to loose on something that melts into a puddle. (since the last jello mold experience --- well lets just say it was so nasty the little pieces of fruit were running faster than the liquid)
So I score this recipe for a cheese cake that sounds (as they always do, those sirens) amazing, and i get a loan for the ingredients (despite a serious stomach volcano whilst shopping- ick to the grocery store restroom).
I get the thing made, 2 hours of prep, maybe a slight exaggeration, and place it in my brand new spring form pan, in a deep pan of boiling water and balance the whole boiling goopy mess into my oven at 325 for 40 minutes. I go back to my recipe and note that it was supposed to be 1 1/2 cups of sugar not 1/2 cup of sugar! OMG! I run into the kitchen yank open the oven, grab my mits and carefully lift the spring form pan out of the boiling water past the oven door and wap it into the stove because i could not manage to raise it the 1 millionth of an inch more it would take to clear the stove. So about a cup of the golden goo splashed all over the place. Then in my brilliant mind i can take the cup of sugar I forgot and mix it in , post assembly of the cheese cake. I am not sure why i thought this was okay, but since the TV crew was not filming me at the moment, i guess I thought it okay. so I mixed it in carefully with a teaspoon and convinced myself that it was still going to be amazing.
I put it back in the oven, reminder to all, if your oven mits get wet the heat goes right through to your hands and you have to start like cussing so you do not drop your cheese cake. but you will slosh some on the oven door which will burn off later.
I go back to the recipe to read about what to do when my 40 minutes were up, and i realize the 1 1/2 cups of sugar was TOTAL sugar. 1/2 cup in the cake and 1 cup for the topping. DAMN IT. Well, i am not giving up now and i let the stupid cake bake and of course, the 40 minutes is not enough and i bake it 20 more minutes and it looks okay.
It is supposed to stay in the fridge for 4 hours or overnight, and i just figure that 3 hours is good enough and i yank it out and un-springform pan the thing. And I read the recipe which says to put the cup of sugar on top and then put under the broiler. Which is all good, and I do that when I notice that i was NOT supposed to unspringform the stupid thing. (Damn it, foiled yet again by that whole reading the recipe thing) and it begins to melt all over the broiler, then i yank it out, flinging chunks of cheese cake about the kitchen.
I scrape the entire thing in a bowl. Cheese Puddin. Not bad. Little gritty maybe.
Oh it is spectacular! We have 6 solid scenes and we are interactive with our pillary (look it up) - I have to admit it is fun! The neighbor kids are enthralled! As of course is Fat Cat! And for those who have not heard, I have spent this summer giving my house an updo. Wood floors (okay the WT version of wood, pergo) in the living room, dining room, and family room. Which of course means painting and cleaning while the rooms are vacant. it looks like an entire new house!! Of course I have had to give up smoking and eating to hve them but it is really nice!
Slowly moving out of my self loathing indulgent slump and am working on unmuddling myself. As bizarre as it sounds, the way out has been inspired by my ex boss. In a desperate state she had to call my current boss and beg me to come over and help her. Yeah that is right. The Beatch has herself in a whole and i am the only one that can help!!! (In case you cannot see me, I am a dancing fool!) I have loved every second, I don't have to say a word, it is so sweet and perfect!
Friday night I went to the gun range with my son and shot the assault rifle along with a variety of weapons. Really good for the frustration build up, I do have to tell you. Then came home and went to the county fair with my husband - where I ate steak on a stick and fried dough.
As I walked around I realized I am just completely white trash.
“To be rich in admiration and free from envy, to rejoice greatly in the good of others, to love with such generosity of heart that your love is still a dear possession in absence or unkindness - these are the gifts which money cannot buy.” —Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894); poet, essayist, author
I had a hard time getting up and cannot wait until tomorrow to sleep. I spent too long in the shower (I think I may have actually taken a nap standing up) which threw me more and more behind. Then I went to pack my lunch and hell angels must have broken in and ate all my food, because the plate of grilled chicken, the plate of cooked corn on the cob, the bowl of cheese noodles, 3 loaves of zucchini bread (I just made it Wednesday night) – all gone—just air where they once were- (I actually reached in the fridge and touched the empty shelves to make sure that they had not taken on some camo technique) . So I have a can of soup for lunch. Damn it. Then I did not have time to get my hair completely dry so it is ½ wet and will dry that crazy ‘I got up too late to do anything’ look. Which was cool when I was in my twenties and had a slight wild streak but now that I am a memaw, it just looks nasty. Then Tank is having a car issue, so he had to bring me to work, and Buster, the wonder hound, got all excited and stated freaking out completely with spins and kicks and yipping, so he came with us and got mud all over my clothes so now I am wet from trying to wash them in the bathroom. And it is 8:19.
Okay, 3 people today have asked about the lack of up updates, mainly because when time chunks happen it usually means I am in some phase of disaster.
Really not the case, I think that I am actually punishing myself, not really sure why, but I have not been focused lately. Between the whole GM filing bankruptcy which trickled down to me loosing my dental, vision, and mental health care coverage. (now you do not have to be my best friend to know that I am blind as a bat and heavily dependant on mental health care mood stabilizers- here to fore referred to as 'don't kill the assholes around you' pills)
Then I have missed a loved ones birthday and instead of just apologizing and doing a whole belated birthday thing, i have chosen to try to make the couch a time machine and wish myself back three weeks (not working, still trying). I am aggravated at myself for not being better at my job yet, despite the influx of double the work, and despite the huge complicated foreign customer base, the 8 months i have been doing this are not enough to make me feel any more confident than I did 7 months ago. (Rome was not built in a day, but I am pretty sure it was destroyed in one.)
I have been battling both the cable company and gas company for awhile to no real satisfaction. (they had better hope I can still get those 'don;t kill the assholes around you' pills, because they would be first) I am totally freaked out about money again, (refer again to GM). And my time is not my own, I have my plan and then it does not come to pass, and I get so frustrated that well, I need the pills. Did I mention I had seven cavities filled (they are taking out the old fillings from my childhood that are slowly deteriorating and then replacing with new ones - work that was going to spread over the next two years, and now is being done in one week.)?
Plus, the soldier's wife and kids are going to be here for a week, which means lots of company and lots of work. No stress there.
Oh well, it will all just work out, it always does, but in the mean time, I will just have to cling the fact that the dentist told me I had a little mouth. Yep. Never have I been told that!!! Sweet, a positive item to cling too!!! Stop laughing!
Fat Cat wears glasses with a strap to keep them on because they rest on his hearing aids, that he has to have because he is completely stone deaf and seriously in jeopardy of missing me call him for a meal which he has takes out his fake two teeth that are on a partial plate that resembles a retainer, but drives him nuts when he eats. Before bed he takes off all his hardware, and last night said to me:
Once upon at Time at BJ's (okay - that is just fun to see, giggle giggle) warehouse club, Fat Cat and I stumbled on a stack of remote controlled planet of the ape looking chimpanzee heads. Very frightening human size heads with hair and movable eyes and curling lip. They were $40 and I did not have the money and despite the childlike pleas of Fat Cat I just could not justify a purchase of a big old Screaming decapitated Monkey head. Well a week later, and odd as this is, during Xmas shopping, we saw the same thing - only $200 - in a major department store. Fat Cat started screaming (not unlike the Monkey Head) and demanded that we return to BJ's (giggle giggle) to get one because it was a great deal like he told me. He did see it as a wonderful addition to our Halloween display and it would have been. Had I bought it when we saw it, because we went back to BJ's (giggle giggle) and they were out of Screaming Monkey Heads!!
For over two years when ever i hesitate to make a purchase that is a real 'bargain' I get to hear again how I have ruined our Halloween display because we do not have a Screaming monkey head. In fact on our way to a giant flea market / livestock auction this weekend, I was told how we have to be careful not to have another screaming monkey head incident. We were not there 10 minutes when a Grateful Dead guy in a van with folding tables had.......................................... a screaming Monkey head. I willingly handed off the $20 bucks, well worth not having to get the monkey head lecture and it is truly just about the creepiest thing ever.
I put flowers on the graves for Memorial day, a pleasant NOT task I took over after my mother past. I know a lot of dead people, so I get a lot of flowers. I get the same geraniums in little pots and then pick them up at the end of the holiday. After a fantabulous four day weekend, took off Friday, I went to gather them up and found the ones on one set of my grandparents graves were missing which was odd until I found they were also missing on my other grandmothers. Felt a little creepy. Are times that tough that someone has resorted to stealing plants off graves? I took myself a look around, because frankly, i paid real money for my plants and an eye for an eye and all, the grave yard owes me some freaking flowers. I notice not many potted little plants are left around the cemetery. Obviously it was just not me that had been violated. Ugh. Fortunately when I went to the next cemetery the plants were still intact. But lesson earned. Beautiful little plants need to be actually planted - retraining to get them may no longer be feasible.
Actually we are flashing back to Saturday when we tried to help a Cancer victim and a local merchant only to end up completely mortified.
First we get up and hit the flea market, but on the way we saw, in our little neighborhood a nice little BBQ stand set up (like the kind you see at the fair) and decided when we were done shopping we would stop by for lunch. We had originally planned to stop at a carnival (set up in the grocery store parking lot) but well, sometimes those carnivals teeter to the creepy side, and you just can't be sure you are not going to run into some future stalker or see someone from America's most wanted. And we wanted to support our local economy and this was pretty much a given to be a local group.
So we get our veggies and fruits and ecoli from the flea market and when we get near home, we stop at the stand. We walk up and get a big old view of rather hefty thick woman, which usually is a sign of a good cook, and her four rather big boned teenage assistants. They had sausage sandwiches, ribs, burgers,hot dogs - totally what Fat Cat was ready for!!
We get one of everything (note, we now have both quit smoking and have opted to replace that habit with gorging ourselves) and we ran home to angel's delight with our treasures. Fat Cat opens his sausage sandwich, to find it has just onions on it. Now we have eaten a lot of street vendor sausage sandwiches and never saw just onions on top of a gray sausage. Yuk. To the dogs with that. The coney dog was pretty much canned sauce but Fat Cat ate it. Angel took the cheese burg ate one bite declared it a 'school' burger and sent it off to the dogs. I had a rack of ribs (shut up, they were for all of us to share, I am not that big of a pig) - i could not eat them, they both tried some, and labeled them nasty. This stand gives white trash a bad name- Come on now, this is the food we should be able to whip up greasy good in a buttery hot minute, I am so embarrassed. But that is okay we have a benefit to go to....
So my mother -in-law's brother-in -law, which is my step uncle in law (?) - or what ever, was recently diagnosed with a very fast moving stage 4 lung cancer that has now moved to his bones (Hmm, could this be one of the catalyst for my non-smoking, coincidence, I do not think so), and the camp grounds (okay do not get me started on this nascar breeding white ghetto camp ground, that I loathe, and makes my skin crawl with the out houses and the bugs and he $50K campers) was throwing a benefit spaghetti dinner for him. And of course we are compelled to go, and we want to, he is a wonderful man, and this is horrid and we like spaghetti. We drive the 45 minutes to get to the camp grounds, we drive 5 miles an hour back to the 'club house' to be greeted on our walk in by one of my in law relatives who is now HUGE. (okay, here is the dish on this nightmare woman, she is about 5 years younger than me and always thought herself a really hot little number, and used to hit on my husband and my bother in law - not really related, but none the less, just nasty, she looked down her nose at my simple little self=== from her stipper pole!!!. And now she looks a LOT like Monica from Friends in the fat suit!! OMG, I am sorry to be so vicious but I had myself a good inside chuckle. Not very christian like, my husband said, but sometimes you just have to bask in the fact that in one year, someone who thinks they are all that and a bad of chips, is now the size of all that from eating all the chips! Man it was sweet) I digress sorry, but we get in side and they have run out of spaghetti, so I paid for my little delight by being starved and only having cake to eat, which was really really sweet and sent me into a chatty sugar buzz, and I had to constantly fight myself not to scream in my sugar rage, 'Did you see the size of Lori????' but i didn't spew that out, thank god.
Now it is 9 PM and we are driving home and pull into hardees because i have to have some solid food of some kind today. I get some sort of speciality burger that takes like 6 hours to cook - Rush home and take one bite and realize why we never go to hardees and why if we did we never should go right before they close, because my sandwich was horrible. It just may have been rancid. Yuk. So i ate another piece of cake that my mother in law had sent home with me, and then laid in bed about 2 hours all geaked out and flipping channels like a coke head. When I finally did sleep I was chased by the Goodyear blimp and could not run because my feet were stuck in giant sheet cake, I woke up starving!!!
.... a back yard storage area for things we just may have a use for some day. This is definitely a feature only found here in Kracker Land. And buried in ours in was what was once our water bed. (Yes, we had a water bed, which I fully used up until about a year ago because my husband refused to stop smoking in bed, and since he had caused one near death experience - I was not going to put myself in that danger again- with a water bed, a cigarette gone astray would only end up causing a flood, not cremation.) So there we were real hipsters with our 1970's water bed, that I could not find sheets for anywhere, because no one else in America it seems had one, until I nearly snapped an ankle trying to get out of it one day. It was time - a real bed was next - but Fat Cat loved the frame and put it in our storage pile until he could 'imagine' a use for it. And such an idea he pulled from somewhere, Taking the padding off, but keeping the side boards for a place to sit, while attended his great plan. And so it is, the birth of the veggie bed....
I know this is really lame, but my stupid dogs just totally make me smile. They are basically just fur balls with teenie tiny little brains, but they adore me, unlike no other. They are always waiting for me to get home, always running to jump into my arms, always ready to curl up at night. There was a phase in my children's lives when they looked at me like that, but before I could blink they were teenagers. I do sometimes see glimpses of that look in their eyes, maybe a little yesterday. My husband used to look at me with all that love, hoping up and down, panting to see me. Not so much any more, now hopping up and down would cause him to pant. Now that look is reserved for a big plate food or when he finds candy bars in his cookie jar. But with the dogs, they remain forever in awe. Of course, when they are near me no one else can get close or they will be bitten, and often there is a nasty fight among them for best position next to me in bed. Okay there was a time when the kids fought to get my attention. And then there is the never ending barking. Like my husband basically. ......... OMG, I have replaced my family members with animals! I need help.
I spent my mother's day doing what I love - I went to church with my grandson and Zowie (he was singing a mother's day song and wanted her there so bad, she went - God Bless her for that one, it was totally for her son) Then I made a huge giant crazy big over the top breakfast for my giant family, watched a movie with Angel and my oldest granddaughter, spent some quiet along time with Fat Cat , and played on my computer. It was wonderful. I love having everyone over, I love a big breakfast (it so reminds me of my own mother) , I did not want the day to end.
My granddaughter said it best - as she went out the door-- I love being here, it was great, really nice and loving. She melted my heart. (of course, I pray that she does not tell her mother we sat and watched 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall' which, although hilarious was basically porn - nice, I should probably pay for a year of her therapy later)
Then Soldier pointed out to me that buying my mother in law a 5 foot carved wood alligator (that is also a planter) was kinda rude, and may be misinterpreted as a a reflection of what I think of her. Never thought of that. Great - I just gave her a big old 5 foot insult. This could be awkward.
I have died my hair brown. Only because the natural color is gray, I am tired of being blond, and my daughter likes it brunette. I have really given up on caring what I actually look like. Not that I resemble a bag lady or anything, and I have not abandoned all personal hygiene. But that reflection in the mirror is not me. It is my much much older sister, sort of, kind of resembles my mother, and just may be Aunt Be, but there is no way that old woman is me. I am still like 32, which is about the last time I actually remember seeing myself. I am still wearing those size 5 jeans and still look great in a bikini. That woman needs a mu-mu. I do not know exactly how she got here but it ain't me and it ain't pretty.
There are some gifts that really are just ..... special.... sort of.....
Fat Cat knows a lot of people of rather less than fine moral character, one such person owned what was once an 'after hours' bar. The place closed down for various reason and several unfortunate incarcerations, leaving the supplies to the scavengers.
So from under the bar, slippery with nicotine and dried beer, my Fat Cat pulls forth my Mother's day present.
Now before you completely heave ---- think for a moment, I have an average of 20 people for any holiday, there are at least 8 people in and out of this house on a regular basis, and one hot mother of a summer is on the horizon. And considering the effort to haul it home, sanitize it before it lands in my house, move a sink over to make room to install it, and actually have it up and running within a day is pretty big for Fat Cat.
The ice is amazing, filtered and crystal clear - it is smaller than a dish washer and I love it. How fun is it that I have a freaking stand along ice machine!!!!
Now for the list of those that I shall bestow my blessings. The 8's - as you can see from the post below - require you to become list makers and pass to 8 more. For this I send to those I have followed and those I will be following and need to know so much more, the list will enlighten us! Here are my 8 and they are requested to list 1) 8 Things I'm Looking Forward To 2) 8 Things I did yesterday 3) 8 Things I wish I could do 4) 8 Shows I watch and then send to 8 friends!
I'm suddenly popular! (And there was not even anything nasty involved like when ...... ah, never mind) Seems theMom at Attentive Aphoristfinds me quite entertaining. And re-ramblings hit me with an Eight Ball and now I have to try to do them at least some justice!
Which will not be easy because well, basically am a big old duffus today with some sort of dingbat syndrome that I cannot seem to
To theMom, thank you repeatedly for the award and the shout out,
I am working on my list of recipients and will announce soon. It is
always great to be mentioned in the company of those you know, you do
make me feel honored.
And now to Re-Re. my new BFF, this list is dedicated to you:
8 Things I'm Looking Forward To:
1. The Soldier and His Family coming home this summer
2. Mother's day (okay, I admit it, I like being the center of attention!)
3. Going to the Flower Factory
4. Swimming in the cool pool on a hot day = soon please!
5. Laughing so hard - that I almost pee
6. Quiet time before I fall off to sleep, in about one hour
7. My daughter's wedding
8. My son finding someone to make him happy
8 Things I did yesterday:
1. Got up and did not smoke (I have to praise my self hourly for this)
2. Ate brauts for lunch, I love them, I cannot even explain it, but I could eat them everyday
3. Said prayers for my ex-brother-in-law, who is struggling now I am sure
4.. Got home and cleaned house, hate doing it, gotta do it
5. Took the cover off the pool with the family
6. Did not scream at Fat Cat when he criticized my pool cover removing technique
4. Made 5 dozen spectacular chocolate covered strawberries to take to work
5. Ran to the store with Fat Cat, to ponder whether we really need to buy more summer outdoor stuff
6. Did not kill Fat Cat for buying more summer stuff
7. Punished Fat Cat by making him make his own dinner (cereal - fruit loops)
8. Scooped up my little fat dog and cuddled with him
8 Things I wish I could do:
1. Sing (stole this from ReRe, it is a good one!)
2. Hit the lotto
3. Retire early and do nothing (or be Fat Cat, either one)
4. Give my daughter the wedding of her dreams
5. See a whale swim in the ocean
6. Put money away for my grandchildren's college
7. Go to Disney
8. Walk on the Great Wall
(I could really make this a long long list!!!)
8 Shows I watch: 1.Anything on Bravo! (Real Housewives, Millionaire Matchmaker, etc.) Also stolen from ReRe again! Because it is a great answer!
2. Lie to Me
3. Criminal Minds
4. The Naked Archaeologist
5. Nancy Grace
6. Chelsea Lately
7. City Confidential
8. Forensic Files
(I look at this list and realize I really need to go back to therapy!!)
I have thought entirely too much, I have to crash!
"Give me the remote I am tired of seeing all these mom's killing their tots, what the hell? They are killing them when they are still cute, now if they were killing their adult kids I would say let them go, I understand that. I want to thin the herd myself, but when they are little? What the f&^*&&? They should just fry 'em. Give me the remote, I want to watch war or something."--- More wisdom from Fat Cat
Somehow I convinced myself that last night was Thursday and that today was Friday. Unfortunately, I did not come out of this fantasy until this morning when I was getting ready for work and the TV told me what day it was. I have been crying since then. Welcome to Thursday.
So yesterday i get a call from Zowie freaking out because her daughter was rear ended on the way home from high school. She was at the emergency room and on the verge of a break down. Both of them actually. She just wanted to come home and be taken care of. Both of them. So I said sure, come to the house we can have dinner and you guys can relax. I called Fat Cat - to warn him of the impending horde arrival - and who answers? Number One! He was there having something to eat. (note, the sudden visits of Number One to our house coincides with his upcoming birthday, hmmm, coincidence, I think not)
Now I cook a lot on Sunday to get us through the week, and prep/plan my meals for the week. The kids are not unaware of this, and if they arrive hungry, it will more than likely be a Sunday or Monday, when the options are many and the bounty plentiful.
So I am calculating in my head and know that there is probably not enough side dishes now, what all i can make. I get home, and start spaghetti, which is always a favorite and I have meat thawed so that should be easy. I am still in my work clothes when they begin the grazing. I had a 7 lbs pork roast, about 8 ears of roasted corn, 6 roasted nut cracker potatoes (very good and neat trick I will tell you about some day) left over from Sunday dinner, one pound of spaghetti, sauce with beef , a big salad, a veggie plate and of course bread and butter.
With Number one, Zowie and her 4 kids, me, Fat Cat, Tank, and Sasquatch (who was helping Tank with his jeep and is always always welcome for dinner) me and Fat Cat, I was down to one ear of corn, (note, zowie had to come back to pick up the grandson, and had him run in and get the last ear of corn, 'to go' I told her this was not Pop-eyes, there was no 'to go' but wrapped it up for her!)no potatoes, one lunch Tupperware full of left over spaghetti, possible 4 pounds of pork, no salad, and a big dent in my fresh fruit (forgot to mention i had cut up a pineapple and a watermelon). Then poor Angel comes home from work at 8 and a little hungry......
So I have huge guilt and offer her bacon cheese burgers, which she loves. The bacon draws in Tank and Fat Cat like truffle sniffing pigs. I made 6 burger patties, one pound of bacon, and lots of cheese. By 9:30 it was gone. All gone.
Tonight, we got carry out. Just me and Fat Cat, and I had no other food thawed / prepped to cook! We ate a weeks worth of groceries in a night! Damn, maybe it was Pop-eyes!
So I am on the phone with one of my girlfriends and I smell some thing like lighter fluid. I look out side and see Fat Cat squirting lighter fluid all over the charcoal in the middle of a very windy day in preparation for dinner and the giant pork roast I bought.
I am chatting away when I hear WHOOSH followed by a high pitched girlish scream.
I look out the window just in time to see my husband (and i mean that in the nicest way) who at one time had six pack abs and bulging biceps, now trying to put out the chest hair ablaze on his arm and man boobs (and I mean that in the nicest way). Still with the cigarette in his mouth - probably what stopped him from 'stop drop and roll' as he should be doing.
"Oh my God, do you want me to let you go? " my friend said.
"Fat Cat, did you get your self put out? (and I mean that in the nicest way)"
"Ok, he got himself out this time, so we are okay. That roast better not taste like hair."
Fat Cat has his front porch all ready for the summer, with fresh cushions on the chairs mowed all neat with weed and feed abundant. Angel found a great big tiki head fire pit which we had to buy to complete the backyard theme. Of course the 3 grills are up and ready, and if it were not for the wind the umbrellas would be up and the bar rocking. The grandson was here - and as we sat by the flaming tiki head last night -
"You have a mullet yard."
"It is all neat and business in the front and total party in the back."
Angel and I decided to play tennis again. Maybe not the best thing to do after working all day and having aggravatedcarpal tunnel. Basically I was hitting the ball NOT, and spent most of my time chasing the ball and then handing it to her because serving hurts my arm. So I was fetching the ball. That is until Angel nearly impaled herself on the net tightener handle. We went home not long after that. Tennis is hard.
I am not doing well today. My habit is haunting me, peaking around the corners, suddenly making me aware of what I am NOT doing. I really have not been bad, not screaming at my loved ones nor stomping my pets but it is there. So I am trying to think of things that I have done sans nicotine that should make me happy and prove to myself, I really really can do it this time.
Here are my top ten things:
1. Went to lunch with my best friend and had conversation without thinking every two seconds that I need a smoke. 2. Talked my son and daughter in law out of a complete freak out, (my son is facing knee surgery again and may be discharged from the army if things do not go right, and they are talking about moving here, not just this city, but this house! Lord almighty this is probably cause for a melt down) but I did not jump off the phone because I was craving so bad. (the phone is probably the hardest) 3. Actually put on my make up and dried my hair without wrestling the burning ember - dropping it on the floor, or a dog, or my own foot, causing a mark, or burnt hair, or pain. 4. I have made it back and forth to work - alone in the car- where no one would really ever know--without creating a huge billowing cloud of smoke or causing a wreck as drive at 90 to the circle K for a pack of puffs. 5. I went to a woman's group meeting to surround myself with non-smokers and people who did not ever know me as the chimney I was - and did not have to prove how disgusting I am by smoking 6. Still cannot leave at lunch as that is too inviting, but have managed to not empty the vending machines of all the delicious treats. 7. Managed to sit next to Fat Cat, or Smokin-stein as he may be now named, as he chain smoked while watching TV and did not take a loaded gun and light him up (you have no idea how much restraint this took) or just grab one and smoke it myself (you have no idea how much restraint THIS took) 8. Watched my grandson race, while sitting beside his other grandma, who was bragging to my husband how she only received probation and will not have to do time on her meth bust. 9. Played tennis with my daughter, first time picking up a racket since 1978, scared to death I would humiliate myself (which would not be too bad) more afraid I would humiliate my daughter and she would refuse to be seen with me ever again
And the final item on my fun with smoke free me list--
10. Actually being able to pick up my computer and surf with out sucking a fag (that is UK slang for a cig, you freaking sick-o!)
I have some sort of snack tray phobia, not so much the actual tray but folding it back up. It is a bi-fold fear, like the stupid engineering treachery device legs. A) I am afraid I am going to grab the the wrong one, force it closed, break the thing into a million pieces, thereby ruining any chance I have to eat in front of the TV again in my entire life and might have well thrown the $20 I spent at Walmart down the toilet. and B) that I may pinch my finger or fingers in the legs while closing it, and either have to wear a snack tray on my hand the rest of my life, thereby ruining my career as a ninja, or losing a digit, which of course would be the middle one and hampering my driving capabilities tremendously. Or worse yet, just barely pinching it and getting one of those weird looking blood blisters that seem to freak out people because they look like a big old bubonic plague boil. Sometimes I just resort to balancing a bowl of cereal on my knees, and fighting off the stupid dogs with one hand, rather than wrestle the TV tray. Or I could eat at the table.
Fat Cat did the dishes all up today, as a way to make up for the shitty attitude yesterday. Didn't work. Shitty attitude is contagious - I got it now.
Easter was utterly great, Number One showed up with family for a cameo appearance. Food was spot on, thank you, all 19 eaters were fat and sassy. And my brother in law was absolutely thrilled with is birthday presents. (I did a "Golden Child" theme, that include a cake with "The Golden Child" on it, 10 gifts wrapped in all different arrangements of gold wrappings, with these notes about "the golden child" with comments from his brother that were, I have to say, freaking hilarious even though they were actually written by me just in his colorful yet profane way.) I love when I get it right. Does not happen that often so I am patting my own back.
Sasquatch showed up - surprising Angel who was prepared to spend the say sans date. He had the most beautiful flowers I ever saw and made my baby light up like a pumpkin on Halloween. He is pretty good that big old Yettie.
Tank has been all talky lately and I am loving that also. My family is amazing and wonderful, too bad Fat Cat cannot see the beauty of it all.
What is a parent supposed to do? If a woman Sunday school teacher can murder a child there is no safe place. This just sickens me. The mother of this child will forever be in my heart. Her and her child are the most innocent victims I could ever imagine.
Lord Knows I cannot have a holiday without planning too much for myself and overdoing it. I am sure there is some disorder that I could take a pill and stop spinning myself into a fit, but I have no idea what it would be, because the sickness is entirely wrapped up in the holiday. First it is tax time, and I of course wait until the last minute, because I hate it and use avoidance to resolve that hate. Now I am completely stressed over it. We have Easter, which up until Fat Cat decided to retire, I always used as a gift giving, basket making, over spending, creativity testing, themed holiday. Since then I have dreaded it because I have not done anything. The benefit I now see is that those who only attended for the gifts (I will let you guess as to those parties) have respectively declined the dinner invitation. Weeding (no pun intended) out the true believers so to speak, leaving me with people that really just want to be here. So this year I have decided to reward them with a little creative holiday treat. It should be cute, and if it works well I will pass on the (ingenious) idea. Then there is the actual dinner, which is hard to judge on the quantity, because I have a fluid guest list, of those that 'think' they will be here, and those that 'might not eat' because they have other stops to make. I have revamped my menu at least twice, shopped twice, still do not have all I need, and will either have way too much or not enough. What ever. (please note, I should be making stuff right now in preparation, but I am sitting on the couch, ha ha, yes, I will be spazzing about 4 today!) In the mean time it is also my brother in law's birthday. Now this is tough. What do you buy the person who can buy themselves anything, and does, they want? You can't do it. So what then do you do when you have creativity exhausted all ideas? But know that you have to so something great, because you do love him with all of your heart, and you want to give him at least of all a memory that may top, the home made quilt you did, the Mexican theme that was fantastic, the entertainment package, which is still brought up because it was a huge huge hit. So I have a plan - and I am very excited - but it is a little involved, and overwhelming, and of course too much.
I took the day off to work on all of these things, and am still sitting on the couch not doing anything because I am a bum and tired. Did I mention I have also decided to quit smoking - again? great timing, and really not helping! I am already plotting a way to not quit, what an addict! but I am down to 4 a day which is huge!
No pressure today, I just have to clean my entire house and fix a meal for 15 and get my projects done, and finish my taxes, ...... I think I need to eat, and what is this show -- maybe I will start after I watch this.......
They are grown these kids of mine, but for those few hours last night they were 12 years old again. I turned back time with 6 dozen eggs and 4 varieties of egg dying magic. The best 10 bucks I have ever spent - $.99 a dozen eggs and clearance dyes with stickers (Camo ones, slightly lame I have to admit), hats (kind of like Santa hats, just a little bizarre - yellow not red but with white trim), Marble (these are a difficult for adults, but about every 5 years PAAS pulls me in because I forget the level of work involved) , and glitter (Damn you PAAS, you fool me on this one too, messy and sticks to everything, In fact this morning I asked Tank if he was too close to a dancer or if he was dying eggs.). George, the grandson I have spent the most of my time lately, joined in our fun, and he was in awe of men (as in Uncle Tank and Uncle Sasquatch) dying eggs like kids. It was not a kid thing to do, it was suddenly fun and cool. I love that these adults still can be children. I love that I really can turn back time. (even to the point there was a slight altercation of who's egg was in the green) It was wonderful
I have been completely a mess the last few days. As the newest person in my department I thought for sure it would be me, but no they hit my boss. And today I find out I get about 2/3 of the accounts he handled added to my already overwhelming work load. The thought of it had me paralized all day, I could not get much done at all. So I ended up with some sort of god awful heart burn all day that had me near tears and racing home to an empty bottle of Rolaids. (G&^*&^*& D&&^% Fat Cat) Resorted to baking soda in water. That is how desperate of a situation it was. I am thankful I still have my job, I am scared to death someone is going to find out I have no clue what I am doing.
I have only been in a panic all week waiting for this exam, and I was spazzing so bad on the way there I gave Fat Cat the wrong directions, got lost and of course screamed at him for not helping me at all. Get there - get my boob pressed like a crepe when I notice a spatula atop the machine. I cannot help myself and ask if they use that to smack the bad patients. They have no humor there. I still have no clue what the spatula was for, one of life's little mysteries. So I had to wait while they processed the latest of the films and called me back in. Well, it seems that the 'mass' is watery fat. Thanks Doc, for pointing out that I have gained so much weight since I had this done, that my test from then and now were drastically different. Great. I have been freaked out all week, because well, I am fat. Fat Cat is very amused. F^%^%&ing doctors.
While I was in my bed for the last few days trying to keep the reaper off of me, Fat Cat could not handle two little Pomeranians all on his own. Could not do it. He decided to get collars to curb their incessant barking. Which, i know does not sound very humane, but they will not stop barking and when laying with me in bed, they will not let anyone, ANYONE come near me. It was killing me and driving Fat Cat to the point of Kanin-iside. So he get the collars on the dogs. Now, what they do is emit a sound that is so high pitched only they can hear it when they bark. And it annoys them to the point that they quit barking after one or two barks. seems like a good idea, until the first couple of incidents when the sound that only dogs can hear, hits Fat Cat directly in his hearing aids and drives him to the floor in a blood curdling scream writhing about like a vampire hit by sunlight. So now instead of repeating barking from two dogs we have barks and screams. I am hoping it trains all of them to shut up and stop bothering me!!! It won't but it is very entertaining!
Do you know what is worse than getting a hair cut that is too short? So short that the fact you have a freakish small head now becomes painfully obvious and will surely mark you for ridiculeamong friends and co-workers if you do not quickly learn to manage it with hair product? So short that you just may be mistaken for a gym teacher or golf pro?
Well that could be getting a call from Zowie telling me that my favorite grandson is getting in huge trouble at school, and is showing signs of aggression and frustrations that are now causing expulsion and suspensions. So Fat Cat freaks out and determines that we need to get that boy over here and let him get that aggression out riding and running. So what is worse than Fat Cat buying a mini bike that he cannot afford so he can 'help' this young man?
Could be finding out that your cousin (on your father's side) murdered his wife and then killed himself? Oh, yes, that is worse. And you are at work when you hear and you cannot believe it so you call his mother and she bursts into tears. You spend several evenings going to their house and letting his parents talk, because listening with compassion is your strength and all you really can give them. Your heart breaks seeing their pain and your stomach turns as they go over and over the details because no one else will talk to them about it. And you bake cakes and fudge and treats and take them with you because you are channelling your mother and all you can do to comfort them. They are in such shock and there could not be much worse that could happen.
Unless in the middle of all this you get some sort of viral infection that makes your ears feel as if they are bleeding and lowers your voice about 3 octaves to where you sound like a man, a scary cigar smoking whisky drinking man. (with terribly short man hair, OMG, I am turning into a guy) And you are trying to work and worry and think and be compassionate, and you are starting to fade fast in to the abyss of Niquil. And you think, my good, could this be any more horrific of a week?
And then you get a call, from your doctor, at work of course, that you mammogram is not right and there is something there, and you now have to go back for an ultrasound, and possible biopsy. And yes this is worse, and of course, your mind goes into a complete melt down because, well, you are high on cold medications and you have seen all those life time channel movies, and you know you have been having pain. Which is why you went in the first place, because there was something going on. Sweet Jesus great news this is.
So I have seriously stopped asking could it get worse. In the last 10 days I have just been spinning out of control. Miss me????
The Octo-Mom situation is still making me nuts. I think the Doctor who impregnated her needs to be sued for child support of these 8 kids. He got her pregnant, I don't care if it was with a turkey baster. In my opinion, if you willingly knock up a crazy woman who can't afford the child, she has the right to get support from you. Let him pay for their care, he was careless with his seed.
Obsessed I am with finding actual vanilla beans this weekend. Not exactly as easy as you would think. I just get these ideas in my head and I freak out completely until I can put out the flaming idea. Well, now I am off and running on god dang vanilla beans and have traveled from Gourmet store to hippie central to whole food organic f-ing warehouse. Because I must have vanilla beans now I tell you , now. I found some but a little too natural as they had fur, and I am reasonably sure that vanilla beans do not have fur despite the swearing on a bible of one of the Manson family who was helping me find my way. I found some others at one gourmet Mecca but at $5 per, I decided to continue my search for the economical vanilla bean. While searching Fat Cat was not grasping the concept of my search. “why don’t you just buy some in a jar or something?” “Because I want to make a special extract.” “Don’t you have some at home?” “No, I’m out, I used the last that your brother brought me from his last cruise.” “what does he do steal the packets of the tables?” “what are you talking about?” “Packets of vanilla from the tables on the ship.” “Why would there be packets of vanilla on the table” “Well, what else would he be stealing?” “I do not think he steals the vanilla, he buys it for me, in Mexico.” “ In little packets?” “THERE ARE NO SUCH THINGS AS PACKETS OF VANILLA.“ “You don’t know that.” No, I do not know that. But if there are packets of arsenic I am going to find them.
1. I was on a complete roll at work, email directly through lunch, processing and progressing = then bam, out go the lights and I am sitting in my cube in the pitch black. No power from 1 until 3:45, internal panic over what I wanted to be doing - actual work, but instead I did nothing all afternoon.
2. The lack of work all afternoon gave me time to dwell, on the day, my life, my marriage, my violently rumbling stomach that seems to be having a negative reaction to the stress. I want to go to the Ash Wednesday service tonight, but instead I am seriously considering getting drunk and saying F it all.
3. The power comes up just in time for me to get to the bathroom, also in the nick of time.
4. I decide to go home and celebrate my mothers birthday with a little wine, but I get home and my husband is already 1/2 way through a bottle of rum and wants to talk.
5. I inform my husband that I am sick of his self pity and negative attitude and I am sick to death of being sad then he takes his meds and passes out. Then I decide to completely feel sorry for myself and just cry, I cannot stop - there is part of me that is crying for every thing, my family, my mother, my life. I cannot even have a drink and I am such a mess I cannot go to church. (I guess I got a lot of whine! )
6. It is my mother's birthday, I pull her ashes from my closet and weep for her. Sob that I am the only person on the planet that mourns her still. I miss my family. Then the phone rings and it is my niece and one again she has managed to call me at the moment I am low, she wraps me up in my mother's voice and laugh. She again is there for me and I realize that my mother lives through her, and her uncanny ability to know when my heart aches.
7. I hang up the phone and I stand alone in my quiet house, then there was a knock at the door. My granddaughter and her boyfriend arrive, she needs to practice in my car for her drivers test on Friday and as I sat beside her and looked at her. It was just one of those moments that you have to just freeze in your mind and hold forever. She was so beautiful and in that moment I knew I am never alone, this sweet child and so many others completely fill my heart and my life.
Ok, not an Academy Award but an award none the less, and since lately I have been rewarding myself with candy bars and cookies, this has got to better! I received it from themom, and I adore her for it!
"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”
Since I have not 8 blogs that I 'follow' nor 8 blogger friends some of these are just drafted because I have found them interesting. I have several blogs I follow but they may not be aware, they will be now:
While I was at church working on my GPS ( God Positioning System, I am so funny aren't I? I also had this thought that we should call vanity plates, text plates, because they were our first Text Messages, or maybe text should be call vanities? It was early and my mind was also straying) Fat Cat was busy apparently routing through neighborhood trash.
He found a 1960's style end table that he now has cleaned up and put beside his chair in my family room - which matches nothing and looks ridiculous. Then he took a chair that probably was bought at the same time as the table and sat beside it in someones house since 1965. It has gold padding if that is a clue. Now Fat Cat has decided that it will be the perfect chair for his spot at the dinning room table. OMG. Now it is a LIVING ROOM chair and since it is too short for the table, that presents a problem. But not for Fat Cat. While I grocery shopped, did laundry, watched a movie on and off, Fat Cat found some PVC (white mind you) pipe that would give him the 8 inches more than he wanted for each leg. He whittled (yeah, that's right, whittled) the 4 legs down to the fit in the pipe, which he then puttered with them, gluing and screwing them until he got them all even (it took several tries and he lost about an inch of height) Then he spray painted them brown - did I mention he did not open any windows and the paint fumes were awful? He also keeps spraying the thing with room freshener, because, well it smells like a wet basement and a little like cat pee. Then he realized he now needs bracing, more pipe, more screwing, and then auto bondo (you know the stuff they use to fix car dents and cracks? that stinks and needs to be only used in a well ventilated area, not a dining room- in a house- in Ohio- in the winter.) Fortunately he had used up all the brown spray paint on the leg extensions, so I was spared any more of that smell. Even the dogs were choking and all i thought was if one of those pups drops dead I am running out the door.
He spent hours working on it. Really hours. I made dinner and he was all excited about sitting in his basement smelling, extended leg, white PVC braced, nailed up, gold, bondo'ed, cat pee chair. So excited, that about 1/2 way through the meal he chokes (on the smell or the food, doesn't matter) and pukes up like Vesuvius all over the table, my plate, and of course, the chair. I just got up and scrapped my plate into the trash and pitched him a towel. The day had started out so sweetly.
1. It snowed and my defroster seems not to be working = I am sure that will not be a problem in Ohio in February 2. Tank got home from cop-job at 2 am, and left his loaded pistol just hanging in his room = I am sure that will not be a problem in this lunatic asylum 3. I worked my ass off and feed my family pizza for dinner because I did not feel like actually making the chicken that is defrosting in my fridge - I am sure that the chicken blood oozing from the freezer bag will not cause any problems 4. Fat Cat sleep all day- I am sure that is not a a sign of any impending problems 5. I cannot find Angel's W2 - not a problem for me, but may be for her 6. My dogs are fighting constantly all evening, as I dream of an apartment that does not allow pets. 7. Tomorrow is payday and I still have money in my purse -although some would consider that not a problem, I can tell you that could very well mean I have forgotten to pay for something, or get something, or do something that I should have, so that is a problem looming in the background
But on a positive note, my friend and I are having Chinese for lunch tomorrow and I am going to see my oldest (ouch, not oldest, longest, major friend faupax there) friend this weekend. So it is all good. I cannot wait.
I spent all day with customers and my mind is shot, a person can only be so clever and witty in one day without completely wearing themselves out. I made some clever comments and chatted and blah blah blah. My umbrella did a flip on the way to my car, I was drenched before I got in. I came home to a cop siting at my dining room table, (Tank, ha ha, got you! ) and Fat Cat spinning out of control because he has lost his wallet. I watched him spaz out completely, run about the house, then run outside, in the rain, looking looking looking. Tank just shrugged and went to work. I watched Fat Cat drive himself into a near breakdown before I decided to help him. I found it, of which I had no doubt. Goofy bastard. And all I keep thinking about today is the man killing chimp and how totally ridiculous it is to have a 200 pound wild animal living in your house that could possibly kill you, (although Fat Cat comes dangerously close to this description) and then does attack your friend - what the heck were they thinking, and I am sorry, but monkeys are disgusting enough encased in a zoo (again, this may also remind me of someone) without living with one! And imagine being attacked a primate?? Then I hear the owner gave the thing Xanax, my God, I do not even give that to Fat Cat and I could, and sometimes gladly. But then again I am tired and my head is filled raging screaming monkeys.
That will be tomorrows headline, because the massive amount of popcorn that I ate yesterday has prevented me from eating anything at all yesterday, and so far today, because if I take anything in I am going to vomit --- still. I never want to smell it again, taste it or, God strike me dead, eat it. I woke up three times last night in agony as it coagulates in my stomach and devours me from the inside out. If something happens, please form a class action suit against the theatre. This is just an outrage, as if the native Americans have struck revenge at last upon my ancestors. (I have only felt this way only once before and it involved Tequila and to this day i will visible gag when I catch whiff of it.)
On a positive note, Tank may have his Jeep completed finally and I may just get my car back, which means that I will have some freedom back and will soon be back on the road!!!!!! If I live long enough.
I am actually throwing up a little. Fat Cat is desperately trying to make today special and while he slept until 1 and I did like a lot lot lot of laundry which i guess is pretty special. Then I made Angel and I chicken sandwiches with sliced fresh avacado which was special. To make the day special Fat Cat had bought tickets to a movie at 3:00, so I woke him up - Movie was my pick, okay I like action movies. I know I am not very girlish but I like movies with mega action and mega killing and mega mystery and suspense. So I picked Taken, and he had tickets ahead of time and we get the movies a little early, the ride there was not very comfortable, because the whole time I am thinking about how irritated I am at him still, and he is trying to make conversation. So he wants to buy me popcorn and that of course will surely make it all better, and he gets the 'deal' which is like a bucket of corn, bigger than the Colonel and his bucket of chicken, and two giant drinks that require special straws the size of like down spouts and I feel like a little kid because my hands barely can hold it. I continue to eat it all through the movie, which was great, and I only yelled out loud once, (which is pretty good for me, because I get all into it and yell at the screen sometimes, ok, all the time) and before I know it I have eaten almost all of it, and feel as if I may just completely wet myself because of the amount of soda I have just consumed. and I am all greasy because of the butter. When the movie ends I cannot get out fast enough because I may pee right there, and I thank heavens that I did not pick a comedy. Happy freaking valentines day, I could not even go to dinner
The Templers are haunting me today. Starts with a completely flat tire. Worse for Tank who was forced to change it. Then a meeting that went all the wrong direction and I was left confused and bewildered, it was my meeting, what a F$%^&&ing loser. Then I get a call from the gatehouse that I have a delivery and I knew it was coming, I had a call from a florist earlier at work asking for our address. Kind of a big clue. So Fat Cat sent me a dozen long stemmed lavender roses with a big bow and balloon, because 12 roses easily makes up for the last 12 months he has been trying to make me slice my own throat open, pour salt down it, and then gurgle screams through the blood. I did call to thank him it was a nice gesture, and not the one he had been waving at me a couple weeks ago, nor the one I have been waiving at him - when he is not looking. He asked me if I liked the candy, when I told them there was no candy he hung up on me. Then the gate house calls again, and I go pick up a big old chocolate filled heart and another dozen roses, because I guess I was not over it yet, and another dozen would surely melt my heart. Actually I felt a little like the episode of Friends where Ross sends Rachel a billion things including a big lady bug and a singing barbershop quartet. I get that he is trying, I just do not feel the same way I used to. Maybe it is because I have to wear shoes now, that is making my life miserable.
My son is 25, is a police officer now, has saved a live, has a wonderful memory, is both mechanical and creative, yet when he can’t find something he calls me – at work. You know why? Not because the uterus is a homing devise, because I am the only one that puts anything away and therefore I know where everything is. I hate that.
So I have not been able to eat because I have to have blood work done, and I of course wake up completely starved to death and almost shaky. Any other day I would not be able to even think of eating until about 10 but not today. I am now all edgy and grumpy and hurrying to get to the lab before my scheduled gyno exam. Trying to figure out how to smuggle a cookie or something into that office and eat it, even if I have to do so during the actual exam itself, I mean that should not interfere with it at all. And while I am plotting and planning for a cookie, I cannot get my stupid brand new gloves on. And I realize I am obviously delirious from hunger, and stop and try to get my fingers in their designated holes, but they are shown shut! For heaven sake, those eight year old Chinese kids are really getting sloppy.
I abandon that whole effort, and realize the vast amount of time I used up trying to get my gloves on, has not forced me to go to the gyno first, then to the blood work, and robbing me of my cookie while my feet are in the stirrups experience. Great. I get in the car, which by the way has about enough gas to get me to the gyno and 1/2 way home, thanks Tank. I race to the office, fill out the forms, get weighed (how the F do you gain two pounds since Friday???) realize I put on a pair of socks that have a hole in the heel. Now I am freaking out about that hoping that the doctor does not judge me, because i really so have nice socks, I was just trying to match, because not matching would be worse judging, and now i have a tiny hole. (I just realized how funny that sentence is in the context of the doctor's view of the hole.) Okay, enough of that, I get dressed, and wonder around the office until I find my way out, and over to the lab. I actually pass a subway and think they have cookies but having one in the car would be too tempting.
So they get my blood, ask me if I am on blood thinners, which is odd. Then I have to give a urine sample, and I thank heavens I had not snuck a cookie in here, because you cannot do that and eat a cookie.
Now that is done and I have to head for the mammogram office, and time is tight, so I go their fist, no cookie yet, and they explain they cannot do it now. I look around and I see no one in the office.
Are you too busy?, I ask. No you just have to make an appointment. Can I make one now? No, you have to make it through the appointment center. I get out my phone, I ask for the number. You cannot use the cell phone in here. They call and hand me the phone. I need to make an appointment. When can you come in? I am here now. We do not have any appointments available. There is no one here.
Great. I have to make it for my next day off, because apparently woman that work have to have mammograms on a days vacation, or not at all. Boobs are seemingly too busy on the weekends to be available for such things. I told them all not to work too hard. They gave me a pink breast cancer pen. I would rather have had the mammogram or a cookie.
Now I have just about enough time to get something to eat, before the foot doctor. So I go to the mall which is freakishly packed and I have to drive up and down the aisles to find a spot that i can maneuver into, which is not easy because I have no depth perception anyway and I am starting to black out from lack of food. I stumble into the food court and go to the only booth without a line, fish and chips. No cookies, but a meal - which by the way is all deep fried and violently hit my empty stomach like a live porcupine. Now I am sick, head achey, weak, and limping on my sore foot.
I get to the foot doctor, and begin filling out the paperwork, there is a question that is unusual, 'what name do you prefer to be called?' I put, the amazing Zelda. I would prefer to be called that. It seemed cool. The receptionist, a perfectly groomed young man, found it hilarious, which has endeared him to me forever. I realize I do not have a cookie yet, but I have had a laugh and that is all good. So he leads the Amazing Zelda back to the room and in comes the Doctor, (who was at the nursing home all morning -so my 50 year old feet probably did not look so bad and I had slipped my shoes off while waiting so they did not have their usual stench) he too was very well groomed and may be getting his braces off soon (kidding, he probably had them off at least a year) he looks at my chart and talks to me for a minute. I told him I had explained to the primary doctor that my heel was killing me, then they took an x-ray and then called me and told me it was a fracture. Seems that the fracture though is not in my heel but three of my toes, and are really old fractures. If they would have told me that it was my toes I would have not bothered with the foot doctor, because I break them so often I am really not sure they are still attached. How embarrassing, I have been telling anyone who will listen that I have a fractured heel? No I do not. I have a fracture in my communication and lisening skills and did not get that heel pain and an X-ray does not a fractured heel make. So what is wrong with my heel? I am a freaking bear foot hillbilly and my high arches are pulling the tendons. I have to get running shoes and wear them. The Amazing Zelda is not happy.
I hobble from the office, rather disgruntled. But I think with two new friends! I leave, on my way to my next appointment, now to the get some assistance with the rest of my problems, I have been poked and prodded not nearly enough. I did not get the answers I was hoping for, nor the advice I really wanted. But I have now set a goal to save enough to make things happen for myself. I will work with my budget and get a second job if I have to but 2010 is not going to be as frustrating as this year.
There will be cookies for the Amazing Zelda one way or another.
So I did practically nothing yesterday still numb from my Doctor appointment and the other, not getting some good news any direction. I went to the grocery store, etc, which just made my foot hurt. Butterfly and Bo Peep showed up because it was Fat Cat's birthday. I usually have a gala celebration, but that is not going to happen - I think everyone was aware of that. So they took him out to lunch, and gave him some 'Party Supplies' (I am 'white trash', while partying with your daughters is perfectly acceptable behavior) They stayed an hour, maybe, and left, but he got his party stuff so he was all happy. Then my MIL and Brother in law were taking us all out to dinner for his birthday, I went, not to celebrate his birthday, but I wanted to make sure Angel and Sasquatch had an opportunity to talk to my brother in law, in hopes he may help get Sasquatch a new job. Fat Cat was short fused most of the night because it was crowded and not the place he would have choose but he was not paying. (Then my toilet broke, sweet, you just love to reach in the tank to flush, no body is going to do that - got to get that fixed!!!) Tank ran around all day getting the rest of his uniform ready for his job as Dudley Do Right. He also moved his TV home, and everyone is acting as if all is okay, accept for me, I am a constant angry bitch to be honest.
Today, Fat Cat has literally slept all day, all day, which of course is not something one would do without a hand full of sedatives. I am of course sans vehicle, so I puttered all day. I have made:
3 loaves of banana bread, (i bought a bag of nearly rotten bananas for $1 and I had all the general stuff already) Chicken Salad with grapes (also bought a bag of chicken legs, $5.00 for 10 pounds, we will have chicken this week, over and over again!) A pot of homemade noodles with .... chicken and now a lemon meringue pie from scratch because i have a pie crust I had thawed and had to use up. Fixed the toilet (not in order of actual accomplishment - and Tank helped) Did two loads of laundry and put it away, which is in my opinion the worst part of it, Did two loads of dishes Read all my favorite blogs Went to church, felt great, the guy behind me sang really loud and really well, it was fun, I think I am going to get involved in something, the food pantry may be a good way or bake sales, I need to put my nervous energy to use. Made a pitcher of brewed iced tea And worried about my stupid foot.
Tomorrow is jam packed, I actually have 3 appointments and since Friday's went so well, I just can't wait!!!
So I go to the doctor this morning for just a check up, nothing special, routine, get blood work done, yaddayaddayadda. And I mention that my foot has been bothering me at night or if I walk too much on it. I was not even going to say anything but I had pretty much convinced myself I had gout. Which was totally freaking me out because I may have to give up rich foods, and I do have a love of butter, and I was afraid it was going to blow up and look like a fake foot or something. So i casually mentioned it, and he casually poked it, and I casually pulled myself off the ceiling, and he says he thought it may be a bone spur. Now that even sounds more like an old person than gout, and I did not want to have that, so off to X-ray. I get home and Angel and I go to the mall (okay we bought some stuff for the wedding and I almost cried a little, thinking that with bone spurs and all I may not live to see it, and I got all emotional and could only be calmed down with a mall Stromboli - which I am free to eat now, because it is not gout) We are not home long when the office calls, and the nurse is a little freaked out herself, because well, my heel is fractured and I have to get to either the emergency room or the podiatrist ASAP. So I call the foot guy and he is all freaked out as he is getting my records over the fax as I am talking to him, and wants to know if I need pain meds. Which I really do not need, because I have been walking around like this since Thanksgiving!! what is two more days. So I am going in Monday to have this problem resolved. And now that I know it is fractured, it hurts like hell. I have been gone all day and have not had to deal with Fat Cat, because he makes me so angry my broken foot hurts even more!!!!!!!
1. Wake up late (dreaming I was in a bank and the alarm was going off and I thought it was being robbed but no one else seemed to be able to hear it) and jump out of bed and right into a pile of fresh dog poo (seems the 20 minutes i choose to sleep through created a little issue for Buster) 2. Come down stairs after cleaning foot, dogs will not go out. Obviously they do not have to and I do not have time to deal with them. 3. Decide I do not have time to wash my hair, so I will wear it up - which because I have a dandruff issue will mean light colored clothing, so a gray suit is chosen. Then, because I am obviously 12 years old, I squirt make up all over the jacket. WTF? Now I have to change the jacket, because I do not have time to completely change, and of course, nothing else will work but black. Great. Now I have a black jacket that is going to show any wayward flake and I do not really match which is going to make me fashion compulsive all day. 4 So I am in hurry up mode, and I get my son up to take me to work, so he can have my car all day, and he is not in hurry up mode. I start getting stomach pains and am suddenly struck with some sort of violent acid attack. 5. I get to work just in time and realize that I did not pack a soda, i go to the work fridge and get the one from yesterday which is of course flat. Mmmmm delicious. 6 I get my breakfast out, which is a buttered biscuit with jelly, and goobered a splotch onto my suit. now I am a complete hot mess. 7. I get a call my crazed husband is on the way back from MO, and wants to talk it out. Okay, if that was all it was going to take, i would have done that. Duh?? 8. Make breakfast for dinner, and the bacon eats a hole in my stomach - I am pretty sure it may be a bleeding ulcer. 9. Find out my computer has been attacked by a virus and I have to borrow one to tell everyone about my completely hideous day.
Well Fat Cat is calling, he is still not the root cause of any problems. I have to admit that at this moment I am just fine this way. I feel bad for Soldier and Coach, who are dealing with him as reality is setting in. I am hoping for a weekend alone, peaceful and quiet. I have Friday off for a doctor appointment which gives me 3 days - I cannot wait. Tank is still jubilant with his new position and if he can get that Jeep fixed and I have my car back, life would be pretty close to wonderful. Angel and Sasquatch are around in the evening and I like that = they are benefiting from my obsessive cooking when I nervous. I am really OK though just a little disjointed. I have found that I have an amazing bunch of friends, who are ready to jump in and help me no matter what I decide to do. I had not realized how bad things appeared from the outside. I have also realized Fat Cat has my address book and I have no phone numbers! So those of you that I have not called, do not think I am ignoring you, I just lost custody of your number!!!
Today sermon was on "Family Matters" mainly the relationship between husband and wife. Sweet. Now God is all up in my business. Great.
I am a little less sad today, my dear niece came over last night and whisked me off for soup and salad and conversation. I sat there mostly, just watching her talk. I like just looking at her. We look a lot alike, even more so as we age. She is only 8 years younger than me. Sometimes I think this is how it is when you have siblings, you lock them in at some point, and they just remain that way, in your eyes. For me she is about 10, I remember sitting with her in the movies, but mostly I see her sitting across from me in a restaurant I took her too, just me and her. her parents were having issues, and sometimes I thought she was so lost in all of it. But there she is across the table last night and she was probably thinking how lost I was in all of my drama. You just can't mistake that worried look, I have seen it in the mirror, and now she is my mirror. My own face looking back at me. I adore her, she may never know just how much, she is so incredible strong and solid. She is entirely undervalued. Last night she - without trying- made me realized how undervalued I am, and how what I wish for her and my desire for her to be respected and loved is perhaps what I should wish for myself.
What does a woman do the first night after her husband leaves her 1. Gets a french bread pizza and pecansandies 2. Uses the remote to watch, well, nothing special or for longer than 15 minutes 3. Worries about how she is going to pay her bills this month 4. Sits in the quiet house and screams until she throws up = how did it come to this?
The screaming has stopped, Fat Cat is somewhat subdued. I think he is relishing the fact that the kids are not here. Tank is still at his friends (note, he forgot to take any pants with him, what a hoot, he had to go buy a pair!). Angel is with Sasquatch, I know she is safe with him. (I am the luckiest mom, I do not have to worry about her, he is a good man). I have taken to my bed, staying out of the line of his firey rants and cuddled up with my puppies. I humiliated myself at work, by bursting into tears repeatedly. My drama is all I could think of. Reason number one million why I cannot keep this up. Soldier called, Fat Cat is probably going out there for awhile. Soldier is not happy about it. Number One called, he is worried about us. I am concerned too, if I can just get through tomorrow without a complete nervous break down.