Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Holy crap...I made $12 out of the gate back when I was fresh out of college with zero experience. IN 1996!!!
What asshat in his right mind thinks that he's going to be able to find talented admin assistance for $11 an hour? Certainly not a proper executive. Sounds like they'd be really fun to work for, if you ask me. Dipshits...
I'll keep looking, thanks.
(By the way, one of my bosses dressed up as "Jerry the asshole bum" today for Halloween, and I don't think I've laughed that hard in a good long time. Those of you who don't know Jerry, just be grateful. Those of you who live in KC and have seen/experienced Jerry on the Plaza or in Westport, you know what I mean. I gave him my normal Jerry line when I passed him: "I know who you are Jerry, and I'm tired of ya." His response? "Go fuck yourself!" Perfect!! It was the best costume of the day, IMO.)
Monday, October 30, 2006
Just...bleh. It's starting to get itchy in places, too. That's gonna suck.
Notice the way it's a blueish color up by the toes. Just an FYI, that isn't normal for my feet. Hope it isn't normal for yours either. If it is, you might be a zombie, or perhaps just totally dead. Just sayin'...
For the record, here's what a normal foot looks like for me. Note the unusual boniness and sinewy musculature of the foot. You'd think this would be indicative of the rest of my figure, but no. Hell no. Just my feet are boney, thanks. Aren't Slavic genes the best??
Time for bed. I get to get up early tomorrow to work out the top portion of my body. Awesome.
"Oh shit...you're right! What else can happen to me this week?" I replied, not really wanting to think about what else could happen to me.
"You'll probably leave here tonight and get t-boned as you pull out of the lot."
"I'll drink to that, New Friend." New Friend had bought me a pitcher of half cider, half Boulevard Wheat. I was still working on enjoying my first glass of it at that point. (He also had one, since he was nice enough to buy me the pitcher...) While I didn't really think anything else bad was going to happen, I couldn't help but wonder. After a few minutes, though, I forgot about the game, forgot about my crappy week, and just settled into having a few drinks and having some fun while doing it. It went well.
Then I went home. It was about 10-ish...I hadn't eaten since 2:30 or 3, and I was hungry. I decided to have a cigarette and the last wheat beer we had in the fridge. I let the dog out of her crate, and followed her outside to smoke my cigarette. The weather was great, I was happy to be as tipsy as I was, and I noticed the dog wasn't going down onto the grass to take care of business. "C'mon Iz! Let's go pee! C'mon!" I encouraged her by stepping down onto the first step toward the lawn. She followed me, but kind of stayed by my feet. I started to step down another step, and she went down two, staying on the bottom step, but still not heading to the grass. "Fine, I'll come down with you, you silly..."
And I really did. I missed the bottom step, though, landing on my left foot in an awkward way on the stone pavers below the bottom step, twisting my ankle, and gracefully falling to the ground while still managing to not spill my beer or drop my cigarette. It didn't take long for me to realize I'd hurt myself pretty badly. My left ankle looked...wrong. It was in the wrong place, it seemed. Thank goodness after a trip to the ER, some x-rays, and some really lovely poking and proding by the ER doctor assigned to me, we found that it wasn't wrong, but just extremely swollen in an immediate way. Not broken, but still rather wounded.
Here's what it looked like after we'd returned from the ER, and I'd calmed down enough to take a few pictures:
Here's another angle of it:
Yesterday, I felt a bit better, but sleep had been uncomfy, and pain that wouldn't go away set in at about 6:30 a.m. I also hadn't eaten since 3 the day before, and I was feeling really, really hungry by Sunday morning. I had to cancel plans to go to the wedding shower and baby shower that were lined up for the day...even though the doctor at the ER encouraged me to put weight on the foot to help the ligaments heal properly, or whatever, I still had to ice it every 2 - 3 hours for 20 minutes, and I was moving pretty slow everywhere. My foot feels numb wherever there's bruising, which by today is everywhere, but yesterday, looked like this:
Today, it's progressed even further down my foot towards my toes, and feels pretty damned funky. The pain isn't bad, though, and I didn't even fill the prescriptions I was given for the pain killers. (Vicodin and niproxin, I think. Not necessary, it seems...) I'm just taking 3 Advil every 4 hours, to help the swelling and assist with the little bit of pain I do have. Oh, and in the picture above, my leg looks all denty and stuff because of the way the brace I got pushes on the swelling. It's purdy, no?
So I've got a little question for everyone...how much do you think the brace they gave me at the ER is gonna cost me? I say $75. The fiance says maybe $50 - $70. Our friend Alisha thinks it'll be more like $150. Ooh! Heather, I bet you have a good idea, huh? Check it out...
It's keeping my ankle stable so that it can't collapse to the left or right again. It's starting to bug me a bit, and I really hope I don't have to wear it any more after Friday. But to be honest, if it costs anywhere near $150, I might have to figure out a way to work it into my wedding outfit, for fuck's sake. It's FOAM!! Why do they charge so much for so little, is what I wanna know?!
Anyway, that was #3 in my book. So the universe can fuck off now, ok? OK??
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I probably won't be posting much for the next couple of days. Not much in the mood, as one might imagine.
*sacked = fired. Or rather, in my case, "asked to resign" based upon untruths and nasty tempers and just generally old farts getting their facts wrong, when the only right thing they should do at this point is fucking retire already. I'll be giving my two week's notice tomorrow, and moving on forevah...(from the job, I mean. Not from anything else!)
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Yeah, I called and cancelled it today. I'm tired of this shit. It didn't make sense to me before, and it sure as hell doesn't make sense to me now that they want an additional $10 a month for no fucking reason at all whatsoever. My insurance guy looked it over quickly, and he sighted the change as being the 20% increase they add for me being too short and fat for their taste. I told him that was already a part of the old premium they had originally charged me. He apologized and asked me what I wanted to do, move forward or just cancel it? I told him it's been more trouble than it's worth, and with the limited coverage to doctors in Johnson County, Kansas they have on the plan, I just don't even want to deal with it any more. I did tell him that I appreciated all of his hard work, and said I was very sorry for wasting their time like this, which he brushed off of course. It's his job, he said. I still feel bad, though. It's not his fault that the medical provider that got chosen for me, or whatever, is stupid and assholeish.
So I'm back to needing to be ultra-careful, avoiding buses, and driving like an old lady, eating as healthy as possible, and willing my internal organs to just be good to me for as long as they can. Hopefully, I'll have insurance coverage some way or another within the next year or so.
It'd be infuriating if it wasn't so fucking tiresome to deal with...
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Here's what did happen over the weekend that is staying with me in the early part of the week: Texas got lucky; Cal got lucky; Notre Dame kicked some ass (and got lucky). Those were the 3 games that had me riveted on Saturday afternoon, and they definitely didn't let me down in the end! Well, except for when Cal and Texas both won. That sucked. But I do love me a close game (I like the excitement of it, really...), and I think that most people are lying if they say otherwise. Sure, it's nice to see your favorite team leading by 20 or more points...but isn't it awesome when it comes down to the last 6 seconds, and you have to count on a kicker that already missed one field goal and an extra point, and he's either gonna send you into overtime or end the game with a win with a 48...no, no - make that a 53 yard field goal??
Yeah, that was pretty fucking cool, too.
So it was a good weekend, with some tinges of icky in it, but it appears as though most of the ick has finally gone away, so hopefully I'll be able to start noting the interesting things as they happen again. I'll keep you all posted. As usual.
(Oh, and in case some hadn't noticed, Alli has her next installment up over at 63 Days. She put it up last Thursday, but I only noticed it today, and it doesn't look like many others have noticed it yet, either, judging from the comments section...she's almost done with her story. Go check it out when you get a chance.)
Monday, October 23, 2006
I'm feeling a bit under the weather. All weekend, more sleep than normal was necessary, and then yesterday, a full-blown bug made itself apparent in my intestine. Gatorade and a few saltines were all I could manage to get down for "dinner", and so far todayall I've managed to get down is a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. I'm getting hungry, but I'm afraid to eat. I don't want to feed this thing in any way. It hasn't been a pretty last 18 hours. I'm afraid to drink Diet Coke, even! That's just wrong.
So I'm busy, I might go home early, and this is all the post you're getting today, consequently. Sorry!
Friday, October 20, 2006
What did I have, you ask? Well, it was a small concoction of black beans, fajita veggies, about 4 oz of grilled steak, and some salsa and lettuce, topped off with some Louisiana Hot Sauce just prior to eating, and while it was a bit too salty for my personal taste, it still tasted pretty damned good.
Yeah, it was from Chipolte. And I blame you all for my craving for it, thanks. Consequently, I also blame you all for my desire to throw it all back up again.
I don't get it! It's not like it was a HUGE amount of food, or anything! Normal amounts...happy, happy.
Except, not happy. Not in the least. Blehhhhh...
Thursday, October 19, 2006
The B-52's "Rock Lobster" was playing over the sound system, and he stopped writing to tell me, "You know, I always thought this was a fake song, until I heard it being played here at the gym one day." I looked at him through my teary eyes, cocked my head to the side and said, "Huh? Why did you think it was fake?"
He explained that the first time he heard it was on Family Guy, you know, when Peter was playing his version of the song (this link leads to a website that just starts playing the song without you clicking on anything to control it, just to warn ya...also, it's not the actual clip from the cartoon, but has slowly changing screen shots from it instead as Peter sings and plays guitar...) on his guitar to try to help cheer Cleveland up after he'd found out about his wife Loretta sexing it up with Quagmire. And he thought it was a song that Family Guy had made up.
See, this is the reason why some people enjoy Family Guy more than other people do. I get a LOT of the references that Family Guy makes to past pop phenomenons, whether they be based in t.v., music, or some other medium. Maybe I'm at a good age for it...I dunno. But my trainer, being only 25, might not understand when shows like Family Guy reference stuff from The Partridge Family, or The A-Team, or a fucking B-52's song.
It really cracked me up. I could just picture him there, recognizing the song as it played over 24 Hour Fitness's sound system, and wondering where he had heard it before...until the realization came to him that it was from hearing Peter Griffin singing it to Cleveland to cheer him up.
My favorite part is when Peter sings the "rock lobster!" part in the higher voice, like the lead singer from the B-52's did in their original version. Fucking funny as hell.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
It rubs me the wrong way when people pronounce things incorrectly. Gives me hives. Makes me crraaaaaazzzzyyyyy!!!
Ok, maybe it's not all that bad, but it does bug.
It's chipotle, people. Chi-pot-leeee. Hell, call it "chypahtlee" if you wanna, but stop fucking mixing up the "t" and the "l" will ya? Jeezus...
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Apparently, she grew bored enough with the gazillion square feet of grass, trees, and general bush areas we have fenced in for her to explore to want to squeeze her butt through the space between the gate and the edge of the fence that we try to keep blocked off with a large brick.
The fiance has her back now (after driving around for two hours looking for her, he finally found a mailman that had seen her 3 or 4 blocks west of our house...), thank goodness, and is working on blocking off the little space in the fence a bit better than it was before. My questions to him when he called to tell me he'd found her? "Is she ok? And did you kick her ass???" Little snot. I made flyers and everything that I was planning on racing home with as soon as I was able to. She doesn't have any tags on her collar. She will after this weekend, though...
Thank GOD we have her back! I can't wait to hug her and kiss her and yell my ASS off at her when I get home tonight.
I heard that anchorwoman Soledad O'Brien on CNN actually squeal about it this morning as they talked about it getting closer and closer. I was all, "WTF? This is something we're supposed to be excited about? The fact that we're taking up more and more space, are filling the roads with more and more cars, building out into previously pristine land so that we all have enough room to be able to stretch our arms out to the sides without hitting another person...this is something we should be EXCITED about? Fuck that shit." They were counting down to it on the news channels this morning. Made me sick to even hear it/look at it. Let's talk about North Korea and what's gonna happen with that, shall we? CHRIST!! Fucking 300 million mark for the population. Jackasses...
This morning, I cried on the way to the gym, I cried at the gym, and then I finally got to work out which made me feel lots better. (Until I got to my parking garage across from the office...almost started crying again.) I can't stop thinking about some issues I'm having with my dad right now (has to do with money and the wedding and that general stuff...can't talk about it, since he asked me to keep that shit to myself and I'm honoring his request), and then the fact that I have no money to be able to get my hair done, and I have two showers to go to in the next couple of weeks (both of which are on the same day, and are for people that I love and want to show that I'm happy for them by buying a great gift for them both, but I have to settle for less than what I'd normally do if I actually had a job that paid me well enough to surivive through rough times like what I'm going through right now...) so that's wearing on me a bit, and we have to eat the same two things all fucking week, just about, because it's all I could afford to make us (one is split pea soup and the other is chicken chili...both are yummy, but meal after meal after meal of the same thing? Bleh.), and the whining has. got. to. stop. Seriously.
Basically, I'm having a mid-year-32-crisis, and it's sucking my fat ass. I thought I'd share it with y'all! Because it's so much fun for everyone that way!!! Wheeeeeee!!!!!!
Ok, so after my workout this morning, I guess the stress had built up a bit, and I couldn't stop thinking about the stuff that was getting to me, and suddenly, the fact that I had to go to the bathroom sort of became OHMYGODMUSTGETTOTHETOILETNOOOOOOWWWW! You know how that is. So I got to the toilet, relieved whatever the fuck it was that hit me, and just as I was finishing up I heard someone else enter the toilet area with me. Now, there are 5 stalls in this thing, PLUS the handicapped stall, which is the one I was in because it's the furthest from the door, and I follow the rules, dammit. I had made it a not-so-pleasant atmosphere at least at my end of the stall area, and one would think that this could be detectible as soon as one entered the general area...maybe I'm wrong about that, though. The problem? This person that walked in came alllll the way down to my end of the stall area, and went into the empty stall right next to the one I was in!!!
We all know by now how I feel about this, really. And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, because I've read it sooooo many other places, so it's a general rule, right? You have 5 stalls to choose from, so stay away from the empty one that's next to the only other stall that's occupied! Even though I was pretty much done (or rather, my intestines were done with me), it still was uncomfy. I figured she got her insta-karma, though, what with the intensely lovely aroma I had created.
How retarded can some people be, though? C'mon!! I don't care how tired out you are from your workout...at least have the courtesy to leave the 1-stall buffer. Jackass.
Just wanted to give everyone a heads-up, I've rearranged and adjusted the blogroll, which some might have already noticed, but some might not've. Basically, some of the blogs that were on there are no longer being updated. Two of my favorites have joined up and created The Adventures of Snapleg, so that's fun. A couple of others that I've been wanting to return to their daily, or at least weekly (or monthly!) blogging appear to have died all together, so I finally removed them (RIP Joelle, Superficial Plaza Chick, Pink Martinis, and GFI!! I'll miss you guys!), and while others have died as well (The Daily Dump , and Maine), their archives are long and varied and WELL worth the read, so I've left them on my blogroll for everyone to link to and continue to enjoy. Other ones that haven't updated in a while (wiscolizard at Is it just me?) have extenuating circumstances that keep them from blogging right now, but I hope for their eventual return, so I'm leaving them on the list.
I also added a couple new links, like the one to fourfour whom I discovered through Y over at Joy Unexpected , thankyouverymuch, and the one to the Eddie Izzard Quotes page, which just comes in so handy for those moments when you want to remember the exact line from Dress to Kill that keeps swimming around and around in your brain, but you know you don't have it quite right. ("Ahh buggar. I was so surprised. Were you surprised? I was surprised.") Of course, you have to watch his stand up routines to get it JUST right, because otherwise, the intonation is all off in your head, but the words are still pretty fucking funny. So there's that for ya.
And that's all I've got time for right about now. Maybe more later. After the population of the US has edged its way up to a respectable 300,000,300 or something...
Monday, October 16, 2006
Also, $104 later, I now know how to go to Home Depot, buy a goddammed $3 part for my heater, and fix it myself if this should happen again. I'm not kidding...there aren't a lot of things that piss me off (HA! Ok, just bear with me...I needed that laugh) like having someone come to my house for the bargain price of $39 in order to diagnose and fix the problem within 10 minutes with a $3 part from the hardware store that he then charges me $60 to install. Now THAT is upcharging at it's finest, my friends.
He left a weird tool behind though. Mwahahahahahaha!!! It is MINE now! Mwahahahahahahaha!!!!! I don't know what to do with it, but perhaps I can figure out how to use it to screw people into giving me cash for doing nothing. We shall see....
I have to go work now. To earn my crappy paycheck. Woo. Love this shit, man...
Friday, October 13, 2006
What really bothers me is that I don't have my blogroll, and unfortunately, don't have everyone's blogdresses memorized quite yet. So I've been really annoyed by that for the last day and a half.
Here's what's up with me: as soon as temps dip into the 30's overnight, this is, of course, when we find out that the heater in the house is not working properly. The pilot light went out, and while I've successfully figured out how to light it again, it isn't able to stay lit for some reason. So, space heaters have been saving the day for the past couple of days, and today I have a request in for a service call from my heating and cooling company. Thank God it's payday! (Not that I really wanna spend my hard-earned cash on my fucking heater, but whatev...)
I'm really hoping I can just take a half-day today, actually, since we have this work thing going on from 11:30 - 2:30 today in the park (barbecue and drinks to celebrate the 13th as well as the fall season and everything...), and then I have to go home to let the puppy out and to deal with the heater anyway, so what's the point in working after noon, I figure? I've got some stuff to do right away this morning, but then I should be done with it, so we'll have to see if the half-day works out at all.
I'm gonna go pay bills now. Hope everyone has a happy Friday, and that you aren't having the same trouble that I am in seeing my blog! Otherwise, this whole post is kind of a joke, right? Right...
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
So, this insurance thing. I don't know how to put it...basically, being in charge of finding my own medical insurance has been such an utter, complete pile of joy that it's difficult to discuss it without crying a bit. After Humana so lovingly denied me coverage back in March or April or whenever because I'm fat, I started looking at other options, and fell back on my current insurance company that I use for my home and my car for help. I worked with a new guy in the office. He's nice. I think he understands how tough it can be for a girl who's a whole 6 pounds overweight to try to obtain affordable insurance, as he's kinda chubby himself. (Of course, being a man and all, he carries it better, and looks more "healthy" than "fat" I'd say...) We filled out all the proper paperwork, I signed the docs, and we sent everything to underwriting for review.
2 months later (end of August), they decide they'll go ahead and give me the high deductible insurance I need/want. Great. Sounds good. I get the package in the mail telling me about my exclusions and all that good stuff and find that they have not only "rated up" based upon my height and weight (I pay a 20% higher premium because I don't weigh 180. Happily, I'm down 4 pounds from what I weighed - 190 - when we sent in the paperwork back in June, and plan on being even lighter within a year, so I'm hoping that will help eventually...), but they also have provided a waiver for any coverage on treatment for abnormal pap smear, any disease or disorder of the uterine cervix, to include (but not limited to!) malignancy, infection or any complications. So basically, if I get cancer of any kind in my cervix or uterus, I'm fucked. GREAT! So glad someone called to discuss this with me, as I might have chosen not to get any kind of insurance coverage at all had I known about this, right? Jeezus...
Fine. Whatever. I'm still covered if I get hit by a bus. As long as the bus doesn't give me cancer in my girlie parts when it hits me, that is...
I was warned ahead of time by the chubby new guy at the insurance office that I would be required to pay 3 months of premium up front once the plan was set in place by the company. So shortly after I received my plan info in the mail, I received my bill, which I had saved up to pay, and all was well.
Until 2 whole weeks later, when I received another bill for 3 months worth of premiums. Huh? I called my insurance office and spoke to the chubby new guy about it. Yeah, he wasn't aware of this either, but basically, they started the plan on the date that I signed the paperwork in the office. So before it was underwritten - before I was even aware that I had insurance - I had insurance, it seems. So that last 3 month payment I sent in? Yeah, it covered July, August, and September, and I now owe for October, November, and December.
Here's the problem though...I'm not made of money. So pulling another $587 out my ASS to send to them isn't quite possible at this time. PLUS, I told the chubby new guy when I was in there signing all the documents that I needed to pay for the insurance on a monthly basis after this initial 3 month premium payment was made. He called the insurance company that covers me, then he called me back and told me that they agreed to just charge me for 2 months instead right now, and then I can pay for December at the end of November as usual. After that, it'll be monthly. Well...THANKS. I only have to pay $390 instead of $587 now? That is great news.
When I was talking to my dad this last week about how I really needed to get that deposit back from him that the fiance and I made on the church out of our own pocket, I explained some of this insurance shit that's going on. "That sounds like fraud to me," he said. "They can't charge you for something you didn't even know you had or that you could use. That's not right." I thought about it a bit more, and called back to talk to the insurance office again last Friday. This time, I spoke to my original insurance guy, and he agreed that paying for 2 months of coverage that I wasn't even aware I had wasn't right. He said he'd check it out and call me back on Monday.
So Monday, I hear back from chubby new guy. The insurance company they got my insurance through has agreed (ever so politely, I'm sure...) to change my initial insurance start date to August 29 instead of June 29, since that's when they sent me the agreement and the paperwork explaining my plan, and basically is the NORMAL thing to do, dammit. Since I paid them in September for the 3 months, I don't owe them another dime right now, which is just how I needed it to be.
The only other problem? My gyno isn't on their list of included providers, but since my deductible is $2,100, that doesn't really matter much. I don't go to the gyno often enough in a year to cover that deductible, and since they won't cover me if I have to deal with cancer/complications of cancer of my girlie parts either, then it doesn't really matter who my gyno is in that case, really. It doesn't change the coverage much if I see an outside provider anyway. I'll be fine, I'm sure. (As long as that whole bus-giving-me-girlie-parts-cancer scenario doesn't occur, that is...)
So that is the whole long fun story about me and my insurance. I'm kinda glad I've had this experience, really. For much of the rest of my working life, I will be required to have my own insurance anyway, so it's good that I know what to do in the future. First of all, I need to be skinny. Second of all, I need to never, ever have any abnormal shit pop up on a test which is checking the health of a body part over which I have no control and cannot help the health of in any way. Thirdly, I need to live in one of the most populated counties in the state, and go to the most obscure doctors ever in order to have them be participating providers. (Hey, if I need to see an oncologist, I'm good to go. As long as he/she isn't helping me with a bus hit-induced cancer of the girlie parts issue, that is...I also have an anesthesiologist on my list. AND a hemotology doctor. I'm SET, man!)
Insurance is fun. And now my head doesn't hurt at all after relaying all this stuff in this post! I get to go work at this point, which is going to be so enjoyable, I can't even stand it. Don't you wish you were me? I thought so...jealous little bastards!
Monday, October 09, 2006
This isn't right. I don't understand why people think this is beautiful or classy or beneficial to their clothing line, or any of that. This model walked the catwalk for Guy Laroche in the Spring/Summer fashion week that's currently happening in Paris, apparently. Guy Laroche is a sick, sick fucker if he thinks this is the type of woman that should be wearing his clothing, period.
God, I'm so grossed out right now...
I'm not sure why I looked at the ingredient list on the box, but I saw that the first ingredient in their mix is wheat flour. Awesome...I always like a wheat product if I can get it. But the next ingredient? It's some sort of animal derived fat - either lard or something like it. And for some reason, this completely shocked me! I didn't know that box mixes could have animal fat inside of them. Back when I was a vegetarian (RIP January 2000 - April 2000) for a short time, I wouldn't have thought to have checked on something like that before making it, I don't think. I wasn't hard core, or anything, but I wasn't eating any meat other than fish, and I'm pretty sure that any kind of lard was right out.
So I thought I'd go ahead and offer a public service announcement to all you blog-reading vegetarians out there. Check the ingredients in those box mixes before you make/eat them! Deceiving little buggars...
Friday, October 06, 2006
Jeezy chreezy, people, cars are deadly weapons when used incorrectly. Believe me when I say I'm trained in the proper art of kicking your ass with my automobile. Fuckheads.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Huh. Well. What can I say?
Um, I got a write up in our local weekly here in KC, in which they called me "Best Blog About Life!" Yeah, it’s not CBS, or what have you, but hey, there are ads in the back of the weekly that I was published in that can get you laid! AND they can point you in the direction of a good night out for you and your friends. Can CBS do all that? Yeah. That’s RIGHT.
Needless to say, my week has been as shit as weeks come. I had my review at work on Monday, which basically told me what I’ve always known, that being that some people like me and some don’t, and I do good work according to the people that matter. I agreed with some of what was said, didn’t with other stuff, life goes on…(and yes, it made me cry. As much as I try to be a hard-ass, I still hate it when I hear that people are tattling on me for shit that doesn’t mean anything to them, or if I hear that people don’t really like me or working with me. I’m a girl, after all. A girlie-girl, no less!)
Tuesday, I just felt out of place, hurried, and uncomfortable all day. I also had to wake up early to go to the gym where my trainer somehow managed to absolutely pulverize every muscle in the front of my thighs, as well as part of the ones right below my ass. To say I was a bit exhausted at the end of the day is putting it mildly. The crying was inevitable. And I went to bed at 8:30 that night, which sucked ass.
Yesterday, I found out that I was an idiot, and had to work all day long on a project in order to prove that I kick ass instead. It was exhausting as well, and while it was rewarding in the end, I still was very sad, feeling dejected and stupid, and just wanted to drink heavily for the last 3 hours of the day before I passed out in bed. My head hurt, my legs hurt (I can walk pretty well on flat surfaces, but as soon as I need to stand up, sit down, or walk up or down stairs, I look palsied in some way. People kept asking me if I was ok all day long yesterday…nice of them, but holy crap, I felt cool), my eyes hurt, and I was feeling as low as I could possibly feel. So when the fiancé got home, and started to excitedly talk about dinner, and I could only feel my mouth hitting that downturn that it does as I try to fight back tears, we decided to go ahead and just head to a local Mexican place for cheap tacos and yummy margaritas, and that’s when he told me about The Pitch write-up.
I hadn’t been expecting it so soon! For some reason, I thought it would be out in November, and so I was instantly cheered, especially when the fiancé went outside to get a copy of the magazine so I could read the little blurb they wrote about me (which was wonderful…), and I couldn’t stop laughing all of a sudden. Moods up, we finished our dinners and our margaritas and headed home to watch Project Runway before I hit the hay.
After the show was over, I decided to call my dad to tell him about The Pitch thingy. I was so excited to finally have a reason to call him about something other than money for the wedding, and well, you know how THAT turned out, of course. He totally deflated me. After I made a sharp comment or two about the situation, and he kind of back-peddled in saying that he didn’t mean to make me feel bad about my write-up (which I knew, but couldn't help allowing it to affect me anyway, because I'm really cool like that), I went ahead and asked him if he’d gotten my e-mail last week about the wedding budget. We talked a bit about that, he asked if it could wait until Monday when he and my step-mom get home from Vegas, I said it would be fine, and then I told him I loved him and good night.
Shit. Just writing it now makes me want to cry again.
After getting off the phone, the fiancé held me close and let me cry all over him some more, although this time it was a bit harder and more teary than it had been earlier. The emotional roller-coaster was taking its toll, and I decided to head to bed. I read my book about Elizabeth I for a bit before turning off the light, appreciating her life and position so much more than ever before, and then I went to sleep crying a bit more in my pillow as I drifted off finally.
Today is going to be better at work, I know. I have specific plans for a project that needs to get done, and I’ve completed the other project that I worked on ALL DAY yesterday. I’ve been given a new assignment and a specific deadline for it and it sounds really cool and exciting and like perhaps someone might be trying to show me that they have a bit more faith in my abilities than I thought (and yet, the more I think about it, the more I feel like it's formed out of condescention somehow...a pity assignment, almost. Because, again, that's just how twisted my brain can be at times...). Tonight, the fiancé and I will eat ground beef in some form or another (I can’t decide between a couple of ideas…I’m sure one will stand out more than the other by the end of the day) and watch a latest release from Blockbuster, and then I need to go to bed at a reasonable time so I can go bust my ass at the gym tomorrow morning. (Yesterday not only completed itself with margaritas and tacos drenched in beef fat, but also included a meal from McDonald’s that I haven’t allowed myself to have in a long time, and started off with a bagel with hummus and tomato…yeah, I’m pretty sure I gained 2 pounds just from that shit throughout the day!)
The week is almost over. That is what matters.
And let me go ahead and assure all of you that I'm not trying to say I'm mad at my sis-in-law for whatever has happened to her due to her blog. The woman is an amazing writer, and writes about very different subject matter than I do. Her blog is less "diary" and more serious writing, and its beautiful stuff. I can’t tell you exactly where it’s at since she uses her real name, and I’d prefer to stay anonymous and all, but she is in my blogroll, so if you can figure out which blog is hers, congrats. I can’t wait to see this interview on CBS, really. It was just kinda poor timing on how I found out and all, is the thing.
Ok, so the "key" to the little blurb in The Pitch is as follows:
Here is where the scariness of the colposcopy/abnormal pap/crazy bills started. It was all going on in June, so start reading there, and the posts that follow it (on the 14th, 15th, 16th, 20th, etc…) explain how it all went down.
You can see an example here and here of my posts about pooping, but seriously, I just blog about that sort of shit (heh) at will, so they’re sprinkled all throughout the last 2 and a half years of my writing. (Oh, I just found a good one.) Sometimes, I even talk about other people’s poo, like here for example. Those people are my favorites.
And holy hell, when am I NOT complaining/lamenting/whining about my fat ass? Here’s a spot , and here’s a spot , and I don’t have time to look for more, but really, what’s more boring than hearing about a chubby chick complain about her chub anyway, right? Right.
So yeah, have fun with it. That’s the point to it. That’s why I do it. That’s why I love it. And I’m sure glad other people seem to love it, too. THANKS PITCH!!
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
They send catalogs with a regular amount of frequency to my home...not as bad as Vic's Secret (because, really, do I need to look at the same shit just rearranged in a different way every other week? No. No I don't. And yes, I know XO and the D...I know you guys would probably be fine with it, but as I am a girl, I kinda look at Vic's Secret catalogs for other reasons...), but usually at least once a month I get one, and I flip through it to drool in the privacy of my own home.
But the last two catalogs I've received have confused me. Their models...they aren't, well, right in my opinion. The last catalog before the one I received yesterday had this girl in it...not a woman - a girl. Chick can't be older than 13, and if she is, then there's something wrong with her. See the pics below and tell me if I'm wrong on this.
To me, she looks like a child playing dress-up in her older sister's clothes, and it bugs. Doesn't make me want to look at the clothes, but rather to call Anthropologie to ask them what the hell they're thinking.
The other catalog I received yesterday has, as always, great stuff in it. But again, the chick...I don't know what they're trying to pull off with this one. There are kids posing in the pics with her, and I can't figure out if she's supposed to be their mom or their nanny or wtf is going on. Nanny is more believable than mom, that's for sure. I couldn't get any pics from the site to paste in this post, so you're just gonna have to go look at the online catalog link here to see what I'm talking about. (And I don't even know if that link works, to be honest...whatev. I tried!) Why have the kids in the pics at all? I'm looking for the clothes or the home decor...children aren't necessary to me, since the store doesn't sell children's clothing. (Well, unless they're dressing 13 year old models, that is...)
Am I wrong on this one? Anyone else get irritated with their mailers like I do?
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
These things are NASTY! They're sort of ok at first, but then there's this aftertaste that happens that tastes all bitter and gross. I just saw the ingredients on the bag, and it makes more sense, but I still ain't eating them. (Ingredients being: Apples and calcium ascorbate, which apparently is a blend of calcium and vitamin c.) There isn't any fiber in them, I'm assuming because they remove the skin from the apples before putting them into bags first, which WTF? And while they do have a hefty dose of vitamin c for their amount of substance, it's not worth it. IT'S NOT WORTH IT, I SAY!!!
I'm throwing the things out. I think we still have some dried fruit left in the snack drawer here at work that will work out the balance I need in my breakfast.
Blech! Don't buy apple dippers. Unless you're curious and wanna see if I'm just a nazi about the types of "fresh" fruit I put in my mouth. They only cost a buck, so it's not a huge deal, money-wise, although I really can't afford to waste it these days like this. Hey, live and learn, right? Maybe the caramel dip they serve with it is supposed to cover up most of the nastiness. Bleh.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Yeah. Me too...
(p.s. Dear Monday,
Piss. the FUCK. off.
Love, (yeah, not really!)