Saturday, I'll be leaving for Florida. Every year since I can remember, my family has gone to stay in Florida where we own a timeshare. When I was younger, this was the highlight of my year. Then it became the part of the year I dreaded the most. This year is the first in a very long time where I have looked forward to it. That's not to say that I haven't been having nightmares about my sister trying to kill me -- but still -- time off. It will be my first ever paid holiday. And it should, theoretically, be relaxing.

I'll, of course, be sad to leave my kitties. I feel pretty guilty leaving them cooped up alone in my apartment for an entire week. Especially since the last time I went out of town for a few days, I returned to find Jack's head swollen. But at least he will have Tabitha, and hopefully my friends will play with them a bit while I'm out.

This is the first year I've had to leave behind a garden. My mother always loses a great deal of plants when we go. This year, I suppose, I'll have to do the same. I've grown to enjoy my balcony and tending my plants every evening. I'll be very sad if the climbing cardinal dies. I've watched it grow from the sapling my mother gave me to the long winding vine that is currently overtaking the railing.

I'll miss my apartment -- my home. Leaving only makes me realize how much happier my life has become. I don't necessarily want an escape at the moment. Time off work, sure -- always. Work has become a bit of a drag. And I'm dreading starting classes back in the fall. Somehow I don't imagine I'm going to be too thrilled about spending 4 hours in class after 10 spent at work... we should push back vacation to fall semester when I'm sure to be miserable.

My gallbladder just ruined dinner

I've decided that all the pain I'm having all boils down to gallstones. I know that the only thing the two doctors I've seen so far have agreed on is that the chest pain is not related to gallstones, but I disagree. Something is causing a hell of a lot of pain, and the only thing they've found wrong with me after tons of tests is a lot of gallstones. And I'm sorry to be one of those people who reads too much of the internet, but I've seen chest pain listed on a lot of the symptoms pages for gallstones.

I can't wait to get this thing out. Tonight, I cooked burritos for dinner. Burritos are some of my favorite things to make for dinner and it's always a treat to myself when I do. And halfway through the browning of the meat and the cooking of the rice, as I was opening a jar of salsa, I started to feel a sharp burning pain. I thought maybe it was because I hadn't eaten all day (too busy reading Harry Potter ;) ) so I grabbed some milk to tie me over -- nuh uh. It immediately went from a bit of discomfort to rolling around on the floor pounding my chest and screaming for God to give me a break.

Burnt my rice. I want it out.

And then after maybe half an hour of intense, unbearable pain and me dripping with sweat, it started to go away. 10 minutes later I felt like nothing happened and I wanted a burrito. As in I'm feeling 100% again -- no residual pain what-so-ever. How fucked up is that?

"Acid Reflux" my ass. I'm on a high dose of Nexium and haven't even eaten much all day -- not to mention the fact that after the gastric bypass surgery, reflux shouldn't be an issue. These expense purple pills are not working.

Just to keep you in the loop...

(This is an email I just emailed my family)

I've been having a bit of pain recently and went to the doctor today. He found two things wrong with me: Number one: Gallstones. I'm going to have to see a surgeon about getting my gallbladder removed soon. I'm going to do my best to have it arranged with Dr Facundus who did my gastric bypass surgery. I like him, his record and reputation is impeccable, and he didn't break me the last time. I'll not be worrying about this until the second problem is taken care of so it might be a month or two or three before it happens. I'll keep you posted and let you know when I do.

Second, I have possibly a ulcer. The doctor is not sure -- he just knows that it's my stomach that is causing the pain. First thing in the morning, I'm going to call a specialist and make an appointment. They'll scope me and figure out exactly what the problem is and then go from there. Hopefully it's just an ulcer. And just incase that's what it is, he put me on Nexium which should help a bit.

I'll let you know when I know more :)

Harry Potter

I've finally started reading the Harry Potter books. I know it took me forever but with the last one coming up I got sucked in. I can't believe I was so stubborn and obnoxious as to put off something I might enjoy just because I thought I was too old for it. So what if they're children's books? They're good! And I've loved every movie since the first one came out!

Erin loaned me their whole set of the books on Friday night. I'm about to start book 3 now. The first two were awesome. I admit that the second was kind of annoying with the constant recaps -- but I have to concede that a lot of people wouldn't be reading the books back to back and they'd have forgotten things -- and these books are meant for children of all ages -- not necessarily only the ones on a college reading level. Aside from that small insignificant annoyance-- AWESOME. Of course I loved the movies with a passion -- have since the very first one. I know I was more thrilled to see the new movie than anyone I know -- including all the people who read the books. I'm glad to have seen the movies first, actually. I can visualize the characters and places and hear their voices as I remember that scene from the movie.

I'm ready to start book three now -- The Prisoner of Azkaban. This is the one I've been wanting to read the most. It was my favorite movie. I LOVE Sirius Black. I love Gary Oldman too. I hope to be able to read book 7 without knowing any spoilers. If I can draw the rest of the books out for 3 weeks, I can read book 7 on the beach!

I <3 Harry Potter. Thanks for loaning me the books, Chicka! I promise not to let Jack chew on the corners ;)


I'm running out of clothes that fit rather quickly. And there seems to be a limit to how baggy your clothes can be before they just look wretched. I remember reaching this point in Florida where my brother bought me a new pair of pants because I so desperately needed them. I think I've reached this point with my work pants. So tonight I went digging through my closets to find something to wear to work tomorrow.

I found a skirt my mother gave me that used to be too tight. It works. I've never been one to wear skirts, especially not knee-length ones so I'm debating whether I look like a librarian or a slut. My legs look pretty good in it though. So I dug out my heels. I wore them once -- the first day of work. My feet were so swollen and red by the end of the day that I took a picture of them. They looked really good with the skirt. I still had them out when I tried on a pair of pants -- also from my mom. Boot cut and slender, I tried on the heels with them too. Holy shit. Heels make your legs and ass look spectacular! No wonder people suffer them so much. I always forget that.

Oh, I'm wearing my heels to work tomorrow. My feet will be throbbing by the end of the day, but my ass will look splendid -- that counts for something.

Me thinks the scale is a liar.

So either I've started losing weight again out of nowhere, or my scale is a total liar. It says I weigh 185lbs (sans clothes). I'm not going to believe that until someone else's scale backs it up. I'm tempted to believe it because all my belts are even too big now...

I was supposed to lose weight for anywhere between 16 and 18 months after the surgery. And I did. I stopped at 205lbs. And I stayed at 205lbs for about 5 or 6 months. Then around May, I started losing again and now here I am 26 months out from surgery and at 185lbs. That's freaking awesome. In may when I called to make my 2 year appointment with my surgeon I was dreading it. Now it's a month away and I'm psyched. I'll go hop on Facundus's scale that used to weight me at 329lbs happily. I was supposed to lose about 60 percent of my excess weight and I've lost 78 percent. I can totally be proud of that!

And my delphiniums are blooming!

Dear Diary,

Today I slept really late and then woek up to read. I stayed in my pajamas until about 3 oclock. My neighbors children (the ones who think I'm the most awesome person ever) came over to play with Jack before I had a shower. They wanted to drop off an invitation to her birthday party and invite me to go bowling tomorrow. I cooked myself steak and a baked potato for dinner and cleaned up while it was cooking. I know it's not hard to fuck up a baked potato, but I think I make the best I've ever had. Then I read some more while I ate. Now it's time to go to the theater to meet a group of nearly 20 friends (mostly "extended" friends) to see Harry Potter (again, that is. Erin and I saw it Thursday).

And last night I had pizza and played a new board game at Chad's house. Then we all went to the pool and relaxed for a long while complete with pool toys (I love me some pool toys). It was an awesome evening. It was great to feel like I belonged with everyone. Which is kind of a new feeling.

And mom left for Florida today to spend the week with my brother and her family. I'm glad to know she'll be happy and enjoying herself and to not have to worry about her like I always do. So basically, this weekend is awesome. I feel great. This is like the exact opposite of depression. I'm content with the way things are at the moment. That's a new feeling too.

"I'm gonna get fired for this, aren't I?"

Today, my friends -- today, I hosed a very expensive piece of equipment. A one of a kind piece of equipment that we were running tests on and don't have the capability to fix. I had to run the same test 16 times today. The same test that I've already run *counts in head* at least 40 times. But these 16 times, I had to run it with very important people watching me. Unfortunately, this very important person was a really annoying old man. I hate annoying old men -- in fact, what the hell happens to guys that turn them into these set-in-their-ways, annoying, mean, bitter old men? Seriously -- I want to know.

Oh, back to the story of my fuck-up.

Well, at one particular CRUCIAL part of the test, I have to click a button right after HE clicks one. And he said something and moved to write down results in such a way that I was sure he was done and it was time for me to click. Nope. I pretty much did the worst possible thing I COULD do. And by cutting power at that particular moment, I created a 120lb paper weight. Yep.

I was mortified. I knew I was gonna get fired over this. And dude, this shit had to be done by COB today, and this was the only one of these programmed like this in existence. Mortified, I tell you. We were all 100% positive that it was dead. And it was 100% my fault. But I immediately began to freak out and go into denial that SURELY there was a CHANCE it would run. So we went through 30 minutes to get to a point where I was praying to God and everyone was staring at the screen almost drooling waiting to see if it would possibly, miraculously work...

It worked.

IT WORKED. There is no way it should have worked. Ask anyone, they'll tell you I hosed it. And it came back to life anyway! I never felt so relieved in my life. I hosed it at 16% upload and the POS actually came back on anyway. Thank you Jesus. Thank you a lot.

After the Rain

This mushroom is right outside my door. It's as big as my hand. It's also awesome.

A rant on the rift and stress that is forming between me and my friends. Big rant.

I'm becoming super stressed out over a very stupid thing. This has led to full blown arguments with my friends on a few occasions. Very stressful arguments. And if one of my friends has ill feelings towards me, I notice. I love my friends. I've gone many a year without a single real friend so believe me when I say: I love these people. I love them far more than they'd ever imagine -- I worry about them, care about them, and genuinely try to do things to make them happy and to feel better when they're sad. Their problems become my problems -- to a huge fault. I love them with all my heart and thank God for bringing them into my life constantly. This needs to be said.

Also, I should not post about this because a lot of these awesome friends read my blog. But it's getting to a point where it is stressing me out to a degree to cause me mental and physical harm because I don't handle stress well. So I'm going here.

Lets have a scenario first to help me with my point. Say there is a guy who is a little off. He's awesome and wonderful and brings tons of joy to your life and you love him to death. They guy is awesome. He freaks out when you say JuJuBee though. like, seriously -- he wigs out. The poor guy can't help it -- there's just something in his brain that wigs out when he hears the word. Other than this, he's awesome. Now JuJuBee happens to be one of your favorite words. You really enjoy saying JuJuBee. But when you say it around him, he totally wigs out and has to go home to be medicated and take a few hours to chill out. But you like the guy and you respect that while it's totally crazy, you humor him and avoid saying JuJuBee for the small amount of time you spend with the guy. Because that's the right thing to do -- you have a right to say JuJuBee whenever you want but you respect that he can't handle it.

Now, back to me. I can't stand when people chew ice. In fact, I can't stand any kind of mouth noises. Gum, smacking, popcorn, chips, ice -- all of it. Drives me insane. Makes my skin crawl and makes my insides tense up. Seriously. If I ignore it -- I just build up this immense amount of hatred and general unhappiness inside. And I get all wound up and pissy and snappy. It bothers me more than a lot. Everyone knows this. Though I am aware that i hate it to a very irrational degree. So I make exceptions. People eat popcorn and chips around me. I hate it - but I can't really expect them to not eat a lot of foods because they annoy the shit out of me. If we're at the movies -- you get popcorn. I live with this. I usually just try to eat a lot of it myself to avoid getting stressed over it. And Erin, the sweetheart that she is, loves some gum. So sometimes when we're together, she'll say shes gonna chew gum -- but she promises to not smack it and to spit it out in a few minutes. Awesome -- I can take that.

But for somereason, everyones up in arms about the fact that I don't like ice chomping. We have friends that chew ice -- it's what they do. And even if I ask them to stop 5 times in like half an hour (yes, I've done it), they won't. I think that is obnoxiously rude and horribly disrespectful. I'm only asking you to not do it when you're with me. I'm aware it's a habit -- as has been pointed out to me repeatedly. I'm told I can't ask people to change themselves to suit me. But you know what -- most people masturbate. And you know what -- thats fine. That's a habit and thats fine. But you don't masturbate when you're sitting in my living room. I'm not asking you to change it -- only to respect that fact that I'm a little off and it HIGHLY DISTURBS ME.

So this has been brought up quite a lot recently -- my unreasonableness and unwillingness to compromise.*** Apparently -- it's gone so far as to have people bring it up to a certain someone so that he can confront me about it. WHAT THE FUCK? It's gotten to a point that when I hang out with my friends I stop to think -- but they might chomp ice -- and it I ask them to stop. Everyone will get mad at me. It's almost to the point that I just don't want to go all together. If I can't request that people don't chomp ice, maybe I should stay home. Jack doesn't chomp ice. Apparently, everyone thinks I'm being unreasonable to a very large extent. I think they are going to stop inviting me out sometimes -- if they haven't already. And I'm to the point where it's starting to give me ulcers in my mouth. As in, the skin of my mouth has been EATEN AWAY because I'm so upset. I never knew that it was so fucking difficult to not chew ice cubes. Who knew?

Tonight, I tried really hard not to say anything. REAL HARD. In fact. I briefly considered taking a knife to the bathroom and cutting myself. I'm 100% serious. Because if I cut myself, I wouldn't worry about it. I'd relieve that stress. I'd think less about the chomping and more about the fact that my arm was bleeding and I've started cutting myself again. I'M SERIOUS. But you know what -- if I'm starting to wig out and my body is starting to break down and I'm considering cutting myself, maybe I just shouldn't go to dinner anymore. Because apparently, me asking someone to stop is evil, but someone continuing to disregard and disrespect that fact that it seriously disturbs me if fine.


Oh and back to the *** about how I'm being told I need to find a compromise like I don't ever compromise. You know what else bothers me? Drinking. Everyone knows that drinking bothers me a lot. And everyone thinks its totally unreasonable that I won't let people drink in my house and that I request that they refrain from drinking when I'm with them. Drinking isn't a problem everyone says. Drinking is nothing everyone says. And you know -- it's real fucking easy to say that when you haven't lived with alcoholics. When you haven't had them pass out in the living room and lose control of their bladder all over the couch. You haven't had to drag them from the front yard where they passed out to their bed and then console your mother who is crying about it. You haven't had to lie about it and never ever talk about it because it would embarrass the family. You haven't had shit thrown at you and been hit because someone had too much to fucking drink. And apparently, you've missed all the stories about drunk driving accidents where a man who swears he hasn't had too much to drink hits a car with a bunch of kids in and kills a fucking 2 year old because he didn't think he had too much to drink. SO KEEP TELLING ME ALCOHOL DOES NOTHING.

But you know what? Even after I've been abused and suffered much over drunkeness from people who didn't think they had a goddamn problem, I don't complain when my friends order a beer at dinner and sit their drinking the exact same beer my father drank and then driving home because 1 beer isn't going to hurt them. You know what -- I don't say a word. I sit there and I eat it. SO TELL ME I DON'T FUCKING COMPROMISE while you're drinking your goddamn daiquiri.

I wish it didn't bother me. I really do. And every time, I try to ignore it. And my mom says I should just go to the bathroom when it bothers me. And I know that I'm the one whos gonna get dumped over it. I'm the one tat won't get invited out anymore. I'm the one that'll get talked about behind my back because oh-my-god-Karen is a spaz.

I have an OCD friend and no one says a thing about all her quirks. But Karen and the ice chomping? What a fucking bitch.

I can't believe this is happening. I'm afraid I'm gonna lose all my friends over this. I'm tired of arguing about it. Why isn't there a pill to fix this? I almost wish I would go deaf. And I'm sitting here terribly upset and CRYING about it. What the hell is wrong with this goddamn world. Why is life so hard? Why am I so fucking crazy? I hate feeling crazy...

I need to shut up.

EDIT: And before people tell me to see a psychiatrist about this: I have. I've discussed this particular topic with 3 different psychiatrists. The alcohol thing too, obviously (and BTW, my psychiatrists said it was not an unreasonable request for me not to want to be around drinking, THANK YOU VERY MUCH). Perhaps people who cannot respect my feelings and short fallings should got to the psychiatrist about why they keep doing it despite my requests.


My mouth has been covered in stress ulcers for over a week now. This might actually be the worst I've ever had them. And today a friend reminded me that I should get some Oragel. Well I haven't been able to buy my own lunch for a few days -- but I got paid today! I got some Oragel on the way home -- and holy shit. I've been in constant pain all week. I couldn't smile or lick my lips and eating was really hard. And now -- now my mouth is totally numb (except for a light burning sensation which is wonderful in comparison). This is awesome. I'm happy.

Also, I've got 9 classes left before I graduate and get a freakin giant pay-raise. I need to take 2 classes this fall so I can have my degree next Christmas. My work will reimburse me for all my classes 100%... but only after I get my grades back. That poses a problem when you consider that UAH wants the classes paid for on the first day of class. This posed a large problem for me. I have no money. So I went to HR today and they have a plan with UAH where they have a purchase order with UAH. So while they won't hand over the money until after I pass the classes, they'll promise it to UAH who will then leave me alone and let me take my classes! This is a huge praise GOD. Everyones been trying to help me figure out how to pull off tuition and now I don't even have to worry about it! No loans! THANK YOU, GOD.

And once I get the degree, I'm set. I don't even have to look for a job -- I've got one. They're just waiting on me to get my degree so they can give me a huge raise (seriously, 3 times as much as I make now). But I'm kinda freaking out about getting back into classes. I'll still be fulltime at work -- now I'll just have even more on my plate. And as we'll all recall, last time class was on my plate -- the plate broke. The past year ...or two... of classes were horrible -- lots of failures and withdrawals. Of course I'm in a much better place right now -- and can see the prommise land... Ugh. I don't wanna.

But at least it'll be FREE now! And you should see my insurance. I need to go get my cavity filled since that will be 100% free too. This job is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Not THE best -- but it's up there.

Proof that I am a goober:

Our Fourth of July BBQ was excellent. I think that might be the best BBQ I've ever been to. We had like 11 or 12 friends and we had tons of food. And ducks. And a dog. And lots and lots of food. And foam weaponry. And pie. Chad posted a few pictures here on his flickr (clicky) if you wanna check it out. Cause I thought about just posting a ton of pictures -- I had to resist. So go look at them.

The toasters got my dew -- the toasters got my dew.

I'm going to go see Transformers in half an hour. I feel that the movie will not live up to the Mountain Dew commercial -- which, if you haven't seen, you must click here now. But I feel I am required to see it anyway. I honestly think it might be awesome. At least we know the effects are going to blow our minds, and sometimes, thats all you want in a movie.

Do you know what I am wearing to the movie? The size 14 jeans I bought 2 weeks before I had gastric bypass surgery. I went to Ross and picked through the jeans and decided this looked like a small size that I wouldn't mind being. I remember talking to my sister on the phone all excited about how much weight I was gonna lose and she went off on how I was wasting my money. She does that. I bought them anyway. They've been in my closet for 2 years and 2 months. I lost hope that I would ever fit in them. I thought there was no way and I accepted that. And tonight I'm wearing them to the movies.

This is big for me.

Mac & Cheese Recipe

Wednesday all my friends are getting together for a big BBQ out in the suburbs. We're doing it BYOM style (bring your own meat) and everyone is bringing a side dish to share. Nathan requested that I make mac & cheese. Little did he know that my sister Cindy makes the best macaroni & cheese I've ever had in my life. (Yes, even better than the brie mac & cheese at Chef's Table -- but just by a little bit ;) )

I got her to email me the recipe and I'm gonna step out on a limb here and post it. Better print it before I decide that it should only be a family recipe and delete this post ;)


6 tbsp butter (get a box of the sticks of butter. 1 stick is 8 tbsps.)
1/2 cup flour
2 teaspoon salt
1 tbsp dry mustard. (This isnt required, but everyone likes mine better when I use it versus when I dont use it. For some reason, it makes it taste even cheesier.)
4 cups milk
1/2 pound VELVEETA cut up
3-4 cups Shredded Cheddar Cheese , divided
16 oz box macaroni, cooked and drained


1. Melt butter in large saucepan on low heat. Blend in flour, dry mustard, and salt; cook and stir 1 minute. Make sure to stir it around and cook it for the minute before adding the milk. You need to cook the raw taste out of the flour.
2. Gradually add milk; cook, stirring constantly, until thickened. It will take a little while, and you will notice it get a little bit thicker kinda gradually. Dont expect it to get as thick as paste or something, though.
3. Add velveeta and 1 1/2-2 cups of the shredded cheese; stir until melted.
4. Stir in macaroni.
5. Pour into lightly greased casserole pan. It will completely fill up one of the long glass ones, but I dont remember the size of it, 18 x 9 maybe?. You might actually have too much to go into the big casserole, so use the biggest oven safe one you can find. I usually have a little bit of the sauce left over in the pan b/c I cant fit it all into the dish. It wont rise in the oven, though so dont worry about it spilling over when it bakes.
6. Sprinkle casserole with remaining 1 1/2-2 cups cheese.
7. Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes or until the cheese on top is melted, bubbly and crispy. Technically, you can eat the macaroni as soon as its all mixed together, but it gets a lot better when its baked for a little while.

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