Can I put a time blocker on this thing?

Oh wow, I shouldn't be allowed to look around the iTunes music store at night. I should especially not be allowed to purchase things late at night. And man, I was clicking around and only purchasing a few songs -- and I clicked the wrong thing! I ended up buying 5 times as much as I meant to. Ugh. But damn, they downloaded wicked fast. I mean that's impressive.

Sappy post -- with song lyrics no less.

"Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken / Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong / Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone conversation / The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me"

I love this song. I specifically love the line about "your best friend always sticking up for you." I've always wanted that. I've always wanted a man who was that for me -- who was so heartily dedicated to me that he'd defend me even when I'm wrong. Well, still looking... kinda.

I've always wanted that in a man, and here I've found it in one of my best friends. We were chatting on the phone and I thanked her for taking my side on the issue. She said "even if you WERE in the wrong... I'd still take your side." And all I could think was: YES! I finally got it! It's not the package I wanted in, but hey -- I got it.

Erin, you're my person. And my otter.

I wasn't robbed!

I came home from a concert on Friday and found my door wide open. Well, let me back up:

I came home from a concert on Friday at about 12:30am. When I pulled up, I heard a cat wailing. It sounded like Jack -- Jack is very loud. I even called him -- and the cat screamed more. Then when I walked up the stairs, Jack ran up to me. So I figured he got out when I left and I didn't realize it -- he runs out all the time. Then he runs ahead of me and into my apartment. INTO MY APARTMENT. Wait -- what the hell?

The door was wide open. I had to grab a bat and search my house to make sure no one was about to kill me -- and I couldn't sleep because I thought maybe I missed them and they were waiting for me to fall asleep.

Nothing was stolen. My laptop was right there on the couch -- anyone walking by could see it. I was shocked. My bike was stolen -- my muddy shoes were stolen -- but my doors wide open for possibly hours and no one touches a thing. I almost want to have faith in my neighbors -- but then I remember my bike, the bike rack, and my shoes.

And Jack didn't run away! He runs out every chance he gets -- but he had hours and stayed! And Tabitha was sitting in here on the couch -- like she didn't care to go out. I was so proud of them! Jack DOES love me! He was waiting on me to come home! This is the first confirmation from him that he wanted to live with me in the near 2 years that I've had him. I'm so proud of him! And my neighbors!

Can you trust NO ONE?

I'm am so tired of having to second guess everything. When do you get a break? I mean seriously -- you have to be on top of everything. Why does every doctor think I have an ulcer? Hello, I've had ulcers before and this is different. Also, I've been on nexium for 2 months and take the most disgusting liquid to heal ulcers 4 times a day -- oh and you've done an endescope already and decided everything was fine. And two doctors told me I had an ulcer while my gallbladder was rotting inside of me so forgive me if I think you're full of shit just like they were. Is ulcer the default diagnosis or something? Why can't your doctor just fucking listen to you.

Am I about to die or something? I feel like my health is slipping away and my doctors are all full of shit. I'm gonna die and they'll be like -- oh THATS what was wrong with her. Oops.

And I ordered a bunch of pet medicine on the web -- right? But it didn't all arrive -- so I called them and they're like -- "oh yeah, we charged you for it but we're not sending it -- oh, you mean you want a refund? well ok." What the hell?

I'm pissed. And everyones having a breakdown for something or another and they think they're the only one -- we're all having breakdowns, people. We all think life sucks ass.

Ehem. I'm done.

Wait, no I'm not. I hate school. I wish I could quit. I hope that one day I don't have to work or go to school. But I'm not gonna get that wish because that would mean I'd get what I want -- and lord knows that hardly ever happens.

Now I'm done.

MEDIUM!

I took the awesome plaid trench-coat back to target. It was super cute, but if I lost 5 pounds it would be too big -- and as I'm working towards losing more weight -- that's no good. So...

I exchanged it for a size smaller -- a medium! HA! I've never owned anything that was a medium!

Ok, so I'm not a size medium -- this coat seems to just be fluke -- but still! I've kinda not even realized that most things I've bought lately have been a size large -- in fact, I think everything I've bought lately has been a size large. That's amazing. Amazing. Go me!

(I should mention that I'm talking about tops here -- I'm a 14 on bottom)

Drama

Picture this: I came home this evening and went to water my flowers and sit out on the balcony. I do this almost every evening. As I sit down, I realize that my neighbor two balconies over is out on hers. This is unusual. I'm about to say hello but before I can, she yells to a guy across the street. He's at the gas station. She's yelling that his "stuff is down there" (indicating below her balcony). She doesn't sound like she is angry -- more like she is kindly notifying him that some of his things have fallen. He doesn't believe her. To prove it, she goes inside and begins throwing various pairs of tennis shoes over the railing.

At this point I'm way too excited that I get to witness something like this -- it's just like TV! I figure - maybe they're about to fight it out -- and then I'll call the police and it'll be just like Cops! Not so.

The guy crosses the street and she hurries inside and closes the door. He picks up his shoes and tosses them back over the railing and onto the balcony then disappears. Then I see him come from the apartment and gather up his shoes and take them in like nothing happened. All while I'm sitting right there. I didn't hear any yelling or anything -- so it was kind of a big weird let down -- like what the hell was that all about?

I'm happyish, I promise.

I feel the need to post as my last post was a downer. I've been in a great overall mood these last few weeks. I guess people at work might disagree (as mike asked if bitchy and moody was a symptom of gangrene) -- but as far as I'm concerned I'm great. My anxiety has been acting up very badly but my depression is totally under control at the moment.

The other night I played games and had pizza with some friends -- and it seemed like the absolutely perfect night. I doubt they agree, but for me I think that might have been one of the bet evenings of my life -- because I was just happy. And today I went to Target at my moms encouragement to purchase something to wear. I picked up two tops... but I also got a plaid trench coat. Mom pointed out that I am such a sucker for coats. I really am. They're my favorite things to buy -- and I absolutely adore a great tailored knee-length coat -- I swoon for them. So I bought one. And it was something that would hurt my budget and something I could not justify at all. I bought it because I wanted it -- there was no other reason. And that actually made me super happy. It's been a long time since I got to buy an article of clothing without need or justification. It's certainly been since before the surgery so over two years. And the coats a size large! And it's a roomy large - if they had had a medium I'd have tried it on. I love it :) And while I was admiring it in the mirror, 2 people asked me where I got it and if there were more. Because it's awesome. And it looks better on me than it does on the model in the pictures.

And it's getting cooler outside! So yes, my anxiety is off the charts -- but lifes pretty good right now :)

"Obese, psychotic, or taken"

Today at lunch a guy I work with was talking about the two dates he has this week with two women. This led to the guys talking about finding a woman. Which led to one guy telling us that his roommate used to classify girls into three categories: "obese, psychotic, or taken." And of course all the other guys heartily agreed. This made me sad.

Overweight women are totally discriminated against. Most of the time it's a subconscious thing -- but there's constant judging. People look at you different. They talk to you different. They treat you different. I know. And I know you can't really control who you're attracted to, but just hearing it said so bluntly stung. I'm not the 300+lb girl I was -- people treat me totally differently. But I'm still considered fat by the medical community and the majority of people both men and women. And even though I'm not 300lbs anymore -- it hurts to hear people writing off a chunk of the population as disgusting, undateable, and lower-class. To hear them writing ME off as that.

So I was written off as obese. Now am I in the psychotic category? I'm not depressed anymore -- far from it -- and I've no desire to die anytime soon -- but hearing someone say things like that... it just makes me want to kill myself and remove myself from a world that will never accept me. People just suck.

Why you should always get a second opinion. Alternate title: Ew.

Turns out my gallbladder was gangrenous! Yes! There was dead tissue rotting inside me. And the gastroenterologist told me I definitely didn't need it out and that I was making a big mistake if I let Facundus take it out. Good lord! Had I listened to him it could have gotten REAL ugly. I'm glad Facundus pushed to do the surgery as soon as possible rather than letting me wait until November like I wanted. Ugh. No wonder I was hurting.

He's also going to be treating me for anemia now. He's giving me until November to get my levels up to par or "we're going to have to do something." And I don't know what that means but I find Dr Facundus to be very intimidating and I don't want to "disappoint" him. I know that sounds stupid -- but I don't.

So anyway -- yay -- glad I had my gallbladder out :) And I wasn't being a big baby or a hypochondriac after all!

Free printer cartridge refills!

Wednesday September 12th, Walgreens is giving out free printer cartridge refills! Checkout Walgreens.com to see participating stores (though I don't think it's working -- I tried to look up our walgreens and it didn't have the icon signifying participation but then their weekly add says they are). So it's FREE -- and printer cartridges are expensive -- so put your ink cartridge in the car NOW so you'll have it when you're on your way home from work Wednesday. I'm going to be hitting up two different stores myself ;)

What a sexy sexy man.



Look at Johnny Depp rocking the hair and the sunglasses! That man is 20 years older than me and I still wouldn't hesitate. I think he just gets hotter as time passes. Lord help. What a sexy sexy man.

Pimento Cheese

I just made my own homemade pimento cheese.



I've never been a huge fan of pimento cheese -- but then it also never occurred to me that you could make a grilled cheese sandwich with it. That's right -- I saw Paula Dean make one and about fell over. It's a bunch of different cheeses (including cream cheese), mayo, pimentos (mild peppers), and black pepper. Melted. On bread with butter. Holy shit. I'm about to make a sandwich right after I hit post... Yummy.

Update: That was gross. It would be much better without the pimentos. Anyone want some homemade pimento cheese?

Don't you just want to snuggle him?

My goodness -- he's just so freaking cute!

Florida pictures!

I didn't realize that I haven't posted any Florida pictures yet! I just posted some on my Flickr page. I was 180 on this trip! And now I'm down to 175! I'm so psyched! I'm a size 14 now :) And there's picture of my momma and sister in there too. You should check them out -- really, cause I want you to.




Labor Day Fare

Happy Labor Day! Today I've watched Clifford the Red Dog and Murder She Wrote. You can see how occupied I've been. But I have been cooking a fine Labor Day dinner. Last night I put on a pork loin to do BBQ in the crock pot. Last time I made it, it didn't come out too well. It was good -- but not great. And as Chad points out (ass) it was too salty -- even by my salt-loving standards. So this time I actually went to the trouble to look up recipes.

I don't really follow a recipe per se -- I just gather multiple recipes together. I look at what the common themes are and the rest is just that persons additions. Then I do my own thing how I want. So rather than cooking the pork loin in barbecue sauce like I did last time, I cooked it in the rub it marinated in, with a small onion, vinegar, and water -- 12 hours on low. This morning I drained it, tossed the onions (I hate them) and used a fork to pull apart the pork. THEN I added the barbecue sauce and cooked it another 3 hours. And this time it is much better. And to all my salt-hating friends, it's not salty at all -- I had to add salt to it when I put it on a bun :-p

I know I'm not a great cook by chef and food-network standards, but I like to think I'm pretty good. I'm constantly getting better too. I wouldn't mind having a restaurant. I know it's not a real possibility -- don't think I'm saying it's my goal. But I wouldn't mind it. I could start small with a cart or delivery lunch business -- progress to owning a shit-hole and then end up like Blue Plate Cafe where you get three choices for lunch that day -- the food is not gourmet but it hits the spot and the price is right.

Speaking of, I'm dreading going back to work. Seriously -- and I don't know why. I like where I work. I like my coworkers. But the past two nights I've had nightmares about it, I'm dreading it, and I'm developing stress-ulcers. There's no good reason for this. I think it's just the never-ending of it. A semester ends. Work does not. I'm not going to be not-working for like 50 years. That freaks me out.

Cheap band-aids suck and my body hates me (much like my car)

I was allergic to the Target-brand band-aids I've had on my stomach all week. Who knew? I've never had an identified allergy problem! I've never had a problem with band-aids and I use them lots! I thought the itching was the pain meds and the incisions (from the surgery). I thought the redness was because I kept changing the band-aids and they were really sticky on sensitive skin. Steph pointed out that I might be allergic to them so today I took them off. Now I have perfectly band-aid shaped areas of inflamed, red, scaly skin. Each with an incision in the middle. And they were big band-aids too -- not the little ones. It's gross. It's shitty. It's itchy. And it makes me feel like a big fat moron looking back at the signs I missed. Beware of the cheap band-aids. I knew I should have got the pirate ones.




Powered by Blogger


eXTReMe Tracker