Alone surrounded by people.

This is for sure a random read, but as you all know I just write. Think and type.....

Ok, I get pissed...I say "Fuck this a lot". I feel,-- and then I really feel. I have had a hard time lately. I let things get to me, that I would of shrugged off before. I want the last fucking word. Well always have, but now I almost feel as though I have lost my control or my "It factor" if I don't get what I want, or last word.

Here is an example. I went to the grocery on my way home from work, when I got home I realized a bag did not make it home with me. I cried. What the hell is that? Its bullshit,  I need to get a grip.

I have been talking to a friend from high school, for some reason I cannot let go of a specific conversation. Its because I feel rejected for not getting the answer I want. When all I am trying to do is help them. Get out of their own fucking pity party and look at the good part of life.

This reflects my mind back to a dark place. I feel shy, ashamed, lost, and scared. I feel as if  I am alone amidst a crowd of people. With a perpetual lump in my throat. That wanes with the feeling of screaming.

What fucking scares me is I can feel my mother. How she would explain her life struggles. I get her more now than ever. What a shitty thing to do, you mom should be here now. Reap what you sowed.

Life has taken an unexplained complexity that I don't understand. Its poof shit happened-- now deal. But I just want to crawl in bed, let the wold keep turning until I fall out at the right time. But I cant do that. She would have. No responsibilities.

I want a freedom button to press and pause reality while I let the wind blow my hair, the chill numb my nose. I want to smoke a cigarette and drink a bottle of wine, while eating chocolate. Dance the night away, all while looking beautiful. Catching all eyes and smiles. Warm fuzzy feeling and smiling back.

I want my hair to grow back - now. Lose the last 15 pounds. I want to dream again. I stopped.

I really want people to just accept and get me. To say it. A unsolicited compliment. I so desire that. A patient remembered my name the other day and embraced my arm between his, spoke my name said thank you while wishing me a happy holiday. (mid 50's) Do you know that gave me chills? A recognition, a person took the time to remember. It made me swallow hard, as I wanted to hug him with a tear stained face and say thank you thank you!!!!

The little lost girl comes out this time of year. It is a raw time emotionally. I feel almost as if I put on someone else's shoes daily.

Writing is what I do, this is how I replenish and recharge. I am blessed with more than most. I am not ungrateful. Just alone, surrounded by people. Love me, and hold me, wrap the wings around me, give me emotional shelter. That is what I need.
My ACE will not read this, they are very important. My muse might read this. My heart might skim it. Few will get to the end and "Get It".

Santa, bring me a sign my mom is at peace this year.
To the stars, shine and let me wish upon you. Twinkle and keep magic alive.

Redhead Speaks

Today, and yesterday have sucked hard. Stop - that is a lie. The last few months have sucked. I have held in feelings, guilt, resentment, betrayal and just shit.

So Walter gets sick, is dying, not dying, dying. Shit Shit I am going to be a widow. A marriage of failures after one anotherI feel. Well this all results in my love for  Walter back and greater than ever. Desperate measures call for bargaining, guilt. Can even bring a marriage out of a cave.

Skip forward (pun intended) Now I had a episode of a heart irregularity a bit back and fainted at work. = Panic attack. Well I will  throw it out there I had been on Zoloft for years, at the max dose for several years. So we switch to Lexapro. Well it changed plenty. I feel, as if my insides are of a teenage boy......and I FEEL. ANGER, CRYING, want to scream my bloody guts out. Was I numb? Yes, and no.

Fast forward.........today, yesterday.....last month. FUCKING CHAOS!!!!!!! To the tenth power squared. I found out that our Social Network best friend, can get your ass in a world of shit quick. LOST in TRANSLATION people. Don't put anything out there you don't want taken the wrong way. Hell I was pregnant, lying, hussy, and I partied like it was 1999. I enjoyed the connection to my friends, guys, girls, gay friends, all kindsof people who share much in common with me. People whom I love and have known longer than I knew my own Mother.(that is sad) My interest has now changed. I look almost at every character prior to posting. I am on the radar. A place us aliens don't belong.

My personal struggles are still personal issues but are now under a microscope. I have become resentful and angry. I am a person who yes, bends the rules, goes against the grain. LIVES and am ME as a result. I am proud of who I am. Where I came from.......a passed out drunk mother....raised myself, until I lived with a bachelor father, and despite all dysfunctionality, turned out as a great nurse, wonderful mother, have honor roll children whom love and adore me. I have an open door policy with them, they can ask me anything. And they do.

You know there are some who will fault my dad, criticize him. Hell I have also. I think now. He was in his 20's with a pre-teen alone, without money attempting to raise me. Yeah what you get now.....imagine it back then. I was HELL to deal with. Now, I have solid sound morals, don't do drugs, never went to jail. Still married and have a damn good job. My father is my best friend. He worked his ass off and sacrificed himself and his life for me. Plus has been the best grandfather to my boys. His "do-over" that he could not when I was little.

My mother? Easy way out. Outta sight Outta mind. Oh yeah and a .45 to the head 5 1/2 years ago. I guess I did OK. I was raising a 1 year old and 4 year old, and working full time running an OR during her suicide. The kids are so much better off they didn't know that's what some parents are like. I could have given up. Why not? It gave me strength to be better as a person.

I don't blame my past at all. It has made me WHO I am. Bitter-yes at times. Solid. You wont break me. I get to break me. Only me. I can pick apart my own life, and better it as I choose. I do not not choose to change at this point.

People can take me or leave me, no partial acceptance.
I have sacrificed much of my life taking care of others, my family, past on family. My mother, my children, my husband.

My choice is to not grow up to other's standards. I grow on my own time. If I chose to dance I will. If my kids and I jump on the bed and sing we will. If I am the "cool" mom its because I had a "cool" dad that my adult friends still remember and wish he was theirs.  I have a tall seat to fill. One day I will.

Today is just that. I have no idea what the future holds, but we cannot take it with us now. Love Love Love and Live. Laugh, Dance, Sing. Be whom your heart tells you to be. Fall nothing short of your own expectations, don't judge! When you have no imperfections then, and only then may anyone hold the key to judge. That's why we are all different. I don't want to be Susie Homemaker (never did). If I did I would never had aspired to hold a beating heart - which I have many times.
My home may not be the cleanest on the block, but every patient I saw today, was taken care of  better than any other nurse in sight of me. My children -boys  9& 6 run off the bus into my arms unashamed. We do homework together.They eat and are clean, and want to show me everything they can and are excited about.  I could give a rats ass about the laundry at that moment. But one day it will get done. A good dear friend (SMKR) would give a time CST smart ass time answer (he he he). I am not that precise. One day is good enough for me, my husband and that is....what it is.

Back in the saddle again.

So I decided to go back to my hearts passion. Surgery. I am in love every day with my job. I have decided that the rush of a trauma is exhilarating, and holding a heart in your hand is humbling......I enjoy Plastic surgery. LOVE IT!!!! I can do anything in the OR, but what I like is different.

I thought oh piece of cake easy, and I will be rejuvenated ....... What the hell was I thinking? I am tired as hell. I wear the shape up shoes.....yes they work, your feet feel grand yet your ass, thighs and calves feel like you have been working out every day.

I am proud to go into the locker room and change into small or extra small scrubs. YES!!!!

My tattoo fetish has seen many awesome ink recently.

I have a scrub nurse who calls me Raggedy Ann, another calls my Nurse Jackie. A running joke with a anesthesiologist thinks I look like a 'Stacy" so that's what he calls me. His first name is Larry, I call him Rick.

Back to plastics......tummy tucks, lipo, new boobs, new face, new eyes....making people beautiful one at a time. Would I have it myself....? No. Not to say that one day I wont indulge with new boobs......you do see so many that have normal wear and tear turned into 18 year old awesomeness.

Oh and we have a new form of Plastic surgery on the rise.....Vaginal reconstruction. Yes people. "My vagina's appearance gives me low self esteem" I don't like the way this side looks. "I want a new Hymen" Can you remove this little mole?
This is a very interesting group of women. New divorces young 30's.... amazing. Pictures, they will whip out magazine shots and say "make sure Dr. Va JJ make it look like this one" and its not Oprah Magazine I am talking.
Same with boobs, out comes Hustler or whatever and no shame.

I enjoy it. I guess I get to live a radical life vicariously through some people.

Surgery is wonderful, in Houston in the summer. Its 110 degrees outside, 90% humidity...oppressive heat. Inside the surgical suite a crisp 58-62 degrees with a humidity of 48%. Put on my jacket and enjoy free air conditioning as a job perk!!

Waiting......tick tock.......watch the clock.

OK it has been a game of hurry up and wait, and wait, and.......yes WAIT!!!! I know I am not alone when I want to scream from a mountain top "What is the Fucking diagnosis!!!!", But This is the first time I am talking about it.

We are living our very own Mystery Diagnosis (Thx Shammy) it is mind boggling.

I have to back up, start from the beginning almost 40 pounds ago. Hmmm almost 6 weeks ago. Unintended weight loss, pain, mystery symptoms.

Walter had a stomach ache about 6 weeks ago, and I woke up to him sitting straight up in bed very uncomfortable and is what appeared pretty good pain. He was up most of the night with a stomach ache, that I was convinced was a Gallbladder attack. I was wrong.

The next day he visited the GI MD, and two days later a EGD was scheduled.

I went in and was able to see the cavernous ulcers that obliterated his stomach. Like a bomb had gone off. Bat shit bad. Biopsy after biopsy was taken, picture after picture. Results all negative. Great now on the road to getting better. Wrong.

He continued to hurt and suffer pain through his back, daily struggle for him to eat. So more tests. To find the gallbladder the guilty party.

Ultra sound of the gallbladder, shows a thickening of the pancreatic duct."Tumor" was mentioned in the office. Fuck that's great.......Off for more tests.

MRI and Blood Work.

Well the 2 different MRI's that were done were inconclusive. Bastard Magnets.  Now Walter has to flush twice after he pees as he is eliminating a radioactive isotope he was given for one test.

Still waiting and nothing, yet he is loosing 1-2 pounds a day, and always feels horrid, and sleeps like a teenager. Wears my gym shorts, and has not a ounce of fat on him. My worry remains with me. he and I really have yet to speak about it.

I cannot describe my feelings. They are so all over the map. Map of holy shit give a answer please.

So during this time that feels now like a year I resigned as the social worker/RN for the state and spending my days in the Ghetto. Thinking that maybe, me being in the most crime filled areas of town daily was adding to Walter's stress. Maybe this would help him not worry about me. Back to the OR. YES YES YES for me. Still has not given any answers.

So back to mystery diagnosis. What is wrong. I sit down and talk to Walter. ask him how he feels, what are his thoughts. The patches of hair on his legs that are missing from him scratching the hair off, from intractable itching. I ask what is that all about, here it comes. He responds "Hodgkin's Itch". I sit patiently and talk to him and stay calm. Those who know me, understand this takes a huge amount of self control. 

I go into the bedroom, look up Hodgkin's and non Hodgkin's......I go back and ask Walter why if after everything he has been through he is scheduled for yet another test, this time a CT.

His response Tumor, Lymphoma.......

I go back to the bedroom and stare at the laptop, and lose it. Completely lose it.

I cry and cry and think up every terrible outcome and situation we could be facing.

This is hard, but I go back to Walter and tell him I am here till the end no matter what is wrong. I also tell him I would take it all myself to relieve him. I am so torn with guilt, sadness, love, anxiety, the unknown. This is what you do when you are married. You are in it for good and bad. Sometimes when the bad comes, it makes all the trivial shit seem completely meaningless. Nothing matters but who you love. I cannot picture myself ever without Walter. At points in our marriage be both have thought of being apart. Not now. Our boys just think Daddy has a tummy ache. which really is all we are going on at this point.

He is weak, starting the weed eater this morning was too much for him and he went to pass out. This scared me. When I rub his back and feel his ribs it scares me.

No matter the diagnosis, we should get results tomorrow on CT. I am a nurse. His nurse. His wife. His love. I am whatever he needs me to be.

This sounds very dramatic. I understand. I am not being a alarmist. I am doing what I do, writing for the therapeutic elimination it gives me. I am also getting it out, talking about the Elephant that is everywhere we turn.

Regardless of the final diagnosis, a wake up call in ones life is never a bad thing. We all need a gentle reminder of what is important. Love the one you are with, hug them how you used too. Pray for them not you.  Let the small bullshit issues fall within your fingers like the sand. They are not important. Hold on, you have strength you never knew you had.

Goodbye hell hole job. Hello Surgery......I have Missed you.

Well, it have not been a long journey but I have learned SO much, gained some street smarts, know more than I should about illegal drugs and living environments of our poor population.

What happened?......Well Walter had a procedure a couple of weeks ago. I was allowed to go back with him. Surgical suite........my eyes glowed, my heart quickened, and my nostrils took in the smell of sterility. I was home.

I left when he was done and anesthesia had worn off. I got home and the itch started. I went back to work the next day and it was a Monday. I worked but there was something different. I was freaked out about roaches that crawled over my feet in the field, I was unhappy driving, and kept thinking "Why? Why am I doing this?" I am very emotionally fulfilled by it, but something changed.

The following Sunday night I had insomnia, could not sleep for anything. So I made up a family emergency and called in on Monday. Threw out some texts and e-mails and had a job that day. Completed my drug test, TB, CPR etc the next day on the down low at work. I turned in my notice last Friday.  My resignation was accepted and today I was allowed to leave with a 2 week severance. WOW!!!! I start my new job Tuesday. I am happier than a pig in shit. My brain is wired for the Operating Room. Its like a old friend, you finish each others sentences, know what the person will do next....The OR has been that way for me. Comfort. I never would of left had I not injured my shoulder while working..... But it did allow me other opportunities that has made me well rounded more so as a nurse.

Now....what hat shall I wear? And shoes....my Red patent leather Dansko clogs or the Tiger eye Patent ones?.....

Bitch, Bitchy, Bitch like, being a bitch.......

I complain a lot, I am not always just in my complaints. I do however feel just today. I feel that I have been hit with this topic. A comment that cannot be taken back. The bell cannot be un-rung.

BITCH is the most degrading thing in MY opinion that a man can call a woman. Others may not agree, it is a cardinal rule broken when called to woman by a man regardless of his anger or why he said it. (I like the answer that If the woman had done...A, B, or C he wouldn't of had too)

Oh or that he doesn't understand what the big deal is. Its a big fucking deal when a man cannot understand the big deal.
A man should never call a woman a bitch in the presence of children. Just my opinion. You all know when I get passionate about things I get on my soap box. (Today its Tide with febreze).

I am a very independent woman and hold myself to many high standards that I also hold others to. It bothers me that men today have lost a piece of the chivalry they used to have. When did being a man to a woman go away....?

I hear of these things and maybe have been witness to them myself. Regardless of my way of stumbling on this topic, I will speak out of both sides of my mouth. I think women should be independent and hold their ground in society. However I think old fashioned in the way men and woman should be when in a relationship or marriage (yes that came from ME). Car door open, kiss on the cheek, hold the door open. Tell her she looks beautiful. Shelter her like the woman she is. But that is what I think. I think simple shows of affection have gotten lost along the way.

My heart smiles when I see a older couple holding hands. They still have what never left them.

Think about it, the next time you are with your gal or guy tell them they are handsome, or pretty. Grab their hand and give it a kiss "for no reason". Embrace what you have. It is special and if you take care of it, will stay that way. Oh and to the gals, wear more leave a little to the imagination. I like that about Walter, he is a man that thinks a dress is too short or inappropriate because its too revealing. (many men would have their tongues hanging out showing off that trophy!!)

Never call a woman a BITCH. Just don't. Its wrong, it will hurt.
Never call a man a ASSHOLE to his face. Its a two way street.

Dreams

I dream all the time. Mostly of stuff that has no meaning at all, and some are just plain disturbing. However dreams like last night I hate. I do not like dreaming of things that could be real and make you question if it happened etc.
 Mother's day 2004 my aunt (mother's sister) was 40 and had only been 40 for 2 months when she had a massive heart attack. She stayed in a vegetative state like the lady in Florida that was all over the news. Terri Shivo (Sp?) for almost a month, and passed. It was sick awful. Well at the same time my grandmother - her mom had been battling ovarian cancer since 2001. She did not have the 2 chemotherapy's scheduled over the time Sandy was either in the hospital or inpatient Hospice. Well she should not of done that in hindsight. She lost her battle 2 weeks to the day that Sandy died. Both on a Sunday. Both in June. Nobody not even Walter knows that June is a hard moth for me. Wait that is not true, a dear friend also thinks the month of June suck too. That friend has had similar loss.
I usually just breeze through June and try not to think of it. One year it came and went and I went shit! It's possible to not think about the memories of that year, that month. Those were the moments that lead up to my mother less then 2 years later putting a gun to her head, only to be found by a neighbor.
Well back to my dream, I was dreaming I had woken up and was at my grandmother's house. I got up went to the bathroom and saw bottles of booze, wine glass, and mouthwash. Oh and what appeared to be vomit near the toilet. Any of you with a alcoholic in the house or growing up have seen this at least once. I cleaned the mess, and went to get coffee. My aunt was already having coffee. She startled me. She began to tell me that my grandmother had been in the attic trying to find the pluming problem. (My grandmother did go into the attic, we were always mad that something would happen to her) Plumbing problem was a palm tree that had grown through the wall, and my grandmother had cut it down. We cracked up about that, and had coffee. They always had the best coffee. Pure Kona, my grandmother would get from a Butcher of all places. Just me and Sandy.
That was a dream. But it seemed so real. You know looking back today is the day she passed away 7 years ago. I miss her. I wonder does this mean in two weeks Nanny will visit me in a dream?
You know during that awful 2 weeks back then something magical happened. I conceived a son, who 9 months later was born on Sandy's birthday. If that does not make you believe in angels, or Divine intervention what will? 

Glass Eyes, Bed Bugs, Horses in traffic....all in a day!

Chaos Chaos Chaos has been my life the last month. I have had to work in the "real office" instead of my home office. That has added about 2 hours to my day. Crazy end of school year, here there everywhere. Yet the lack of excitement flame will never burn out! I am back.

I laughed so hard to myself yesterday as a friend said to me with a straight poker face "so - your work now is like the movie Precious?" Yes that is very spot on to an extent with the addition that my patient are usually dying.
I have a day a few weeks ago that I thought I had seen and heard it all. But its me right? Everyday is a new day.

So I go to a older woman's dorm room like dwelling to see her as she just got out of the hospital. Now most of my people have some sort of physiological component, so she was no different. (wrong) I am talking......and she says she has "Bed bugs" Ok - Sure you do, and I go on.......I start to see little roaches strutting across the stove and the counter, and I say "oh! I see you have some critters....are these the bugs you are talking about?" "No Honey-those are roaches. I got bed bugs" Dear 8lb baby Jesus she now thinks I am an idiot. So her son who reeks of alcohol shows me the underside of the bed. Holy SHIT she does have them. Thousands!!!!! My first purely selfish thought - I am gonna get them!!!!!NO. NO. NO. So I finish as quick as humanly possible itching the entire time. I leave.

I then go see a guy with a glass eye that I could not stop starring at. Still itching and convinced I now have a infestation of bedbugs on my person in my bag, and anywhere else the little fockers are hiding. I end that visit.....

Now I am on my way home determined not to bring them home I deliberate in the traffic. I think of all the horrid 20/20 specials, Internet scare tactics, news shows and on and on about these bastard bugs. I sit with Bruce's top down, thinking maybe the sun will just burn them. Well I indeed received a nice sun burn on the left side of my arm/face. I am in traffic..... and I am thinking about the day, how am I going to eradicate this woman's bug infestation, glass eye....damn they did a good job on that one. The smell of my sunburn coming on, I think I still have to document all this shit on my laptop, but I cannot bring my bag inside my house! I must stop somewhere on the way home. Starbucks! Yes great idea a coffee my laptop and the bugs can release themselves into the coffee house. Yes I know this is wrong....but what if I didn't know? I look up and I shit you not, in the middle of all the traffic coming against traffic in the CITY, was a young man - not police man hauling ass in a full gallop on a horse. I sit in my car cracking up out loud. I have seen it all. But I know I have not.

I go to Starbucks, disrobe in the car as much as possible and scour myself in the shower. No bedbugs came into my home. I did get the woman a new bed, had all her clothes cleaned. Her place was professionally de-bugged 3 times. I feel good about it and she does to. She can sleep at night. Never will I underestimate what someone tells me. Or automatically assume they are a wee bit bonkers.  You know if I ever loose a eye......I feel good that my fake glass eye will look as good as the man I saw that day. I still cannot get over how real it looked.

Who knows what my next adventure will bring, but it will be hard to top a full galloping horse in city traffic.......

My in office Ear Surgery.......Yeah

Last Tuesday I awoke to a throbbing earache, a pain that would not allow me to sit still. I go to the Dr....antibiotics and a diagnosis of ear infection. Hmm could of told ya that. Days of pain, dizziness and loss of hearing made my life pretty much hell this last 10 days.

So Monday I go back.....I get a nice injection of antibiotics in my ass that lit me on fire. Holy Crow some shots will bring a tear to your eye. I should be better within 24 hours. Yes I will be able to hear, and my pain will go away. Hmmmmm, wait we are talking about me right? Fail. I am not better. Shit now off to the ENT.

So I go to a fantastic guy, wait, wait, see the audiologist who preforms a barrage of tests that in my opinion are sheer torture to a person with a ear infection and pain. But it does prove my testimony that I cannot fucking hear in my left ear. Nice, now its roaring pounding off to go sit in the waiting room again.

Dr, comes in tells me about the hearing loss I told them about, looks and sees the fluid and bubbles behind my eardrum.....yes.....and yes......so now the options. There are not many options. Waiting another week - like this will not be an option for me. Surgery - nice, I don't want to wait. So I am left with a decision.....do it in the office? What you may be thinking? A Myringotomy - a surgical incision into the eardrum. I say hell yes bring it!

So I sign my consent, look at the instruments.....start to feel like maybe I am making a huge mistake. I am by myself, what if this hurts so bad I cannot stay on the table and he slices into my inner ear and becomes a surgical emergency!? What if my ear starts bleeding and he has to stop it, I know I wont be able to handle that. What do I do........Go for it, this Red Head is tough. However last Tuesday Walter would have debated that to the death, as I layed on my bed crying, body shaking from ear pain, just needing to hold his hand while I waited for the medications to kick in. That was a bad way, labour pain was nothing in comparison to this, nor tearing traumatically my rotator cuff in my shoulder.

I digress. So I lay down on the table, and await the Dr. Oh God my hands are sweating bad, like wetting the tissue sheet on the table. Really what does that tissue prevent? He asks me to lay on my back and turn my head and inserts a ear speculum, this is not at all comfortable. Oh no, I have made a mistake the bare minimum is uncomfortable. I ask, can I move my legs really quick? Yes...I bend my knees and hold my hands in a white knuckle clasp across my stomach. OK the worst is death. That will not happen. Calm down.

So he says "hold still" I am going to put some Phenol on your eardrum to numb it. Deep breath, its OK I can do it. HOLY SHIT!!!!! I yell while laying completely still. The door was open, and I know without a shadow of doubt the office heard me. So I then say, that's it right? No I have to numb a bit more. FUCK!!!! comes out that time without any control, involuntary loud profanity. I apologized, but said it hurt. I am now sweating my ass off, and really thinking I have made a horrible mistake but to far in to stop. I am thinking POW interrogation, at this point I would have given it all up....I tell him I need a few seconds to breathe so I do not pass out on him. He says, don't work yourself up. No - I am not working myself up, but I do know how I feel prior to fainting. Before anything further I hear a scratch scratch kinda noise.....he just went ahead with that scalpel. So I am dead man still, I know the blade is in my ear. Not a sound utters from my body, I am not sure my heart was even beating. Then he says I am going to suction you now. Nice --Suction in your ear at your eardrum, is worse that a million freaking fingernails scraping a chalkboard. Done. WHAT?! That was it? The entire time from him starting with the speculum to done was really maybe 3 minutes or less. Eternity it felt like. Now home, I have more hearing, a little pain, but I do not feel disconnected. I know it was a complete success. If I hold my nose and pressurize my ears, warm air comes out my bad ear.....freaky!

The joy of marriage.

Some years ago.....over a decade I married Walter. Don't get me wrong we have had our many shares of ups and downs, around the bush, up the tree, swim from Alcatraz to now.

It started with a beautiful proposal, of which my insanely $$ engagement ring fell through the slats on the wooden porch that night leaving us to dig and hunt to find it and I loved it! I was engaged!!!!

Here comes the "only me" parts. Day of the wedding.....I am dressed, ready guests are being seated on the balcony of a historic plantation style mansion. Its very cold outside and the heat is not working. Nice everyone is freaking freezing waiting.

Update.....oh by the way, the DJ, Cake, and something else was not there. Shit! I kick up my heels and start drinking, this is going down bad I can tell. Why!!?? OK now its time......Shit I am buzzed

I grab my dad's arm for dear life and stability and start down the isle.....wait what do I hear? No not the music that was playing....no something else.....Walter was standing proud crying at the alter loud! Sup Supping....Jesus really? Then my mother....yes she was sober I think crying also. Dammit!!! Between those two they needed a corner to cuddle and cry. Some how a used tissue lands on my train, and its a creme orange color....tissue not my dress. Nice. My maid of honor looked at it with horror yet let it just hang out on my dress.
We say our vows and exchange rings. We are DONE and Married!!! Now off to the brides room for the girls to bustle my gown right? Not! they were down guzzling booze and eating shrimp brochette. So it was Walter who bustled my gown.
We had catered Pappasitos, Damn it was good. We danced, oh yeah my first dance with my new hubby....my father cuts in not 30 seconds into it. Walter whispers "does he not know he has his own song?!"
Fast forward.....off to the airport from wedding, that was the only way I was getting on a plane. I used to be dreadfully scared to fly. Walter didn't believe me until my drunk ass is at the boarding gate with my bridal up do, crying in hysterics! We are all gonna die! I even called my father to get me as I could not get on the plane. Walter says "You really are scared to fly" No shit! I had been saying so for a fucking year! They upgraded us to 1st class, I was unable to get anyone to come get me, so I was married now I will go die.

Wow 1st class can change your opinion of flying, I was good. We get to Breckenridge Colorado for our ski trip. Short story, I acquire severe altitude sickness, in the hospital where I am going into pulmonary edema, and my blood pressure was 70/palp. I was sick sick. Walter takes A SINGLE snowboard lesson and breaks his tail bone. Son of a Bitch we were a team man!

We get back, and in the 36 hours from wedding to back home my landlord had left me a message that his daughter was getting married and wanted to live in the house, we were just given a 30 day notice.

Well we moved into a small 1 bedroom apartment. (Our neighbors screwed like rabbits every day) you could hear everything through the wall. Well with Walter's broken tailbone.....we were ugh married but not indulging in marital duties if you will for about 6 weeks. I know this just gets worse huh?

I have endometriosis, poly cystic ovarian, and had cervical cancer and the majority of my cervix was removed. Thus the probability of getting pregnant and carrying a baby was....not real good. Poor to never per my OB/Gyn. So we tried. Guess what Preggo. First try, and in this apartment with a 2 year lease. I put away our marriage licence for safe keeping, still cannot find it. Really its pretty safe.

Went on bed rest at 4 months.....only to lay and listen to the MF-ing neighbors screw every day.....Hate them.

Fast forward.....Walter's tail bone still gives him a hard time. For the last week he has been looking for his wedding ring. He took it off......cannot find it. So I give him a hard time. He reminds me of the marriage license. Maybe the two are together.

I have left SO much out, but with just that you do get the picture. I would not trade one thing. Its us. Well I would change one small detail of the wedding.....at Walter's bachelor party - you see he came home with a huge hickey on his neck from a stripper. My issue with it.....its in all of our wedding pictures! I did however have a bite mark on my neck front and center, at La Bare I place a dollar in my cleavage and the stripper whom I remember to look like Maks took it out with his teeth! Catching my neck, he immediately apologized, and off to the bathroom to check the damage. Fuck! Thank you to my grandmother nanny who allowed my to wear a original strand of Mikimoto Pearls my grandfather brought back from the Korean war. Covered the mark just fine!......Never happened.

Try and top this day. This Random day....

This morning started off bad, as Walter had taken all of my cash. I always carry cash when I am out in the Ghetto in the event I get robbed. So now I have to go get money. Grrr. I stop at the gas station as Bruce is out of gas. Have you ever pulled the gas nozzle out before you are done? Well don't. Its very messy. Not to mention embarrassing.

OK on from there. I get on the freeway and head toward the ghetto.......then out of nowhere a gunshot! Bang - I am talking loud!!!! I for a minute I actually think I have been shot! I was not, my car was however capped. Why? Who the hell knows. I was just grateful that I was not injured. Or a tire blown out on the freeway. So I continue to the my patients house.

What a mess.....the patient is slipping into sleep as I am talking to her....why? She is on some heavy duty meds and so are the people in the house. Have not seen that much twitching and watching out the window then on Intervention. A familiar smell also. I smelled after the meth lab across the street from my house blew up there was a distinct odor in the air. It was here too. My patient is on hospice and I swear she is going to die right there on my watch. I am writing down all of her medications. Thinking to myself WTF has happened to this day? I have spilled gas on me, was shot at, and now am in what I feel safe to say is a crack house with a meth lab......

Off again to see another patient....when doing nothing but driving here comes the PO PO. I am being pulled over....REALLY?!! Why? Oh well it seems I was suspiciously driving in the neighborhood I was in. I might have been buying DRUGS!!!! I get out of the car, so they can take a quick look in my vehicle. Seriously? I am not a drug addict nor am I buying..... Fucking asshole. I explained I was a RN, I have my name badges on, my briefcase, my CPR kit, Emergency bag, all of my stuff that shows what I do....I was apologized to, and told to be safe. I was not in a great area. No shit Sherlock....what gave you that idea? Hmm the "working girls on the street?" The obvious drug deals in front of you? or the fact I was shot at earlier.....I swear. I appreciate it, but I got Howled yes Howled at by several black guys as I was released to go.

To my last patient, walk around the very nice kept grounds searching for her apartment. Hoping its not one of the ones missing windows....Oh wait----she isn't home. Why? She went to jail this morning. That ends my day. I am not going to the county jail to do an assessment. Not happening.

So I end my day driving through Chick Fil A to get a sandwich, I was starving. Get to the window, pay and take off thinking Eat More Chickin really has a good thing going for them. I look in my bag a quarter mile down the road......No sandwich.---- Nuggets, and mayo.

Karma is a real bitch.

I must of done someone wrong. It got me back today. Thing is, I have done so many things that I don't know what or when it was. (That made me giggle). Along with the smell of gasoline that is soaked into my pores!

Teeth, Bunnies, & Money

Oh help me Rhonda!!! (notice Rhonda never helps...?) My youngest son looses his first upper front tooth this past weekend in the swimming pool. I cringed!! Not for him, but for me. That is a tooth that wont be in my porcelain container of teeth from the boys. (kinda grim...who cares). What can I do to out do the last tooth fairy visit???

You see as a child I got a silver dollar for every tooth I lost. Gave it to my dad for "Safe keeping" only to find out 30 years later I got the same silver dollar. My father recycled it. Bastard! I say this with great respect, gotta hand it to the man - great idea.

Well the first tooth my oldest lost was a Super milestone in our home for me. I waited up late, left a note that took me for-ever to make (artistic me? NO) even a trail of glitter from the bed to the window. I think it was 5$, whatever it set the bar so high I screwed myself big time for life on the tooth thing.
So every tooth lost since has had to be super crazy fantastic. I forgot all about it as the boys had spent the night at my dad's that night. When we came home the following afternoon with the new DRUM SET (Holy Mother of God Loud!!) my mind was elsewhere. So where the kids. Whew got out of that one! WRONG last night my youngest comes to me and says "Mama we need to write the tooth fairy a letter and put it under my pillow". Great idea toothless hillbilly!! Dancing with the Stars is on and I cannot miss MAKS! Lets write that letter. So I become the court reporter and write as he talks. Put it under his pillow, off to sleep he goes (he has a switch or something). My older one is laying awake next to him......tick tock not asleep. I go into my purse to make a origami something out of a dollar shit, all I have is a 20 dollar bill. So I go ask Walter who is knee deep in his Netflix via X-Box National Geographic show....(yes I know) for a dollar. He has no cash. What in the hell are we going to do!? I begged Walter to run up to the corner store get a lotto ticket  or anything to make change. His response was "just put the 20$ in there or go raid their piggy bank. No I am not stealing from the piggy bank, as for a fact there are no bills in it. Also a tooth =$20 hell no. After his "Special" is over he goes and brings me change. I love him!!!! I try to fashion it into a airplane. I have google opened and am following directions, and its just not working-fail. So I ask Walter again for help, he takes the bill and ta daa a fighter jet. Bad Ass!!!!Now if the older son would just go to sleep! Finally he does and with swift Ninja like skill I am in and out in a flash! He was so happy the following morning bedhead with a hillbilly grin!

Now here is another HUGE thought. Easter is this weekend. When I was little I got Peeps, Chocolate Bunny and a stuffed animal. Done.
Not these days, Easter baskets, are like a jackpot of wants and desires.
Last year I should of just drove past Wal Mart throwing $100 out the window into the parking lot. Why you might be thinking......? Because I spent at least that much at Wal Mart. So Easter Eve as I tra la la la out to the car to get the loot to make the Easter Baskets I lay out everything to find it all Ruined!!!! Genious here left the shit in my Mini's boot to stay safe and hidden. (trunk. that holds maybe 2 pair of  real boots) All to melt. ALL DESTROYED. No Time, cannot do a midnight run Easter basket shopping still partially crocked from the Easter party earlier. So what was left included toys, DS games, and books. I loaded up the baskets and hoped for the best. It worked. Thank goodness for the extras I had.
So do I keep up with the Joneses and do the high dollar basket? Not melted. Or retro it with Peeps, and a hollow chocolate bunny that looks possessed. Throw in a book - done.

The Easter Bunny will get it right just in time for the boys to stop believing. That's OK, I enjoy feeling like a rock star on those special mornings. For now........ until I become the parent who LIED for years!!!

Migraines

Migraines suck!!! They come on without warning. You can be sitting there, and a aura may happen first, or the pulsing pain through your head like a jackhammer will begin.

My first migraine was as a child, I remember I would bang my head on the foot board for creating more pain, actually lessened the pain. I know that sounds awful, it was not how it sounds. No blood....not over and over like I was going crazy. later in life I understood what that was. As a child I did not have a clue what a migraine was.

My very first on that came later was when I was about 17-18ish. I was working as a dental assistant and my boss had us to his home for a Tony Robbins motivational class (I know). Well his oldest son, I had a huge crush on was there bad boy.....rich kid bad boy. Drugs, car.....parents were oblivious. The bar to the library had OJ, coffee and fruit. I drank some OJ, and was watching the video when all of a sudden I started to see twinkle like stuff and rainbow flashes. I panicked thinking that the "bad boy" had spiked the OJ with some LSD. That would have been something he would of done, and laughed his ass off. So about 15 minutes of panicking - thinking I have been drugged because I am hallucinating. Suddenly-- BANG!!! Throbbing awful fucking pain in my head. I am going to throw up, I am dying. I know it. I always had headaches but not like this. Stoke, aneurysm something, is horribly wrong I have to say something.
Migraine. My boss gave me 2 Fiorenol. Shazamm out like a light on my boss's bed. For hours.......I was so embarrassed, I drooled all over the pristine sham I passed out on.

I went through a period where I got them once or twice a month and had medication to take. Then they slowly just went away.

Well, thanks to hormones or whatever.... they have come back again. Nothing to blame it on yet. But the bitch migraine can suck it!! My head feels like if I could drill into my head, while popping my eyes out at the same time would feel better than the migraine. Not always do I get a aura. The thing that helps is placing ice packs around my head, and the back of my neck, cool eye mask --dark cold room, SILENCE and  SLEEP. To those who cannot relate, you have never had one. You will know when or if you ever have one. May you never have one. They really are maddening. your eyes hurt from light, sound is like a bad hangover sensitive. Any warmth make you want to hurl. I take 800 Motrin, 1000 Tylenol, 50 Benadryl, 10mg of a decongestant followed by strong coffee for the caffeine. This combo make sound extreme, but works. With the ice and all the rest....

Acupuncture......my next stop.

I am sure you concluded....I was picked.

I take the park and ride to downtown..... per the advice of the trusty bus driver I get off where he suggests for Jury Duty. Hmmm 12 blocks is not close. So I arrive late. Rushed and sweating, schlepping my prepared bag that weighs over 15lbs (yes I weighed myself holding it). Get comfy and think, I will get to read, do some computer work etc...ride the clock in the large assembly room. Um wrong. I am chosen from the 1st group for jury pooling. So we line up...36 of us and walk through our nice underground tunnels system. (not for the claustrophobic) For what seems like block after block. I feel like I am enduring a cardio stress test. Part anxiety being in the tunnel underground, heavy bag, shoes starting to wear blisters.....yada yada - an hour later I am one of the 12 chosen out of the 36. YES!!!! Wait is this a good thing?

Two days of law and order it was not. Nor Judge Judy. It was real raw sad bantering. Boring. Until some drama starts on the witness stand, the defendant's witness is a man who looks like a 70's porn star. Bad Bad mullet perm! Yes I know it was horrid. Well the defense attorney whom we shall call "Mumbles" as he spoke (head down toward the floor). Embarrassingly the poor court reporter kept asking him to repeat what he was saying. The witness mullet perm porno guy is yelling, fighting with his own attorney. Some laughter actually came from the jury box. No I was not part of it. However I did smile, the Judge winked at me. I was the special juror. WTF ever, he was in his own judge way trying to say "I understand your pain". OK done for the day......Of to the bus home. Fuck!!! Its like 12 blocks away, 15+ pound bag and bleeding blisters I walk around downtown wanting to cry and seriously contemplating stopping into a bar to down a few shots. I found the bus, rode home.

This morning, no bag, much better shoes, map of downtown, spare band aids in case the ones already on my feet come off. I was so impressed with my timing I was 30 minutes early!! For those whom know me....understand this is huge! I am never on time...ever. I proceed to go through the wrong metal detector....I have to take off much of my attire, and this in line sucked up 20 of my early minutes. Grab a breakfast taco and Starbucks and blamo - back to the jury room. We go back in, question after question....the defendant is on the stand and I honestly think we all would have stood up and said "objection" or " ANSWER YES or Fucking NO!!!" We actually spoke of that in deliberation.....man it was SO HARD not to raise your hand to yell at that guilty SAMF.

 

Now is is time, FINALLY time to get to talk about the case. Up until this point we were told not to speak of the case to anyone. But now in the jury deliberation chambers (Prison cell) we are locked in, no phone, no cell phones, no computer, no anything but us and the "book of evidence" Exhibit 1-50+......Oh coffee pot, Water cooler and men, and women's bathroom. Nice really that close....Yes. So it begins.........

This was not what I thought would happen. All 12 of up talking at once, some yelling (yea guilty) we all agree the defendant is guilty.....but cannot come to terms with the questions we have been instructed to answer. Fist pounding on the table, pointing, slamming down notes. Feverish writing on the dry erase board. Two deer in the headlight looking jurors.....I buzz for the bailiff. Can you make it cooler in here? No. I am red, red ears, redneck, pissed and have had too much coffee. Plus the Cuban Taco I had at lunch is killing my GI tract. But NO way, not with a gun to my head would I "Take care of that" in the bathroom in the room......I am now SO ready to call it a day. Info overload, we are at a stand off pissing match. Myself and 4 men. Just interrupting each other and yelling at how the other is wrong. I was getting hyped up, and can now understand how people just start a bar brawl. Now that we realize we are arguing to the death on question #3, the answer we are all yelling about is for question #5. We all get our way and agree. Now high fiving is occurring, we came to a verdict, have double buzzed (cool jury term). Man----Talk about rapid cycle bipolar moments.

We call the defendant guilty with the max on all offenses. Unanimous vote. The defence is still not happy, they want us all to swear under oath that our answers are what we say they are. I am pissed at this, yet proceed to embarrass myself in giving my full name Molly M. Ringwald RN. Yes I used Registered Nurse.

Group picture taken by the artist from our group whom owns a gallery near the courts, exchange goodbyes, and off for 16 blocks. I needed a compass. And YES Walter I used my GPS this time walking..........

I told the judge "I could do this every month!!"

We shall see if I feel the same next summons.

Duty oh the joy of Jury Duty.

I have been to jury duty before where I was unprepared, waited the entire day only to be sent home. It totally sucked. So when I received my summons last November a few people told me "don't go, how will they know?" Several people had good points....not certified mail, how do they know if you did or didn't get it. So that's just what I did...ignored it. Whew!!!! in the clear! WRONG remember it's me we are talking about. I get another summons telling me about my failure to appear. Now if I do not show up for this big daddy of jury dates I shall be held in contempt of court. That's great a big fine and mom goes to jail.....so I will be at Jury Duty in the morning. I am prepared, book, computer, snacks, bus card, cash.

I don't want to be picked...but secretly I would looove to be sequestered on a high profile gag order murder case!! My luck, I will sit until my ass is numb, feet asleep, then get on a crowded bus back home. With $6.00 pay that does not cover the bus pass.

So instead of showing up with a Peta t-shirt I was planning) books on Wicca, I decided to wear Kakies a nice blouse, (ha ha I said blouse) pearls, dark brown Clark's Mary Janes. I shall read chick lit nonsense. Perfect Juror!! I will then be pissed if I am not even chosen to be questioned.

I wonder if they have a Starbucks station there.....? Riiiiight.


One of my very best friends if all time, has had so many Jury Summons, and she has been picked, and served on several juries (Bitch!). A murder trial also. We used to say she had all the good luck, and I got all the bad luck. (inside BFF joke)

Tomorrow is really not the best day for me...I have been in the classroom at work for the past 2 days, learning new "Motivational questioning skills". Great training, however I have only about a 45 minute attention span in class. Don't get me wrong, class...school...rocks! I love it. (I LOVE the smell of a new textbook-bliss!!!)  But on my terms, my classes, my pick. This was 18 hours that really could of been compressed into a 2 hour class. I was also elected spokesperson for the class. Yea Me. Why? Me. Did I volunteer? No. Was I pissed, yes. So Tomorrow I will be prepared to be the Jury foreman (might even wear the super rack bra!). My point is, I am "sit in a chair for long periods time" done for the year. The past 2 days has well exceeded its allowance for the year in a consecutive time span.

I might even blog from the courthouse.....if anything it will be a good people watching day. Getting up at 5:30 is bullshit, I can normally roll out of bed at 7:20 make coffee, kids on the bus and be logged into my computer  working before 8:00. Working from home makes me so grateful that I do not have to hustle it in the morning!! I see patients when I decide. (I have no control issues he he he)

People now don't go committing any crimes! This is the only summons I expect for the next several years........

A bra can make or break your day. Really!!

Do you know the bra's out there that increase 2 cup sizes, well I have one. (Not VS) So today I am headed out to the Ghetto yet again today. But I decided today I am going to do a experiment. That bra I bought....I am going to wear it and see if I have a different type of day.

Shazaaam!!!!! (no not me)





My shirt became tighter. My back straighter.....and my confidence soaring --------->

I stop at the gas station to fill up Bruce. $50.00!! For a Mini Cooper. Thanks Pres!

Whistles, and honks. Yea baby my back is even straighter. What is happening? Bra really? YES.

Off to the hood, walking very confident more. This bra thing is really perking my personality. No pun intended. This is rocking!! Complaints: My seat belt keeps bugging me,and it never does, my elbows keep bumping the massive floatation device padding.

More whistles. Damn!

OK home, wait need to run out and get pepper we are out. Up to the corner store. I am getting the-- "How you doing?" looks, doors opening, and yet another honk! Walter even looked at me and was like ......something is different but I don't know what. (I could see it on his face)

Definitely shot my desire for a boob job down the drain. These would get in my way. But what a social experience to wear two cup sizes larger, and to have that much notice that is never there on a ordinary basis.

Wait that is a lie. I have always gotten whistles from men on the back of the yard crew trucks.......

Think about this.....the disappoinment on the flipside when it comes off.....(people dating and 1st time viewings) and they go 2 sizes down, or after breastfeeding..... they turn into "fried eggs" as some scrub techs call them!!

Thank you

I wanted to take a quick sec, and let all of you who are following are wonderful! I am so impressed with things so far. I look at my stats and its unbelievable how and where my viewers are coming from. Blackberry, iPhone, iPad, Windows, Mac......big list separated out.

I would love it if you stop by, either drop a line to me, or click the like button. This is going to be a success!!!

Also, as you can see from the randomness I have started out with......I have plenty in the "Ceder Chest" in my brain to fill pages. Let me know what you want more of, or ask a question. I will answer what I can.

Thank you all again!!!!!

Not my usual note. I need to tell it.

Tomorrow is April 5th. My mother's birthday. This is the 5th year I have been without her.
24 days after her birthday 2006 my mother committed suicide. April is a month I wish would just zip past.

My mother was a alcoholic, pill user, and rapid cycling bipolar with severe anxiety. She refused help. She had attempted suicide many times. My earliest memory was when I had to be about 5. She would overdose on pills and alcohol, slashed her wrists...etc. One time she got her wish and was DOA in ER, she was brought back several times, and lay in a coma on a vent for a week. That my friends should of been the time for her to go. it would have been so much easier.

I am a mother, and as one it troubles me to know that a mother can not want her child. She was not a mother. She never wanted to be.
Tomorrow she would be 57. So young. But the 45 was her answer. She was found by a neighbor. That's the day she was declared dead, however I am sure it had been a day or so.

Oh I loved her so. I should of learned a lesson, as each time I tried to have a relationship I got burnt. How many times can you keep touching a flame until you go - shit this hurts, I am tired of burns. Well in the case of love there can be no time limit. You will burn yourself metaphorically to eternity.

She knew my oldest son, and God did she adore him. He still remembers her. My youngest was a year old when she went to the other side. He does not know her or remember.

Anger is such that these good kids, my kids she left. I am a only child. Don't do it for me, obviously she failed at that, but start over with my kids. Be a fucking person. LOVE something other than her narcissistic self. Pipe dream. I miss her, I cannot explain why. I never would give up on her. She gave up on her, so did all that knew her. Mother fuckers knew she talked of killing herself and watched her pass out, and turned a blind eye. How can you do that? "don't want to get involved" Who gives a shit! Save a life. Wait, that's what I DO.

I can do what I do, because I have been there. I can relate. I understand what families with mental illness go through. I understand loosing your loved one to drugs. I get it. I lived it.

The worst part of suicide is you will never know. There will forever be pieces to a puzzle that do not fit. So many pieces that are missing. Selfish. Most selfish thing you can do.

I have found forgiveness for what she did. I am not yet at peace with it. On the outside you would never know, unless I told you. There is a special bond that mothers and daughters share, you cannot put words to it. I tried to force a bond. It failed.

Every once in a while I will sense her. I can smell her hair, and feel her soft hug. The moments we did share when she was sober are priceless. I love her and miss her. Each passing year I see my boys and wish she had chosen to stay, be proud and enjoy them. That is really the biggest insult. I took the grief for them.

I am released from the pain. She is indeed somewhere better than the hell she lived in her mind. Mental illness is real, addiction is real. When someone mentions they want to die, take it serious. You never know if you will see them again. My mother and I had a argument about her prior attempt, and that was a couple of months before she died. That was my last conversation, her last words to me "you are dead to me." What the Fuck do I do with that? Chest out head high, it takes more than that to break this woman. I find strength in pain. It has made me who I am. (I do not welcome pain) hate it. But I wont back down. My boys know who loves them with every ounce of my existence.
Happy Birthday Mom.

Coffee Whore

One of the top few things in my life, I can say I LOVE includes coffee. Oh what a Divine drink, aroma, comfort, blessing, treat, indulgence, mood lifter..............How do you describe coffee? I am not sure, although I cannot understand the group of people who don't like coffee. They are weird. I do not drink it to be "awake" those who know me can attest that I don't need any additional stimulation to my personality. (ha ha made myself laugh)

I own 3 coffee makes along with a french press. Yes people I LOVE COFFEE. But for the taste. I have a regular drip maker, a pod brewer, and a fancy shmancy maker. All dependant on my mood. The drip maker is really for Walter. He drinks what I call tinted brown water. I drink the real deal, grow hair on your chest and burn a hole in your stomach strong bold coffee. My favorite is Turkish. (that is a true indulgence to me). This morning I am drinking Carte' Noir with Sugar in the raw and half and half. Bliss.

As a nurse one of my favorite things about not only the "hospital smell" is the fresh brewing coffee smell. It in itself is like a drug. Pulling you in and perking your day. The aroma to me is pure joy.

One of my favorite smells is walking into a "Target" store and passing the Starbucks. The smell hits you.....and a transcendence of money wasting begins. (for me anyway)

I love my Starbucks.......But I have a question, also wondering if anyone else is in the same boat, or is it just me.
You walk in, or drive through, requesting a coffee. Oh the excitement as you bring it to your lips to taste.....while burning the shit out of your tongue. Every time.....I am not sure what temp they keep their coffee at, but for me I have to request a handful of ice so I can drink it right away. I watch as others walk up, order their Venti Pike's Place and just chug. Is there mouth and esophagus coated in leather? Or do redheads just have delicate everything......

I have never been a fan of flavored coffee, yet a strong Texas Hill Country blend is magic in my mouth. Seattle's Best also has a Creme Brulee that is not too shabby.

Vanilla, Hazelnut, Irish creme....Gak! No thanks.

Bureaucracy for Breakfast

Bureaucracy for Breakfast
This my friends is one of my inspirations. She is an incredible woman, and very talented writer, blogger.....book launcher! I am showing the world from The Redhead - one of my favorite reads!!
Go DINA!!!!

Blarg!!

So there are things about the "Male" person that I find disturbing, irritating, and curious about.

This started with Walter coming to bed last night. As he struts his stuff over to the bed, he says "so, I've lost 10 pounds so far this week" into the bed he climbs. Hmmm Mon-Thurs is 4 days. Wait a sec....cleanse or fast? Has to be a detox cleanse or something. WRONG he took the stairs at work, switching to diet coke vs regular. THAT'S ALL. I wanted to hurt him badly. Here I have been fasting for 3 weeks to see a frucking 0.5 pounds lost. 

Getting ready for Walter (not picking on him, he is just readily available for comparison) is maybe 10 minutes. That includes shower, teeth, getting dressed and out the door. Wrong......

Men can or do wear the same underwear until the fall out completely at the scrotal area. (do they next vents?)  Socks with hole worn into the mid bottom. (Really how does that happen?) Do we women wear panties until they are hanging in pieces? Sexy. Or hey baby cross those legs for a glimpse at the ball of my foot through my sock. Wink! What is their response? "They still work. Good one guys.

Bathroom habits.....Why do men need to announce that they are headed to poo? Or say get in or do what you need cuz I'm about to blow it up.....The kids too "hey mom!!!!" yea?! "I'm going to take a dump!!" Thanks for sharing. Or as I am giving a neck massage announce I have 5 minutes, because he has something brewing. They do leave the door shut, thank God. Stay in private without interrupting. Me.....I can quietly go into the bathroom shut the door (sometimes just to hide) when a cat sticks its paw under the door, kids bust in to ask a question, Walter walked right in and started fishing through the book rack for a magazine. Amazing.

Lint in the navel......how can one harbor that much in a day?

The need for meat with every meal. 

The rest was filler. I still am pissed that taking stairs at work and drinking diet will drop a size off a man.....a woman will bust her ass to. Just not fair.

I am taking the stairs......Diet Coke can enjoy a big spoonful of "Suck it!"