The cool points are out the window and I'm all twisted up in the game...

I had a lot on my mind this morning and started writing. I was hitting the key board pretty hard for a little while then stopped for a bit. Started back up. Stopped again. I finally took a break from writing to start some laundry, walk the dogs, and grab some food. It was my intention to publicly explain the choices I made with regard to the reasons I married. It actually was something that I very recently realized about myself. It was also a topic of conversation with Huck the other night which started the flooding thoughts. So, in short, I recently realized  each time I married I had an agenda. I had a motive. I married for reasons outside of love. When I reread what was written I thought, "who gives a fuck?" In two keystrokes I deleted what I wrote from the screen. Why the hec am I so focused on the ghosts of relationships past? Does it really matter anymore?

Once upon a time this incredible handsome guy popped in to my life quite unexpectedly. I honestly was beginning to prepare for life as the crazy dog lady in a small house near the ocean, you know, with four Golden Retrievers under foot. I already have two. Two more wouldn't be much more trouble. Anyway, at first I thought this dude was just going to be a great friend. We shared some life experiences in parallel universes and found we even like doing some of the same things like traveling and dining out. Then one night after a well deserved happy hour he kissed me. I admit, after getting to know him a bit more I wanted to be kissed by him pretty badly but holy shit, that kiss...that first kiss...that electrifying, heart stopping, toe curling zap was felt to the core of my existence. And every time since? I feel the same zing and tingle when he kisses me - yes, the butterflies line up in a Conga line.

Visiting those ghosts again helped me realize the adjustments I vowed to make before Huck and I began dating gave us a chance at a very happy future relationship. I can now appreciate the importance of how my past has no power over me any longer. I was living the definition of insanity with my past relationships - you know, doing the same things over and over yet expecting different results? After striking out three times and being kicked off the field I realized I was the one who needed to change if I wanted to be happy. So I set out to adjust my attitude and rewrite my list of expectations. I knew I needed to do things much differently than I had done in the past. The very first rewrite on my list?

DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING.

Yes. This is a very important key point of my self revelation. I used to have all these preconceived notions of what  a relationship was supposed to be (based on the Lady's training) and how a relationship was supposed to play out (again, based on the Lady's training). I still have some conventional expectations like mutual respect, kindness, and not taking each other for granted. Those are a given. I'm talking about all the other typical chick expectations. The things that would make a man like Huck cringe and run like Forrest. You know, anything that involves neutering. This is one thing I now reject from the Lady's teaching. No, no, no...men are to be men. Lions. King of the jungle and everywhere the light touches.

I think giving up those typical chick expectations is what opened my heart and allowed my spirit to be available for experiencing true love. Letting go of relationship wrecking expectations has allowed me to finally understand what love is and what love means. Love is about how we can make each other better. It isn't about how we can benefit from the things we each bring to the table. All I want is to love Huck and have his love in return. Its that simple.

'Tis the Season

For the first time in my working life I am able to take a large block of time off for vacation. In the next two weeks I will be waking up when I feel like it and going to bed when I can't fight off the sandman any longer. So far it's been going pretty well. Unfortunately, I forgot to shut off my alarm so I was up at 7:45am today. No matter. I spent a very leisure morning watching Hallmark movies and drinking coffee in my now favorite "Litt Up" mug. Around ten I got a wild hair up my butt and decided to finish my errands that could wait until next weekend. Really, just a trip to Target and the dollar store for non-essential essentials if that makes sense.

This time of year it seems the general public as a whole is incredibly rude and terribly impatient. Not much more than normal down here in South Florida though. We have such a high concentration of assholes year round but the jackassness of everyone just becomes exponential around Christmas time. An overly commercialized holiday creates a desperation in people to spend money on gifts that most recipients don't need or want. This feeling of obligation in turn leads to stressed out and frazzled folk that really just need to step back and reevaluate why they are being rude and inconsiderate for no good reason. You probably shouldn't have procrastinated bub so unwad your panties please. I have no pity for your poor planning so don't take it out on me. I find people in general don't put any thought into gift selection and the spirit of giving. There is no creativity. There is no feeling behind the purpose of the gift. No meaning in some cases. I love searching for the perfect gift. Shopping for someone is delightful and brings me joy. Occasionally I'm lucky and find the right item right away and sometimes it's weeks of searching  and wracking my brain for ideas until I find what I feel is an appropriate and heartfelt gift.

Sometimes my gift is handmade or customized in some crafty way. Hand made gifts come in many forms. Sometimes it's an actual craft. Sometimes it's a crafty customization. Not all of my projects turn out well. This year I attempted to decorate an unfinished picture frame for it to only look like something a four year old created. Huck was a gem and said it looked good but there is no way in hell I am giving that as a gift to anyone! I kept it for myself as a reminder that I am not the craftiest bitch in the world sometimes. I probably needed to wait to sober up some from the Bloody Mary drink-a-thon I participated in before I started the project. Doesn't alcohol reduce our ability to make good decisions?  

All that aside, I have to tell you, my Huck is THE BEST gift giver in the history of ever. Yes, I'm gloating again about how incredible my man is and how wonderfully he treats me so suck it. I really don't know how he manages to do it but each and every gift I've received from him is not only thoughtful but unique. His gifts solidify a shared sentiment or signify a moment in our new life together that is frankly making me a little misty eyed now because I miss him. We were just starting to pick up momentum around this time last year so our gift giving was simple. Now we know each other which means the pressure is on so to speak. So yeah, I'm a little nervous. I have no doubt he's done well with his choices for me since he always has (his packages for me take up half the space under the tree-man lost his mind). Is it possible to be excited and a little freaked out at the same time? I'm counting the days till our Christmas and it 's not about the gifts. It's about creating more happy memories with the only man I choose to love...truly, madly, deeply...for the rest of my life.

Time for some ice cream!

Then I ran out, didn't grab no shoes or nothing...

I hurt today. A lot.

After waiting a few weeks I finally made it to a Rheumatologist. I have to tell you, I love using Google Maps for GPS while I am driving. I generally know where I am going but sometimes - ok, most times - I'm a bit off with time/distance. So I use the GPS to help me determine how much further I need to go. You see, it seems the places I want to get to are much further than I have displayed in my brain. This time/distance block drives a certain passenger a bit nutso especially when we have places to be. Yes, everywhere I want to go is right down the road and about 15 minutes drive away. Not really.

Anywho, the doctor and I talked about how I was feeling and how long I've felt pain. We discussed rheumatoid and its progressive effects. A detailed conversation about family medical history was covered. Then the physical exam was done. Now, this little bit of a woman pressed areas on my body that made me cry out in distress. I sounded like a feeble, weak female each time she pressed on me. For crying out loud. I live everyday in some form of pain and I manage it in a way that it doesn't phase me for the most part. I have a high threshold I guess. If I am feeling a 5 or 6 on the scale it's likely an average person's 9 or 10.  If I can be in pain all the time how is it this little woman can bring me to near tears simply by putting slight pressure on various points? I suddenly felt betrayed by my body.

After the physical exam the doctor asked me if I ever heard of fibromyalgia. Well, yeah I have actually. She proceeded to explain why she felt my pain was caused by fibromyalgia versus rheumatoid arthritis. The pain I felt was in soft tissue indicating a nerve problem rather than pain in the joint itself. The most strange sensation of pain comes from a numbness that causes tingling. The tingling feels like my skin is crawling literally. It's almost a vibration. This sensation also makes me feel like I itch. From what I understand fibromyalgia is a common diagnosis for people that have unexplained pain. Ok, so blood tests were ordered to rule out the possibility of rheumatoid and other diseases that look like rheumatoid.

And while I wait for answers, I hurt. Today is a bad day. Today the weather turned cold. The cold is fucking with me in a mean way. I am stiff, achy, and sore. I love winters here in Florida. The skies are clear and blue. The air is crisp and fresh. But today I want to curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep. Whatever it is that is making me hurt, it sucks. There is nothing I can do short of manage the pain. I honestly couldn't tell you how long I've hurt this way but recent events have brought it to the forefront. I refuse to let it rule my life whatever it is. I will continue to do all I do and then some. Now, I'mma get me a cold pop.

Wait. What? You've got to be kidding.

Slowly over the past month or so I've been becoming more and more fatigued. Ok, maybe a bit longer but who's keeping track? I don't have time for that shit. As is normal for me I just push past it and keep going. With the fatigue came some aches and pains. I never put too much though in to it so just put it out of my head. I'm too busy to worry about me. I've got too much going on to let a little ache and tiredness hold me down. Nah. Suck it up buttercup! You can rest tomorrow! Of course we know what happens. Tomorrow arrives and I've not paid attention to my aches and pains. I just pop some Aleeve and drink more coffee. 

Coincidentally, I had found a tick on one of the goobers a few weeks ago. It may have been longer I don't know. I don't have time to keep track of that shit. I found it and flushed it. It wasn't attached so I passed it off as a nuisance. So now a few days ago a very small insignificant rash popped up on my back. It never itched. It never bothered me. I found it while bathing. I was immediately skeeved out because it felt like ringworm and omg I'm such a clean freak where the eff did I pick this up? I had some cream left over from a rash I developed a few years ago on my arm that also was unexplained. I dab some on the new rash and kept moving.

I woke the other morning with a horrible, horrible headache. I had a hard time finding a comfortable spot but when I did I was able to sleep long enough for the headache to go away. I thought with the aches and pains and normal icky feelings I might have caught some kind of sickness that would run it's course. Another day passes and I'm feeling so bad. I'm just not happy and I hurt and I wanted to just curl up in the fetal position and hibernate like a tired old grizzly bear in a cave. I was given a directive to make a hot toddy and go to bed-which is what I did. I woke this morning and felt no better. Why do I hurt so much? My joints are aching. My knees. My hips. My elbows. My neck is stiff. I feel a little upper respiratory niggle that has me on the verge of coughing but not quite there yet. My head is congested and it hurts too. That though may be just allergies or I'm having a psychosomatic response. Nothing a Claritin D can't fix. And it did. I decided to forgo the Aleeve today to see if I could manage. Eh. I got through half the day and I was miserable. Which leads to the next directive - see a doctor or go to Urgent Care. I opted for Urgent Care. It takes forever to get in to see my beloved primary doctor. 

I finish up my work day and head straight to the Urgent Care center. I feel like a dumbass because I'm not really sick but I feel like crap and I'm too impatient to wait three weeks for an opening with my primary. All the correlating facts of aches, joint pain, headache, stiff neck, and fatigue partnered with seeing a tick and having a freaky pea sized rash on my back had me thinking I picked up some kind of tick born virus or something. I dunno! I'm not a doctor! So here I am telling the nurse what's going on. She's asking me some general questions then tells me the doctor will be in shortly. I feel so dumb. Moments later in comes the doctor. Oh, by the way my blood pressure is always, ALWAYS, a normal 120/80. These machines they use now are WRONG! How the hec did I have a reading of 157/90? Then a second of 142/82? The machine blood pressure thingy is junk. And totally wrong. Wrong. 

This doctor has a very thick Spanish accent which honestly I understood perfectly. I did find myself speaking in a sort of spanglish with him which he chuckled at and encouraged me to continue. We discussed all my symptoms and correlating facts of timing and observation for a few minutes. He examines me. And tells me there is a very slim to none chance I picked up something from a tick bite and the rash could be ringworm but it doesn't itch which is the primary symptom. So ringworm and tick disease is ruled out. Now this guy is asking about family history of arthritis or rheumatism. What? Holy crap! No. There is no history that I know of. Why? So he begins to exam my joints. Mainly my knees and elbows since that is where I felt most pain today. Yesterday it was my elbows and my hands. The day before it was my knees and hips. Yeah, I'm a mess. Anywho...dude presses a spot on my elbow and I squealed. I had to resist throat punching him. then he did the same on my knee. I squealed again. I had to resist kicking his baby maker. I'm like, what the hell is going on here with the manhandling? 

Are you ready for this? He suspects I have rheumatoid arthritis and recommends I see a specialist for further testing and gave me a script for Celebrex. Oh dear. The fatigue and aching are a part of rheumatism and the congestion with upper respiratory whatever is probably what is going around and will pass in a few days if left to run its course. Great.  

I now am conscious of each ache, pain, stiffness of my joints, and the chronic feeling of being tired. I feel like I aged 10 years in one hour at the Urgent Care. I'm old and now I feel it. 

 

I don't wanna!

This happens every term. I get mid way successfully then I decide, "I don't wanna anymore!" I bust my ass to make the A's then roll in to midterm thinking, screw it. So, instead of doing school work tonight, I'm here. I'm even putting off my Thursday night shows and mindlessly watching some Hallmark movie about a detective dude as an undercover nanny. Sounds like a Rock or Jackie Chan movie. The best thing is this is my last term! I am so done with school!

I had my eyes checked last weekend. I decided to give contacts a whirl again. I was wearing dailies on the weekends and it was easy. I wore them then threw them out at the end of the day. Even then it bothered my eyes though. Got tired and dry. I was only good for about 8 hours and that was stretching it. I hadn't tried toric lenses in ten years or so-you know, to correct my astigmatism. Last time I tried this type of lens I was sick to my stomach. The technology of the anchor that keeps the lens from rotating was poorly designed and would rock side to side when I blinked making me nauseous. The newest kind doesn't do that. I actually see better with my new contacts than I do with my beloved glasses. I lived most of my life with glasses on my face. It became a trademark, sort of an extension of my personality. Like my boobs.

A fabulous weekend is planned. No, not going to a tropical locale to drink frozen adult beverages or taking a drive to the blue ridge or anything like that. That sounds like a great weekend too but honestly, every weekend spent with my Huck is fabulous. I don't care where we are as long as he's holding my hand. On a serious note, I'm still amazed by how much newness remains. There isn't a day that goes by I don't fall deeper in love with this incredible man.

Love your mom!

Mom. I love my mom tremendously. She's an incredible woman, truly. The "Lady" as I affectionately call her, made a life for herself and her family from basically nothing but the knowledge of her upbringing. She had Dad for support of course, but she raised us on her own. She was born and raised in a third world country, living in a one room house with dirt floors. She finished high school but received no formal education after. Her days since her 19th year was spent raising a family and taking care of a man. I received my formal wife-mother training from the Lady.  She is an accomplished wife-mother and I followed very closely in her foot steps to that regard. Granted three times a wife but that's not the point.

The Lady is a very, very giving woman. She has provided for me and my brother and her collective brood of grandchildren over and over again. She worries about all of us all the time. Her vigil is tireless. Her efforts do not go unnoticed and her giving and loving nature are appreciated times infinity. For real!

But there is this one character trait I've noticed most of my life...the Lady has a dark streak. And this darkness- I really don't know what else to call it-is not a good thing to be the object of. In my earlier years she would nag and I would fight back, venomously. Now, I listen and let her say what she needs to say. Sometimes more than once. Ok, at least three times three different ways maybe more. Then I say, "Yup. You have a great point there, Lady." And then I politely end the call. Or walk away. Actually, my Huck taught me the art of just letting her have her say and letting it go. I do fear though that one day I will sound just like her. My son told me once I sounded just like his "Bà ngoại" (the Vietnamese word for "Nana.") I shivered and said "Oh God NO!" Boy did I reign it in in a hurry!

The Lady can pepper anyone with a barrage of demeaning darkness that would leave even a four star general in tears. Her tactic is extreme. It's downright mean. She begins the conversation with pleasantries then BAM! You're hit over the head with her worries for you and how you should handle your problems and all the things you are doing wrong and why you haven't been able to get better things in life and why your dreams and hopes are worthless thoughts and the choices you make in life are mistakes and on and on and on...There isn't a conversation with the Lady that doesn't end with the feeling of being a worthless lump.

This is why I have a three day limit when visiting her. I leave in worse psychological shape then when I arrived. There is no relaxing, no letting my hair down, no rest. I'm on guard the entire time waiting for the judgement. My hair is too long, too dark. I'm too fat. I'm not a good mother. I'm not getting enough exercise. Ok, she's right on that one. I spend too much money on unnecessary things. I should have no pets because I can't take care of myself. I live in a bad neighborhood, I need to move. There is very little, if any, complimentary conversation or supportive dialogue. I'm flooding now because I just had one of these very unhappy conversations with her tonight that has been only the source of her on going disappointment of my life. Well, actually this conversation has been the same topic for months and we've spoken every day and it's always the same thing....I've made too many bad choices in my life recently and is why life has dealt me the cards in my hand. Of course, this is her opinion not mine. I think my choices lately have been brilliant and the best for me. I'm carrying at least a straight flush now. Two years ago it was just a pair...




The best lines from Big Bang Theory this week...the girls went to Vegas for the weekend:

Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler: They have a group of Australian male strippers!
Bernadette: We want to go see if they can twirl their junk in the opposite direction!

Mercury in retrograde and the full moon...

I'm here again. It's late so I won't say too much but am feeling compelled to lay out some thoughts again. I am not an astrology nut nor do I feel my entire life is ruled by the planets but occasionally the monthly readings seem so spot on to me and my life circumstances. Mercury, my ruling planet, has gone to retrograde and tonight's lunar eclipse was supposed to bring some news that will initially freak me out then later be recognized as a blessing. When your ruling planet goes retrograde it seems that all you've done starts to unravel. Anything you do during a retrograde doesn't stick. It's as if the Universe decides...hmmm...I think I'll fuck with her fate line for a few weeks and make her think she's a nut job. Well, we are all a little nutty. Some of us just hide it better than others.

I realize that astrology charts are general and geared to a large audience. I also realize that sometimes the charts are off and even specific days marked as "watch for it" doesn't mean the prediction isn't going to happen on that marked day. The predictions are not engraved in stone and so specific that you will be fully aware of when an event is to take place. The generalized prediction of events can take place at any time. And it's for entertainment purposes only.

Oh shit, I am rambling on like a crazy person.

I have been experiencing a great deal of anxiety the past few days. I thought my son was squared away and settled for a few months until he springs some rather unexpected news on me last week. He has a girlfriend. That wasn't the news that made me have an anxiety attack and it's not that I never expected it but I didn't expect it to happen under these circumstances. He's not yet found his place and it concerns me. How can he make a relationship work if he has no idea where he's headed? He's doing exceptionally well though granted he's not found his place. He's handling the pressures of (sorta) being on his own. Making his own choices. He's understanding there are consequences of his decisions and actions. He's growing up. Now he just needs to get an effing job!

Chicks are chicks. We think and do things that men feel are considered "typical" of chicks. We are emotional creatures and spend a great deal of time analyzing information, responses, actions...our brains are akin to 3, 478 Google tabs open at the same time. Our brains are wired to make connections to every thing and anything all at once and all over the place. For instance, I know my Huck loves me. With out a doubt he loves me. He even tells me in the most endearing and wonderful ways. It's not always a direct statement of "I love you." Sometimes its shown with a made bed or dishes loaded in the dish washer. Sometimes the message is embedded in the lyrics of a song. Sometimes its a reminder of shared moments brought to the front of my mind like an advertisement torn from a magazine. His message is always heard no matter how it's told. But, from time to time due to being a damn typical chick, I hear the message but read too much into it and spin it to be something else entirely. I have these moments and am not ashamed to admit when I am having one of these dimwitted typical chick moments. Just know, I hear the true message loud and clear and it makes me swell with warmth and love. My goodness, I love my Huck!

Chocolate, wine, and knights in shining armor...

There are those days when all I want is to get in to my grubby house dress, wrap myself up in my favorite squishy blanket, and gorge on endless hours of recorded TV shows. Yeah, I am feeling it tonight. Sorta. I am also in the mood to put thought to paper so to speak and is why I am here. These type of days I also like to indulge in an unhealthy amount of chocolate. Which I did. We'll call it dinner. Of course, now I feel sick. 

It wasn't a bad day. Not at all. The one thing that sticks out mostly is a conversation with a friend. The details are not for me to divulge but really brought on psychological flooding from my not so distant past. Needless to say I am fully understanding of the heartbreak my friend is experiencing now. It's going to be a long journey but eventually my friend will need to make a choice that is either incredibly painful or just one of acceptance. And there will be no judgement from me either way. 

This flooding also made me realize, again, how incredibly lucky I am now. Aside from all the difficulties I've had with my son, going through divorce, and adjusting to being physically alone for the first time, I am truly lucky. The challenges I've faced recently are not as seemingly terrible and have actually fixed themselves over time. Somewhat. I still face these challenges but they don't seem as consuming as before. Time heals. 

And having a champion makes it all easier to face.

My champion is handsome. He's dashing. His smile gives me butterflies. With all the troubles I have  in this world, great and small, they all seem diminished with the wink of his eye. His playful nature makes me giggle and there is nothing more comforting than his warm and gentle kiss. He is good to me. Very good to me. And he is good for me. There has never been a man in my life like him and I know for certain I have never loved a man the way I love him. Yes, I'm a damsel in distress most days and he's my knight in shining armor...or Hercules. 

The therapy is...

Some days I want to hide under the covers. Other days I'm in combat stance ready to strike. The days in between are a joining of both extremes because I have discovered ways to self soothe. Today was a day I needed to reach into my bag of tricks. My day started out relatively smooth and only required two hits on the snooze rather than three. I was having a good hair day. I actually managed to spend some time on my appearance. I chose an outfit that was complimented. I wasn't late for work. I was feeling magnificent, well, because I am. It was a cheerful day until...

I know I have a foul mouth. I've never attempted to lead anyone I work with to believe I am a quiet little church mouse. That thing most people have in their brain that tells them not to say something offensive? I think its called a censor. Yeah, I don't have one of those. I've worked with this group for three years and no one has told me I am too vulgar. Honestly, I'm quite mild compared to some people I hang with but let me tell you how mortified I am to be told to watch my mouth...by my manager. When I was told someone complained via email that I used a bad word and offended someone's ear I was stupefied. I was so mortified it led me to apologize to everyone around me. I honestly didn't, and still don't, recall any conversation I had with anyone that resulted in me using profanity. And c'mon...who hasn't peppered their conversation with colorful metaphors? On a serious note though, I thought I was a 43 year old woman. Why on earth is a grown ass adult complaining to a manager instead of telling me to watch my mouth? The office I work in is Kindergarten on steroids. Ummmmm, I'mmmmm telllllinggggg! WTF?

You there, you big titty baby (I love that one) that can't speak up for yourself like an adult, bite me!

Now what was in my bag of tricks? My bag of tricks contained a bottle of wine, ricotta cheese, sauce, veggies, Italian sausage, and lasagna. Today my method of self soothing was an orchestra of single ingredients that once put together made the most delicious lasagna I ever made. Buttloads of the most delicious lasagna I ever made. Oh my effing goodness I had so much stuff to assemble this lasagna that I made one large dish (which I baked tonight) and two smaller dishes to freeze. Cooking is valuable therapy. It helps me calm down and move past whatever transgressions I experience. After what happened today I needed to cook.

I know it doesn't seem like getting in trouble at work for using a bad word is a big deal to some of you. Y'all need to realize that I'm not the type to purposely offend anyone for any reason. I always try to consider the folks I work with and spend time with. I know I can't make everyone happy - obviously there is one person out there that is gunning for me for some unknown reason, but I am considerate to say the least. To everyone. Even the assholes I know who detest me for my sunny disposition and kindness. I like to think that keeping my side of the fence clean means something to even the jerks that dislike me. Mainly that I have integrity. I need to suck it up and move past this now. Maybe I needed to up the therapy and throw in some baking.

One thing I learned today, haters gonna hate no matter how good a person I am.

The final count down...and extreme comfort.

One last term to go and I am done with school for a while. Thank goodness it's just a certificate program. I don't have it in me to do much more than that now especially with the holidays approaching. I have plans to pick up my studies again in the future to earn a doctoral degree but I am not sure which discipline to choose. So, I'll take some time off. Do some research. Put some feelers out. Or not. I like to gamble about some things and I'm usually pretty lucky. Where the hec did that come from? I have no idea why I started with this topic. Nothing like a little random firing of the brain synapses.

There was a "As Seen on TV" product that was all the rage about 5 years ago. Ladies, you may have heard of this stylish product. Yes! I'm talking about pajama jeans! When I heard about these jeans I wanted to get my hands on a pair. I found out they were sold at Walgreens and proceeded to search each store in a 10 mile radius. Finally found a pair after I opened up the search grid to 20 miles. I know, its a bit obsessive. I was ecstatic to find a pair in badonkadonk size and made my purchase. Couldn't wait to try on my new comfy jeans I could live in and sleep in. I got home and said hasty hello's and ran up stairs to put these jeans on. And they were gloriously comfy! No binding or pinching. No digging or bunching. And they were just long enough in the stride there was no worry of camel toe and not so long I had to pull the waist band up to my boobs. The pant legs were a perfect length too. So after a couple wears I had to wash them. Would you believe these fantastic comfy pajama jeans shrank? The piece of crap pants kept their shape in all areas but leg length. They became high waters of the Urkel kind. Which sucked. I tossed them.

I was doing a mild bit of retail therapy last night and went to my usual "mall." I toured Home Goods, Marshall's, Old Navy, Bath and Body Works, then TJ Maxx. I was pretty defeated by the time I got to TJ's. I found nothing I couldn't live without. I did pick up some items at Bath and Body but it was stuff that I normally buy so no feel good rush of something new. Well, I walked through the purse section of TJ's first. Found a great bag but I wasn't spending $199 on  a dang bag. Shoe selection was disappointing. I didn't see anything in the home section I wanted. I decided to peek at the clothing department before heading out. Nope. No blouses. No sweaters. No t-shirts. No jeans...wait. What is this? Holy crap! Designer pajama jeans! Yeah, I bought 'em. I'm not wearing them now of course. They are definitely more jean than pajama but bet they are effing comfortable. Darn things better not shrink!

There's alone and there's alone...

Sometimes its a feeling and sometimes its physical. In my current physical state I live alone. Well, without another person. I live with two big lovable puppy dogs. But no, no other humans. Until three months ago I always lived with someone. Parent, son, brother, husband/s...yeah there's been more than one of those. I'm adjusting to being alone. I don't always like it of course but I'm adjusting.  In the beginning I was freaked out by every noise. I thought maybe someone was trying to get in. Then I realized the dogs would alert me to an unannounced visitor. No, not by barking. They'd likely get all frisky and excited we had company and , oh, look! It's a new person! Some nights I'd have trouble falling asleep because the noises were eerie. I began to wonder if I had ghosts. I again realized the girls would alert me to that too. In my opinion, I think dogs sense other worldly beings.  The girls would greet the entity with the same friendly enthusiasm as an "in the flesh" human being.

Then there are days when I like to wallow in being alone. It's not every day or most days but one day, a half a day, or even a few hours of a day...once in a while I like to be alone. This gives me the opportunity to be a slob and act like a caveman and not ponder on the fact someone may witness this unfeminine activity. I got that alone time when I lived with a person. I get a lot more of that now that I am alone. Still doesn't mean I have to like it or accept it.

There is also the feeling of alone. Feeling alone is something wholly different. Feeling alone is what I struggle with. That feeling of alone brings loneliness. Sure the dogs provide joy and some company but it's not the same as human interaction and presence. At first I was very extremely lonely not having another human being in my home. I'd pace and wander around looking for that missing something. I had no idea what I was looking for, I was just searching. I experience those moments less and less...but I still get lonely. And I still wander around my empty house on occasion looking in to empty rooms and empty spaces. It's akin to the empty fridge syndrome. You know, you open the door to see what's to eat and don't see anything you like. You close the door and walk away. A few minutes later what do you do? You go back to the fridge and look inside. Nope. Nothing new has materialized. Yeah, that's me in my empty space.

 Occasionally I am blessed (graced ha ha ) with company. I enjoy each nanosecond of that time and when it ends I'm desperate for more. This is when I feel alone the most and it really sucks. Yup, sucks balls. This is really the only time I feel lonely lately. I get this sampling of company and it's marvelous. When it's time to get back to our respective lives the loneliness kicks in and is felt in stages. I spend the first day or two trying to ignore feeling alone with no success. After unsuccessfully ignoring it I realize I can't fight it anymore and just let it come over me. Another day or two go by and I realize, woohoo! It's almost time for a visit and I get all girly giddy. Of course while I work through these stages I miss him the whole time...miss him crazy, mad.

Are people really that rude? I need a rant...

I have people in my life that are cherished, valued, and loved. I would do anything for these people. Cook favorite meals, bake favorite desserts, cover their asses, provide shelter, give comfort, bail them out, love with all my heart....I care about each of my loved ones equally yet differently. I care about what they do, think, and feel. Wondering about why they do the things they do is all part of trying to understand what makes them tick. It's an opportunity to learn about what makes them happy so I can bring a little joy to their life.

Now, I'm not much to complain about or even judge the actions and attitudes of others not in my immediate circle. Acquaintances, colleagues, and coworkers come and go. Why they do the things they do don't matter to me. Why should it? Negative and bad attitudes. Poor hygiene. Nasty countenance. I'm happy whether that person exists or not and their actions, moods, and demeanor have no impact on my life. So I ignore it. Mostly. There are people out there that insist on being so rude they must drag everyone along in their misery. The one type of person in this world I detest is the coworker that insists on coming to the office with a cold. I know, detest is such a harsh word. Let me rephrase that to dislike. Extreme dislike. Anyway, it's one thing to come in, do what you need to do, and leave quickly. Or even hide in an office. It's something rude all together to come to work obviously contagious and suck snot, sneeze, and cough all over the general population of healthy coworkers. What's even ruder? This person has the capability to work from home. Why the eff did this person bring that shit to the office? Why? Really?!

So here I am all of a sudden feeling run down. My ears are clogged, my eyes are bleary, and my sinuses are a wreck. Jeez, I think my glands are swollen too. Ok, ok. It may just be psychosomatic. But every time one of these rude coworkers decide it's a good idea to bring their diseased body to work I stress. I stress over how long it will take for me to start feeling the sickness because I am most certainly sure I got the bug. I rarely, if ever, get sick. I haven't been sick-sick in years. Why am I telling y'all this? I'm telling you this because when I get sick I'm down for days. I am sicker than a dog when I get sick. When I catch a cold it is not merely a cold. It's the precursor to acute bronchitis which morphs into a chronic condition. One time I was sick for three months straight. If it happens now, I know who to blame. 

Sweet serendipity has a premium cost...

Annie is my problem child. She doesn't chew through walls or eat furniture or anything like that. She's very mellow and sweet. She is a problem child in the sense that she requires regular urgent trips to the veterinarian. Annie has been a patient of one the kindest, gentlest veterinarians since I picked her up from the rescue three years ago. He's great with her and gets her because he has a fur-baby just like her.

You see, Annie is allergic to everything. EVERYTHING. Grass, weeds, pollen, dirt, beef, carrots, tomato, yeast, and a million other things. Poor girl is chronic. She stinks like a yeast ball and I love her regardless. So I was getting ready to do a ritual ear cleaning last night and something didn't feel right. There was a bubble in her ear flap. It was weird. I suspected it was a hematoma since she had one before I got her but didn't want to take the chance it was an allergic reaction to God knows what and it was still there this morning. I was going to take her to her beloved doctor but every time I take her in it costs me no less than $300 and something like this happens every two or three months. Hey, I'm trying to save my pennies for Christmas by this time of year and didn't want to spend money on a trip to the vet for something I was 90% sure about. So, I got a referral from a dear friend for the veterinarian he uses this side of I95, made a call, and headed over. Boy was that the best call ever. The veterinarian was delightful, the office was beautiful, the staff was so darn friendly....I love the place! And the best part? I got out of there under $60!!! Score!

I felt like I just discovered a new wonder of the world. I was giddy. Annie and I skip-walked back to the car parked on the other side of the block (I love living in the city) and piled in for the short ride home. I traveled a portion of Federal Highway I don't normally travel and was not paying attention to my speed. All of a sudden there is a dude standing in the middle of the street and as I slowed down and got closer see its one of Ft. Lauderdale's finest. Dammit. But what the hec was he doing standing in the middle of the road? Oooohhhhhh...motorcycle cop. He was waving me down to pull over. So I did a quick check of traffic to see if I was going to hit someone and changed lanes but passed the mark and street he wanted me to pull on to. Oops. That pissed him off. I turned on my hazard lights and pulled on to the next street. And waited. After a very healthy ass chewing - that I managed to sit through with out arguing, poker face and all-I was handed a ticket. In the end, the money I saved at the vet I threw away on Federal Highway. Fail!

Go figure.

The wall has been breached....

I am a Gemini woman.

The astrologists all say there are two women in me. Characteristically versatile in attitude and conversation a Gemini woman can be proper and well spoken one moment then wildly unpredictable and sarcastic the next. I am not sure about that because the characteristics I exhibit are likened to other signs on the zodiac. We all have moods. There isn't anything unique to changing my mind in the blink of an eye. Others do that too. This is not a trait reserved for the Gemini. I'm a bit disturbed by the proper and well spoken thing but I'll go with it.

The experts say I'm chatty. Here's the thing. I like to talk, sure, but I only want to talk when I have something to talk about. Otherwise I'm an observer. I like to watch and listen to others engage in conversation and don't feel the least bit left out. I absorb the information I hear and engage myself by asking questions to gather data. I don't usually form an opinion right away. Nor do I debate. I actively listen until I'm bored then my mind moves on to other topics. That's kinda rude I know but its what I do. For the people who like to hash and rehash the same thing over and over...it bores me. I need stimulation!

This may come as a shock to some of you, I'm also quite shy. I do not like to be put in the spot light. I don't care to be called out, or on. If you want me to engage in your conversation that I am happily observing you will need to invite me in directly and pointedly. I'm also more comfortable in small groups. I'm great on a double date, a small family gathering, or out with my best girls. Add too many people and I'm overwhelmed. I clam up and try to blend in with the surroundings to avoid direct contact.

The most accurate characteristic that is me to a tee is the Gemini woman in love. A Gemini woman will keep searching for the perfect man, a man perfect for her even if she is otherwise occupied with another. We test the waters too often and rarely dive in. We do fall in love frequently but rarely is it true, real lasting love. We are incredibly romantic and have very romantic old fashioned ideals of love. I require a great deal of affection and I have a desperate need to give it.

The right man will stimulate me with witty conversation and a romantic heart. He will spoil me with attention, affection, and love. He will match my effort. He will sweep me off my feet with his wit and humor. He will be able to awaken the the deepest most hidden love in my heart and will prove worthy to receive it. He will be the one man that can move past the walls I use to guard my heart. I thought I found this dude a few times over. There was always a catch. I always suspected, expected, and experienced the temporary nature of my heart...that is until now.

Y'all? I found him. I found my perfect match. Or he found me. I'm not sure. He claims he was minding his own business and I used Jedi mind tricks on him. I was not expecting anything other than fun and occasional company from this fella. The next thing I know its somewhere around 9 or 10 months later and I'm consumed. And it's not the type of all consuming that makes me want to be in his presence every waking moment like a level five stalker. Its not the Rose and Charlie thing. That type of consumed never lasts. No trips to Paris anytime soon though. In truth, I find I need room to grow in love and I get plenty of room. Its like he knew this and understood. I didn't have to explain it, he just got it. I fall in love with this man more and more as each day passes. Damn man. I want nothing more than to be with this man the rest of my life. Where the hec did that come from? Oh, and Sugar? We haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg yet.

Please stop checking your pulse. LOL! But you know, you ain't goin' nowhere.

Do not go in there! Whoo!

A good friend of mine posted a question on Facebook the other day that made my nose crinkle.

"What is the harm with going to the bathroom and taking a dump while your mate is in the shower?"

Crass? Yes. Gross? Hell yes. It's one thing to be on the other side of the door when your other half is doing "business" but to be in the bathroom while shit is going down? Pun intended. I don't wish to delve into the realm of my bathroom habits. This is not something I like to give details about but I do have to explain something I learned about my self over the years. It all goes back to the lady's method of potty training. To go off topic a second, Freud believes we are all ruined by our mothers by the age of four. That being said I was potty trained at a very early and sorta unnatural age. I was nine months old when the lady found out another baby was on the way. At one year of age the lady decided it was a good time to potty train me. There was no such thing as disposable diapers when I was a baby and she was not going to change the messy diapers on two babies at the same time.

How do you suppose she trained me to go in a toilet? The lady placed my potty chair in the middle of the house. This position allowed her to see me on the potty from any room at any time. Over the course of a few weeks I was made to run the house naked from the waist down except for socks. No diapers, undies, pants - nothing but bare ass. But I had to wear socks on my feet. What the hec was that about? Hmmm...this may be why I can't stand my feet confined in shoes or socks. Anywho, I digress. I would be allowed to run free through the house sans pants for a short while only to be forced to sit on the potty until I "went." I could not get up until I did something in that darned potty. When I finally did something I was once again allowed to run the house butt ass naked for a short time before I was made to return to my seat.

As I grew older my bathroom habits became more modest. I think after a poop mishap at the age of six involving my brother's desperation for a toilet, which had to be the one I was using (with three other bathrooms in the house), made me realize I didn't like company while I was using the toilet. Nope. I do not. So to this day I don't care if anyone wants to be in the bathroom with me while I brush my teeth, fix my hair, paint my face, shower, or the other dozen things I do in the bathroom. The only time I DO NOT want anyone in the bathroom with me is while I have a bare bottom on the porcelain. Respect the message of the door. A cracked door means you can come in. The message of a shut bathroom door means I'm occupied. Don't even talk to me through the door. Unless you are bleeding or the house is on fire, do not disturb. I think the lady's insistence I do my business in the middle of the house with all eyes on me has ruined me. To this day I am not able to potty unless I have a potty behind a closed door. I cannot camp because I cannot squat to pee, let alone number two. OMG all that openness! And all eyes on my performance! I can't even bring myself to tinkle in the ocean. It's that bad. The lady has done a fine job screwing me up about my bathroom habits. The lady ruined me by the age of one. Go mom!

To answer my friend's question...the harm is removing all privacy from a relationship. When you are entangled in your other half's life so much you can't even poop without their company - or you have to be in the same space when they are pooping - something is wrong. Convenience or not, there is surely a guest bath available and please respect the message of the door. We should all be allowed some privacy. So you know, I will not hesitate to giggle at the butt trumpet! Cracks me up every time I hear it played.

Hooked on a feeling...that tonight's gonna be a good night...

I left work and ran home to feed and walk my furbabies. I just love how excited they are to see me after I've been gone all day. Well, Annie is excited to see me because I've been gone for an equivalent of three days in dog time. Sunshine is happy to see me because it means she gets to eat finally after starving the equivalent of three days in dog time. She can hardly contain the exasperation and contempt of my trying to say hello with affection. Like a teenager, she rolls her eyes and whines "Mooooommmmm! I'm Huuuuuunnnnnggggrrryyyy!" At least Annie lets me say hello to her before running for her food dish. The haste of getting home and taking care of the girls was due to a sudden urge to shop. I had a desperate need to go to Bath and Body Works. I dunno, I ran out of my regular shower gel and I needed a new poof. Fifty bucks later I was spent.

Since I've been craving chocolate cake I stopped at Publix before coming home. Publix bakery usually has a variety of cake slices out.  I needed laundry detergent and toilet paper too so figured I'd knock it out after a little fun retail therapy. After leaving the "mall," if you want to call it that, I swung around to the Publix right next door. This is not my normal Publix. The last time I was in this location I almost lost my brand new cell phone in the liquor store and Huck lost track of me and couldn't understand why I wasn't responding. Ok...so I walk right to the bakery to locate the coveted slice of chocolate cake. There wasn't a single slice on the table. Not a single slice of cake. There were cookies and pastries other sweets but not the damn chocolate cake! What do I do? I leave the buggy in the middle of the aisle and high tail it out. Shoot. I'm no dummy...I'm  heading to the Publix location I normally shop.

The parking lot at my local Publix is hairy. There are people pulling in and backing out and not paying attention to their surroundings. I fear for my safety every time! Anywho I park and walk in, grab a buggy, and head straight for the bakery. There is a table loaded with slices of cake. Red Velvet, Carrot, butter-cream frosted vanilla, Dennis the Menace cake...but no effing chocolate fudge! WTF?! Oh! Brilliant thought! Maybe they have one of those fancy cupcakes! I walk to the counter and look at the offering and I am not pleased. I don't want the whole cake-just one effing slice! The bakery lady sees I'm in distress and comes over to help. I immediately go into my rant of looking forward to a slice of chocolate cake, all I wanted was a slice of chocolate cake. There are no slices on the table and what are my chances of getting just a slice of chocolate cake? She asked me what kind of icing and I tell her fudge. This sweet lady then asks me to step in and take a peek. There were shelves of cake slices in the back freezer! She pointed to the chocolate fudge slices and said, "take your pick sweetie." Music to my ears! I got chocolate cake!!! Score!

Here's an observation. I like ice cream. That isn't the observation. The way I like to eat my ice cream is when it's soft and a little melty is the observation. I think this is why I like Dairy Queen so much. I love soft serve ice cream because it is the perfect texture for me immediately. I buy ice cream at Publix and it's hard in the container. I don't pull the ice cream container out of the freezer when I want it. I pull it out of the freezer 20 minutes before. Why? So it's melty. And don't you dare judge me for eating ice cream out of the container! It's the only way to do it! This way the melty ice cream is on the edges and I can scoop it starting on the outside and moving in as it melts more to the center. I know. It's kind of weird. Never said I was normal. The funny thing is Huck likes his ice cream kinda melty too. And he likes Dairy Queen! I have no idea why I'm so tickled by that but it makes me smile!

Aaaaaannnnddd I'm outtie! G'night!

Like a girl.

Bugs don't bother me. Well, let's clarify. It doesn't bother me to see a bug. I grab the Raid and let it do the dirty work for me. But if said bug is skittering my way quickly I am a bit bothered by that. I have two dogs with food containers and treat jars. I have a garage. The property behind the townhouse I live in is swampy and we've had a lot of rain. Though I clean my place on a regular basis I see an occasional bug. Ok, roach. As I normally am this time of the evening, I'm parked on the couch. I moved one of the large accent pillows to prop a leg up and saw movement in my peripheral. Gah! Darn roach is running towards me! So what do I do? I throw the pillow towards the TV, get tangled up in my squishy blanket while I try to shove the coffee table back violently, try to stand up, knock over my full Tervis of water, and...squealed like a girl while jumping up and down in one place like a lunatic.  This all happened in about three seconds before I finally managed to gather my senses and wits. Go get the Raid dip shit! I chased the freakin' thing across the den, under the desk, and up the wall with deadly nerve spray. It's upside down now and legs are twitching. All the while the dogs are looking at me like I've lost my mind. I need to flush it before one of the girls tries to eat it. Yeah, that's happened too. 

I wonder something. Why do banks bother offering apps for smartphones if components of the app don't work? I use my bank app for three things; check my balance, transfer funds, and pay bills. My bank finally added the mobile deposit function. Being able to deposit a check with a simple picture is the greatest thing!  I tried the mobile deposit function today and received error messages. The picture wasn't clear or the numbers didn't match then I finally exceeded my allotment of mobile deposit attempts. What a pain in the butt. I thought mobile banking was supposed to make banking more convenient? 

Late night TV has changed. In the background there is a show on called Way Out West. It's about two families with adjoining properties  working together to keep their ranches running. How is it the Hatfield and McCoy families get to make a TV show about nothing? Are there really that many people out there that want to know about a ranching family helping another ranching family cut trees along the adjoining property lines? I have to admit the side story about the girlfriend of one hillbilly trying to break a wild horse is pretty amazing. I realize the horse has been worked with for days and possibly weeks before she actually saddles him the first time but it's still amazing. Especially when the guy trying to break the horse was almost thrown the "day" before. 

I still haven't gotten my chocolate cake. Had to make do with a couple Hershey macadamia kisses. These little gems are part of the mind losing stint at the Hershey store in Chicago the weekend before last. That really was a fun trip but I am glad to be back in the swing of things at home. Though I love traveling and experiencing new places afar I really enjoy weekends at home spending time with my Huck, too. Nothing like a stay-cation with the most incredible man in the history of ever!

Oh! Pawn Stars is on! Chum is such a dumbass. 

Night y'all! 

Mr. Sandman bring me a...slice of chocolate cake

It's funny how a person becomes invested in fictional characters and speak about them like family. I'm not ashamed to say I am guilty of this. I become so invested. I've watched many shows from the very first season and some I picked up along the way by happenstance or recommendation. I will tell you I am not above gorging on three seasons in one weekend. I did that in October last year with Game of Thrones. I did it a few months before with Downton Abbey. And before that I did it with True Blood. I've become engrossed in another show though I didn't spend a weekend in yoga pants and dirty ponytail hair to be brought up to speed. I watched the first couple episodes of the first season and felt pretty confident I learned enough to pick it up in season three. Suits. Every character on that show is a legit bad-ass in their own right. Maybe after the season ends, in two more episode (sob), I'll go back and watch what I missed because who doesn't want to see someone get Litt up?

I've been participating in a Facebook sweep of sorts. A friend of mine invited others to name 3 positive things about their day for 7 days. I completed day three today. I've come to realize today that my positives aren't just single things I encountered but more a realization of the positives in my life. For instance, today I realized how blessed I truly am. My life could be so much worse. I've done my best in the past few years to think positive and live positive. So when something comes along to stress me out or bring me down there is an immediate and very significant shift that allows me to receive the blessing in the message. Its amazing! Life brings us gifts everyday. I learned I have to be willing to receive those gifts in order to realize them. Stop sweating the small stuff and focus on what matters. To me, what matters is the well being of my loved ones. All I want is for everyone important in my life to be happy. Since only they can bring their own happiness its up to me to help them realize it if that makes sense.

Tonight's minutiae of my life is going to be short. To try something different I brought my handy little Chromebook to bed with me so I could write while relaxing instead of listen to the blare of the TV. Little did I know this decision was going to make me so relaxed I'd fall asleep mid stream. Though I've perked up for the moment I can feel my eyelids getting heavier by the second. 

Alright, I give in to the sandman. Huck is waiting for me in my dreams ;) Night y'all!

Swamp Donkey

Women. I can and will only speak for myself. A couple topics came up recently with my Huck that involved a short and quick, though funny, conversation about why women wear makeup. The first event involved why I was all made up for a "date night" which, to me, is just a standard title for spending time with your forever-after love once a week. Of course, I use this phrase loosely since there really isn't a term or phrase or title to describe what Huck and I have. We just...are. There isn't a title that can describe the love we share. We love each other with great depth and need. And desire. Not that kind of desire though that happens too but the kind of need and desire you have for the one person in your life you want to share each and every moment with, share each and every thought with, and share each and every everything with. And Sugar, I only use titles because I don't have other words to describe what we have and what we are.  Stop checking your pulse. But I enjoyed your reaction to an obvious dislike for my choice of words and I love you still :)

It has been my past experience when a man comments on something you do, wear, or change isn't always a compliment. On the contrary. The comment is usually his polite way of saying, "um yeah I'm not digging it." So date night. I love eye shadow. I love to wear eye shadow. I have brown eyes. How effing boring is that? So on occasion I wear my eye makeup to be sultry, inviting, sexy. Maybe this is a bit off but the smokey bedroom eye has caught many eyes. In the past. So on date night I decided to make my eyes up. I figured poor Huck was in need of a change. He couldn't be content to see me all natural and plain all the time. I changed things up and did the half smokey, half bedroom eyes thing. I thought I did a decent job. After all, I was once a professional make up artist for Estee Lauder. Then I hear, "Your eyes look different." LOL! I guess my effort was more for me. Its true. We do wear make up for ourselves mostly. Oh well. 

Then there is this day that is particularly warm and all the time I spent on making myself up was wasted. I was perspiring. Ok, I was sweating. Beads of sweat proceeded to pop up on my forehead, brow, nose, and upper lip. The light dusting of expensive powder was melting. I would touch my face and a milky makeup residue appeared on my hand or fingers. While I was disgusted with the wasted attempt at being presentable I comment audibly, more to myself, why did I bother? Huck had an instant opinion which was pretty spot on. Women wear makeup for other women. Yeah. I agree. We want other women to recognize our beauty. I'm not afraid to say it. My take? I must expand. I wear make up for other women, yes. But not why you think. I wear makeup and dress nicely (usually) as a reflection of my man. I want other women to look at my Huck and see a gorgeous, well kept woman on his arm. I don't want them to see a handsome, successful man with a swamp donkey.  

Home. Sweet. Home.

I arrived home from the windy city very late and very tired. I was exhausted and couldn't wait to see my puppy girls. As I arrived at home and began the trudge to my door I imagined the happy wagging tails and the general hello excitement only dog owners understand.  I turn the key in the lock and the sweetest faces panting with enthusiastic joy of my return greeted me.  Anyone that says diamonds are a girls best friend never knew the warm fuzzy feeling the unconditional love of a dog brings.  Or dogs in my case.

As soon as I walked in the door my first thought was, "Why the fuck is it so hot in here?" Then that thought was followed up with actually asking that question out loud. I was puzzled...did I turn up the AC before I left? No. Maybe my dog sitter thought she'd help me out and did it for me. No. Why would she do that? She'd take a bullet for one of my girls...why on earth would she make it so warm knowing they'd be inside in the stagnant warm air? My initial thoughts kept moving away from the obvious problem. The AC is broken. It was late and there was nothing I could do but to suffer through the discomfort of sleeping in the heat. It was 88 degrees upstairs. I opened the windows, turned on the fans, and took a cool shower washing my hair. Wet hair was always my remedy as a kid to help me stay cool enough to fall asleep.  It helped but I think I got four solid hours of sleep. I woke up sweating and continued to sweat until the AC was finally fixed last night. 

I slept like a rock. It was cool enough to fall asleep last night but not cool enough to get under the covers. I turned out the lights and I got comfy on top of my bedspread after the ritual goodnight "I love you" to my Huck and finally drifted off to sleep. Sweet splendid sleep. I knew I had dreams. Don't remember them all too much but they were active. I woke to my alarm, sorta. I heard it. Then I ignored it. I finally decided it was time to turn over and realized I wasn't alone in the bed. And I was rolled up like a burrito in the comforter. I'm not normally a deep sleeper so sounds and movement wake me up enough to make me aware. My Sunshine was curled up behind my knees and I never knew she hopped in the bed. I must have gotten cold and pulled the comforter over me but I remember none of this. She must have gotten cold enough to be a normal dog and snuggle with her mistress instead of stand over me and pant her hot breath in my face. 

Oh, yeah. Stepping on one of these barefoot sucks. 

I don't know why, but...

I'm butt ass tired. I love to travel. I love to visit new places. I love experiencing life as a local in a strange city. I'm in Chicago for the first time in my life and there is so much great architecture. I'm in a great hotel on the water and the view couldn't be more amazing. I have a view of the water and that makes me happy. I love the water. Just to see it. To be near it. To be on it. I may have been a pirate in a past life. Aside from some great meals (and drinks, can't forget the drinks) with my great co-workers and boss-men I've been exploring on my own. I'm in awe of the architecture and the hustle of the city. Seeing such beautiful buildings makes my life so much more complete. I made my way to the Hersey store this morning and lost my mind completely. I'm not kidding y'all. $100 in chocolate. I can't explain what happened to me!

My flight here was delayed, delayed some more, and delayed again so they put me on a different flight. The flight I was originally supposed to be on ended up leaving Ft. Lauderdale 30 minutes before the flight I was switched to. Gee, thanks Southwest. The flight was uneventful but I swear the pilot wanted to make sure the tires stuck to the runway on landing. We hit so hard I think my left kidney is still lodged in my lungs. I had the opportunity to sit next to a "dead-head" once many years ago. He explained pilots who land that hard are normally retired naval pilots used to landing on aircraft carriers. Ok, I can see that but he may have been trying to feed me a line, too.

It's Friday night and I'm so tired I'm wired. I miss my doggies. I miss my Huck and can't wait to spend time with him. I miss my own bed and pillows. I don't pack enough clothes. Actually, I packed plenty but not a large variety. I guess every trip that has a bonus has a not so bonus. I have a long busy day ahead of me tomorrow. I'm excited to be here to work. It's an amazing experience and love that I've met so many of our great students. Even had some pictures made! Also ran in to some wonderful people I don't get to work with everyday. All in all I think this trip is turning out quite nice. Can't wait for some real free time to really explore!

And I have the most humongous, painful zit on my face. I thought by my age this would be over. I noticed as I get older the zits I get take on a life of their own. Why did this friggin' thing end up by my nose? Why hasn't it erupted yet? Why does it hurt so much? I think I've had more zits as an adult than I did as a teenager. I always had clear skin growing up. What the eff? Oh. And my dear, lovely work-friend noticed I was having a hot flash today. She says, "seems you are beginning to experience your own personal summers." Well that's one way to put it. She could have easily said, "Bitch you are getting old." Gah!

I need to turn it all off. G'night!

Just a peek...

Bikini tops. Strapless dresses. Sexy, lacy lingerie. Pretty bras. Halter tops. Sweaters that button. Tube tops. Strapless anything. Jumping rope. Jogging. Being jostled in anyway.

Pssshh. I could go on. 

These are all the things I miss out on or become instantly self conscious because I have a rack.  I haven't been able to wear a sexy, strappy bikini top since I was a teenager. Even then I was a moving violation. Strapless dresses or tops? Please...and forget about trying to button anything. Clothes hang differently. Always awkward and twisted. Certain styles make me look like I'm packing balloons. I try hard to dress so I don't look sloppy. Not easy with extra large fun bags.  Bras suck. Even when fitted with expensive designer bras they still dig and bind and don't fit quite right. And geez they are ugly. Not to mention the constant shoulder and neck pain from hoisting the extra weight. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about my endowments. It is what it sounds like though, huh?

The "girls" are an extension of my personality. I do not wish to jinx their very much appreciated existence. I only want you to understand my life blessed with twin peaks. I'm leered at by indecent men. Horn taps and cat calls are part of my daily outings. Some men, and women too, have a difficult time making eye contact with me because I decided it was a good idea to wear cleavage. Even my gays love my rack!  Look, there are most definitely larger racks out there. I am not saying my rack is the best or largest. It's definitely natural! I'm just acknowledging I have one and am darn proud of it. But you there.  You. The guy that thinks it's appropriate to follow the thick chick with a large rack around Publix while drooling...I could hear your neanderthal grunts of approval and heavy breathing. Dude. Go buy a magazine or something. Sheesh!

Love never fails, this is true...but...have I gone off the deep end?

I poured an extra tall vodka and juice in my Huck's sippy cup, a 60/40 split.  Ok, so maybe the vodka and juice to start the weekend after a stressful week wasn't such a great idea. I don't really know what got in to me and why I'm an emotional basket case right now. The week has passed quickly which means, in my mind, it was busy. And it was. I spent work hours trying to catch up with my own tasks and keep my buddies tasks afloat. I tried to be a buffer against the not so brilliant cast of the inept and dull-witted tools I work with.  The rest of my time was immersed in school and home obligations. Not that I want to talk shop...no I don't want to talk shop. But. I have my work, keeping up with my buddy's work, and trying to keep my boss-man stress free about an out of state work event has been a challenge and a half.  Throw in study time and time with my Punk...I needed a daggum drink. At least I thought I did. I spread my self to thin this week. And no Huck to boot! Woe-is-me! Someone call the Wambulance!

The drink is long finished and there is not even a buzz. Not even an inkling of a buzz. What the hec? Instead, I feel down. Blue. Glum. Morose. Dejected. I don't know where I belong. I don't even want to sleep another night alone in my bed. As a matter of fact I may just sleep on the couch tonight I'm that despondent. Of course I'll go to bed, I'm just being contemptuous. I'm having the most intense emotional moment and I don't know what to do with myself.  It's past that time of month. OMG it must be the raging hormones of the "change." I so want that part of being a woman over and done with. I swear if I could talk a doctor into removing a perfectly healthy uterus...Whatever it is I'm stuck in this tear producing, snot sucking, red-rimmed eyed vortex. Yeah, I know. Alcohol is a depressant. The events of the week haven't been the best and has certainly been compounded with throwing some alcohol on it. What a dumbass. Never claimed to be a genius.

Yeah, baby, yeah!

Please don't misunderstand. I like being busy. I like not having too much time to think. It keeps me from going bat shit crazy. Especially at work. Especially at home. If I'm busy then I can't dwell on being alone. And lonely. Staying busy doesn't allow the time to over think my position and circumstance. Being alone isn't the problem. It's an abstract concept for the gal that has never lived alone before but being lonely, that's where I fail. Aside from my fur babies my nest is empty. And there I go again with the water works...what the shit!?! And it sucks I hate telling people I need them.

I try so hard to live each moment with love. I truly believe our positive thoughts and action attract same. So what gives? Why am I having such a negative day? I really don't know where this came from because I was fine this afternoon. It's time to stop whining and get busy again. There are plenty of things for me to do...just do it.