"It's Normal" That Isn't Helpful.

I find myself staring down a long road of anxiety and fear. I never expected to be here. Hoped, yes, hoped with the desire of a thousand suns. But Expected? Not so much.
 Here I am 2 weeks out from the BIG 4-0 and the stick I peed on didn't included the "Not" in front of the "Pregnant".
Pregnant.
PREGNANT!!!!!
4 years of trying, a miscarriage, countless needles and blood test. Having Little Man was hard fought, and hard won. I never wanted Little Man to be an only child. I know how much support (and pain) siblings can be, and I wanted him to have it all. And here I am, in the position to give it all to him. A week of knowing is followed by days of extreme anxiety. Doubt. Worry.
Spotting.
I've been there. I knew that time, I knew it was bad. And I waited, waited to see if it was just a one time thing. It wasn't. But that time, that time I knew things weren't going quite as planned. That development had appeared to stop. I had weekly Dr visits to help prepare me. "Ease" me into it. Help explain.
This time? No. None of that. There is some concern on part of the Dr's office. But it is more, "Wait and see".  For them it is routine.
This kind of waiting is torture. Don't they know that? I need answers. I need a direction. I need you to know this isn't routine for me.
I need a hand to hold.
In this situation, I am high maintenance. I'm not asking you to rub my feet, I'm asking you to ease my mind. Help quite my soul, and calm my racing heart.
I want this pregnancy to "stick". I keep telling the little itty bitty baby that it is already loved. That it is wanted.
That it needs to grow and be healthy.
Close my eyes.
Breath.
Pray.
Wait.
Pray.

I am NOT that F'ing OLD!!!

The other weekend I picked up my phone to check Face Book and saw that I had a ton of "private messages". Since the "upgrade" for FB on Android SUCKS SWEATY BALLS, I was unable to see the full source of the messages.  I commandeered F's laptop and ended up spending the next hour reading message after message concerning my TWENTY YEAR HIGH SCHOOL REUNION.
The Fuck?  Twenty years??? 20 YEARS.  How the hell has it been 20 years? HOW!!!???
I decided instead of everyone in the class scrolling through enumerable messages, it would be quicker, and easier, to just set up a FB Group for said reunion. That is how I found myself the Admin of my TWENTY YEAR reunion FB Group.  I'm not even the one who started the discussion! I simply created a group. Easy Peasy. So far it seems that most people are quite willing to attend said reunion next year. I am actually shocked at how quickly the "Will Attends" started adding up.  I am also rather shocked at how many people are requesting to be my friends. Honestly? Some I am having a really hard time remembering who they are. I read through some of the names on the "Members" list, and I'm all, "Who the Fuck? That person was so not in my class!"
And then I got one friend request that made me slam the laptop closed in disgust. "Seriously?!!?" I mentally screamed at the FB request. "SERIOUSLY?!?!?! After YOU unfriended ME you want to be 'friends' again?? I am SO NOT answering this right now!" Then I remembered that I chronicled my disgust back when the self important unfriending happened. That I could relive the moment clearly instead of just from memory. I still haven't answered his friend request. I  just don't know if it is really worth it. Is it silly of me to still be hacked about something that happened 2.5 years ago? I don't need to be "friends" with everyone that asks, right? I have control over that. Might it seem bitchy? Probably. But I can't say I really care. Ok, maybe a little, I hate hurting people's feelings. I just keep going back to how he unfriended people to begin with and how it has been almost three years and he is just now noticing that I'm no longer one of his friends.
OMG, Face Book, you create too many issues!!!!! I am slightly disappointed in myself that I am even spending time on this! I just decided, I am NOT going to accept, so there, NAH!

December Will Have More Than One Joyous Birth

I promise this isn't the actual stick. I had a blood test.
This is a picture of someone else's pee stick from the internet.

Spoon Me

F and I have joined Weight Watchers.  I am more points conscious than he is. He hasn’t logged a point since we’ve started and he’s lost 4.6lbs. I have logged like crazy and have lost a mere 2.4lbs.  I know men lose faster than women do, but seriously, twice as much? And without doing any of the work? So not fair.  Anyway, we signed up for the E-Tools because it has an App feature. I think it sucks, but whatever.  I was logging some cake and noticed the “cheat sheet” icon. So I clicked on it for the Mexican Fiesta! Who doesn’t love a good Mexican Fiesta? Exactly.  I am reading the tips they give; stay away from the chips, get veggies, skip the margarita(HA!), get the smaller size, etc. When I read one tip and said to myself, REALLY? FUCKING REALLY?? WHO WOULD DO THAT???

“Speak up if you have special requests. Ask for salsa or pico de gallo instead of an oily salad dressing or cheese sauce. Order your fajitas with only one tortilla so you can save PointsPlus values and enjoy the rest of the filling on its own. Find out if they can bring sour cream and guacamole out on teaspoons instead of in a bowl or cup. All these little changes together will save you a lot of fat and calories.”

On teaspoons. TEASPOONS. I can just imagine the reaction of the server. “Teaspoons? You want teaspoons?”

“Yes, of sour cream.”

“What?”

If someone has done this I would really like to know because that just blows my mind

“Excuse me! Yes, I’m ready for my next teaspoon of sour cream please!”

How about using just a knife’s worth of sour cream instead of slopping it on? That is a more reasonable to do tip, don’t you think?

What is the craziest thing you have requested when ordering your food? Did you have a “When Harry Met Sally” moment?

Pay Up BITCH!

I recently got a new credit card and hadn't made a first payment yet.  Six days before it was due I get this e-mail from them:

Date E-mail sent 03/15/2011:
Your [redacted] card payment due date is approaching and we have not yet received your payment. If you have already scheduled your payment, please disregard this notice. Log In to schedule a payment now.



Minimum Payment Due$149.00



Payment Due Date March 21, 2011
 
 
Needless to say, I was a tad freaked out because then I thought I hadn't scheduled it via my online banking(best invention EVER) to make the payment. I quickly logged in and saw that I had made it for the VERY NEXT DAY. I breathed a sigh of relief and then silently cursed out the credit card company for

 unnecessarily raising my stress level. Apparently, Five days early just isn't early enough.

Friendly reminder? Maybe.
Firing squad intensity? Most decidedly.

Thanks-giving Me a Stress Twitch

I opted to Adult Up and host Thanksgiving this year. After the first year I did it, and almost killed my then BF (now hubs) my family was a little skittish. I assured them that there would be no repeat of a death match. All would be well, I had it all under control. Turkey? BAG, no basting required, painless.  Martha Stewart was providing the mashed potato recipe(somewhat doctored by me). Real Simple was providing a REAL SIMPLE green bean with bacon vinaigrette recipe. Mom provided the stuffing recipe, and the apple pie recipe. The grocery store provided the brown and serve rolls. "I GOT THIS" was my mantra. F insisted on coming along to do the grocery shopping. It is times like these that I wish he was as uninvolved in the kitchen as most husbands are.  I had a list that he keep wanting to deviate from, annoying. Then he insisted that he would go get all the fruit and vegetables because he a) knows better and more importantly (to him) b) he could get it cheaper at the fruit market. FINE.
I had the day before thanksgiving off. My PREP Day. I had at least 4 items I planned on checking off my list that day.  And that went downhill the minute I over slept. Until 11:30am. Yeah. Guess I needed it. I got up, showered and strapped on my "apron". One of F's old dress shirts with the sleeves removed. Hey, what can I say? When you've got the boobs I've got, you need more coverage that the average apron.  And I was OFF! to the couch to watch TV while I peeled and cored apples for the pie. If you bake apple stuff? Or any good sized fruit that requires peeling; You NEED one of these:

Time Saver!!

Then I went on to make the pie crusts, my second attempt only at making pie crust, ever! My brother laughed at me when I called about the crumb topping recipe, "Aren't you like 36? and you've never made pie crust before?"  Apple pie crust came out pretty well! I filled it with the apples and placed it in the freezer downstairs since the fridge was FULL. I moved on to the chocolate pie. At the rate I was going I knew I could still get the potatoes done and in the crock pot for the next day where they would just be warmed up through out the day. SCORE! Less stress baby!!!
Um, yeah. Not so much.
Being my mother's daughter I was all about making everything possible from scratch. The pie crusts, the potatoes, etc. I placed the second pie crust in the oven and while that baked I started the COOKED pudding, not INSTANT. My timing was near on PREFECT! Pudding finished just moments before the crust! Another SCORE! I was in my happy place! I could do it all bitches!! I was contemplating making dinner before F got home from work as well! I was feeling that good about my progress.
Pudding was cooling on the back of the stove. Pie crust was removed and placed on top of the stove.
And that is when it all fell apart.



PING! PING! PING! Yes, those are the sounds of glass pie plate hitting glass top stove

 



Amazingly I had the presence of mind to take pictures for you

 

My mother insisted I could NOT just place the crust in a new pie plate

Apparently, from what SIL who works for a glass company told me later at Christmas dinner, the minuscule drop of milk that was on the stove top created a vacuum with the glass pie plate which caused it to break. (yes I saw the milk droplet and thought nothing of it). At 4:30pm the night before Thanksgiving I found myself at the grocery store. OMG. What a crazy place!!! I raced down the aisle picking up things I had forgotten. I almost cried when the shelf where I purchased the two pie plates two weeks (at TWICE THE COST!!) before were EMPTY.  I had made up my mind to skip it and just use the metal pan I had at home when I saw a kindly looking employee. She assured me that there were more pie plates! But just WHERE, now that's the question??????? My heart sank again as she took to the meat section of the store. WHAT?? Who places a pie making display in the meat aisle!!!???
I stood in line with everyone else in town, the express lane was not so express.  I rushed home to start again on the crust. By now it was after 5.  The crust? Went in the trash. The two recipes are right next to each, one for two 8in pies and one for two 10in pies. I got them crossed and didn't add enough Crisco. TRASHED.
Things were going downhill fast. I still hadn't riped up and seasoned the bread so it could stale overnight. The potatoes were still in the bag. I started a fresh crust. It was super thin, but I was tired and hadn't had any dinner, so I patched it together, literally, and stuck it in the oven. By now the pudding was beyond set and cold. Lovely. Thankfully F had seen the need and started in on the bread for the stuffing.  When it came time to put the pudding in the crust, there wasn't enough pudding. The pudding was a good inch lower then the edge of the pie crust. It looked bad. Luckily I found a box of instant pudding in the cupboard, that however only brought the level up sightly.  I was on the verge of tears as F stated, "Just go to the store and get another one." He apparently has never been to the grocery store the night before Thanksgiving. Or made cooked pudding. I refused to go. I was done. I was giving in. Admitting defeat. I covered the pie and found room in the fridge for it.  I was dead on my feet. I couldn't think. I knew there was no way I could do the potatoes without staying up until midnight. It was already nine.  I cleaned up the kitchen, threw a few decoration up and called it night.
I figured getting up at 8 would give me plenty of time to do the potatoes, and green beans and get the turkey in the oven. I got up at 7:30. I should have gotten up at 6. Maybe even earlier.  I had read my mom's directions as closely as I should have, because I COMPLETELY missed the time line for making the stock.

Her exact directions: "(...)TURKEY neck, heart, giblets to pot and simmer for 1 hour - DO NOT boil.
you can make it a day ahead or VERY EARLY on Thanksgiving morning; keep simmering on stove ALL day so you can use it to moisten stuffing that's in crock pot while it cooks. may need more water or broth as day goes on."
I completely missed the whole ONE HOUR, and VERY EARLY. Yeah. PANIC. I called on F to help, "I'm SEVERAL hours behind, I need your help!! Please do the potatoes! The directions are on the fridge."
And by " Do the potatoes" I meant mash them and add all the ingredients and put them in the crock pot to keep warm. F started reading the recipe, completely failing to notice that that morning that I had already peeled and cut them. I see him dump the cooked potatoes out and start rinsing them.
 "What are you doing?"
 "It says they need to cool enough so I can rub the peels off (oh Martha, really? REALLY?) and then cut them up."
"F, look at them, they are already peeled and cut. Just mash them and add the stuff."
He looks at me, looks at the recipe, and starts to walk away, leaving the potatoes in the strainer.
"What are you doing NOW?????"
"They can cool, then I'll mash them later."
"No. Mash them, Now Please. They are easier to mash when hot (i have no idea if that is true.)."
"Fine."
"You'll probably have to do them in the crock pot."
Somewhere along the line he had add water to the crock pot. I had no idea how truly clueless he was about making real mashed potatoes.
He mashes the potatoes and starts to walk away again.
"You're done already???"
"Yeah, about 2 I'll add the stuff in and turn them on for dinner."

Mind you, at this point it is probably closing in on noon.

"Um, no. You need to do it now."
"It can wait, Trust me."
"No, it CANNOT wait. Dinner is at 3, do you really think they'll heat all the way back up in an hour??????"
"We can turn it on High." (his answer for any cooking temp, I swear to god.)
"F. PLEASE just do as I ask, OK?"
Grudgingly he complies.
I won't even go into the issues and arguments he gave me about making the stuffing. BREAD stuffing, something he has NEVER made in his life, and yet he KNEW how to do it!! (sarcasm in case you missed it) And then he questioned my brother when he arrived because he refused to believe I knew what I was talking about.
Long story short? I under estimated how long the turkey needed to cook. At 2 o'clock the timer still read 2 hours cooking time left. We were suppose to eat at 3.
At 2 o'clock when family started to arrive I was still in my yoga pants and a Renaissance Festival T-shirt.
At 2 o'clock when SES (martha stewart jr) arrived, I immediately put her to work making the Real Simple Green Beans with Bacon Vinaigrette recipe which was to be served cold, but only the beans, not the vinaigrette. Which was also cold, when we ate 2 hours later.
At 2 o'clock the apple pie was still frozen solid. I forgot to take it out of the freezer in the morning. I had planned to cook it in a HOT oven while we ate dinner. I was of course PETRIFIED that putting an extremely cold glass dish in a hot oven would result in yet another pie plate disaster (see pics above). I realized I could set it on a trivet on top of the hot stove to thaw.  It worked, mostly.
At 3:30 we decided that the turkey meet the temperature requirement and ES_BIL started to carve away. He hit pink meat close to the rib cage. Luckily we had enough cooked meat to feed everyone. The mashed potatoes were watery because I had put the lid on the crock pot to keep the heat in, and the condensation dripped back down into the potatoes. Who knew?
F forgot the salad and had to run out minutes before dinner and buy some.
So let's re-cap shall we?
Broken pie plate setting the schedule back by several hours.
Under cooked turkey.
Frozen apple pie.
Cold veggie dressing that was suppose to  be hot.
Watery potatoes.
Forgotten side dish.
Argumentative husband(when he wasn't being helpful.)
Me on verge of nervous breakdown to the point that ES keep rubbing my back telling it will all be ok and they didn't care if we ate an hour later.
The problem chocolate pudding pie crust? Tasteless.

At least my table was pre-set and looked pretty.



We went to four different stores before we found that table cloth at Khol's
 where we started


Oh, and no one got sick from under cooked food.
Amen.

An Open Letter

Dear Target,

You used to be my Mecca, my Nirvana, my haven of easy finds and great sales. That has come to an end. At first, it was just one or two things that disappeared. I could no longer find a great purse that someone my age could get away with. Then all your shoes grew their heels super high and I could no longer wear them. These things I found elsewhere, while I would still glance through those aisle in hopes that maybe things had gone back to what they were. To no avail. Then other thing started disappearing from your shelves. Curling irons, this didn’t matter until I needed one. Then my face powder, then my eyeliner. And hairspray. And shampoo. And gel. I was forced to find these items from other merchants. This brought me no joy. My complete beauty routine had vanished from your well lite aisles. Save for one last piece, my hair coloring product. I could easily pluck my new found color from the bright aisle of yellow and green boxes. Until now. Now, nothing. Every color BUT mine. I check the manufacture’s website, they still make my Sweet Latte’, Dark Beige Blonde. #72. You just don’t seem to carry it.

What is the deal Target?? Why have all my shades and colorings gone from your walls? F thinks I’m crazy when once in a while I actually FIND my shade of face powder and I BUY THEM ALL. Yes, 3 or 4 of them at a time. This is how extremely rare these finds are. I’ve completely given up on my eyeliner.

Why do you deny me? Do you want me to not feel somewhat pretty? Or is my coloring just that popular that you can’t keep it stocked?? Small thing I actually remember from my horrid semester in Econ, SUPPLY and DEMAND. Your supply is not meeting my DEMAND.

Please rectify this IMEDIATELY.

I miss you.

But I am terribly upset and disappointed with you.



Discolored,



Devil’s Heaven

Minus The Ears

 I went and was fitted for my elephant face, minus the ears of course.  I was a few minutes early to my fitting appointment with David, my own personal on-call-but-please-don't-call-me support tech. I was willing to wait, especially after he made this proclamation to me: "Sorry if my breath smells weird, I just had shrimp for lunch." And oddly enough, I could smell that fishy smell the minute I walked in. So glad to have it explained away. I would have waited for him to get a mint to make it GO AWAY though.  David was very careful to tell me he'd sanitized his hands before he began touching my elephant trunk and nose. Of course I'm not sure that really helped after he said to me: "Sorry about the sniffling, my allergies are really bothering me."

This kid was a barrel of one liners. He was visibly and verbally surprised by my proficiency in placing the nose contraption on my head; "WOW. Most people don't figure it out right away."  Ummm, maybe you need to review the patient/tech privacy handbook there David.

There was a ton of paper work to be filled out, and David ASSURED me that he would call me within "48 to 72 hours to see how you are doing."  It has been over a week now and David has not called to check up on me, or to fill me in on the re-ordering process for the gel nose piece and it's cover. Guess I'll have to do the calling myself.

Anyhoodle, is what I came home with:

The face mask AKA the elephant nose and trunk



The "Machine"



The full contraption, assembled and ready to go



"So Comfortable...You might forget you're wearing it"
 TOTAL LIE.

I forgot to take a picture of the Sporty carrying bag. I'll have to take it out of the closet and snap a pic for ya'll.

Things I Learned From PANDORA.com

THREE WHOLE verses of KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKIN' on HEAVEN'S DOOR
Could this song be any darker and death-y??

Subjugation seems like a mighty big word for a song with THREE WHOLE VERSES of the same FIVE words over and over again.
I'm just sayin........

Just Call Me Babar

I hadn't heard from either my Dr's office or the Sleep Clinic in two weeks, so I called my Dr. They had my results, but were unable to open them, computer related crap, blah blah blah, we'll get back to you.  A few days pass, and they call with the results, SEVERE sleep apnea. And I can tell you it must be VERY severe because the nurse who called paused and then STRESSED the word SEVERE. I think she even said it a few times. For effect. So basically, yeah, I'm close to death when I sleep from lack of breathing. SWEET.

Not an hour later, the sleep clinic was calling to make sure they get my Medically Insured Reimbursed business. I go in the next few days for my training and to pick up my C-PAP machine with its ""very convent and sporty duffel bag for easy transportation."

 YES. SPORTY.  What more can a girl ask for??

The Elephant.....





And it's trunk



And the Nose

This thing can have its own PILLOW??? Oh brother.



Am I wrong here people???



Do you see it? I'll look like I'm wearing an ELEPHANT'S FACE




Forced Air Breathing

Sleep study is done. Surprise! I have Sleep Apnea. I haven't gotten the full diagnosis from my actual doctor, but the Sleep Tech was rather impressed with my lack of breathing.
It took a good hour to fill out all the paper work and for my Sleep Tech to attached all the electrodes to my head. When she was done I kind of looked like the Queen Borg with all the wires coming off my head.

I of course still had my hair

I was completely exhausted when I arrived at the sleep clinic, and so of course I assumed I would have no problem falling asleep in the nice big bed I was going to have all to myself, in the nice dark and quiet room I would also have all to myself. Yeah, not so much. The mass of wires attached to not only my head, but my face and legs as well, was less than easy to sleep with. There was a nose piece in my nose that had another piece hanging from in case I began breathing through my mouth. It kept stabbing my upper lip. The tangling and rolling over and the leds poking me in my face, not so comfortable. I think I finally managed to fall a sleep around midnight only to wake up and become horribly antsy at 1 am.  My legs were spazing out. I couldn't get comfortable, I was about to freak the hell out when I decided it might help if I went to the bathroom.  That of course was no small task. And something I needed help doing.  I lay still in the dark room and timidly called out to my Sleep Tech, "Hello????"
Over the intercom she answers, "Do you need to use the restroom?"
"yes" I responded feeling foolish.
She came to my room and unhooked the mass of wires from the main thing they were plugged into, and slung the mini board around my neck.  Going to the restroom? Not at all graceful. I had wires down my sleep shorts which were connected to my legs, I had all the others from my head and face slung around my neck and an oxygen monitor on one of my fingers. AWK.WARD.
I shuffled back into the room where the Sleep Tech was waiting for me. "I'm going to put the C-PAP mask on you now."

His is too big for his face, but yeah

The head straps there went under all the wires that were coming out of my head.  It forces air in. Making it harder for you to stop breathing.  I thought I might need the full face mask:



This one covers your nose AND your mouth, talk about Darth Vader

 Did I mention that I had taken a sleeping pill after the Sleep Tech tucked me in the first time? Well I did. And then a mere 4 hrs later I took another half of a sleeping pill.  If was after that half that sleep FINALLY over took me. I was zonked out. At 6 AM my Sleep Tech came woke me via intercom. I was so incredibly out of it, I had to use  my GPS to drive to my mom's. A route I take on a DAILY BASIS.  My plan was to maybe nap for an hour or so and then get ready for work. I slept really hard for 2 hours. When I emerged from my old bedroom my mom looked at me and proclaimed, "You look SO MUCH better than when you got here!!!"
Thanks mom.
So, talk about sexy eh?? You know you want one of these too!

Well at least after I get this contraption F and I can sleep in the same room again. ALL NIGHT instead of just part of the night.

YAY BABY.

Sandman VS Darth Vader Mask

F complains about my snoring. He says it has gotten worse in the last year. In the last few months it has become common place for him to stumble off to the guest bedroom to sleep. Needless to say, I try and keep that bed made up, j.i.c. I haven’t been sleeping well either. I chalked this up to the fact that I was trying not to disturb him, and hence became a light sleeper. On my annual visit to my Dr., she asked if I needed any refills on any of the meds from last year. I told her the one that was suppose to make me sleep didn’t work (it was for depression, um, no), she gave me an actual sleeping pill. But first she asked me one simple question, “Does he say you ever quit breathing while asleep?” I looked at her dumbfounded. This had never occurred to me. And F had never mentioned it. When I got home that evening, I asked him, “Oh Yeah. ALL. THE. TIME.”


Seriously??? I quit breathing ALL. THE. TIME. And he NEVER mentions it??

“Well, it’s more like a; pause.”

DUDE. Not cool.

The Dr. signed me up for an at home sleep study. I received one of those oxygen nose pieces, which attached to a beeper looking thing. I popped one of my new found sleeping pills (SWEET) and proceeded to sleep. A few times the nose piece came out of one side of my nose, but if I woke up, I just shoved it back in and went back to sleep. I turned it in the next day. The following day; a Friday, the sleep center called me, to set up an onsite appointment. I didn’t call them back right away. Then my Dr.’s office called. I didn’t call them back either. The weekend passed and I slept pretty crappily, as did F. Monday morning, my Dr.’s office called me AGAIN to tell me I needed to make an appointment, ASAP. Apparently the data collected said I pretty much didn’t breath at all during the night, go figure. I did tell the lady who collected the little sleeper beeper that I tend to sleep with my mouth open, and so I think that might be part of the issue. I could be wrong. Anyway, the same lady cheerfully told me that they had a cancellation for THAT NIGHT and could I make it. Stunned, I agreed. I packed up my 2 piece sleep gear (t-shirt and shorts), my “portable” CD player and headphones with fresh batteries, my pillow; the Dr. prescribed sleep pills, and a fan, just in case it got too hot in there. From 9PM to 5 freaking 30 AM the next morning, I would be trapped in a “room” away from home.

How do they really expect anyone to really sleep during these things anyway? Telling me I HAVE TO SLEEP is like telling me I can’t have a cookie, or something to drink, because then you just know you HAVE TO HAVE IT. I guess I mean, this means I won’t sleep because I HAVE TO SLEEP. And the lady said my Dr. ordered 2 tests to be done, but most times things don’t work out that way, so people end up having to go back for the second half.

Excellent.

Slow Spiral

For several months now I’ve been feeling down. I’m having a hard time finding anything to be happy about, or that I like. It started by hating my hair. Well, actually, it probably started before that. Back when, well, we found out some not so good news. My spiral started then. I’ve been wrestling with what, if anything I wanted to share here. One day, when the bad news was more than I could take, I started an entry, of sorts, that bullet pointed my experiences and feelings. I’m still not ready to share, here. Yet. But, having put it down, having it out of my head so to speak, I’m able to concentrate. I’ve been adding bullets as things happen.

Today, though, today, I just, *sigh* I just need to vent, maybe? Get things out so I can start moving past them. So please bear with me and my pity party of one.

Yes, I still hate my hair. Even though I realize that it is just not my hair, it is what my hair is sitting on top of. My head? Well yes, in a board sense, but more, my FACE. I hate my face right now. More specifically I hate how fat it is. I pass by a mirror and am shocked, Who’s the piggy? Who’s the old angry Polish woman? (I’m polish, so I can be stereotypical about my own people, right?) My double chin is double what it used to be. My skin looks horrid. Spots, break outs, wrinkles, plain old dull. My upper arms are doughy and soft, and BIG. I don’t think I’ve had wrists since I’ve meet F. I have the wrist version of cankles. Frists? I don’t know. My stomach. Lord. The bulge. The MOUND of fat. Thunder thighs? Check and check. CANKLES, sweet heaven above, I have cankles. And sausage fingers. I have fat people fingers.

My sugar is up, as is well, EVERYTHING that should be down.

I know, eat less, and move more. It is all under my control. I GET IT. And I have been trying, but I haven’t been trying as much as I should. And the weird thing? The weird thing is, is that food doesn’t sound good to me anymore, so I hardly eat, but I’m not really losing weight. Sometimes I’m not even hungry. Sometimes, the mere mention of a certain food makes me gag. Sometimes it is the smell. The other night F made chicken and I swore it smelled like fish. I could barely bring myself to eat it. Other times I get so hungry I get ill. Everything is, OFF, and I’m at a loss as to how to correct it. There are days when getting out of bed is such a challenge. If I could just sleep for a few more hours, everything would be fine. Socializing? Who wants to be bothered with that? It is too much work.

I see, I know what it is, DEPRESSION. I’ve had bouts of it before, who hasn’t? But I’ve always managed to pull myself out of it. I’ve always managed to put it behind me and move on. Nowadays I feel like I’m treading water, I’m not going anywhere. And it all starts all over again, the spiral. The sleeplessness, the over tiredness, the flat out apathy of everyday, day after day. I’m boxed in and I don’t know how to get out.

If just, IF JUST……yes, IF JUST….then it would all be better, maybe. Right? MAYBE.

*sigh*

Look With Your Eyes

F comes upstairs and starts looking around the family room. He looks on the table. He looks on the couch. He picks up his laptop and looks at it. He places said laptop on the couch. He looks on the floor. He looks on the table again. He looks behind the couch. He picks up the camera and puts it back down.
I watch silently.
The puzzled look on his face grows as he picks up his laptop again.
Me: "What are you looking for?"
F: "The data cord for the camera." he says as he motions towards the camera that is now back on the couch.
He picks up his laptop again and looks at it puzzled and then tosses it back on the couch.
Me: " You mean the data cord that is attached to the laptop you just had in your hand?"
F: "Wha? Oh, um, yeah."
Me: "Emhmmm."

Seriously guys, LOOK WITH YOUR EYES.

Wait, what did you say?

E-mail I sent F:
09:10 AM
i have no idea where my cell phone is.

(we send each other e-mails when we forget our phones at home or couldn't find them before we left for work so the other person doesn't freak out when their calls go unanswered)

F's response:
9:11 AM
 nice... when did you have it last?

Me:
9:15 AM
yesterday.


Silence ensued for several hours there after until he sent me an e-mail in answer to a question about our evening plans:

F:
1:02 PM
no need to go and it doesn't start till 10 anyways so we wont be home till midnight... answer my text (we are old and must be in bed before midnight. what can i say.)

Me:
1:18 PM
Dude, do you not remember the e-mail I sent you this morning????????????
(yes, I am decidedly over 30 and still say DUDE. I can't quit it!)

Then at 4:30pm he calls me, at work:

F: "HAHAHAHA DH, I know you left your cell at home, but I keep calling it!!"

*insert eye roll and head shake here*

Just the Facts Ma'am

Recently, I celebrated my 36th Birthday. F asked me a month in advance what I wanted for said birthday. At the time, I was at a complete loss because my birthday was far removed from the current things on my mind. However, feeling the mostly ever present muscle ache in my lower back/hip, I requested a massage. About a week later he requested a longer list from which to choose. Again, my mind was elsewhere, I was unable to lengthen the list. (scary, i know) Life went on and I forgot my birthday pretty much altogether.  Several nights before my birthday, after being in bed for sometime, silence had settled upon on us. It had been quiet for what seemed to me a good 15 to 20 minutes. Out of the dark F queries, "So, do I have to get you a present?"
Somehow, I knew exactly what he was getting at, "Um, YES."
F: "Do I REALLY??"
Me: *sigh* "Of course!"
F: "Can't I just get you a card?"
Me: "F. Stop."
F: "Do you remember what you asked for?"
Me: "Yes."
F: "Well, I got it for you. So you can make a day out of it with SES since it is over by her house and she's actually got it."
Me: "Um, Ok?"
F: "Yep."
Me: "Thanks."
F: "Do I still have to get you a card?"
Me: "It would be nice."
F: *sigh*

DH Had Her Groove Stolen

So I've started the Zumba! class at the REC center.  Although I sweated my ASS off, I am extremely HORRIFIED to discover that the fabulous booty shakin groove I've had ALL MY LIFE has apparently disappeared. Yes, gone. Gone baby GONE. The only thing I could chalk it up to, Aerobics. Aerobics stole my groove. Aerobics is stiff? I guess you'd say. Where as Aerobics is all LEFT. RIGHT. FRONT. BACK. Zumba! is more LEFT......SWISH!.......RIGHT.......WRIGGLE!....FRONT.....DIP!!!.....DIP!!!!!!!!!!..... BACK....CHA CHA!!!!.....WAVE THOSE HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE YOU JUST DON'T CARE!!!!....SWISH! DIP! WRIGGLE!!! HOP!!! I mean seriously, not to boast too much here, but I used to be quite the hip grinding dance freak at Ladies' Night!!! at the local hot spot during college. Now? my hips were all, "DUDE! What the EFF??? That kinda HURTS!"  I've lost my ability to swish my hips. There were moments where it would dawn on me that I needed to feel the music and stop trying so hard to get the steps right, and that did help, a little, until I found myself on the wrong foot, facing the wrong way, shakin my booty when I was suppose to be tapping my heel. I realize this was only the first class, and that by the time it is over, I should be doing better. I HOPE! Seriously, I HAVE TO get my groove back!
When I got home F wanted to know how it went.

"Well, I've lost my groove."
"You had a groove??"
*evil eye* "Yes!"
"Riiight."

I'm not lookin to get the kind of groove back that would land me Ty Diggs, although, BOY HOWDY that would be an AWESOME groove to have, just the kind of groove where I wouldn't get laughed at on the dance floor during ladies night at the local watering hole. Is that so much to ask?


Oh, and to the ONE guy that was in the class with his, girlfriend(?), that fart you ripped was nasty, and she had every right to be holy embarrassed by it, and to laugh at you. Seriously, GROSS.

OOOMMM....Nooooot Reeeelaaaaaxing.....OOOOMMMM

So, I'm back in the gym.  My doctor threatened to put me on meds for my sugar level unless I can get it under control myself. So I joined a couple classes. The first is an intense workout called Butts & Guts. I didn't think I would be able to walk out of the class of my own free will. But I managed. My unused muscles were not happy with me for shocking them back into use. But I enjoyed it, and I know it will be a good 6 week class to help keep me motivated. I was also told that I needed to lower my stress level as well for overall health improvement. So I decided to take a Yoga class. Now, mind you, I have absolutely NOTHING against Yoga. I know it is a practice that has been around for eons and it has many benefits.
But, O.M.G. The Yoga instructor I have? Total FLAKE.  Some of her lines are truly gems. "Breath deep. Feel the FIIIIIIIIRE moving through your body." "Even if you drank a little water, your belly is FULL!!!" I can't remember them all, there have been so many. But the one she said last week had me falling over with disbelief. "Now.........move......into...... the Asian squat." (Her instructions are very slow in coming and usually punctuated with alot of "Ums" and giggles.Sometimes she even reads them off a paper. I don't think teaching is her strong suit.) "The Asian squat is a good one. Now I know they are getting toilet seats over there now, but before, they would just squat over a hole in the ground or floor. Right?? So you have to have a wide stance with the Asian squat. I know they got toilets for the Olympics. Right? Lots of those countries OVER THERE don't use toilets. Right?"
My head whipped up so fast, it was truly a Scooby Doo moment of "RHUUUUUUUH??!!!"
Everyone else was just trying not to make eye contact with her. Um, yeah.
Last week when it still 80 degrees outside with 60% humidity @ 8 PM, we wasted 5 minutes discussing whether or not we should have class, outside. In 80 degree weather. We ended up inside where she told us, "Remember Yoga is the dance, and your breath is your partner."
Her style, and her comments make it hard for me to relax and focus on my breathing. This class has not been the stress reliever I had hoped for. So, I've decided to take Tai Chi next.
Taught by "one of those people" from "over there" who know how to do the "Asian squat".

Namaste.

No Rocking Chair for Her

My Mom called me.

Mom: "I just HAD to tell somebody!!!"
Me: "What????"
Mom: " I just saw the most handsome, good looking piece of male flesh I've seen in about 20 years!!!"
Me: "What? MOM!!!!"
Mom: *laughing* "Oh YES. I was out riding my bike and this construction worker! GOODNESS! I haven't seen anyone that handsome, oh my!"
Me: *stunned laughter* "mom!"
Mom : *continuing to laugh* "He had to be about 6'5", what a great body!! and his EYES!!! OH! I didn't think they made them that way anymore!!!!"
Me: "REALLY?!?!!? Mom!!!"
Mom: "Made my WHOLE DAY. EMMMMHMMMM, SO HANDSOME!!!"
Me: "Maybe I need to come bike riding with you soon............"
Mom: *laughing* "I knew YOU'D APPRECIATE it DH."

She's 70.
The epitome of "I'll quit lookin when I'd dead."

My Hair Apparent

I've told you all about my hair crisis recently. I am still not loving my style. I take that back, I love it immediately after my new stylist finishes it and then hate it the moment I fail in recreating it at home. What woman has not had this issue? Anyway, I have recently found a hair color that I like, a lot.  My natural color is dark ash blonde, aka, DISH WATER BLONDE. YUCK.

The color I discovered is this:

Dark Beige Blonde, or Sweet Latte.

 How can you not get behind a name like that? Once again, Target, you disappoint me. You don't have my color. WTF Target?? You keep doing this to me, make-up, hair color, other items, GONE, out of stock. Why do you love to torment little old me???

So I bought this instead:

Dark Natural Blonde or Almond Creme. Another great looking color, no?

Myself, I thought this is even a tad lighter in color, great for the coming summer, right???

Am I wrong? Let's do a side by side shall we?

No, I do not believe I am wrong, it IS LIGHTER.

So can someone please tell me why my hair is now THIS COLOR????

Medium Golden Brown aka Chestnut.

 How did this happen??????? I do not see the progression to darker, I do not. Maybe the wrong item was put in the wrong box, I don't know. But I can tell you, I DO NOT look good with dark hair. It pulls all the pink to the front in my skin which in turn makes me look old and pale. It is all wrong. Someone suggested I put in highlights, that scares me that I would end up with red highlights instead of blonde. Did I mention there are only 2 days left until we leave for the wedding Back East?

Um, yeah, now is NOT the time to be messing with my hair.  GRRRRRRRRRRRR