Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Cast of Characters

I will be working on this list

Wendy - My Mom

Peter - My Dad

The Prince - My Brother, he is seven years older than me.

Syko - My Oldest Sister, she is nine years older than me.

Zelle - My Next Oldest Sister, she is eight years older than me.

Celie - My Youngest Sister, she is 3 years and 8 months younger than me.

Cassandra - My Oldest Niece - she is The Prince's daughter, and twelve years younger than me.

Echo - My Next Oldest Niece - she is Syko's middle child, and fifteen years younger than me.

Pandora - My Youngest Niece - she is Syko's youngest child and sixteen years younger than me.

Falstaff - My Oldest Nephew - he is Syko's oldest child and fourteen years younger than me.

Horatio - My Next Oldest Nephew - he is Zelle's oldest child and twenty two years younger than me.

Caliban - he is Zelle's yougest child and twenty three years younger than me.

Diego - My Grand Nephew - he is Pandora's child, and thirty five years younger than me

Dora - My Grand Niece - she is Echo's child, and forty one years younger than me. 

Angelita - Celie's Daughter who passed away at birth in 1994.

Mon Petit Amour - My boy kitty.

Girly Kitty - My girl kitty. 

Garcia - Celie's kitty, who is a girl.

Cynic - Zelle's doggy, who is a girl

Dead Weight - Zelle's Ex-husband; Horatio and Caliban's Dad.

Flava Flav - Pandora's on/off  Significant Other, Diego's Dad.

Fiddy Diddy - Echo's Significant Other; Dora's Dad.

Lurch - Celie's Ex Significant Other, Angelita's Dad.

Italian Stallion - My Current Friendly Acquaintance, Former Love Interest from History, Like the Titanic. (My Early/Mid Twenties)

Colin Farrell - My Current Friendly Acquaintance, Former Love Interest from History, Like the Titanic.  (My Early Thirties)

    You're NOT Fat!

    I have been writing elsewhere, and communicating elsewhere for awhile. I will talk about it more later in this blog as I work through the 30 days thing, but here is something I wrote that someone asked me to publish here.

    The discussion was about people saying "you're not fat" to those of us who patently obviously are fat, or in cases like mine seriously freaking fat.

    Here's something that happened to me;

    One day at work I somehow managed to get cajoled into saying precisely why I was not romantically interested in a former coworker. This was all done in a girl talk super funny ha ha situation during which we were behaving incredibly irreverently and pretty much drawing and quartering all the men with which we were mutually acquainted as well as various and sundry notorious and/or famous men including our current and former presidents. I had been relatively quiet the whole time, as I am notoriously discreet. Now this particular co-worker was someone who I had considered a friend until he and I had a falling out. Additionally, he did actually have a pretty nice bod, and definitely a very nice tush. So, people were mystified as to why I had "absolutely no use for him" when he so obviously had a thing for me, and followed me around in the drooling puppy dog fashion.

    "I guess I'm just a stuck up bitch," I said.  I joked a bit more and then just spewed. "Well, for starters, that drooling puppy thing, only endearing in puppies, he's indiscreet, ..., ..., ..., and I don't like his teeth..."

    "Wow," it was said jokingly and lovingly, "you really are a stuck up bitch."

    "Told ya." I said facetiously

    "That is so mean."

    "Oh well, I said, I am entitled to like what I like." "Hell, I know I am a great catch, but that does not mean all men have the good sense to adore me." "Some men think I am too smart, some think I am too stupid, some think I am too ugly, some think I am too pretty, some think I talk too much, some think I am uncommunicative, some don't like my religious point of view, some don't like my political point of view, some don't like me because I am fat."

    "HEY, you're not fat, you're so pretty!"

    "Ah, I said, yes I am fat. It is just a descriptive work , like black, or white, or blond, or tall, it just describes a physical characteristic." "You guys love me, so you think fat is not a word for me." "That is because we all think fat = bad and/or ugly." "It doesn't, it just equals fat."


    Fat is not a bad word, it is a true word. I believe that when someone tells we who are fat that we are not, what they are saying is that you are not gross, you are not unacceptable, you are OK, you are worthwhile. Because most of us no matter our size have a lot of issues with fat, and think it is a horrible terrible thing to be. In our society fat is a very negative word. It is a bad thing to be, so when people say I am not fat, they are saying I am OK.

    Friday, October 22, 2010

    30 Days of Truth List

    Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself
    Day 02 → Something you love about yourself
    Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
    Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
    Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
    Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
    Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
    Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
    Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
    Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
    Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
    Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
    Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
    Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
    Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
    Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
    Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
    Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
    Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
    Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
    Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
    Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
    Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
    Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
    Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
    Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
    Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
    Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
    Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
    Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

    Thursday, October 21, 2010

    Knock, knock, knock, Housekeeping!

    Several months ago, I decided to let some of my friends and family know about this blog. I “unpublished” lot of stuff before I told them, I did not want to hurt anyone with my more evil thoughts. It seems like when you write like this, you are censored because you do not want to hurt people, or let people know some things about you. You do not want someone to latch onto a fleeting thought as gospel, or to hurriedly skip over the sacred secret of your heart.

    The other day I told one of my sisters I really regret telling people about my writing here since I pretty much stopped writing at all since then. She said, “start writing again somewhere else.” Well, I don’t wanna do that.

    Before I outed myself to my peeps, I was using names for them. I am pretty sure nobody would be upset at what I called them, except for two of my sisters. One, I actually call her what we all call her behind her back. But it is not nice, so I have to think of something else. The other, it is something I have called her in real life, it is not nice, but when I began to write this blog, it was the dominant feeling I had about her. I ended up shortening it, but, still, not nice. So I need to think of something better for them.

    I guess I also need to make up a cast of characters, so when I talk about people anybody who reads it knows who the hell I am talking about.

    Finally, in an effort to begin writing regularly again, I am going to jump the “30 Days of Truth” bandwagon, and start getting my writing muscles going again with that.

    P.S. The tongue thingy - well, the oral surgeon said it was a benign fibroma. So, nothing to worry about. I did manage to somehow pull out the stitches almost immediately when I fell asleep due to pain killers, but it was no big deal. My tongue looks way better now, I do not have this weirdo looking growth anymore. I am sure some people must have thought I had some freako STD. I was very self conscious about it, and am glad it is gone.

    Saturday, September 25, 2010


    For a long time I have had this weirdo thing on my toungue.

    My dentist thinks it is scar tissue from biting it somewhere along the line in one of the many fender benders I had during my reckless youth.

    Recently, my dentist and my doctor have not liked the looks of it. Me neither. It seemed to be getting bigger, and always be in the way. My list of things to be allergic to is increasing exponentially, and it seemed to swell, and itch, more than the rest of my tongue.

    So, I had it removed. Boy does this sucker hurt right now. It is very sore. I went and got the Tylenol with codene. Then I came home and ate mashed potatoes as instructed before taking some of the drugs. Then I had a nice little codene nap. I woke up having apparently either pulled out, or chewed out the stitches. Gross! So I stuffed some gauze in my drooly bloody mouth and left an after hours message for the oral surgeon because I of course slept through regular office hours.

    I am impressed he understood my message because I talk like I have a dick in my mouth right now. It looks OK, and the oral surgeon says not to worry, but it is sore and swollen. Plus, I can see the little unhealed holes from the stitches. Yeeeuck!

    On the upside, I have doctors instructions to eat ice cream, popscicles, and pudding.

    Wednesday, June 23, 2010


    Recently, it started to rain about fifteen minutes before I was supposed to leave work. This was no dainty drizzle, but a full on down pour. I hung out in the lobby with the last few remaining stragglers as we all decided to wait and see if it would let up long enough for us to run to our cars. It was a nice peaceful friendly chat at the end of the day.

    At last there was a break in the rain, and I took off my shoes and ran through the puddles to my car. I immediately laughed at myself for bothering to save the shoes since it has been a while since I had a decent pair. This home improvement stuff puts a major strain on all my other budgetary considerations. These were nothing but a five-dollar crap pair of shoes from the Evil Empire, my pet name for Wal-Mart. The jaunt through the puddles was very fun though, and I did not step on any of those ubiquitous little pebbles that always seem to find my feet.

    On the road at last, I turned up the tunes, and got going just in time for another wave of monsoon conditions. A few exits down the highway, the rain fell back down to a sprinkle. This time the sun also came out. It was gloriously bright. As I looked ahead of me at the surrounding traffic, the light mist, the wet road and the incongruously brilliant sunlight gave the effect of making all the cars around me look like they were gliding along on magic carpets made of rainbows.

    Saturday, June 5, 2010

    This is Normal?

    Well, for a while now, I have worked to have a "normal" life. I have carefully crafted a boring life of FarmVille, Lia Sophia parties, house fixing up projects, and generalized boringness. I have had enough excitement and drama for a few lifetimes.

    My doctors tell me that this normal stuff I am striving for is great, but a big adjustment in more ways then I imagined. I really wanted to just have a calm life free of screeching and screaming, and wackadooness. BUT, I spent so much of my life running on pure adrenaline, that I am kind of like an addict. I need to recover, and reset my brain chemistry, and my lifestyle, and my metabolism.

    The latest endeavor in my ongoing project to be healthier is learning to sleep. This is harder then changing jobs and careers. This is harder than doing an impressive and convincing impression of a mature responsible adult. This is harder than working on my family issues. This is harder than ending old friendships and forging new ones.

    I have had horrendously freakish sleeping habits as long as I can remember. I used to sleep walk my way into other people's beds during my childhood. I also never had a bedtime, or a wake up time. I kinda just went to sleep when I was tired, and woke up when it was time to wake up to go some place, though I frequently "forgot" to get up for school. As an adult, I stopped sleep walking, except for a brief stint following my parents’ deaths. I am told that I both talk a blue streak and laugh in my sleep these days.

    What I am trying to do is go to bed at the same time each night, STAY THE HELL ASLEEP, and wake up at the same time every morning. I have always been fine with the wake up. I am intermittently good with the go to bed part. However the whole people allegedly sleep all night thing eludes me. I wake up after about three hours, wide awake, and then do stuff, like laundry, clean the bathroom, write, update my Microsoft Money, brush the cat, give myself a pedicure, etc. I stay up a few hours then go back to sleep.

    I was worried because I had been sleeping only three or fours hours a night for so long. I knew I needed to sleep more. My doctors have told me I need to Freaking sleep already dammit. But now I feel like I sleep too much but am always tired. This waking up and doing stuff like a whirling dervish in the middle of the night seems to be the problem.

    My doctor says I am not getting REM sleep. Technically, I am not sleeping too much. If you add up all the time I am actually asleep, it is the low normal range of time people should sleep. Because I am not sleeping for long period of time, I am never getting that deep restful rejuvenating make you not FEEL tired sleep.

    So, my doctor has given me a month to get my sleep shit together, and learn to sleep through the night, or Da, da, da duuum, sleeping pills.

    Sunday, May 30, 2010


    Well, that everyday thing worked out well, huh? It was one hell of a week on every front. I am just waking up from a migraine. Looks like maybe I finally found one that makes them go away. I wish I could find one that works AND does not put me to sleep. But I do not feel all groggy and out of it like I have with other meds I have tried, so this might be a worthy solution.

    Thursday, May 27, 2010


    Ninety five degrees today! I love this beautiful weather, and am so looking forward to seeing how the summer unfolds.

    I am paranoid, as are many of my co-workers, that I will lose my job any day now, but whatever happens, I will be OK. How could anyone be miserable in the sunshine?

    I am going to write something, anything, every day now. I need to stretch my writing muscles.