tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-301287082011-11-14T17:53:06.956Z~I suffer from an innate inability to suffer fools gladly~~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.comBlogger811100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-50714245276195394942011-10-31T13:21:00.002Z2011-10-31T13:21:54.558Z

Holy Crap on a stick people!  I just weighed myself for the first time in awhile.  (I stopped when I had to stop Medifast.)  I have lost more weight, and I am now less than I weighed at the lowest weight I can remember from high school, AND less than 200 lbs!  Holy Shit!

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-41603823408532567242011-10-02T05:15:00.001Z2011-10-02T05:18:14.961Z

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was send a message to some of my family and friends, literally before I even got out of bed. This is most of what I said; I need to talk, too much for one person right now.  I just woke up with my heat racing. I had hoped some sleep would help. But it has not.  I am just utterly terrified. I have no idea what to do next.  I have been

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-67504737323144674122011-01-21T20:09:00.001Z2011-01-21T20:14:08.224Z

I have had a contractor here working on my kitchen.  He is doing good work, but he is an ass.  I have taken to referring to him as Princess Sunshine.  I have had so much fun with him woo boy!  The second day he was here, he showed up two hours late, as he did the first day.  When I mentioned this to him, he said, very insolently, and loudly, in my own damn house "So!"  He then told me that

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1162084377018417412011-01-02T02:27:00.001Z2011-01-02T02:31:59.659Z

Today I was thinking about a dog my family had. We got him, I think, when I was nineteen. He was a really cool dog, a pure bred sheepdog that we got from the dog pound. He had a tattoo on the roof of his mouth and everything. The day I had to put him to sleep was one of the most difficult in my life. I lay down on the floor of the vet’s office, crying uncontrollably, and holding him while he died

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-83244204212310010452011-01-02T02:19:00.000Z2011-01-02T02:19:38.025Z

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself I have been thinking forever about how to articulate this, and have come up empty, so here goes nothing.  I am ubiquitously “too sensitive” and it causes me innumerable woe in the world of work.  My last job was really hard for me, but I learned a lot about dealing with conflict and difficult people constructively, and to try not to take it all so

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-9698520211081519702010-11-16T18:03:00.002Z2010-11-16T18:07:08.237Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-65731813701127429172010-11-16T17:11:00.000Z2010-11-16T17:11:27.414Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-13731399662648154612010-10-22T04:26:00.002Z2010-10-22T04:26:55.248Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-55039548759668342842010-10-21T04:08:00.001Z2010-10-21T04:19:17.817Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-82842050514002473242010-09-25T02:53:00.001Z2010-09-25T15:57:06.501Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-85376538118577146612010-06-23T01:07:00.001Z2010-06-23T01:08:50.503Z

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,

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-11698674654193815142010-06-05T16:20:00.000Z2010-06-05T16:20:39.088Z

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

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-26467977438472722932010-05-30T07:53:00.000Z2010-05-30T07:53:30.400Z

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.

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-53194447317401835862010-05-27T01:29:00.000Z2010-05-27T01:29:03.761Z

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. TTFN

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-11134773990246076322009-07-07T06:37:00.001Z2009-07-07T06:39:26.628Z

My cat, Mon Petit Amour, has a kitty, Girly Kitty, who is not the sharpest knife in the furry drawer. This cat is just flat out not wired right.She takes running leaps at door frames, and then hangs upside down from them, all the while screaming like her non existent balls are in a vice.She jumps in the shower with me and then sits there and tries to lick the water off her fur while trying to

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-32166199181376155652009-07-06T01:22:00.001Z2009-07-06T01:24:07.579Z

Greetings Royal Internet People! The urge to write has hit me, so here I am, do with me what you will.I feel like winter is just ending, it was too cold for too long, and then it rained, and rained, and then rained some more. It has been miserable. People are on edge and testy. For months I was sick with one thing after another. Nothing life threatening, just did not feel well, and spent a lot of

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-4222003364127318442009-01-03T04:15:00.004Z2009-12-13T00:31:23.494Z

I have a very bad habit of becoming quite the little hermit when things in my life are not going as I had hoped. This results in me not having a lot of contact with the people in my life for long periods of time at different points in my life.Somewhere along the line it has occurred to me that I am not in charge of keeping in touch. It is a new thing for me actually. I think in any relationship

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-54138987114503887942009-01-02T07:37:00.004Z2009-12-13T00:36:20.801Z

2008 was a hell of a year. I learned a lot. I grew a lot. I made a lot of changes.At the beginning of 2008 I made some resolutions. This year, as 2009 dawns, resolutions, we don’t need no stinking resolutions.Here’s how 2008’s resolutions panned out.Lay off the soda. I will stop drinking so much soda, and I will not start drinking too much juice or chocolate milk instead. --- Done, done, and done

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-90543751209983510852008-11-10T02:17:00.000Z2008-11-10T02:42:10.834Z

Thanks to spending so much time being an unemployed loser in my recent past, I applied for and received approval for a home improvement loan program administered by my city. I applied almost a year ago, and finally it got to be my turn on the list. I am excited to get more large projects done around my house.Unfortunately, I am apprehensive about having contractors in my house again. It drives me

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-77136568753972579142008-10-28T02:09:00.003Z2009-12-13T00:42:21.084Z

At the time my Mom and Dad ingeniously became simultaneously terminally ill, I was working full time, going to school full time, and had been happily living on my own for years, in a near freakishly clean little apartment that was flooded with sunlight and surrounded by flowers, beautiful water views, and all kinds of nice people and their pets I enjoyed seeing everyday. Like a Tale of Two Cities

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-50917639507969242982008-06-25T02:11:00.002Z2008-06-25T02:16:24.685Z

I had a pretty good morning. I was up earlier than usual, so I unloaded the dishwasher, did a couple loads of laundry, played with my kitties, and even made myself real food for breakfast. I was feeling a little nauseous, but I tend to feel icky when I am worried and I have a lot of family stuff on my mind. So, I thought nothing of the slight flutter in my tummy.Eventually, I got around to taking

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-90202386529913401862008-03-08T08:52:00.003Z2008-03-08T10:10:17.381Z

Well, I did inot forget about spewing my inner monlogue online, I have just been very busy.I have been writing every day still, but mostly stuff I had to write for one reason or another, or back and forth with friends and family. I also wrote some truly masterful thank you notes to people I met with in the course of my job search. I decided I do not want to do taxes anymore, and it is ok I do not

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-74255699853470365232008-02-02T13:50:00.000Z2008-02-02T13:51:30.700Z

As I started to write, I realized the thing about Girl Scouts is going to be a really long story, and it is going to take me a long time to write, and I am probably going to get mad, and cry, and stop writing a lot. I will just keep posting stuff and then post the stuff about my Mom when I am ready. This is a good step for me. In the past, I would just stop writing other stuff until I finished

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-42814607434510520982008-01-30T14:55:00.000Z2008-01-30T15:14:44.428Z

Hey, hey, hey. I am too swamped to write now, but am pasting in part of a comment I wrote at Wide Lawns because I think it is worth noting that if a little girl or her pushy parents hit you up to buy Girl Scout cookies, there is an altruistic option. The story SNM @ Wide Lawns wrote reminded me of my own relationship with my Mom in relation to Girl Scouts. My Mom totally thought Girl Scouts were

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-32703958837518932912008-01-29T06:45:00.001Z2010-01-17T20:08:42.337Z

Lying on my couch, my face pressed against the back of the couch, a pillow over my face, on top of the heating pad, on top of the warm damp cloth of my face, I ponder the level of whininess I have achieved. Snivel, snivel, whine, snuffle, I had crap I wanted to do today. I do not have time to have the headache from hell. Who the fuck does my doctor think he is going on vacation? What does he

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-41135610460657206232008-01-21T02:58:00.005Z2009-12-13T01:05:41.755Z

For I Have Sinned.God, as you know, it has been nearly twenty-four years since my last confession. You know this is because;1) I am still performing the penance the priest gave me the last time I went.2) You know I decided a long time ago that I do not need anybody to intercede with you when I want to reflect on my sins.3) You know I am not sorry for most of the stuff the church thinks I should

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-43259084119024328242008-01-15T05:04:00.000Z2008-01-15T05:08:38.770Z

I am not 25, tall, thin, blonde, or compliant. This apparently makes my chances of finding a man I take seriously and who takes me seriously slim to none. To that end, I succumbed to one of the bazillion commercials for eHarmony, and filled out the personality questionnaire.After I signed up, I started communicating for free. That went all right for the most part. I decided to actually sign up

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-34951044698491752272008-01-07T18:02:00.001Z2009-12-13T01:10:55.882Z

I was just over at Plains Feminist and am posting my political and literary commentary here as well as adding some more blah blah.In an effort to continue my status as an anti-social misfit I watched the debates Saturday night. I was pleasantly surprised to hear some actual intelligent answers from both parties. We seriously need a huge change in this country. I have not decided whom I want to

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-81082923425780293162007-11-11T05:44:00.000Z2007-11-11T05:47:06.555Z

Like all cancer survivors, my Dad had to go for regular check ups after he had prostate cancer in 1998. He was notoriously reluctant to go the urologist. So, when the little reminder post card came, I called up and made the appointment, then I went and talked to my Mom.Me: Mom, Daddy has to go to the guy gynecologist for his check up. I am going to schedule the geezer van to pick him up. Can you

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-27986604305413893312007-09-15T08:34:00.004Z2010-01-17T20:39:22.975Z

Through the process of being a home owner of a fixer upper that also was my childhood home, where things were not so good for a lot of my childhood, I have learned a lot. I have always been a neat freak, but I have had to learn some heavy duty cleaning type stuff. I have become an expert at dumpster rental. I have learned about clearing brush. I own and know how to use probably as many tools as

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-13884829636862840272007-09-05T19:47:00.001Z2010-01-17T20:56:28.474Z

A day in my life... My dermatologist has me use some stuff on my face at night to help deal with allergies. Somehow, as I slept I managed to get some in my right eye, I think. When I woke up, miraculously NOT at 4:20, my eye was stingy and I had the skin gunk all caked sexily in the corner of my eye. That’s how I get all my men, by the way. So I got up and took a shower, and put on my

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-28908443670113493192007-08-29T23:25:00.000Z2007-08-29T23:28:50.935Z

Sometimes I am just so disappointed.I want to believe as a rule that human beings recognize occasions and rise to them.Today makes me sad because we have the anniversary of an occasion to which we all rose, like 9/11, like the bombing in Oklahoma, like the Indonesian Tsunami, like so many things that are thrown at our feet by a constant barrage of sound bytes, and news clips perpetuated

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-79994459729209819792007-08-24T10:03:00.000Z2007-08-24T10:06:09.736Z

This morning once again, I am up at O’dark thirty. I cannot find the elusive Unisom anywhere. I think maybe it is one of those drugs the pharmacy holds now, you know like the Sudafed. Perhaps there is some sort of street drug one can fabricate using the Unisom as well. As I sat on the edge of my bathtub shaving my legs, yes shaving my legs, let it not be said that I do not use my time wisely, I

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-8145550114930658192007-08-22T22:02:00.002Z2010-01-17T21:05:03.157Z

For awhile now, I have been profoundly tired and unable to sleep. I fall asleep for a short while, just enough to take the edge off the sheer exhaustion. Then I cannot sleep anymore. I am too old for this shit. I want to sleep at night, all night, like normal people. Over the weekend I saw some of my close friends and got along loving lecture about not worrying about other people, and who gives a

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-30900786653444533072007-08-20T23:13:00.002Z2010-01-17T21:13:31.345Z

Seriously, what is the deal with pervy old farts? Do I have "talk dirty to me you salacious old fuck" tattooed on my forehead or what? I have long history, some of which my friends misguidedly find funny, with dirty old men bothering me. It has not changed any as I have aged; the pervs have just gotten older. One of my most creepy experiences was when I went to see Silence of the Lambs with

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-49062550071731322232007-08-17T17:41:00.000Z2008-12-09T20:37:09.635Z

Life is good.I can indeed sit on the beach with my computer, a nice cool overpriced coffee based drink at my side, and watch the waves, and sailboats, and people, and the coming weather on the horizon over the top of my laptop screen while I write.

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-40808162274443472342007-08-15T21:05:00.000Z2007-08-24T09:33:22.738Z

Crapsaplenty! Man, I was all set to embark on my new and improved frugal life of taking mooching to new heights, when I went to Starbucks today. Apparently, the Internet access is freely available, not free. What kinda freaking scam is that? Geez, you’d think for $50.00 a cup for the coffee, there would be some perks. Ha, ha, perks, get it? Hee, hee, hee.So apparently, I am going to be spending a

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-66579374090453565302007-08-12T22:16:00.001Z2007-08-24T09:45:50.696Z

After much dissatisfaction with my cable modem, and being chained to my desk in my house, I have dumped the cable company and taken a step into the current millennium.I bought a laptop, and with the help of some very nice computer geek little boys at the computer store, and every place I have tried using it, I have figured out how to use it, and get on line with it. I am paranoid about logging on

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-87967892220023242952007-07-23T00:25:00.000Z2007-07-23T01:13:34.732Z

I've been doing a whole fat lot of none of the stuff I should be doing for awhile. I have not gotten a whole hell of a lot done on my house. I need to find a second job, or a really intensely alluring new full time one that is good enough to pull me away from the job I have now. I need to stop being such a stuck up bitch and just let some poor schmuck get to know me already dammit. I really need

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-56980311069023031172007-07-18T02:00:00.000Z2007-07-18T02:01:32.902Z

Today kinda sucked. I had an upsetting experience at work today. We took the Mutt Doggy to the Canine Oncologist. When I stopped to gas up my car, some doofy looking middle aged runty dorks in a Subaru laughed at me. I was trying to straighten out my shorts that I had somehow managed to not only get all twisted up and capped off with a self inflicted wedgie. Little crap like that kills me when I

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-40072929034806999602007-06-10T21:00:00.001Z2007-06-10T21:01:56.879Z

It has just occurred to me how funny it is that there is such a thing as the Penthouse fantasy forum, but no such thing as a reality forum. Perhaps if men spent less time honing their writing skills and more honing their social skills, they would be too busy to fantasize.Just a thought...

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-31945823412121472562007-06-03T16:02:00.000Z2007-06-03T16:09:05.666Z

I, for one, greatly welcomed the advent of self-service checkouts in supermarkets. While I vividly remember being a hormonally motivated 16 your old myself, it was often annoying, to say the least, to wait for the bagger and the checker to tear themselves away from each other long enough to ring up and pack my stuff. With a couple exceptions, it has really speeded up my egress from the grocery

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-23559473447921698782007-05-28T22:09:00.000Z2007-05-28T23:11:33.945Z

As I’ve said previously, I have a lot of issues with religion in general, and mine in particular. Having been raised CATH-O-LIC, suffering issues is pretty much par for the course.Nonetheless, I like to go to church, even though I do not go to communion, or say that I believe in "one holy Catholic and apostolic church" and often have a sinking feeling I am the only asshole actually really

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-58526161667828749712007-05-13T22:00:00.001Z2010-01-17T21:38:25.594Z

Mostly, I love my Mom and Dad, and they died about three years ago, and that sucks, but I am a grown up, and shit happens and in the scheme of things, when it comes to the death of a loved one, the fact your parents will die is a pretty safe bet in life. Sometimes I remember things about them that infuriated me about them. Sometimes I remember things that I loved about them. When I catch myself

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-84588041504427978902007-05-10T02:09:00.000Z2007-05-10T02:20:07.651Z

I have a personal problem. I’m a picky bitch. No, that is not the problem, not for me anyway. See; I’m what I call a put up or shut up kinda person. I know what I like, I know what I want, and I do not generally settle for anything other than what I want. There are a lot of things that I prefer. I am quite ding dang opinionated about what I want, and why I want it. I buy the local skim milk in

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-81063939103073672272007-05-08T02:50:00.000Z2007-05-08T02:51:28.699Z

The world is a very different place in a lot of ways from when I was growing up. Some things are still the same too. For families like mine there are more resources to deal with the overwhelming problems. It is, to a certain extent, socially acceptable to ask for help now. And, there is a lot more help to get. It seems to me, particularly with the advent of the Internet as a daily presence in

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1170670187675123212007-02-05T10:07:00.006Z2010-01-17T22:05:12.930Z

The other night I could not sleep, I was up, and hyper, and my mind was racing. I was thinking a lot, about a lot. For some reason, I was thinking about an incident with my Dad a few months before he died. We had for a few years had issues with him driving. The prior summer, we had him tested, and he was given the green light to continue driving. Apparently, it was the professional opinion of the

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1170512054013811142007-02-03T14:09:00.000Z2007-05-03T11:42:52.640Z

I have just learned there is actually a taste sensation more hideous than taking a sip of orange juice after just brushing your teeth, and that is taking a sip of Stop & Shop diet raspberry ginger ale, which I love, with a piece of Juicy Fruit gum, which I love, in your mouth. This is not two great tastes that taste great together, not the new peanut butter and jelly, not great tasting and less

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1169948065352099412007-01-28T00:36:00.003Z2010-01-17T22:13:28.013Z

I had a far less than stellar high school career. My Mom was very fond, for some perverse reason I still do not grasp, of telling people and reminding me that I graduated something like 255 out of 256 people in my class. This is only a slight exaggeration. My Mom sometimes said stuff I thought she said just to be mean. I also got an academic achievement scholarship to college because I blew the

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1169693500249492422007-01-25T02:47:00.001Z2010-01-17T22:17:30.702Z

I’ve been feeling stingy about writing lately. I just have not felt like sharing with the class. When I started to write this blog, it was a new thing for me to write about my feelings. I have never kept a journal, or had a diary that was dear. I needed to blow off a lot of steam about my family, and to somehow relive the stress of refraining from slapping the living shit out of people who

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1167679777194917912007-01-01T19:28:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:02:52.822Z

Humility is not my strong suit. I’m not sure exactly how I got to be so sure of myself, and so not repentant about it to boot. Sometimes I wish I could cultivate a little bit of humility. I tend to intimidate people who are not as comfortable in their skin as I am in mine. I am not lacking in modesty. I do not condescend unprovoked. I do not beat people metaphorically or literally over the head

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1167252427565280732006-12-27T20:45:00.001Z2010-01-17T23:55:20.468Z

Christmas went much better than I expected. Even though I have endeavored to change things in my life, the old anxieties creep in. When it comes to the holidays I have learned a few things. The people I love know I love them. I do not have to see them on actual Christmas day, buy them gifts they do not want with money I do not have, ply them with calories and food they do not need, or send them

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1166935784158290742006-12-24T04:48:00.001Z2010-01-18T00:04:23.221Z

If you have read anything I have written you know a little bit about how I feel or felt about some really crappy stuff in my life. You also know that is not all there is to it. I have some very good memories of my family as well. As with most families similarly afflicted as mine, many of the good and bad memories are inexorably linked. Christmas when I was a child was nice in a lot of ways. We

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1166775473375647712006-12-22T08:17:00.002Z2010-01-18T00:13:13.902Z

When my parents died they had two dogs. Both dogs were acquired from dire circumstances, both are female, both came with a name that is a people name, you know like Pauline, as opposed to Patches, and both have names that start with the same letter. Pretty freaky, huh? One is a Bichon Frise, the other, a mixed breed, has a lab looking kind of head, and a Corgi looking kind of body. The mutt dog

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1166482464630916892006-12-18T22:37:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:17:23.349Z

Here is a picture I took Saturday of Mon Petit Amour, on the left, and his new little sister, Girly Kitty.She is five months old now, and settling in very well. I have had her almost three weeks, and I am so happy to have her. As with all the pets I have gotten since I became an adult, I adopted her from the animal shelter. I have wanted to find a companion for Mon Petit Amour for quite some

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1164728079711508272006-11-28T15:28:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:22:13.962Z

Once upon a time, long, long ago... Ok, so it was last May, after I was blessedly laid, layed, whatever, off. I have always been mighty sucklicious at the whole lay lie thing, get over it if I am wrong. I was looking on Monster.com to try to decide if I wanted to stay in my field, do something else, get a boob job and some lipo and become a trophy wife, you know, exploring my options. They have

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1163928813256318792006-11-19T09:28:00.004Z2010-01-04T00:45:51.432Z

One of the hardest things to deal with for my family has been the behavior of my oldest sister. She has been the source of a lot of pain for all of us. I am not sure exactly what her problem is in a lot ways. I know she suffered some brain damage as a result of a birth defect that was not corrected in a timely fashion, mainly because medical science had not yet discovered it. Her doctor, who took

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1163655568207595382006-11-16T05:37:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:25:04.639Z

I’ve been very busy with family stuff the past few days. There is quite a lot going on, and I am doing my best not to "fix" everything. My family is never concerned if they are asking too much of me, or if they are a burden, or if they are annoying me, or taking advantage of me. Poopie heads. Also, I had to have an endoscopy yesterday, and I feel like I have internal road rash because my doctor

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1163378508337068262006-11-13T00:40:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:25:29.062Z

Church is an immense presence in my family. I, like most Roman Catholics, have a lot of issues with the Church. Some of them are ethical, some are personal, and some are crises of faith within myself. In our town there are four Roman Catholic churches, one downtown, one in the boonies, one on the west side shoreline and one on the east side shoreline. I’ve been to all of them lots of times.The

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1163122279939190962006-11-10T01:10:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:25:41.813Z

While I have been settling into being the proud owner of a construction site, I have been on an unplanned and much needed hiatus from working. I had a job where I was unhappy and was fortunate enough to be laid off a few months ago. I am incredibly, terrifyingly good at what I do for a living. I am too smart for my own good, and understand too much. There really was not enough for me to do at my

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1162908137823145952006-11-07T13:47:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:03:14.033Z

Please vote today. There are people fighting and killing and dying for us. We owe it to them to vote.Less than one hundred years ago, in 1920, an Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America was passed that granted women the right to vote. We owe it to all the women who could not vote, and who fought for that right, to vote.Less than fifty years ago, in 1964, an Amendment to the

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1162818595943783862006-11-06T13:09:00.001Z2010-01-04T01:06:11.766Z

So, me and the shrink obviously had a lot to talk about. When I arrived the first day she said, "Why are you here?" I said, "I have a lot of anxiety. I hate my new job. I crashed my car. My sisters are bitches. I am really pissed off at my parents for stuff I thought I had long since overcome. I am tired. I thought I was a grown up until my parents died. I have a lot of infuriating things and

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1162780848282822752006-11-06T02:38:00.001Z2010-01-04T01:01:42.073Z

It has certainly been a long road from wanting to somehow get in the witness protection program to owning the house I grew up in. Sometimes I am not sure how I got here. I vividly remember the day I signed the paperwork at my closing six months ago. I looked across the table at my lawyer, who it turns out is one of the most truly kind and nurturing people I have ever met and said "I must have a

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1162549718450731842006-11-03T10:24:00.001Z2010-01-04T00:56:33.938Z

Do It Yourself home improvement is not for pussies. Being crazy helps. A life long failure to think inside the box, coupled with a complete disdain for authority and an innate inability to suffer fools gladly really come in handy too. My house, or as I like to call it, my construction site, is the house I grew up in. The decision to purchase the house was not made lightly. Before my parents

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1161790221156097762006-10-25T15:29:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:30:52.567Z

Regarding the Presidential News Conference Today 10/25/06Sweet blessed Jesus, I cannot believe this man is the "leader of the free world." It is funny how he keeps saying ideology like he knows what it means. I feel so terrified that this man does not seem to be cognizant of the fact that the American ideology is not acceptable to a lot of people in the world. The apparent need of this

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1161639125775943392006-10-23T21:19:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:31:06.510Z

This is mon petit amour... "I don't care if you're tired, I'm busy hogging the bed and watching TV."My little furry hanging out in my bed, being irresistibly cute and kitty like. "What do you mean I can't help you make apple pie?" "How come you have time to make apple pie anyway? Aren't' you supposed to be renovating this house? It looks like you've got a lot of work to do in here Mom. "Here's

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1161040145395592192006-10-16T23:06:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:29:26.902Z

As far as I know, as a Catholic, I am to believe that "through the miracle of the mass, the bread and the wine substantially are transformed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ." I don’t buy this. Haven’t for a long time. Not sure why. Trying to figure it out. I went to church yesterday just to go to church for the first time in years. I liked it. It was fun to see all the people I know who

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160871905770250282006-10-15T00:22:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:29:10.607Z

The neighbors across the street have known me my whole life. They were helpful in every way my parents would allow as things became more difficult for us all and have been very kind and helpful since my parents died. One of their favorite things to do is to give us fresh vegetables and fruit they grow. Today they gave me a huge bag of apples that have me thinking about my Mom who made really good

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160555368732653682006-10-11T08:27:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:28:33.047Z

I usually have one of three reactions to porn; boredom, revulsion, or amusement. I really like the shoes though.

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160411194737536232006-10-09T15:53:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:28:19.217Z

There is cat fur all over everything I own. I have no idea why my cat is not bald with all the fur he leaves all over my stuff. I love him very much. Unavoidably he will someday pass into the great catnip field in the sky, when this happens, I will probably need sedation. I have to leave him home alone all day when I am working. I am afraid he is lonely. I wish I could bring him to work with me.

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160292880569040362006-10-08T07:31:00.002Z2008-06-25T00:47:12.095Z

There are very few people in this world who I truly consider to be my friend, and whose friend I consider myself to be. I know a lot of nice people. A lot of people think well of me. But there are those few people who really know me, and love me. These are the people who stayed up all night with me when my parents died. They are who came to the funeral home with me to make arrangements. They are

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160208501329368272006-10-07T08:04:00.003Z2010-01-04T00:33:49.349Z

Over the years, I had of course voiced many times the whole thing about how my birthday sucked and why to my parents, family, friends, strangers on the bus, my cat, the family dog, and any other poor schmuck who happened to somehow get on the topic with me. Truly, I am an asshole about this. So, after my thirty fourth birthday, and a lifetime of my parents forgetting my birthday, forgetting when

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1160115814423495182006-10-06T03:41:00.002Z2008-06-25T00:43:18.494Z

As I got older there were things about my birthday that sucked. My family insisting I spend time with them, then being late to show, and being assholes when they got there. Also, buying me gifts that in the midst of all the emotional angst I felt about the occasion felt as if they had never even met me. Seriously what the fuck were they thinking? Did they ever listen when I talked? In my family

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1159961479263402172006-10-04T11:26:00.003Z2010-01-04T00:30:23.975Z

My birthday comes around once a year, God willing, just like everyone else. I have a lot of feelings about it. Most of them are neurotic, I think. Some of it stems from my childhood, but I also know some of it has to do with things I have done and/or tolerated since I have become an alleged adult. Being a Virgo, I’m going to be free and clear of any raging birthday related anxiety for several

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1159504484631153192006-09-29T04:21:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:27:25.521Z

I have several nieces and nephews. Most of them are grown adults. One is married. Another is a parent. I took care of most them very often as they were growing up. Lots of my friends have kids. I like most of the kids most of the time. I'm not their parents so I do not have to pretend they are perfect little angels, and not sometimes annoying little shits. It is pretty neat to watch them turn

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1159191184838340122006-09-25T13:06:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:25:18.572Z

Whoa, I was one miserable puppy for the past week. I am allergic to lots of stuff. Most of which I have built up a tolerance for, or like so much, I happily suffer, like my cat, and shrimp, and milk. Other stuff is not worth the trouble like red wine, some antibiotics, and cashmere sweaters. Whenever there is a change in the weather, I get stuffy. Circumstances converged last Monday to give me

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1158497730196888512006-09-17T12:50:00.000Z2007-05-03T12:03:04.509Z

I decided to try to meet somebody on Craigslist. Big mistake. I should have tried the local crack house instead. Here are some examples of the respondents to my ad on craigslist:The guy whose e-mail name was extremely suggestive of a sexual proclivity I do not endeavor to explore. But the funny thing is he was offended I was not interested, and told me I was a freak! The men who will be divorced

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1158199436377825192006-09-14T01:20:00.000Z2007-05-03T11:45:48.463Z

I have a Magic 8 Ball. I refer to it as the executive decision making device, mostly because it pisses people who take themselves too seriously off immensely. Picture of Magic Ball 8 from Wikipedia. I ask the magic 8 ball all kinds of stuff. Will I ever meet somebody I want to marry? (You may rely on it.) Should I change careers? (Signs point to yes.) Is this a good plumber? (Yes definitely.)

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1157936090384638492006-09-11T00:40:00.000Z2007-05-03T11:45:35.836Z

I am biting the bullet and beginning this blog to get my writing muscles back in shape. I am not sure what I will write about. I don't think I will have a theme. I think I will probably just write about whatever happens to be on my mind at the time I decide to write. I have never kept a journal, so this is a new type of thing for me. I realized I have spent a lot of time this summer writing

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1151798947203583822006-07-02T00:07:00.000Z2007-05-03T11:45:15.216Z

Sean Connery and Lana Wood in "Diamonds are Forever"

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128708.post-1151084418181283202006-06-23T17:37:00.000Z2007-05-03T11:44:57.461Z

"The Scream" by Edvard Munch

~*~Esmerelda~*~http://www.blogger.com/profile/13654889241583463998noreply@blogger.com0