The Legend of X

Honkey Dorey

2010-09-24T19:52:00.000-04:00

Gym Oblivion

2010-08-09T20:47:00.003-04:00

For Realz.

People lose all common sense when they step into a gym. Or wait, no, I take that back. And no offense here, but GUYS lose common sense when they step into a gym. I swear to god that as soon as they pass through those doors, they stand a little more straight, their chests swell, and their brains fall on the floor.

At least this is the case at my gym.

Dudes wander around the gym floor with one of two earphones hanging out. Half listening to what I assume is a self-help book on tape. Hat backwards. One eye on the mirror. One hand on their pectoral. Firm enough?

I admit. Some dudes really push themselves. I've seen some impressive workouts taking place while I whisk around doing my business. There's a lot of grunting. A lot of slamming of the weights. But then between sets, they find a buddy. Then the two of them take up 2 machines while they talk. About some game last night, or about local politics. or women. Once, I heard two dudes talking about breast feeding.

Then they wander. Slowly from machine to machine. There is no real destination planned, so if you get behind one of 'em, you're fucked. Especially if you're eyeballing the machine he's kind of, sort of facing, but not really moving toward. Today this is what happened to me. I was stuck behind a guy fixing his iPod. He was walking slowly, but blocking my route to the machine I was planning for my next set. I wasn't sure if he wanted to use it. He stopped. fiddled. Walked two steps toward it. Stopped. Faced it. And then wandered off again.

If he didn't hear me call him a fucking tool, he's lucky.

THEN, there was this other guy! I was at this machine where you pull these straps down and do ab crunches. But like there is this garbage can/paper towel/spray bottle station right in front of this machine. So I'm waiting patiently for him to wipe himself down so that I don't crunch right in to his ass...and you'd think that common courtesy would advise him that there's this chick behind him waiting to do a set.

But no. And no to all of the other people who wander aimlessly around the gym.

As a disclaimer, there have been a few girls who have pissed me off. But usually only because they decide to pop down next to the bike I'm on and stretch. And then I'm all self-conscious about the fact that I'm breathing heavy and there's this chick in downward dog next to me on the floor by the garbage can, and I can see down her shirt if I look...

I can't lie though, I love the place.

X.

Homeward Bound

2010-08-05T20:05:00.004-04:00

sonovabitch.

I'm going to do it.

I.....will......blog.

And for crying out loud. I love to write, I love when people read what I write. What the fuck am I wasting my time with? Facebook? Give. Me. a. Break.

Moving on.

The last time I blogged I hadn't sold my condo yet. I hadn't become a part-time gym rat. I hadn't visited Foo N Family in Tennessee. The latter of which became the highlight of my summer. We have so many fun stories that we keep re-hashing.

Stories of the kids.
Stories from when Foo was pregnant...
We had the pool. Spongebob. Pizza. Furniture Shopping. House Hunting. Matt's wise advise on dogs, working out, and life in general. And starbucks. Who can forget the 14 visits to starbucks in 2 days? I had a blast. And really really really wish we lived closer to Foo so she could be one of the girls!!

Though I do want to add that I'm having recurring nightmares about the roadtrip home. It was a dooooozy. Hindsight is 20/20, and we really should have stopped in Virginia, after the 3 Li'l Pigs Barbeque (which was amazing by the way--I mean the iced tea and french fries were, I guess the bbq wasn't so great) and stayed the night. We should have, could have, would have. But we didn't. We kept trekking. When we stopped for BBQ we had been driving for 8 hours. We wouldn't drop Sabrina off on her doorstep for another 12 hours. In my dreams, we just keep driving and never make it home. OR I promise the girls we'll stay over somewhere. But I would do it again, in a heart beat. I'd never seen West Virginia or Kentucky, or Tennessee for that matter. I love the south.

I built a love/hate relationship with the Garmin I bought the day we left. I had to force it to take me through the mountains instead of straight down 95. Fucking Satanic Garmin. At one point, to avoid an illegal Uturn, it had us take a back ass road in West Virginia. One we thought we'd never return from. That was fun....I mean scary as shit.

The other usefulness of the Garmin is that you can type in 'Starbucks' and it will give you the 15 locations near you. We utilized that. We also tried to find ice cream using this thing. At one of the stops the first place the Garmin sent us didn't exist. We wound up in some low income housing development looking at a grouping of mailboxes and a woman on the stairs supervising her small child with a droopy diaper in a pool. NO ice cream.

The second place it sent us looked like it had potential, until we drove closer and it said "Proudly serving Hershey's ice cream." Sabrina and I said, in unison "FUCK THAT!"

The 3rd Place the Garmin gave us was called "(something) Ice Cream Factory" and we thought that might be an option. Until we drove by, and it really was an ice cream factory. Mother Father!

OH well, we stopped at a Sheetz and made our own milkshakes. Mine was great. Melanie and Sabrina got some sort of peanutbutter cup mess that tasted like the back side of a potbellied pig.

Just saying...

the highlight of that Sheetz stop was the potato chips.

P.S. Why the fuck doesn't CT have Sheetz?

By 11:30 that night I was pretty sure that if I didn't pull over, I was going to put us in a ditch. So, since Melanie has the highway onset narcolepsy, I had her drive. Wait, I know what you're thinking. She doesn't really sleep when she's driving--just when she's a passenger. And since she'd been a passenger for a good chunk of the day, she'd manage to get in at least 8 hours of sleep while Sabrina and I took pictures of everything and compared biceps.

Mel took over. Sabrina, still in the passenger seat-- passed out. I spread out in the backseat with my binky (or what some would call Sabrina's Pashmina) and slept on and off for 4 hours. I awoke once to go pee in a random gas station with like 12 jamaican guys in it. And awoke a second time in Hartford.

Mel and I crawled in to bed at about 5 am......

Best. Trip. EVER!

The other stuff in my life. Dull. But if I can muster it, I'm going to try to get myself back on track so as to keep you abreast of my daily musings. It just feels right!

X.

A letter to Satan.

2010-02-08T19:48:00.004-05:00

Dear Cromwell Walmart,

I love you and I hate you. I love how close you are to my front door. I love how inexpensive your English Muffins, cereal, stupid yogurt, and underwear are. I love that i can shop for underwear, cereal and motor oil in the same store.

I hate you because your parking lot is fucking stupid. I shouldn't have to go around the entire lot to get onto the street. I should be able to go left out of the lot where you tell me not to go left. I hate that if I'm walking in behind a black woman, the black greeter will greet HER, but look away uncomfortably like fuzz is floating in front of his eyes when I walk by and smile at him. I hate that you have a photography studio in your store. That's gay. So is the Dunkin Donuts, eye care center and the entire plus size section. I hate that you used to have the best pharmacy in town, without lines, or waiting. But then everyone caught on--so now we go to Walgreen's. A whole other store to frequent. I hate that you always have long ass lines and the same mildly retarded people working your registers who have been there for 18 years. They ask me awkward questions about myself and comment on my cat litter. For this reason I began using the self-checkout lanes. I hate that those check out lanes are always closed. Or one is open and it's 'cash only' or there is no sign saying 'cash only' so you get in that line and go to pay for your windshield wipers, only to slide your card and have no reaction from the kiosk. Slide. Slide. Slide. Blow on the card. Blow on the kiosk. Slide. Slide. Only to find out that this particular check out is 'cash only' A SIGN WOULD HAVE FUCKING HELPED. Or is it that your cashiers can't read, write or 'rithmatic?

Walmart, I hate that you've sucked me in. I love that your workout pants are only $8 and tampons are 2/$7. I love the giant heater that blows warm air on me when I walk in on a cold day. I love the guy at the service desk who always gets the job done quickly and with a smile on his face.

And Walmart, in conclusion, I hate the fact that 30% of Melanie's paycheck goes to you. Because if we're low on toilet paper, you betcher ass, she'll stop on her way in to work to get toiletpaper, papertowels, buttwipes, yogurt, cereal, dishsoap, face soap and body wash, razors, shaving cream, flossers, toothpaste, dog treats, cat treats, tampons, pads and pantiliners, English Muffins, a set of tupperware, and a bra. None of which we're actually out of yet.

Yours Sincerely,

Crystal K. Cochrane

Out of plain sight.

2010-02-05T19:47:00.003-05:00

Melanie keeps hiding things.

Like the toothbrushes. My mail. Towels. The humidifier. The dog.

She's doing this because she wants the condo in show condition at all times. Which, let's face it, it is. Okay there's that occasion where I'm sitting on the couch in a day old outfit drinking coffee, beanie cap on. unbathed. But that's it. If we get a call saying we have a showing, she can sweep me into a dust pan and throw me under the sink...

It's taken some getting used to. But I'm adjusting to finding things in their secret hiding places. And, quite frankly, it's like I'm always playing a game. Hide and go-seek for the older generation.

"YES, I found the soap dispenser!"

And then after I find it, and leave it out so that I can find it again-it disappears once more. Only to be found the next time I wash my hands. The other half of fun comes after I wash my hands hands and turn around to where my towel usually is so I can dry my hands. But no, my towel is folded neatly in the closet. In it's place, properly hanging is a fresh new towel. That I can't use.

This place couldn't look any less lived in.

I'm pretty sure the vacuum is only lulled when we're sleeping.

But I'm impressed. I'm thinking Melanie should do this for a living. If someone is selling a house, she could go live there and keep it in tip top shape.

She makes me happy.

(anyonewannabuyacondo?)

X

Am I pregnant?

2010-01-31T14:19:00.004-05:00

I sliced some mango yesterday (...or was it the day before??) because I had it in the fridge for
quite awhile. I always steal little bites when I'm working a mango...but the other day, it wasn't pleasant. I don't want to eat it. And the thing is...I love mango. But maybe not anymore.

A few weeks ago I got this weird ass stomach bug. No vomitting. No crapping. Just nausea and the feeling that my stomach was full...of bricks. At first I thought I was pregnant--but then I realized I'm not Mary...or that girl from Quinceanera.

Well, the day I came down with this...before it got really bad, I had mango and yogurt for lunch. With granola. Later that evening I went out and had my favorite kind of food. Mexican. Or Tex-Mex. Whatever works for you. I mean I do frequent one or two real Mexican places, but this wasn't one of them. Anyway, by that night, after returning home, I began my strange 5 day illness. I barely ate anything for the duration.

I know I was going somewhere with my point here. It's this. I haven't wanted to eat anything that I ate the day I came down with that gross stomach thing. So Mangos and Mexican food. AND YOGURT--Have all made their way to a list of foods I don't so much want right now.

It kind of sucks. Thinking back and getting re-nauseous.

But it happens.

...I'm not so worried about the yogurt thing. It tasted like Echo's ass before. I'm now researching other foods I can eat for balanced vaginal health. Mom recommended straight up cranberry juice. Sabrina recommended straight up probiotics (a word that is not in blogger.com's spellcheck). I'll dabble in both.

So I'm sad about getting grossed out by at least two of my favorite foods...

I had the same experience with Ranch dressing when I was a kid. And no lie, this has lasted for life. I don't eat ranch. I don't like the smell of ranch. There is something so disgusting about it that I can't handle it. So I'm a little worried.

I guess I'll try to slowly re orient myself. I like cheese, I like beans. I like fruit. But BLECH, just thinking about the cut up mango in the fridge is making me sick.

I gotta go.

X.

Post-Holiday Catch up....OH the drama.

2010-01-03T14:36:00.004-05:00

Alright, One month since I last blogged.

Why?

Stale ass brain. It happens I guess. Little to no inspiration. Thought I'd share Melanie's little adventure from New Year's eve.

I guess quite simply it goes as follows:

Echo woke that morning very stiff. Something we'd noted a couple of times over the last couple of weeks and had her on meds for--with a diagnosis of "over-playing." So we thought it wise to bring her BACK to the vet. For a real diagnosis.

It snowed New Year's eve. For a little while. In the morning....

Melanie brought her to work and made an appt for just before lunch time--as the snow was starting. They packed into the truck and headed down Route 9 to the vet. Coming in to Middletown where the weirdo lights are, people started to brake. Melanie, in an attempt to 'downshift' (something that can be done in an automatic vehicle--usually a car with 1,2,3 gears to slow a vehicle down without braking **note, you can't do this with a ford ranger) the truck, locked up the tires and put herself against a guardrail and partially into a ditch. Thankfully, she was fine. Shaken, but fine. The truck suffered damage to the bed...and will sadly be going into the shop this week for some TLC. No big deal, that's what insurance is for....

So, onward to the vet. Echo still needed medical attention. 1 blood test later it was revealed that she has Lyme Disease and Ehrlichiosis. 2 of the 4 tick borne illnesses in CT. I wish I had those kinds of odds with the lottery. Go Echo!! Again, luckily it's treatable. But she isn't too happy on the antibiotics.

2010 may bring new things to the Cochrane-Marino clan. Tomorrow I meet with our Real Estate Agent to discuss putting our place on the market. We've already started to take down anything personal around the house and really streamline the clutter (HA...) so that it's ready to start showing asap.

Tomorrow I'll run to Lowe's and start to do little things around the house that people may or may not notice.....Spackle, screw tightening, paint touch-up and whatnot. Just stuff that will make me feel better anyway.

It's a good project to have while I'm off this week.

I got an iPod touch for Christmas. It's opened my eyes to certain things--like being able to facebook while I'm on the toilet. I mentioned that to Melanie today and am pretty sure she selectively chose not to hear me. Can't blame her.

I joined a gym. For a few reasons. Primarily because I need something a little different. And I need options while my foot is healing. I'm still stuck doing short walks on flat surfaces. And after a walk, I still need to elevate. I'll meet with the MD tomorrow to see how things are healing down there.

Another reason for joining was to have a workout buddy. Melissa received a membership to the same gym for Christmas. And there is one close to where we both work. So that will be fun. Plus we can take classes together and make fun of people together. That last part was more me thinking out loud than anything else.

I've been avoiding the outdoors this weekend based on the arctic conditions, and so have managed to survive 3 days on 2 pairs of underwear. And I may be training Melanie in the ways of my underclothes. Though, today is laundry day. The sheets are crispy clean, and I will be required to have all fresh underoos.

....

Okay, I've been away from Lego Batman for way too long.

Peace.

X.

Let's get in the spirit...

2009-12-03T18:48:00.004-05:00

Shall We?

I always try to jump right in to the spirit right after Thanksgiving. For some reason I'm having a delay this year. Maybe it's the 64 degree day we had today. Maybe it's cuz it was just July. Don't know. But today I got out of my own way and I'm there. Man, I'm JAZZED! Say What? Yeah you heard me. 'Tis the Fucking Season!

And look, though you might not be able to tell--I pretty much love Christmas, or the Holidays or whatever the PC thing is to say anymore. I'm not at all religious so to me it's a celebration of winter, an excuse to spend time with our families. And most importantly it's a chance for Melanie to buy me clothes (she's really good at it).

So this morning I'm like.....let's decorate at work. When I go in, I'm breaking out my snowman lights and the snowmen window clings!! I guess everyone had that idea. My boss came walking in this afternoon with 2 poinsettias, a wreath and a Christma....er, Holiday tree. Jovan was none too pleased. Every time I turned around she was doing something inappropriate with the decorations. This chick HATES Christmas. Really? Who hates Christmas? I mean, maybe there's something there from childhood that I'm not asking her about....

I'm not even overwhelmed by the shopping I have to do this year. I'm almost done. which is odd for me....I mean, there's still some to be done, but as I think of ideas for people, I just buy it.

In the past I think I just got overwhelmed by everything I had to do and then didn't enjoy the holiday. I HATE shopping. So the idea of that every year pretty much paralyzed me.

I'm not entirely sure what is going on with me this year, but I officially got excited about the lights, trees, presents, singing and food today. Yes, today.

I don't even know what we're doing for Xmas.

We'll put our tree up in a week or so. Drink some spiked eggnog. Fight Echo for the giftwrap--and call it a year.

I CAN'T WAIT!!

remiXmas!!

Squash for thought

2009-12-02T18:57:00.003-05:00

Notes:

I'm glad to have some readers back
Elf has abandoned me for greener pastures
Where the fuck is V and who the hell is Sabrina?

Okay, I'm moving on...

Just now I was peeling butternut squash for Melanie to cook with dinner. It's a bitch to peel, but those of you who eat it regularly know this. I figured I'd just take the easy way out and peel it into the sink with the disposal in it. Hacked a good half pound of shavings in there.

I put the disposal on and ran the water. Everything went down. Then I scooped out the seeds n shit from the squash and flung them in the disposal...but those didn't go down. I ran it. Ran some water. Nothing. Got the Plunger thinking that would help....nothing.

Son
of
a
bitch.

I had to get down on the floor. Which isn't as easy with a semi-healed cracked foot and a tender knee (the knee is tender from my pathetic limp and favoring of my right leg). I felt like an elderly. I checked out the pipes and made a pretty accurate assumption as to where the issue may be.

One screwdriver, a gallon of orangy black water, and flying chunks of squash later, and I had the plumbing put back together. Clean as a whistle. Water flowing freely. But c'mon X, what is wrong with you?

If Melanie put that stuff in the disposal you'd yell at her....

Today I got my haircut. Shorter than I'm used to. It's because my hairdresser up and had a baby. So the last two haircuts have been with someone different. I like her enough, but she's not Nicole. Thankfully, for the next visit, we'll be reunited.

Aren't you glad you asked?

Happy Birthday Gabe!!

X

Pity Party Time

2009-11-19T19:37:00.003-05:00

I could scream.

I started my period today.

I'm in day 2 of what could possibly be H1N1 (though I'm highly doubtful...but I am
getting a recurring fever...maybe a call to the MD tomorrow??).

I'm at work.

And my fucking foot is still in a fucking surgical shoe.....

Really, things could be worse. But for me, right now---a coma would be
a sweet kiss.

Drama?

I think so.

Also, I'm at work.

I shouldn't be.

no, ma'am.

but who else would cover Thursday night? Our staffing is so skeletal that if one person is out, I'm playing ms. receptionist. And one person is out....and she has exactly what I have, so who else can sit here contemplating a Nyquil OD? Just me. Yep! This is what I call Middle Management bliss....or what could warrant a trip to the psychiatrist.

that's my rant for this week.

Pray for me.
(not that anyone reads these Mothers anymore)

X

weird numbers and my flabby belly

2009-11-11T07:35:00.002-05:00

Holy crap. I almost dropped my vegetarianism again. I was actually ready for it to happen. Planning to start on my birthday and go from there. I was in this mindset for more than a week.
But then, of course I started doing research to see if it was the wisest choice. Was it best to eat meat again? Because, let's face it--I need to do the right thing.

But I didn't come across anything that said "yeah, eating meat is better--go for it." In fact, I found more reasons NOT to eat meat with my second strongest reason for not doing so being that the environment would be so much better off if we didn't farm animals for food. So it goes. And I imagine I'll go round and round with this struggle forever and who knows what will come of it over time....

My midsection is a little flabbier than it was 4 weeks ago. Belts don't lie. I guess that can be expected. I'm not burning nearly as many calories as I was. I am still doing push ups and crunches and the like but nothing like what I had been doing. I miss it. I miss walking. I miss running around the house with the Bean.

And while I'm not depressed about it, I am a little on the negative side. I noticed yesterday that every comment that came out of my mouth in a 5 minute time span was depressing. We were talking about how it's so dark this time of year. My co-workers were happy that in December it will start to wane and we'll have more light. But I kept bringing the conversation back to the fact that we wouldn't see that for like 6 more weeks....

It's 11/11. I hate this day. I love Veterans. But the numbers freak me out. when it's 11/11/11
I'll probably hide in my bed all day.

Well, that's all I got for today.

Or may be all I got for the week...

X.

Tune in Tokyo

2009-10-31T10:05:00.003-04:00

During my time of dramatic healing, I have relapsed. Not with food, not with meat or ice cream, candy or crack. But I've relapsed with the television. My oldest and dearest addiction.

My earliest memories of the television has me on my knees watching the thriller video and Sesame Street. Or old star trek episodes and Celtic games with my father. I also remember sneaking up from our family nap times and watching afternoon cartoons instead of sleeping.

My father loved television just as much as me. He'd put the tv on during dinner or just put it on if the house was quiet. Something I've always done.

As a teenager I could sit in front of the television for hours on end. And I'd get in this weird zone where the world around me did not exist. It was my life.

But then as I got older, I started doing other things. My social life took off, I got a job, went to college....essentially I grew up. And for awhile there I didn't watch much tv. At all. In fact, even in recent years Mel and I will have every possible channel you could dream of, but we may only sit in front of the tv for an hour in the evening. Remembering, of course, that I have it on all the time for friendship.

But this last three weeks has awakened something inside of me. My inner couch potato. I've been watching stupid shows, good shows, movies, re-runs, infomercials, and the Today Show. It's nuts. And it's not like I'm just having the tv on while I do something else. No ma'am. I am full on watching the tv with intention. It's scaring Melanie a little.

She noted this past week that when I'm watching tv, my eyes glaze over and she can't really communicate with me. She tries, but has walked away in failure, losing horribly to a documentary called "The 650-lb Virgin."

So be it. This is what it is. And I still have a couple more weeks of it. While I will, in fact be back at work on Monday, it doesn't stop the fact that once I get home at 4:30, I'll be back in the corner, in the Pit o' Despair....watching the tube.

X.

Like Sand Through the Hour Glass

2009-10-28T11:00:00.002-04:00

Time is passing quick like a sonofabitch.

Mel turns 30 Something on Saturday. She's a Halloween baby. Well, she's not really a baby anymore--she's grown and sexy. And a hell of a caretaker, though we've all mentioned that over and over again. It's just so true, and I'm just so grateful!

I bought her a few things and told her she could pick something out for herself as well. So I see a shoe shopping venture in our near future. We're also going to have some dinner at Agave on Saturday night with mom and Paul. CTs Best Guacamole will be had by all. Not sure what to do for a cake yet, but I have my ideas...

Today was my 2 week check in post surgery. This time I had my real MD, whereas last time I had an associate of his who was a turd. I like MY doctor way better. He says I look great, the toe is moving VERY well--way more than before....when it didn't move at ALL!

At my next check up in 2 weeks we'll see about getting me in a big girl shoe. Can't wait.

I can't believe my three weeks home is almost over. I start back at work on Monday. Which is fine by me. I love Echo and the time we've had together, but I think she's sick of me taking over her chair. Who can blame her, I smell kind of weird...

But let's face it...this is coming from an animal who licks her ass.

X.

Week One of Chair-topia

2009-10-20T20:42:00.002-04:00

Holy crap, I've made it through one solid week of this weird bizarro life I'm living.

There was a little drama last week what with the passing out, being rushed to the hospital, and having several tests done. Only to determine exactly what I thought. I'm fine.

In the last seven days I've learned how to sit the fuck still. Kinda.

For every hour of the day I can get up for 10 minutes. I also need to keep ice on my foot for 40 ish minutes of that hour.

In the 10 minutes that I can ambulate, I try to fit in various activities--but, can only do one at a time--then generally consist of the following:

making my own breakfast or coffee--actually with the time crunch I can eat breakfast and prep the coffee, but must wait for another 50 minutes to come back and turn the coffee maker on and actually make my cup of coffee.
Taking a pee
Getting more ice
making a snack
changing the laundry
folding the laundry
putting said laundry away
taking Echo out--only 4 feet from the front step.

...and that's about it.

Limitations Limitations Limitations

BUT--limitations be damned. Melanie has been AMAZING. Not that anyone would think any different. She's cooked these great meals that yield great leftovers. And she's keeping in mind that I can't overeat with my fear of looking like the giant green chair in 6 weeks....such a great gal....

I'm currently waiting for my 50 minutes to be up so that I can go take a shower. Which will, of course have me up for more than 10 minutes--but a girl's got to bathe. I won't do it unless Melanie is close by. It takes an act of god just to get my foot in this weird plastic thing to keep water off of my wound. Then when I'm in there I have to keep the bad/broken/bruised/surgical foot up (ish) and keep pressure off of it, while I lean against the side of the shower and try to wash my hair with one shoulder on the tile....

Then when I get out I have to dry myself---still on one leg, and then slip out of the fun foot protector. I hop over to the bed--lay down for a millisecond and rest. Then sit back up and dress myself.

Mornings have been a little tough because I lay in bed....at like 6 am staring at the ceiling knowing full well that when I get up, I'm only going to be hopping or limping gingerly to the corner seat that I've set up for myself. The big green chair with ottoman. There's a pillow on the ottoman to lift my leg up a little more than hip height. Then I have the space heater, my laptop, hand weights, both phones, a book and several remote controls.

Sad thing is. I've fallen into a routine. But a girl's gotta live, and for me to live, I have to have a routine.

Off I go to bathe.

You should all be grateful.

X

Fears

2009-10-11T19:14:00.003-04:00

What do you think a formerly heavy woman of my age fears the most?

Yes, that's right. Becoming heavy again.

And even though my lifestyle has made a 180 degree turn from where it was when I sugared the hell out of my coffee, drank pepsi all day, fried ham for dinner and topped it off with 4 swiss cake rolls--I'm still super anxious about being unable to exercise...let alone stand for the next 6 weeks.

Taking activity away from me is like punching me in the mouth. With brass knuckles.

I may be a little dramatic here. Yes. In fact, I'm being VERY dramatic here. But that's me. That's X.

I don't fear the pain or the inconvenience of being wrapped up. I fear the boredom and the stillness.

And the anxiety is starting to heighten. As of today when I had to start taking celebrex to fight the pain that I'm going to have. I realized that Tuesday is looming.

I'll live through it.

I'll lose the dramatics soon. Because if I remain so caught up in my inability to move, I will probably stick a needle through my eye. The fear of gaining weight from sitting so still could possibly drive me insane.

So I'm going to change my thinking....and let it go.

Breathe in. Breathe Out.

From here on out, I'm looking at it as a chance to catch up with tv. Movies. internet and books. crossword puzzles and video games.

My ass may jiggle a little more than normal.

But you'll all love me just the same.

I hope...

Here's to eating like a bird!

X.

the things I see.

2009-10-04T18:17:00.003-04:00

People do weird shit when in the 'privacy' of their own car.

Ever notice that?

They act as if they aren't surrounded by clear windows.

Take this for instance:

I was rounding the corner after picking up some dinner for work the other evening. And in a car waiting at a red light was a man sqeezing the ever loving shit out of some zit on his forehead. Seriously. Like full on in the rearview, both hands on the bastard, as if he was in the bathroom. Alone....without half the city of East Hartford hanging a left in front of him.

moron.

I don't want to see that.

And I don't want to see you picking your nose, yelling at your wife, eating a cheese burger, and consequently picking your teeth. I don't want to see you crying, doing your makeup, painting your toenails or making out with your boyfriend.

This is why people die in fiery accidents...and no, it's not because they're distracted from driving. It's because people like me don't want to see you do this shit and so we pummel you when we're going 90 MPH.

Go home and masturbate.

X.

aight fries and good ice cream

2009-09-21T19:24:00.003-04:00

"I ain't sayin' that I'm the best...But, I'm the best." ~Mary J. Blige

The best of CT tour took another stop this past Saturday night. Jovan, Tash and I all headed out to Plan B for 'CTs Best Fries.'

There are two Plan B Burger restaurants in CT. One is in Hartford. The other is in Glastonbury. I've been to both locations. They have killer burgers...If you're into that sort of thing. Me, I stick with the homemade veggie wannabe burgers. They're just okay there, but if you get one of their gourmet burger concoctions on the veggie burger, it can be a good time.

We all needed to be sure to get fries with our meals. But sometimes we're like small ADHD prone children who can't choose anything. And then there's the extensive beer on tap and appetizer menu. How can one focus??

"Look, Jovan...see the meathooks....they made them into lights." I point out.

She and I agreed that it was pretty sick.

After what seemed like HOURS of deliberation, we finally decided on meals.

The ordering went as follows:

Me: Ottercreek Octoberfest
1 Baja Burger with a veggie pattie.
Baja Burger is as follows: avocado, jalapeno, cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato--
and a chipolte sauce.
Side of 'CT's BEST' fries.

Jovan: Lemonade
The Salmon Special, as follows:
Cajun style salmon with a
shrimp and spinach cream sauce
side of asparagus
side of steak fries (different from the traditional more 'shoestring' fries that
come with burgers).

Natasha: Coke
Bleu Cheese Burger, as follows:
One freshly ground patty.
Bleu Cheese Crumbles
Caramalized Onions
BBQ sauce
Side of fries

Negatives of Note:

My veggie pattie fell apart. I had to eat with a fork. Though, I have been there before. Ordered this before and was aware of it going in. My fries were not toasty, but more room temperature.

Jovan had to salt her Salmon. And one would think that going cajun would involve more spice.

Natasha found her burger salty.

Positives of Note:

My burger was so spicy it hurt. I was in heaven. The fries were still very good, but very familiar. The beer. it was okay. Let's not kid ourselves. When going Octoberfest, go Sam.

Jovan still loved the meal and said the steak fries were by far better than our fries. She ate the entire thing. And this was a big deal because every time I've dined out with her, she takes half home.

Natasha said the burger was GREAT. Despite the saltiness. She claims the flavors still really worked, and in all was very pleased.

The Fries: We could get the same quality at BK taste wise. But apparently they're prepared more healthy than we'll find there. Whatever. They were average. If you want better shoestrings, head down to New London and hit up Fred's shanty.

Onward.

For dessert, we were on to Vechitto's in Middletown. They have 'CT's Best Italian Ice.' This took some driving. First to my place where we combined vehicles, and then in to downtown Mtown. A place never really explored by my dear co-workers. They were impressed. I don't know how many people really know that Mtown is the shizzle...but let's fact it, it is.

We drove a little...and at first were unable to locate this little hole in the wall Italian Ice Shop. But then realized were having difficulty locating it because it was night time...and the place was closed....at 7pm.

WTF?? On Saturday night??

So much for that. Jovan felt Gypped. I was irritated. Natasha took it in stride. Just like most work days.

What else is in Mtown for dessert? I'm not going to lie....there's one not so great ice cream place next to Dunkin Donuts. Pralines. Yuck. And then there's cold stone. A chain. But if you're willing to shell out nearly 6 bucks, you can get something pretty tasty.

We parked Jovan's mom mobile. Right in front of a pole with a swastika. But close to the police station. So, no worries. We climbed a couple of stairs (with a pregnant lady, this can be difficult).

We waited in line for a bit. Talked some smack. Noted how cold the place was. And finally put in our orders:

Me: Sweet Cream Ice cream
Butterfinger
Caramel
Chocolate chips

FAN FUCKING TASTIC.

Jovan: Berry Lemony (no shit. it's some splenda sweetened smoothie.
She still wanted something frozen and fruity if it killed her.) And as another
side note, it should be stated that Jovan doesn't EVER do anything that is
artificially sweetened or diet. This was an accident. But she LOVED This smoothie.
She claimed...."It was bery lemony." DORK.

Natasha: Made her own concoction: I think it was strawberry ice cream,
Chocolate chips, hot fudge. She couldn't eat the whole thing and
had to put a cap on it to bring home.
Pansy.
But she stated it was "Really Good."

Next Stop--October: "The Cook House" New Milford, CT. Voted CT's Best Comfort Food. Best Nachos and Best BBQ!

X.

My technology woes

2009-09-12T09:24:00.004-04:00

Cellphones were never a big deal for me. My first one was a hand me down from my ex-girlfriend's mother. And a friend of mine at the time (the straight one I was in love with) worked for what used to be SNET, and then became Cingular, who then became AT&T...

Anyway, I paid $30 a month for a brick that barely held a charge. And when said ex-girlfriend's mother upgraded, I got another one from her. A smaller phone. But still a brick by today's standards. And all I ever did with these phones was keep them in my glove box. I never really called anyone on them. One came in handy when I was stranded on the Jersey Turnpike in the left hand lane coming out of a toll plaza. I pretty promptly called 911. A cop came out and stopped 6 lanes of traffic before gently nudging me with the bumper of his cruiser over to the breakdown lane, where I was towed to pep boys.

Eventually I moved on and upgraded on my own to a digital phone. And I started carrying it with me...for a short time anyway--before placing it back in the glove box where it belongs.

My family would call the number and I'd never pick up. This was not a device for chatting. THIS was a device for saving me if I got stranded. I was, in fact, living proof of this.

A couple of phones, and a couple of years later, Melanie and I joined a family plan. It was cheaper and easier. And by then I had progressively started carrying it with me. In my work bag...still not on my person.

Anyway, Verizon does this 'new every two' thing where you can upgrade your phone at a discount as long as you renew your contract with them. We signed up years ago, and have since upgraded as needed.

But this last time...

Oh my god.

I've been like a toddler who can't choose a toy.

My 'new every two' upgrade was last Monday. And because I'd been kind of displeased with the LG Chocolate I got at my last upgrade, I'd been patiently waiting for the day that I'd get a discount and could afford a new one.

And so, I'd been looking online in preparation. I was pretty sure I knew what I wanted. It was between 2 models. The Glance or the enV. Both by LG. The prices seemed right. But I didn't want to order online. I wanted to go into the store and manhandle the phones to see what fit my needs.

Monday morning Melanie humored me and we stopped in the Verizon store on Rte 66 here in M-Town. One of each model of phone was neatly on the wall with specs, pricing, and all that other crap. And I was overwhelmed. Almost immediately.

It should be said here and now that my heart has been with the iPhone since release. But because it would be a wasted and unnecessary expense, and is not available on the Verizon network. I don't have one. And I doubt I will.

But no other phones compare. And I didn't want anything else. And standing in the Verizon store fooling around wasn't making anything better.

So I left. Empty handed.

And for the following two days I griped about my options. I wanted something that was more high tech than just your basic cellphone. but I wasn't finding a need for it. So I kept going back to 'simplify' -- BUT I CAN'T SIMPLIFY TECHNOLOGY. It's my world.

So I spent hours on the verizon website checking out their phones. Whining a lot. Getting advice from other people. Then I took my sweet time and read reviews on all the phones that verizon has to offer. I even started checking out the touch phones (which I wouldn't buy because it might break my heart at not having an iPhone).

But then I read a review on the LG Dare. And I was intrigued. And I took a leap. I ordered it online.

It came yesterday.

And I'm sufficiently pleased. It's a fun little toy.

And I realized that the sun does not rise and set on the iPhone---it rises and sets on me...

fish n' chips.

X.

don't inhale

2009-09-08T19:21:00.004-04:00

As I was beginning to clean the kitchen post dinner-- And while Melanie was leashing the dog for her walk--she turned to me and said,

"When you're through, can you spray some Oust? It can be harmful to animals and small children if ingested. I don't want her here when you spray it. And please spray it away from her water dish." She indicated looking down at Echo.

...

What about me? What if I ingest it?

Point taken.

I also wonder about things like bug spray. This stuff I paid $8 for at Agway a couple of weeks back has deet in it. Isn't deet like agent orange or some shit? Don't get me wrong. I use it. The bugs this year are on steroids. Get enough of them together and they could sink their mutant bloodsucking mouths into me and carry me off.

But it can't be good. This stuff we use to fend off bugs. And what about the little signs that go up around the condos once a month or so in the summer. They're little yellow signs poking out of the ground with a kid and a dog circled and crossed out. It pretty much states that they shouldn't go near the grass...or sniff and lick it, as my pup is prone to do. Basically because it could kill them or make them ill. I used to tell beau to pee on those signs.

Then there's frontline. A monthly dose of poison that we put on our animals to keep fleas, ticks and mosquitoes from latching on. We all do it. Even though I know it can't be good. And why is it that we can do this to dogs, but we as humans don't have a magical poison we can rub into our skin to make the bugs go away? We would NEVER do this to ourselves. Yet we're so worried about fleas that we poison our dogs monthly....

Wow.

I'm sure there's more...poison.

like as humans, the poisons we use are stuff like candy that isn't really food. See twizzlers. or warheads. Splenda. Or deoderant. Should we really rub stuff on our pits that stops us from sweating? is that normal?

No.

So be it. My generation will either die from giant tumors or live well past their 99th birthday.

We shall roll the dice and see.

X.

Sailing the Ocean Blue...or brushing my teeth...

2009-09-07T16:13:00.004-04:00

In a follow up to my previous post, Melanie and I did go to Agave--and we did have the best guacamole in CT. Fresh and Delicious. They also have amazing food in general. Mel had chicken tacos. I had the fish tacos.

Next weekend the girls from work and I are going to do the best fries and the best italian ice. I can't wait.

Segue...

I was in the disgusting stinky bathroom at work washing my hands this week when I noticed something.

The sink was shaped like a shell. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Like half a freaking clam shell. And I thought. Why?

Why are aquatic themes so damn rampant in the bathroom?

Go down the bathroom aisle of walmart or target. The soap dispensers will have little fish on them. Or nautical flags. Or something else just as gay.

why?

Is it my goal to go numero deuce and imagine that I am, instead, sailing in the south of france? When I look across to the sink and see a bowl of shell shaped soap am I imagining that I'm on a beach in cape cod? Listening to the ocean...oh no, wait....that's not the noise I'm hearing.

It's funny really. The way that has happened. Over time. To the point where sinks are shaped like shells.

Thankfully--the wife and I agree on the theme for both of our bathrooms. Keep them clean and stink free. And we're happy.

X.

Food. My other wife.

2009-08-27T09:33:00.003-04:00

Yesterday Vince and I saw what looked like a man dressed as a woman getting out of a car with a mannequin in the passenger seat...

This was while we were in search of the best cupcakes in CT as featured in CT magazine. I'm pretty sure that my newest life goal is to find as much food featured in this month's issue as I can. And perhaps I'll share my findings. I've already had some of the items. Like Agave's Guacamole and Plan B's fries....

But yesterday, because it was close enough to go on lunch, Vince and I headed out to this little joint called "Sugarbelle" in Glastonbury. And I do mean little. Though I believe a bulk of the space was used as their baking factory. There was just a little space up front. Clean and white. There was a display case with cupcakes. just cupcakes. Gorgeous chocolates and vanillas. Pinks and whites. Fluffy frosting and the promise of heaven in my mouth.

The woman placing the cupcakes in the display began to rattle off the different flavors. There was birthday cake. vanilla bean. classic. chocolate covered strawberry....and on...and on. I had her pack up 6 assorted cupcakes ($15) to share with a few co-workers. And earmarked one for Melanie. Vince chose himself a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting.

After I finished a modest lunch of yogurt and granola I swiftly chose my cupcake. I had decided to go with the chocolate covered strawberry. It was unbelievable.

Let me see if I can remember the entire experience.

I lifted the cupcake carefully out of the box, trying not to get chocolate on my hands, but of course managing to get a little speck on my palm. I placed the cupcake on my desk and immediately licked my palm.....

moving on.

I looked at the tiny cake in front of me. Chocolate cake. Chocolate icing. And from what I tasted on my hand. Dark chocolate icing. In fact. In re-tasting, I realized it was GANACHE. The OTHER food group. The ganache was coating what looked like a thick, arching layer of strawberry frosting. Good lord. I couldn't wait anymore. I just picked the fucker up and took a bite out of the side. A little cake. A little icing...or should I say icings....

Love. Bliss. Oral orgasm.

I put it back down and properly undressed it. Folded the paper neatly and then threw it in the trash. It's rigtful home.

The cholate cake base of this cupcake was amazing. Clearly an original recipe. Moist. Almost spicy. In itself, it would have been a treat.

I ate bite after bite. Slowly. Making sure to wipe my face at every chewing interval...as I was at work.

By then end, I was full. Seriously. From a cupcake. This wasn't your 5 year old kids birthday party cupcake. In fact. Children should not be allowed near these bad boys!

Next stop, I will, in fact be doing a re-analysis of the guacamole at Agave in Hartford. That can't hurt....

X.

Nirvana

2009-08-21T20:10:00.001-04:00

I saw a fly today.

A Green one.

Dead. Laying sideways in a pile of 2 day old steaming wild animal poo.

And I thought.

"Is that fly heaven?"

X.

2 items of discussion

2009-08-18T18:26:00.001-04:00

1. I failed miserably at giving up ice cream...it was an unrealistic goal.

2. If we don't get these blogs up and at them again soon, I'm going to die from sheer disappointment.

X

Socks Maria

2009-08-10T19:42:00.009-04:00

I feel sad for Socks. She doesn't get nearly the attention she was getting when we were between dogs...

But I blame her partially--if not all, for this. If she came out to visit me more. I'd be all over her.
When I first met Melanie, Socks was this mean ass black cat who wasn't nearly as cute as bijou (seen here in all of his manliness). Bijou would look at me and his eyes seemed to be telling me that he loved me. If I picked him up he'd literally hug me with his two front legs. He'd purr his face off and just stare at me. If I approached Socks, she'd meow. Maybe hiss. And then thwap me.

So I avoided her. Most people and animals did.

As time went by, I realized that she wasn't exactly trying to take my life. She was, instead, just talking to me. And if I stuck around long enough to get through the thwap, there would actually be some time in there that I could her pet and talk to her and get her to purr. She'd lay on her back and let me lay with her for a bit. But then Bijou would come traipsing along--looking for some of that action. And she'd bolt.

Then came Beau. Beau and Bijou were pretty close. And I'm sure that while they were cute as hell, they tormented Socks.

I started to notice a change in Socks, when Bijou took ill. Toward the end he was spending inordinate amounts of time at the vet. And during these times away. Socks would stretch out on the floor. Come into the living room and talk to us. She had this ease about her that was a lot more pleasant for us. And then sadly, Bijou pass. I'm pretty sure that Socks rejoiced....

She became a different cat after that. A little more normal anyway. But not all the way normal. No, that will never happen. But She and Beau had a pretty good routine. He ignored her. She batted as his face when he walked by. Once...and only once. Did I catch them sleeping together. But as you can see by the look on her face. She wasn't enjoying it....

Beau passed shortly after this picture was taken. I like to believe that she knew he was sick, and for that--pretended to cuddle with him.

When Socks was the only animal in the house, you would have thought we were the sun. She revolved around us and us around her. And if were weren't acting enough like they did, she would remind us. Meowing at me when I got in the shower, Meowing at me when I ate breakfast. Sitting on my stomach and kneading my belly fat. Waking me up at 1 am while sitting on my chest staring right into my face. A little creepy. Sometimes, she'd even put her freaking paw in my cereal. Gross Socks.

It was kind of nice actually. For that short spurt of time to see how crazy she can be. How vocal and loving.

Now that the bean is here...it's a little different. But not all the way. She pretty much runs from Echo. Hisses at her. Swats her. Echo barks at her. It's all a very pleasant experience. But she comes out more. She doesn't hide like she did with the other two (here's another rare pic of all three in one room).

She's a good cat. In fact, she's been right here the entire time I've been typing this and looking through old pictures. Purring in my face...I have a super soft spot in my heart for her. And when Melanie tries to pawn her off on friends and family. Or forgets to feed her. I promptly kick her in the shin.

Here's to you socks!!

going on hiatus

2009-08-09T18:30:00.002-04:00

Woooooo-SAH!

I'm giving up ice cream for 2 weeks. Why?

Don't act like you're surprised. I give shit up (not always with success) when I feel like I don't have any control over it.

Ice cream has been slowly taking over my life. To the point where not only is it always in the freezer, but there is also always a backup supply. And there is always a flavor Mel likes, and a flavor I like. Do you know how expensive this is??!!

Also, I've been forgoing other desserts--just to go home and eat the same flavor of ice cream I had last night. We'll be out at some restaurant--where the dessert menu looks killer. But when the waitress comes and asks "Did you save room for dessert and coffee?" We both look at each other as if to say..."don't they know we do that at home??" Seriously. For Turkey Hill ice cream. Crystal--try something else. Ice cream isn't the be all and end all.

Sure, I like it. I freaking love it. But I love other things too. Like cake. Fudge. Cookies. Brownies. Even the poor neglected sherbet! But these next two weeks will be devoted to trying different desserts.

Could be worse.

X.

wipe your....

2009-08-05T08:06:00.003-04:00

Last evening, the cutest little set of blue eyes peeked over to the counter
where I was receptioning for the children's clinic. She must have been standing on her tippy toes, as when she checked in with her father, she was out of view, below.

"Can you...um, I need help getting...can you unlock the bathroom?"

Of course I could help her. She was so flipping cute. And polite. She comes in weekly and is consistently this cute.

When I opened the door to the bathroom I noticed that the toilet paper roll was empty and needed a refill. So, I grabbed a new roll and unwrapped it, placing it on the counter for her to use.

"Is that brand new?" She asked me.

"Yep. Nice and fresh." I said, leaving her to her business.

I was barely able to sit back down before she had finished. opened the door. And scuffled back to the clinic. But not before coming back to me very quickly and thanking me for my help. Most likely at her father's urging.

But let's face it. She never washed her hands (as I've noted that most kids don't)--and when I went into the bathroom later, she never used the toilet paper.

Kids are disgusting.

X.

An average morning?

2009-07-30T21:19:00.003-04:00

I give myself 1 hour to get ready for work in the morning. Generally this is from 6-7am.

Most mornings I work out from 5-5:45, then maybe check my email or give the bean a quick chance to dump some chocolate nuggets and pee in the grass. Being up at 5 is a nice head start.

Then I wander to the bathroom. Do some private business. Brush my teeth. Shower (maybe shave). Dress half way (pants and maybe a tank or tee). Do my hair. Wander to the kitchen. Put my lunch together (generally pre-planned and some components pre-contained in the fridge). Prep my fruit for breakfast. Wake Melanie up...gently. Pour cereal. Try to wake Melanie up again by making her feel guilty that I might have to eat breakfast alone. Sit and eat on the couch with Melanie whilst we bitch about the state of our economy and at local law makers. Then I Start my coffee Maker (which really is just turning it on, as the ingredients have been measured the night before) and proceed to finish dressing myself. Spray on some perfume, add cream and splenda to my coffee. Froth. Kiss the wife good bye, and am at work sharply by 7:25 am.

On a morning like this--when I don't work out. When I"m struggling to make it out of bed right at 6 am. It may look a little like this.

Crap. It's 6:05. Go to the bathroom. Brush my teeth. No problems yet. Get in the shower. Shit, I have racquetball tonight. I should shave my legs. Well, maybe they aren't that bad *reaching down* Yeah, they're that bad. Shave my legs. Shower goes a solid 4 minutes longer than usual. Dry off--get myself half...make that a quarter dressed when I notice that the pants I plan to wear haven't been ironed? Weird--as I iron all clothes for the week on Sunday. Iron those. Takes a solid 5-7 minutes. Put them on. But it's kinda hot in here, so putting on hot pants makes me sweat a little. Dry my hair. Sweat some more. Turn the A/C down. Wake up Melanie...Just once today. I wandered to the kitchen to ponder lunch. 6:31 am. Holy crap, I'm 11 minutes behind schedule. And, I have no clue what I want to eat. Guess I'll make salad. WTF?? On a day when my routine is so blasted, I should have cut lunch prep short and grabbed granola and yogurt. A Luna Bar and Yogurt. Even PB&J would have been faster. But no. Chop Peppers, Cucumber, carrots, and some spring mix bagged salad. Put salad toppers and a few croutons in a separate bag. And contain some dressing. Also prep some strawberries for a healthy snack (which was cut out today by a chocolate croissant...which would you pick?). Super Duper late. It's now 6:53. Still no breakfast. Yikes. Check the coffee pot. Never prepped last night. Measure coffee. Measure water. Coffee Maker ON. Pour some cereal, clean a peach. Eat my cereal while I finish dressing...adding a shirt and shoes. Do the full body check on the mirror to make sure I don't look like a circus freak. Spray a touch of perfume. Tighten the hair with a bit more hairspray. Finish my cereal. Fix my coffee. Bring the Peach to go.....

Kiss the wife. Forget my name...

Mornings like this make me remember why I iron and choose my outfits on Sunday. Why I prep my coffee in the morning. Why I take strategic showers at night to shave and pre-plan my lunches. Why I work out...........

X

It only sucks if you let it get to you.

2009-07-28T19:58:00.002-04:00

Well. It looks as if weeds are collecting here at my blog...

This evening I walked away from the mailbox with only a postcard from dominoes. Phone numbers for delivery that I may use. I tossed everything else out. Useless trash.

I am of the strong opinion that people create their own chaos. I am not generally one of those people-- yet, lately one may think otherwise. Today is a prime example:

I needed to register my truck. And for some reason I feel that if your registration says 'Jul 09' that you have until the end of July 09 to get it renewed. Little did I know that there is an actual expiration date, as noted on your registration...I feel like it's hidden.

But, I digress.

So I waited, and knowing that this is the end of the month, I figured I'd go this week. Then I checked online to see what I'd be paying and found out that not only was I due on July 17th, but it's also past the 10 day window I had to NOT pay a late fee. But let's face it, I'm the LATE FEE QUEEN. Procrastination comes from my father's side of the family. I refer to myself as the queen based on the fact that I was also going to be paying a late fee for my emissions. I can't stand emissions now. When there used to be a sticker on your vehicle, it was so much easier to remember...

So I did it. This morning, and without much more than a $30 late fee--and fairly smoothly I might add. DMV is only difficult if you don't have a pen, or if you're foreign.

Then I got to work and was promptly given notice that a bunch of the phones didn't work.

Shit...

On lunch I went to the bank just to leave the building and deposit a check. There were 3 open lanes. Each with a car at the magic suction cylinder thing. I, of course, picked the slowest of these three lines...

Later in the day, as the end was near--a tech from our phone company showed to help with our phone outage. Of course, my issue eluded him. He hung around for nearly an hour past my quitting time-- But jesus! I needed to leave because my small black dog was ready to come home post uterus removal. I stayed way late and hit traffic. THEN, I waited for nearly 45 minutes at the vet to pick up my dog.

On the drive home, after Echo proved to me IN THE VET PARKING LOT, that she will never settle down...ever, stitches or not, we came across the weirdest combination of car accidents ever. 3 of them, all on Washington street---the entire extent of which I needed to get down to get home.

We did make it eventually. And I made dinner without chopping my head off.

But life these days is off for me...

My routine is all kinds of fucked up. I haven't played racquetball, I haven't blogged, I've been eating dinner well past 6:45. I work out when I want, instead of daily--AND I've been obsessed with sleep and the fact that I never feel like I get enough to eat.

Work is insane.

But I'll live. A wise consultant told me last week (while we were crossing the street for coffee) that "...it only sucks if you let it get to you".....he's right. And really it could be anything...work, life, my lack of routine.

And truly, while I haven't been keeping pace on my blog. My summer has been pretty bad ass over all. Lots of adventures, a moderate amount of sun, plenty of ice cream--and enough bug bites to last a lifetime.

So, I'm working on not letting it get to me.

X.

Looking Back....As I do.

2009-06-16T19:29:00.009-04:00

I do this thing where I count my life in increments. Generally in 10 year chunks.

I'm a sucker for reminiscing about how life was....lost a bit in nostalgia from time to time. And I think that it's okay. It's how I became me.

Recently I was trying to wake the memory of what I was doing 10 summers ago. And I remembered that it was quite literally the final summer of my adolescence. I said good bye to being a kid that year. And I didn't even know it.

I said a dramatic good-bye to my girlfriend of 3 and one half months and went south to Mississippi. Mom insisted I come. At first I was miserable about it. I did NOT want to be away from my friends. AT-AWL! When you're 20 years old, they're your life. Your family. And quite frankly I was in love with one of them...the straight one, of course (a story for another time).

But there I was. In an airport in Mobile Alabama meeting my mom for the drive to Gulfport. This place was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Green. Sweltering. Southern. I was the only gay for a 150 mile radius.

When we got to the place my family had been staying, I was impressed. It was by far the nicest military housing that I'd seen. Even as the kid who wasn't around, I got my own room. With a tv, and my old dresser, void of clothes. So I tucked all of my t shirts and shorts in. And crashed.

As the summer passed I have memories of walking around the base with Gabe. Smoking cigarettes, picking Sean up from Camp. Being told by the counselors that "Sean was playing with himself today..."

Great.

Fishing late at night for catfish. Laughing wildly at the signs that read "Don't Molest the alligators." One night, near that very lake, Gabe stole a chair that someone who'd been fishing there before left. It was a nice green outside chair. He put it in his room. My mom kept that god forsaken thing for YEARS!

My girlfriend and I sent letters back and forth--mine were drippingly romantic with plans to spend days in bed upon my return...her's had an undertone of infidelity. Something about a girl she was hanging out with....

More summer passed. I smoked a ton of weed. Drank 40s on the patio with Gabe and his friends. Laughed cuz Gabe couldn't hold his malt liquor. I mean, the dude is only a buck forty soaking wet.

I remember an IHOP and a boat that had been washed up by another hurricane years before. And dogs with mange walking around. Cars that were practically sawn in half, driving around. There were pawn shops, and poor people.

Gabe and I watched every Faces of Death video we could get our hands on...

And in more brotherly bonding...

Sean and I would sit on the front step and watch thunderstorms come in before dinner. He was 8.

Sometimes he'd come to the beach with me and we'd hang out--swim. Chase birds.

Mom took the 3 of us canoing down the Wolf river. We fished and played. Sean vomitted a few times and we--as sensitive as we could--told him to suck it up. We were later attacked by giant violent fish. And that night, at home, in true Mom fashion, we popped popcorn and watched Deliverance. A lesson of sorts.

I went to New Orleans several times. And loved every minute of it. The place smells of piss and booze, but it's phenomenal.

Mom took us to the New Orleans zoo. I remember being lost in town and my mother rolling up to an older dude on the street corner and saying, "Happy Sunday! where's the zoo??"

Embarrassed? Yes. We all were.

I remember the drama of Gabe and his girlfriend. They were a cute little couple (regardless of his indiscretions with the neighbor girls)--I went bowling with them a couple of times. In fact, Gabe worked at the Subway in the bowling alley, and sometimes I'd just go and bowl alone and chill with him...

He dumped her randomly for no reason that summer. I remember her showing up at the front door crying.

"I don't know what to tell you..." I said to her at the door. "He won't talk to you."

She just kept crying....

Mom worked at a vet. I'd sometimes drive her in to work in the morning so I could have the vehicle. I remember the smell there. I can't describe it, but if I smell it again, I'll tell you. I volunteered there one Saturday morning. It was uneventful. I remember they had a kitten there...or two? Named Cotton? Elf?

I wasn't working. I had only the money that my father was still giving me to live on as a college student. I tucked most of it away for my first trip to Provincetown at the end of summer.

Some nights, mom would give Gabe and I $10 to go to the movies. They were so freaking dirt cheap down there. We'd take her van. Silly van--and that would be enough for snacks and tickets. Sometimes it was just the two of us. Sometimes we'd bring his friends.

I remember a few nights, getting in trouble. Fire crackers at one intersection. Some giant guy in a camaro at another....threating to kick my ass after I'd cut him off.

I would sit at the pool during the day. Annoyed at the 16 year old life guards. I'd watch Sean who was there with his day camp. He'd wave and jump in the deep end. And I'm pretty sure he shouldn't have been jumping in the deep end.

That was the last summer I could carry him. He's always fallen asleep in the weirdest ass places. So, I'd carry him up the stairs to his bed...

Marlborough lights were $1.99 a pack...I smoked my fair share.

My girlfriend came to visit about mid-way through. She'd won plane tickets when she graduated from high school...yes, high school. She pierced her tongue on that visit. By then I'm sure she'd already cheated on me. And a few weeks later she confirmed it over the phone.

One night my mom took us kids out for dinner. To Shoney's--it was right on the coast there in Gulfport....or Biloxi? Elf may know better.

We were all laughing. I don't remember at what. While we were eating dinner. Laughing so hard that Sean let one fly. Which, of course made us laugh harder. Making everyone stare. Crazy family? I think so.

The entire summer was awesome.

When I left, I was sad. I remember my mom crying at the airport. She was behind the glass when I walked away, toward the gate. I'm sure I looked down so I wouldn't tear up.

I missed my mom when I left.

And I missed my brothers.

And that weird sense that my childhood was gone...

I went on to my first trip of many to Provincetown that August. I brought my girlfriend and was promptly convinced we were NOT meant for each other.

We broke up--

3 and a half years later.

I also started my first real job later that year. And the following summer I packed up and left campus housing to live with roommates. I never went back home to stay.

X.

Melanie, Shut yo' Mouth!

2009-06-11T20:21:00.002-04:00

Last night when Vince and I were tooling back from the court discussing how shitty I played--we ran in to Melanie walking both dogs.

She had, in her adventures that evening, run in to our neighbor's new roommate. A dude. She said, and I quote:

"Have you met the other Melanie's new roommate? Oh my god, he's sooo hot."

Imagine my "squinty eyed I just shit my pants a little" face.

"Mel?"

She was just appreciating the fact that he was/is a good looking dude.

But the moment she said that, my stomach dropped.

This weird fear that I have only felt one other time in passing during my relationship with Melanie came creeping in.

It's the fear that someone else could be hotter than me. Enough so to catch her eye.

I don't like that.

In my world--I am the be all and end all of Melanie's passion. She finds me hottest, nicest, cutest, funniest, and on and on and on....

And yet I make it a point to tell her when I think a chick is hot.

I wonder if she ever gets that weird fear in the pit of her stomach like I did last night.

And if she does...I have no right saying those things.

This may only last approximately 10 days...

X.

WHAT-EVA!

2009-06-10T21:03:00.005-04:00

Socks has been in hiding since Chloe got here.

I was paranoid just now that she hadn't gone into her catbox in over 9 hours, but
have just learned otherwise.

***

The word 'whatever' is a loaded gun.

I remember being a kid. And my brother or I would say it to our father, and it used to really get him. Pissed him off, because at that point, we didn't care, weren't listening. We were just...whatever. Even into my adulthood I'd say it to him when I was frustrated, and he'd still have the same reaction.

"I hate that word."

"I hate that you're an alcoholic." (I've never said that, but it was the first thing that just came to my head).

Anyway....back to 'whatever.' It's also a great tool when having a disagreement with your significant other.

The following is a typical disagreement for us. It usually starts with me saying something asshole like---not thinking it's asshole like---and then waiting for Melanie to talk to me about how I can be less of an asshole. Below, you'll see where I use the word 'whatever' to my advantage.

Me: Why aren't you talking to me?

Melanie: You were just mean to me.

Me: Well, you did something that made me mad. Can we talk about it?

Melanie: Why?

Me: So that I can feel better.

Melanie: Whatever.

Me: *RED FACED AND ANGRY*--I walk away

20 minutes later--

Me: Are you really not going to talk to me?

Melanie: {Silent}

Me: Melanie???

Melanie: {silent...doing something like making the bed, or picking fuzz out of thin air}

Me: Fine WHATEVER I'm over it

Melanie: Wait...so that's it??

{making up ensues}

And then there's always the 'whatev's' My universal answer when all I want to say is "I don't give a shit. Fucking make a decision and let me know. For crying out loud I make decisions all week."

By just saying 'whatev's' I'm actually sounding all laid back and peaceful.

Little did you know. It's a tool to be passive.

Whatever.

I'm going to take a shower. I smell like the court and armpits.

X.

Not much

2009-06-07T19:50:00.011-04:00

Today I didn't do much. It was a typical Sunday--Coffee and the L Word first thing this morning, followed by ironing and budgeting.

Then Mel and I took the dogs to Hurd State Park in East Hampton. I've added a few pictures of this cool ass fungus, a mug of Echo and a video for your viewing pleasure. Tomorrow's Monday.

X

Vomitting bed time stories

2009-06-06T20:35:00.002-04:00

Holy Snot. So, today I finished building all of the pieces in our bedroom set.

I made the bed last Sunday--well, put it together and fastened the comforter duvet thing...the night stand Monday...and then last night, while Melane was off at the Coach outlet, I made her dresser.

This morning, I made my dresser.

We moved the old furniture out. Gave the bed to Melissa, threw away our green chair (which will sadly be missed) and literally trashed the old dressers. These were, in fact, the bane of all existence.

So, we're done. It looks pretty good. I'm content overall. But one of the dressers is a short one, you know so it's long ways and there is all of this extra wall space that we now need to fill in. And, the furniture makes our li'l 13 inch tv look archaic. We need a flatscreen.

Funny story with the bed...

So it's all together last Sunday night. A fresh new bed to sleep in (same mattress). Mel made the comment that it felt kind of like we were on vacation, or in a hotel or something. I agreed. The bed sits a little lower than our old one did. And once we put together the night stand, Socks thought it might be a good place to perch and stare at me in the middle of the night.

Does she do this on purpose??

Then, Wednesday night--Socks again--vomits on the bed. Gross. Why? Because at 4 am I awake to Echo sniffing the foot of the bed. I go to grab her and put her back up with us and feel something that feels like a mini poop. GROSS? yes. So I flip out and get out of the bed. Turn on the lights--Melanie is squinting like it's nuclear winter mind you--and instead of a mini poop, I see a major hairball.

Effing Socks....

So we pull the bedding off and wash it...

Thursday night into Friday Morning, I awake to vomitting....again...

No really. This time it's Echo.

Luckily it was just a little bit. Easily cleaned.

We are now pug sitting for a neighbor. 7 Days. Her name is Cloe. She and Echo get along famously, and this is the only reason that we agreed to this...well the only reason I agreed to it. I would never leave my dog with this girl for 7 days. She's nice enough, but I don't know her well enough...right?

Last night...Cloe peed on our comforter.

I threw it off the bed. It's bad luck. We'd had the same quilt on our bed since (I swear) we moved in together and for some reason, the week we buy something new--all hell breaks loose.

Needless to say, the old one is back on.

Ack, I hear dog squealing.

Aight, egg and cheese on an English Muffin.

X Style.

2009-06-03T21:09:00.002-04:00

I had my blood drawn this morning. It was fasting, so I had to go early. Before work.

I got in to the lab at a weird rotation and despite having only 3 other people waiting in the room with me, I still had to wait 1/2 hour.

Then, I went to starbucks for some full caff coffee (racquetball tonight--lost 2, won 1). Walked in at the same time as two dudes who came in the back. Wound up behind them. Waited longer than i feel is necessary---but would wait hours for starbucks. It's an illness. But it's the same for Java-P as well.

Got in to work and was told (before I could even start ANYTHING) that I needed to report back some phone statistics to the Executive Team. Yay--add that to the 15 story pile. Thing is, to get this info, I needed a user name and password that hadn't worked in FOREVER. And I'd pretty much given up on this particular reporting program because it was useless...but not now apparently.

So I called tech support, and walked through an HOUR while he looked at backup files to get the username and password...wtf?

In the real world, admins can just change passwords.

THEN, I had an email conversation with a guy from comcast business re: setting up a high speed internet connection at our business. It was a continuation from a conversation we had yesterday, and I even referenced the email in the follow up today. He didn't remember, and it made the email conversation awkard. It ended in: The rep for your area is Blahblahbadeeblahh, please call him at 860-eat my ass.

I was like...why did this dude spend the last two weeks helping me, and then get sudden onset mental retardation??

This was followed by a severe phone issue that can't be solved--and I've had people looking at it for days.

And bosses are like "when is that going to be fixed."

And I'm all like..."you want the real answer?"

Today was a wash.

World: 56
X: 0

pizeace.

X.

Boobs, Bruises, and Ikea

2009-06-02T20:05:00.003-04:00

So Friday night Vince and I went out to 'celebrate' his promotion. Really it started out as a girls night one giggly afternoon in my office. (seriously--girls at work come in my office, sit on my desk, in my chair, and talk. And no Foo, they aren't hitting on me---always)--But I know that inevitably, when the girls plan a night, it won't happen. They rarely actually happen. So, my backup was to make sure Vince was there. Why? Cuz that dude is reliable.

We started the evening at a place in So. Glastonbury. New, I guess. It had been 25 other restaurants in past lives, and was now incarnate as a tavern. We sat outside and shared some appetizers and conversation. Another friend from work joined us and we tried to convince her to join us for Boobies at Kahoots after we left there. A place, for which, I can't find a website to link. But that's okay. It's a topless Bar.

She didn't want to join us--well she did and she didn't, but then her kid texted her and she needed to go. And I guess that's probably more normal than Vince and I deciding to go. Which we did. At like 7pm...

Girls got in free, boys were $5 cover. So it was my treat. He's a cheap date.

We sat at the bar for approximately 15 minutes as we absorbed the atmosphere.

Dudes.

Some creepy, some relatively normal--lined the place. They were at the bar, in the 'dancing area,' and really just lingering everywhere. And then there were chicks wandering around the joint in really slinky outfits. Just walking up and down. Stopping every couple of steps to visit with a dude...or when I looked to my left, I saw one visiting with a chick and a dude.

After boredom set in. And when we were ready to see naked women, we moved into the bigger area where booths surrounded a large circular table in the center of the room. There were chairs around it where you could sit if you wanted a dancer to get close to you. Maybe have a conversation...we did see a dude with his face in a set of breasts, having a conversation with the stripper...

What do they say? "How about Obama's views on foreign policy?"

And he was really close...to other parts too. If another woman's privates got that close to me, I'd need a morning after pill.

I think...

We took a booth....and watched. And seriously had conversations about each girl and how not so hot they were. Maybe like 3 were aight.

Like you guys want to hear this....Hell yeah you do. Nobody else is blogging. And when I say nobody else, I mean Elf and myself...

Toward the end of our stay at Kahoots, Vince decided he liked one of the girls, and took off to the table to try for a closer look. And yes, we texted eachother while we were 14 feet away. But it was hard for me. I was alone.

Alone and in the hands of a stripper who wandered by and noticed how irrisistable I was (or was looking to solicit me for a lap dance), she then asked to sit with me...or more particularly on me. I asked her how her day was and from there discovered that she had a son that just graduated college....

Great.

She and her baby daddy were going to buy him a car. In fact, she'd made 2k that day to help pay for it.

We left shortly thereafter.

To find greener pastures, and for Vince to vomit. Literally.

The next morning I'd planned a mountain biking excursion with Melissa. Our first of the season. And really we need to pick it up because we are planning to bring our bikes to Maine in July and ride the shit out of Baxter State Forest.

So we took off to this chunk of woods in Cockaponset State forest, which really spans Haddam and Middletown, and I think even souther...is souther a word?

It's easy to get lost in there. But fun has hell. We both wound up with a few good bruises...and lost about 4 miles from the parking lot and closer to the CT River than we should have been. V is pretty familiar with being lost with me.

It's a good time.

When I got home, my body felt as if it had been hit by a Speeding City Bus. And then backed over. I sat, stiffly, on the couch, checking where on my body I was going to find bruises.

Bad ass?

I do think so.

I took Melanie out for dinner and ate like I'd never eaten before. I love eating after I've been lost in the woods. Something kicks in. Like survival mode. I feel like that while I was lost I was starving close to death...and that somehow justifies fries, bread, and fried breaded catfish....

Sunday morning Melanie was opening one of her dresser drawers and it fell apart. And this has been a normal occurrence for quite awhile. I'd repaired it once, but it broke again. In fact, almost all of the drawers were broken. Same with my dresser.

I'd kept saying we should go to Ikea and just get a couple of dressers to replace the junk in our bedroom. So, Ikea isn't Thomasville, but it'll do on a budget.

We went. We actually went and picked out an entire new bedroom set.

And for some reason, we went with the idea in our minds that when we got to the warehouse to pick up the furniture, it would be all neatly organized by style, and some nice guys wearing back protectors would help us out to the truck with everything.

Wrong again dumbass.

Try wheeling our own flatbed cart around the warehouse--imagine something like this

Dresser 1--in 2 pieces found in aisle 24 Bin4
Dresser 2--in 2 pieces found in aisle 14 bin7
Night Stand- 1 piece found in aisle 4 Bin14
Bed-- 4 pieces (head and foot board, side bars, slats center rail)--found all over the fucking world.

OH wait, and we had to have the comforter that was on the bed in the show room...
Came in two pieces...duvet style.

For crying out loud.

One and one half hours later we had everything in the truck and were driving home.

I will be building furniture all week.

OH, and in conclusion--I went in for my yearly check-up and to discuss options for my toe. The arthritis is taking over the joint...and while I asked her if I could remove it, she gave me another option. A specialist. WTF?? And X will be seeing a podiatrist...feeling like some old fart.

Fucking Needy Old body.

X.

Grooming

2009-05-22T17:04:00.003-04:00

Oh sweet baby jesus, that I may be able to skip a week of shaving.

Not this time of year baby!!'

Not any time for me actually. Given my racquetballing, I need to keep fresh. It maybe wouldn't matter so much if I balled with a girl, but it's a dude.

I caught a look at myself in the mirror earlier this week and was mortified. It seems I'd forgotten to bleach the stash and pluck the brows, for what looked like months.

I can't believe I'd been seen in public that often. At work daily, in fact.

So I tried to play catch up. I plucked quickly after my shower the other night. When it hurts the least. But based on what I had to get off of my face, I was still in a decent amount of pain. I also took a look at my chin to check for the beard that I swear will grow if I don't keep up with plucking. Yes. Plucking. Gross? You bet! But I refuse wax.

Today I came home and had some time while I folded clothes. So I bleached. That's not so great, because if I get the ratio of activator to bleach fucked up then I burn my face. You'd think I'd be a pro because I've been doing this for nearly 13 years. But for some reason, I still haven't found the sweet spot.

Whatever. So My face looks great. But I do need to freshen the legs. Not to mention the pits. And wherever else hair seems to grow by leaps and bounds.

Let's face it. We need to do this. I need to do this in order to look like I'm not missing a link and dragging a knuckle or two. But I don't feel like I needed to do this when I was younger. In fact, I didn't even touch my eyebrows until a couple of years ago. I didn't think they needed it. But then one day I looked in the mirror and realized that there was a loss of control that happened--and I swear I could see the brows inching toward each
other.

As I age. I grow hair.

What is that about?

And what if I didn't take part in any of these grooming exercises? Would I still be as attractive?

NO.

That's all I got for now.

X.

Feathers Everywhere

2009-05-20T08:23:00.002-04:00

Woke up a little before 6 this morning. Let myself sleep in a bit as I have racquetball this evening
and really didn't need to work out.

Ran outside with Echo in my boxer shorts....figured I'd be fine...nobody is out then.

Wrong...Neighbor dude from upstairs saw me. Jesus, my shorts were all crooked, you know like a 3 year old who just pulled up their pants...

go me.

Still. No big deal. He's bound to see me in interesting outfits...I've lived there nearly 6 years. So has he.

Next. Speeding down the road on the way to work. Pass a direct TV van who is not sure what lane he wants to be in. So I'm going li'l fast. A bird flies in front of me--gets so low that I think he's flown off to the right....OH NO...not at all. He's flown UNDER my car. Oh jesus, I could feel my body get tense with worry immediately. So I check my rearview mirror to make sure that he's okay...

All I see is feathers. Feathers, and a lump that flies out of the back of my car and rolls on the road.

Oh man. All I want to do is cry. I killed a bird. And not even neatly like when I crushed the chipmunk. Man, I annihilated this thing.

I remember when V hit a bird 2 years ago. Back when we first became friends...and I was all harassing her, calling her 'Bird Killer' and whatnot.....What did I know?? Though I doubt she was as distraught.....

And no lie---not even kidding. Next song on my iPod--after blowing up the bird, was "Fly Away (little bird)" by the Indigo Girls....THEN, after that one--again NO LIE was a song by the Corrs called "Toss the Feathers."

WHAT??!

Got to work after calling Melanie to tell her that I didn't deserve to live (she convinced me otherwise).

I then proceeded to cut in to my right thumb while opening new hardware for a computer...

I should stop for the day now...and curl up fetal style under my desk.

X.

a Weekend well Spent

2009-05-17T09:48:00.003-04:00

Melanie vacuumed the house twice yesterday.

The first round was well in the afternoon--past 2 I believe. I had stopped home in the middle of one of my dozen car trips yesterday--

(...it all started at 8:30 when I went to Hartford, then back from Hartford for a quick shower, and then off to Manchester--where I was tardy, but I believe helpful in assisting Melissa clean up after a reception following the funeral of her mo-in-law, then home again---realizing I didn't have much else to do while Melanie cleaned so I went grocery shopping. Came home and unpacked and then headed out one last time to the Pike because Mel has been in need of soup. She was craving the tomato creme from Panera. And what with her raspy voice and dry cough, I thought it best to keep her happy)

--and she was in the middle of cleaning the entire house. Sick, but cleaning. I mean sick like some sort of (non swine related) cold--high on cough suppressant I'm sure. Nice. She also washed every odd piece of laundry. These would be things like the dog bed. Both the one in her crate and the one that we move around the house with us wherever we are so that she has a place to crash. Also, all of our bedding--rugs from the bathroom and the front door--and any item that wasn't literally nailed down..etc. etc. etc.

So she vacuumed. I thought nothing of it. Went on my way. I came home, we ate...watched the season finale of Grey's. I decided that since all of our linens were clean, I'd go ahead and take a second shower. Plus, it was damp outside and I felt.....moist.

Whilst I was in the shower, scrubbing my funk away I heard the vacuum again. Yes, again.

"Melanie...are you vacuuming the house a second time??"

I hear the vacuum shut off.

"Yes. There was something on the floor. Sand or something."

Vacuum turns back on. I resume lathering.

Aight then.

I had Melanie laughing for the rest of the evening, and she would look at me and smile when she caught me giving her a sarcastic glare,"Yes Crystal, I vacuumed the house twice today...."

hehehe.

I try to keep her from doing those things. Like if I go in the bedroom and see that the bean has dragged a flower petal in on her lip (which she is prone to do--as she hoovers the yard and gets shit caught up in her face)--I pick this stuff up so that Mel won't see it. If she sees one thing on the rug she will take the vacuum out. And then, she figures that while it's out she might as well go ahead and vacuum the rest of the house....even though she might have already done this 2 hours ago....

I've learned to kick my shoes off at the door for this reason as well. But it seems that with this wet ass damp ass weather, I can't keep the floor clean. I'm dragging shit in. The bean is dragging shit in. Hell, even Melanie is dragging shit in. She. is. not. perfect.

Nor does she claim to be.

Today is Sunday. I've canceled my newspaper subscription. Primarily because I wasn't reading on Thurs, Friday or Saturday. Sunday I was reading it, but found that I was doing so only because I felt like I was supposed to. Plus, the content has been so cut by the budget that it doesn't resemble the Courant that I fell in love with years ago anymore. And I'm sure my canceled subscription doesn't help that. I now get most of my news online anyway.....I guess it's okay...what I really want to do was sit in front of the television with my coffee anyway. I feel deprived of TV these days. Sick? I think so. But I love it. In fact I have the L word re-runs on while I type this. Sicker...I'm watching an episode that I watched an hour ago...again...why? I love the show. Immerse myself in it sometimes.

As I'm sitting crosslegged on the couch right now, I'm losing feeling in my feet.

So, off I go to unravel my legs. Maybe see if Melanie is going to join me in being awake....and not vacuum today. My plans include baking cookies, ironing, and maybe hitting up target for a bra.

X.

5:49 am without a plan.

2009-05-11T05:43:00.003-04:00

I have no idea what to bring for lunch today or what to wear. This is no good. And may explain why I was up at 3:30 staring at the window.

Generally when I'm preparing for bed every night I prep for the following day. I get the coffee maker ready so that all I have to do is turn it on and it brews. I choose my outfit. Place my bra, underwear and socks on my dresser so that I don't have to fish for them in the dark. I put the pants and shirt I'm going to wear with one another in the closet for ease. I don't always make what I'm going to eat for lunch, but I do know what I want and am able to put it together in a flash. But I'm thinking I might want salad today. And for that I should have prepped a little last night.

OH FUCKING WELL. And instead of getting a head start on everything and hopping in the shower early, I'm blogging.

The earth has clearly tilted on it's axis.

Here's to hoping that I don't go to work nude and hungry...(though, let's not fool ourselves--there's plenty of people praying this morning that I'll show up nude).

X.

A contradiction of footwear

2009-05-06T15:18:00.002-04:00

I peed on my dog today.

Yeah, I know--that's some fucked up shit.

Beau never did that. I mean, he'd check out what I was up to when I dropped my drawers--I'd squat to pee on a trail and he'd come over and sniff, and move on. Usually he'd see or smell enough not to care. But no, this one...the Bean, she must get a full on view of the action. And when I tried to move her, I think it got worse--I lost my footing. It was bad.

But it did inspire her to find a place to do her own business shortly thereafter.

I digress.

I just got a phone call from Melissa--she's my bff for all who aren't sure. The bookstore her partner manages is all over the news right now....no, really--turn on your tv. Some guy came in and shot a girl 3 times at point blank range. Thankfully, neither she or her partner were there.

wtf? I had no words when she told me this.

On top of other crappy shit happening in their lives right now, they're having a really really terribly no good shitty shitty week. seriously.

Oh, and you know what else? I just spent a good amount of money on a new pair of shoes. More than I'd normally spend. But I had to. I need some good shoes--I have foot issues. And guess what I realized when they came. They're made of leather. Yep. Good leather too. And they smell like it.

Jesus H.

I have other leather shoes. I bought them before the conversion, nearly 2 years ago. But here I sit with shiny new leather. Whatever shall I do? Oh, I know. WEAR THEM. Can't do anything about it now...

But it's got me thinking....

peace out.

X.

Random rantings of a genius

2009-04-28T19:25:00.003-04:00

My mind has been ABLAZE with genius blog posts. But what happens when I find a minute to sit in front of the computer? I go blank. I get distracted by facebook or work. And then next thing I know Melanie is hollering for me to join her in front of the TV.

So, here is a snippit of my thoughts from this past week...or two...or however long it's taken me to actually spit out my thoughts...

1. To dudes who ride motorcycles without shirts...wearing shorts and no helmet: The town where you die would like to thank you for donating your flesh to repaving their roads. Retards.

2. Bea Arthur died this week. Fucking broke my heart. I've seen every episode of "The Golden Girls" numerous times. Seriously, I can quote those bitches. I loved them soooo much. And for some reason, losing this actress makes me feel like a piece of my history just died. Weird?

3. Do you think that chicks who wear sweatpants with writing across their butt--like the word "sexy" or "cutie"-- are expecting people to look? Cuz I do....and sometimes, I even stare. So EXCUSE ME if you catch me looking....

4. On Sunday Morning I awoke at 6:00 am to the Bean asking to potty. And that was her first time asking since the night before. She slept all the way through the night. MIRACLE?? I think so. Well, it was a miracle until Sunday night when she slept sporadically until 4:30am....small victories, as Melissa would say. Last night after having a couple of vaccines, she slept pretty hard. I wish puppies got vaccines daily.

5. Discovering new things to put in coffee makes me very happy. Last weekend I dropped an Andes mint in. Let it melt. Mixed it up. Pretty freaking delicious. And since I seem to like mint more and more as I age--more specifically ming with chocolate--and chocolate with coffee, it was a pleasant surprise. Go me.

6. I life about 3 or so blocks from a firehouse. One of the bigger ones in our town. In fact, we pay separate taxes to the fire district. Great. They use their sirens constantly when they pass our complex. Like the loudest sirens they have on those trucks. And we back up to a residential neighborhood. But they make themselves SO FREAKING LOUD!! And I don't understand why?? Don't you really only need a siren if you need someone to move or something? Or if you have a dying body in an ambulance? Not if you're going through a back road where there's not really any intersections....I'm convinced they could just get away with turning on the crazy lights so that people can tell they are going to an emergency. The noise..it's...unnecessary in the suburbs. And it irritates the SHIT out of me.

Next, and finally...

7. I've been in search of the perfect summer shoes. Shoes that I can wear to work...something comfortable and.....well...khaki colored. Melanie and I were discussing this in the car last night. And I was talking about how much I like the color of light sand. And then it hit me. I've been lying to myself for years. I always claimed that my favorite color was green. But it's not. It's khaki. I mean jesus, I have every shade of that color in my closet. My dead dog was khaki. My new shoes will be khaki. The entire world would be a better place if the people were khaki colored.....

And those are my rants for this week. Hopefully, someday, I'll be back to getting my thoughts down on a daily basis. But until I can find the time--please take this one thought with you...

"It isn't pollution that's harming our environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." -Dan Quayle

Peace out
X

likes and dislikes

2009-04-14T05:50:00.003-04:00

When I finished my leftover Indian food last night I realized that I hadn't wanted it to end.
I LOVE Indian food. So I thought of 10 I love and how I hate when they end. And then conversely 10 things that I love to end.

Favorites are as follows:

1. Indian Food
2. Ice Cream
3. Chocolate Chip Cookies
4. Sleeping
5. Showering
6. Anne of Green Gables
7. The L Word
8. Six Feet Under (Elf watch the last season--your life is not complete until you do)
9. Pizza
10. Summer

Things that should have never begun:

1. Green Beans
2. American Idol
3. Winter
4. Menstruation
5. Organized religion
6. The Wind
7. The common cold
8. Jobs
9. The New Black Panther Party
10. Sarah Palin

Happy Tuesday.

X

Money

2009-04-12T11:17:00.003-04:00

On Sundays the Hartford Courant runs a money section of the New York times in their Consumer section. I love that section, and find myself spending probably more time there than anywhere else.

This morning there was an article about how money seems to be what couples fight about the most. I scoffed and noted that Mel and I don't fight about money. At all. We never ever have. And it seems strange that we ever could.

Yet, I see couples around me who fight about it. And I don't get it. Wouldn't two people who are serious about getting into a relationship sit down and figure out what each outlook is regarding their finances. There are so many different ways to approach it, and if you don't see eye to eye with your partner. There can be hell to pay. Especially when you share a mortgage, a car...the light bill...

When Melanie and I first met, neither of us has much debt. I believe she had a small student loan that she was paying on. But nothing as far as credit cards, and in fact, she had a decent savings. A steady job in fact. She also lived alone. Shared rent with nobody, and was self-sustaining. I was impressed.

I had not much of anything. Debt or money. I was living on the fly. I would cash my paycheck every week, pay a bill or two and then spend the rest on beer and cigarettes. I had a defunct credit card that my father was paying off. And another that I had but didn't use because I'd been traumatized by the first one. Don't we all have one like that? Where we spent far too much on far too many things we didn't need when we were 18?

When Melanie and I moved in together, she would not allow me to pay half of the rent. I will never forget this. She said to me that she "never wants to have to rely on someone else to help pay the rent." Apparently she had been in a bad break up years ago. He moved out, she couldn't stay.

So I agreed to take over a couple of the bills.

To me, Mel was a catch. A mentor. And when I finally got a real job, making closer to what an adult should make, and when Melanie realized that I wasn't going to ditch her (because I'd be STUPID)--we agreed that we needed a bigger place, and we wanted a dog. So we cashed in on some of the money we'd been saving and got both.

Throughout all of this time, we maintained 2 separate bank accounts. Melanie would pay her personal bills, like her cellphone on her own. I didn't butt in. Didn't care. That was her stuff. I did the same. Every month we'd each make a check out for half of the rent.

And I realized over time that because we were both pinching pennies and cheap as hell, that we could afford to make even another change. We were bringing in enough money each month, that there was no reason we couldn't spike for a mortgage.

At that point Melanie and I realized that I would take over the finances. As over time, I'd seem to become a little obsessive about organizing the money. It's amazing how financial goals inspire that. We would still keep individual checking and savings accounts but I would take from her every pay check, what was needed for bills/savings. Whatever was left over was hers.

And that is how it is to this day. And over the years as our jobs have changes. Our income has changed. And I always make adjustments. Whomever is making more money at the time, will pay more in bills, that way neither of us has more spending money than the other.

Whenever I feel like we've taken a hit financially. An unexpected car repair, or vet bill. Which happens. Whenever I feel anxious that we can't make it. Then Mel and I sit in the office, look at everything--and we come to a decision. We figure it out. We move something from savings. Or cut back on dinners out. It ALWAYS works.

And it's a nice reassurance in life.

X.

An Easter Miracle

2009-04-11T16:22:00.003-04:00

I drove up behind an older blue pickup truck this morning on the way to work. There was junk in the back window. Coffee cups, papers, what looked like a couple of beer cans. And right there on the back window, a sticker that read "trust Jesus."

When I pulled out and passed the driver, it was an older white guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I guess he supposes that Jesus is going to save him from being sloppy and for laughing in the face of cancer (not that I don't smoke on occasion, but I don't count on Jesus to be there to pick up the pieces).

In the spirit of Easter, I thought I'd share something I watched yesterday for awhile on IFC. It was called "Jesus in India." It told of Jesus spending years in India and Tibet between the ages of 12 and 30, and eventually going there after his crucifixion to heal. That's right. There is a possibility that the dude lived after being nailed to a cross. Could happen.

They say he was taken down and traveled to India. During this journey, his mother, Mary...she passed on. There was a tomb for several years in Afghanistan or Pakistan or some such place, but it's said that a bunch of Christian pains in the asses destroyed it--because they wanted her to have been dead and buried in Jerusalem or some such nonsense.

So this dude comes back however much time later, healed. And THIS could explain why they think he rose from the dead...

Anyway, I found it interesting. Watched as much as I could until Melanie came in and recommended we watch Saw V......bad...bad movie.

I've always been fascinated by Jesus. And even so in more recent years when I found out that he was just a dude, and not so much the savior of the universe. I mean, I don't believe him to be my savior...and that's okay for those of you who do...even though I may feel very strongly that it's a giant mound of bullsnot.

Personally my savior is chocolate. Bike rides. Walking.....cuddling with Melanie. My faith lies in my own ability to take care of myself and my family.

Happy Easter.

X.

And then it hit me...

2009-04-10T14:01:00.002-04:00

...like a freight train to the heart.

And I don't normally condone my sharing such feelings with those who read my blog...but whatev's...I needed to write it out.

I've been in one of the funkiest funks of all X time. It's retarded. And I can't put my finger on one thing that's causing it, because it seems like EVERYTHING is causing it. I'm getting frustrated with my breakfast cereal because I've managed to spill it two mornings in a row. I'm pissed at the dog because she's a puppy (like she can help it). I'm pissed at Beau for dying. Pissed at work for being demanding of my time. Pissed at my bills for needing to be paid. Pissed at the weather for not warming up fast enough. Not being sunny enough. Just fucking pissed. Nobody can fix it.

I keep thinking back to when I felt normal. When life was just life and I let it be. Feels like a lifetime ago that I was simplifying. But it wasn't. It was probably just a few months ago.
THAT recently.

Today I'm home from work because I've already managed to work 40 hours and still have 4 more to go tomorrow. If I didn't break it up somewhere--the wife may be looking for a divorce. I miss her. I see her. But it's not for long. And it's not often.

Can you read this bullshit? I'm literally making myself sick with the complaining...

But it gets better. I swear.

So I'm home with Ms. Echo, the dog who I've been threatening to send down the river. This morning she was doing regular 11 week old puppy things--when she decided to yank the cable wire from the wall...tear out some nails and consequently dismantle the little end that goes in to the wall. Killing the cable connection I'd set up from across our bedroom.

Good Lord!

I took her out. Made her pee, and then I went to Walmart to catch a break. Yes, to have some alone time...Walmart early in the morning is quiet and...yes, for me, kind of peaceful. I browse and sometimes find good deals on clearance, like work out shorts or some shit.

Walmart was NOT quiet today....I forgot it's Good Friday. I forgot most people are off from work, and they are taking this time to buy easter candy and gifts. *exhaustive sigh* They've even gotten an early start...just to be there when the schmucks like me have decided to pick up toilet paper and kitty litter.

FAHK!

I felt a headache starting....

By the time I got home, the headache was in full bloom. I popped an Excedrin and took the dog to pee. The sun was out. She ran a little. I let her chase me.....and I decided we needed to have a good walk.

And off we went down westlake. Walking like old buddies. For a dog with 4 inch legs, she kept right up with me. Stayed by my side. Stayed focused. We walked, we ran a little. I looked down at her as we were heading home and I had a realization....

I need her. When I was outside walking with her I felt almost normal again. I was thinking about my stress while I walked. Letting it go because I was so proud of how she was doing. Remembering how good it felt to have a little unit attached to a leash--a little unit who is totally head over heels in love with you. I wasn't missing the pair of headphones I'd had plugged into my ears when I walked....I hate walking alone....more than you'll know.

So, instead of fighting whatever grief I have lingering--instead of being angry at my job for not making sense and at the weather for raining and my cereal for jumping out of my bowl, I'm going to walk the dog...

I'm going to fix it.......and simplify.

X.

puppyhood with Bean the Piranha

2009-04-07T18:51:00.004-04:00

Potty training a puppy is, in the words of Jovan, "STOOOOPID!"

I forget the frustration that comes with knowing that they have to pee. Bringing them outside to do their business--and swearing at the tiny little thing because they won't.
They don't want to pee outside. Why do that when there is a perfectly nice soft rug inside that can be peed on?

Or how about her favorite place to drop trow and sqeeze a cleveland steamer? Right in front of the fire place. Or if she's feeling extra sassy, right in front of Melanie's Closet.

The poops are little enough though at this point.

Before we brought Echo home, we thought we knew the things she would want to chew. Maybe the corner of a table or the skirt around the couch. But we didn't prepare for some things....like the wall...or the fireplace broom. She's a pug, not a flipping Lab.

Maybe she thinks she's a lab....

Well, Mel just came in from trying to get her to pee. No luck. I should expect a tiny puddle behind the dining room table in a few....can't wait.

here's a pic of her trying to kill Vince's foot. And then another one of her after she crashes. My favorite time.

Peace out. X and Bean

The Anti-Remix

2009-04-02T18:26:00.005-04:00

Yo.

I'm currently battling a killer case of the hiccups. This isn't just some passing hiccup or two. No. It seems to have invaded my cardiovascular system...it hurts. And I can't make them stop...

Digression.

This morning I was laying in bed at 7:15 with a small, tiny little black dog. I was dozing. Comfortable.

And I didn't care.

I don't seem to care about much right now. I'm in a small depression that I'm not forcing myself out of...unless I have to. But for now, I feel that it's necessary to feel it.

Now, I was off from work for a li'l bit. And last week I did my regular getting up early and still working out routine. And Monday when I awoke, I went with the snooze, and took another hour or so for myself. I still went to work out, but there was a problem with the dvd, so I didn't. I just said 'fuck it' and had breakfast. I then wound up finding one of Jillian's new workouts on Exercise tv and did that. It was good. Gave myself a little ass kicking. I love new workouts.
And it made me realize that I REALLY need a new work out. I'm bored, and I think my muscles are bored...

So, I decided I'd go on hiatus until I can find a new work out

Tuesday morning I slept until I damn well decided to get up. It was 7ish. And that's great. I felt rested. Normal. Not so rushed about life. I had this moment where I thought that I should change my work hours and come in at 8:30 instead of 7:30, just so I could sleep more.

It feels good.

I feel a little like a bum--but it is what it is.

I will take some time off. Work on a new plan of action for exercising. And hopefully meet myself at 5am with something new within the next few weeks.

As long as I can stay away from ice cream and doritos, I'll be in good shape.

X.

High Tension; Low Likeability

2009-03-28T18:35:00.002-04:00

When I'm not at work, I like myself so much more.

When I'm there, I'm frustrated, micro-managing, I'm a mess.

When I'm home. I'm the regular me. With some weird ass shit mixed in, but overall-just me.

I haven't really taken a good chunk of time off since back in July when I went all out and took 2 weeks. I did take some time during the holidays, but it was sporadic, and I suffered an immense, stressful loss in my life.

I was supposed to be off a few days last week and then some in to next week, but alas, one of my staff called out sick 3x and then decided she would call out indefinitely. YAY. This, while I had another person on vacation. That left little chance for me to have my time off as planned. But I took it in stride. Complained a bit. Cried a little. screamed at nothing...and took it like a man. Okay--at times, I took it like a small child. In fact, I'm still hung up on the fact that someone who worked for ME would quit on voicemail...

Anyway. So, for me...for my pretty low key life. I've had a stressful couple of weeks. Not to mention the introduction of a new member of the family...who, as I type this, is being coerced by my other half to poop in the great outdoors...

Bringing a puppy, or any animal home always adds a touch of stress. There's that period of adjustment when everyone is getting to know each other. Or, more like, I'm getting to know when she does the "I'm going to take a shit on the rug instead of the laminate floor" dance.

I have taught her to sit already. In fact, when we come in from pooping or peeing--I tell her to sit, and she does, regardless of what way she is facing. So she'll come in. turn around, I'll say sit, and there she is, staring at the door....

It does make me feel a little more like me to be off from work with a puppy around. I work well with dogs. Not that I'm sucky with people. But the dogs are more understanding of my insensitivity. I dig that.

I just need more time off. I'm going to plan to extend the time I take when Elf and I go to florida. Maybe I'll take the week after off too so that I can chill.

I need to chill more.

Getting along with ME is priority 1.

X.

Bra Burning

2009-03-27T11:58:00.002-04:00

I went to Wal-mart a short time ago....okay like an hour and a half ago.

I left Echo in her crate. This is still relatively new, so I was a little anxious about it. Either way, off I went.

I thought that while I was there I could scrape up a new bra. It seems that my regular bra has developed a hole in it. And the longer I put off buying a new one, the bigger the hole is getting.

"Does she only have one bra?" You're asking yourself.

Well. No.

I have plenty of bras. But only one that I wear. I only like this one bra. And now that I am getting closer to the day I can't wear it, I'm in a fast dash to find the exact same one and buy a few of them so that I don't put myself in this predicament again.

It's a work bra. This means that it's not a sports bra--which I wear when I'm not working. Literally. I wake, put on a sports bra--work out. Shower, put on a work bra--go to work, come home take off all of my clothes and put back on the sports bra. If I'm working a short shift, or if it's a weekend, I have on my sports bra.

work bras are stupid.

And really, I'm not so endowed that I can't get away from it.

So---the point of this is that I went to the bra section and browsed. Figured I'd find what I want and move on. I'm pretty sure I'm a 36 A---ish. The B cup can run a little big on me. Depends on the brand I guess. So I'm looking...looking....looking.....A? A? A? Anywhere? I didn't see any. So then I"m like...well, a B will work I guess. I'll just try it on...B? B? B?

what the fuck?

Where are all the small chested women? OR is it that there are so many of them that they've bought out the small cup sizes.

Frustrated, I started to look at other styles and was immediately turned off....

I hate bras. We should burn the bitches.

On with the duct tape.

REEEEEEEmiX.

I'm weak

2009-03-23T12:01:00.002-04:00

And I'm jumping OFF of the moving wagon.

Chocolate here I come....

X.

********
Update: 25 minutes after posting this I then opened a dark chocolate bliss with the intention
of putting it in my mouth.

then it hit me that I'm weak, so I threw it away and ate jelly beans.

Never fell off that wagon... though, today of all days would be the perfect time.

Could I whine any more?

2009-03-17T05:44:00.003-04:00

I don't know when it was that I decided to deprive myself of pleasure.

As of next month it will be a year since I was maintaining what I consider to be an unhealthy amount of caffeine in my body. Nowadays I just have maybe a cup of caffeinated coffee a week, and that's if I even remember to do it. I'll pick a day that really sucks my ass and have a nice afternoon pick me up, complete with a false sense of joy and contentment. It's nice.

I'm a year and a half into living the pescatarian lifestyle. And as of last week I'm going through another phase where I don't want vegetables. I think I over did it on salads for a few weeks there...so now I'm in overdrive with fruits and V8. But again, last night I was watching unwrapped on food network and they were doing burgers. And I wanted one. And it brought me back to Sunday when I had a 15 minute dialogue with my inner self about going back to meat. Maybe I could make sure that all I consumed was "organic" or natural or what the fuck ever. This was while I was transporting a buffalo chicken pizza from the restaurant to my home. In my truck cab with the smell of buffalo chicken and cheese wafting to my eager nose.

yum.

But then I had a quick flash of death and sadness and sickness and poor cows and chickens. And then reality smashed me in the face. And my poor bleeding heart dripped a little. And I was content with the meatless grinder I had purchased for myself. It sat happily and simply atop the pizza box.

And then there's chocolate (which I can go back to on easter...I have great plans for that day) and cigarettes and danish. The latter two of which I'll consume in moderation. Actually, I don't think I've had a danish since I was on the heavier side.

It just gets kind of depressing to think I can't ever have these things. Or that I can only have one every so often. It hurts my feelings. And that's when I get into these internal conflicts about how I only live once why don't I let myself do what I want. But then if I do what I want I may not live long enough in this only life...

I'll tell you what I want right now:

a shower
cereal
and a grapefruit.

And jesus H. if I won't give myself that.

X

Complications of a Simple life

2009-03-16T05:44:00.003-04:00

Who likes the yellow and green jelly beans? Like seriously. Do you think anyone would be willing to discard red and purple for them?

You never hear anyone say "Hey, I'll have a yellow one..."

Same with life savers, or Popsicles.

Whenever I eat jellybeans (which is A LOT around this time of year)--I segregate by color. Can't help it. I organize all of my jellys by color and start with my least favorite--usually green or yellow. And sometimes orange. I guess orange is like Y...sometimes a vowel. But never the favorite.

So I eat my beans one color at a time. Usually starting with my least favorite. Yellow. Then green. Orange. Black. Purple white and red are my faves. NOW it should be noted that I don't think they put as much of my favorite colors in as they do the gross flavors.

Out of every handful that I grab and organize, there is always about 10% more of the crap colors. Is there a national crisis of grape flavor?

Or maybe it's Brach's way of keeping customers--willing to buy bag after bag to get more of the red flavor. What is the red flavor?? I don't know--cherry or something. Everyone always likes cherry.

They should do a bag of just red white and purple. I'd buy that bag. And I'd be really happy about it too. But I'd still organize. And in time, I imagine I'd push aside the white and in a matter of months, I'd be upset that they even bother adding white to the bag...

it's Monday.

X

Even Porn Sites Outsource

2009-03-13T06:17:00.004-04:00

And so, someone decided to use my debit/credit card number to buy online porn, gas, video games and god knows what else...

I called the company who manages the card last Saturday morning when I realized what had happened. This was after doing a little research and calling a support line for an "adult website" who had charged my card a couple of times-- I should note here that this call center was in India.

I can't think of any other word to use but irritated. It's just extra stupid. I had to have my card immediately canceled. Leaving me without my debitcard/left arm. I use that thing all the time. Cash is so archaic. Tuesday I went to the bank to deposit a check...and then made a withdrawal for cash to pay for gas and who knows what the heck else for the rest of the week.

Is this how our forefathers lived? I remember being a kid. Hell, even a younger adult and going with my father to his bank to take out money for the week. That dude always dealt in cash. I remember him getting a debit card (maybe only a few years ago) and not getting the whole concept, and still insisting on having cash.

Well, back to last Saturday. I put the hold on the card. went over charges with the guy on the phone and we were able to pare down what wasn't mine--he told me those charges would go in a "Fraud File" or some shit and wouldn't be taken out of my account. But I was still paranoid and watched my account all week.

Wouldn't you know...one of the charges he and I discussed went through ---NOW I have to go to the bank and fill out paperwork to get my money back. Going inside the bank is so weird. All of that human interaction and whatnot.

While I'm there I'll need cash for an oil change and any other activities I may take part in this weekend.

Though, might I say--keeping cash on hand shows sound fiscal judgment. Because when I'm at the bank I'll think "well, I need $20 for a quick grocery trip and $17 for gas and maybe a few more bucks for incidentals." Take out $60 and that's my spending money for the week. That's it. Without the ability to whip out my debit card, I won't over spend...

Maybe I'm on to something.

Maybe debit cards are what have caused the financial crisis...

X

Sponsor Remix

2009-03-04T10:53:00.001-05:00

It's never too early to beg.

Sponsor me in my walk this year...

please?

The elf is exempt because she loves V more than she loves me.

Dreams and Dog Beds

2009-02-28T11:18:00.002-05:00

My dreams are crazy.

This morning I had dreams that I will not share. Most of the dreams were fine, but in parts I was doing inexplicable things, to inexplicable people.

Take that one where you must.

I remember my dreams like a sonofabitch. I sometimes try to figure out what they mean, but mostly the meaning presents itself pretty clearly. Like the recurring dreams I continue to have about Beau. Easy to identify the meaning, but frustrated that they still insist on coming.

Sometimes I'll dream--and it's a great dream. Wild. Fun. Exciting. But then when I wake, I can't remember a damn thing.

When I take something like Nyquil, I don't dream. I just sleep. Knocked out and drooling on the pillow. I did this the other night. Slept all night. Never moved. I awoke in the same posisition I fell asleep in.

Yeah, this wasn't what I was going to blog on...and, on top of that, I don't remember what I wanted to blog on today.

I'm sitting. Staring at 7-11. Same view I've had for more years than I care to remember.

3 weeks from tomorrow, our puppy Echo will be coming home. I have a lot of weird mixed feelings about her. She's so little and cute and expensive. And in puppyhood, she'll be especially endearing, which is important. It will keep me from wanting to flush her down the toilet after eating through an electrical cord or a shoelace. And I'm excited to have a dog around again. But in the same breath, because I HATE CHANGE--I'm nervous and sad. I guess it's all pretty normal....

Melanie has been collecting puppy supplies--a crate, chew toys, some weird snuggle thing for puppies that you heat up in the microwave and give them to sleep with...makes them feel like their cuddling with their mother's teet or some shit. We also found a bed for her crate. We threw it down on the ground and since then Socks has claimed it.

It's funny actually. She got in it right away and started kneading it and sat right down. She took ownership... Last night we put it between Mel and I while we watched tv and she jumped up and streched out in it. I left it there on the couch when we went to sleep, and this morning when I got up, she was asleep in it--on the couch.

We may have to get a new bed for the crate.

Cheers to Saturday.

X.

Waking up is hard to do...even for me.

2009-02-25T05:30:00.003-05:00

Why is waking up my least favorite thing ever?

Once I'm up. I'm fine. It's that moment of deciding to pry myself away from Melanie. Away from the comfort, the warmth, the smell. I have to rip it off like a band aid. Every morning it's like this. And I don't remember if waking up before she came in to my life was any easier. I think it's just crappy to get out of bed in general.

And this doesn't just go for weekday mornings when I stare at the clock in disbelief at 4:50 am--knowing that I'll be dragging my ass out of the warm bed with in 10 minutes. This also applies on weekends. I wake up without a problem--no alarm needed. But the bed is so comfortable. The cat is purring next to me. Why leave this? What finally gets me up on weekends is the stuff I want to get done. Even if it's just making coffee and catching up on some tv....I look forward to it.

But then there's GOING to bed. I LOVE going to bed. It's one of my favorite things to do every day. In fact. Of all the things I do daily, going to bed is by far the best thing. I love falling asleep. Laying there knowing that I have a fresh 8 hours to fill with sleeping. Dreaming.

And I don't fuck that up. I don't go to bed in the middle of the day. I don't even go to my bed in the middle of the day. That is sacred. With all the years of training myself to sleep--I've finally got it down to a science. And getting up promptly when I wake is part of that.

Too much sleep can interrupt my ability to go to sleep....

time to shower.

X.

Blah. Blah. Freaking BLAH!

2009-02-22T16:12:00.004-05:00

I made snicker doodles today. Did push ups between batches.

They came out okay. Nothing special. I don't even think I've ever had a snicker doodle before today. If I did, it was forgettable. In fact, I think mine are forgettable.

I'll eat them. But without chocolate chips or some form of chocolate...I don't get it.

It's like fruit for dessert. I don't get it. Fruit is good for breakfast or as a healthy snack, but don't try to fool me by calling it dessert....mom....

Speaking of chocolate. I'm giving it up for lent. Shit, that gives me the rest of today and tomorrow to get it all in.

I'm not even religious.

I just like a chance to test myself. I eat a lot of chocolate.

Melanie just yelled from the other room that she's ready for supper.

It's 4:23. And Sunday. So, I guess it's about that time.

I know. This post is pure genius.

And don't you forget it!

X.

SUBSTITUTION!

2009-02-13T19:29:00.002-05:00

Last week while strolling through the grocer I was reminding myself that my half & half supply was mighty low.

I looked at every brand per usual. Sometimes the sales are a better deal than the name brand. Really, unless I'm at the Walmart--it's all a rip off...

Scanning the options, my eyes fell on the fat free version of my favorite creamer.

Over the last few years I've gotten used to choosing the lower calorie version of things. This could range from having half of a sandwich, to having NO butter. From having a serving size of cereal instead of an entire bowl to making an omelet without yolks.

And for the most part I've been successful. One of my biggest success stories is how I completely converted to diet soda. Which, in itself forced me to drink probably 90% less soda due to the fact that I don't like diet soda as much.

Back to the creamer.

I used to drink light cream. This is what dunkin donuts uses in their coffee. And I drank that coffee daily for years. Even after that, when I discovered Seattle's Best. I would go and buy light cream. That stuff is soooooo good in coffee.

But then I realized that half & half has a few less calories per tablespoon. And really it doesn't make a HUGE difference.

So now, I'm trying to work on my winter/holiday weight--which really only comes in at 6 lbs. And truthfully, only 3 lbs more than I'm comfortable at. You laugh, but I'm detail oriented like that.

So, I bought the fat free version. Tried it in a cup of coffee and realized it tastes like shit. I even tried it in a second cup of coffee, and confirmed it tastes like shit.

Fat is what makes cream wonderful.

Later the same day.....yes, the same day I tried the fat free crap--I bought the full fat crap.

Some things just can't be replaced.

X.

Winter Crazies

2009-02-07T19:54:00.006-05:00

Saturday morning. Going to be 40 ish degrees. I needed a walk.

I think I'm going crazy from lack of fresh air. I'm becoming paranoid.

"Mel, do you still love me?" I ask her while she's barely awake.

I've convinced myself, laying in bed that she's not touching me this morning because in the night she has fallen out of love with me. Who would want such a needy, whining, paranoid narcissist?

"Yes." she says and touches my arm as she falls back to sleep.

She really does. She's not lying. I'm simply delusional and over-thinking EVERYTHING.

I lay there for a minute this morning trying to figure out if I should just get up and go walk. Bundle up and get my ass in gear. There's some serious cabin fever setting in with X. No fresh air, not enough exercise. Mel has been looking at me periodically and saying, "You don't look right."

"Me?"

I got out of bed.

I didn't take a walk immediately. I farted around until the Elf called me stating that she'd be canceling due to tuberculosis or SARS, or something. (kidding elf ;) I know we'll have way more fun when you're better). So with that I had a blank slate.

What to do? WALK!

"Mel, we need to take a hike or something. I'm going crazy."

"Okay." Was all she needed to say. But I know what she was thinking was "Yes. You are."

We had other errands to run, but this was by far the most important. By February most years I've ventured out in the snow a few times to hike. Enough to stabilize me until March. But now, without a buddy who requires the activity, I'm less bound to go out in sub zero temperatures. But today. Oh yes. Today. 41 degrees.

We went to the Wadsworth Mansion in Middletown. There's a short mile and a half-ish trail that's pretty nice. There are some good old trees, and a creepy slab of concrete that I check out almost every time I'm there. Could have been a house back in the day, or maybe an altar to Satan. Either way it's creepy.....

Whitetail deer can often be seen running away from us hikers. Today Mel and I were looking at their tracks in the snow. I'm always so amazed at how little their prints are, and how big assed they are.

I love all animals. But there are a select few that hold me close. Deer are one of them...

Today we saw one cross the trail ahead of us, and then go down the embankment. She met a herd of about 8 more and they stared at me and Mel like our heads were on fire. Melanie made a noise like she was calling a dog and they all ran a little before stopping. Realizing of course that it was just some insane hiker hoping one of them would come up sniff her...

Reminds me of that weirdo zoo my mom used to bring Sean to with the 3 legged deer who harassed us for food.

This evening we went and did some fun shopping. Poking around LL Bean and such. We got to walk out doors a little more. And by the time we were done for the day, we realized that we really needed it. We felt invigorated. I no longer felt the need to overanalyze every thought Melanie was having or every word she spoke.

And I now realize that my insanity was/is from a delusion I'm going to call "The Winter Crazies." Not to be confused with seasonal affective disorder.

Now that I know how to combat it, I'm in better shape.

In fact, the WORLD is in better shape.

X

Cuz Foo asked

2009-02-06T07:46:00.004-05:00

I should really put something up in genius at work. But...I got nothing. Nothing that can be read by anyone other than me.

Yesterday I was off from work...today too. Melanie and I are probably going on a date today. Maybe a matinée (is that how it's spelled? what a gay word). We haven't been on a date in awhile actually...it's not that I don't see her, it's that we haven't just been out together for something other than grocery shopping, visiting with family, or having dinner with friends.

So, with my spare time I did some shopping. Picked up things that needed picking up. They included the following:

Air Filter for the house
Toilet paper (which I just bought last week and am stunned at how fast we go through this stuff...)
Dryer sheets
Yogurt (another item we blow through like air)
A surge protecting power strip (The UPS I bought nearly 5 years ago shit the bed last week when I was fooling around with the circuits...um...whoops)

I also picked up some more food items at stop and shop. The most boring of boring food items...I won't even divulge what they were.

I came home and cleaned a li'l. Nothing stupendous. Enough so that when Melanie came home, she felt that she could relax. I then sat down in the living room with a cup of decaf and the paper.

I was glancing over Rell's new budget and had some tv on. I was multitasking. Reading and watching.

But in the end, the TV won. Charlotte's web came on. The one that was made just a few years ago. The live action one. I watched the entire thing. Pushed the newspaper and all it's depressing news out of my way and snuggled up with the cat. Who, these days, insists on laying on my torso whilst she cleans her ass and feet.....

I cried like a small child at the end. I cried like I didn't know what happened to that damn spider. Jesus....

Then I went to dinner with a couple of work friends. Was home by 7:30, in pjs by 7:50, and falling asleep during Fringe by 9:15. Way to go X.

This weekend will be fun. Tomorrow we will celebrate the Elf's birthday, and if things pan out, I may see my mother's 1st baby daddy on Sunday morning. Who knows.

Happy Friday.

X

Hump Day

2009-02-04T05:44:00.002-05:00

A racquetball game goes to 15. It's very similar to volleyball. You must win by more than 2 points.

Getting to 15, for most people is a pretty quick deal. It should take no more than 1 hour to complete 2 games and a third tie breaking game (to 11) if needed.

For Vince and I, getting to 15 is like pulling a tooth out of concrete. We can return most everything the other person puts at us. Last night's match was 3 games to 15. He won the first, I won the second. And he barely sqeaked by with a win on the third. Making him the champion.

Vince wins most of the time because I begin to lose confidence if he gets ahead, he's taller than me, and I believe him to be more athletic than me. He's also younger than me by about 7 years, but I will NOT use that as an excuse.

I'm far better looking than him...I think...

I'll have to take a poll on that today.

I'm in a fantastic mood today. Actually have been so far this week.

Reasons why:

My little dsl/networking project at work. DONE! --right along with a few other projects that have been sitting stagnant on my plate. Love that.

I'm off tomorrow and Friday just because. I'm hoping to wash the filthy car and catch up on some sweatpants time. I was due to take about a week and a half off this month but am saving time for.....what brings me to the next point.

In the coming weeks Mel and I will be choosing a puppy. He/She was born last week and won't be ready to come home until early spring--and I'll take some vacation time then. It's exciting to look to the future. And it's helping me to deal with my loss from a different angle.

Moving forward it always a good thing.

Happy Fucking Wednesday.

X

Receipts Gone Wrong

2009-01-31T16:20:00.005-05:00

I use my debit card a lot. More than I'd like. Frankly, I prefer to use cash--but it's just so deeeyam easy to use the debit.

With this, I need to keep track every time I use my debit card--of course this is to balance out my check book with freakish perfection.

I carry a card holder. Not a wallet. Not a purse. Just something with my necessary cards.

These include (though change from time to time) the following:

Driver's license
Social Security Card
Debit/Check Card
Stop and Shop Card (full size)
Dental Insurance Card
Health Insurance Card
AAA Card
2 Registered Starbucks cards (one with approx $1.26 on it, the other with $0.00 on it)
Shaw's Card (mini size)
Library Card (mini size)

All cash is carried in my front right pocket. This includes change. It's usually comprised of between 1 and 20 bucks. Any more than that means it's Friday night and the funds will be spent frivolously on fried food and beer.

Where was I going with this?

...
.....
......

Oh yes. So, when I get a receipt after having made a debit purchase, I put it in my card holder so that I may track it in my check register. I used to track everything on an excel spreadsheet that did the math for me until my hard drive had a hiccup and then I realized the safest way to balance is in a good old handy dandy, trusty dusty check register.....

some things are best not handled electronically.

My card holder can only hold so many receipts. And sometimes if I've made a few purchases in a row it starts to thicken with the girth of these receipts--which are folded in half and shoved between cards.

So it is at this point that I feel it necessary to show you this:

On the left you see a receipt from walmart, it quickly lists each of the 24 items I purchased yesterday. It utilizes most of the space on the receipt. It's easily foldable and shoved in my card holder.

On the right you see a receipt from Shaw's. I purchased 4 items that day. And can recall them from memory. 1 loaf of foccacia bread. 2 caffeine free diet pepsis and a box of triscuits. They were on sale 2/$4, which is a sweet deal.

WHY IN FREAKING HELL IS THE RECEIPT FOR 4 ITEMS 2X THE SIZE OF THE RECEIPT FOR 24 ITEMS??

Again, I only have so much room in my card holder. The world can only produce so many trees. And there's only so many places I need to see how much I saved today......

X.

I'm no Marion Jones....well, no, I'm not....really.

2009-01-27T05:42:00.003-05:00

I ran a mile yesterday after work in our fitness center.

Keep that in your brain while I wander a touch down memory lane.

*Imagine some warbly screen action as I fade away and my former 260 lb self comes into view*

Now, at 260, I'd already realized I needed to lose weight, and was down about 40 pounds. Proud? I think so. I'd really only lost this weight by using an atkins jump start and by kicking my soda habit. In fact, I credit my first 60 lb loss to giving up regular soda. Shows how much I was taking in.

I decided that I needed to start adding exercise to my life. I'd done some circuit training when I was still in college. Sprinting, lifting, sprinting, cigarette, lifting, beer. And thought maybe I'd go back to that. So Mel and I invested in a treadmill. This would give me the privacy to work out in my own house.

And so I started. Probably 4 or 5 days a week after work. I'd put the tv on and just walk away. I'd run a little, walk a little. Eventually I was running a lot and walking a little. But there was pain. In my knee. My hips. My shins. That was the worse. Stupid running. I don't think I'm built for it. I mean, have you ever seen me? I more closely resemble a gorilla over a cheetah (like that Elf?).

So after awhile, the treadmill collected more dust then it did sweat. And I'm not about waste, so, I sold the monstrosity. It took up a lot of space anyway. I used the cash made to buy an elliptical machine. The most BORING workout ever. That thing lasted even less time in my office. I think I had it out of here in 6 months. Retarded thing.

That was when I discovered tae bo and then consequently Jillian Michaels. I've been doing these for over 2 years now. Changing videos as I change my needs and so on. And in the last two years I've dropped to my goal weight and am in, most likely, the best shape of my life.

So during this time. My weight loss and fitness goals have all been reached in the privacy of my own home. Except for maybe racquetball, but I don't count that as exercise. It's fun. Like hiking.
I don't go to a gym. I don't work out in public. And this stems primarily from when I was rather large and probably a little embarrassed.

So yesterday, I decided that I needed to walk after work. It's what I used to do. Every day. Rain or shine, 90 degrees or 5. And I miss it. I mean, I miss it for several reasons, but part of that is that it was my focus time after a day in hell.

So, I decided It's too fucking cold to actually go down Westlake or Smith st. So, what the hell? There's a treadmill at the fitness center, I'll go walk on it for 45 minutes.

When I got there--some chick was using it. We only have one. Treadmill. Not chick. She was talking on her cell phone. So I went and fooled around to see how much I could bench press, yadda yadda.

Came back into the room and she was still there. That's fine. So, I'll get on the stair climber. Another of those machines invented by satan. I remember climbing on that exact machine once and laughing because after 5 steps I wanted to die. I then proceeded to go for a 15 minute stair climbing workout, set on random, with a difficulty of 6. I didn't stop, I just went. I got a little sweaty. But big deal.

The chick had long left by then, so I did some bicycle crunches and then hopped on the treadmill.
I can't walk on a treadmill due in part to the excessive boredom it creates. Even with my iPod on. So I ran. I kept a reasonable pace, and I ran until a mile was up.

I'd never done that.

Ever.

Not ever. I am/was always a run run run, walk, run, walk, run run run kind of girl, and yes, could go 3 miles, but never ran one mile straight.

And I wasn't winded, I wasn't sucking air. A mile is probably small time for the shape my body is in right now. But I'm okay NOT doing this regularly. It was fun to see what I could do though.

I'll still take a nice walk on the street over the treadmill. God did not create me to run. My knee is telling me that right now.

it's Tuesday. Pray that I make it through the day.

x.

I'm overdue

2009-01-25T17:53:00.003-05:00

For a list of easy vs. hard

5 easiest things I did today:

1. Cook Breakfast: one omelet with tomato and cheese and an english muffin.
2. Rub socks on her belly while she lay in the sun. She may have tried to rip my face open only once or twice, but I put her in her place.
3. Put together a party shuffle on iTunes for Mel and I to listen to while we cleaned. Songs we heard included "just dance" by Lady Gaga and "11:11" by The All American Rejects.
4. Cleaned. Seriously. Our condo never gets dirty enough for it to be difficult to clean this place. So, today I cleaned behind my tv. DUHHHH-STEEE.
5. Helped a dear friend with her computer. An easy task for me that had her overwhelmed. And it was worth the nice visit.

5 hardest things I did today, a contrast:

1. Multi-task while I cooked breakfast. I was also putting a load of laundry in the dryer, preparing my coffee and emptying the dishwasher. By the time I actually put it in my mouth, it had cooled significantly. I have the feeling that mothers eat cold food a lot.
2. Cleaned out the litter box of said cat. She's kinda gross.....
3. Listened to "just dance" by Lady Gaga for the bazillionth time. I might be over it. I first heard this song on my birthday almost two months ago......I'm ready for it to be over.
4. Cleaned. Cleaned a spot on the sliding glass door in the office that was about Beau's height-- and I'm pretty sure was left over from when he used to check himself out in the mirror or push his toys against the door to secure them in his mouth.
5. Went grocery shopping after helping my friend. Mel and I started to get hungry so the shopping was a stupid daunting task that needed to be done before we could get home and prepare food...okay not we...Melanie...who is cooking right now whilst I laze around in here typing nonsense.

In all, it looks as if I had a pretty good day. It looks as if life is starting to bring itself back to a nice level.

Life IS good. Mom. It is.

And yes, it is hard. But I was given life, and for whatever purpose I'm here to serve, I'm doing it. And I'm doing Aight.

AND!--I'm ridiculously good looking.

peace and happy Sunday.

X.

Did I Bring that?

2009-01-23T05:42:00.003-05:00

I don't know if it's just forgetfulness, or an inability to focus on my part.

Let me explain:

Last night, after working toward my goal of becoming the best racquetball player ever, I came home, chilled a bit, and then took a shower.

Post shower I went to my dresser and put on a fully fresh set of pajamas. This includes bottoms, a t-shirt, socks and some sort of long-sleeved thermal. But unsure as to if I'd used a thermal last night that I could re-use, I checked under my pillow. There, from the previous night was a pair of pants, socks, t-shirt and thermal. An entire bed time outfit I'd forgotten about.

I do this all the time. I then stripped the fresh pajamas. Neatly folded them and placed them back in my dresser. I put on the outfit found under the pillow and proceeded with my evening.

So, then I thought about how else this 'lack of focus' seems to effect me. So, here's more:

At work I tend to have to wander around for my job. Off site locations, different parts of the agency. And I can't just go there empty handed. Chances are good I need a screwdriver, my laptop, a back up tape, software, hardware, a small monkey. The items are endless. So, with this, I need to be prepared.

But do I always forget one thing? Do I constantly go to a site and realize I'd forgotten that install disc? That I don't have the cord that I told myself 100 times to grab?

At work, I'd been noticing for like 2 weeks that my water bottle needed to come home. Desperately. That I needed to get the bottle cleaner and scrub that bad boy. Do you think I'd remember the day I thought about it? Or the next? Or the day after that? um, no.

And then there's the never ending travel coffee cup saga. I forget that thing at least once or twice a week. I leave it on my desk when I go home. Or worse yet, I go to the front desk, chat it up with the girls before I leave for the day, and leave it on Jovan's desk. Or on the Printer table, or on the floor...

And I feel like this may only be recent. Like in the past year and a half or so...

or maybe not. I'll have to ask Melanie.

But it's frustrating.

I even do check off lists for myself. But wouldn't you know. I tend to forget to put things on check off lists.

So it goes. I guess I just have to expect this from myself.

On to Friday.

X

on Loss and Chocolate

2009-01-20T05:44:00.002-05:00

I'm doing okay despite the recent loss of my best friend. I still get smacked in the stomach with what feels like the weight of a VW bus every so often. It ties my stomach and heart into one big knot and doesn't subside until I cry, or sit and remember him. It's a shit feeling. It's loss. It's what humans do to grieve. And it's how I woke up today.

No offense to anyone I've ever known, but I've never lost a person in my life who meant this much to me.

Well, Maybe my dad. But that's a whole other blog.

Positive thoughts to change today: Chocolate and Mint.

Last night I fell asleep contemplating this combination. Last week I discovered Hershey's bliss. It's a melt away higher quality chocolate than their regular line. They have a few different flavors. I stumbled on the creme de menthe in a co-worker's candy dish. yeeeum. Good lord. It set me ablaze with pleasure.

I'm also a huge fan of Andes candies and York peppermint patties. Both good, both consisting of chocolate and mint, but both very different. And wonderful. At Christmas I was barely able to keep myself away from the nutcracker andes. they were bigger. And more chocolatey. Jovan shared my appreciation of those.

I don't like mint alone. I really dislike starmints. Or candy canes of the mint variety. Mint gum is okay but I'm not a huge fan of gum overall. I generally only pop it in my mouth when I have to train someone on a computer. I do like canadian mints. Or those after dinner mints that dissolve in your mouth? Those are pretty good. But let's be honest. They'd both benefit from chocolate.

And that is the thought for the day. I think I need to go to Walgreen's on my lunch and buy the following:

1 bag of tropical trail mix
1 bottle of diet rootbeer
1 package of andes candies

And today I will smile. More than normal, and see if it creeps anyone out.

peace.

X.

wake UP!

2009-01-13T05:42:00.003-05:00

Socks is everywhere.

This cat has magically become the BIGGEST attention seeking animal ever.

I woke up at approximately 2am to her sitting on my stomach staring at me. She was kneading my abs with her front paws hoping to snuggle in. I even think at one point in the night she sneezed in my face. Cold cat face spray in the middle of a dream.

Nice. right?

Melanie also woke me at one point and aggressively told me to stop grinding my teeth. whoops. I do this sometimes. I felt bad.

I can relate. When she grinds, I want to crawl into a hole. It's horrifying. Disgusting. It makes me want to pull her teeth out. But I don't. I keep my cool. And usually in the form that she chose last night, I wake her gently and tell her to put a sock in it.

However, I'm not sure if she was able to wake me gently. I don't rouse easily. Once I'm asleep from 10ish-4:45ish, I'm like a solid rock. A solid sleeping rock with a cat kneading at my stomach. She's complained in the past about trying to get me up. Being really nice, sweet, maybe rubbing my back. But then I guess she has to shake me a little here and there and kick me in the face. I get the hint eventually.

Today is Tuesday. Infamous meeting day. I hope I only find myself in one. It'll probably be the longest one ever--but I'll live...maybe.

I also have to go to a wake. A former co-worker recently passed away, an older woman, who spent years working and then volunteering at our social rehab club.

And that's what's on my plate for today....until dinner time, and then I think Mel and I have planned veggie burgers and some kind of potato dish.

Can't wait.

English Muffin Style.

Remix.

Working out the negative....WoooooSAH!

2009-01-12T05:48:00.004-05:00

Life. Breathe it in.

Stinks sometimes, right?

I remember last winter, getting super frustrated with people who drove SUVs and other such gigantic vehicles. When it snows, folks refrain from cleaning the room of these monstrosities. Not all drivers ignore the roof--but there are a few...probably more than a few who fall into this category. And I've made my point....usually screaming in my own vehicle going down the highway. Nobody can hear. But I get some satisfaction out of the profanities that I can scrape up.

My newest irritation is people who have CARS and do this. Who can't get the roof of their CAR.

Why?

Oh, and even better, these same people really only wipe off enough snow so that they can see out of a tiny 6x6 inch hole in their windshield. Then, they get in front of me on the highway and it's all I can do to maintain visibility with the miniature snow squall.

So, while I'm swearing to my fellow motorists while going 75 mph down I-91--I realize, there's something to be observed here. What kind of personality doesn't complete snow removal from their vehicle?

Seriously.

If I were hiring someone for a job. And they drove up the day after a fresh snowfall, with most of the car not wiped. I wouldn't hire them. And I'm not kidding. What does that say? Can't follow through with a task? Lazy? Unfocused? Mildly retarded?

Feeling the love with cinnamon swirl toast.

X

just relax and make my coffee

2009-01-09T05:45:00.003-05:00

Melissa and I went to Chili's yesterday for lunch. It was her birthday on Wednesday, and we work like 4 minutes from each other. So why not have lunch to celebrate that she's getting closer to 40? We got our booth and ordered some sodas.

As an aside. Both Melissa and I are very mindful of what we put in our body. We didn't used to be this way. In fact, we used to abuse our bodies together. If you saw a picture of both of us in 2001 and a pic now, you'd be impressed. So, while sodas may not be a big deal for regular people, for us they need to be monitored. Even the diet ones.

Oh, where was I? Okay, soda. So, our sodas come. I don't drink caffeine for the most part, but one watered down soda at lunch won't hurt. I get a diet coke. As does Melissa. We get some chips. Salsa. During which she finishes most of her coke. The waitress, on the fly, with a tray full of drinks stops and puts a new soda next to Melissa. Wow, nice.

I'm, thankfully, not much more than half-way through mine.

We get our lunches. Proceed to munch. Waitress brings me another soda. I would have really preferred a water. But she brought it, so, I'll drink it. Melissa gets about half way through her 2nd drink, and another is dropped off. We look at each other.

Jesus. I mean, checking in with us on what we might like would be nice. What if I wanted to switch to shots of tequila?

Melissa felt obligated to drink her third soda, or at least some of it, because the chick brought it.

But, what is the protocol with something like that? Who needs three diet cokes with lunch? or two for that matter??

Which brings me to tip jars at places where someone makes you coffee. Starbucks, Javapalooza, dunkin donuts even. I mean, isn't there job to make you coffee? Aren't they getting paid an hourly wage to do this? But then there's this tip jar thing in front of your face when you're ordering. And if you get an extra specially friendly touchy feely person taking your order, don't you get compelled to drop a dollar in the jar.

But then what if they don't see you drop the dollar in the jar? Then you feel like a schmuck, because maybe they went out of their way to make your latte just perfect, but they turned away just as you dropped the bill in....

There's a lot of pressure out there to take care of the service industry.

Why don't people tip their local neighborhood office manager/IT coordinators??

X

musica y mas

2009-01-07T18:45:00.002-05:00

You should all be well aware of how healing music is for me. I can't even explain it. I'm sitting here, going through my library of music. Remembering how it came to be.

If you read California Dreaming ( a post from Oct '07) then you know how it was all around when I was a kid. Emotions a plenty.

I remember my first cassette. I think. Okay it was either Debbie Gibson or The Beach Boys. And really I was a far more into the latter. I used to just play cassettes over and over and over and over...and over. I remember Milli Vanilli, New Kids on the Block, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis, Whitney Houston, and on I could go. I swear I just holed up in my bedroom and listened until I knew every word.

It just got me through rough times. Being a frustrated teenager. I'm sure most of us go through this in adolescence. A way to express ourselves. I remember laying on my back. Headphones on...listening to Tom Cochrane's "life is a highway" swearing to God that he was related to me and that he'd want me to be in his band. What I'd play? I don't know. But maybe I could sing for him...

Maybe not.

So, right now, I'm dealing with this overwhelming urge to update my iPod. Take all the crap that's been on there since...well, since I got it. I bought this one in July when I was oozing poison ivy juice all over the place. I just haven't kept it as updated as I'd like. Some people just put songs upon songs on their mp3 players, but I keep a manageable amount on there so that I know if I put the setting on "shuffle" the chances are greater that I'll get to a song I really want to hear, instead of some stupid ass track 4 on some stupid ass Chris Brown album that I only downloaded for one song.

As I type this, Heart's Greatest Hits is playing. I always loved them but never realized when it was them playing on the radio. So here I am, exploring that. I like.

I'm pulling cds off of my shelf that haven't been put into my library yet. Some stuff Vince burned for me. En Vogue. Arrested Development. Who else remembers them? Tennessee? Mr. Wendel? Anyone?

I've been organizing the shit out of my life this last two weeks. Last Friday in an effort to hide my face from the world, I tackled the IT office. A pit. Nothing is ever organized in there. But I picked up, put things in order by necessity and vacuumed. All while listening to my iPod of course.

Everything at work is getting done right away. I'm not waiting until the last minute these days. I'm sure I'll go back to that. But as soon as I get to work, I busy myself making sure shit gets done. That the front desk gets their shit done. I can't tell if they want to kill me yet or not.

Well, this was random. If you're still with me....congrats!!

Also...it's 7:04 pm. Mel is out. Dinner is not in my stomach yet due to this fact. I'm pathetic.

Peace.

X.

who knew?

2009-01-06T05:43:00.002-05:00

Anyone else ever have as much frustration installing a DSL line?

Good lord, you'd think I was parting the red sea here.

We're putting in a new off site office for my job. The space was raw and we built it out. Wiring in all. This meant I was partly responsible for arranging this. Making sure the dudes who did the cabling for the office, did what I want. This would make it easier to network. Right? Yes. Still following? Good.

I was on site a couple of weeks ago when what looked like two 14 year olds were cabling the office. I explained to them that I needed jacks in a specific place for my DSL modem and sonicwall, AND I waned to put my fax in there as well. This should have been easy. They make jacks with two ports. THIS MUCH I KNOW. When I showed up yesterday. They had the jack with two ports. ON THE OPPOSITE WALL. Nobody listens to me.

Mind you, this is after my sales lady for my communications/data company managed to send a DSL install out twice. BEFORE THE CABLING. you need the cables to....fuck it. Never mind. So yesterday I decide I'll just wait for the DSL (AT&T) guy and see if he can work around it, stretch a wire, whatever. BUT WAIT, the director of this off side program doesn't want the wires reaching around, the cabling guys should have done it right. He wants to call the contractor. FINE BY ME. But I still have this poor DSL GUY. Who, doesn't decide to show until last on his list. 3pm ish. I'm getting called into some last minute meeting at the main building about some DATA I messed up back over the summer. Yeah, the state of CT has us on their RADAR. The CEO is all "I'm paranoid we'll have to give back funds."

Crystal? You have some splaining to do...

kick me in the neck.

I patchwork my way through two meetings, manage to keep myself still in good graces (I don't know how I manage to do this)--the DSL guy calls and is all "I can't get a dial tone."

What?

Oh this is fun. LIke finding those stupid puzzle pieces that Elf is so crazy about. I Have to go back through my list of who did what in that building and see who dropped the ball...

Phone lines installed *check
Phone lines activated *check
dial tone brough up from basement? *fucking cabling guys.

DSL guy leaves. After the 3rd attempt, I'm exhausted.

Okay, Positive side. Things I've learned:

Micromanage
Micromanage
Micro manage

Don't trust ANYONE!!

X.

what did I eat??

2009-01-05T05:46:00.002-05:00

I stink.

We had Indian food for dinner last night. One of our comfort foods. And this morning,
as I began to sweat, I began to smell my dinner. That's fucking gross.

It's gross on other people. It's gross on me. And the grosser than gross thing is that a shower
does NOT stop food from coming out of your sweat glands.

I will try NOT to sweat today.

Oddly enough, though I'm trying, food is not a sense of comfort right now. Actually nothing is. I find that very frustrating. I'm dealing with this feeling right now that is similar to when I have these horrifying cramps and I'm waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in. It's a discomfort that I can't control, I can't appease, and I just have to wait...

Unpleasant, at the least.

I had this dream yesterday morning that I was eating donuts from krispy creme. My faves. And that I was getting heavy again. That I couldn't seem to stop myself from eating crap. Which is really, pretty much how I used to be. No control. No moderation. I think it was a reaction dream to the holidays ending. To feeling like I have no control over my life right now. Even though, in reality--I can easily control what goes in my body.

But today is D-Day. No, not diet day. It's "Don't" Day. Don't eat candy, sweets, donuts (donuts are rare for me, even when I'm treating myself because they were a big trigger for me--but I figured I'd mention them since I dreamed of them) anything outside my regular line up of food. Back to waiting until Friday night to indulge a little. I'm kind of excited.

Thanks for letting me share.

I stink.

X

My television Crisis

2009-01-04T12:43:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning, looking for a distraction, I got online and into a chat with a Comcast customer service representative. I knew I'd be adding Showtime to my current bundle because the final season of The L word airs in just two short weeks. It would cost me an additional $19 over what I currentlypay. Fine, whatever, just do it.

But wait. There was another option. Something that could be better for me.

For just $1 more a month, I could get ALL premium channels for one year. No contract. So if I decide that it's far more television than I can handle (I will not decide this) I can cancel, or downgrade at any time without any penalty.

I love television.

This was a special gift from above.

When the chat ended, I was instantly given Showtime, Cinemax, Starz, The Movie Channel and all of the subsequent channels that come with...like the spanish and kids versions. And so I flipped, up and down the channels until I was nearly comatose. Until Mel and I left the house for a few hours to share dinner with PT and N.

When we returned, we happily searched Shotime's on Demand database for Season 3 of Dexter and Weeds. They were there!! YAY for me.

I admit. While I may be a supergenius. A good looking supergenius....a frigorific supergenius?? I love my mind numbing tele. And I don't care who knows it.

When I next look at the things I should cut back on, work should top my list.

X.

A quick check-in

2008-12-28T19:15:00.002-05:00

Alllll RIGHT!! So, I figured I'd meander down the hall to post a blog.

Then I sat down to write something, and nothing came to mind. Nothing. When I first started my blog, It was to write. To force myself to write, every day. Even if it was just to tell about roadkill. And I've fallen short of that these days. Which sucks. Because I like to just put some of my daily thoughts down with a keyboard.

I started this post last night. It's now Monday morning. I will discuss 2 items of business with whomever cares to read on:

1. At one point last night I passed Melanie in the hallway. "You're too skinny." She said looking at my face.

"What?! Really?"

She should know that I'm exactly the same weight I've been for close to a year. Maintaining like a sonofabitch.

I promptly weighed myself. Yep, still the same weight. Maybe a little on the higher end of the 5 lb spread I keep myself on. But that can be related to cookies, candy, and the occasional slathering of ice cream that I've been partaking in for the holidays. And I still have one more gorge fest lined up for Wednesday. So be it.

A little further investigation told that my face looked a little drawn in. Tired if you will.

"Honey neither of us have slept in two nights."

Which brings me to item number...

2. This morning while I wake up in my bed, Beau is waking up at the hospital. Longest story short--he's been seizing again. Uncontrollably. They are watching him and have him on IV medications. We are waiting for some blood levels to come back on Tuesday to make our next move....

Just a kick in the teeth reminder that life is not predictable.

It's the only thing on my mind right now.

X

Drowning in the night

2008-12-23T20:25:00.003-05:00

I awoke this morning at approximately 3:30 am gasping for air. Choking. Coughing. I had been dreaming. But was rudely interrupted by the intrusion of saliva in my lungs.

Who else does this? anyone? This happens to me regularly. I'll be dead asleep and gasp in--hard-- and when I exhale, I'm coughing because of the excessive liquid where it should not be. It's irritating, scary, and really just unpleasant. And the fact that it tends to happen when I'm getting my sleep on is quite distracting.

I was kind of glad to be out of the dream. It was a weird one. I was stalking some storage unit that Melanie and I were keeping a pet bird in. I was telling her that it isn't really humane for the bird and that we should keep it in the house. But when I went to visit it, it was vicious. Biting me and not letting me put it back on it's perch.

And then there was this thing happening where Beau was dropped down a pipe from a second story. Some men had been working on a roof and shoved him in this pipe. He landed head first and was all weird. One eye more wide open than the other. He was damaged in some way. And that's easily related back to the fact that I feel like Beau has something wrong with him. Even though he's been relatively normal lately, I just can't quite get past what happened. Every wrong noise or step he makes, I'm right on top of him checking...watching for an additional minute or so to make sure everything's in line.

I'm glad I woke out of that dream. It sucked. And Beau was there with me. Hogging the pillow. But fine. Snoring away. Melanie said she heard me breathe in, she knew it was going to be a doozy. I have this visual of sounding like rushing water--as that's how it felt in my windpipe.

I felt bad that she was laying there awake...just waiting for me to choke to death. I wonder why she wasn't sleeping. I'll have to ask her. Maybe something's on her mind.

Merry Xmas eve eve.

x

God, I can go on...

2008-12-19T05:45:00.004-05:00

I'm continuing to lose racquetball matches to Vince. When we first started playing together, I could beat him. Not always easy to do. But done enough to feel confident in my skills.

Last night I was disgusted at myself. Swinging into thin air, hitting the wall. Hitting myself with the ball. Hitting Vince with the ball...

My new year's resolution may be to become the best damn racquetball player EVER. Wish me luck with that.

This morning as I was finishing my workout, heading into the stretches I started to untie my shoe laces as I do every workout. I realized that I do this crazy little ritual. As the workout ends and I head into cool down and stretching, I must have my sneakers unlaced, off of my feet and neatly sitting next to me. I do my stretches without sneakers on and when all ends, I place them back in the closet where I found them.

I do this every day. And I wonder when I started doing it. I wonder if it comes from that place inside of me that must always be preparing for my next move. Like at night after I do the dinner dishes, I have to go brush my teeth. This is for 2 reasons. 1. So that I don't eat anything else for the evening and 2. So that I have one less step when I'm getting ready for bed. This is another ritual that is fairly normal, but can't be changed. And if I haven't brushed my teeth early in the evening, then I have to work it in right before bed and that's a time when Melanie is in the bathroom with Q-tips and whatnot. And securing a sink position is nearly impossible.

My rituals are nearly all on weekdays.

When I think about what I do on weekends, it's different. I give myself more freedom. I must do that on purpose. A natural instinct to ritualize for work--to get myself into that headspace every day. In the morning I follow all of the same moves to get myself out the door by 7am. In the evening I follow all of the same moves to have my ass on the couch by 8pm. And eventually in bed by 9. And poor Melanie. Sometimes I'm laying in bed, having accomplished all of my feats before her and I'm cold and I want to sleep, but I can't sleep if she's not there. But she's still in the bathroom brushing and Q-tipping. And I'm rushing her along so that she can get in to bed next to me. Then I get all in her face snuggly style and fall asleep.

And it must be like this. Daily.

I'm off to shower and wake Melanie by 6:10...

Enjoy the Snow...

X

Here comes Xtal Claus

2008-12-16T05:46:00.006-05:00

Mel and I put up a tree.

I'd swore we wouldn't. But we did.

She'd gone to some antique place on Saturday and called me from there saying she'd found the cutest tree ever, could she get it.

No. Waste of time. Waste of effort.

She was okay with that and started home.

Then the phone rang. I, of course, did not answer.

Some old guy talking bout how Mel left her check book at the antique shop.

Nice.

When Mel came home I informed her of her indiscretion. She moaned a little. But we'd planned to go out and do some shopping that night anyway, so we'd go and get her check book first.

When we pulled in to the parking lot she pointed out the most adorable, appropriate, most xtal xmas tree ever. And it was at that point that I insisted we buy it.

How can we not have a Christmas tree?? Gawd.

The next night we decorated it. Pulled out ornaments that we haven't unearthed for at least 3 years. It was nice. We realized we were spending out 8th Christmas together and had a toast to that.

The next time I get all scrooged out, can someone kick me in the face?

thanks.

X.

Assessing the situation.

2008-12-13T19:30:00.004-05:00

So, I had a fishamajig for dinner tonight.

Yes. That's right. White bread, american cheese, tartar sauce and a deep fried filet O' fish.

With a side of fries.

YUM.

A satisfaction rarely felt by my inside parts.

It's that cold again. Fall usually has me going to the door on a weekend morning and poking my sometimes clothed upper half out on the side walk to grab my paper and test the weather. This morning I took one look at the frozen grass and my breath floating in front of my face and knew it was a doozy. I pulled on my sweatpants from the day before and proceeded to layer on top. Long sleeve, short sleeve, another long sleeve. A jacket--my constant hat-- and some gloves.

When I got outside I wondered why it was that I didn't layer my bottom half. What the fuck is wrong with me?? The wind whipped right through those thin ass sweatpants. I was all toasty up top and a mess down below. Not only were the sweatpants ultra thin, but I also had on ankle socks. Like the developmentally disabled individual I tend to be.

I proceeded to swear at Beau for the next 20 minutes while he took his time sniffing things out. Pretending he'd have a good place to poo and then NOT pooing. I hate when he does that. Then, thankfully, when he caught a chill and realized we were wandering around in the equivalent of the arctic tundra, he pulled me home for some breakfast.

ME: Egg White scramble with tomato, jalepeno and cheese.
HIM: Some expensive ass dog food mixed with antibiotic and phenobarbital. (or what I like to call Rohypnolbarbitol--I mean, this shit could knock out a college chick)

Today I had some alone time. My external hard drive (yeah the one with ALL my pictures and music on it) seems to have shit the bed. I have crap luck with hard drives. Everyone should know this. So, I was out trying to find some specific cables at 5 different stores (none of which had what I needed). During my alone time I had tons of racing thoughts. Not much of note. But then I got to wondering about how I come across to other people.

I'm usually am myself around people. Personality-wise. But I only let certain people see certain sides of me. And how is it that I choose who gets to see what side? My bff Melissa has seen all sides of me. As has Melanie. I sometimes act like the inflamed aggravated back end of a hippopotamus in heat--and both of these chicks love me regardless. But I do believe that these two would be the only two with whom I would behave in this manner.

There are another select group of people who know me well, who I feel I know well, but who don't see this side of me. I protect them from that because it's not who I want to be, and when I am like that it's only safe in the hands of a select few.

And then there are people who don't see much of me at all. Most of the people I work with only see this version of X who is cut and dry. humorous. playful. cranky at times...but overall....focused.

It's interesting to think about the different ways people see you. And I think it would make a more interesting long ass blog one day. But it skimmed the surface of my mind today. Maybe I'll think harder on it.

Saturday night's alright for fighting.

Remix.

It's Xmas Time in M-Town

2008-12-10T19:54:00.003-05:00

Christmas Shopping. Not the bain of my existence this year.

Why?

Simplify.

Mel and I are going to make an ass load of cookies for people. Buy a few small things for those closest to us. And for each other--set a limit and put the money toward paying down debt.
The best gift we can give each other will soon (hopefully) be a house.

I find that this has me almost stress free (minus the 2 dozen other distractions in my life). I'm not making lists, checking them off. Re-organizing. Figuring out how much to spend on whom because of how much they spend on us. It got to be ridiculous. And last year I'd had it up to here *hand at my eyebrows*

Elf and Paul were going to do some research about donating money or toys or sponsoring a family. But I think Melanie and I are going down to Toy R' Us on Friday where they are sponsoring Toys for Tots. We'll buy some toys for that. Toys I would have loved when I was a wee li'l girl. We're talking guns and action figures here....

We don't have a tree this year. Nor have we in years past. This isn't because we're grinches like Jovan (she'd be proud that I mentioned her). It's because a tree creates more to clean up in the days after Christmas.

There's this thing about keeping decorations up past their prime. Xmas is the worst. When we did put a tree up, Melanie would be taking it down the day after. Putting all of the ornaments back, taking down the snowmen and lights. So much work going in to something that's only going to end....soon. I mean, it was just Halloween. Xmas is going to come and go in 2 weeks people!

Nowadays we put up a few select snowman figurines and a couple of trinket around casa de Marino-Cochrane. The mantle has more stuff on it than it will all year long. There's a warmer feeling to our place. It's nice...

So there you have it. Simplify Xmas style.

X.

Am I doing something wrong?

2008-12-08T17:14:00.004-05:00

Talk about a case of mis-directed anger...

I was getting on Rte 2 today on my lunch. I don't really go out and eat lunch, or pick lunch up, I tend to just go and browse somewhere or pick up something we need. Today I was going to Walgreens to try a cough drop that helped suppress. I called my Dr. today and was diagnosed with laryngitis over the phone. Then all I heard was "...blah blah blah. Viral. Blah blah. It takes 3 weeks to pass. Blah..." Whatev's. I mean, yeah it's pretty accurate. But I'm frustrated. Severely.

So, I'm getting on the ramp to hop on the highway and go up 2 exits to Walgreens. I know, I'm re-capping, but deal. And as I'm 'merging' onto the highway, I notice a guy on my back left hand side, still going a hot 75 mph. Not slowing down. Not changing lanes. Nothing. My mind flashed back to when I was 16. My driver training. If I'm on the highway in the right lane and see cars coming on to the highway...and there isn't ANYONE in the passing lane. I move over to the passing lane.....right? RIGHT? As far as I know, the person getting on the highway needs to trust that those motorists who have already established momentum will use their powers of common sense to accommodate for the arrival of said merging car.

Not this guy. NO! He seems to think it's his right to say in that lane, beep at me, wave his hands and then pass, swerve and pull in front of me.

classic asshole.

So then I do the Melanie in the car with the peace sign move and flip him off. Wave my hands. Scream the best little scream I can muster with no voice...

Followed the bastard all the way to the road Walgreens is on. I wonder if I scared him. I was behind him for a while. I am scary...right?

So, I'm frustrated about being sick. I'm frustrated about Beau being sick. I hate that I can't just get through a day at work without coughing like I have a bonfire in my throat. Which is reminiscent to when I first tried cigarettes...hehehehehehehe. So the guy at the on-ramp. Sorry the fucking MORON at the on ramp, got a taste of my frustration....

So you'd think....

Until 4pm came. I got on the ramp to go home. Same ramp. Some MO-FO in a large truck played the same game with me.

What? Am? I? DOING? WRONG?--I've been getting on Rte 2 East on this ramp at exactly the same time for.....6 years.

I just need some PEACE.

please share.

thanks.

REMIX

I can't eat that.

2008-12-05T20:13:00.003-05:00

While Beau's future may be murky--you wouldn't tell this by looking at him. Despite the dozens of tests and recent loading dose (4 injections in two days) of phenobarbital and several day stays at the vet--the little dude seems to be rather normal.

I sense he doesn't want me to worry.

So, on I go. This morning I found myself slightly angered at an older gentleman who walked into starbucks while I was sprawled out waiting for my decaf sugar free soy latte. He didn't directly offend me really. All he did was look at the pastries with the intention to buy. I felt like this was easy for him. Like he came in every morning and thought about what to have with his coffee for the drive in to work.

Most people who have never struggled with their weight would leisurely decide what scone to have with their Christmas blend. They're the same people who eat lunches that their company pays for without thinking. And during lunch, they eat a regular meal instead of spacing out the calories so that they don't overload. They are my father and my brother. They eat with no thought.

I sometimes get resentful of these people. I forget sometimes that my eating is so regimented. It's so normal for me. But then I have moments like this morning where I just want to be able to do that. To walk in to some place and see something I want, and eat it. Instead of now when I look at something and feel a little sad that I may never eat it. Or that I have to wait to eat it.

But I do give myself some free time...

Friday evenings into Sunday morning I give myself liberty to eat what I want. Within reason. I also don't eat much during the day on Saturday, and what I do eat tends to be super healthy and balanced.

I could go on....my food habits could be a chapter in a book about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And then what happens when, on a Wednesday night, when I've had an emotionally draining week and I have 2 cookies after dinner. What happens then? the guilt. An entire section in my chapter in the OCD book.

So I sat there. Looking at this guy realizing that I didn't know if he was formerly heavy. Maybe he did struggle with his weight once upon a time. Maybe, like me, he treats himself once a week. On friday mornings, to a weird ass Starbucks pastry.....

maybe.

X

it's over

2008-11-30T11:03:00.002-05:00

Well, it came and went. I'm now 30. Don't worry, I still look the same...

I'm only mildly hung over today. This is a good thing, as I can tend to feel very ill after a night of drinking if I don't take care of myself. But take care of myself, I did.

I awoke yesterday in the wee morning hours. I'd actually had a very sleepless night, filled with strange dreams. One of which Included my participation in the Olympic white water kayaking team.

I got up and took Beau for a hike--then came back for a nice birthday breakfast of cream of wheat and a grapefruit. Followed by a couple of cups of decaf and the Saturday paper. Melanie and I made plans to run some errands and grab some lunch. I chose a veggie sub from Subway. My new favorite meal.

We came home and then proceeded to watch two movies back to back. The first, "Grace is Gone" with John Cusack was a depressing mess. From beginning to end. Don't watch it. Ever. The second was cute and made me smile. The elf mentioned it on here before, "Outsourced." I'd recommend it.

It had been my goal to get through 3 netflix movies we had sitting for the last month--they were movies that weren't out in theatres, and so we hadn't been in a rush to watch them, and continued to choose television programming over the DVDS. So, I wanted to watch them-- And we did. And so now we can move on and hope for 'Baby Mamma.'

Then on to dinner and a drag show with friends. The details of this will stay in my head until I die. Or at least until Monday when I force the night's antics on the handful of co-workers who dissed us.

Good day over all.

peace loving omelet with jalepeno and tomato.

A good Memory

2008-11-24T05:49:00.007-05:00

The year: 2000

My girlfriend and I were in a fairly dysfunctional on again off again relationship. The off again would come whenever she met someone else she wanted to date. But don't get me wrong. During these times I found myself dating as well. Feeling out my options if you will.

I was barely 21. And still a full-time undergrad.

During one of these such 'off again' times, my co-worker Rachel was telling me about a friend of hers who was also gay. I used to get a giant kick out of people who had two gay friends and thought they were compatible by that fact alone. "She likes to cuddle." Rachel said trying to make a sale.

I was ambivalent. I'm sure Rachel's friend was nice and all. But at the time, I believe I was caught up in some other hussy. Or two. And being consistently disappointed with the long-term relationship that I had kept walking in and out of, I wasn't looking for 'cuddling.'

"Great Rachel. I'm sure she's nice."

"Let's all go out one night." Rachel persisted several weeks later.

"I'm back with my girlfriend." I moaned.

"So. You'll just meet her. Bring Melissa. We'll just go hang out."

"aaalllllriiight." I resigned.

Two weeks later a group of us met up and went to the casino. Rachel and her gay friend Melanie. Me, my gay friend Melissa, and another co-worker--Who, despite trying, had failed at getting me interested in her....good lord, I'm recalling the drama.

I hadn't seen Melanie yet. We took separate cars.

The first time I actually saw Melanie (she had been coming to stop and shop, where I worked for awhile, and I'm confident I'd seen her several times without actually 'looking') was in the parking garage at the Mohegan sun. She was definitely extremely adorable. And I smiled at her.

But I was resigned to being my usual, shy, aloof self. Only speaking when spoken too. And so, for that entire evening, I barely spoke a word to her. Even after when we went to some bar. She and my bff Melissa were chatting up a storm while I just sat there. Chiming in every so often. Useless as I tend to be.

At one point she went off to the bathroom.

"Jesus, Melissa, she's adorable...and so grown up." I said.

"Should we give her our number? We could hang out with her. Right?" Melissa asked.

"Sure. Yeah, Let's do that. Dude, she's so hot..." I wrote our number (Melissa and I were roomies at the time) down on a napkin...or wait---actually I think we couldn't find a pen. I think that on the way out of the bar that night Melissa had asked someone for a pen and wrote down our number but we were both big ass pansies about giving it to Melanie. Hot Melanie.......Rachel's hot friend Melanie.

My new obsession....

I do believe that I made it a point to tell Rachel how cute Melanie was. At least once a week. However, as we all know. I was back with my girlfriend. And for the next year and a half, it looked something like this:

I was with my girlfriend.

Then I wasn't....but I was with someone...I'm sure...

then I was with her...again.

Then I found out Melanie met someone (some super old chick)...she would come in to stop and shop and 'grocery shop' with this chick. I was sooooo much better looking.

I began to 'stalk' Melanie. And I use this word lightly because I knew she'd eventually be my wife so I'm not sure if I was 'stalking' her per se....Plus I was seeing someone...or a few someones or whatever.

Mel would come shopping. I'd follow her around the store. Sometimes I had one of my roommates with me..."See, that's the chick. The one I might be mildly obsessed with."

Sure, we'd say hi to each other when she came in the store. But it was more like her saying 'hey' and me stuttering, tripping, and drooling because of my slight retardedness when she came near me.

A year and a half passed like this.

I graduated from college and moved in with my 'on again' girlfriend. Despite the rocky relationship we'd endured, we felt like we were grown and that moving in was the right thing to do. It was the next step. Right?

Wrong. Two weeks later I moved out--having discovered that she was also seeing someone else. This was the final 'off again.' Knowing this, it was a very difficult breakup. Even though we'd had a tough run of it. I loved her.

But I moved on. And within weeks, I was back in action. Remix style. What that means, I don't know.

I continued my mild obsession with Melanie. I noticed that she was seeing someone new. Had come in to the store with a different chick. Still not nearly as good looking as me.

In late summer of 2001 I was 'seeing' a woman--she had 3 sons and a live-in boyfriend. The live-in knew not of her indiscretions. We'd been friends for years--She was extremely sweet. And we had a connection. But let's be honest--I was 22 and in no shape to be a step mommy....nor did I want to deal with the drama that breaking up with her boyfriend would cause....

So I wasn't entirely dedicated to what that relationship was bringing to my life. In fact, I wasn't really looking for anything with commitment. But Melanie was still showing up in my brain.

She'd come to my line one day when I was working a register. She made small talk. I, again, gurgled some semblance of English toward her. She made me smile. She was always smiling. At me particularly.

A couple of weeks later, I spotted her in my customer service line. To buy lotto. Crap. what did I do? I wandered away from the desk. Told a co-worker I was on break. And off I went. For some reason I couldn't hack it.

Within a week Rachel called me at work. "Mel wanted me to give you her phone number. Call her."

"WHAT???! No shit...me? Are you sure??"

"Yes. I ran in to her last night and she asked me to give you her phone number...just do it."

Now, I've never been the one to just call someone I barely know.

But how do you blow an opportunity like this by letting fear run your life?

So I called her. I got her answering machine. Left some pathetic message I'm sure.

And I waited.

I remember it was later that day. I was getting ready for a shower. The phone rang. I was nude as the day I was born.

But I took the call. I always joke that the first time I talked to Melanie on the phone I was naked.

The following events ensued:

We had our first date. Dinner and a movie. This was when I met and fell in love with her cat, Bijou. the most beautiful cat I'd ever met. And sweet as pie too. I should dig up a picture.

A second date followed 3 days later. The Hebron fair.

Then nothing. No calls. Nothing. I figured it wasn't going to happen. We liked each other enough. But I figured she wasn't as in to me as I was her.

Days after 9-11 she called me. She actually beeped in on a conversation I was having with the mother of 3.

"I gotta go." I said. "Melanie is calling."--hindsight is showing me that I could have handled that situation with a little more grace.

We saw each other again. And again. And yet again. And were becoming fast friends--

And that's how we started. Slow and steady. She was a person who I was instantly attracted to physically. And as I got to know her. And as I still get to know her today, I fall in love with her over and over again.

Yeah, so you're asking yourself if I ever told her that I was obsessed with her for awhile. Sure, she knows. Hopefully she's flattered. How could you not be? It's not like I was leaving dead flowers on her doorsteps or making death threats to other chicks she was dating...

I love that memory.

X

A relatively calm Sunday Morning

2008-11-23T10:26:00.003-05:00

Though it's only been a few weeks since the time change. I'm suffering from cabin fever. Dark afternoons. Wind. Christmas music. This cold ass weather doesn't help. But this morning, I woke up. I stared into the sleepy brown eyes of the dog, with whom I was spooning, and decided we'd hike this morning. We both bundled up and made our way to the woods. Thank fuck. I felt human again.

I spent the weekend alone. Had drinks and apps Friday night with some friends, worked a bit Saturday and then came home. Ran out only to obtain a sandwich from subway and some baking supplies from walmart. I'm putting off actual grocery shopping to tomorrow, right at 4pm, when the grocer will be quieter. I call this strategic holiday shopping. It will be in play for the remainder of the holiday season.

Last night, I had all tasks complete and was sitting in front of a fire, watching tv by 6pm. Beau came up on the couch and sat with me for awhile. Then he wandered off to a back cushion where he curled up for a majority of the night. I would hop down and poke the fire and at one point found myself sprawled out, head on his dog bead--cat, in the dog bed--laying on the 'fire rug' (a rug I've dubbed as such because it protects the laminate floor. It was nice. Warm. And quite hilarious now that I think about it.

I've never quite lived by myself, but when Melanie goes away I get a little taste of what it would be like. It's all fun and free for about 10 hours. Then I'm like....................what now?

Well, this is the beginning of my birthday week. A time I generally ignore. Or have for the last 9 or so years. The birthdays just come and go and I'm over it. As we all know, this year, I'm dealing with a little big of angst. Far less than I was. And that's good. Everyone has a little piece to share with me and I'm appreciative for it. But in all--it's just time. It matters more what I do with it--and today, I'm going to shake things up a little and iron before noon.

Peace.

X

Speaking of Eggs.

2008-11-18T05:45:00.003-05:00

If you want to screw with X's head. Throw her a surprise party. Talk about sending my schedule off course. I loved it. I love that people--more than just the ones who are required by law--love me enough to do something so cool. It's a great feeling.

I'm still coming down off that high...

I spent a great weekend with my brother. Who may be flying away as I type this. Whenever he's here I wonder how it is that we exist without him here. He's a very fluid part of our family despite his geographic location.

Hopefully the elf and I will make it out this spring to visit.

It is November 18th. 11 Days to go. I was hoping to scrape up a memory and share something interesting from my youth this morning. But I'm kind of drawing a blank.

Enjoy Tuesday.

(OH and thanks Harry for that link re: squirrels. I thought maybe I was just jumping to conclusions about the girth of them this year. I guess it really does mean something.)

X.

bright lights

2008-11-14T14:54:00.003-05:00

Anyone else notice that the squirrels are looking extra fat assed this year? I saw one the other day with three chins. I guess it's going to be a rough winter.

I just got back from the dentist. I didn't see my usual hygienist. She was running late. I was running early. There was someone else who had the time to see me.

Aw crap.

I've been seeing the same chick for the last 3 years. We're past that awkward silence and asking of stupid questions such as:

What do you have planned for the holidays?

The summer?

How's the weather outside today?

With her I just walk in. We compliment each other's new haircuts. Smile and off we go into assessing the state of my mouth.

I mean, the whole thing is awkward anyway. When it's with someone new it's even worse. And it's a different awkward. Not the same as when my other doctor has her special instruments and bright light shining on my vajay. And she chimes in with such pleasantries as "hey, I like your socks..."

No, this awkwardness is the chick looking at my teeth. Inches from my face. Probably seeing every imperfection on my face. Every facial hair. Eye gunk. She can probably tell how long it's been since I plucked my brows. The new girl today. She just worked. She didn't talk to much. She didn't hurt me. It was good. A little slow though...and at some points I noticed her looking down the hall while she was still scraping a tooth.

LOOK AT ME WHILE YOU SCRAPE!

She also put her work towel over my chest. Close to the girls. And every few scrapes she'd wipe something on my chest. If she'd gone a little lower, she'd be buying me a cab home after.

All in all it wasn't bad. She was grateful to me for taking care of my teeth on my own and making her job easier. I explained that she'd scraped the teeth of greatness today.

it's friday.

X

Accept it and move on.

2008-11-13T19:02:00.003-05:00

Monday through Friday are like a whirlwind for me. I have no idea why. Empty busy-ness I call it. Doing a bunch of nothing. over and over.

eh, it's what I do. There's some satisfaction to it.

It's been a weird ass week. Full moon and all. 11/11 came and went and I didn't die. Melanie and I met Paco on the same day. Work has been crazy. But it's not driving me crazy. Not like it has the tendency to.

I go through these spurts where the place drives me to....well, to smoke. And then It slows down, I find acceptance, and I'm good for a few months. It's a cycle. I'm quite fond of the end where I actually calm down and breathe for a minute.

My mom's good news makes me happy. I worry far too much about far too little.

It's how I roll. In celebration of the dwindling countdown clock, let's go back to my first memory of worrying....

Well, maybe I don't have a first memory. I just remember that my anxiety started when I was approximately 7 years-old. When my parents split. I don't ever remember having any concern before that. In fact, though I was a young thing, I felt safe and loved and cared for and like things were right when my parents were together. for some reason, when they broke up, I became a freak of human nature.

And this isn't to blame them. Not at all. I mean, it was for the best......really, it was. But it's amazing what something like that can do to a kid. I began to cry every time my mom left the house. I'd worry if she was going to come home or not. I'd worry about my brother. My father. Myself. I'd stand at the bus stop in the mornings waiting in the freezing cold. Worried that I'd get in trouble that day for being so behind in my workbook. Like stomach aching worry.

I should have been medicated. I continued to worry. My memories of anxiety started around that time and can be marked regularly since then. I'll bet that now, I worry way less then I used to. With the knowledge and comfort that no matter what, the worse thing that can happen is that I'll die. And most situations don't put me in that kind of danger.

Anyway. Mom. I'm glad you're okay. Paige, I'm glad it's settled. Melanie, I'm glad you're mine. And Harry, I'm glad you're you.

This weeks theme is acceptance.

Let the countdown continue...

X.

various dronings

2008-11-06T19:02:00.002-05:00

I bought a pack of cigarettes today. My second in as many months. Yes, I say months. But I haven't yet opened this pack. We'll see where it leads.

I find that I'm stress eating lately. It didn't used to be like that. I was nearly 300 lbs and I didn't stress eat. In fact, those were the times I just didn't eat. So, here I am, nearing 30 and apparently this is what happens when you get old. You eat. So, the cigarette reasoning is two fold. For those emergency moments when I feel I might reach for a package of twinkies or a danish--I'll maybe smoke a butt, to save calories. AND to reduce my stress. I can't lie. It calms me down. Brings me to baseline.

We'll see how that goes.

We're going to try and put beau on regular dog food again. We've tried this on and off for over a year now with the same results. All foods bought in a store make him gassy and sick. So we make his food. Once or twice a week we hunker down with the skillet. Brown some chicken or turkey, boil some brown rice--crack an egg or two. Keeping it bland and nutritionally balanced.

But it's exhausting. And according to my calculations. More expensive than regular old dog food. So here Mel and I sit. Doing it again. we have faith. We're going to wean him slowly. Dose him with pepcid. And pray. Pray that just as his digestive system changed spontaneously last year, that maybe it's ready to go back to normal.

And in conclusion, to all of my regular readers...I need ideas on what to do for my birthday. For some reason, everything I come up with sounds stupid and I get angry and would rather just sit home and, as Jovan says "Drink 'til you forget it..."

So, I'm taking suggestions, and whoever submits the winning suggestion gets a nod and a smile from me. Priceless, I tell you!!

Remix.

What? Do I have a boogar?

2008-11-04T19:24:00.002-05:00

Mel and I Just returned from the polls. Easy in. Easy out. A bulk of disappointment in remembering how I'd hoped to be voting HRC 2008! OH well. I made a good choice in her absence from the ballot.

I went to Shaw's today on lunch. To grab some coffee. Coffee I can't find anywhere else. This store is close to work, so really, it's a great excuse to get the hell out of hell for a few. On my walk to the front door I noticed an older woman staring me down. Standing at her driver's side door like she was about to let herself in, but distracted by me. I kept glancing over at her from the corner of my eye, and yep, she was still there looking. Following me with her eyes. Thank goodness I was wearing sun glasses and she couldn't see the expression I was giving back.

Why was she looking at me with such intent? What was that? Isn't it rude to stare? I'm really not that interesting to look at...well....I am...but for a 70 year old?

I can't help but wonder what was going through her head...I always feel like they're saying how beautiful I'd be if I put on a dress, wore some make up, grew my hair....lord.

Then, I got my coffee and a coke zero. Paid at the check out and made my way to the exit. There sitting on a bench next to the door was another older lady.....in her 80s at least, if not more. She was watching me walk. I imagine at that age, I'm just a dyke-like blur. I came upon her and when I looked at her, she was still looking at me. Intently.

This time I just sucked it up. I smiled and wished her a good day. She smiled back.

Amazing what you can get when you quit growling.

X

ravings of a lunatic.

2008-10-30T06:03:00.005-04:00

I went to the hairdresser yesterday after work. It was a trim following the cutting off of my longer hair last month. Both visits cost approximately $60. $48 for the cut and blow. Then about $10-$12 for the tip. Too much I'm sure. But I always like to tip people who do my hair and give me tattoos. This is my image we're talking about. If they fuck it up, I'm screwed.

But the sticker shock is still there. Even though I'm paying for this product repeatedly, I can't help but think it's a drastically over priced service. Yesterday while slacking with a male co-worker we were discussing the prices of haircuts. his is like $15 or so. But he goes every 2 weeks. But it still doesn't match up. In 6 weeks I've spent $120 (Mel can manage that in one visit to the hair dresser--she's in a league all her own) and he's spent $60.

Because of this, and their ability to pee in the woods, and not worry about bleeding out monthly--I'm having a man-hating lesbian day.

OH, and while I get the negative energy out, I should come up with a few things I'm looking forward to:

A latte and a scone from Starbucks.
Picking up the last of Melanie's birthday surprises.
Finalizing my plot to take over the world.
Publishing this post and taking Beau for a li'l jaunt around the 'plex.

peace in your liver.

Ximer!!

tuesday

2008-10-28T05:53:00.002-04:00

it's 5:53 am. I just finished letting Jillian whoop me. Sweaty per usual. I'm running a little late this morning. It's raining. Beau tried to lick my face while I was doing bicycle crunches...

This aside...I will have a good day. I will have a good day. I will have a good day....

A little experiement.

I'll check back in before bed and we'll see if it was a good day...

remiX.

**************

Okay, here I am. It's 9:12 pm. I'm getting ready to shack up in bed and catch a few minutes of food network. Happiness is.

Today was quite okay. No expectations were exceeded (I find that if you lower them, your chances of disappointment are smaller. Though, conversely, when you don't have expectations, you don't look forward to anything and find yourself in a very weird state of non-feeling....).

I hit traffic on the way to work. And managed to be late. But I got a lot accomplished AT work. So that was good. I didn't bring a good lunch, and wound up hungry. Eating junk food throughout the day, but never getting satisfied. But then I had Quiznos for dinner. I love that place.

Vince and I played racquetball. I lost all three games....but at least I was playing. This is a game that I swear sometimes, is my saving grace. It allows me to be violent, passionate, sweaty and loud!

I'm living life today...

x

Wake up big shot!

2008-10-27T20:30:00.003-04:00

Most days I'm convinced that I'm the center of the universe.

I look in the mirror before leaving every day with the knowledge that while other people may be good looking. I top that. Everyone who sees me wants me. And if they don't want me, they want to be me. This is fact.

The world around me spins just for me. If a day is going crappy. I feel it. It effects me. All I can think about is how horrible I'm feeling. If it's a good day. Great for me.

Traffic. Crowds. Schedules. All must be set so that I can conveniently maneuver around them.

This is the way of things...

The world is a small place. And I am a giant among (wo)men.

In my Head.

Reality slams into me like flying toast every so often.

Last night we were watching a DVR'd episode of survivor. In the middle of a reward competition I started thinking about turning 30. And that in another 30 years I'll be 60--and 30 more after that. I'll be D.E.A.D. So then I though about how I was going to die. When I was going to die. Then decided it was okay because I believe that my soul will live on in some other lucky bastard following the death of my body.

But then I thought...what about after the reign of man? Like dinosaurs, our time here isn't forever. Nothing is forever. What about millions of years from now where there is no vessel to harbor my soul? When this planet, if it still exists is just a cold barren wasteland.

Then I was all like...jesus...life is too short. I need more edge to my life. Why aren't I sexing it up with 19 year olds and their mothers. Or riding in a hot air balloon while I smoke a pack of cigarettes--or even scarier-- Why aren't I more adamant about having a kid or two with the wife?

THEN!! I realized that it was selfish of me to even think that I should waste my life having a good time. Think of all the creatures who have this strange ass existence. Like sea enenamy. What do they do for fun? At least dolphins, monkeys and squirrels play and have a good time. What the fuck does an enenamy do? Wriggle in the tide? Whoop dee do!

I feel bad for them.

And what about mosquitoes? Whose poor lives are dedicated to feeding off of these ginormous creatures that are constantly trying to murder them. That's rough. Thank god my food doesn't try to kill me.

Melanie was commenting on the survivor challenge about halfway through. Something about who was ahead of whom. I could barely respond. I was paralyzed with fear. I was breaking out in a sweat and had begun to shake.

Nothing like being reminded that I'm nothing.

No matter how good looking I am--I'm still a small speck of crap on the toilet paper of existence.
X

Sunday Ramblings

2008-10-26T19:13:00.003-04:00

Everyone should experience a hike. Late afternoon. Autumn. The sun shining straight through the leaves. A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

So, we had to buy a new vacuum again today. I say again because we just bought one in May or June or something. Melanie was cleaning Friday night and I guess tapped (or plowed) into the couch. The vacuum then proceeded to make a disgustingly scary, loud, drag-racing kind of noise. I took a look at it this morning. I have no clue what happened. What I do know is that I couldn't fix it. So, off we went to Walmart. We now have our second new vacuum in 6 months. NO lie, we spent a little more on this one than the last. Hoping it will live longer. IF it doesn't....I see a Dyson in our future.

Last night, we popped in a movie that the Elf and Paul dropped by to us on a jaunt through town. It was pretty good. I enjoyed it. We put it in early--it was over before 9. At which point I noted that Melanie had begun to drift off to sleep. She hadn't been feeling so great, so I tucked her in to bed stating that it was way to early for me to join her.

This gave me a chance to watch some shows that she doesn't generally watch with me. I sprawled out on the couch. Beau joined me and stretched out long ways between me and the couch. We were good to go. I opened up On Demand and found Sons of Anarchy. ...
...

..

...

I woke up 35 minutes later.

Sirens and a dog barking. We live between a fire dept and I-91. So, we hear a LOT of sirens. A LOT of the time.

I gave up my plight to be young and carted my soon to be 30 year old ass off to bed and fell asleep...again.

X.

I'm hustler Baby!

2008-10-22T20:42:00.002-04:00

Based on yesterday's blog, you all know that I tooled around the house yesterday. On days like that, when the world is lucky if I change out of the socks I've been wearing for 3 days straight, I don't flush. That's right. No flushing. Well, appropriately anyway.

Actually, most days, I don't flush. Melanie usually comes behind me and makes a noise and flushes for me. Yesterday when she came home from work she was appalled.

"Jesus Christ. Crystal, it's time to flush this..."

Glad I shared?

I just came around the corner to the kitchen. Mel was wiping down the counters (that I wiped down 1/2 hour ago). I looked at my coffee maker and noticed a pink card with my name on it. I smiled and opened it. Inside was a card telling me that I'm loved. And a Starbucks giftcard--telling me that I'm even that much more loved.

Flowers aren't my thing. I can bring home a bouquet for Melanie. Or have them delivered to her job. She loves that. I know she loves that. But for me, she knows I dig my coffee--or she's the one, who when I say to myself as I'm folding my undies, that I need new ones--who will come home the next day with a 3 pack of hanes her way. She knows I love practical.

Anyway. I've had a hectic day...but a nice evening in a bunch of ways. I wanted to reflect on the positive--I feel like I've gotten too far away from that. And it can be poisonous not to appreciate the good.

Have a great night.

X! The Hustler

Holy Crap

2008-10-21T14:38:00.003-04:00

I finished a 17 disc audio book today. Kind of addictive if you ask me. I found myself plugging in my earbuds constantly. When I was washing dishes, grocery shopping, walking Beau. It was a great book. I'm officially recommending it to all of you. The title is Middlesex.

So, where have I been? I feel elusive. I'm not doing it on purpose. The Elf has seen me, and therefore knows I exist. My life feels like it's stuck on fast forward. I'm all of the sudden busy with stuff. Freaking feast or famine up in here.

Mel and I took a nice leisurely trip to the cape this past weekend. Fantab. Provincetown is quite possibly my favorite place. Ever. And while I go other places and visit, and have fun even. There is a different feeling that comes over me when I get there. A peace of sorts. When I leave, I'm convinced I'll die from the pain of separation. But I never do.

On the drive home, as the scenery slowly goes from cape towns lobster pots and t-shirt outlets--to the highway, to Providence and CT, I'm always coming up with ways that Mel and I could live there.

"Babe, I'll bus dishes, you'll wait tables. We'll do this at three different restaurants, and live in someone's attic."

Maybe not....

I then took a few days off from work, as I've accrued too much time and can only carry 2 weeks over at the new year.

Today, Beau and I went to the library. He waited in the truck. I returned my audio book and searched for another. I found nothing. I'm an accidental reader...or listener in this case. I have a hard time making choices and if I'm not gripped by a book cover or description, I'll put it back. I spent a whopping 10 minutes wandering around, looking at the stacks. I found nothing. Then, I became anxious with the realization that I'd never fed the meter.

With Beau in the truck, the meter on red, and nothing good to read, I bounced. Exciting I know.

Nothing of interest to report on.

I'm alive. Ambivalent and cranky as ever, and hoping to pull up soon!

Holla!

X.

p.s. Here's a pic from Beau's park.

Get out of the bed!

2008-10-10T05:45:00.002-04:00

Oh my god. I slept terribly last night. I couldn't wait to just get out of bed and leave it all behind me.

Melanie has school on Thursday nights. So I generally wind up in bed long before she gets home. Last semester her prof would let her out early every week so she was home by the time I went to bed. This year, she comes sliding under the covers at 11. Yikes. that's late for me.

Pansy that I am.

But I get up early. I usually have long, stressful, hell days at work. By the time 9 comes around, I'm beat.

So, last night I sat in bed for a half hour or so after I turned the tv off and walked the dog. I read for a bit. Then flipped through the channels to find something soothing. Rachel Maddow usually does the trick. Any political television will actually put me to sleep. The debate did it Tuesday...

Anyway, Beau is a mess because Mel isn't home. He stays in the living room and then comes to bed, barks at nothing, sits at the foot of the bed. Last night he would crawl under the covers and sit upright like he was standing watch.........under the covers. I love my dog, but I kicked him out a couple of times.

"Go lay on the couch!!" I said to him while I pushed his ass gently to guide him to the ground.

And THEN, still, it's warm. So I'm too hot in bed. And last night I kept my socks off...

When Melanie finally got there, she put off her usual amount of lava like body heat, and made it impossible to touch her. I vaguely remember waking to her coming to bed and me stating something psychotically about the dog.

Then it was on and off sleep all night. Dreams, which terrorize me when I'm under a lot of stress--which thankfully remains (for the MOST part) between 8 and 4. The half-hour that Mel and I usually give each other to vent about work didn't happen yesterday. So I found myself venting in my brain...alone...in the night...

I may have caffeine today...I counted on my fingers the other day how long it's been since I was an active caffeine maintenance drinker -- It's been six months. And with the exception of nights like last. My sleeping routine is at it's peak.

Alright then, I need to shower. Jillian kicked my giant white ass this morning.

X.

It's getting Hot in here.

2008-10-09T05:44:00.003-04:00

3:30 am. I awake to the sound of rain outside. The drops are falling on the concrete patio. The grill cover. Is the window open wide enough? I'm SWEATING.

And when I'm sweaty--I'm thirsty. My head is aching. I feel like my mouth is dry and foamy. I have to pee.

I wander into the bathroom and do my biz. I come back to bed where apparently I'm not the only one who is overheated. Beau has come out from under the covers and is now on my pillow. Melanie is showing signs that she may be awake too. Her breathing has changed.

It's my socks. I'm doing an experiment, with no expected outcome. It's based lightly on the fact that once the weather starts to get colder, I shower less. To preserve my skin of course. When I come home from work in the afternoons I generally have to change my socks. The socks I wear to work aren't conducive to sneakers or hikers. So I grab white athletic socks. When it's colder. I grab the long ones that go half way up my calf.

Sexy.

So these socks stay on me through a walk or two with Beau and through dinner. If this were mid july, they would have come off after I did the dishes as I head to the shower. And this is even if I wore socks.

Summer=no socks.

The cold season means the socks are still on after dinner. Still on when I change into my 'lounge' pants. Still on when I check my email at 8pm. Still on when I take Beau for his final walk. Still on when I crawl in to bed.

Last night I swear the temperature rose a touch. My feet being the regulator for my body, were nice and toasty. Thus, my entire body, covered in the extra comforter added last week, was also...nice...and toasty.

Too toasty in fact. Even for X.

A wiser person would have removed the socks, opened the window further, ingested some cool water. I did two out of three. The socks are not coming off.

I needed them for the workout I just finished. I needed to get the longest life I could out of those socks....

They're still on my feet. The socks I put on after work yesterday.

Saves on laundry.

X

Throwing in the towel.

2008-10-06T05:42:00.002-04:00

Exercising is STUPID!

This morning was rough. Just now, as I was stretching, I felt as though I might vomit. And THAT would make me feel better.

jesus.

It's hard to get out of a warm bed and drag myself down to this godforsaken room just to sweat, shake, drool and grunt a little.

While I was doing this mountain climber move parallel to the ground, I almost decided to give up. To eat brownies and quit working out.

What the hell was that??

Within seconds I was brought to my senses.

Truthfully, I don't know that I was active enough this past weekend. I didn't eat entirely that well. And while I do give myself a little food vacation on the weekends, I'm still mindful of what I consume. And that will not lend to a good Monday morning work out. My body feels abused a little, I'm sure.

Let this be a lesson Remix.

We like what we like.

2008-10-05T19:00:00.003-04:00

How is it that the inventory from one stop and shop to the next can vary so tremendously??

I find that the stop and shop nearest us is generally jam packed. Specifically on Sundays. This should be a reminder to me to start my shopping again on Saturday mornings when it's DEAD.

Where was I? Oh yes, our S&S is almost always packed. It's ridiculous. There are other ones in my life. In Glastonbury, near the on ramp home--I sometimes go there. In Middletown (and while we live in Middletown, it's the Cromwell store that is closest in proximity)--If we're near the south end, we'll stop there. Or there's a nice one in Berlin. New. Reasonable amounts of shoppers turn out there. The deli guy gives Mel a slice of whatever Boar's Head chicken she's chosen for the week. We like it there.

But here's the thing. There are a few items that can ONLY be obtained without fail in Cromwell. They are as follows:

Nature's promise pita chips-sea salt
Joseph's Hummus-Roasted red pepper.
Turkey Hill Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough or Chocolate Peanut butter ice cream.

seriously. And we've learned this time and again.

Other places may have the ice cream and pita chips, but they only have tribe hummus or cedars. Mel won't stand for that.

They may have turkey hill, but it's all the crap flavors like tin roof sundae and neopolitan.

And for crying out loud. Nature's Promise is a stop and shop brand!! It was not at the Colchester store today. Nor was our ice cream.

So, we're standing there staring blankly in the natural foods section wondering what the heck to do. Get Stacy's pita chips? She makes good pita chips. But the nature's promise is a buck cheaper, and really...I think I like them better. But...I can't take it...two items on our list? Not here??? I turn to Melanie...

Me: I hate to admit this, but I've been to the frozen section and I had a breakdown of epic proportions.

Mel: Why?

Me: The turkey hill selection was for shit. One vanilla bean, no peanut butter, no cookie dough.

Mel: Oh. And now they don't have our pita chips.

Me: What do we do?

Mel: We'll swing by Cromwell and you'll run in. That okay?

Me: NO. But yeah--we need ice cream.

This did, in fact, result in us stopping in the Cromwell store after we spent a couple of hours in Colchester at the Pumpkins and Pooches thing they do on the green every year. Dogs and halloween all in one. Just give me a latte and a few bucks and I'm happy to wander around with Mel.

I just seriously need to know why it is that these stores don't all stock the same way? So that when I'm out of town or want to stop somewhere other than the hell that resides in Cromwell, it's not such a task...

Can I ask this much?

X

My dainty finger

2008-10-04T20:17:00.004-04:00

Based on the Elf's blog, I will inherit the bad cholesterol that cannot be controlled by diet. I was thinking about that this morning as I munched on the butter soaked nooks and crannies of a Thomas' English Muffin.

great.

I rolled my ankle this afternoon while I was searching for my wedding ring. It had fallen off at a friends house while I was putting beau in the back seat of the car. It just freaking flung off. It clinked and clanked, rolled a few inches, and then disappeared.

I looked down. Nada.

Shit.

This ring has the tendency to slide off of my finger whenever it's even moderately cold. I'm constantly pushing it back on or fiddling with it. It's truly a lost cause.

I bought this ring just over a year ago. A replacement to the original that seemed to have the same problem, but expected, as it had been purchased nearly 80 lbs ago. This one fell off to the point where I had to move it over to my fatter, more supple, middle finger. But a ring on that finger means nothing. It does NOT show that I paid my half of the civil union license.

So now, here I am, just over a year later in the same predicament. Do I buy a new ring? again? This will be my third.

I don't have a choice. I like to keep this ring on all the time. In the shower. Washing dishes. Hiking. Biking. Base Jumping and alligator wrestling. It's my commitment to Melanie and a symbol of how serious I am.

So there I was, searching where pavement meets yard. walking the line. And there rolls my ankle. Yeouch, that shit hurt.

I did find my ring. I wound up accidentally kicking it out of the leaves, causing it to scrape against the pavement. Scratching it up of course. Reason number 567 why titanium is the way to go.

It's now in the center console of the car. Not on my finger.

I'm off to shop for rings.

Remix.