Trial Run #1

I'm sitting here in full Hatter costume garb & half-ass trial makeup, commando, waiting for my rechargeable batteries to do their thing, all while Booboo is sitting here, staring at me like, "Mama. Seriously. WTF?"

Lemme 'splain.

My light is still out downstairs (imagine that), and my bathroom is literally SO TINY, that I can't even see a whole HALF of my body at one time. I could stand on the potty, but then I would only be able to see my torso - no feet or head. I really need to post pix of this place soon. It's kinda strange, what I'm living with.

Ok, so OUTSIDE the bathroom is a full-length mirror...tacked on to the BACK of the bathroom door, meaning I have to CLOSE the door in order to access it. So, when I do that - HEY, the light goes off! I've got about a hundred string and Christmas lights plugged in to wherever I could get them, but I still can't see for shit. In fact, there were two strands that I blew as I was plugging them in. Totally blew. Nothing. They are, like, now TRASH.

So, I CAN'T SEE WHAT I LOOK LIKE. And, at this point, I'm not confident enough in my loss of reasoning to blindly wander downstairs and frighten the neighbors - "SO. WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

Then, they move out the next day.

So, Imma set the cam up to take pix (front and back - *shivers*) to see what we're working off of right now. You know, see if I can squeeze myself in for a quickie plastics case before Saturday at 8p. I just realized, a couple of days ago, that this is the MOST these people will have ever seen my ass - the part that isn't metaphorical. I did have surgery there, but no one saw my ass. Just my hip-ass.

Oh, and the reason I'm commando is because I left my matching underpants up here, and now, I can't find them. *brood*

I know you really, REALLY can't tell, but I hate the way I look - in every meaning of the phrase. Yes, I did take a picture of myself in the dressing room, but I was also sucking in almost to the point of fainting.

I don't like the cake, but the cake likes me.

If anyone has any creative ideas on GREEN MAKEUP, let me know. The lining of my eyes didn't go so well tonight. We had several casualties, and I'm expecting more.

I still have to go get a bun, a mouse, and a teapot tomorrow. I really hate that it's raining, because all I want to do is sleep. I'm sure Monday I'll be sleeping off the hangover of the century, though. &=( That's totally ok, as long as there's no vomit involved. Or trick-or-treatery. Or blackmailish anything that makes me have to find another job. Again.

Oh, and I went to the doctor today about my neck, but I'll have to post that separately and later. I've been crabbing about starting back at the gym, and she does want me to do that, but I'm going to have to go at it so slowly, I don't know how I'm going to get anything accomplished. The main thing is, though, that I just have to go.

Alrighty, me tighties. It's after 10p, and I promised myself that I'd go to bed at a reasonable hour. I've piled all my hair onto the top of my head, I'm sleeping in this makeup, because I'm too lazy to take it off right now, and I've got myself some Lipton Mango & Peach White tea, waiting for me to come crawl into bed with. Not as good as a warm body, but it's better than that smelly homeless guy. I don't like when dudes smell like old, rank alkies. Not that I'm always a flower, but meh.


-\/\- I hate shopping -/\/-

So, I went shopping tonight, and I ran across so many interesting things. I wish you guys could have been there. I wish I had one of those Fear Factor face cams. Or a blag-head. That way, I could totally blag as things happened to me. Kinda like this:

{ ignore the volcano on my forehead &=( }
So, I put this little number on - one of those "keeps you all smooshied together, when you're planning on wearing tight-fitting things, that your guts might try to push their way through, and people will mistake it for a stray muffin sitting on your belly." I originally had to turn it backwards, in order to get the back cinched up (it was a bunch of clasps, kinda like on a bra), then I was going to turn it around and pull it up. If you can't already tell, it's on me completely sideways. See the boobs on the right side? So, I'm herking and grunting and cursing and thinking tiny, tiny thoughts, trying to get this bastard turned around, and I look down, and this is what I see:

Well, you're damn right it does. It stayed in place so well, I kept having to stop, and breathe, and turn myself upside down to get air, and tell myself I was ok, just so I could make it out of there alive. I have serious anxiety when I hang out in dressing rooms. And, when I try clothes on? Yeah, that just makes it worse. I prefer to just hang out in them, if I have to choose between the two.

I actually tried these out in the push-ups I was trying on,

but they made me look like, not an intimidating D, but a repellent, sick, objectionable, overfilled D, and I was pretty scared I was going to lose an eye...or someone was. They were just interesting to mess with, for someone who scores right at a 36B. &=( They don't teach you your bra size on the ACT, so I'm assuming that's why I scored so low.

I just think department stores are so ostentatious, with the ridiculous things with which they come up. Like this, for example:

It's two little pearls with an elastic string attached to one and hooking over the other, in order to keep the bra on the silk & foam hanger.

Wow. There are people dying in third world countries, but I'm sure we spend lots of money for people to throw in tons of money to research and analyze, in order to come up with something that like.

"Ted, we need something...SOMETHING that will keep bra straps from sliding off their hangers in the department stores. I mean, this is becoming an epidemic. We cannot let this continue. No more bras. Not anymore."

So, Ted went and invented THIS one. This was my favorite:

If you zoom in on it, it's unreal. I was THERE, and I could hardly figure it out. I think you have to have two keys, a binary password, and either face algorithm or fingerprint recognition to gain access to this mother. Either that, or written permission from your mom, dad or legal guardian... Needless to say, this one was tried on with the hanger still attached. And, it wasn't pleasant. No pictures exist modeling that one, except for the ones the department store took.

Here's the disaster that was left after I was done:

You just can't see the things hanging on the hooks and over the door.

I had started out at Victoria's Secret, but they didn't have what I was looking for. I ended up at JCPenney, and got probably 3x as much there, as I could have gotten for one bra at VS. I got two really nice bras, replacement straps, & two nice pair of underwear for what it cost for the one bra over which I was pondering at VS. I'm so thrifty. (not. ever.) Victoria's Secret is just that she overcharges. Don't let them tell you otherwise.

I got really lost, though, after I checked out, and I always think they rotate and hide the mall entrance from me. It's always on the opposite side of wherever I am or am going. So, I walked around the same department at least 5 times, before I realized what I was doing. I might have been the one who prompted the overhead page for "security check." Oops.

I've been in quite a fog lately.

I was desperately searching for some opaque white thigh highs in one of the other department stores in which I found myself. I'm thinking that must be one of those "no white after Labor Day" retarded rules that exists, because I couldn't find white stockings ANYWHERE. They were all black, brown, ecru, eggshell, full pantyhose, knee highs, and all of what I wasn't looking for. While I was busy dismantling the stores' selection of intimate-wear, this lady walked by, with her two kids in tow, and said, "Let's go. You're going to get me divorced tonight, if you don't hurry up."

Interesting remark to make to your two preschool-age children, who I'm sure didn't drag you there, kicking and screaming in the first place. I know I'm getting old, but I quite vividly remember hating shopping at that age. Ahhhh, I can still smell the glue that attached the rough, grey carpet to the hard floor, as I lay there thinking, "Shit. I wish I would have brought Moondancer (My Little Pony) and her princess robe and hairbrush."

Well, I probably didn't actually SAY Moondancer.......or shit.

I also made it by Spencer's, to purchase a black light, which I've been wanting anyway. Why not now, while I'm broke? But this is actually for decoration at John's party, that's going to be happening on Saturday. I'm still missing a stuffed, white rabbit, a tiny dormouse, and a teapot, but I'll probably drag myself out after work tomorrow, to see if I can locate those.

I hit up a couple of other stores, once I left the Galleria, to see if I could find those white tights to go with my costume. I actually ended up at one of those temporary Halloween stores - you know, the kind of holiday stores that crop up randomly - you never know when they're coming, and they're rarely ever in the same place....well, kinda like syphilis sores. It was the one over close to the Wal-mart in Hoover. I pulled up to park, opened the door to get out, and I manage to slip on a wet, old, mashy banana laying on the pavement - the only one in the parking lot, mind you. While my one leg was still in the car, awaiting further instructions, the active leg slipped on the banana and slid so far out, I almost had a baby.

I need to see if Ted will do some research on potentially violent bananas showing up in parking lots and accosting young women.

(Before you ask, I don't really know a Ted. If you do, let me know, because he's got a LOT of work to do.)

Then, when I was inside, I was making my way down the seriously cramped aisles, and I heard this guy say, "Yeah, but I STILL can't believe Dumbledore is gay!" As we were passing, I looked him right in the face and said, "I KNOW!" He and I stood there and stuttered and stammered over the absurdity of the subject, before I just said, "I'm sorry. I just can't talk about this," and walked away, shaking my head.

Yes, Hewy, she's pulling out this crap that D'dore is gay. A bit late for that, ay?

So, I'm home, now. I found some white tights at the Halloween store, but they have Dorothy's blue-and-white checkered bows on them, so I'll have to pretend I'm resourceful and take them off and replace them with the black ones I already have.

Where's that damn stapler?

I'm going to lay down now. We have cable. And, Aqua Teen is on. Granted, it's one I've already seen, but I kinda miss laying down, curling up in a warm blanket, and falling asleep with the tv on. Or like last night, passing out face-down, shirtless, still in pants and shoes...with the tv on.

One day, I'm going to get my schedule back together. But not this week, that's for damn sure.

I was supposed to be off for Voodoo this weekend, but since that fell through, I decided I'd go ahead and work Friday...but not Monday. I think I can have that day. And, they'll be ok. Derrick will be back anyway. So, Monday is all mine, to sleep in and do a ton of shit around here that really needs to be done.

Like sleep.


Apathy is spreading - but I'll never catch it.

My friend, Mindy, just sent me this picture, that I'm going to resize and put in the margin of my blag.

After I squalled my eyes out and kept sobbing over and over "&=( that little kitty!," this was my response:

In my opinion, apathy is the worst psychological state that exists in human beings. I can't imagine that scenario, where I just walked past anyone, human OR animal, and didn't act on it. If I did, I'd seriously want someone to kill me, because I think there's no purpose in the world for people like that.

This actually segues perfectly into another subject that I've been meaning to touch on, so I guess I can just compound the stories.


Back when it was really, really hot outside, right after I had moved into the attic and was eating giant bags of gas station ice for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and me and the girls were living directly in front of our only half-ass window unit, I had made one of my many trips to the nearby station to pick up my daily diet of bagged ice. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I saw this little lady standing on the side of the road, holding one of those signs, advertising for some furniture store.

Just so you know, that's completely ludicrous to me, to have human beings standing out in the blazing heat, holding freaking signs, just to get publicity/business. Those jokers that dress up in gorilla suits and twirl signs for Little Caesar's Pizza - I hope you have EMT's on standby...for real.


Anyway, back to my story. I didn't even need to see her face to know this wasn't what she needed to be doing. It was 90-something outside. Which, yes, if you live in Bama, you get used to the horrid weather; the changing from heat to AC in the same day. I went ahead and passed by her, and she just looked so defeated. So, I circled the block, pulled back in to the gas station, went in and bought a giant, cold bottle of water.

I pulled up behind her, and said hello as I walked up, so that I wouldn't scare her, although I know I still kind of surprised her. I reached out and handed her the water, without another word. Even now, the shocked look on her face is enough to make me cry. It was like seeing someone's complete astonishment at the fact that consideration and thoughtfulness still exist. I mean, all I did was buy her a water - it really was NOTHING on my part. But on her face, it looked like it meant so much more than that. She just stuttered and stumbled and kept thanking me, over and over. I just waved my hand, as I got back in the car, and said, "It's absolutely nothing. You just don't need to be standing out in this heat with nothing!"

*All I've ever wanted in my life is to be a vegetarian, ecologically-minded humanitarian. And, I completely don't care what anyone else thinks about that aspect of my behavior or principles.

When I was in health class at Jack State one day, we had a visitor. Several chicks started screaming and climbing on the tops of their desks. As I looked several aisles over, I saw the tiniest mouse, trying desperately to make his way through the classroom. I can't imagine what was going through his miniature brain, with all the commotion he caused! I simply stood up, walked over, scooped him up in my hand, took him outside to let him go, washed my hands and went back to class. Needless to say, I endured many odd looks through the rest of the semester. I've become extremely accustomed to those nowadays. *rolls eyes*

I figure, if an animal is going to bite me (which, of course, he didn't), then it bites me. I'll make a trip to the doctor's office - no biggie. If I get rabies, just don't come near me when I'm foaming at the mouth. It's all very simple, really.


When I was in junior college and would drive back and forth to Gadsden, on all those country back roads, I'd often come across a turtle trying to get across the road. I'd always stop my car in the middle of the road, with my hazards on, or pull off the side of the road. The terrapin would usually panic, retreating back into his shell as I approached. So, I'd lay down on the ground (yes, belly-down, on the road), to figure out which side was his head. Because I didn't want to just chuck him to one side or other of the road. I mean, what if I put him back where he started? Well, then he'd accomplished absolutely nothing, thanks to me. I stopped a fair amount of traffic doing this, pissing off many people, and just flipping them off as they drove by, honking and cursing - "GOD-DAMNED HIPPIE!"

Why, thank you very much! I'm glad you noticed. I am indeed a second-generation hippie and fucking proud of it. &=D

(yes, I'd stop traffic to save this lil guy, too.)


My uncle Gordon remembers this, I'm sure. My mom and I went to visit my grandmother one day, and as we got out of the car and were walking towards the house, we heard this crazy scratching from the back of one of my uncle's friend's truck bed. So, I peeped over the side and saw this GIANT lake turtle, scrambling to get out.

I KNOW that joker didn't crawl in there on his own, unless evolution was making a major leap, and that guy grew wings. I'm also not an idiot, and I knew what they were planning on doing with that turtle. I grew up in the freaking redneck capital of the world (to me, it was enough), and I know these weirdo southerners will deep-fry and eat just about anything that has a pulse, which, personally, disgusts me. &=P

Anyway, I grabbed that sucker out of the back, against his protesting hisses, stuck him in the backseat, and told my mom to drive like hell to the closest body of water. We drove right down the road, to the local civic center, and I put him in the lake there. My heart swelled with pride, as I watched him enter the water and frantically swim away. I remember thinking how glad I was that he was afraid of humankind. He should be. Look at what would have become of him.

It's ok, pal - you'd probably do better just putting the damage on dem Cheetos and beer. &=)

We went back to the house to visit and never said a word to anyone. When we got home, though, my uncle called, and he was PISSED. &=) Hey, you know, that's what you get when you have a budding psychotic environmentalist in your circle.


You know, my mother NEVER discouraged me from doing the crazy things I did. She was a little apprehensive that my life's goal was to end up in a tiny rubber raft, in the middle of the ocean, holding a sign that said "STOP THE DRILLING!" But she always pushed me to believe in what I believed and to never let anyone sway me. I'm incredibly open-minded, and I'll always listen to what people have to say (within reason), but you'll never change my mind. I'll always covet life, in any form.

The main point I'm trying to get across is that compassion and altruistic behavior should be more apparent in this world and should span across the spectrum of human and animal-kind****

Being patient and kind isn't difficult. People should try it more often...

It was all HIS fault

So, the birthday party night kinda ended with the birthday party girls looking like this...at almost 3 in the morning.

And, it's all the fault of this little guy:

This is (help me out, Shelb) "magic balloon boxcar."

Cute, right?

Ohhhhh, not so, my friends. Not so.

I'm just now getting home and getting settled, and it's exactly 4:36a - yes, in the morning. I have to be at work in, ohhhh, 2.5 hours. So, Imma go lay down for a couple, get up, go through the daily grind (with a little help from some caffeine buddies), come home, and explain to you why that tiny car will live in infamy.

I'm so delirious, I'm using commas for the letter "I" - this is SOOOO not going to be my day.

,'m gonna lay down now. ,'m exhausted, and ,'m having major problems fosucing......

Part Deux later....


...Completely mad...

Ok, I need a favor from someone. I went out to get my costume yesterday, and HOLY CRAP. I totally should have done it last week, like I said I was going to. Actually, I probably should have ordered it. But I'm the kind of shape that forces me to try things on before buying. So, the Alice costumes were all out, and I ended up with Mad Hatter. Which is fine, but I had a friend say that no one would know who that was. And, if you don't, you really should get out more.


Ah, to the favor. If ANYONE has a colorful teapot and teacup that I can borrow for my Halloweener party, I'd REALLY appreciate it. I just want something to go with my costume, and I'm going to run by Wal-mart (BLAH) to see if I can find a tiny white bunny or mouse or something to add to the effect...of being mad.

I'm headed out to the Pell right now, for mine and Shelb's (and everyone else's) missed birthday parties. We've just been so crazy, what with Amy in school and me working 6 days a week, that we haven't had a chance to hang out and do birthdays and stuff like we used to. It's really been a crazy year.

Blah. I have to go. I'll probably post again when I get home, because I've got a total lot on my mind. Like a serious acre of stuff.

Anyway, we gotta talk.

Me and the computer.

Or me and oblivion.

You know, whatever works.

God, now it makes sense that the Mad Hatter costume was the only thing left.


Mad as a hatter:
Completely mad. This is now commonly understood to mean crazy, although the original meaning is unclear and may have meant annoyed.


That's DEFINATELY wrong

Oh my flippity-crap. This WHOLE TIME OF MY ENTIRE EXISTENTIALLY EXISTENT LIFE, I've been spelling "definitely" wrong!


I couldn't possibly make that frowny face any bigger. But that's just because Blogger won't let me MAKE A WHOLE BLOG OF FROWN!


I feel so...........DEFEATED!!!!!!!!!!!

This is EXACTLY like that time I had to take the blackboard in Mrs. Thomas' second grade class and write out "because," and TO THIS DAY, that public trauma has caused me to misspell it "beacause" EVERY DING-DANGITY FLIPPITY-FUCKING TIME!!!!!

Just so you people know, I make up my OWN LANGUAGE, and I don't really care who understands it. "Beacause" if you don't understand me, you won't EVER understand it. You fuckers know how I am about my grammar. Or grammer. Who the fuck knows anymore????? Up is white, down is cheese sammich.


Anyway, I've gone through my entire blog and corrected all those DEFINITE mistakes.

I'm gonna go throw up now. Forever.


Pains & Planes


I shit you not - I CAN'T BREATHE. My back is all knotted up, and I made Dave poke around on it, and he said, "You know those are your trigger points for fibro."

Well, effing great.
*kicks something*

So, now I have to cancel my appt with the spine doctor and see if I can get in, with the quickness, to see the rheumatologist. Dave said that, more than likely, if I can just get them to up my meds from 75mg bid to 150mg tid, I should start feeling markedly better.

My left arm and shoulder are killing me. If I was any more an idiot, I'd actually think I was having a heart attack. But, it can't be, because:
A. my chest isn't hurting
#5. the pain is going down the back of my left arm, and
$. the pain in my scapula is a dead giveaway.
Actually, I think it's more rhomboid and levator scapular pain, as opposed to just straight-up scapula.

And, you thought rhomboid was just an annoying term your geometry used to confuse you.

Also, I'm going to have to sleep on the heating pad tonight which is a TEE-total no-no. But, for God's sake, I've got to get some relief. Dave pulled on my head, and traction does always help, but unless I can wheel myself around in some portable traction unit, it ain't gonna make a whole lot of difference. The kind of traction I need is like hanging from the doorframe. I really think that if someone just hung me by my head (no, NOT my neck, jackass) and kicked me out the window, that would solve SO many of my problems...probably even financially! You know how chiros are always trying to fix broken toes by realigning T4-7? Well, maybe my bad juju just comes from a jacked-up occiput! &=D HARHARHAR!!!! Omg! I crack myself up with random technical medical jargon!

It's the only thing I know, so go with me on this.

Ahhhhhh, anyway. Oh, shit. I meant to get some towels from the hospital, so that I could make a bump for my neck. Like it's going to DO any good, but my neck has been liking when I ball my pillow up and lay on my back. My psyche, though, does not. I have that "spiders crawling in mouth" fear.

Speaking of fears, I also have an irrational fear that a plane will land on the interstate.

But I mean the BIG kind...like one of those new A380 Airbus's that seats 550 people.

Yes, I'm ascared of planes. And spiders.



Ok, ok, NO, I didn't post like I said I would, but I'm pretty sure most of you are used to that by now, the fact that things with me don't ALWAYS PAN OUT. If not, you really...shouldn't be here, and that's the God's honest truth.

Ohhhhh, anyway, it's like midnight:30, and I should be in bed, and I'm 'bout to be. I just wanted you guys to know that I cleaned house ALL DAY, and my entire spine (and knee, yes) is killing me. For once, though, the weather was nice, and I was able to be a little more mobile than I've been feeling these past few chilly days.

My spine is getting pretty bad, though. I actually think I'm going to start back to the gym, even though doc's saying no. I just won't do leg work. But I've got to stay mobile. This winter is going to be baaaaaaaad, and I say that without the inflection of a sheep.

Once again, I'm in the pooper with finances - I just can't figure out who I owe, how much, when, etc, etc, so I'm liable to have things cut off. As you all know by now, my phone DOESN'T WORK. I don't get messages, even when people leave them. It turns itself off and is just a general pain in my butt. But, I still have to get out of the financial straits with them before I can be asking for a new phone, phone number, etc.

Oh, and here's a good one: I slipped and fell off the porch yesterday and sliced my finger wide open. THIS TIME, though, I wasn't drinking. And I was by myself, thank God. But it's my left bird finger, which means nothing. My whole left hand is a joke anyway. It's just there to even everything out, you know - make me symmetrical. It really has no function. Anyway, the cut was so deep, that I thought I was going to have to go get a couple of stitches, but I managed to steep the bleeding on my own, and nearly amputate my own finger in the process. Good for me.

Um, what else? Yeah, I'll have to blag on the concert tomorrow. Ummm....crap. Every time I walk away from the 'puter, I think of all this other stuff I need to mention. Oh, I've been so fucking stressed out about everything, I managed to make myself start my period a week early. And, I'm ON birth control (for no reason), so there's no way I should be just randomly starting. But that's just my thing.
When I get nervous, I get diarrhea.
When I get super-stressed, I start my period.
Some of the primary reasons I CHOOSE not to be around people when I'm like this. Plus, the pain I'm enduring right now is pretty fucking ridiculous. But, I've decided that if I start back to the gym, that will help my endorphins kick in and kind of mute the pain. Because I'm not exaggerating a bit when I say I'm hurting.

And, pain, my friends, is my enemy. It makes my brain go nuts. I can't focus well, and I become a raging bitch. I'm assuming I'm going to be PMS'ing until January, when I have my surgery. Pardon me, if I become extremely reclusive. It's never personal, except for me. I don't like to be around people, when I feel this shitty. And, MAKING myself do things that I don't want to do doesn't help. Trust me - I'm pretty keen on the subject of "me." That's what I did my graduate thesis on.

Oh yeah, and the other thing is, I'm out of my meds (and out of money), so I haven't been taking them, and I constantly feel like there's a car wreck <carwreckcarwreckcarwreckcarwreck> happening in my brain. My whole face is numb, and I stay really confused.

I'm not asking for handouts or anything. I'm just explaining to youse guys why I'm going to be weird and extremely inexplicable (and raging) for a while. If you can't handle it, there's a door around here somewhere.

Please don't take this personally, but if you can't handle me for who I am, then take a fucking hike. And, I can completely do without the "personal help" tips. As I like to say, I'VE GOT THIS. It's all about time for me right now, and things just aren't happening fast enough. I don't NEED anyone's help - just your fucking understanding and patience.

Oh yeah, the house (my house) is thinking of having a post-Halloween costume party either 11.2 or 11.3, so I'm inviting you all. I'll do it again closer to time, but this is all in the works right now. We were just talking about having a huge Halloween party, and inviting everyone we knew, but everyone is either having or attending parties the weeks before and of Halloween. So, we've preemptively decided to do it this way. Like I said, we're still deciding, so I'll let you know the details as it evolves.

One more thing, I've been mentioning very little in the ways of my "love interests," and it's kinda gonna stay this way. I know the dude that I like knows it, but I don't know that he KNOWS it. Plus, he's one of those ones that I'm pretty sure is out for looks alone - he has a certain facade to maintain, unfortunately - but I'm working off of my "nerd cred" - that's when you're around so much, that when things fall apart for that person, they automatically zone in on you - kinda like rebound. But, I adore him and I love spending time with him (when I get to), and that's all I'm going to say on that subject. The end. &=D

Um, what else? God, so much. But I really need to lay down. I'm already not needing to go into work on this little sleep. There's also no way I can call in, either. Derrick, my partner-in-crime-in-surgery, his wife had her baby on Friday, so he won't be in for at least 2 weeks. Congrats, but buddy, I'm gonna miss you during those fucking Siegel frat parties. &=( I get nervous when there are more than 50 PEOPLE IN THE ROOM, HELLO PEEPULLSSS??!11!??! WE'RE DOING SURGERY IN HERE!!! I'M SO SORRY TO SPOIL YOUR TESTOSTERONE PARTY!!!

Nah, it's really not that incredibly bad. Derrick and I just have our cases worked out, to where we split between the things each of us can stand. For the fact that he does the Siegel cases, I usually do the Gould and Kirchner cases - it works out really well, because he hates doing those, and I love them. Both of us can do everything down there, and we get really pissed when someone throws a wrench into our system we have worked out, but we've just got it set where we're able to each do the things we can tolerate! Lmao! &=D It's killer, though - I love doing surgery. Hell, I love my job. And, I'm SOOOOO much more productive when I don't feel like shit. &=(

Oh, new development! I've just come to the realization that I am NOW a closet ICP fan. Well, I guess me blagging about it on the interblag doesn't make me very closety, huh? Oh well. I was Wiki'ing (hey, I verbed!) "Juggalo" the other day, and I ended up d'loading one of their songs to listen, JUST TO SEE what the big, hairy deal was.

I loved it. &=(

So, apparently, I am now a "Juggalo, -ette." And, I'm very sad about it. I've ended up d'loading a ton of ICP, Twizted, Kottonmouth Kings & Psychopathic Rydas. I mean, I'll admit that I grew up listening to Neil Diamond, the first cd we ever owned was Flimm & the BB's "Tunnel," and the first concert I ever attended was Anita Baker "Rapture" in 1986. But for some reason, admitting that I've fallen prey to the Psychopathic Record group...I mean, I even stumble over the phrase. &=( I mean, for God's sake, I remember when they were voted as worst band ever by Blender! And, NO, I don't get into the whole wrestling thing. That's just crap to me. I'm no UFC girl. I do my own UFC just making it through the day.


**** New challenge - tell me something embarrassing about you, something you LOATHE admitting to others. ****

Just do it. It will amuse me. It will make me feel better.


are you READYYYYY??????

Okey doke - big blogging needing to happen. But right now, I AM EXHAUSTED. Even though I wasn't impressed with the overall show, my beloved >orn can still kick it with the old school stuff.

For now, I'll leave you with these:

Me & my buddy, Dwane ^ - by the way, thanks for picking up the tab at Iguana, there buddy! Like I said - NO SHAME! &=D

Woah, who took that kick-ass photo of JD? Oh, just I TOTALLY DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KK, gotta go get my laundry out of the dryer, say 'night to the housemates and lay like death. I'm so friggin' tired from rocking out and hiking around in stack boots.

We'll talk more tomorrow. Promise.


hurting, bitching & posting don't mix (Jezzy pix!)

My neighbor's dog, Emma, pooped out a fully-intact condom the other day.

Ok, actually, she half-pooped it, and Justin half-pulled it. So, it's 100% out. It's also 100% gross. Unfortunately, if it was a Trojan, she was so protected from her meal, she probably got no nutrients...at least that's what the back of the box claims. Plus, there was no crack in it, so I'm assuming she smoked it before she ate the condom. &=)

Also, when I took a dump the other day, it smelled like canned dog food. You know, I haven't had dog food since my grade school hazing.

What's the dealio with dog food? Is someone trying to tell me something? That nutritionist can kiss my veg-o-matic ass.

On the subject of dogs, here are some recent pics of my sweet Jezzabelle, from her papa:
God, I miss that girl. My whole life, I've always been a cat person. But, when we got Jezzy as a baby (we drove almost to freaking North Carolina to pick her up, for God's sake), I immediately fell in love with her, no matter what she did. Believe it or not, I'm not one for corporal punishment for animals, but I'd beat a child within an inch of it's life. But, that's just because humans have the ability to reason. Plus, you have to keep their will broken, so that they'll remember who's boss.

Anyone curious as to why I don't have kids, yet? Yeah. Me neither.

Well, that, and I'm pretty sure there are certain other parts that are missing, in order to achieve the so-called "baby." Anyone with an IQ under AT FUCKING LEAST 100 need not apply. Yes, I've set high standards for myself. I'm sick of dealing with these idioms who couldn't even tell you what an idiom really was:

*Idiom: [id-ee-uhm] an expression whose meaning is not predictable from the usual meanings of its constituent elements, as kick the bucket or hang one's head, or from the general grammatical rules of a language, as the table round for the round table, and that is not a constituent of a larger expression of like characteristics.

And if you can't understand that I make up my own language, you might need to just not. Yes, that's what I said - just NOT. For example, I can call someone an idiom, but I really know what it means, everyone ELSE knows what it really means, but you've just been left behind in the grammatical dust. In fact, there came a point in my life when I realized that I can do and say whatever I damn well please. Now, when was that? Oh, yes - it was when I turned 30.

So, bite me. &=)

Ok, my shoulda hurts, my back doth protest, and my knee has been completely numb for the past hour that I've been sitting here. I've got much more on which to update, but I'm working off of Windows ABC right now, because my buddy Dave is supposed to be bringing me the updated, non-crashie service pack tomorrow. This thing has been a real bi-otch to soup up. I'm just about ready to pour actual soup in it and call it a day, stupid friggity. (That was a joke, for those of you with IQ's under 15.)

Ahhhh, my posts are SOOOO bitchy, when I'm in pain.

Get REAL used to it.

Love you, peeps! &=******

Ah, crap. I just looked over, and Jammy Pie had her WHOLE FACE in my Spongebob cup of water. Dammit. Now, I have mustache-water. Gross. They're totally the reason I cover my toothbrush up when I leave in the mornings.


Que Sera, Sera - What will I be?

I'm WAAAY too lazy (and trashed - long story) to use the energy to put up a poll, but here's the deal.

I need your help in picking a costume - this year, I'm either going as Alice in Wonderland (front and back of same costume):
or the Mad Hatter (2 dif costumes from which to choose):

Please email me or post a comment including your vote for which costume. There's always a possibility that you may run across me in the grocery store, dressed in the very costume you chose! I'm just a complete and total sicko like that!

I'll have to get a blonde wig, obviously, to go as Alice, but the Mad Hatter keeps my own crazy curls (because the Mad Hatter had dark hair). And, as I say EVERY YEAR, yes, I have to lose a metric ton of weight, but I'm going as is this year - broke knee and all - since my surgery was unsuccessful in getting me back to the gym, like I had originally anticipated. Grrrrrrrrr........

I'll be out of town from Oct 26-28, in order to attend (what I'm hoping will become a long-standing tradition for me) Voodoo Fest in N'awlins.
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at PhotobucketPhoto Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I'm going with a couple of friends, and I'm incredibly excited!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket *The ever-popular Corna for your viewing pleasure*

But, I'll be back in time to enjoy some Halloween fun, which, according to this calendar, occurs on a Wednesday.

Um, blah? And, a happy birthday to my ex-love? Yes, I say that.

I haven't picked up a paper to see what's happening in town for Halloween, so I guess I should do that, to see what plans I'll be making for myself!

Sean, no "this IS my costume" t-shirts.

And Anna, I'm going to come find you and force you to dress up and go out and have fun with me!!!! &=P DO IT!!! You know you want to!

Dwane, you're just a butt for being out of town and doing what your job "tells you to do." But at least we're going to see >orn this weekend, right????? WOOOOO!!!! Aw, and me without a clean bustier - oh well, people will deal.

Heather, I'm still holding you to the Dumb and Dumber costumes for next year, ok? Don't EVEN pretend you're growing out of being a retard, just because you're some freaky school marm. You can hang that vision up. Soccer mom, my ass.

Alrighty, then. I'm on my 3rd beer and second klonopin, so I'm gonna be working my way towards the bed at this current moment. I had a complete and total meltdown today, which started with the pains in my knee and neck, continued on with my inability to find my TROM brace (to maintain the little stability I have), a new revelation that my old apartment complex is sending me to collections with a bill of over $1200 FOR NOTHING, for when I moved out, and finally culminated in the fact that I screwed myself over when signing up for benefits for the following year, so it turns out that I'll be able to contribute NOTHING to my 401K, B, 457GXQ, WTFEVER IT IS NOW.

So, my friend Dave came over to drop some stuff off for my computer, and God bless him, ended up putting the thing together, while I lay in the floor and sobbed and snotted and cried and bawled and cursed and kicked and screamed. But he was just like, "We'll fix it. Whatever it is, we'll fix it." I absolutely adore him. He's awesome. He just hugged me and hugged me while I squalled my eyes out. And, you people know how I am - succumbing to ANY weakness (like crying), especially in front of people you don't really KNOW-know, makes you a total pussy, and you should be drug out in the street and shot a hundred times, then have a motorcycle peel off on your face. But, you know, that's just my personal opinion...and only about myself. Anyone else, I could care less how they handle their business.

Well, and then he took me to get food, because I'm all out of money. He tried to give me a $20 later, but I wouldn't take it. I've fucking gotten myself INTO this shit somehow, and I'll be mother-fucking damned if I'm gonna get my own damn self out.

As they make fun of me saying now...."I GOT this."

Well, now, I gotta pee. So, vote. Tell me which one is the bestest of the 3. Gimme inputs.

WOAH, I just burped big. That was a lot of beer for me, in 20 minutes.

'Scuse me. Je ne sais quoi! (I know not anything!)


Stature of Limitations

I have the stature of a trash can. The crotch of my scrub pants are normally located somewhere around my knees, because I'm a closet low-rider. (Well, I can't be THAT closeted if everyone knows what kind of underpants I'm wearing...) I can't stand pants on my waist. So, I walk around all day, hiking my pants legs up, because they're always attached to the undersides of my shoes. On the flip side, when I wear sweatpants, I pull them down so that they ARE on the undersides of my feet.

I'm sick like that.

Anyway, if saggy pants are wrong, I don't wanna be right.


Since you're here, here's your earplugs...

You know, as you all can imagine, I'm not incredibly good at paying attention. In fact, my attention is somewhat bankrupt, especially at the moment.

My knee has been at the forefront of my mind, obviously because of the severe pain I'm in. Once again, I don't talk about it, unless it's really bugging me. So, I've been a bit of an antisocial at work - not my cheery, bubbly, bouncy self that I normally am. And, of course, I get the ever-popular "What's wrong with you?"

Well, mother-fucker, since you used such a hateful tone but were so kind to ask, I'm in pain. It's pretty much immutable and uninterrupted.

THEN, I get to get EVERYONE ELSE'S second opinions: Why did you have that done? Why did you let him do it? Why didn't you get a second opinion? You mean, you're going to let him do it again? You can't be hurting as bad as ME - I stubbed my toe the other day on the bed and it has a bruise now!

Lemme tell you a little, tiny yet somewhat important something about me. I don't like when other people give me advice. ES-SUPER-SPECIALLY when I didn't ask for it. I have a best friend and family for that. Not to say that other people don't have my best interest in mind, but I'm pretty sure other people don't have my best interest in mind. Lots of the people I know talk purely for the satisfaction it gives them to hear themselves talk. Not that I blame them - sometimes I do it, too. I don't think it's because I like to hear myself, though. I think I just have a real problem stopping the air from crossing my vocal cords.

Ok, so anyway, all these people have been giving me a hard time about my surgery, and I think I'm just going to start climbing onto peoples' backs and saying, "Ok, Jesus, or whoever you think you are to be telling me what I should and should not do, since I shouldn't be having surgery, YOU CARRY ME AROUND FOR THE REST OF MY EFFING LIFE."

Like I said, I'm no puss. I can deal with pain. I've been dealing with some pretty severe pains for the past several years - back & neck, mainly - and unless you're a close, personal friend of mine, it's rare that you'll hear me mention anything that's bothering me, physically or mentally, for that matter. Be glad of it. Revel in it. Thank God for it. And, for Christ's sake, keep your fucking opinions to yourself!

Oh, that's the other thing that drives me bat-shit, is when someone asks, and I say, "nah, my back is just bothering me," then I get the "well, I broke 75 vertebrae in my back AND both my legs AND was on life support for a year and a half AND I couldn't remember my family when I woke up, so I had to start a new life, blah, blah...."

Look, people, I'm not trying to one-up anybody. If you want to be the most pitiful thing alive, OMFG, BE MY GUEST. I'm not, for one second, saying that my pain and suffering has been any greater than anyone else's, but Jesus H, I'm the only person I've ever BEEN, so I'm the only person I'll ever KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT. As I've said MANY, MANY times before, my experiences are my own, and no one knows how they made me feel except me. No one knows what exactly happened, except me. No one knows what lasting effects they've had, except me. No one knows what keeps me up late at night, except me. And, no one has the right to pry and give me a hard time about it...no, not even my therapist.

I'm just convinced, after far too much deliberation, that people just don't know how to talk to each other. There are several people with whom I work (and know), who have the world's most hateful tones in their voices. They could be telling you happy birthday, but for some reason, their tone makes you want to walk out to the top level of the parking deck and jump off. If I'm pissed, and I want you to know, you're gonna know. But the rest of the time, unless I'm playing or being retarded, I like to put a little bit of kindness and cooperation into the sound of my voice. I may outwardly agree with what you're saying, but 9.5 times out of 10, I think you're much more psycho than me, and I'd just like to end the conversation and walk away with all my body parts intact.

So, there. I always enjoy having discussions with people, but once you become one-sided and try to be my mom, something you'll never achieve, I completely shut down. To those of you who think I'm just being a complete bitch, welcome to me. I have that tendency, but I'll also pull my "girl card" for this one.

And, here's a suggestion. If you don't want me to be a bitch, don't be a dumbass. I know - it's a LOT to ask of some people, and I've come to where I don't even expect it anymore. But if you're going to act like a retard, expect to be treated like a retard.

Wow, that was a subject that's been bothering me for some time. But, herein lie the reasons that I just walk away from most people while they're talking. Number one, I'm pretty sure they don't even know I'm standing there (I have a tendency to be somewhat invisible - both good and bad), and they could give a shit what I have to say (I experience this A LOT). Number two, I don't condone violence to solve problems, but I also have serious rage issues, and I've come to understand that my best option (and your teeth's) is for me to just leave. Number three, most people become so enraptured with themselves, your "dialogue" turns into their "monologue" - they couldn't care what you were saying if you were on fire.

So, TADA! Most people are idiots who only care about themselves. If you're one of them, I'm very sorry. I have my selfish moments, but at least I've come to a point in my life where I can recognize and admit them. I mean, hell, this li'l ol' blag ri'chere is a good example of my narcissism! And, if you don't want to know things about me, then maybe you should STOP READING.

Hey, here's a challenge! Tomorrow, before you do or say something stupid, use some common sense. Think about how it looks coming out of your mouth. If your answer to someone else having said it turns out to be, "God, what a jackhole," or "Hey, that really hurt my feelings," THEN DON'T SAY IT.

You'd think with as much as I bitch about this crap, I'd never be a happy person. But I can guaran-damn-tee you that I'm the only person in that hospital who smiles or speaks to everyone I pass in the hallway. I'm kind and considerate to my patients. I listen intently to my coworker's woes. I'll pat people on the back just for the hell of it. And, I give hugs out to people who just look like they need them.

Don't be an ass. Everyone has problems, and you're no more special than anyone else, no matter what those voices are telling you.

And for God's sake, unless you're planning on coming to take care of me (which I would never allow), then get off my ass about what I do with my life. I'm doing the best I can with the resources I have, so bite me. Sorry to be so bitter, but I've been getting peoples' critiques WAAAAAAAAAY more than I care to.

Ahhhhh....feels better.

Now, if I could just have this blog made into a t-shirt, I'd wear it everywhere I went. It's much better than "You look like I need another drink."


Why not use a glass case? and a terrorist...


Can someone PLEASE explain to me the THEORY and REASONING behind Schrodinger's Cat??!?!

Who the hell was Schrodinger anyway? This joker TOTALLY got up on the wrong side of the proverbial universe.


I don't like'em spiders, hokay?

I've found a new site (well, it's new to me) called "Say No to Crack," which is just basically a humour site, and this is a pretty good example of why I like it:

lolspiders - yuck

These are pictures of what I guess could be deemed "lolspiders," but I just love his/her caption that follows:

"Furthermore, they are completely harmless, unless you fall asleep and they crawl down your throat and into your ear canal via the eustachian tube where they make their way up to your brain to control your every move for the next 48 hours before you die a slow painful death as a zombie, eaten from the inside out. Or not."

Because, you know? That's how spiders roll.

ehhhhhh.......*shivers violently*


You suck at talking.

I'm done squalling my eyes out...for now.

So, I went to see my doc today about my knee, and as it SO FANTASTICALLY turns out, I'm almost 99% guaranteed to have to have surgery again at the beginning of the year.

Like I said, I'm done crying for now.

My knee has REALLY been bugging me. Like worse than in a long, long time. I figured it was weather, or healing, or something retarded, and I was just being a weenie, although I really haven't said much of anything to anyone, until really recently. People would catch me limping and be like, "Hey, what th..." "Yeah, it's just achy today. It's probably gonna rain." The thing is, when I start limping, it's usually KILLING me. It's been hurting pretty solidly for the past month or so. But I just figured I'd dismiss it until my follow-up.

I went in today about 730a and had them take my x-rays, because I knew I'd be super-busy in surgery and probably not able to make it over there right at 230p or whatever. I looked at the pictures, and my heart just fell. It didn't look ANY different than the pictures we took 2 months ago. But I thought, 'maybe he'll see something I'm not, and everything will be cool.'

Yeah - not quite, Pollyanna.

When I finally made it over there at 345p for my actual appointment, he came in my room, and said, "Jennifer, come look at this with me."

Uh oh. I know I'm a tech and all, but even his tone didn't sound encouraging.

So, we walk out to the monitor and he asks me if I'm having any pain - I said "immense." He then launches into the fact that it's not doing anything...at all. It looks EXACTLY the same as two months ago: the graft hasn't taken (and has virtually been absorbed back into my body or worn away), the bone hasn't fused, the space in between the two pieces are almost exactly the same width as before. He said that he wouldn't be as concerned if I wasn't having any pain, but the fact that it's killing me has him worried. I said, "Dr. Stannard, I swear I've done everything you've told me to do! I haven't taken NSAIDS, I haven't been active with it AT ALL, my life has pretty much come to a standstill." I didn't tell him this, but I've stopped taking any pain medication at all for it, because I'm terrified it was somehow psychosomatic - no dice.

He said he wasn't at all worried that I wasn't doing what I wasn't supposed to be. He said that since it's been three months, it should be looking like something, and I should be experiencing incredible relief, but it's pretty much had the opposite effect. He said the articular surface of my knee (the back part that actually touches my knee guts) looks smooth and clean - from that aspect, you can't even tell it's broken (ok, except for the giant screw).

So, I just laid my head in my hands and told him to start giving me my options.

First, he said we could go back in, just take out the broken piece and be done with it, but there's no guarantee that my pain would subside. Besides, he doesn't want to just chuck a giant piece of my knee in the garbage, and frankly, neither do I. He said that it's actually big enough that if removed, it could possibly cause problems for my lateral patellar ligament later on in life. Figures.

The second option was to go back in (why not?) and actually use the super-expensive rh BMP (recombinant human bone morphogenic protein) that insurance said I couldn't use the first time around, because it had to be on a failed attempt. Well, here's your failed attempt, assholes. This stuff is actually like supercharged bone that works really well at promoting bone growth and healing fractures. But, he said, instead of doing the RIA (reamer-irrigator-aspirator) on my hip, which I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle again, he said we could just use allograft in place of that. Allograft is basically cadaver bone.

A dead chick's bone as opposed to drilling into the core of my femur, leaving me with the world's biggest ass-bruise and the potential to predict oncoming storms like the frigging Channel 6 Weather-Tracker??? All I can say to that is bring it on.

I had almost sagged completely to the floor when he backpedaled a bit. He said, "Did we not use the bone stimulator on you?" I shook my head, with not much hope that this was going anywhere except under the knife. A bone stimulator is a little portable device that uses ultrasound waves to stimulate fractures to heal, but somehow sometimes works on non-healing fractures. He said that he wants to try me on a bone stimulator, for 25 minutes a day, for the next two months, to see if we can get this stupid thing to do something. I asked him how long does it normally take to be able to start seeing some action and he said that the two months should do it. That will put me into December, and if I come back, and still nothing has happened, then we'll have to go back in. So, I'll be able to make it to January and all my off-time will have renewed itself, so I can get it done right at the start of the year.

I can already see my New Year's resolutions:
  • get out of bed
  • take shower - standing up!
  • call AA for morphine-withdrawal support
  • brush teeth
  • stop screaming for help from attic window - really starting to piss off neighbors
  • change bed sheets (what IS that smell, anyway?)
  • empty potty chair (oh...thaaat)
Of course, I don't HAVE to do any of this. But if I don't, there's a possibility that I'll just get so sick of it, that I'll wake up in the middle of the night and hack it off with a plastic spoon. That could cause some major stress and confusion in the morning to follow.

So, I talked to Wynne, Stannard's nurse, and she got me set up with the lady who's going to come fit me with the stimulator tomorrow. Then, I went and set up my follow-up appointment for December. Then, I got on the elevator and bawled my face off.

I'd just had such hopes for starting back at the gym and getting back on the treadmill, and now it's been postponed AGAIN, because of this stupid knee thing. I mean, who the hell knew a kneecap could HURT like this??!? &=( I'm incredibly upset. I'm not mad with Dr. Stannard - I know he knows what he's doing. I just don't think my knee was paying attention. This is ridiculous. Knees are ridiculous. Stairs are ridiculous. People who have to have a solitary bag for every one of their groceries are ridiculous.

Ahhh, I could go on, but I won't.

Oh, and as a sidenote, I had to watch Cinder for my surgeon-friend again, and he kept bugging the crap out of me about some kind of payment, and I told him just to leave me alone about it - I'm nearby, I wouldn't do it if I didn't want it. So, he came in to surgery this morning with a present for me! I opened it up, and it was a wooden duck! Actually, it's called a Dcuk, and it's a hand-carved in Indonesia out of renewable bamboo and recycled teak. I actually knew that from the first time I ever saw these things on the interblag. They also have individual names, and my baby dcuk's name is Ivan! &=D That was a nice gift to get for someone - I mean, I usually get crap like Chik-Fil-A coupons or fur-lined gloves or something. It's like, 'Hello? Do you know the first thing about me?'

I could go on about this subject (in more ways than one *wink*), but it's impractical.

Oh, and our DePuy rep, Sean, said his dog, Daisey, didn't come home last week, so I'd ask if he'd found her, and he said he did, but she had been hit by a car! &=( He was really sad about it and talked about what a sweet girl she was. That makes me sad. I said that I'd most definitely still be mourning and wearing black. I'm sorry, Sean and Daisey!!! &=(

Ok, I'm headed to bed. I'm exhausted, and I didn't make a point of getting in the bed on time tonight, because I was so upset. Tomorrow, hopefully...