Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Patience is the virtue....Blah.Blah.Blah.

Today I feel like a lady of not so many words yet a lot on my mind. My tongue wants to shout out profanities in every single language, and I don't know why.

I don't feel like getting into my trauma drama and hell but I want to say this. I want to yell this from the top of my lungs. Patience sucks. How long do you have to wait until patience just turns into forever?

And just what is normal really? Each of us have our own perspective on normal? Hell. I think, at times, that I am normal. Then I take the blood pressure cuff off of my neck and inhale again and realize that, Nope, I am certainly not normal. But at least my blood pressure is good.

But is it okay for someone else to call me odd? Because I live a different life? And because your life is boring and not as interesting as my life of stories filled with poop, stress, poop, puke, poop, kid, poop, husband, poop, dogs, etc.

And back to the patience. Why do I feel just when good things are going to happen, it all takes the wrong turn right into the city dump? I seriously feel that at times, my "thinking" positively leads to negative things. I gotta be honest, I feel seriously jinked at times. Is that normal?

I may not be lucky.....but I am blessed. I have my family, my husband, my sweet daughter whom I adore, my friends, my faith, my angels. But sometimes I still feel hopeless. I know my blessings and are so very thankful but I still cannot shake the feeling of discouraged and ill fated.

Why does contentment feel impossible for me? I never feel content. I always feel edgy, agitated, skittish, ecetera.

I am tired. I admit. I have been sick. I need a few hundred beers and I could use a good day of happiness. I could use some alone time. I could use a whole lot of something but I don't know what because I am fidgety. And this post is all over the place and it makes no sense and that is EXACTLY how I feel.

Time. Patience. Virtue. Ugh.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Oh Shit balls.

First and foremost. I have mono.

*applause all around for the sick bitch.*

Second, my loins, my muscles, my tendons, my hair. It all hurts. Why? Because of that evil ho Jillian and her 20minute workout. Owwwwiiiieeee.

I am a warrior and I am gonna work through the burn again today. Maybe. Well. We'll see. This is where I need some super dooper support.

Too bad my blog has gone from a solid "C" straight to a "F". I still have my friends that frequent though and they are pushing me through. Read the comments of my last post. Stlbee....she is there for me. Thank you Boo-Boo McFoo. She knows my pain.

Have I ever told you that I am a baby when it comes to pain?

My daughter, well, she is making me age in dog years now. Sassy McSassa Frass is grounded for oh....I don't know.....a lifetime. The child, whom is boarder line OCD, ADHD and could possibly have some sort of sensory disorder just HAD to wear gaucho's on a MAYBE 40* day. I pick my battles. Then, as the child entered the windy outdoors that had a bite to it, she complained and ironically, it was all my fault for allowing her to wear them.

I got peeved and told her to walk to school (It's 3 freaking blocks people). She questioned child abuse and was once again, grounded for a second lifetime. As a not so patient mother, in menopause, with mono and has her loins on fire, you may just not want to fuck with me. She doesn't get it. Never has.....probably never will.

I curse my mother for saying: "I hope someday you have a daughter that acts just like you."
That is what I call child abuse. My mom should be behind bars.

I should be sleeping, yet I refuse to sleep my days away which in turn means I won't get better. Double edged sword thing. I should go put on my support bra poor thing doesn't stand a chance with my boobies and cuss at Jillian for 20 minutes however, I just don't feel like it yet. I said yet. There is still a chance.

I should go shower, but for what. I'm just going to put on my hot blue yoga pants, halter top and snugglie and go embarrass the hell out of my daughter for making my life difficult by visiting her at school. And so you can get the full visual, my mid section resembles a tube of dough that exploded.

Mama can be a bitch too.

And. I'm gonna disconnect the phone's and turn off the cell phone because even though most people know of my current diagnoses of mono, it doesn't hinder them from calling in favors. So. Poo to you people. This is my free pass to lounge and not do a damn thing for you. Have fun taking care of your own dilemmas.

I'm now going back to bed.....just to rest my eyes snore like a mother effer even though I don't want too. My eyelids are not cooperating and the toothpicks are breaking under the stress.

All of this....before 8am. This is what I wake up for???? Grrrrr.

To be somewhat positive, my pre-hormonal daughter got a great report card again. So. I might limit her grounding to 20yrs. She better be on best behavior tonight though.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The new me.

It sucks to be somewhat beautiful not even close. I have decided to take a new track on life and well.....it's killing me.

Exercise. Ugh. I decided to try the Biggest Loser bitch trainer that has made 500lb humans weigh 100lbs. It is 20 minutes of vigorous exercise. By vigorous I mean for 20 minutes you don't breath and sweat pollutes your eyes. But through research, this is the fastest way to lose the fat rolls. You go full bore for shorter amount of times. If I choose to be positive, I could say that it is just 20minutes of my day but my negative side is saying that my lungs exploded and my heart pounded out of my chest. And. I'm pretty sure my groins are on fire. And not the good kinda fire either. But I'm giving it a try. I'll do it again tomorrow, I hope, and see if I can lose the 20lbs in 30 days that it promises. I'm already dreading tomorrow. *sigh*

Alli weight loss system. Well. If you don't mind pooping slime out of your anus then this is the stuff for you. I talked with my Doctor and I talked to my pharmacist and it isn't harmful if used accordingly. It doesn't even make my other meds react differently and make me all whacked out. And I have already lost some weight because I shit it out of my bunghole. It isn't pretty, but it shows results. And yes....I do everything the easy way.

Better eating habits. Well. Let's just say I'm trying. Okay. Move on now.

Drinking water. I used to hate the taste of water. Like gag on a glass of water. Which isn't so rad when your kidneys are less then perfect and you sometimes pee syrup. Diet coke doesn't help with the syrup peeing either. However, our stellar new fridge with a water dispenser and filter makes me love water and I actually prefer it over a can of pop. Not a fountain diet coke, I can never find another love like that, but I still spoil myself once in awhile with it and I still drink more water then pop. And my kidneys are thanking me by peeing a nice pretty color of yellow instead of bright orange or dark mud. This is good.

The problem. I'm pretty sure I have mono. How do I know. Because everyday I have to take a nap. And I despise naps. I wake up like a crabby bore. It's ugly. I don't like wasting my days away. I would rather be proactive. But my energy nil and every little thing is exhausting. Oh. And because my nephew had mono just a few weeks ago and I was kissing my little munchkin, drinking from the same cup and snuggling my little bug. My glands are not swollen, I don't have a fever and I don't feel sick. Just physically drained. It could be fibromyalgia, it could be my thyroid, it could be the lack of caffeine. It could be I'm getting old. WebMd said it was an aneurysm.

Or maybe I'm just trying to get some sympathy from my husband and he'll buy me that beautiful ring I have had my eye on. Hmmmmmmmm............

I need you. I need you to tell me how much you hate exercise and how much you do it anyway. I need you to push me forward and keep me going. I need ideas. I need you to tell me how to forever change my ways. Not just a temp thing like I have done in the past. Help me. Love me. Help me.
Oh, and I got a new darker dye job with awesome highlights and a cut. I love it.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Can I have some guilt with a side of throw up?

Let me lay it out for you. I question my motherhood often. Not because I am the mom that abuses her child or neglects her or wishes her away.

I love, adore and inhale the scent of my beautiful daughter everyday. Her beauty and intelligence is outstanding. Her zest for life is intoxicating. Her sweetness brings me to tears. My heart bleeds fear just thinking about ever losing her. I am in tears just thinking about that right now. She is my favorite person in the world.

My daughter is exceptional. Her heart is big and full of love. Her smile is contagious. Her laughter is infectious. Everyone who meets her loves her. I'm not over bragging either. It is the God's honest truth. To know her is to love her.

She has her sides that make me wanna gauge out my eyeballs with a hot toothpick. But I don't feel like talking about them right now.

Except for her sensitivity. And this is where I feel like a shithole mother just one reason

I like that she is sensitive and not a cold hearted bitch. I like that she cares enough to have a delicate heart. But on the flip side. I want her to not care so much of what others think of her. She is hurt daily by friends and classmates. Over things that are really not a big deal. But to her, they are.

So. Sometimes I tell her that she needs to grow a tougher skin. To not care about those other fifth grade snots that tell her she looks like Willy Wonka when she cuts her beautiful hair chin length. To tell the winches to shut their pie holes. I try to encourage, yet there are times that I sorta look like I don't care about her problems. Because if I make a big deal out of it, she will too. I talk to her about it....I just don't dwell on it.

And then if that isn't concerning enough, there is last night. I went out. It was bunko night where me and a few girls play a fun game of dice and then get snookered. I had that and another b'day party to attend. Let's just say that after my third sex on the beach with cream, I was feeling numb.

And then my phone starts vibrating like a pimped out dildo. My daughter is with my sister, spending time with them so she could attend my nieces b'day party. My sister is harsher then us with her kids and sometimes this sends Sheylee into a crying rampage. She isn't mean, just has a different way of parenting. To each thy own, right? They were fighting. I was drunk. My sister was mad at Sheylee and Sheylee was hurt and I was in the toilet throwing up after 14 sex on the beaches with cream. try a sex on the beach with half and half in it....you will fall in love

*note-The glasses were small even for a ompaa-loompa.*

And so I am in the bathroom, puking out the contents from my stomach, which was so bad that I'm pretty sure the last Thanksgiving dinner came out of my nostrils. And I tell my kid to toughen up (my sister had a valid reason to be upset but she doesn't need to yell either.) and to go to bed. I call my parents, whom only live 5 minutes away, and make arrangements for them to go get my daughter in the morning. My daughter, whining like a stuck pig, is still on a rampage. I'm now throwing up last Easter dinner and it isn't looking any prettier.

I'm don't ever seem to get a break. Getting a cell phone for her was the worst thing to do. I'm feeling mighty fine (besides the turkey leg getting lodged in my throat from Christmas time), having a good time, or was at least, and wanted to continue to have fun. Fuck. I deserve it people.

So. I told my daughter: "Mom is drunk. Mom is having fun with her friends. Mom needs alone time too. Mom needs to enjoy a night without drama. Now go to bed or you are grounded until my first grandchild is produced. And since you are my only child and will be grounded, that means forever. Good night. I love you. Toughen up."

And I didn't get another text. And today, with my hangover polluting my thinking and my toilet being flushed every 2 minutes, I feel like a shit hole mom, yet again.

Mama was drunk. Mama put drinking before her spawn. Mama is a fuck face.

The End.

*note* My husband was equally drunk and texting back and forth to her too. As always, he had more patience. After my text. She didn't text him either. And she isn't texting me back today or answering her phone. I'm a bad.bad.mom.

Boo to me. I already know.

I gotta go throw up now.

Monday, March 16, 2009

New Friends.

Today is 67* outside with no wind. It is beautiful. It is gorgeous. It is my kind of weather.

Yet. I am restless. I am bored. I'm depressed for no good reason. I should be outside enjoying my weather. But I don't wanna. I could be cleaning my house with the windows open. But I don't wanna. I could go for a walk while jamming to my ipod. But I don't wanna. I could be shopping. But I feel guilty. I could be cleaning out the garage. But hell no. I'm blogging. But truthfully, I don't wanna.


I'm in a mood where nothing will make me happy. So. I turned to my friends. I sent out a text that read:


"Dear Friends. I am bored and restless. And because you are my friends you have no choice but to hear me whine. Trust me. I've heard you whine a thousand times before too so it is time to repay. Pity me."


I'm not dumb enough to think that there would be a pity party for me. I tried deeming today "Krissy-Pa-Looza" knowing full well it would be more like "Krissy-gets-Poopedon". But it was worth a shot. Here are just a few of my replies.


To: Krissy

From: Friend A


"I'm tired and don't wanna work so shut up. Go clean my house."


My response:

Fine. Just fine. Fine.Fine.Fine. I need new friends. (she totally knows I'm kidding.)


Her response:

haha. LMAO.


To: Krissy

From: Friend B


"Freak!"


(She has been my BFF since middle school. I'm used to her abuse.")


My response:

I'm deeming you a monkey's ass.


Her response back:

Good. Go get me some banana's.


My response back:

I'll get you banana's alright and shove them up your butt hole.


To: Krissy

From: Friend C


"Go get your eyebrows waxed because I have been noticing a uni-brow growing on your forehead.


My response:

I like having a Caterpillar on my forehead. It keeps my eye's warm.


To: Krissy

From: Friend D


"Life is a box of chocolates, so go eat some."


My response:

I'm on a freaking diet but thank you for making me hungry now.


To: Krissy

From: Friend E


"You are such a idiot."


My response:

You need a cat scan.


To: Krissy

From: Friend F


"Here's your pity. Piss off."


My response:

Wipe my ass! Nut lick-er.


(another long time friend and this is normal.)


To: Krissy

From: Friend G


"Krissy. Stop your depression or I will smack you upside your head. Do you understand me? Now go give your hubby a BJ"


My response:

You are such a crappy friend. And what fun is servicing him for me????? Duh


(Again. Normal.)


There were more words said. Finally I text them all and said.


"You all suck eggs. Boo.Too.You. I need new friends....ASSES. :-)"


And they all responded back with:


"We love you. You always make us laugh. You are hilarious. What would we do without you?"


So. Even though I needed the pick-me-up.....I made them all happier. You are probably thinking that I should feel good about making them have a better day and YOU.ARE.WRONG. I want to be the happy one today.


Well. Actually. I'll tell you that it was fun. So. It did make me happy. But I am not telling them that. And actually. I am so damn lucky to have these geeks in my life.


Here's my favorite pic of the week. It is my daughter. And I took the shot. She is my guinea pig. But a cute one.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Mental Awareness Time.

Let's face it. I'm mental. I am aware that I am high strung. I am a worry tumorwart and I am very aware that I am borderline OCD and ADHD. This is the short list.

Nonetheless....it is all well maintained. I am learning to cope with my anxiety and stress. It is worse then counting calories or in my case, popping an Alli pill every meal and pooping out lard. But mental wellness is something that can be obtained by a hard work and the want to live life without stress controlling your every thought.

Not only is stress exhausting and restraining; it is harmful to your health as well. Did you know that stress can cause:

stomach disorders
intestinal disorders
nerve disorders
heart issues
skin issues
liver disorders
and so on and so on...........

Did you know that stress can decrease your life span drastically? Did you know that stress is the number one cause of death???? This is not a fib. This is the facts. Stress can kill you and is more of a threat then heart attacks. You.Need.To.Listen.

First. You must identify the cause of stress. The list can be long. It can include money (the number one reason for most humans anxiety and depression), jobs, kids, family, marriage, friends, etc. You are more then likely worried about more then one thing. But. Like a block of ice, chip off the biggest reason first and once you have resolved it, tackle the next one on your list.

Sometimes it is easier for people to start at the smallest reason and move to the biggest worry. It feels empowering when you somehow manage to control your LIFE. This is important. This is detrimental to you living a better life.

For instance, let's use me as a Guinea Pig. Or just a pig if you wish. I can handle the truth.

I worried a lot about money. Money to me is evil. It causes so much trauma and drama and is just plan evil. It reeks evilness. It is evil-riffic.

So. I realized that my biggest worry is by all means, finances. I stress about retirement, about college, about the economy, about the prices of groceries. The prices of gas. The whole kit and caboodle. It was so overwhelming to me. You can never have enough. EVER. And for me, it was out of control. I needed to find peace with it.

Second. Think about the worst thing that could ever happen. Okay. This could be a multitude of things however, I thought about the single most worst thing to happen. That would be to lose my house. My comfort zone. There is nothing worse then that. Even though we aren't even close to losing our home and it isn't really an option, I started here. Because, the unknown bothers the shit out of me. The "what ifs" of life. What if the economy got so bad we lost our home? It isn't that big of a stretch when you watch the world news and you see the depression (don't get me started....this is not a recession! Our country is witnessing a full blown depression and we might as well get used to the word.) So after giving myself an ulcer at the pure thought of this, I had to move on to step three. I will forewarn you......this step was the hardest for me because my brain raced about the worst case scenarios. I was gulped up by anxiety. And I had to simply breath and meditate for a few minutes to focus on the task on hand. It did help.

Step Three. Face it. Man....I said that step two was the hardest for me but that was because my stress was eating me alive. In this step, I had to stop being a pansy. It was time to own up to my problems and handle them. In this step....I had to focus on the positive. My fears and anxieties were "what ifs" and so I had to prepare myself. So. I thought of the things that I would have to deal with. For instance. If we lost our house, I would have to find a new place that would allow pets. Scary. I could not give up my furbabies. Not.An.Option. So. I secretly looked in the paper and saw that there are houses to rent and apartments to rent that allow dogs. Even gigantic dogs like mine. Then I focused on my daughter. The stress this would cause for her. And as much as it would hurt and as hard as it would be, she would survive if we survived. And I would be willing to do whatever I could to help her cope. I am capable of that. And then I moved on to ownership and my feeling of defeat if this happened. And as much as my ego would be bruised, I would still be alive and kicking and my life wouldn't be over because my ego was bruised. Ecetera, Ecetera, Ecetera.

And then. The most amazing thing happened. I stopped worrying about the "What if" because it isn't as bad as it sounds. For me. I could cope. And then I started realizing that we are lucky because it is far fetched. And as much as the economy is failing, we have a low house payment and it is not killing us financially. And we can 100% afford this house on half of the income we have. And we don't have any home improvement loans on our house. We don't have second mortgages. We are in a great position to never lose this house. And then I remembered that this house is a savings account in a sense. We have some good equity. And if worse comes to worse....we always have that.

What happened. When I was consumed with fear of the "what ifs" and the anxiety it caused, I wasn't seeing clearly. I was too worried to see clearly. And once I realized that I would survive the worst case scenario, I cleared my vision. And I started thinking rationally. And all of a sudden, my biggest fear became a laughable thought.

I am going to post more about mental health awareness. Not because I am a expert but more because I am a victim. And I am learning slowly to become a survivor. And I want to share my thoughts and experiences with you. To help you. To fight with you. This isn't a witty post. There is no humor. It can be quite boring. But it may just help you. This is only the beginning stages but trust me....to go to bed one night with one less thing to worry about is uplifting. And always remember, that every problem can be resolved.

To be continued.........................

Thursday, March 5, 2009

It really is all about poop.

NOTE: If you have a weak stomach and gag at the mention of poop.....keep reading. I don't want to be the only one gagging.

Let me set this straight. I hate the word poop. I hate the word fart. I know I use it in my vocabulary often but I am usually typing it. Not saying it. I spit when I say poop. It's the way my mouth forms that makes me shower whoever or whatever is in front of me.

And. I hate poop and farts. I gag. I actually threw up a little once while changing my own daughters diaper. It makes me hurl chunks. And I hate puke too. So. I'm fucked. But I do get a sicky feeling when I see poop or smell farts. It is disgusting.

But I cannot stay away from it. It follows me. It is everywhere I go.

***********************************************
My dog ate a whole roll of toilet paper. She ate the whole entire thing. I didn't really know which dog it was, so I scolded both of them. Until today.

My old dog Vamp, had a hanger. It was a long string of paper hanging out of her butt hole. It was so gross. Naturally, I made her stay outside until she could lose the hanger. After awhile, I realized it wasn't coming out on it's own.

This is where you could puke.

I had to pull it out of her ass. The dog should have just shit a tree. Seriously. I kept pulling and pulling and....well....you get the picture.

She felt elated that she didn't have a wad of T.P. stuck up her intestines anymore and I was heaving and gagging and cussing and yelling.

My dog is going green because she recycles paper. Awesome.

******************************************

I am taking Alli for weight loss. I had no choice. My pants were cutting off circulation to my legs and turning them purple. And I cannot even get my large ass off of the couch to sign up for the gym.....let alone go work out.

And when it says that you poop some weird, nasty slimy stuff out of your hole, it wasn't lying. In a few words, you shit the fat you it out. And it looks like grease. It is horrible.

And the gas is even worse. It smells like rotting fish. Can I get a "Ewwwww."

However, it works. You look into the bowl after a movement and realize that the lard you just squirted out is what you force into your face hole. Not very appetizing. So. I have second thoughts when I order the chicken sandwich with extra mayo off of the Burger King menu.

I said I thought about turning it down. I don't have that much will power. Geesh.

************************************
My husband likes to fart. My daughter likes to fart. My friends like to fart. My dad likes to fart. My sister and mother like to fart. My niece and nephew like to fart. Need I say more?????

************************************

My life stinks.....literally.