It's a Fiesta

Oh dear. I had Chipotle for dinner, which I have washed down with a bunch of margaritas. So, ummm, I'm a lil' relaxed... yes, relaxed.

Tonight I went to Target. It occurred to me as I wandered around the Target that this is one of those times I miss my husband. I know. It's crazy to think that I, Ms. Unhappily Married for the last 10 years am finding things that I miss about being married. I miss laughing, laying bed and giggling like kids over stupid stuff like farts. I miss having someone to talk to in that secret language of relationships. You know, like those words and phrases you only use with each other that make no sense to anyone else. It wasn't all bad, I guess. But what I really miss and what I would trade just about anything is to have back is someone to wander around Target with me.

For example tonight I needed the following:
Toilet Paper
Hair Dye
Frizz Eaze Spray
Soap (Bars)
Butt Wipes
Paper Towels

That's it. So list in hand I ventured over to the Target.

What I bought (after 2 hours of wandering aimlessly around):
Hair Dye
Toilet Paper
Butt Wipes
Frizz Ease Spray
Frizz Ease Gel Spray
Soap Bars
Hand Soap in a 3 pack
4 things of Deodorant
Bleach Spray (in all fairness my tub is gross)
2 plastic Monkey plates
4 pairs of underpants
2 bras
3 tee shirts
Sunblock (10 because I'm Irish and think Red = Tan)
Shaving Cream
Make up
Cold Medicine (no I'm not sick again)
Really soft wash cloths
toothpaste
3 oz cups


Yeah, so $142 later I realize that I need adult supervision in the Target. In the past, Mr. Pants and I would be shopping and I would proclaim "I need that!" (imagine me pointing happily at Monkey plates). Mr. Pants would say "No, you don't". I would spend the next couple of aisles babbling on and on about how I needed said monkey plates - "I could use them for dessert plates or for Bean to have wet food on" and he would shoot each idea down patiently and calmly. Then he would distract me with the candy area where I would happily peruse while he finished shopping. Without that other person? I buy a bunch of crap and spend 30 minutes in the candy section buying nothing.

Then I come home and drink myself silly on a Wednesday night.

Yeah, living on my own is going to end up a giant FAIL.

2nd Food Coma of the Day.

My weekend has been spectacular. I know! I can't believe it either. I went out with the kids from work on Friday night for Drew's Birthday. We drank and talked and laughed. I had an amazing grilled cheese on Saturday morning. I hung out with my family yesterday and today had breakfast and watched a movie with Monkey, then Violet and I went to the melting pot. Tomorrow it's the Art Museum & BBQ. Can life get any better?

Plus I found Strawberried Peanut Butter M&Ms. Yes. I found them. Yes. They are disgusting. The strawberry flavor is entirely too fake. They're no where near as good as the mint crisp ones from Indiana Jones last year. I guess Transformers got the awful flavor tie in. Of course, that Indiana Jones was horrendous.

My depression has waned - as was expected - a bunch of beers, some shots, an angry bloody mary and perhaps more beers definitely reset my mood. It is much improved. I am going to challenge myself to stay positive at work til at least Wednesday. Think I can?

You, my friend, are a doubting internet user.

Yet I continue to function

My cat has glitter on her nose. This is making me want to gather all the weird things I have in my house into a pile. I'm 35. Do I really need stripper shoes with cherries on them? Or glitter nail polish, eyeshadow and lip gloss? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Everyone at work has been very down, even the cellar dweller said to me today that if he could find another job he would leave. He's a dude I never expected to ever express a desire to leave there. I'm sending out resumes, but I am not getting many responses. It makes me frustrated. I always kind of felt like the time I spent at Staples carried my weak ass resume. Now I have this other job that doesn't do much for me in fulling out the resume or carry the superb name recognition Staples did. Plus my resume sucks donkey dick. I do a lot at my current job, but I simply can not express exactly what I do there. I never wanted to resort to having to look to retail management as a career, I have successfully avoided it throughout my life and now I'm thinking that I should be applying for retail management jobs. Part of it is my desperation to get out of my current job. I don't know what to do. I'll figure it out, but it is causing a lot of angst in my life right now.

So tonight I am supposed to go to my friend's house and watch The Wrestler (yes, yes, I realize I've made this threat before), but I am already in my nighty and would rather cuddle up here on the couch and watch tv. I am so unmotivated as of late. I came home today and fell asleep for 2 hours. Took a shower and fell back to sleep for a bit. I could seriously go immediately back to sleep now and wake up tomorrow.

Okay I need to get to Sephora before they close (so not going to happen).

Come on over and toss back a few.

My depression, she lingers on. Although today had two incredible high points. I snuck out to lunch in a restaurant today with Monkey. The break was most welcome, even if we did spend the entire time talking about work. Then Freddy plopped himself in my office for over 30 minutes and discussed his sex life in explicit detail. I know more about that dude's sex life than I know about my own. I work at a job where people feel very comfortable telling me stuff. And in some cases it has been awesome - there are 2 people that I feel like I will be friends with long after my work there is done - but some folks just talk because they like to talk. Freddy likes to talk. I know how he eats his wife's pussy, I know how many times his girlfriend cums, I know how many times he can get it up in a night. Seriously. The only person I am comfortable having those types of conversations with is the man in my life, not the fat chick in the front office. But whatever, because it totally cheered me up.

Last night I cried and cried and cried. To the point where my eyes were a swollen mess. Then I opened Pet Semetary and covered myself in the simply written words of Stephen King. Trust me, I am no literary snob, but I am mildly embarrassed at times of my love of Stephen King. When I'm sad or upset, I turn to The Stand, Pet Semetary, Cujo or another King book. Frannie and Stu, Donna and Vic, Louis and Rachel, they're like old friends to me. Yeah, I know their tale (almost by heart) but it makes me feel comforted. Today wasn't much better, but I have a big night planned of eating and watching movies. So hopefully tomorrow will be better.

My vagina still hates me - but now I get to stick yogurt in it. I'm like some granola eating hippie chick going for the natural cure.

I am looking forward to the long weekend. Violet and I have some plans, Mr. Pants and I have some plans, Bear and I have some plans, and I am going to get drunkity drunk drunk at least 1 night. Sometimes the boozing helps reset my depression back to normal level. Of course sometimes it doesn't work and I sink even lower. I guess we'll see.

Warning - full of lady business

My vagina hates me. It is in some kind of revolt against me. For years we've lived in harmony, my vag and I, but lately it's like one of us has to go. Since January I've had 4 fucking UTIs which is fine. I mean, not fine, but I have always had an issue with UTIs, so I'm not really surprised. My doctor has started charging me for the urinalysis because it's become a monthly thing and evidently Blue Cross and Blue Shield only covers 2 or some crazy shit. There has been talk of 60 days on antibiotics, or a low dose taken whenever I have sex. Both seem like too much. I'm afraid I am going to get sick and have some tolerance to antibiotics so I'll die of gangrene or something. I've been taking cranberry supplements - 6 a day. It's not helping. So back on the antibiotics on Friday. Which have given me a yeast infection. WTF?? Why do my lady parts hate me?

Other than my angry lady parts, things have been okay. I'm mildly depressed. Nothing really bad, but I kind of want to be alone.

Today = Awesome.

I do realize that saying the day is awesome at 10:30 AM is a bit of a strong statement, but I have a good feeling about today.

I woke up early this morning. I seem to have lost my ability to sleep in. I don't miss it as much as I thought I would. I read for awhile, then got up and brewed a pot of coffee. I had a muffin, a 1/2 of grapefruit, and some coffee as I perused my favorite Sunday morning sites.

Thrill as I recount what I ate for dinner last night.

On Friday night the High School Girls and I thought we'd do dinner and a movie. So, Jess & Liz & Violet and I made plans to meet at Houlihan's at 6. Then I decided I wanted to go to Happy Hour. A flurry of texts were sent that made me question if I really did stop my burgeoning alcohol problem in my friends' minds.

Lizzie: "If you go to HH you won't show up at all."
Violet: "No. Not a good idea. You'll have to drive."
Jess: "Bullshit! It'll be 9:30 and we all be at the fucking bar in some shitty chain restaurant waiting and then you'll send a text that says 'sorry bitches! too drunk! Jameson's = YUM'".

So I bailed on Happy Hour. Which was fine, because I really spend too much time with those kids from work and Jameson's does in fact equal YUM and then I would have been all drunk texting and totally wouldn't have made it out.

Instead I rushed home for to see if my UPS package had arrived (it had). Maybe it is living alone, but man, do I get thrilled when I get mail. My friend from work (who needs a nick name for here. It has been frustrating me. I suck at the whole nicknamey thing to begin with and typically use whatever name it is that they use as their blog / myspace / messageboard handle. So for right now I'll go with Monkey. Which I have been trying to make work in real life too. It doesn't. I am fully aware of that. Anyway). Monkey came over for a minute to talk about the end of the shitty week. Which made me totally late for the girls. And when I got there? The fucking restaurant was closed! It closed on 5/12. Somehow I took the collective blame for not knowing this. I tried desperately to convince the ladies that Korean BBQ was the way to go. They disagreed and we drove fucking 30 minutes out of our way to eat at a different Houlihan's. Then we squeezed back to my place to watch 27 Dresses with the plan that is was going to be mockable. It wasn't. It was atrocious. Not "funny bad" or "I can't believe this is this awful" but "Really? Was this script only written with a cliche generator?" so after much discussion of when the hell Ed Burns got so fat we turned it off and watched SNL with Justin Timberlake as the host.

Which made us feel like 4 old ladies who spouted off such stupid lines as "you know, this kid is crazy talented" and "He can sing, he can dance, he has comedic timing, and isn't afraid to mock himself- he's gonna go far!" and "I wouldn't kick him out of bed." If this were 1999 or whenever he brought Sexy Back, I could see this conversation happening, but I really felt like we were a bunch of old ladies babbling away- completely out of touch.

Yesterday I did a lot of errandy things and spent a ton of money I don't have. I must get better at curbing my spending. I must! Then I vegged out on the couch for awhile and caught up on the DVR.

Rescue Me is amazing this season.
30 Rock Finale was hysterical - Cyndi Lauper is one of the drunk ones!
The Office - Motherfuckme - I love Jim and Pam still. I don't care what anyone says.
Big Bang Theory - really? I love that show, but that was one of the weakest eps of the season.

I can't wait for tomorrow's How I Met Your Mother finale. I hear it is going to be awesome.

Monkey came over with plans to watch The Wrestler, but I've only had the netflix for two weeks, and I really prefer to keep them as long as possible. I have been carrying that movie around for the last week hoping to catch some time to watch it. We just keep looking at the run time and deciding to try it later. So hopefully this week. We've been pulling through the big Oscar films and some crazy little independents lately. I love having a friend so willing to watch the crazy stuff I like. I have like a million documentaries coming up on my queue so we'll see if he really likes watching what I do when he's stuck watching "Jesus Camp" or "Spellbound".

Okay, I am going to make some crazy good Bakerella treats today. Oreo Truffels and Cupcake pops. So I must get dress, go to the craft store and then plop down and bake the day away.

I'm Lost with Lost

Seriously? This show is just fucking with me now, right?
I almost regret the last 5 years - I can barely muster enough interest in these characters anymore - I just want resolution.

I am still fighting the remnants of this motherfucking cold. I almost feel like the cough will never go away. It probably would if I stopped smoking - but that's not going to happen. Not with how stressed I am.

I can't even muster 10 minutes tonight. I'm going to bed. Sorry internet - maybe tomorrow there will be rambling, incoherent, writings from me. Tonight? There is sleep only.

Easy like Sunday Morning - or a Slutty Drunk Girl.

Check me out - 9 AM on a Sunday and I'm up and typing away! Yay me!

I spent a whole bunch of time yesterday with my folks. It was really nice. My dad is awesome. He is the one person in my life who has constantly been supportive of me. So much of who I am, the person that I grew up to be came from that man. I know it's mother's day and I should probably be thinking about my mom and how sad her current state is, but in all honestly, she did a pretty crappy job of raising me. She consistently made me feel bad about who I was, what I was doing and was the primary reason that I had to get away and ran straight from home into the crappiest relationship ever. I left one physically and emotionally abusive person for another. But that doesn't matter, because I am totally better now - see - all fixed!

Wow. This is some heavy shit for 9:05 AM.

Last night I watched Wendy & Lucy. I wish I could describe how the movie made me feel with some type of accuracy. It was beautifully shot and Michelle Williams was lovely as always - but the sadness in this movie was amazingly large. And not the sobbing type of sadness of Steel Magnolias, but the bone cutting sadness that stays with you for days afterward. Tonight I may watch The Wrestler and then only happy movies on the Netflix queue for a while.

Okay. It's sunny and early and I found a coffee shop that has S'more flavored Lattes. And I'm making cupcakes today. And chex mix.

I am the Slayer

I have a list that is LONG of things I need to accomplish today. I actually said this morning I was going to "Slay that motherfucking list". Yeah. How's that going? Well I'm on the couch in the clothes I wore last night, typing on my laptop - so slaying? Not my calling.

Of course I only have 9 more minutes to sit here.

Yesterday, work sucked a bag of dicks. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and found myself grumpy as hell. The guy I share an office with told me he was going to stab me in the neck with a key - so my jolly mood was appreciated by all. It was one of those days that all the hidden crap, the stuff that people don't want you to see, totally floated to the top. I spent a lot of my day being really pissed about shit that I had no control over. But then 5 o'clock rolled around and the day got a whole lot better.

I went to happy hour with some coworkers but split early after no shots, 2 beers and a whole lot of laughs- then went over my friend's house to watch Doubt. I had seen it before, but watching it again gave me a better appreciation for it.

Violet and I are not getting along particularly well right now. It is frustrating the fuck out of me and I'm not really sure how to fix it. She is most displeased with the way I am living my life, and without getting into the details, she has no business being pissed. I am really good. And things are really good. This girl has been my friend through the drugs, the abusive boyfriends -all of the lifetime movie plots that my life has encompassed, yet this - my separation from my husband- is the 1 thing she decides she needs to get all judgmental about. It sucks. We've been friends for 20 years and I feel like we aren't going to be friends much longer. I'm going to have to talk to her about it and see if we can't find some middle ground and resolve this. Before it's too late.

Okay, I'm off to slay and make my facebook status a reality.

Thunder Road? Without the Lightning, Please.

Last night I slept the worst I've slept in a really long time. It was almost painful. I fell asleep easily enough, almost immediately, in fact, but then woke up with that scary "where the fuck am I" feeling. After my panic subsided, I realized I forgot to take my cold medicine and it seemed like too much of a hassle to disconnect myself from the bed, find some water and a glass (damn alka seltzer tablets) take the medicine and get back in bed. Plus I didn't know what time it was, so if it was longer than 6 hours before I had to wake up, I would totally be fucked and stuck in that medicine haze all day. So I laid there reciting lines from Pulp Fiction for awhile. Just as I started to fall back to sleep, it started to pour. The rain was really coming down and the thunder was rumbling in the distance. It seemed cozy at first. I was all snug in bed, a little neurotic, but no worse than usual, no panic attack looming or anything - Until the lightning started.

I probably should have prefaced this tale with the fact that I wasn't at my house. I spent the night at my friend's new home (which is lovely by the way). It was raining pretty hard all night, so I decided to just spend the night there, rather than make the long trip home (on highways!).

So, there I was, laying in a strange bed watching the lightning throw all these crazy shadows on the wall. The thunder was now booming and the lightning was flashing a whole bunch. I huddled myself into a tiny ball and turned away from the windows, repeating somewhat quietly "I am not a giant chicken". I resisted the urge that I normally have to lay on the floor away from the windows with a blanket over my head. Of course I totally couldn't fall back to sleep after because my heart was racing and I was all crazy headed. Hence the lack of sleep. Although I did crash fairly hard after work today. So, all better!

So that's my ten minute tale - I'm afraid of thunder and potentially the worst overnight guest you can have. At least I didn't hide in the tub this time. Alright I'm off to watch The Office and put my new monkey sheets on my bed.

Life's dollar Menu

So I have been inspired to write here daily. 10 minutes a day. That's it. Whatever I can pour out here in 10 minutes gets posted. I want to write more, and a friend told me that's the best way to do it. So be prepared for some awful crap.

I have successfully kicked the Swine Flu without a hoof or curly tail appearing. I slept 24 hours between Monday and Tuesday. It was not as lovely as it would seem. Unfortunately my illness sent me spiraling into a huge depression. There is something about lying on the bathroom floor, under a blanket and every so often lifting your head to vomit copious amounts of soup into the toilet in your tiny rental condo that makes you realize "I could die here and no one would no until tomorrow or the next day". I'd like to think my friend who has a key would totally miss me if he didn't hear from me by Noon or so, but I don't know. I'm a lonely girl. My guess is that someone would notice the pile of paperwork on my desk by Friday and sent someone over to check on me. So that's how my death will be discovered. One of the idiots I work with will wonder why their jobs haven't been closed and perhaps one of them will take a ride over to see if I'm alive.

My cold also made me terribly homesick. I missed my bed. My pillows. My cats. Having a person who would make me a milkshake. And soup. And who would offer me the elixir if I was pukey. So I cried my eyes out for a good portion of last night and probably made someone a little uncomfortable. Sorry about that. And thanks for listening and not being all judgy.

And no, I only took 1 fish mox before I realized I was trying to treat myself with FISH AMOXICILLAN. WHAT THE FUCK? HOW FAR WILL I GO FOR A JOKE?

The answer is unfortunately pretty fucking far.

10 minutes NOW. I'm off to get my monkey sheets out of the dryer and finish my friendship bread.

Friendship bread is the new chain letter.