At Times Like This, You Need Chocolate. Or Pizza.

Ever have those weeks where you want to bury your head in the sand? Literally? Just to see what would happen? Knowing me I'd probably surface with some rare form of mold that eats all your hair. Anyway - I've just had one of those weeks.

Since I'm addicted to lists and firmly believe list posts are easier to read, let me list you my crappy week.

1. I'm addicted to food. I know it, you know it, the world knows it. My taste buds just refuse to listen. I wish I could just numb my tongue for a month and be done with it. remember when people used to wire their jaws shut and drink liquid for x amount of time? Yeah, I'd do that. then I'd probably break all my teeth trying to get to the Halloween candy. Such is life.

I really would do this to lose a few pounds...

2. Saturday morning at 1 am my neighbors were having a drunken idiot fest party across the street. I went to go get Wendy's (refer to item number one for why in god's name I left my house at 1 am for FOOD.) The rejects across the street saw me leave, saw me come back. Someone else (read: not me.) called the police on their loudness. Twice. Then at 3am, one of the drunk diptards walks up to my house, opens my screen door, and tries to open my door. Twice. Without knocking or anything. I thought someone was ready to add a new ventilation system to my forehead by way of the gun - so I creep to the side of the door and watch the jackwad go back to party central. I had never been so scared in my entire life. I run upstairs, wake up my ex-marine husband (just saying that makes me feel better...) and call the cops. Not 5 minutes later they come screeching up my street and start hollering at all the party animals. Hollering. Loudly. Hooray for police brutality. I'm all for it at this point - I wanted one of them to beat someone up. I was pissed. Anyway, party breaks up, I can't do anything about the pseudo break in because I didn't know which moron to point the finger at. Shame. The police and the retards left and I was up till 5 am trying to not have a heart attack from fear.

I felt like this was going to happen and I was going to die. Or be beat to a pulp.

3. Sunday morning, at 6 am , I am taking my brother to the hospital. He has kidney stones. Lots of 'em. I woke up, after about a half hour of sleep (because my husband snores. loudly. In stereo.) and crawl in the passenger's side of my car because frost has frosted my door super shut. After about 20 minutes of thawing we're on our way, and I'm thinking - "I hope I don't do anything stupid, because I'm really tired. My normal superhero-esque reactions are not up to par this evening night morning."  Five minutes later I run over a dead deer in the middle of the highway going 70 mph because I'm trying to get my poor brother to the hospital asap. A big dead deer. In my little 96 Honda Civic. I get to the ER, my engine is smoking, and I have a panic attack while trying to check my brother in and be there for him. My family is all sleeping, I have no one to call and I look like a moron in streaky left over mascara from the night before. To add to the fun and games, I hurt my shoulder and back muscles. Which I had to deal with for 6 hours while the moron doctors decided my brother had kidney stones. Um - to quote a favorite cartoon, "you just earned your - Uh, Der - badge."

ALL OF YOU.

So life is.....

I don't know. My car is in the shop, I'm broke, and I'm afraid of my neighbors. I'm not really complaining, mind you , I'm just in shock. Fortunately I have Xanax and Codene to cope for the week. And I ordered a pizza. Veggie Lovers from Pizza Hut.

Don't judge me.

A Brutally Honest Portrait

I have been up all night. I woke up at 10 pm yesterday - just in time to say goodnight to my son.

I sat down to my computer and started playing my video game. My husband was watching some good old Star Trek:Voyager on Netflix. After a few hours of that, he went to bed. So I caught up on some season 7 of Grey's Anatomy while I continue playing my game.

At about 3am, I realize I am hungry. So I fry up an entire can of corn beef hash, and eat the whole thing. With ketchup. Yummy, but I'm sure I just ate 30 gazillion grams of fat, and I'm not going to bother thinking about the sodium. After this "breakfast" I dish myself up a bowl of Cookies N' Cream ice cream.

As I'm eating, I realize that all I've done for the last week is sit here at the computer. I haven't showered in about 5 days, and my head itches. I smell. I brushed my hair yesterday for the first time in about 2 weeks, and only because it was getting so ratty I couldn't get a rubber band around it. I actually brushed my teeth - yesterday morning. At this point they're fuzzy and yellow. I haven't shaved in a month or so. I can't find a bra because I haven't worn one in 10 days.  The couch has an indent where my butt goes, and I think I've actually broken a board or two in there because my fat tush sets lower than the rest of the couch.

This could be my hair. And I'm not even trying.

And I realize there is something seriously wrong with me.

I didn't think I was depressed. Maybe I am. I don't know anymore.

All I know is that I need to care. About me. Because I really, really don't give a damn about myself at the moment. There's no way I can trick myself into thinking I do care about myself, because when I look in the mirror and see greasy hair and yellow teeth - it's obvious.

When did I stop caring? When did I stop feeling like a woman? What the hell happened to my life?

My title warns you that this is a brutally honest picture of what I have become. It's time to really change that. It's noon now, and I'm going to take a shower, shave, brush my teeth (and my hair!) and get off the couch for a while.

The World On Your Shoulders

I am so very frustrated.

I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to be positive, and upbeat.

It's not working very well.

You know that scene in a movie - where someone is standing on the edge of something very tall? Like a building, or a bridge, or a cliff. Then they close their eyes, spread their arms wide, and just sort of.....fall backward, into nothingness. All peaceful like, with a sad, strange smile on their face.

No? Well, I'm sure it's in some movie somewhere, and if it's not - it ought to be.

I feel like that person. Like I'm on the edge of nothing. I am nothing. I feel nothing. I accomplish nothing. And nothing is waiting for me at the bottom of the black hole.

I could try and list everything, but it may depress you. It involves money, lack of willpower, money, lack of motivation and...money. Yeah. I think we've all been there.

I need a plan. I'm just...lost. There's hundreds of little things swirling around in my brain but I just can't get a grip on any of them. Elusive little things - ideas. Where do I start? What do I do? Eat healthy - with a $200 a month grocery budget? Join a gym? When I can't even pay my rent? I feel weighted down with worries and cares, and I would like it to stop now.

Please, make it stop.


PS - I kid you not. As I finished typing this - my mom called. My sister is in the ER and I have to watch her 3 (small) children at 6am. And I watch my 1 year old niece today. And I have to homeschool my son, deal with my landlord, catch up on all the laundry that was in my flooded basement - and God knows what else. The hits just keep on comin'.

Petco Lets Animals Die In Flood

I live in NY, near Binghamton. If you haven't heard by now - our area was flooded this past week. We had a lot of rain from tropical storm Lee - which caused historical flooding throughout Broome County.

There is a Petco in Johnson City, NY. It's in a plaza that houses a few stores - Toys R' Us, Party City, Christmas Tree Shops - to name a few. This plaza has been flooded a few times, most memorably in the Flood of 2006. Keep that in mind as you read what I have to say.

We had had heavy rains that started the night of the 6th. By noon on the 7th of September, the schools were being dismissed and many areas of Broome County were bring evacuated. Highways were being shut down, some were losing power, and almost every store in the area was closing. Including Petco.

The one difference here is that Petco shut their doors - and left the animals inside to drown. We have several pet stores around here, but Petco obviously takes the cake. Pet Depot was flooded too - and were out rescuing the animals, kayaking them out of the store if necessary.

Pet Depot rescue, Vestal NY

Petco's response includes so much spin - it's making me dizzy.

They claim that:
"The flooding was not from the Susquehanna River itself but from a back up in the town’s sewage/drainage system."

Petco is between the blue sign and the red brick

Does it look like that to you? We had record flooding in areas that had never seen water. The places that usually flood saw much more water than normal. Anyone with half a brain could have figured out that Petco would flood. Businesses are required to have insurance, right? Then the insurance people would have surely told the company that the area was prone to flooding. And to place the burden of responsibility on the Johnson City? Shameful.

In the second paragraph of the blog entry, Petco says:
 "We want to stress that this was not carelessness on our associates’ behalf, but a communications lapse from the city to the store in evacuations orders."

Yet in the next paragraph they say:
 "We have a hotline for associates to use if they ever feel an animal is in danger and no calls were made to the hotline suggesting that the associates feared flooding would impact the store and endanger the animals."

So...were the employees careless, or weren't they? Is it their fault they didn't call, or Petco's fault for not making the decision themselves? Surely someone from Petco was aware of the flooding.

The thing that makes me the most angry is this gem:
 "An associate went by to check the store at 11:45 p.m. on Wednesday night and there were no signs of flooding or a flood warning in effect."

Are you kidding me? We had flood warnings in effect from the night before. The night before, people. By 11pm Wednesday night, the place had to have been flooded - so how could an employee check on it? And there were most certainly flood warnings in effect by 11pm.

I myself live in an area that never floods, yet I had 6 inches of water in my basement. So a flood-prone area.....you do the math.

Road at the bottom of my street

Shame on Petco for being so careless and irresponsible. Shame on them for not just issuing a simple apology. A nice heartfelt "I'm sorry" would have worked wonders. So now there is a Boycott Petco page on facebook. I believe there's a demonstration/protest coming up, and I'll be there. The local news is all over this, and I'm hoping national news will pick it up.

Articles can be found at WBNG, and Press and Sun Bulletin.

Hey, Petco...did you get the cash out?

Smoke And Mirrors

In case you haven't noticed, I hath completed my bloggy makeover. You like?

Anyhoo - I was browsing my Yahoo news stories and came across a most excellent article. It's about a lady who has sworn off mirrors for a year. Yes, you heard me right. No mirrors for one year.

Let me link her and her blog real quick like. The blog is called Mirror, Mirror....OFF The Wall, and her name is Kjerstin Gruys. Here is the Yahoo article I read.

Now before you double you tee eff me about all this, hear me out.

I love to go out with my friends. I love to go on dates with my husband. I spend lots of time getting ready - makeup, hair, the works. I have just lost about 15 pounds total now, so I have found a whole new wardrobe lurking in the recesses of my basement. I have fun going out now - it's not torture anymore. So to sum up - I have fun going out. I get ready, and I am totally in love with myself. I dance, joke, smile - I live. I live.

Then I look in a mirror. And somehow, always - always! - the image I saw in my head does not match up with what I see.

How I feel vs. what I see

And it's all because I spent too much time reading beauty magazines as a child. Well, not only because - but you get it. The world does not think I am as beautiful as I think I am.


And to that I say - screw you world. I am beautiful. I am gorgeous. My husband adores me, my family loves me - and I need to learn how to do the same. Not because I want to stay overweight and unhealthy - but because I am tired of people I don't know telling me what to think about myself. I'm over it.

airbrushed - nobody looks like that!

So, I am seriously considering not using mirrors for a while. I need to reset how my brain works about myself. I am very curious to see what it does for me.I have a feeling I will learn to love myself - like I always should have.

Electric Bills and Exercise

I'm so tired I need to prop up my eyelids with toothpicks. Or Q tips, but I don't think my eyelids will stretch that far. I would ingest some caffeine, but that doesn't really work for me. What I will probably do is go play video games all night until it's a proper time to go to sleep.

 Like, midnight. Or 2am. If I make it that far.

I had to pay my electric bill this morning, so I wouldn't get shut off. Technically I had to pay it Friday, so I called the robbers company, and found out that they don't do shutoffs Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Or holidays. Or the day before or the day after a holiday. You think with all I pay them they could afford to send people out everyday. Anyway - I thought, 'hey, let's pay them online this weekend!'.

Dumb Idea. I was going to use my brothers card - because it was his money we were using (we still have none) and too late, I realized you have to attach the whole bank account to the electric account. Not happening. Then I thought we'd pay over the phone. Not open. Jeez.

So I stayed up all night and drove over there and paid it this morning at the crack of dawn. Eight o'clock in the morning to be precise. Life is just dandy.

So, I'm tired and I really should go to the gym. But there's no way - I would fall off of the elliptical so fast you'd need a high speed camera to catch it. I have been doing horrible on my 'diet'. I had 2 peices of frosting covered brownies yesterday. And that's just yesterday. The last few weeks have been a joke. Chips, cheese, meat, food and more food and junk and sugar. Yeah. That kind of eating. So, the plan is to head back to the gym this week - but I gotta do it before my husband goes to work at 3 pm.

We'll see. Wish me luck!

My Fun Summer. Kinda.

I am here. I am still breathing. And yes, I am still blogging.

I spent about 2 weeks in bed - quite literally - with bronchitis. Not fun. Vicks, vaporizers, cough drops...I think my tongue is permanently red from cough drops. If I never see another cherry anything, I will be a Happy Flabby. Ugh.

So now, although I am still coughing, it's time to get back up on the horse. 2 weeks with no gym can make you ...well - flabby. I dread the thought of getting back up on that elliptical, and the treadmill. Funnily enough though, I can feel my body slowly reverting back to what it was before I started exercising. I get more headaches, and I'm lazier and I don't sleep right. I've been going to bed at 5am and waking up at 12 or 2pm. I feel sucky. Really sucky. Plus I've been eating whatever I want, when I want. It started as - "oh, my throat hurts - ice cream it is!" and now it's like "Gimme the chocolate now, dummy!" I have woken the sleeping hunger beast. I thought I had whooped it but I guess I just lulled it to sleep for a while. In all honesty- it'll be there forever I think.

I learned something new today.

I like to sweat. If I do something, household chores, running, playing, whatever, and I sweat while doing it - I feel good! If I don't I feel like I didn't accomplish much. New gym mentality perhaps? I like it.

Life has been crazy this summer. We were a little financially strapped to begin with, and then we found out a few weeks ago that we were in the 'extended unemplyment' bracket - so our unemployment was totally cut off. The sole income on the house has been  my weekly child support payments from the Nasty Ex. A whopping $15 a week has kept us in toilet paper and shampoo. Yay. But things are looking up, we got food stamps (so we wouldn't starve) and my hubby got a job! It actually starts today! It's a temp job - but that's all we need, our income goes back up as soon as he's in college again. GI Bill and all that. I'm done being sick and I plan on enjoying a fun summer with my son.

Cuz we gots us a slip and slide.

Yes!!!!!!

Flabby Goes To The Hospital

Ok, so some of you have already read about my very long week.

Tuesday night (or Wednesday morning?) I went to bed at 5am. I couldn't sleep - I've been hacking up a lung. Not a pleasant experience. My brother wakes me up at 7:30 and tells me he has to go to the hospital. Now, my brother would never wake me up unless he's next to dying in pain, so I got up and we went to the ER.

Everyone was awesome. Almost unbelievable, I know, but the nurses got me coffee, they talked to us, the doctors were actually friendly, and they were kind to both of us. I was very impressed. They admitted my brother, he was passing a kidney stone - one from each kidney. So I spent the night with him. Now, I had thrown on my nasty, dirty gym clothes that I hadn't washed - so I ended up spending the day in them. By that evening - I had broken out in a skin rash (I guess I have sensitive skin) and was miserable. I had also gotten my period that morning while waiting in the ER. Great day.

I'm in pain, itching, dirty and starving - and I finally managed to fall asleep at 3AM. My brother had been passed out - thanks to the morphine they gave him - and I had been tiptoeing around all night, trying to be quiet while scratching myself to death. Of course the nurses had to check vitals at 5 AM, so that was all the sleep I got. I decided to go home and shower and change and then go back to the hospital - my brother was going to have to have surgery to remove the stones. I pried my eyelids open and drove home - and sure enough, as I walk in the door, my brother calls me and tells me he passes one of the stones and they were releasing him. No surgery. That was actually good news, so I threw on some clean clothes (minus the shower) and went back. We then proceeded to wait for 2 hours before he was finally released. I could have had my shower after all.

Later that evening, after a shower and a nap, I got Cramps From Hell. Literally. I was hollering and moaning and groaning. So I took almost 2 Vicodin and passed out. The same thing happened Saturday afternoon, so I finally went to the ER myself. Yeah, they recognized me but I was yelling so much I didn't care.

Here's where the story gets real good.

They put me in fast track, because I guess cramps aren't enough for them to really be worried about. I was alright with that, I just wanted the pain to stop. So they come in, ask me what I'm allergic to (compazine) and start an IV. They tried my hands first, because my veins are always deep, and they hit a valve.

I don't know if that has ever happened to you - but let me tell you, that's a pain you don't want. Someone shoving a needle around in your hand, hitting nerves that aren't supposed to be hit, making your feet fly off the bed and making you yell like a dying cow. Pain. PAIN. I started crying and bawling like a baby. I have a slight fear of needles to begin with, and my worst fear had just come true. I wanted to kill someone.

With my hubby holding my hand and trying to soothe me, they try my other arm, this time in the arm, not the hand. They fiddle around in there for a bit and get the IV in. The nurse comes in with pain medication and my anti-nausea medicine.

Now, I'm allergic to compazine, it gives me - in short - anxiety attacks. SO the nurse comes in, and because by now I'm terrified of anything this woman is going to do, I ask her if she has the right medicine. She says, yeah - it's compazine.

WHAT? I was only one short nanosecond away from ripping the needle out of her hand and kicking her in the nuts. If she had 'em. Then she laughs and says she's kidding. Um, ok. Do you see me laughing? I'm crying and hyperventilating and you want to crack jokes about a medicine I'm allergic to? I almost killed her. With my bare hands.

The rest of the visit was ok. I guess. I was still in some pain, and the nurse comes back in and asks me if I'm in pain, and I say yes - to which she replies, "You'll be in some pain, it doesn't all go away", and I'm like what the HELL?!?!? Why did you ask me to begin with - and I was under the impression that I had a right to pain management. Get me out of here, I'll go overdose on aspirin or something.

Then they send me to ultrasound, stick what looks like a very long dildo up my hoo-ha and ram it into all my innards. Fun, fun, fun. Then we go back and I get a pelvic exam, hoo boy howdy. I was all kinds of excited by then. Finally they tell me everything's normal, it's just hormones and I get to go home.

The doctor then proceeds to tell me to take Ibuprofen. I was like, come again? I came in here on heavy duty narcotics and you want me to go home with over the counter ibuprofen? Did you even go to medical school or did you get one of them there online degrees? Why do all the doctors want to give you ibuprofen?

Having a baby?

Take some Ibuprofen!

Broke an  arm?

Take some Ibuprofen!

Toothache?

Take some Ibuprofen!

I hate Ibuprofen. So we just left. And of course I was in pain agian last night, and did the Ibuprofen do anything? Nope. I guess I should be the doctor. Anyway, I'm home now - still coughing, still having pain, but I have my trusty Ibuprofen. I guess it's a good thing I have some Vicodin left over form last time. We'll see.