At least I didn't wake up in my car....

So. Got to try out the new medication last night...and I will admit--I was a little leery.


Last time I took 100mg of Imitrex, I woke up to find my car parked sideways in the driveway, windows down, my purse in the front seat, and various bags of half eaten food from fast food establishments.

I had a drug induced junk food binge which led to me sleeping for like 12 hours straight.

Scariest part? I remembered none of it. And I'm the kind of person that remembers 95% of the stupid, humiliating, horrid things I say, do, see when I'm intoxicated. It's a curse, really. No blacking out for me..oh no. Even when I've prayed for it to happen...no such luck.

So, last night I'm driving home from the boondocks of Hamilton County and I feel it start. The pulsating behind my eyes, the sudden super (it's crazy how fast this happens) sensitivity to light (which is perfect for night driving--makes it a real treat), feeling like my dinner is going to shoot up my throat any second, and finally the radiation of pain all over my skull, down my neck into my shoulders. Yup. Migraine number two of the week (maybe it's the weather??).

Off to CVS I go to pick up my pills. Nine pills. Just nine. Apparently, that's the highest number of these bad boys you can have at one time. So this explains the 10 refills on my script...cause I thought the doctor said 90 pills with all those refills. Hmm. Maybe I need my hearing checked, too. (YIKES) Paid my little fee, drove home, took my pill, grabbed a book...and waited.

After about a half an hour, I had this grody burning in my nose and an awful taste in my mouth. In fact, it's still kind of there. Like when you chew on aspirin. Nastiness that just won't go away. Still had a headache, but not as pounding (still do, actually).

At midnight, I finished my new book, turned off the light and tried to go to sleep.

And this is where it gets weird.

I had the most insane, weird, creepy dreams. Like falling constantly and seeing people falling with you. Talking to them, watching them splat to the ground (and yes--all people I know) and probably die--but I just kept on falling and falling and falling. It was unnerving just floating about waiting for my turn to squish apart on the ground.

Then the one where Yogi could talk. Oh god. I rolled over to see him sleeping next to me, he turned his head and snarled "Hey lady, back OFF! This be my spot!" (Apparently my little fur ball is an angry Jamaican). It was so real that when I woke up freaking out to see him sleeping next to me I actually got out of bed and moved to the couch for a while because I was so weary of him bitch slapping me and calling me names in my sleep.

So. Today? I'm exhausted. I slept like crap and I still have the remnants of a headache. I'm supposed to give this a month and see how I do. If it doesn't improve?

I get put on a Topamax regimen. And it? It has a side effect I can fully support: Weight Loss.

Web MD--you are the devil. And I'm an idiot.

I have found something tragically true about myself.

I have enough information to be dangerous when it comes to my own health. Very. Dangerous.

For example, I have this funny bump behind my ear. I'll be honest, it's kind of freaking me out. Here's a snippet of my inner dialogue every time I think about said bump or, heaven forbid, touch it. Which is constantly.

"Oh God! Is that a lymph node? I wish I had eyes back there! What color is it? Is this why I'm waking up to hoarf my guts out in the middle of the night?" *Panic* " Is it the nasty C word?!??!"

To make matters worse, I'm a literate adult. Who was raised by a nurse. Who was in school when I was a kid. Who tended to leave textbooks lying about. Who should have realized this was an issue because her four year old was reading almost at an adult level...and able to sound out even the nastiest of diseases. Even better? The same kid came wide eyed at her with freaky looking pictures of diseased bits of people asking "Mommy??? What IS THIS?!!!!" So--nothing was really ever censored in my house. No cute names for your bits and pieces and full disclosure in regards to communicable disease.

Which is probably why I REALLY don't like people touching me.

But back to me and my nodule of death....

I went to WebMD to see what the frack this thing IS. Let's see it could be a cyst (most likely), it could be a blocked hair follicle (behind my ear? probably not), it could be cancer, it could be nothing at all and I'm just a freak of nature that breaks out in weird flesh colored bumps.

My eye? Goes straight to cancer. As in "Oh my god. I have cancer. All the headaches and retching? Make total sense. I'm going to die."

Which is a load of total crap (except the dying part--we all bite the dust at some point). I have to rein myself in and tell myself that I don't have cancer, it's just a weird fluke thing, and it's FINE.

Besides I'm going to the doctor tomorrow anyway for new migraine drugs...and I will tell him what I found online at WebMd and the Mayo Clinic and show him my bump....

And he will laugh.

At me.

Right to my face.

And I will deserve it.

Same as it ever was.....kinda. Sorta. Maybe?

Okay--I have to start off by saying watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1wg1DNHbNU&feature=related

I don't know what it is about this song--but it seems appropriate for big decision moments in ones life. For example, I made one yesterday.

Big. Big time.

And it's done. I've put a date on my calendar. I have a deadline to myself--and I refuse to go back on it this time. Refuse!

It's nothing personal--just professional (NO--I am NOT going back to school. I wish! But that's what the future is for. One day, I will be a Dr. of something--trust me.) I sent out a request on Facebook yesterday, and I will repeat it here: If you know anyone who could spare 20 mins of their time to speak to me about Marketing, Advertising, Public Relations (kinda the preferred genre, but I'm not going to be picky), Project Management, etc--please let me know! Know me? Send me an e-mail? Don't know me? Leave me a comment!

So--on a more fun topic...my possessed car? Is fixed!

What was wrong with my car? Well.

Long story short?

It was messed with. The mechanic at the dealership said someone tried to get under the hood of my car--without the benefit of releasing the latch on the inside of my car. This, screwed up the alarm system, which caused the lights to flash and the horn to honk at all hours of the night. It also destroyed the mechanism that keeps the hood down. So--I'm damn lucky it didn't blow up when I was, oh, I don't know, driving on the interstate at 75 miles an hour. I could have killed someone. Or been killed. So--to the stupid, idiotic morons who not only tried to get under my hood, but messed with my tires, too in Bedford?

You will SO get what's coming to you.

Karma? She's a real bitch. And you will deserve: Every. Single. Horrible. Thing. That. Happens. To. You.

So, if it weren't for a really good friend and her amazing soon to be husband? (Thank you Colleene and Mike!!!! You are awesome!)

I would be out some serious cash money.

And you all know how much I hate to be separated from my funds.

And that? Well...I think I will turn to David Byrne again....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Smge23DCE8

Qu'est-ce que c'est??

(And do I plan on causing anyone any harm? No! Because I'm not crazy like so many people are. But I do love that song....)

Sick and the Single Girl

Being sick?

Sucks.

Being sick and living alone?

Double. Sucks.

Now--don't get me wrong. I love living in my little hovel (Right now? I wouldn't let anyone I know through the front door. I've been such a lazy buggar as of late....) solo. No roommate to eat my food, no boyfriend to make me watch Sports Center....again (and again and again and again), no husband that pretends to not know how a dishwasher functions. I mean really--am I missing out on that much?

And yes--that is a rhetorical question people.

So if you value your self esteem--don't answer it.

But..I digress.

Last night, I got home from work around 6:30 pm..and I went to bed. I had a freight train of a migraine going through my head...it hurt so bad I cried like a little girl once my head hit the pillow until I (literally) passed out from pain.

I woke up a little while later, still in agony, but my stomach was making empty noises (Probably because I threw up everything in it off the side of US 136 on my drive home. Classy, no?)

Do you know what I would have given, in that moment, for a real live human being to be living with me? I love my boys, but cats, shouldn't drive. Just ask Toonces. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQkL9LpvKl0)

Besides, Bernie Williams was too busy burrowing into my stomach and Yogi was laying on my feet to be much help for anything.

And all I wanted?

Wonton Soup.

So, I dragged my sad ass outta bed and over to the Chinese place close to my house. $3.25 later, I had a pint of wonton soup and an veggie egg roll.

I really wanted some rainbow sherbet, too--but the grocery was just too far away. (Actually, I don't think my legs would have held me up for too much longer...I got home and fell face first back into bed.)

Drank all the broth, ate half the egg roll, shot back more migraine meds and snuggled in to watch Snapped (A good one! Teenage lesbians continue to go out even though one of them marries a guy to get her family off her back--but the guy finds out about all the sneaking around--and he and the girl he married kill the second girl by cutting her throat...gruesome! Just what I needed to watch to take my mind off things...I know, I know--I'm not right.)

I woke about 3 am...and would have sold my soul for a ginger ale. But the cats, as usual, were not helpful. So, again, I dragged myself out of bed, got my drink, took more pills and prayed for unconsciousness to overtake me. No such luck..but I tried.

Maybe what I need is a live in housekeeper. This would solve two problems for me 1) My house would be so much cleaner! and 2) There would always be someone here to bring me ginger ale.

I think I have a new life goal.....better start the planning to make this happen!

Unless I find some poor sap to put up with me first.

Hmm.....

Better start saving for the maid!

It's Banned Book Week!

Ah...America.


Home of the Free. Home of the Brave.


Home of the "We know better than you so we are going to deny you your constitutional rights to read this book. Trust us--it's for your own good!"

Why do we allow others to think for us like this? You know what other countries banned books?


Nazi Germany

North Korea

Communist Block Countries

USSR/Russia


Um. Last time I checked, we were a Republic, so, yea.
Back off people who think they know everything (Yes. I'm talking to you super, super scary people who think dinosaurs and people walked the earth at the same time.)--and let me enlighten some of you with a list of my all time favorite banned books; enjoy!


1) The Great Gatsby--by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Who doesn't love a story about drunken socialites, LOTS of marital infidelity, and suicide?? This story just reaffirms money doesn't buy happiness. People have the same emotional problems no matter how much money they have in the bank.


2) To Kill a Mockingbird--by Harper Lee.

Probably, no--I'm going to say it--this IS the best American novel of the 20th century. There. I've said it. Can't take it back. If you haven't read this? Leave the country. Now. You don't deserve your citizenship.


3) Lolita--by Vladmir Nabokov.

The genius of this book is, a friend once told me, that you feel sorry for Humbert. You know--the pedophile? He likes girls of a certain age, well, because he's a pervert. And young Lolita? Lolita takes him for everything he's got. You dislike both of them equally....Nabokov is brilliant, no?


4) A Farewell to Arms--Ernest Hemingway.

Again, this was banned because there's S-E-X in it. Not blatant pornographic sex, but when you have an unmarried nurse carrying on with a patient, and then she gets pregnant? Oh the humanity! Actually--this is my favorite Hemingway..I think he captures quite poignantly the innocence he fully lost while serving as an ambulance driver in WWI (and falling in love with a nurse on the battlefields). His later work is misogynistic and not very nice towards women. It's nice to know that at one time, he had the capacity to fully love.

5)Gone with the Wind--by Margaret Mitchell.

I will admit, this is totally a guilty pleasure for me, but it also contains my alter ego (well--let's just say who I really do aspire to be in some ways)--Katie Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler. Oh, she's a real bitch..and I love every single second she's on the page. What's she going to do next? Survival of the fittest never looked so damn good! It's also a fantastic reminder that in the good old days? People were NOT more moral, more Christian, more nice, or even had better manners. It's just human nature wanting to gloss over the ugly parts of the past and pretend that they didn't happen. Kudos to Margaret Mitchell for laying it all out there--you see Old Dixie all right--warts and all.

6) Slaughterhouse Five--by Kurt Vonnegut

Indianapolis' Native Son, a real pioneer of the later half of the 20th century. A humanist with a real soul, if you want my opinion. Who else could really make you feel the plight of Billy Pilgrim? Time traveling prisoner of war? What else can I say to you but READ THIS BOOK. You will be a better person for it. Truly.


7) Lady Chatterly's Lover--D.H. Lawrence.

This is not a "smutty book"! Well--okay. It's kind of smutty, but not in the way you're thinking (get your mind out of the gutter pervert). It's a tragic story. She loves her husband, but then he's paralyzed and becomes emotionally dead to his wife. She's young, she's fairly attractive--she's a physical being who craves the love of a man. The mind alone cannot keep a person satisfied...this is why we have bodies. It's a real warning to those of us (like me), who tend to think we don't need affection or love from another to be fully satisfied souls. Guess what? We really, truly do.

8) An American Tragedy--Theodore Dreiser

Another Indiana boy--and one of my favorite writers, period. It's the story of a street missionary who flees his parents and the uber religious life only to fall in love with the wrong girl. Well, the right girl, actually--he just happens to get another girl pregnant first. Girl number one ends up dead in a lake. Girl number two? The beautiful and rich Sondra--who happens to love Clyde as much as he loves her. His great plan to get rid of Roberta goes horribly wrong..and well. I think you know how this story ends. One of the best book to screen movies ever made, A Place in the Sun, with the ethereal Elizabeth Taylor (so young--so heartbreakingly beautiful), Montgomery Clift, and the superb Shelley Winters, is worth checking out if you come across it.

So there you have--a mere snippet of the literally hundreds of books (which, FYI are mostly young adult and kids novels--Hunger Games, Harry Potter, and Beverly Clearly books have all been banned by countless school systems) that are banned in somewhere in the United States. A little crazy, huh?

Actually--it's a lot crazy.

So read on--and enjoy!

On a serious note...

Sometimes--things just add up and wallop you one right after another.

Trouble with cash flow? Check.

Trouble with my job? Check.

Trouble finding a new job? Check.

Trouble with life in general? Check. Check. And CHECK.

Boy oh boy. What a rough last eight weeks it's been. Silly me, wandering along, thinking for once--just once--things were, to quote Bing Crosby, "Going my Way!". Job prospects, my house was somewhat in order, and a good thing that people gave me nothing but shit for--but in a good natured way.

Well..fast forward. Grrrrr. Not. Bloody. Likely.

I really do try to be a glass half full person. But, being a realist at heart, sometimes this just doesn't work. So you step back and take a look at the clusterfuck that is your life...and you see that....

The problem?

The problem is me.

ME.

Yup. And I'm going to try really hard to fix it. Right now, I'm falling back into some old, scary habits that I really need to get reined in before it gets to be too much. But, I have this need to feel in control of something in my life...

So. For the first time in many (many) years--I know I can't do this myself. I can't fix me alone. And I certainly can't ask my friends to put up with more than they already have. I sat down today and looked into seeing a professional. I sent out some inquiries so we will see how it goes.

Hopefully not like the last time--I paid a stupid amount of money to be told there was nothing wrong with me, that it was the people around me with issues, got a pat on the head and a bill on my way out.

Hmm. While I like to think that part of the above is true--it's probably not 100%.

So--I wonder if Dr. Katz is available?

                                                     

(Sadly--I'm dating myself here, aren't I?)

So. Back to the normal, silly, non-sensical angry girl stuff soon...I promise! But I felt the need to get something this big off my chest.

Guess that's a start in the right direction, huh?

Baby Games....

Okay.

A few months back, I agreed (with no hesitation, mind you) to assist with my dear, dear cousin's baby shower coming up this Saturday.

I pulled game duty. I usually like making snacks or something--but considering there may be 75 people or so there--I think games are just fine by me.

So...my first idea was a baby obsticle course. How fast can you change a diaper? Put clothes on them? Get a kid in a car seat? Get them out of the car seat? I thought it would be fantastic to see people running around like fools. But..apparently, the elderly and the overweight don't like to run.

Or, more likely, the place we are having the baby shower doesn't want any law suits brought against them for when 80 year old ladies bite it on the church carpet.

Oh well. C'est la vie. If I am ever lucky enough (no--this is not said sarcastically) reproduce? This is the kind of farce I want at my baby shower. Please--and I know there are some of you out there who love me enough to do this--make it so.

So. I went with the much safer Baby Food game (pick twelve kinds of baby food--make sure pairs of them look alike. Make people guess which is which). The hardest part of the baby food game? You try finding 12 kinds of baby food that look alike. That don't have meat in them (BARF). Guess who will be having vegetarian offspring...until they can chew their own damn meat, anyway.

So. Right now I have eight jars. I think I'm going to have to broaden my search and go to a few more stores. Maybe tonight if I buy baby food with my cat food--people won't give me that shameful "Oh..you're a single girl. With cats." stare.

My second game is going to be sort of a Baby themed Price is Right. Fun, right? A friend of mine likes this game because it reinforces just how expensive babies are "And if you are freaked out by how much one basket of crap costs? You shouldn't be having any kids!" (And yes-I'm a firm believer if you can't feed yourself--you have NO DAMN BUSINESS reproducing. It's called an IUD. Go get one. I think the state should even pay for it if you already popped one out that you can't afford...Seriously--that's really how I would like my tax dollars to work. Not. Kidding.)

So. I'm explaing the above fun time to my mom. Dear. Mother. Sigh. Please enjoy the following e-mail exchange:

Me: I think one of my games is going to be "Baby Price is Right!" So, if you want to go in on the gift basket idea, I will pick up stuff for the game--and it can be part of our presents. Sound good? That way, you don't have to worry about getting anything else. Sound good??

Mom: I have never heard of the guess the price game. How does it work? (Really?? Mom...really?)

Me: You have items---and people have to guess how much they cost. The person who ends up with the total closes to what the items actually cost, wins the prize.

Carmen likes this game because it shows how expensive babies are. So if you can't afford them--you shouldn't have them : )

Mom:  So do you put Baby items in the basket? 

Me: No..I thought I would find some crack. Maybe a hooker? Or do you think a hooker is too much? Hmm. Maybe a blow up doll, instead.  And do you think condoms would be in bad taste?

Mom: WHAT?!?!

Me: Hey--crazy lady. Of course you put baby things in a basket. Geesh.

And you guys wonder why I'm nuts.