Ruminations on the number '42'

42... Douglas Adams had it pegged as the answer to 'life, the universe, EVERYTHING'. So I'm taking that as my cue for this next year. I would rather that than 'The world is my oyster'... My mother once described oysters as 'black snot balls', years and years and years ago. I have had oysters. I don't like oysters. My mother's voice in my head has taken care of that.
I've had the day off work, and I spent it in the kitchen, and on the couch (watching tv randomly). In the kitchen making my (now) annual Lemon Meringue Pie. I still don't like birthday cake. Cloying, over-sweet icing made with shortening... Or I can have an all-butter crust with homemade Meyer lemon curd topped with meringue whipped up in my handy-dandy KitchenAid.
I'll have pie, please.
I feel very blessed. Not by 'God/dess' or anything, just... by the universe. I have made it through. I am no longer, not by a long shot, a child. I survived. Given the fact that humans are quite fragile in their own right, and I haven't exactly had it super-duper easy (not that I've had to work in a mine or anything, but the emotional abuse over the years?) Pssshhht... Bring it on. I survived. I have family I love, I have a painted man who still makes me blush and stammer like a schoolgirl, lovers I hold in my heart and in my head and in my hands. I love my friends, and I have no real enemies. I have people I don't like-just flat out don't like and will go out of my way to avoid, and I have people who are attracted to me, but I'm not attracted to them. Not in a sexual way, in a friendship way. Those people, they're outside my sphere.
I have others I'd like in my sphere, but they dance about the edge, just that infinitesimal amount of inaccessible. Such is life on this pale blue dot, and still we want.
I want.
And the next 42 years?
Bring 'em on!

a call in the dark....

...come back to us!!!
 From Coopernicus.

I heeded the call. It has, after all, been since Halloween. We had zero trick or treaters. ZERO. Nicht. Nada. Zip. Nothing.  I was (vaguely) disappointed, but this is the Bible Belt...Or the buckle thereof. Pick your bit of the belt, how's that?
Then a zip through November, fraught with various illnesses and malaise, a trip to the ER for my painted man, headcolds and stomach viruses all around...  I do work in a call center. It is on par with a daycare for illnesses. A good Thanksgiving was had (we had guests! J2&TRex(with baby bump in tow!) showed up unexpectedly). I think I should just get used to the fact that nobody RSVPs, and if I invite people over, I should just plan for a crowd and clean accordingly.  Got responses on Samhain and nobody showed up. No responses for Turkeyday and we had guests. Go figure. So I'm just going to remember 'If you invite them, they may come', and not wait for a 'Yes, I'll be there' to run a vacuum and put up my laundry piles.
I also managed to complete another NaNoWriMo, and I'm still writing it. Reliquary of Dreams. Time travel. If you want the link, EMAIL ME and I'll hook you up.

So that brings us to December in this listing of things and stuff. December. Cold. I think of December and I think 'It's going to be cold. Very cold. All the light will go away and it will be cold.' The light goes away because it's at the wrong angle in the sky to begin with here... having your golden orb hanging about 10 degrees off what it should be (subjectively) isn't fun at all and messes with my sense of time. But it hasn't been cold. Up until the last 2 weeks or so, we've been warm. Warm. 60's warm. But I still got sick. Still have the chest part of it, too. I was an early adopter of this particular cold (one of the supervisors just came down with it), getting it on the 8th...How do I know? Because I stayed home on the 9th (aced out on that one-thought I was calling in sick only to hear there were system issues and everyone was home). Then I missed the 12th, too. Still ill. Then it settled into a chest cold (it's not bronchitis...not severe enough-just a continuing cough) and there it sits, still gathering & clearing my winter sniffles.

Then, my stress levels went through the roof. As if it weren't enough (not to sound like I'm whining, but it feels like I'm whining and maybe I am, but I don't want to-does that make sense???) that money is tight not only due to the economy in general-
tangent: Milk here, whole milk, is at $3.58 a gallon. WHAAAA? 2 years ago, it was $2.19 a gallon. shakin' my head, i'm shakin' my head...
-not only due to the economy in general, but I've been sick, Sic-un's been sick (including his trip to the ER), so hours spent at work are down-which creates less money- the circle means it's tight...
Then I get a call from my dad. on...the 15th? 16th? one of the 2.
Mom's in the hospital. She couldn't breathe, so they took her in. Admitted. They took two liters of fluid out of one of her lungs. Yeah. Hold a 2 liter bottle up to your chest. Now. Drain that from one lung. Yeah.
They run their tests. She tells me Monday they found 'spots'. No more information, just 'they found spots' and 'more tests'. My anxiety and panic attacks start. Brief little random attacks of the little guy in my skull freaking out on me...I breathe and they go away. So I'll be ok, Mom'll be OK, not a problem, we got this.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011, I found out my mother has lung cancer.

Here's your kiss and punch, kiddo: It has not metastasized, but it's very aggressive. Oooh, more passive-aggression: Your mother will be having chemo for Christmas, radiation on her birthday (NYE...grampa's little tax deduction). Per my father.
It wasn't until i spoke to my sister 3 days later that I found out what was really going on. Still a 1-2 punch combo, but not nearly as dire as Dad made it.
Yes, it's aggressive. No, it has not metastasized. It responds very well to chemo. Stage 1. Stage 1. Small-cell sarcanoma. Her lung started filling up with fluid again, so they sent her to ICU with a respirator and a drain. She was getting enough oxygen, just not expelling enough CO2.  They started the chemo, it has been responding. All plusses. ALL PLUSSES. Potentially out of the hospital this weekend. She does chemo for 6 months on a 21 day rotation, light radiation to protect her brain and other internals from any radicals after the chemo is finis, she'll be good. They've found dead cancer cells in the fluids she's been getting rid of. The doctor says the fluid expulsion is basically her body fighting it the only way it can.
All is good on the Mom front, right?

I feel like I'm losing my mind.  The anxiety attacks have become almost a daily happenstance. Out of nowhere, the little guy in my head starts screaming for Momma....My heart pounds, my breathing becomes labored, I start to sweat, my stomach knots, sounds go wonky and my vision blurs because I've suddenly teared up. This morning's episode lasted somewhere around 4 hours... About 15 minutes before I left the house, here comes the shakes and the thought 'Ok, slow down. Stop. Just be still, breathe' because I know all hell is about to break loose in my skull and I can't control it and it's going to go physio...
I have to coach myself through my calls so I don't start berating the customers. My smile is plastered on my face like so much makeup if anyone who isn't an intimate friend looks at me. I have to count my breathing because otherwise I start hyperventilating. People standing around me talking makes me want to curl up and scream with my hands over my ears. Little things are becoming big things. We're switched to stadium seating for a few weeks while reorganization of the teams takes place-Oh.My.God. It's just a seat switch, right? Not working for me. Not working at all. Other phonepads don't sound right. They have a buzz. This chair sucks, that one does too. This computer is slow. I want my old seat back. 'We switched to stadium seating' becomes 'Why the fuck did you let that snotty little fucking lisping cow sit in MY SEAT?!?!' Little becomes big. Someone annoys me, just their voice or mannerism or hell, they BREATHE and it kills me for a couple of days. I get a coaching ('you did this wrong') and I want to quit. The only thing that's preventing me from it is that I really don't want to go looking for another job, and, well... Back to money.
I can't afford missed work. I can't afford a shrink (even with insurance). I can't afford a doctor, frankly. I don't have a primary, so I'm left with the stupid 'take care' clinic that's great for diagnosing a sinus infection, but pretty much useless for anything else. So I'm self-medicating when I'm off work and aum-aum-aum-ing my way through each. fucking. workday. Because I can't call in to make myself better, and I can't afford a doctor to make me better.
And I still owe the hospital for my ER bill from JULY when I had my toe xrayed.
And someone ran into Lancelot while I was in the store getting sodas and beer a couple nights ago. Lovely little dent by the driver's door, towards the rear. Some old lady from 2 rows over said she saw it and 'he just drove away before I could pull out a pen for his license plate'.
Thanks. My one possession worth any money at all and now it's severely damaged. It was his best saving grace...He didn't have any body damage. Well, that's fucked now.
Christmas really really sucked this year. Sic-un did get me a new mouse. I loves it. HE got new slippers and a shirt and some new hats. I gave my other loves baked goods and candy. It's all I could really afford.

So stress is through the roof and the insomnia is worse and I feel like crap and I want to just huddle in a ball and cry for a month on my momma's lap.

How are you?

http://www.signs-of-stress.com/images/StressSymptoms.gif

Happy Samhain!

The wheel turns, the wheel burns, and it is Samhain again, the time when the veil between the worlds is thinnest and anything is possible during the New Year....


Above is my contribution to the Pumpkin Patch this year... He's gonna go out on the porch 'round about 6ish, 7ish...whenever.
I'm being 'loose' this year. We are having people over-almost as an afterthought. I decided I wanted to make soda bread and Irish Beef Stew (with Guinness!), and TRex&J2 were at loose ends, so they were invited to dinner, and J is at loose ends, so he's invited to dinner...
Sic-un is currently taking a nap and I've been cooking.
Bread, then stew. And the stew is simmering.
The house is clean.
Laundry is done.
I'm wearing clean clothes.
The house smells good (stew-YUMYUM)...
I think I'm gonna hit my pipe and kick back a few until people start arriving...If they do. If they don't, no biggie.
Like I said...I'm being 'loose' this year.

Happy Halloween, my loves. Be safe and be smart and have a ton of fun.

auuuummmmmm.....auuuummmmm.....

I can't seem to stay away.
Yes, I propositioned J again. Well, actually, it was pointing out that since he works 3rd shift with Sunday and Mondays off and hobbies and a life and stuff and I work 2nd shift with Saturday & Sunday off and my own hobbies and life and stuff, there was nothing preventing me from dropping by his place, say...some Saturday morning? Until now, it's been here, either in the closet (when Sosu was still here, if he happened to be home/sleeping) or in the spare room (formerly Sosu's-it's a tangent).
And then a bit later in the conversation/discussion, I asked him if he wanted company.
I now have 3 large-ish hickeys as a necklace.
I gave as good as I got, although with him latched on lamprey-like to my collarbone, I was able to reach his pec instead of his collarbone for my own serious marking...Yes, serious. Deep burgundy, almost purple. Including an artistic little triangular one.
And I had to be mostly quiet. I think I did OK at that...for the most part. Jury's still out.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend the morning.

And then tonight, I made turkey & dumplings since Sic-un can't eat chicken (and there's a girl at work whose mother is the same the way). It was heavenly. I roasted the turkey bits beforehand (a breast tenderloin and a bone-in, skin on thigh) with just a dab of butter and some seasoning. Then I threw 1/2 an onion (chopped) and a carrot (chunked) into some chicken broth (ultra processed chicken=ok for Sic-un) with the bones & nasty bits from the roasted with the pan juices. Let that go about 1 1/2 hours, seasoned it to perfection. The meat was chopped & waiting in the roasting dish (too small an amount for a pan-I used my Corningware casserole dish). I strained the broth into the meat, pulled the fond, threw the meat & now strained broth into a simmer, waited about 1/2 an hour. Again adjusted seasoning, throwing in some poultry seasoning mix I have. Let that go about 1 hour. Then dumplings. I used the Betty Crocker recipe, using soda instead of powder. Still turned out. I let the dumplings go about 10 minutes, then threw in small new redskin potatoes and some frozen corn for veg. Then another half hour, 45 minutes. The dumplings, for the most part, disintegrated into the broth, making it super creamy rich.
I had 2 bowlsful.

Sosu is an enigma right now. He was living here, then not. His stuff is still here, but he hasn't darkened the door in over a month. Part of his time has been spent in Washington, I know that. Sic-un's father, a very, VERY dashing man (he gave the impression he'd be perfectly at home flinging a scarf over his shoulder as he rescued his lady love) recently ... There is no good way to say someone has died, you know?  A sudden attack of cancer, actually. No, really. His PET scan was the ...6th and he was in the hospital the evening of the 8th. Never really left it, although they got him into hospice care. My beautimous Sic-un is broken from it. I wish I could make him feel better.

And that's been the latest. Otherwise, it's just apathy and stress for the most part.

argh.

i have no idea what to write...
I can talk about J flabbergasting me this evening by telling me I have him wrapped around my little finger if I want to assert that...
I don't know how I feel about this, it just flabbergasted me. And I'm still a bit poleaxed over it.... I don't like that kind of control over people. I don't like giving people that kind of control over me and I don't like having that kind of control. I made a pithy comment about 'Autonomy!' and left it at that, which was decidedly unsatisfying.
What do you tell people that say (in effect) "You have huge amounts of power over me"?

The alternate dimension is grating on me lately. We got a new supervisor of supervisors. I would say no big deal, but you know how you can just feel that someone doesn't like you and will never like you, that you just rub them the wrong way so it's best if you stay out of direct contact? Yeah...doesn't work so well if they're above the person above you.
You start wondering if everything you do is wrong or if your job is in jeopardy because you might have said or done something months and potentially years ago to piss off the big boss. It's been stressful, to say the least. And it's all well and good to say 'take a day off', but apparently, I can't even do that properly. Sic-un has been hollerin' to gather up PTO and take a 'real' vacation next year. So I requested time off as unpaid. Denied. Ok. So I can't take time off unless it's paid. OK... So now I have to take all time off as paid and there goes any vacation plans for the future because my attendance at the place is shit. As soon as one absence rolls off, I manage to get another one. I've been on 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 absences for a fucking year now. So I'm trying to get my attendance cleaned up so I CAN call in for the bullshit days, when I really can't muster up the bubble, you know? And yes. Attendance counts. Each absence stays on your record for a month, if you don't call in for a month, you get 1 absence off. So what's been happening with mine, you may ask. I got it down to 2 1/2 and then headache. Or cramps so bad I can't move. Or car fucked up, or broken toe or sick... It counts unless I go to the doctor (money I can't afford) and get a note and a 'return to work by' date..

And the stress...it weighs heavily.

It's all coming down to money, unfortunately. I keep hoping to win the jackpot (faithfully buying $5 in tickets every payday), and realize I won't, but I can hope to get it. I was going to take Monday & Tuesday off to go find a couch since I have to shop for it and arrange for delivery and all that... That's what I was denied. The reason? Oh, well, you have the weekends to go shopping.
I didn't ask for your validation of my reason. I asked for approval to not show up to work and get something done that needed done.

I'm just having a bad time of it. I'm under stress and not sleeping and not hungry for food, although I'll take junk food at any time, apparently. I"m poor and I hate my job and I want to have FUN and there isn't a whole lotta fun. I've just got a lot of people wanting to use me as a sounding board and nobody wants to hear me. "OOOh, I've got this new gaming group up even though you have no interest in this particular game, I'm going to wax poetic about it for your entire break!' Thin smile and no interest doesn't work. I'm going to have to be direct and blunt and I hate to be direct and blunt. I suck at it. I stammer and my face turns red and it's embarrassing-the blushing, not the tasks- to have your face go bright red at a moment's notice.


So. Stress. And no...just to forestall any helpful suggestions: A stress ball does NOT work for this. I'm gonna have to tough it out. But thanx for listening I appreciate it.

lost links...

Guys, had to edit page & kill blogrolling. If you want a link, let me know and I'll be adding links back too...just have to find my addresses ;)

Something about Wednesday...

Yes, Dear Reader, I know it's Thursday. It's actually 9:11 am on Thursday, and I've been up since 6:45. Awake since 6:38. Sitting here, in the quiet morning, it occurred to me that my worst insomnia days are Wednesdays. I took a muscle relaxant last night, threw a Mike's on top, and it still took me forever to be tired enough to fall asleep... I went to bed at 2:15 this morning, after waking up at 7:50 Wednesday morning. 4 1/2 hours of sleep.
I don't like this. I really don't like my insomnia and long for the days where I could sleep for 14 hours and then take a nap a few hours later. It makes me tired and grouchy and just colors the day ick.
I also realized I don't really eat on Wednesdays... We may have had pasta last Wednesday... We were planning on pasta last night. Then I got home, Sosu wasn't here, texted him-no, he wasn't going to be home, but he scrubbed the bathtub-and I decided I just wasn't hungry. Later, I had some popcorn with parmesan-no butter (Sosu had the last of it the other day. Payday is tomorrow. Grocery shopping is either Friday night or Saturday morning.) and just wasn't hungry. Then pasta last week, week before that I'm sure was something quick, dirty and just graze. Tracking my food made me realize my diet is still shit, but not for what I'm eating...it's how I'm eating. I don't, typically, get enough calories. I'm just not hungry.
I wonder if the 2 are related, the insomnia and not eating, but the superstitious side of me screams "It's because it's WEDNESDAY, you idiot!"
I always have vague feelings of doom Wednesday mornings. The old poem says Wednesday's child is full of woe. Slight problem...I was born on a Tuesday. That's a laugh. I am NOT graceful. But doom-y days of the week aside, Wednesdays are usually when bad things happen for me.
I've been having car trouble lately, Lance doesn't want (yes, I named 'it' 'Lance', thereby changing 'it' from sexless to male) to keep his alternator belt on without a whole lot of checking, fussing, tightening and cursing. I've also been late to Alternate Dimension 2x because of him. Monday I took a do-over. I just said 'Do Over'. Yesterday, I ended up working over to make up for it so it doesn't count.
Maybe it's stress. I don't really have huge amounts to be stressed over, though. We have food, there's a roof over our heads, we're making our bills. What worries?
Yes, I'm being sarcastic. Prices have gone sky high. Milk, just a couple years ago, was $2.58 a gallon. Now? $3.59. At it's cheapest. And yes...I do shop around. I have also started using coupons. And trying for discount gas on my shopper's card. The dryer went out, and the couch is almost unusable. Lance keeps freaking out here and there (and I *really* cannot afford a car payment. I have $20 in my checking account right now, and $10 on the table. That's it. Really REALLY cannot afford a car payment) and is just more cause for bits of stress and worry... Sic-un. He worries me. He hurts, I can do nothing about it, and it just...
I love him. I worry about him. Sosu. Worry about him. I worry about all the people I love, really. Kinda bites sometimes, but you suck it up and deal, right? And I know it's hard all over, most people are going paycheck to paycheck, and I say I'm lucky I have no house payment-rent means no property taxes, either- no car payment, I'm not in debt up to my eyeballs (I owe $240 on a credit card and I owe the hospital $150 for my ER visit last month), I have food, I can cook, I can get another job if I have to (don't particularly want to, because the job market does suck), but..I'm pretty lucky. I will acknowledge I have stress.

But still... I wonder... What the hell is it about Wednesday?

and lo! There was light....

...you think? Nah. Don't like the sentence. Oh well.
Nothing new to report. Well, I have lost 23 pounds. that's not new, though. But 'struth... I will admit I did take the month of July off. But. August. Started again. I'm tired of the fat suit. Getting back in the swing of doing cardio every day.

Oh! I know. Our dryer broke, so now laundry has become a serious fucking pain in the ass. I usually don't mind laundry. I'll mind bits of it (like folding...I understand folding, but don't like to), but generally speaking, I don't dread doing laundry.  Or at least, didn't pre-dryer loss. Post is another story. We've been alternating between running clothes to the laundromat to dry or hanging them to dry, depending on if I have towels to dry or not...Towels are the break point. No line to dry on, we're hanging them on hangers in the closet (which, if you remember, is the remaining 'spare room') and putting some use to the swingset.  I hate hanger-dried clothes. They're stiff. There is no air moving through them, so they wind up stiff. And scratchy. It's better if we can hang them outside, but there's only 5 hooks set up I can use. And no replacement dryer until at LEAST September.
Money, as you're well aware, is tight. Sic-un's back has caused lack of work hours, which causes strain to the bimonthly money transfer... Work transfers it to my bank, I transfer it to the utilities, grocery store, gas stations and landlord.
I'm still not getting laid on a regular basis. I have, a couple times in the past...what? 6 weeks? Yeah. 6 weeks. 2x with J, 1x with Sosu... Over 6 weeks. And I'm with someone. That's what's baffling me.
Sic-un's back is still jacked up and still paining him on a regular basis, especially when stupid fucks at work (usually cunts, but they're all cunts if they hurt him) insist on doing things like pounding him on the back as a way of greeting??? Either that or they'll run into him even though the bosses have him basically off by himself... Work has been seriously hazardous to his health and it hurts his back and that affects response and desire. Sosu no longer has a girlfriend, and apparently is open for business again, but he didn't tell ME that...he left a note on Sic-un's computer one morning. He'll have to actually make the move for anything to happen (I started touching him, he said no, haven't touched him since. You tell me no, you'll have to make it abundantly clear the answer has changed to yes). And J... Ha. It is to laugh. His schedule at work is changing, meaning his gaming schedule changes as well. Sex isn't a real high priority for him. And now it's even more of a non-priority due to scheduling.

I will say I have met a really solid individual-it was actually on FB where I first encountered him, and then Sic-un and I just met him IRL on the 2nd. He lives in Bristol, VA, so we took the bike. Good ride. DGL shall be his designation. He's smart, funny, sweeter than dammit and wickedly spot-on. Why don't I take him to bed, you may ask. Well, Dear Reader, he lives in Bristol-about 3 hours away, and gas is expensive- and well.... He's paralyzed from the mid-chest down and there ain't much down from mid-chest. Yeah, he's an amputee. Left leg from hip down and right leg from about 4" down. He's also covered in ink, willing to let me use what bits of skin he has open as practice. He's an artist himself (gorgeous! artwork), a hobby horticulturist (he rattles off Latin taxonomy the way I rattle off ingredients), and just fuckin' smarter than fuck! He was paralyzed before he was an amputee, and is really an amputee because he was paralyzed. So. No real sex with him is possible. However, he's more than into oral as compensation, and I'm looking to shamelessly exploit that, but...
It's Bristol. It's 3 hours away. My car windows don't roll down. I have no A/C and hey...it's fuckin' hot out there. So it'll have to wait until fall.
And time ticks on.
So that's the past 6 weeks. No changes in anything except it's starting to kinda piss me off...I want to be independently wealthy so I can quit a job I'm not really enjoying (and haven't seriously enjoyed for a # of years) and start my projects. 

One last thing.... I joined Google+ sometime in the near past. If y'all know my name, feel free to add.

So another post....

about what? 3 weeks from the first? Just under? Something like?
I have to give pre-warning. I've been drinking.
And since Sosu made my last drink, I feel I may be fading fast....
But first, I felt the need to bitch.
Sosu made my drink, you say? Do I finally have a cabana boy?
Why, yes YES I DO...
And I'm not happy. not really.
I haven't gotten laid in weeks, which is criminal....
The boy moved in like, 3 weeks ago...NOTHING. Some mackin' on the couch and that's about it.
I've been resorting to the toys.
Sic-un? His back's been off because of the weather, but in good news, he now has insurance and only has to wait until January/February until it's not considered to be a pre-existing condition any more.
I've lost a grand total of like, 22 pounds. I think I look pretty damn good, or at least not weird any more. It got to where I felt like I had some kind of fat suit on. Couldn't take it. Couldn't take the jiggle. And I have gotten comments---Usually from women, although J2 said I looked good the other day and a random stranger said I was working the jeans when I stopped at the smoke shop a few weeks ago---But from my partner, from my fuck-buddies?
J may come up the weekend of the 4th. MAY. Gaming is more important. Sic-un has his back---which is causing a serious lack of turn-on... And Sosu is working on a fat chick. Yeah, a fat chick. My luck.
I pick fuckin' chubby chasers and decide to lose fuckin' weight.
I'm feeling really down right now and could really use someone else, someone other than Ms. Hand...even if she is wearing a glove so I get some 'strange'.
I feel like I'm whining and don't particularly want to, but can't seem to help myself.
What the fuck good am I if I can't even get fucked by my fucking partner or either EITHER!!!! of my 2 FWB's??? What the fuck???

Damn...June already.

It's June. Already. Half the year heading to the great past. I'm up to 20 pounds gone, and I now have some visible muscle going on. It's nice to start seeing the curve of a bicep instead of the bulge of a fat arm. And my endurance level is up. The AD is same-same. We've been attempting to be social lately, and I've been giving my cooking skills great workouts. Fresh buttermilk pancakes were the latest triumph, but they were on the heels of (drum roll) homemade, real, fresh, German Chocolate Cake and (fanfare) BREAD.
Yes, Dear Reader, I baked bread. I broke my bread barrier. Wheat and white were conquered. I'm going to try keeping it up. Cinnamon rolls may be next (whole wheat cinnamon rolls, actually).

I've been thinking a lot lately about my worldview and how I see everything. I think I've mentioned before about how I think everyone on the planet is the center of their own personal universe. Your friends are not my friends, my friends are not yours, so on and so forth. My universe is connected, even peripherally, to all these other universes around it. Sic-un's is rightthere, so is Sosu and J's, closer than most. Mako's right there... I picture successions of Venn diagrams when I try to visualize it. So rather than call it the 'universe', why not call it the multiverse?  I take it a bit further, and view people in terms of how they come into my personal section. As I said, your friends aren't mine, your life=/= my life...It's how it is. It's why everyone has an opinion, it's part of how we're each individuals seemingly struggling for the same goal (but we're not...your goals do not equal my goals, after all).
J2 just found TRex, and that's kinda what touched all this off... Their relationship is going much the way Sic-un's and my relationship has. One day, there appears to be no hope for True Love on the horizon and then the next day, there's a couple. TRex is now in my circle. She is under my protection. She's mine. I started really noticing how easily I slotted her in directly next to J2 and she touches me that way. She's mine.
Sosu is mine too. He was up this weekend and we were going to work on his cross on his leg. That kindof fell through-his nutrition is shit and his hydration was shit and his skin just didn't want it-we'll try again soon. I found myself, all this weekend, apologizing for caring about him. He's only 18 and I don't want him to think I'm in love with him, but I love him. I care about him, you know? He's mine. His circle is rightthere too. I claim him. J, same thing. I claim him. He's mine. Care about him? Yes, yes I do. Grasshopper, she's right there, and she's claimed.
But I found myself apologizing to Sosu for worrying about him. He looks like he's lost some weight that he can little enough afford, and he's very tired. I tried to get it out to him, but I'm so very afraid I'll say it badly and he'll either get spooked or he'll take it the wrong way and think I'm in love with him, you know?
I do love him, though. I think the human capacity for love is constricted by societal mores and morals, none of which apply very much to me. I can honestly say I love a tremendous amount of people, each in their own unique way. Sosu... I love him. I love his mind, his heart, his loyalty. He has more loyalty than a cocker spaniel. And he just gets kicked and kicked and kicked. I don't want to kick him, I want to soothe him. I love him unconditionally, no strings, just him for who he is, but... He's 18. And you can't tell an 18 year old you love them, not when you're 41 and his father is your partner... He'll either take it as if I'm in love with him (and I'm not) or as if I want him to 'cleve only unto me', which isn't the case at all. I consider him a 'boyfriend', because he's more than a 'friend with benefits', but the no strings becomes key for that. I don't think of 'boyfriend' the way other people do. But he is my boyfriend, and I do love him and found myself apologizing incessantly this weekend.

That's the latest figuring on my multiverse theory.

Came across this....

...and it was too cool, so I had to share.

And update! Current weight loss=16 pounds. My arms are thinning...and the size 16 pants I *just* bought not 3 months ago? Um, yeah, I need to look at potentially taking them in.
Sic-un's birthday is at the end of the month and I have a 4 day weekend to spend with him...and a party at my house! I'll see if I can remain sober enough to be my charming self ;)
And I have made DECENT WHEAT BREAD! I have the white bread experiment in the pan on its final rise right now. I have good thoughts and high hopes about the white. We'll see in about 1 hour, though.
AAAANNnnnnd.... K at work let me ink her incredibly responsive skin. Sparrow on the leg-outline is done. And Sosu...He's been inked. Stained glass cross covering the stupid gang symbol he got on his leg. Why? "My friend said it would be cool."
SIGH. Oh well. At least he gets a decent coverup.

Roll call!

Now that comments is fixed....
"Sound off like you gotta pair!"
There. I channeled my inner Ermy.
Even Anon. I'd like to know how many still read.
There's Sic-un (uhhuh!), TechReader checked in, Anonymous1 checked in...
Who else?
Hearts and love....Or hatred and bile...I aim to please :D

From Blogger:

"Some users are reporting bX errors when attempting to post comments. Our team is investigating the issue and will follow-up here as soon as we have more information."

Sorry for the roll call, in that case. That's why there's a test message in the comments from me. Sic-un read and couldn't post a comment! Kept whipping him to login to google.
So that's what's going on.

Good evening! Or, 8 Talking Points

...and I say Good Evening because it IS still evening. 11:38 by this little clock in the corner. When I notice it as 12...something, I'll say Good Morning. That way, you'll know how long it takes me write and exactly how verbose I can be. I'll also be referencing 1 or 2 back posts here, just to bring you all (3? or are we down to 2?) up to speed.

First... I'd like to request a rollcall. Who's still reading? Even an 'Anon' comment will be welcome.

2. Yes, I've been 4channed. Blame it on Sic-un. He started back on /b/ and got me into /b/ (until he got the 2nd ban laid upon our widdle heads), then I turned to /ck/ and then, finally, to /fit/.
Why?
Well, back here, I posted I thought I had 1 good chance to right the wrongs I've done to my body. That still holds true. As a matter of fact, (ahem)
(drumroll?)

3. I have lost 13 pounds.
(thank you)
At least, when I'm not PMSing. I've been doing cardio (one of the Gazelles, and before you kick me for doing it, it's not a treadmill, you can do SOME different movements on it and I can do a partial squat to work the quads), stepping it up gradually, and on Tuesday last I started up Convict Conditioning, which really is a series of bodyweight lifts designed to work on form. The conditioning gradually makes itself harder, not only changing the form of the exercises but also the length and the duration. For instance, if you start out the pushups by doing wall pushups, it moves you through 1x10 reps to 3x50, and eventually through the various forms until you're doing 1 handed pushups. Here... See??

....and there's a WHOLE SERIES of these-pushups, pullups (wall pullups, then move to bar), squats, jacknife pikes, bridges... Even a headstand so you can get to handstand pushups and walkovers. So I've been doing that. And I bought a dumbbell set. And NO. It's not the girly pink little handweights sold to soccer moms. It's bars and clips and separate plates. True dumbbells. I'm driving Sic-un crazy with running out of the shower practically every morning "SEE??? I HAVE A BICEP!" "LOOK! QUAD COMING OUT!" "FEEL MY HAMSTRINGS!!!!"
And
(can we get another drumroll???)
4. I've cut out almost all the brown fizzy liquids I drank by the gallon. Well, almost by the gallon. It SEEMED like a gallon. Eight 12 ounce cans of Jones in a day, some days. On the weekends, especially. I will say I do still drink somewhere between a partial and 1 full soda most days at work. However, the full soda days are becoming few and far between. I've been trying Gatorade as a stop-gap. Water just gets so... blah? And don't tell me 'Put a flavor pouch in it!'... They all have aspartame which gives me raging headaches. And any of the vitamin waters are  nutritional nightmares. So I've been limiting my sodas to (average) fewer than 1 per day, my water drinking has gone up astronomically and I've been filling the rest in with juices and iced tea.

5. I've dropped a size in my jeans... Did I mention that?...hmmmm.... NO! You didn't hear about my whirlwind shopping venture. I took Sosu with me and I think I kinda scared him. I literally walked through the aisles picking things seemingly at random in a hurry (almost at a dead run) through the stores. It wasn't random. I got a full new wardrobe of GREAT clothes (and went back and picked up the pair of slides and another pair of trousers for work) and I HAVE dropped a size in my jeans. So I picked up a few pair. I've been sticking pretty much with 2 of the 4 I bought because...well, the other 2 pair are just a TAD snug (shows what happens when you assume a size), but I'm looking at it as "I don't have to go jeans shopping again WHEN I drop another size".

Hey... It's 12:06. Good morning!

6. The wild sex life isn't. As soon as I post that I really dig having 2 boyfriends plus a partner, guess who suddenly stops having sex? Yeah... No fault of anyone's, I don't think.  Sic-un keeps tweaking out his back or it's the weather or we're just tired from work. And J hasn't been over in FOREVER. You can insert a scowly face here, Dear Reader. Sosu's been busy avoiding his homelife so he's been trying to stay with friends down in his town so he can still hit school....
Can't say I blame him for the homelife avoidance. His mom has pretty much turned on him mainly because he is saying "I'm 18. I'm growing up. Please do not expect me to be the good little yes man." Only it's not quite in that manner. And I don't think his sister is helping matters any. She seems to have become quite a tattletale. Sic-un's ex wife tells Daughter to call Sic-un and report on any of Sosu's bad behavior. "He stayed out all night and said he was at your house!", things like that... I don't think Sosu quite realizes this CAN BE a safe haven, and for most infractions of any of these 'rules' he's under (from his mother), the most his Dad will do of any 'punishment' is lecture. Like last week... He called, asked if he could spend the night. "Sure." He came in, sat for about 3 minutes, then went and passed out in his room. Fine. Great. I told Sic-un "Watch, he went to a friend's house, was going to spend the night, ingested SOMETHING and now doesn't want to go home to his Mom's because she'll go ballistic." Which is what happened. His friend said "Here, have a drink!" and then when they had been drinking said "Uh, can't spend the night, kicking you out!".... Sosu was offended, which I'm proud of him for. That's a shitty thing to do to a friend, right? No lecture, a little worry.
Stuff like that. So I completely understand why he hasn't been around. He's 18. But the sex life suffers. Part of me minds, but part of me doesn't. And I don't mind because I am trying to get healthier. And I still jiggle.

7.  The reason I've gone on this big healthy kick and trying to get fit and all is because those pictures I took of myself on my birthday-no, you haven't seen them. Nobody is gonna see them until I have some muscles to show and get rid of this fucking gut of mine!-...Those pictures scared me. I was looking at my grandmother's body....

When I was 13 or so, my uncle got married and we went over for the wedding. I watched my grandmother get dressed for the rehearsal dinner, like girls do when they're young and not invited to an evening function. You sit, usually on the end of the bed or perched on the cedar chest and watch as the older woman gets ready, taking note of the process, knowing some day you'll do the same thing, perhaps for your daughter, a niece, a granddaughter: how to check pantyhose for runs, pull out the slip, make sure everything is pressed and tidy and clean and perfect and you touch the silver hairbrush set that's on the dresser, and look at the old pictures of relatives long passed as the woman going out for the evening looks in the mirror and makes sure the lipstick hasn't bled or smeared, one last pat to their hair. You've watched them get dressed and you've seen their body and you wonder if yours will be the same.

In my grandmother's case, she had a great set of legs. TERRIFIC legs. Gramma had gams. Not long legs, but terrific legs.  She was short, under 5'. And she was a large woman, but very graceful, very light on her feet. I always thought it was horrifying that having 10 kids (later found out she had 17 frigging pregnancies or something like) so thoroughly destroyed her body. She had a spherical torso, but these great legs. Very thick, very wide, very round. Round body, great legs. And I think that's how grandmothers should look, really. I don't like the idea of a grandmother being a glamorous older lady who still dresses as if she were 16. I DO like the idea of a grandmother who smiles, is full of hugs and LOOKS like they make a mean cookie. And she did. And that's all fine and dandy when you're talking about a 65 year old who IS a grandmother... It's not so fine when your're talking about a 41 year old who IS NOT EVEN a mother. That woman looks at a picture of herself and flashes back immediately to the wedding in 1983 when she watched her grandmother get ready for the rehearsal dinner.
I got scared.
I'm only 41. I shouldn't look like that. I shouldn't BE like that.
So I decided to change. I'd like to be rid of the round by Xmas. I've already started redeveloping my waist (I HAVE A WAIST!!!). Everything else will follow in due time. And by Xmas should be good.



So that's what I've been up to and doing. Just work and working out and trying to not go crazy insane with PMS and keep my protein levels up and hoping things will maybe be a bit better, soon.

Surprise recipe!  Darkneuro's Brotein Cherry Shake (yes, it contains protein powder...it's my post workout or not so bad for you shake when you want something sweetish)
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 to 1 cup milk/almond milk/soymilk
1/4 to 1/2 cup frozen dark cherries (I use Kroger's Private Selection...they're yummy!)
1 scoop vanilla protein powder (I use Jay Robb whey protein-it's not bad. Still kinda...chemical? But not bad.)
Sweetener of your choice to taste (I've used sugar and some stevia... both work well. Honey is a bit of a different flavor)
Blend it all up with some ice for texture. Brotein shake :)
G'night my loves. Roll call, remember. I'd like to know if anyone still pops in.

Tsunami...

I've felt like just weeping for Japan since Friday. Such devastation. And then add in the nuke threat and it just... It's a damn cryin' shame. I know there's people out there cheering because it means Japan now needs US assist (well, actually, they're getting assist more from Russia at this point) and it could mean, somehow and some way, more money for the US pocketbook...somehow. I don't understand the logic they use, I really don't.
What I see is a country, a beautiful and ancient country, devastated by the Earth.
I'm reminded of Ellison, his short-short, Ecoawareness, in which the Earth wakes up.
So I weep for Japan and I hope for the best. I'm expecting the worst, but I'm hoping, hoping for the best. I expect to be pleasantly surprised this time.

Hello, 41!

I turned 41 last week. Last Thursday. And today is the last day of a 4 day weekend, to boot. Some good things happened. Some bad things happened. I had quite a few dirty thoughts...didn't act on a single one of them, more's the pity. That's OK though.

I used to view birthdays with trepidation. Not at the thought of growing older, since the body grows old, but the mind doesn't, the ideas don't, so it's not the 'age' thing that bothers me. Some of the age-isms bother me. Some so-called 'milestone' birthdays are meant to be enjoyable and/or feared. The first birthday, the 10th (double digits!), 16th, 18th, 21st. Those are all supposed to be enjoyable. The others, the decades or the '9' birthdays are supposed to be feared. They've even got black candles and armbands and you're supposed to throw a party to celebrate the death of your youth or some such garbage.  I've never found the 9s or the decades particularly fearsome, personally.  No, I used to view birthdays with trepidation because it always came down to 'Will anyone notice or even care?'

My mother actually forgot my birthday one year. She thought it was still a week away, and I suppose it could be blamed on not looking carefully at the calendar. But I never had birthday parties growing up. The neighborhood kids came over for my 1st birthday (I've seen pictures). And growing up in Albuquerque, the neighbors came over for the obligatory cake and icecream. I'd go to parties, but wouldn't have them. And eventually, the question of whether or not anyone noticed became a moot thing.

Since I'm the center of my own universe, I noticed and that was what mattered. I started requesting the day off work, since I really didn't want to work on my birthday. When I was dating Idiot, we'd go out to eat on my birthday, and I'd end up paying*. Eventually, I started buying myself gifts or taking myself to lunch or dinner. Henry Rollins tickets became a big birthday purchase for me. Once with Idiot and once on my birthday by myself, then once here with Sic-un. Sic-un and I went to the circus, too. I took Toaster to dinner on my birthday before I left Albuquerque. It was a good dinner. 

This year, I took the day off work. Didn't sleep in, no, not this insomniac. I was up at 8:15 or so. Sent Sic-un off to work. Lazed about, went to the store, made a Meyer lemon meringue pie. Yes, lemon meringue pie. It's become my own little tradition.  I don't like birthday cake. Cake and ice cream together has always been a bit of a 'meh'. The frosting is always suspect, and ice cream is what it is. Neither ends up being very good. So I started making lemon meringue. This time it was Meyer lemons. I'm thrilled the local grocery is carrying them. And it's for the same price as their loose lemons.

The meringue came out as the thickest, foamiest, firmest I've ever made. I really like the way it turned out. I stuck my finger in it to check texture and it was like touching shaving cream. That thick, rich, pure foam consistency. I also boiled the lemon filling longer than the single minute all the recipes call for. I must have gone 3 or 4 minutes boiling. It's not that it hurt it or anything (constant stirring, good heat management), but I will say the pie is NOT weepy at all. There's a definite difference in the filling. All I can do is point at the boil time and remember it for next time (thicker filling=longer boil time)

Once the pie was out of the oven, then it was into the shower to get ready for dinner. Sic-un took me to Big Ed's for pizza. 2 small pizzas, pitcher of Amber Bock. Got a parking space right out front, too, which NEVER happens. Sic-un told the waitress it was my birthday. They don't sing to you (thank the GODS OF SINGING!)... They give you a t-shirt instead. We came home. Friday, Sic-un had the day off. We ended up cleaning a lot of stuff. The weather has thrown Sic-un's back for a loop again. The bathroom ceiling is no longer brown! The house smells good! Looks good! CLEAN!

Why the cleaning jag?
(ahem)
We had a cookout. Saturday. Yesterday. Yes. Yesterday. Invited friends over. We had people over for dinner. Yeah. We had a cookout. If you want, consider it one of Hyacinth's candlelight suppers without candles and a cookout instead.  J2-who's not as free-range as he may think, Grasshopper, J, someone new from work-Let's call her Harmony, my Japanese shark. Burgers! Potato salad! We'll provide beer, vodka, sweet tea, juices and lemonade. BYOB if you want something diff.

I was hoping Harmony would show up. She's... She's Harmony. One of the few women I would give my eyeteeth to go to bed with. She's HAWT. She didn't. J2 showed up...with his ex in tow. He calls her his ex, they are no longer living together, he wants Grasshopper... His ex is SCARY. She's seriously mental. And she doesn't think they're so very broken up. Grasshopper showed up. We had burgers.

I was drunk.

Seriously, totally wasted drunk. On not very much, actually. I started drinking around 4. Had a vodka lemonade. Had vodka lemonade #2 starting about 5ish. Was plastered by the end of the drink, which was somewhere around 6. Seriously plastered.
And here's how fucking mental J2's ex is.
I was sitting at the coffee table eating pie-it was delicious, and trying very hard to concentrate on the pie. I was drunk, recognized I was drunk, and I wanted pie. My head got hot, I started deep breathing (not nauseous. NOT NAUSEOUS, really. just hot-head), put my head down on the table (it was cool).
J2's ex started talking about getting sick and being sick and throwing up. Even after being told to stop.
Needless to say: I spent the rest of the party in the bathroom puking out that loverly hamburger and what pie I had managed to swallow.
I think she did it because she enjoyed it.

Now. Onto my presents to myself. I did myself a huge favor on Thursday and took 3 pictures of myself. All fully nude, one each forward, side and back shots. As a result, Tai chi starts next Saturday. And I may be getting a gym membership. I'm certainly going to be eating better (more veggies, less soda, more evenly spaced meals rather than 1 meal a day). I have done myself a great disservice and mean to rectify it. I think I have one more chance to see what I can do. I'm giving myself a year. With regular check-ins to make sure my body is doing what I want it to. At the end of a year, I promise I'll post the starting photos and the results.

And once I get relatively thinned out, I'm going to jump J2. Not as a boyfriend, but as just a guy I wanna fuck. And I'm gonna see about getting Harmony nekkid, too. I wanna see what I can do to make her scream.

Onto the age-isms next.
NO, I'm not on my 12th anniversary of being 29. I'm 41. FORTY ONE. I don't feel bad. I'm obese, but that's my own damn fault. I do not need nor want wrinkle cream, a face lift or liposuction***. I do dye my hair, but that's because the grey I do have makes it look dirty even when it's freshly washed. I am not pining for my lost youth, and quite frankly, from 25 to 35 was spent in my own little depressive hell. I wouldn't go back to that time FOR ALL THE MONEY IN THE NATIONAL TREASURY. I'm smarter now than I used to be. I don't want or need your stupid cholesterol medication**. I don't have kids, so I'm not looking at them graduating school. I don't have grandkids, so I don't have to babysit. My bowels are regular and my laundry is doing fine. I don't want OR need your stupid marketing. And if someone tells me I'm one day closer to dying...YES! So are you, dear sir and/or madam!

Life is fatal. The act of being born means you will die. The shell gets old, but the mind doesn't. I'm having more unadulterated FUN now than I have before in my life. I have a wonderful, loving partner that I plan on spending the rest of my life with. I have 2 (count 'em!) boyfriends I care deeply about. I have a bestie, and I have GOOD friends. I'm happy and horny and relatively healthy- in spite of the obesity: my blood pressure is fine, I'm not diabetic, and I haven't had a heart attack. The aches and pains aren't debilitating, and I'm looking at getting better.

I think this is going to be a good year.


*His excuse was that I made more money than he did, so he'd drive to the restaurant, I could pay for the meal. He would suggest renting a movie and we'd end up doing nothing but sitting on the couch all night. NOT the most exciting of times, but I was locked into a depression. I had no clue. And nobody pointed out the wrongness of this.
**I actually heard a commercial for one of the 'statin' drugs that doctors are handing out like candy and I paid attention. They said in their little disclaimers that it HELPS you keep your cholesterol down when diet and exercise aren't enough. They, of course, mean when you don't watch your diet and you don't really exercise. I say this because if I'm exercising the way I'm supposed to and I'm eating the healthiest I can eat, I won't NEED your stupid medication.
***Liposuction: "Let me cut into you and suck out fat and blood vessels." Everyone I've ever seen who has had liposuction OR who has had the belly band INSTEAD of losing the weight naturally looks like a weird bobblehead.

LIIT at a birthday...

J2 (the newly free-range J2) had a birthday this weekend. A bunch went to the Urban Bar & Corner Cafe in Knoxpatch. I was invited (!), as was Sic-un. It always surprises me when people want to Hang Out. One of the bunch is a new friend...Let's call her Grasshopper. She is rather like a grasshopper, bouncy and smart. She is a smidge naive, and just got out of a rather toxic relationship, same as J2. J2 wants the Grasshopper. Grasshopper (rightly so, IMO) has put the kybosh on any relationship status change right now. She wants to enjoy being single. She wants to get some ya-yas in. I can SO understand this, and applaud her for saying 'I want!'. Apparently, the douche she just broke up with went so far as to tell her she couldn't buy a dildo...After all, wouldn't she just prefer the dildo to him? He is a douche and she is better off. And I'm glad I know her. She's fun!
So who are these people?
I went with J2 and J-they're roommates. You know J... J of the pretty dick? One of the boyfriends. And that's how I'm referring to the people that I sleep with outside of my relationship with Sic-un, who is my Partner. Sos-u is a boyfriend. J is a boyfriend.
So we 3 went to pick up Grasshopper. J was the designated driver, J2 was planning on getting drunk as was Grasshopper. I was planning on Going Out, like normal people do. I tend to get very insular and be a home-body. Hence the surprise when people want to Hang Out. Dressed up.
Yes...I dressed up.
Black knee boots, leggings, pullover long-sleeve teal shirt, black cardigan... I looked good. Hair.. Um, I recently cut my hair. It's back to being short. And apparently I did a really good job. People keep complimenting me on it, so I think it looks ok. I did notice a ton of grey in it when I was cutting it, so I did a color to it. Still dark honey blond (well, maybe a medium honey blond), but no longer grey through it.
And makeup. Hair was spiked up.
So I looked good, and Sic-un had given me carte blanche for the evening. Didn't do a whole hell of a lot of good, since my period was this weekend (but it means it's NOT going to be here NEXT* weekend!), but I flirted and had a good time. People seem to like me and it always stuns me. It really does. I smoked way too much and drank 7 Long Island Ice Teas (LIIT). I have also vowed to never again wear high heels while drunk.
Why? You ask.....
You would ask, Dear Reader.
When I drink, my knees have a tendency to lose functionality on stairs.
Mostly on stairs.
And there are a lot of stairs at Urban.
So my knees are bruised and scraped.
And, sad to say, somewhere along the line, my right toe was dislocated.
See?--->
I think I have it snicked back into place, and I have it taped up and I'm going to be wearing hard-soled clogs for the next few days (stiff soles. Works wonders). It hurts, but...
I had a good time. I hope to continue being social.

Now. NEXT weekend...
Thursday I turn 41 by the calendar. I'll still be about 8 in my head, but the calendar says I'm going to be 41. I'm planning on making a lemon meringue pie and that's it. That's all I have planned, except for hitting Big Ed's Pizza for dinner-you get a free tshirt on your birthday. I don't have to work, nor on Friday, and Sic-un is taking Friday off. We're both off Saturday and Sunday.
Saturday morning, the local Tai Chi Society is holding an Open House. And! And!
They have a class starting on March 5 that I can actually attend! At hours that aren't too horrendous! It's the reason why I haven't taken a Tai Chi class before. I was thrilled to learn the Tai Chi Center is right there when I moved to this loverly little town. However, all the class times for Beginner were at times when I was at work. Why Tai Chi? With the change of the calendar comes the realization that I have one more chance to get somewhat mobile. I say one more chance because I have started noting stupid little aches and pains that just weren't there before. I can't help but think a good stretch will help wonders. Some activity. And Tai Chi is supposed to be absolutely wonderful for balance and flexibility. Sic-un is going with me, at least to the open house, and he's remaining open minded about the class.
I'm not hoping for a miracle cure for his back, but I'm hoping for some pain easing for him.

Sos-u.Worth the wait. Definitely worth the wait. Definitely. Stunning kisser, good hands. He's cuddly. Puppy-pile this weekend. I drunk-texted him from the bar, he said he'd be asleep on the couch. Ended up puppy-piling. He's cuddly.

And what do I call him? Friends with benefits doesn't quite fit the situation, with him being my partner's son. Hence the realization last night that I have a Partner and I have 2 Boyfriends. I like my life right now. I'm having fun, my mind is engaged, I'm looking good, and I'm taking steps to get even better.
I'm looking forward to the next year, see what it will bring.

Egads...

First PMS, then the 'flu.

You heard me. The 'flu. YES, I went to the doctor (well, nurse practitioner) and was told I had the 'flu. I also had 4 of 5 days off last week, only 3 of them due to the flu. Last week in general sucked sewer water, frankly. Let me share...

Monday was a requested day off (yay!), then I went in Tuesday. Sic-un drove in with me since it was raining and generally pissy outside and his back was acting up and he wasn't feeling well, didn't think he was sick, but he didn't feel good. He had started out throwing up, but thought it was under control. We drove into work in Little Blue. Well, Sic-un made it a 1/2 day at work, then took my car home. On the way, he had to stop at a store. In the store parking lot, one of my shifter cables decided to give way.

Yes, the shifter cable. One of the 2 attached to the shifter, I should say. He got the car home, then had to come out and pick me up on the bike. Sick. In the rain. While telling me my car was broke. How pissed was I, you may ask. Well, I snapped at J, snapped at J2 as well (ooooh! J2 and gf are kaput. He's free range. Shall I add him to the stable or attempt to? Discuss.). Rode home. Can't really holler at Sic-un. He was sick. Thank the fates the GBN (Good-ol' Boy Network) is alive and well here in the South. Sic-un had already called Jessie and said "Um, Jessie? HELP!"

Wednesday: Sic-un decided Tuesday night he was too sick to be at work Wednesday. I was OK, I thought, arranged for a ride, whatnot. I was getting ready to go and just.... Have you ever suddenly lost any and all energy, started shaking and feeling weak and feverish and just ill all at once? That's the first time for me. I called my ride (my beautiful Japanese shark!), begged off. Called in. Wednesday and Thursday kinda blurred. I napped, some. I tried to eat, some. Didn't work too good. Fever ranged from 96 to 101. No cough, some nausea and hellish body aches. Sic-un? Nausea, head swimming.  Didn't go in. Couldn't, really. I'd get up and start moving and then just... Everything would suddenly run down, almost like watching a wind-up toy stop.

Friday was payday. And tax day, actually. Ended up getting $1098, $300 of which is set aside just for ConMan's Xmas this year (planning ahead!). Plus a paycheck. So I had $$ for the clinic. Sic-un went to his after dropping me off at mine (joys of insurance).
Marci, the nurse practitioner at Clinic, remembered me from my last illness. My blood pressure was STELLAR!!! Temp ok at the time, no congestion...'What are your symptoms?'. I did the laundry list. Apparently, I'm doing everything correctly, I just had an official diagnosis of Influenza.
Sic-un didn't have the 'flu. He had the 'Stomach Virus' that's being passed around the Alternate Dimension. No fever? No flu.
SO. Out of work 3 days, get to the weekend, and we start (START!) feeling better.

Saturday, I made tapioca and lemon cake. The lemon cake was defaulted because the store still had Meyer lemons, which I had bought more of after already making one cake, and then they started turning. Had to be used or frozen. So. Used. Lemon cake. Cake-y goodness.

The cake is not a lie.
I'm looking right at it. Loaf cake, Ina Garten's Lemon Cakes recipe. YUM cake.
I made tapioca because I love tapioca and it's becoming my comfort food of choice.
Sunday, Jessie came and looked at Little Blue, provided diagnosis.

I went into work today, felt a bit lost after being out for so long. The guy that sits down the aisle from me? Inspector Gadget? (no...seriously. He looks JUST LIKE Inspector Gadget. The real one, not the live action) He asked me, like, 5 times if I was feeling better. SIGH. And then I was offered about 45 minutes early out. I took it, you bet your bippy I took it. It means I sat for a bit while Sic-un finished up...He's back on his usual schedule, matching mine, which is convenient. And the car is still not fixed.

Why, you may ask... Well, the part is down in Knox proper, at the Hyundai dealer. $202.xx new. Now, I *could* go to the UPullIt and get a used cable for the vehicle for $15 or $16. For a SHIFTER cable. In a place that gets rain and snow and weather and they use salt on the road and corrosion happens.... That's like saying you're going to buy a used condom. It just doesn't make sense. So we placed it on hold and Sic-un is picking it up Friday after he drops me at work. Then he calls Jessie and gets guided on how to fix it either Friday or Saturday. I'm also going to see if maybe my timing belt can get replaced at the same time. It's got 79K on it. Needs it.

SO. No car. Riding the bike. Was just sick. Have to dress up for work this ENTIRE WEEK (well, except for Friday. Casual Friday), which means real slacks instead of jeans. Jeans are much better on the bike, thicker. BUT!
I am a good prairie dog in the cube farm. So I will wear my slacks, and look forward to....

Boots. How was that for a segue? BOOTS. I have ordered 2 pairs of boots, waiting with anticipation for sometime Friday when they should be delivered. I have a black pair (rather piratical if I do say so myself) and a red pair on the way. Yes, red. I'm such a hussy. And they're both heels. I can't wait. I love wearing heels now. Couldn't, for so very long, and now I can. Sic-un LIKES it when I wear heels...
Baby needs a new pair of shoes....
And hopefully, I'll still have some scratch left to go on the hunt for clothes with my Shark... She'll tell me the truth if something looks bad. I should have $ left. I left $700 in the standard account to play with, $200 now gone for the cables (gotta buy 2 because they're ONLY as an assembly), should leave me $500, now $100 gone on boots.
yeah, $100 with both pairs and tax and shipping. But still. Boots. And I measured my gargantuan calves, so they should fit really really nice. The black ones, that is. They've got a max circum. of 19 inches on the shaft, and mine, at its widest point, is 16 1/2. Add in a couple inches for ease and
They should fit.
Here's to boots and Little Blue. I want him on the road again. But that still leaves $400 or so, and another paycheck between now and shopping, I think...no. One right after? Sometime like. Oh well. I need new clothes. I'm fully justified in purchasing new shoes and clothes. Shoes are an ongoing issue-my newest pair before my red mary janes in November were my high clogs and they were 2 years ago, then... Tennies before that, before I left NM, and that was right after I bought the wedge penny loafers. SO. Out of the last 4 pairs I've bought, 1/2 of them were before I moved here to East TN. And I JUST started wearing the high clogs I had purchased about 10 years ago, BEFORE, when I was still living with Idiot and still worried about how large I'd appear next to his diminutive height....Gads! I'm glad I really do like tall men and he was just an aberration!

note to self-buy condoms.out of condoms, need to buy condoms....Sosu is now 18....Hm. And 6'2"... I'll post pictures from this weekend. Yes... (evil grin) He's now 18. I can post his picture (insert smile here)

Pardon My Suckerpunch...

...I feel an episode of nastiness coming on. Now, now... Don't all you loverly pervy people get your panties into a twist thinking of me being nasty. Not in the good way.

In the 'I'm could potentially be called crazy and will probably piss a lot of people off' kind of way. Take the above initials, please.
TAKE THEM.

No, please. I don't want them any more. Been trying to figure how to get rid of them for years.  The answer always becomes the same thing. "Take this wonder (pill, tea, herbal supplement, lotion)!" Then you get side effects. And it's never quite right. You're always zombified. And yeah, I could take The Pill, I suppose, but..(stolen from Wikipedia, of course).

Combined oral contraceptives may influence coagulation, increasing the risk of deep venous thrombosis (DVT) and pulmonary embolism, stroke and myocardial infarction (heart attack). Combined oral contraceptives are generally accepted to be contraindicated in women with pre-existing cardiovascular disease, in women who have a familial tendency to form blood clots (such as familial factor V Leiden), women with severe obesity and/or hypercholesterolemia (high cholesterol level), and in smokers over age 40.

Something just seems a little too... It hits home too closely.  Severe obesity? No....according to the BMI, moderate. Smoker, though. And 40+, and yeah...my familial roots are littered with broken hearts and busted brains. Not a really good candidate to take the one thing that would probably make my PMS a lot easier to deal with.

I think what bothers me is that I can feel it coming on, and have to actively work to keep my mouth from running away with me. I'm having to actively remove myself from the presence of people whom might annoy me... Just in case I have an episode. I kinda forewarned Sic-un this morning. If I actively stay on guard for it, then I can at least say I tried really hard to not be an utter cunt to the entire planet.

And not the Good Kind, either. Bitchy comments pour forth, and once it starts, it just keeps going and going and going... It's worse than the bunny, I tell you. Sex doesn't particularly help, either. If anything, it ends up pissing me off...My body's reactions piss me off. The risk of leg cramps during PMS rises, and I haven't figured that one out... Unless it's all just hormone related and fucked until menopause...
Although it's getting worse as I get older.
Yes, I could go see a doctor. What's the doctor going to say? "Oh, you have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Here. Take the pil...oh wait. You can't. Here. Take this anti-depressant. It'll make it all better." Or worse: "I'm sorry, you're all fucked up down there, we'll have to take the whole works and you better hope like hell you don't die." As I see it, the only thing that can be done about PMS is just quit whining and try and work within the boundaries it gives you.

It's just PMS. I can do this.
Pardon my lip if I get snippy.

Ohmy. Well, Happy New Year to you too!

Good morning!
I've had 3 hours sleep and I feel SPLENDID!
I was laid last night. Fucked. Messed up.
And due to the alcohol involved on their part(s), I'm the only one who came.

Oh, that's ni-
Wait. What?

J came up. LIIT* premixed in a ginormous bottle. I had been drinking already. I was cooking.
Pork chops.
Brined pork chops, braised with gravy, served with mashed and gravy and salad.
Gravy was good.
J has been saying for WEEKS (really!) he'll be coming up. He hasn't been up.
Let's rewind, shall we? J's ex spouse had a bun in the oven and it was indeterminate if it was J's baby or belonged to this other guy. Divorce waited until bun in oven was done so DNA tests could say whose it was. Make it a part of the divorce and all that, you know? "We have a paternity question, let's separate and see what we get on DNA, that way the divorce can have custody determination as well", basically. Child was born, paternity determined...
Not J's. But J has an incredibly busy life, working until 1 a.m., D&D and friends and well, a life.
So when he says "I'm planning on coming up this weekend", it's always with the unspoken "Unless" attached to it. D&D trumps hanging out, I'm told. I'm cool with this, but it means every statement of 'I'm coming up this weekend' is a 'wait and see, but don't hold your breath' type thing...When there has been a day off of D&D, a game always gets started by others in the group, you see. D&D trumps.

So when J called, he was invited to dinner.
Brined pork chops, braised with gravy, served with mashed and gravy and salad.
He brought the LIIT, I continued drinking.
Sic-un started drinking.
Switch was over and was drinking.
Things get a little blurry with my 2nd vodka-and. First it was vodka and punch, then when the punch went away, it was vodka and pepsi (sugar pepsi!!). Then LIIT.
I was well and truly lit. And things are a little blurry.
I pulled out the camera and took blurry pictures of everyone. No, you won't see them here. I don't have Photoshop to protect people's identities yet :D

Then things got blurry. It became 'Turn Darkneuro on' time. Random fondles from everyone.
I like random fondles. I wanted to sit on a lap somewhere, but honestly?
--One of my resolutions this year is to actually eat better and lose some of this weight.  I have taken off some in the size department (my size 20 jeans should REALLY be size 18, and all my work pants? Yeah, they're 20s too and should be 18s), but I don't have a scale and therefore can't tell you numbers.--
But I don't feel good about my body. I don't like my size and think of myself as larger than what I am. When the subject of sitting on someone's lap comes up, I tend to decline doing so. I'm heavy and don't want to crush or stop someone's circulation or anything like that. Even if they say it's good and they can do it and want to, it still makes me very conscious of my size, which puts a damper on everything.
So I declined to sit on anyone's lap.

Sic-un took my clothes off in the living room. Apparently, it took about 20 minutes to get my sweatpants off. Not due to anything like I was passed out or anything, but I didn't want to take my pants off, not right then. We had determined there was one condom in the house. Sic-un and I play pull-out, and I trust him with it. Switch? J? Condoms are necessary. Everyone is good with that, it's expected.
Due to the amount of alcohol ingested, Sic-un was kinda out for the evening for play-time. But wait! There's 2 other males in the house! That produced wood all around.
Switch and J and Sic-un discussed who would have me with the 1 condom.
Switch.
I missed him. He hasn't been in bed with me lately, he had a girlfriend he made a promise with. I allowed him that promise. Bed buddies should be just that, with either side ready and waiting to say "OK, you need this/that/the other thing? OK." He needed that promise, so OK. But I did miss him, my body missed him, and I told him so. I don't like not touching, not touching him. I like that freedom.
He was drinking, though. So where I had at least 7 orgasms (Sic-un kept count in the living room-I gave up counting a long time ago), he didn't have any, and he was ok with that. But we stopped after a bit and some cuddle time (I like pillowtalk with Switch. He's fresh). Went out to the living room.

I wanted liquid and a smoke and some time out.
Then J.
Yumyum.
He was too far gone to come himself, let me know pretty much right away. Such a pretty dick. Loved on that for a bit. Tonsils got pummeled. In the meantime, he's fondling me, fingering me, getting me off left and right. Then I moved between his thighs for an extended session. Sat on my heel. Every now and again, grind-grind and POW! There's another orgasm for Darkneuro.
Then liquid and a smoke and some time out once it was determined that since there was no further gifts from the condom fairy to be had and he couldn't plunder me.

Then Sic-un.
He gets so very turned on when I have others inside me. So very turned on. But the alcohol played against him. Me? BangAwaySally! Him? He was hurt when he realized I couldn't make him come. On my behalf.

He was hurting for me, wanted me to be completely and utterly pleased with the night and the burgeoning morning, wanted me completely satisfied, and because he thought I wasn't (but I was!), he hurt on my behalf.
Is it any wonder I love this man completely and utterly?

By then, it was about 6.
A.M.
Sic-un went to bed about 7. I went about 7:30. J left the house about 7:15. Switch dozed on the couch until I got up at 11 and told him to go to bed for a bit.
I have bruises on my arms (bite mark on 1, finger prints on the other), some red marks on my neck. My knees are sore, but that's because I crawled when I couldn't muster the balance to walk.
And I have been well and truly messed up.

Happy New Year!

I do have to say that this next image probably more accurately describes the year I'll have.....

See you on the flipside, people.


* Long Island Iced Tea-1 part each vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, sour mix, splash coke (although we DID use TEA-sweet tea. Sic-un made it. YUM!)