Oh, The Nerves of Some People!

That s is supposed to be there in the word nerves. I am talking about my own nerves, which are so on edge I feel like at this very moment they may pop through my skin and start attacking others. You see, I am applying for a new job today. And it's not just any old job.

For my entire history in state service I have always taken any job I could get that would be a promotion. I took the job I currently have because it is in the agency I want to work in. It's the agency my educational background is in, and it is a place I have a lot of passion for. However, I took my current job just to get my foot in the door. I do not have any passion for the job I currently have, and sometimes it's all I can do just to get dressed and get here every day.

On Thursday I saw a job announcement for our Nutrition Services Divsion. Childhood nutrition is something I feel extremely passionate about. The way I see most people feeding their children, and the food offered in most schools, makes me gaggy. This job would be in monitoring the current nutrition programs in place in our state. But more importantly, it is a secondary level management position where I could start on what my ultimate goal is, which is writing and appealing to legislation about the way our food programs in schools are currently run.

This is the first time I have applied for a job in my life, where not getting it would crush me. I redid my resume, went over my application with a fine-toothed comb, and even did a cover letter, which is not regular protocol when applying for state service. The thing is: I need these people to know that not only do I qualify for this position, but I would be the best damn person this position has ever seen. I full believe that.

I have been applying for jobs for over six months. All the jobs I have been applying for have been promotional save a few lateral ones. All of the laterals I would have accepted were in nutrition services. But here's the other thing about this job: it would mean a pay raise of 1000 dollars a month take home. If I were to get it I would never have to worry about money again.

The application is sitting on my desk in an inter-agency envelope. The deadline is February 8th so I plan on hand delivering it tomorrow. You see, I probably have to look it over about 100 more times before I can let it leave my hands. I have had people review all of my paperwork and give me help on more effective wording and so on. I have been so panicky just writing this out makes me want to puke. I don't just want this job, this would be my actual dream job. All of the years in state service toiling over things I did which I had no passion for, would be behind me. I could have a job that pays well, with great benefits, and a fabulous retirement, THAT I ALSO LOVE. This is huge. And I'm not handling it very well.

I know if I can just get the interview, and they don't have a definite front-runner already in the Division that they want to hire, the job is mine. I am personable, and I know the extent to which I want this job will show in my face and in my words, and they won't be able to help but hire me. I'm that confident. At the same time, I know my anxiety issues. I know that no matter how familiar I am with an interview question, I tend to trip over my words and sound like an idiot at times. I sometimes leave an interview then just say out loud the exact answer I should've given while sitting in front of that panel. But I also know having sat on interview panels, that personality generally pushes someone past other folks who may have more experience or may answer questions like the answers were built in to their very being. I am counting on that.

So I'm asking everyone to keep me in your positive thoughts. This job would pull so many layers of my daily worries and strife back. It would allow me to be completely financially stable. It would allow me to pay off all of my debt. It would allow me to get up in the morning and smile as I am getting ready for work, rather than scowl. It would allow me to be a more pleasant person to my boyfriends and friends, who would have to listen to far less complaining about how not satisfying I feel in my work life. It would mean the world to me. I am going to get this job dammit. And my red stapler is coming with me!

Happy picture of the day: my red Swingline. He is a stately fellow, and he deserves to be in a better office.

I'm Gonna Talk About Authenticity. Go Ahead And Barf Now.

I know how many people are tired of hearing folks talk about being your "authentic" self. But much like people getting sick of the bullying talks, I think the topic always has, and always will have, merit. I used to have a sticker on my car that said, "It is better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you are not." Now, I hate lofty bumper sticker quotes as much as the next person, but that statement rings more true to me than almost any quote I've ever heard.

The vast majority of people I have come across in life are people pleasers. They live in fear that if they say what they really think, or dress how they really feel comfortable dressing, the repercussions will be great. I argue that if you do things to please others, to the detriment of being yourself, the repercussions are far greater.

I used to live a life where I hid my true self. I acted dumber, I acted calmer, I acted like what the normal kids were doing interested me, I toned down my sense of humor so I wasn't funnier than anyone else, and I did many other things that led me to a life where I was always ashamed. That shame caused me to do many self destructive things.

I am not saying all people who hide who they really are go in to a shame spiral, but you can totally tell who they are when you go out because they seem a little less sure of themselves. They nervously laugh only after everyone else has started laughing so they have the okay that, "Yes, that was really funny." They hold themselves awkwardly and rarely make eye contact. I feel really sorry for them. Some people go through their whole lives like that.

I have completely stopped spending time with any and all people pleasers because they are the ones that will turn on you in a heartbeat. They will listen if someone else tells them they should think a certain way about a religion, a food product, a person, or a store. They don't have the strength to think for themselves. They are totally swayable about the latest fad and are the first ones to have teased you for black nail polish in high school, but then spend 20 dollars on a high end black nail polish 'cause they saw an actor wear it.

My mom is a people pleaser. I spent my whole life with a woman who would shush me in public because "people could hear me." I never understood because those people didn't know us, and we would probably never see them again, so who the hell cared what they thought? This from the same woman who didn't care if someone in the family felt they were slighted. But slight a perfect stranger? She wouldn't DREAM of it. It made me learn that looking perfect on the outside didn't matter. Trying to be good to the ones you loved did, and it doesn't really matter if everyone else thinks you're a goddamned loon. Sadly, it didn't make me learn it right off the bat. It had been engrained in my being and I wasn't able to shed it until I was in my 30s. I was always the "weird" kid, but I was still the people pleaser in high school in college, even though in secret I was getting in fights and doing tons of drugs and other stuff I shouldn't have been.

Right now I am mentoring a young girl. A girl who has anxiety so bad she pulls out her eyebrows and eyelashes. She has to leave school at least once a week because something will freak her out so badly she can't function. I remember being there. I invited her mother and her over so I could say, "It may not look like much, but this is my home and I have a good job. I came out the other side and even though I still struggle, you can do whatever the hell you want. Don't let anyone tell you different." There is only so much help a counselor can give you. Someone who has been there can help so much more.

If there's one thing I have to say to anyone out there who worries what people think of you I would say this: do whatever you need to do to be able to wake up every morning and look in the mirror and say, "Today I'm going to do the best I can. If I do something I'm ashamed of I'll ponder on it and fix it. If I do something other people are ashamed of that I'm not, they can totally suck it!" What? You didn't think this was going to be all serious and inspirational did you? That would most certainly not be authentic Melanie. :)

Happy picture of the day: When Molly pokes her head through the blinds and stares out the window for hours I dub her "emo cat."

Because I'm Evil

Sometimes my sense of humor borders on the absurd. Sometimes I do things simply because I know it'll make someone uncomfortable, but not in a really bad way. Sometimes I will purposely do things because I know someone is being disingenuous. Sometimes I don't care if anyone else thinks something I do is amusing, as long as I find it amusing. This is going to be one of the most random all over the place posts you'll ever read, because that's how my brain is working today. You are welcome.

The other day at work a man who I always see in the hallways asked, "How are you doing?" Now, I don't know why I hate this practice but I do. 99.9% of the time when someone asks this question they just want you to lie and say, "Fine." I have stopped doing that. I think someone should just say, "Good morning" if they don't honestly want to know how you are doing. So on this day I led off with a, "Well, I haven't been feeling all that well. Then on top of that my job is a little more than tiresome. Also, my mortgage just jumped up a substantial amount. So I'm fair to middlin' I expect." Yes, I talk like someone from the 1800s from time to time. The look on his face the whole time I was talking was PRICELESS. It was shock combined with, "Oh shit! How long is this bitch gonna babble?" Note to everyone: if you don't want to know how someone is doing, don't ask.

I don't try and create enemies amongst my friends. There are plenty of people my friends like, who I do not. I always bite my tongue and act kindly when the people I don't care for are brought up. But I sometimes get a sick sort of satisfaction when the person I don't like shows their true colors and someone says, "Oh god, you were right. That person is a douche canoe." If I don't like someone I am very honest about it. I will say, "Yeah, there is just something about them that leads me to believe I should avoid them. So I do" then I leave it at that. I know that evil people will always be their own undoing.

I am still shocked that there are people who blame why their life is shit on their upbringing. I really loathe excuses. And as I've said before, even though I sometimes feel evil for doing so, "There is always someone out there who has been through way more than you have, and achieved far greater." Stop whining and be a better person if you want to be. If you're content being a loser, that's awesome too. It seems like there are an awful lot of folks out there content to be totally mediocre. You're in great company. Okay, not great, but you're in a lot of company. Like, I don't mean to sound paranoid, but you are literally SURROUNDED by people just like you.

There is a woman at work who is constantly head down, texting down the hallway, going in to the bathroom. She takes the phone in the stall with her while continuing to text and sometimes calls people. I have dubbed her "fecal phone" and the name is catching on. Do I feel guilty that someone at work is now known as "fecal phone" thanks to me? Barely. I moreso wish people would stop doing that. I will never shake her hand, nor will I eat anything she's ever brought in to the office or a potluck. If I want to eat shitty food I'll go to Applebee's. Bad pun...sue me.

My new housemate came home after I had already gone to bed last night. When I woke up there was 200 bucks on the coffee table. He texted me at 10 a.m. "I see you got the money. I'm headed to Santa Cruz tonight so I'll see you tomorrow." He is my favorite kind of roomie: totally invisible one who leaves me money. I think I can get used to this.

Happy picture of the day: I have this Breakfast at Tiffany's doll. I actually have another one of her in a pink dress too. It's nice to know if I am ever really desperate, I can sell these on eBay for 100 bucks. That will never happen, but it's nice to know anyways.

Things About Blogging That Make Me Uncomfortable

And by uncomfortable I mean they make me laugh most of the time because they are so ridiculous:

It is quite obvious that a lot of bloggers treat the blogging world like junior high. They want to be the most read, or the cool kid, or feel like they fit in or that people really, REALLY like them. I don't get it. Most of us are grown adults. Yes, writing to get feedback and make a difference is awesome. But getting upset because someone doesn't read or like your blog is ridiculous.

I comment VERY rarely on blogs. I only comment if I have something to say, and even then since I have to do so from my iPhone I keep it very brief. I try to respond to all comments on my blog because I think that's important. I want to let people know that I hear them and I appreciate them taking the time to comment. I have had some people stop reading because I don't comment on their blog. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

If you don't like a blog it's really simple: don't fucking read it. Don't try and turn other people against it. That's like being the bully in school who tries to get everyone to hate a kid, and it is childish.

Everyone writes blogs for a different reason. A lot of folks are writers trying to perfect their craft. Some are just trying to make people laugh. Others want to help people out. Mine is kind of like a cathartic place to get things out, but if I can make someone laugh or help someone out in the process that is an amazing added bonus. We should respect all of the different reasons people write out their ideas and stories on the internet.

No one should feel obligated to read 100 blogs a day. We all have lives. I follow VERY few blogs and I check out a few others every so often, because I like what the people have to say. If I don't follow your blog it doesn't mean I don't like it. It just means I try to really keep my computer time to a minimum. A ton of them are blocked at work, and I really try and stay off of the computer at home. Overthinking why someone does or doesn't read your blog will just drive you crazy. So cut it out.

A huge thanks out there to all of the wonderful people I have met from this crazy internet world. I love you all to bits. And to everyone worrying who's reading or what people think, relax. This is supposed to be fun. If it's not fun, we shouldn't be doing it. There are millions of blogs out there. I have like 100 readers a day and I feel shocked and blessed to have that. The fact that anyone takes the time to read your little millimeter of the internet should be appreciated.

Happy picture of the day: my friend Jen bought this for me at Goodwill yesterday. I LOVE ridiculous things. A toaster on fire that says "Toast Flambe?" Hell yes I need that for my kitchen!

You Can Totally Call Me Dude

This post is for Dude Write. This week they've invited the ladies to join in the dude fun and write a post, or send an old post, to be voted on. I chose to write how I sometimes can be sort of dude-like. Go on over and check out all of the entries by the awesome ladies participating.

If there is one thing in life I've always been painfully and acutely aware of, it's that I'm not like any sort of stereotype of what a woman is supposed to be like. I rarely wear make up, I own two pairs of high heels, I can probably kick your ass, I cuss like a sailor, and I never wanted to get married or have kids.

When I first started mentioning to people that I didn't want children, I was around 12 years old. It's the year I also decided I wasn't going to church anymore. I was kind of in a "challenging everything" space in life. I threw on a Cure shirt, some creepers, and told everyone I was going to do the things that felt right to me, and eff what the world thought. People said, "Oh, you say you don't want kids now, but you'll change your mind." At age 20 I asked my doctor what I would need to do to get a tubal ligation. The answer was, "Nothing. We won't do that until you are thirty or have had children." I was angry. I replied with, "But if I come in and have ten abortions that will be cool? Far be it for me to responsibly decide I never want kids." At age 30 I went back with a smile on my face and said, "Let's tie me up!" Still no. It took until I was 37 years old for them to finally agree I was old enough to make my own reproductive decisions. I am still appalled that this happened.

All through my relationships and dating life even if I was in love with someone, it was very easy for me to detach when I needed to get away because things were unhealthy. Sure, I stayed in some relationships longer than I should've with hopes that the bad things were just a phase, but that hasn't happened in a very long time. I never had any sort of dream of that great house with the loving husband and wonderful kids. I just wanted a partner I could laugh with, have great sex with, and who made me feel appreciated. I have that now. I have it with two men. I have it with two men who have wives. One of the men has a wife and two other girlfriends. The other has just his wife and has two kids. Last night I went and watched the kids so he and his wife could have a date night. The best thing about reading is that you can pause right now to freak out if you need to. I'll allow it. I have been polyamorous about six months now, and it is the best decision I ever made, outside of choosing to remain childless.

I have an anxiety disorder that makes it very important to me to have systems and routines and stick to them. If I don't the fallout is pretty ugly and messy. This has also led to me having a lack of girly morning rituals. I can't be bothered to flat iron my hair and make sure it's perfect. I can't even imagine getting up early enough to "put my face on" every day. I see women who do that and I love them for it. I just have too much other stuff to worry about. I have to clean the kitty litter box and sweep around it. I need to make sure all the dishes from the night before are put away. I have to fold the blanket up on the couch and put it back in the closet. There are many things I do every morning and not one of them has to do with a visible beauty regimen. I cleanse, exfoliate, tone, and moisturize every day. That's my girly routine for you. I have to have soft skin. It's part of my weird OCD stuff.

I like who I am. I like that the times I do put on a dress, make sure my hair is perfect, and put on make up, it gets noticed. I like when I go out and someone is like, "Whoa, you look really pretty." Of course then the guilt comes as they say, "Not that you aren't always pretty. It's just nice to see you all dolled up." I think my favorite old timey compliment comes often from my friend Eric when he says, "You clean up real nice." So cute.

Today I am wearing Levi's, a Jawbreaker t-shirt with a long john shirt under it, and sneakers. I wore an R2D2 beanie. When given the choice, I will always choose comfort over style. I am happy that I can be myself without apology. I am glad that I can do things that society might see as deviant or weird and not really let it effect my decisions. I am surprised how many people I come across who live their lives according to the expectations of others. I really enjoy that I have enough high expectations for myself, that I don't really have time to care what people I don't know think I should be doing.

Happy picture of the day: this is me, looking rough. No make up on, sitting at work, huge zit on my chin, and totally content.

Everything Is Gonna Be Alright

The moment I typed that Bob Marley got stuck in my head. I am one of the only people on the planet who DOES NOT like Bob Marley, so that is not such a pleasant thing.

I met up with Kris last night. He's a 27 year old fella from the UK who came here to check things out because he's thinking of relocating to the states. He was staying with a friend for free, but then the friend needed to take in another friend so Kris was going to be moved to the couch for a month. Not wanting to live in someone's living room, he put a message up on Couchsurfing.com that he was looking for a place to stay until February 21st and could help out with rent. He really didn't want to go home early but that was his other option. So I will have a housemate for a month, starting Monday. This should be REALLY interesting. I do not share space well. I like my things very much just so, and I am extremely tidy. But the extra money I'm going to get from him will lift some of my stresses, so it's worth it. He seems very nice and I think we'll do just fine.

I have been mulling over taking in a full time roommate for a year. But the more I think about it, the more I know I just can't do it. I will just make it work and cut some more corners. I get my tax return next month, and that can help with the finances until I get my step raise in April. But hopefully I won't get that step raise 'cause I'll actually have a new job by then. I have been applying like mad and still not even an interview. But I'm gonna keep plugging on.

The outpouring of texts, emails, and kind comments these last few days has meant so much to me. I'm still feeling really stressed and freaked out, but it's nothing like the place I was in on Tuesday. There is a glimmer of hope starting to rise in my heart. I didn't sleep for shit last night and I'm exhausted, but at least I don't think I am going to burst in to tears every other second, so that's nice.

I meditated last night for the first time in far too long. I centered myself and when I was done I made a list of all the things I am grateful for, which is a very large list. I am not embarrassed about my freak out. I'm actually kind of proud of it. I didn't hold it in and keep it a secret. While I am very open and honest on here, because it feels safe, I am not very open when I'm vulnerable with my friends in real life. I usually just pretend I'm totally fine, and cry by myself at home. I now realize that sucks way worse than just letting it all out and getting some feedback and support.

We are not going to be able to do the blogger get together in a few months. I talked with Heather and some of the other gals and financially it's just not really an option for any of us right now. But just know, any time any of you want to come to Northern California there is a great guest room with your name on it. We could go to San Francisco for a day and run around some really cool places in Sacramento. I just can't even think about trying to save up money for a trip right now. Maybe next year. Maybe when I actually get my promotion and make enough money to not be strapped at the end of the month. Great, now Bob Marley is out of my head but I am envisioning strap-ons. Oh, my brain!

Happy picture of the day: this. Because this will always make me laugh.

And Then, I Completely Broke

These are the posts that none of us with anxiety and depression issues ever want to write. We want to avoid them and write when we're angry or feeling goofy, or when we're extremely happy. We most certainly do not want to write when we feel utterly deflated. That's why I think it's so important that I write this.

Today, I feel hopeless. I only have 20 dollars until the 31st. I just got a bill from my dentist for 117 dollars. My PG&E bill was 35 dollars more than it usually is because it's been so cold here. My mortgage payment is 150 dollars up for the next year. It feels like everything is crashing down on me. Everything people do annoys me. I am having nightmares, horrible ones, about having to take in a roommate for a year so that I am not broke all the time. Now, my logical brain knows these are first world problems. I can logically understand I am lucky to have a job and a roof over my head. But that doesn't make one damn bit of difference when I am in this space. That to me, is the hardest part.

Last night I was supposed to go to a movie premier with one of the boyfriends. He texted to ask if he should be over at 6:30. I had told him a few days ago we needed to be there at 6 as they overprint tickets. I got pissed he hadn't put it on his calendar. So I said, "You know what? I don't even want to go. I don't have time to replan everything because you don't remember the details." One of my peeves is when I make plans with someone and they don't write it down. So I told him to just come over for chili dogs and we could talk.

I am glad that I recognize that I was angry because I'm so stressed and feeling horrible. I told him he hadn't done anything wrong but that I'd really appreciate if in the future he would use his calendar to write down times and dates that we have things planned. I started crying on his shoulder about how much I need a new job, and about how I just feel like things are overwhelming right now and I don't see a bright spot in sight. I feel broken and I feel needy and this is the place where I am most uncomfortable. I usually don't show this side. I keep my brave face on. But even that mask is broken right now and I'm trying to be okay with that. I am vulnerable, and I'm not going to die if people know I'm not a machine able to overcome all obstacles at all times.

When I got home last night I had a huge gulp of Jameson. It was so good. I didn't have any more after that. I am still shocked that I am able to not get completely obliterated every time I'm upset, since that it what I used to do. I was proud of myself for a split second before I remembered that I feel terrible and some little victory like not finishing off a bottle of booze can't be celebrated just yet. It should be, but I am just unable to do so.

I texted Sean to tell him if he doesn't hear from me for a day or two it has nothing to do with him. I just really feel like going home to silence, plugging in the phone and staying away from it, and meditating and exercising. Tomorrow night I am babysitting for Charles and Jess so they can have a kid-free night. I will play Barbies with Scarlet and Mario games with Ethan. It will be nice. Right now I'm at work just struggling to stay tear free. Trying to drown myself in busy so I don't have to think about things.

I got a message on Couchsurfing that a guy from England needs a place to stay for a month. I told him if he can throw down 200 bucks to help with utilities and food he can have the guest room. It'll be like a trial to see if I can actually live with someone again, and it will be helpful. Plus, I could really use the money. I am not in any way looking forward to it. I like living alone. I like coming home to peace and quiet and putting the tv on to whatever I want to watch, throwing on my jammies, and making dinner. I like to occasionally throw the iPod on to the iHome and blast music like a teenager and sing along while I fold laundry. I am willing to give up all of these things for a little more financial security, maybe.

Lily, I love and adore you. Your email last night couldn't have come at a better time. Thanks for being you, and being amazing.

Happy picture of the day: this was the view outside of my door yesterday morning. The picture didn't capture the extreme beauty of this sunrise, but you get the idea.

My Struggle Will Never Be Over

Hi, my name is Melanie, and I have a borderline OCD anxiety disorder. For many years I drank/drugged/self abused it away in any way I could. I didn't deal with it at all. I did whatever I could to numb myself and distract myself so that I didn't have to pay any attention to it. When I was young I would worry about things most kids didn't. I took to a habit of rubbing my hands as an act of self-soothing. But I would rub so hard I would rub off layers of skin and it would hurt so bad I couldn't pick things up. I would rub my neck, my chest, my arms, and other places to give my fingers and palms of my hands a rest. I started cutting when I was in my early teens but I really hated the scarring and so I stopped that completely. The release it gave me couldn't compete with how stressed I got leaving marks on myself. After high school I went off the deep end with drugs. Ecstacy, and LSD were my favorites. Every weekend I went on a bender. I discovered crystal meth and cocaine. Then I discovered the kicker: heroin. I liked it so much that I only allowed myself to do it every few months because I refused to become a junkie. I almost died of an overdose, then did it one more time. I became a blackout drunk. I drank a huge bottle of Jameson in one sitting, and wouldn't remember hours of a day.

I got clean and stayed sober for three years. In that three years I got to know myself really well. I did everything I was told I was supposed to in order to understand why I drank and drugged like I did. I took in to account all of my own personal responsibility for why my life became such a mess. Slowly but surely, I fixed it. I am in no way perfect, but I developed coping mechanisms, and I am thankful for that three years. I started drinking on occasion about a year ago. I have done well with it. I have had a bottle of Jameson on my counter since Xmas and have only made two drinks out of it. I would have NEVER had a bottle last that long before. I drink like a normal person. I remember what happened the night before. I don't wake up with blazing hangovers. It's awesome.

My anxiety sometimes seems like it's getting worse, but I think that's only when I'm in the thick of it. I have challenged a lot of my anxiety triggers. I can go to public places that are more crowded and sometimes I can actually stay and hang out. I can drive to my folks' house in Elk Grove right in the middle of stop and go traffic. I can have people over my house and not die if more than ten people show up. But the one thing I know is: I will always have anxiety issues. I am never going to be one of those people for whom calm is a regular state of being. I freak out about things at least once an hour during my waking life. I just don't fly in to a panic attack all of the time like I used to.

I have given in to taking the occasional Xanax. I only take 1/2 at a time, and 10 pills will last me about three months. I don't ever want to take anything on a regular basis. I am just not comfortable being pill dependent. I know that if I were to get on a mood stabilizer I would probably operate better and life would be easier, but I won't do it. I won't do it until I am so crippled by my mood swings that I can't avoid it. I find that behavior modification, meditation, and acupuncture are working for me along with the occasional Xanax, and I'm cool with that.

The people around me are very good about helping me when I am in a panic mode. They know that sometimes we will be out and then all of a sudden I'll need to leave. They understand if I need to take a pill I'm not just doing it to disengage and not cope, I am doing it because if I don't I will go in to full panic mode and be down for the count for hours. I am having a house concert at the end of next month. A house concert that will be really hard for me. It's something I wouldn't even have attempted when I first bought my house. 40 some odd people in my tiny home. I know that night will be a Xanax night. I know that there is probably no way in hell I'm getting through that night without the help of pharmaceuticals. I'm trying to get more comfortable with the fact that I am not weak because I can't just calm myself down in some situations. My brain is broke. It's never not going to be broke. I still haven't accepted that, but I'm working on it.

What I am really thankful for is even through the really tough times when my anxiety made me feel defeated or depressed, I never acted out on the thoughts that people in my life would probably be better off without me here. A co-worker's friend just had their 16 year old son hang himself, and I can't imagine the sense of loss and hurt that that family must be going through, because that young boy thought that things were so harsh that he would be better off just ending it. My thoughts go out to his family and friends. No matter what goes on in my life and even if sometimes I just want to withdraw, I know that there is always a light out there and things to discover that I haven't yet experienced. I am glad I feel loved and know that no matter what I'm going through, I don't have to ever give up and go back to living a life where I didn't take care of myself and treat myself well.

Happy picture of the day: shame cat! Every time I see Roxy sleeping like this I ask her, "Oh, what have you done that you need to hide your face??" I've officially turned in to a cat person. I talk to them constantly.

The Post That Will Piss The Right People Off

The following punishments fit the crimes. I don't care what you say.

When an adult says, "I miss you since you're not on Facebook" both of their eyes fall out and they have five seconds to find them and put them back in before they are permanently blind.

If you pick up the phone to return a non-emergency text while sharing a meal in a public place, you will have to pay the bill of everyone in said public place.

If you play a hand of Words With Friends while out with a significant other you have to light yourself on fire and then sit there like a monk until you are dead.

If you can't even go a half hour in the car without being on the phone, your lips fall off.

If you rush in to elevators/busses/trains before letting passengers exit 1000 bees fly up your ass and sting you on your sphincter. Yes, I know your sphincter isn't inside your asshole but it just sounded funnier to me this way.

Getting mad at someone for unfriending you, instantly renders you unable to procreate.

If you show up more than 15 minutes late without sending a text or calling to let someone know you are running late, you have painful urination for a week. This only applies to dinner parties or dinners out where there are reservations involved. If you are just going to a party that is from like noon to six, this does not apply.

If you are upset with someone and talk shit, but never discuss the matter with the person you are upset with, you get to slide down a giant razor blade in to a pool of rubbing alcohol.

Uttering, "We got in a Facebook fight" will be instant reason for someone to stab you in the face, and receive no punishment for it.

If you ride my ass while we are on an exit ramp from the freeway, I can slam on my brakes and make you hit me. Then you have to buy me a new car.

If you are at a table making comments about, "Oh, there is nothing here I can eat. It's all so fattening!" you instantly gain 100 pounds which you can never lose.

Okay, that's enough ranting for now. This cold is making me punchy and I have very little patience for humans today. And I can't even BEGIN to express how tired I am of everyone having to constantly remind me that it's hard for them to remember to invite me to stuff since I don't have Facebook. Here's the thing: if you forget, I won't care. Friendship is not about convenience or me doing something I don't want to do, to make your life easier.

Happy picture of the day: Ryan Gosling. Because I just wanted to look at Ryan Gosling today.

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I Feel Like The Monkey In Outbreak

So I have been ridiculously sick since new year's day. I got the most absurd stomach flu I've ever had and was literally unable to even keep down liquids for three days. The illness ran in total about 5 days. I was joking that someone had slipped me some water from India. Or I was a real life character in the Oregon Trail game and I had been the player who got dysentery. At any rate, as soon as I felt decent again I caught a shitty ass cold. I figure this is rad as the year can't get any worse, so starting off like this is totally fine with me. Nowhere to go but up!!

I took up camping on my couch, and had the tv on and heater blasting the whole time, so I can just imagine what my energy bills will be like for the month. I am pretty sure after this cold I will have the immune system of the gods for a while though. You know when you're so sick you can't even stand up long enough to take a shower? That was me. I took two showers in a whole week. It was disgusting. Don't get me started on how my OCD won't allow me to puke in the same toilet I've just used for toileting purposes. Thank goodness I have two bathrooms. I was running back and forth between both for days.

So now I'm back, but I don't have the brain power to write anything of interest. I didn't even get on the internet for days while I was ill. I hadn't any interest whatsoever. I just today caught up on all of my blogs and commented on a few. These are the days where I feel like I should just get rid of the blog and stay in touch with all the folks I've started communicating with that I adore. But I know I'm just sick and tired and it'll pass.

I made a huge slab of ribs last night for my first real meal I was able to digest and good lord were they awesome. I have little to no appetite which is kind of nice. I lost 8 pounds during my illness so I'm hoping to just keep going with it. I also quit smoking as a side-effect so I'm gonna stick with that too. I also decided to not drink for the rest of the month as drinking is when I want to smoke the most. So sometimes illness leads to better health!!

Anyways, I hope your guys' 2013 started off better than mine, and that you are making a mighty fine time of things. I'm just happy to be at work (sad I know) and not be laying on my damn couch covered in kitties and tissues.

Happy picture of the day: my Molly kitty. She was really cute while I was sick and stuck by my side an awful lot.