Friday, March 31, 2006

Things that go bump! in the night

I smoke. I know I know, it's bad for me and I'm gonna die but let's just put that aside for a sec...

I smoke out on our deck. I put the cigarette butts in used water bottles for a make shift works.

Background: Our house is backed to a small little forest and behind that is a church. We are the second house from the end and there is a tiny grouping of trees between the side of the last house and the main road. From the road to the side of the house on the end there is a trail where people (kids, mostly) cut through to get to where ever they are going. We do not have a fence and we have stairs going from the top deck to the bottom "deck". When my boyfriend got the townhouse inspected, the inspector (gadget...woo! woo!) said that the wood on the deck needs to be replaced and until we do, to not have too many people on the deck at the same time (eeps!).

So, I have a number of fears:

#1 Being Attacked! by Non-Existant Attackers

When I am outside smoking, I think about some crazy critter or some crazy human coming up the stairs and attacking! me. I admit it's stupid, but I apparently have an active imagination. So I keep my back to the door ensuring I will always be able to see my attacker. The light on our deck is not the greatest and the fireplace chimney protrudes out blocking the light from the rest of the deck. So its all creepy dark on the far end of the deck. So I huddle near the light and door. There are days when I look out into the "forest" and I hear rustling or swear I see something looking! at me. It ends up just being the water gauge (or something, I dunno, Its a light green thing and has this bright orange sticker on it that sometimes look like eyes (ooohhh scary). Like I said, active imagination. I also, lean over and peer around the chimney protrusion (its a word) to see if there is anyone there waiting patiently to attack! me. It could happen..

#2 Fall down, go boom

Likewise, I also have this fear of falling! through the deck. Ya know, cuz its so old and we haven't replaced the wood. So I step lightly, and when I hear a creak, my stomach drops just slightly. I have a general fear of falling, but I will leave that for another time.

#3 The Roof! The Roof! The Roof is on FIAH

I also worry about setting the house on fire with my make-shift ashtrays so I am constantly adding water to the bottle. It's dumb and I feel like Im watering a plant almost...only...not.

#4 WHAT THE F... WAS THAT?!?!?!

When my boyfriend travels, I blame every single sound I hear on the cats. Even the ones that the cats couldnt possibly make. Like random pounding on the wall. It makes me feel better. There was one time when the cats were not in the house (at my parents, catsitting--my parents were catsitting, not the cats babysi..well you get it) and I heard a noise and thought to myself "it's the cats" and I rolled over in bed to get more comfy. Then I thought "yo stupid, the cats arent even here." "shhhhh" I told myself.

#5 oooooh, Coocoi!

Somewhat related...When I was a kid, I used to tell myself that if I was covered completely with my blanket the monsters wouldn't get me. This must've stuck (cuz it works, duh!) because I tend to wake up all sweaty to this day. It doesn't matter that I'm melting in my sleep, im protected from the monsters! Or "coocoi", as it was known. Not sure of the spelling, but its pronounced "COO-COO-EEE". (There are times when I pretend I'm more spanish (not mexican, I said spanish demmit!) than I actually am.)

weirdo ;)

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Big Love!

I have to say that I am totally getting sucked into this show. After I watched the first episode, I was so...what's the word...I dunno, disgusted maybe?

Second episode got me hooked though, still not sure why. Maybe it's a horribleAccidentOnTheSideOfTheRoadButCan'tStopLooking type deal?

So far, Nikki freaks me out and pisses me off. She seems so evil, no? Margie looks like she is...I dunno...15, maybe? She looked older in Mona Lisa Smile. Wonder how they are getting her to look that young? Her skin looks super duper soft. Someone tell me how to do that. And let's see...oh... Barbara, I don't seem to have any issue with, but whats up with her lips? Something wigs me out about 'em. Oh and she said "oral is moral." something icks me out about that too.

Wow Tricia, prude much?

Never thought so, but I dunno...?

and Bill. I'm just seeing waaaaaaaaaay more of him than I would like to. Nekkid Twister guy...grody. Hope he keeps hydrated cuz GOOD LORD they get it on a LOT.

Someone at the cable company is gettin ready to be fired cuz, the newest unaired episode shows up on HBO OnDemand the week before that episode is to air. Tsk. Tsk. Wish they would screw up with Sopranos too, that would be sweet.

I would never be able to be a polygamist.

Dripping with guilt...

One night, back in good 'ol San Antonio, my Mom and I were walking to the car from our apartment. I stepped off the curb headed towards the passenger side and heard this loud thump and a "oof" sort of noise. My mom had tripped over the cement block that was in front of the car. She fell on her knees and broke her fall with her hands. I tried to help her up but like most stubborn independent women, she refused it. We got into the car and blood was dripping down her legs and she skinned the palms of her hands trying to break her fall.

I instantly felt this overwhelming feeling of guilt. It wasn't my fault that she fell, but I still felt a sense of responsibility somehow. Like I should have reminded her about the cement block or something.

Anyway, like the trooper she was, she wiped the blood off her legs with a tissue, rubbed her hands together, took a deep breath, and put the key in the ignition. I don't remember much after that, just the flood of guilt that washed over me and seemed to stay for quite a while.

I bring this up because I had a sort of flashback last night. My boyfriend and I were walking from a Restaurant (yumm...Sweetwater Tavern) to the car. I walked to the passenger side of his car, stepped off the curb and the guilt washed over me again. I instantly flashed back to that moment when my mom fell, and I felt like crying. I looked back to see if she was OK, but my boyfriend was already at the drivers side door unlocking the car (or getting in--I forget, reality is fuzzy at this moment). I get into the car and I'm quiet. I tell my boyfriend what just happened and he is sympathetic, then he tells me how something similar happened to him.

Even now, I can't shake this guilty feeling.

This has happened to me before, and I can't pinpoint what triggers the memory. But usually when it comes, I call my mom and somehow work it into the conversation that I was thinking about that moment and tell her how I felt/am feeling. She then tries to console me which makes me feel even worse.

How tough my mom is, and is always the crutch I lean on. I know if it was me who had fallen, I would have broken into tears and sat on the pavement crying like the baby I am. I wonder when I will inherit her toughness?

Maybe one day...

Friday, March 24, 2006

Titles are stupid

only cuz I can't think of one...

So yesterday, I'm at a red light, completely stopped. I look in my rear-view mirror to see this SUV barreling towards me. I keep staring and think to myself "uhh, slowing down now would be great!" As the SUV gets closer and closer and still going awfully fast, I notice the driver is a woman (don't get me started) and she isn't. even. looking. She has her head turned and was (I guess) digging around for something in her passenger seat. Meanwhile, I push on my brake harder hoping that will help something. She finally looked up and stopped.Phew. and, Jesus Christ Lady!

side note: whats with the pushing on my brake harder? As if that's gonna do anything? I also, duck and/or flinch when something is flying through the air towards my car while driving. I'm not the only one, right? RIGHT?!?!

Anyway, fast forward to me being in the checkout line at the grocery store, putting all my stuff on the conveyor belt (or whatever it's called). This lady goes to the line next to me and the cashier informs her that the line is express, as I guess he saw that she had more than 15 items.

BTW, wooohoo cashier! Way to enforce those rules! I hate being in the express lane with people that have way more than 15 items and the cashier never says anything. (Nor do I, but I have no spine.)

Anyway, so she moves over to my line and she takes a look at the conveyor belt and my cart, which is still pretty full of stuff, and she sighs and yells to the cashier who busted her, "Well, can you open another regular lane then?!?! Why do you have only one regular lane open!?!?!" She continues to mumble to herself and glare at me. WTF? What's with the growing population of rude around here? How is this my fault? In a hurry? Great, don't buy so much and then you can go through the express lane. Don't glare at me bit. . . yeah I didn't say anything. Just smiled and went on my way (as she literally taps her foot behind me).

Then I get home and unpack, and realize I am missing a key ingredient for the meal I am going to be making tonight (sonofa!). So I go back out and head to the other grocery store in hopes of finding what I needed. I did. And then stood in the express line FOREVER. I checked to make sure everyone had the requisite 15 items or fewer and they did (I only had 2). No, this was the cashiers fault. Ugh, talk about moving in slow motion!

This very young goth couple was in front of the guy in front of me (you get that?) and they were buying a family size can of chef boyardee's spaghetti and meatballs and two large gatorades (healthy, no?). The goth dude hands the cashier a $50 bill, and the cashier types something in, turns to the cash drawer and freezes. He flips the switch on his cashier stand and the light begins to blink to let someone know he needs help. The manager walks up and the cashier says "I rang in $20 but he gave me $50." She looks at him for a second and goes "ooookay, so just add $30 to his change." He blinks and looks at her all deer-in-the-headlight-like and says after the hamsters do their thing in his brain "OK, so I give him back twe...thirty-eight dollars and 42 cents?" She nods and continues with the "are you fricking kidding me?" look. So he opens the drawer and announces that he needs fives. So the manager says "K, gimme the $50, and I will get you fives." He hands it to her and she returns moments later with fives.

On to the next customer (dude in front of me). He swipes his card and announces that he wants $50 (ugh don't make this complicated, man!). The cashier looks blankly at him for a sec and then types in whatever and the cash drawer opens (phew). He then begins to dig in his $20 pile for what I can only assume was that $50 he just had. The dude in front of me notices too and says "hey, just gimme two 20's and a 10." The cashier turns and looks at him again, blankly. Turns back to the cash drawer and gets the increments out. He hands it to the guy and continues to dig in the 20 pile for that damn $50. geez. And then the dude in front of me patiently waits while the cashier folds his coupons spewed out of the register all nice and neat. The guy does that "come on, hand it over" motion with his hand but the cashier continues to meticulously fold. HOLY CRAP KID! I look over at the self-checkout. *sigh* long line.

Then its my turn. I pay with $1 bills and I'm outta there.

all I gotta say to that is...OUTOESDIFJ)W#$*(YT)(*#$&%)@(#*%)#(%&)@.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

I feel pretty, oh so pretty. . .


So I have been having a rough go of it the past week and a half I'd say. Stupid Female Self-Esteem Issues. Ain't it funny how your period always seems to show up at the most opportune time?

My mood went further downhill when my boyfriend left for a business trip...

I walked back into the house after waving him goodbye from the stoop, looked around and felt. . . sad. Even the cats looked upset. So I said to them "Don't worry, Daddy will be back soon." and clicked the TV on. That night I was so bloody restless. I hardly slept and then called in sick the next day. The whole day (when I wasnt sleeping) I felt so bored and unhappy. I even did a little work to keep my mind occupied. I canceled dinner with a friend cuz I felt just so incredibly shitty. The next day I went to work, not getting much sleep that previous night either and was still feeling like crap. But hey, sometimes you gotta suck it up and plow through it
(or whatever?).

I was trying very hard to figure out what the f...udge was wrong with me. I kept seeing depression every where I looked--Magazines, TV ads, etc. So I thought "well maybe I'm depressed?" and then I thought "don't be stupid, this ain't that serious." Whatever it was I was knee-deep in it. Though I didn't cry much, which is odd for me. I am superEmotionalCryIfIWantToGirl *flex*.

Yesterday I started to feel better and I took the time to iron my clothes (instead of the usual, picking whatever doesn't need ironing) AND I waxed my uni-brow and man lip. Good stuff. It's amazing what that can do for a girl cuz today I feel much much better.

Guess who flew back late last night and is home. Coincidence? I really hope so.

I do NOT, I repeat DO NOT want to be one of those girls that cannot survive when her man is gone. I refuse to be that dependent on someone. I realize that I am dependent on my boyfriend, but good lord not THAT much (I hope). And I don't get why this trip had such an impact on me. I mean, we have lived apart--and by that I mean in a different city, different state, different country--for most of the 10 (holy sh. . . TEN?!?!) years we have been together. So WHY is this three days affecting me so hard?

Three different people (including my mother) have blamed it on my period. They were all girls. What's that about? You ladies are just adding to the whole "women can't be President" theory!

What sucks is that it is probably true.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Holy Inflexibility Batman!

Alright so I didn't go to the gym...BUT I did do yoga for an hour. That counts, right? It better cuz man Im sore in the weirdest places today.

You ever see that movie (or was it a tv episode?) where the football players have to take ballet or something similar and they are all awkward and uncoordinated? Yeah, thats me.

I dunno what happened. In my "younger" days I used to be totally flexible. I could do both left and right splits in high school (never could quite get the middle ouchy one) when I was in the pep-squad (yes, loserville population 1).

Throughout all the poses I was like shaking and holding my breath and the chick (I was doing a DVD) kept saying to expand your ribcage and breathe to the back of your spine and all I could think was "SHUT UP ALREADY and say we can get out of the pose now." Yeah, Namaste this bit. . . ahem.

Anyway, heh. . .

The self-challenge says yoga counts, so there. Speaking of the self-challenge, I was updating my profile this morning cuz I figured losing 6lbs might mean Ive lost some inches somewheres. Well I do this superduperscientific thing where I take my headphone wire and wrap it around whatever I'm measuring (waist, hips, etc.) and then I lay the wire on my desk and put a mark on my desk. I then whip out my trusty 12 in. ruler and measure. According to my calculations, I have dropped 1.5 inches from my waist and everywhere else is the same (well thats not actually true, my measurements were like .5 inches larger than original measurements everywhere else so Im gonna ignore that). I wonder what my measurements really are?

I'd like to say that I don't care about the numbers and just want my clothes to fit better and feel better in my skin, but my clothes are looser (especially my pants!)--so I wanna know what i've lost. Is that so wrong?

It could be bad if I get obsessive though, huh.

At work a couple of days ago, we had the "stress awareness fair" which I look forward to every year cuz we get 15 min massages. ahhhh, love them. The Massuese kept saying "You really shouldnt be feeling this much pain, Im barely touching you" and kept trying to sell me on going to a chiropractor. She works for a chiropractor and I started to wonder if she gets some kind of commission or something cuz man she was pushing hard for it, and it was working cuz I was really considering it. There was one point where she was doing something to my shoulder blades and my fingers were all tingly--after I said something she really started pushing me to go to the chiropractor. I have no idea how long my actual massage was. All I know is, my appt was for 11:00 and I got back to my desk at 11:45. Sure, I had to wait a few for others to get done but it didnt really feel like I waited all that long. Either way, I felt so good after.

Today though, with the soreness from the cardio on Tuesday, the Yoga yesterday and the massage, my body is so incredibly stiff and achy. Hope I still make it to the gym.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I did it!

Alright so it's not like I did something overly impressive but...

I did go to the gym...

and so did my boyfriend...

...we went together!

Also, I try to weigh myself once a week and I've somehow dropped another 1.5. I guess I must be eating right, no? I did the math though and I've lost 6.6 lbs since I've decided to do this, average of 1.6 a week. Which isnt that great but at least its not gaining?

Im hoping this is enough motivation to keep me going and keep focused and go to the gym 5 days a week, cuz if I can drop a pound and a half by going once a week, imagine what I could do with 5!

One thing that did irritate me, was when I weighed myself my boyfriend was standing next to me. I looked over at him when the number showed up with a shocked happy face and he ... giggled? umm, excuse me mr. sensitive, thanks for the support! He said it was because everytime we go to the gym I weigh myself...

Well if went more than once a week you would see I dont weight myself everytime I come here!

Jackass...geez. Pat me on the back dangit and tell me I did good. I need validation! *stomp*

*sigh* boys...

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

When a problem comes along, you must whip it!


Ugh, so frickin L-A-Z-Y.

I've been in a sort of a rut for a while now where I'm unhappy with myself. Life is great really, but my self-image has been stomped me. I've turned into this very lazy girl (now mind you, I wasn't all that active to begin with) who puts off doing the dishes even though she knows the friggin cats jump up on the counter (!) and try to eat whatever is there. I put off working out, I put off quitting smoking. Hell, I even put off the application of my make-up until after I'm at work, and granted Im really the only one here at 6am, but still.

You ever see those women who are always so put together? Yeah, thats so not me, but I do secretly wish it was. Those girls who change their purse everyday to match their outfits. They have shoes in colors other than black and brown AND MATCH THEIR DAGGON OUTFITS! I pretend Im sickened by it, like they have some sort of fault and Im perfect. But really, secretly deep down, I wanna be like that and I know Im the one who looks like she could give two craps about what she looks like.

Occassionally the motivation will hit me and I will try. I dont think I will ever change my purse to match my outfit. But I did buy a pair of red heels. I think I've worn them a handful of times. So hard to match red, apparently. I dont usually do my hair, I just blow dry and go. But I know it looks tons better when I do do (heh, dodo) my hair. Yet I dont.

On the fat girl front, Im trying...really I am. Its not an active trying I suppose cuz I tend to take off an ENTIRE week at a time from working out. This then overflows into my eating and I figure that if I'm not working out, whats the point of eating right, really.

My saving grace has been that I only have good stuff in the house, so therefore, I'm eating right--but only cuz im too lazy to go out and get something bad. So I have lost 5lbs, but I KNOW if I was super serious about this, I could drop this weight so much quicker. My clothes are baggier, I dont quite resemble a woman 8 months pregnant anymore...and yet I still took last week off?

So this week is a new week. I've been eating well, like a good little girl. Today is workout day and Im already thinking of some reason why I cant do it.

I have my moments where I am all gun-ho about it and go everyday and feel all good about myself. Then I let something like my boyfriend not quite having the motivation yet influence me and make me think that I too lack the motivation. There is a big part of me who wants he and I to be a team and do this together, all Biggest Loser style. But he isnt feeling it yet and I know I just need to let him be until he musters up the motivation. I thought perhaps I could motivate him, but trust me I have tried many tactics and none of them work. Plus his work schedule is all screwy and up in the air most of the time, its hard to get a routine going. (Wow, I can even make excuses for him, too! I'm a professional here.) Anyway, so Ive decided just to focus on me and what I need to be doing and maybe me doing well will motivate him...or something. In the meantime, I have to crack that whip and get my large rear into the gym. No excuses!

Monday, March 13, 2006

It's 8:45 and my a$$ is asleep already. . .

Working the 6am-3pm shift does have its perks--like leaving for home at 3pm. But the fact that I've been sitting at my desk since 6am is definitely not a perk, and because I haven't gotten up but once to put my lunch in the freezer, my rear is taking a nap. Which would be fine, if the rest of me was too.

Ah I can't complain too much (or can I?), though hearing my alarm at 4:30am does suck on so many levels but getting home at 3am is like working half-day like every day...only...not. And getting up at 5 (*cough* yeah, I am a serious snooze button fiend) also means that I have go to bed at te...yeah 10pm which never happens. I blame me wanting to spend time with the boyfriend and wanting to see my tv shows when they come ON not days later on TIVO...I hate hate HATE hearing what happened on a show the morning after and I havent even WATCHED it yet. Damn you HOT 99.5...grrr.

Anyway so long about 11pm when the boyfriend and I are both in bed and I realize what friggin time it is and I do the math in my head "So if I go to bed now, I'll get fii..yeah five and a half hours of sleep...awesome. Crap, and thats like if I am asleep NOW which, Im obviously not."

...And then I do this really shitty thing and I start getting pissed boyfriend. Why? Cuz he is still watching T.V. and DOESNT HE KNOW WHEN I HAVE TO GET UP. The guy works from home most days so I'll admit I am a smidge very jealous. And, yes, I am aware that it's so not fair of me to get mad at him. But I do, and ugh I suck.

Since before we moved in together I have come to the realization that I have picked up some nasty habits from my being evil and mean and heartless while in an argument.

somebody make it stop. I dont like it! I try to control it, but before I know what happened it all flies right out of my mouth. ugh. must work on this before I go all guilt-ridden-ballistic. I'm sorry baby :( .

On a happier note, I've got 3 hours of Monday under my belt already ;)