Ever since I quit my job a month ago I have been thinking of this blog. I have been writing posts in my head and have sadly not been posting them.
SO. This is just a small reminder that I am in fact alive. I am writing and have just completed Chapter 8. Despite what Chuck says, I'm quite proud of my "zombie" story. When I finished Chapter 8 on Sunday-Monday (I hadn't slept) I felt so energized that I only went to bed at 8:30 in the morning.
Have I mentioned that I hate Corporate America yet I can't stop dreaming about my old job.
It's enough to give someone the heebie jeebies.
Anyhoo...I've been reading, playing dragon age, writing, doing errands, baking and most important drinking. I hope to God I don't end up with a weird drinking problem if I ever lift myself from the ranks of unemployed.
On a separate but also important note....how are you guys?
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
sigh
So tomorrow is going to be a big day because I have a very scary decision to make that I'm ready to make. So all I ask is for the 11 followers to actually give a shout out to their high being for me.
I've been panicking all day. I woke up on the edge of a panic attack. The messed up thing was I thought I was doing better with those. The meds should've regulated that and the months in therapy should have given me some sort of strength to deal with this, but you know what? This is situational and since it's been a very long time since I've started feeling/doing the repetitious movements and the clenching/unclenching of fists as well as the racing thoughts, pain in the chest, can't catch my breath, want to disappear, having an extra beer because tomorrow cannot be faced actions that it's foreign to me.
I will be fine though because I have to be. I will be fine because I need to be. I will be fine because I want to be.
My husband is being super-supportive and I'm trying to be as upbeat as I can about that but with the bad day and the fact that I sprained my ankle (again! same foot in the past 11 years) has been trying. But, I love him and he loves me and we'll make it.
I just felt the need to vent, sorry that this isn't entertaining or mood lifting. I guess I can try to regale you with something:
My new bartender: "Hey, what do you call that useless skin around a penis?"
Me: (very confused and wary) - what?
My new bartender : A man!
I've been panicking all day. I woke up on the edge of a panic attack. The messed up thing was I thought I was doing better with those. The meds should've regulated that and the months in therapy should have given me some sort of strength to deal with this, but you know what? This is situational and since it's been a very long time since I've started feeling/doing the repetitious movements and the clenching/unclenching of fists as well as the racing thoughts, pain in the chest, can't catch my breath, want to disappear, having an extra beer because tomorrow cannot be faced actions that it's foreign to me.
I will be fine though because I have to be. I will be fine because I need to be. I will be fine because I want to be.
My husband is being super-supportive and I'm trying to be as upbeat as I can about that but with the bad day and the fact that I sprained my ankle (again! same foot in the past 11 years) has been trying. But, I love him and he loves me and we'll make it.
I just felt the need to vent, sorry that this isn't entertaining or mood lifting. I guess I can try to regale you with something:
My new bartender: "Hey, what do you call that useless skin around a penis?"
Me: (very confused and wary) - what?
My new bartender : A man!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Low ceiling moves in and circles the bay
I forgot what I hate about moving. It's not just the actual packing or the lungfuls of long forgotten skin particles that fly out from behind the couch, it is the actual physical process of looking for a new place.
I'm picky. Let's face it (well maybe you don't have to face it, just recognize it) and I have specifics for where I want to live. I was poor until I was 8, so I my issues are more of a reflection of who I don't want to become rather than who I was. Anyway, I don't want to live in a neighborhood full of rundown stores, drunks and crazy homeless cats. I'm crazy with a book addiction so there needs to be bars and bookstores near by. There needs to be trains and decent supermarkets and for the love of God, there needs to be a diversity in the neighborhood and not one crazy European Sect of Insane. IF it was two that would be fine however it is too homogeneous for my liking.
I imagine that I will be doing a lot of walking.
I also hate having to explain the reasons why I'm moving.
I've never stayed in one house/apartment for longer than four years. I don't know why but it's true. 4 1/2 years seems to be the max. We moved around a lot as a kid. When my mother was dating my now step-dad, we stayed in an apartment in Middle Village for 4 years before moving to a house for another 4 1/2. Rather I was there for that long, my parents are still there with the littlest of my clan. I have a wanderlust that is alternatively squelched by - now well-controlled- panic attacks and the lack of funding. And the reticence of the hubster about leaving his job and NYC.
Which I get.
I also hate the idea of neighbors. I don't like them, I don't want to know them and I sure as hell don't want to pretend like I give a shit about anything they are saying. NOT to say that I'm a bad person and wouldn't be friends with a neighbor but it has been my experience that people living in buildings are exceedingly noisy or just plain rude. I will say 'good morning', 'have a good night' or 'thanks' but I will not pry into whether or not they are leasing or buying.
I also don't like anyone else's noise by my own.
When did I become a curmudgeonly old Korean war vet?
Probably on my second beer and third hot dog.
I also just a read book that I've been waiting a year for and it not only underwhelmed me but also completely frustrated me.
I'm also afraid to write, sleep and continue playing Red Dead.
Yeah, I know.
On another note that is both less misanthropic and happier...
I got nothing.
I think I need a nap.
Any good tiding's from the world outside of mine?
I'm picky. Let's face it (well maybe you don't have to face it, just recognize it) and I have specifics for where I want to live. I was poor until I was 8, so I my issues are more of a reflection of who I don't want to become rather than who I was. Anyway, I don't want to live in a neighborhood full of rundown stores, drunks and crazy homeless cats. I'm crazy with a book addiction so there needs to be bars and bookstores near by. There needs to be trains and decent supermarkets and for the love of God, there needs to be a diversity in the neighborhood and not one crazy European Sect of Insane. IF it was two that would be fine however it is too homogeneous for my liking.
I imagine that I will be doing a lot of walking.
I also hate having to explain the reasons why I'm moving.
I've never stayed in one house/apartment for longer than four years. I don't know why but it's true. 4 1/2 years seems to be the max. We moved around a lot as a kid. When my mother was dating my now step-dad, we stayed in an apartment in Middle Village for 4 years before moving to a house for another 4 1/2. Rather I was there for that long, my parents are still there with the littlest of my clan. I have a wanderlust that is alternatively squelched by - now well-controlled- panic attacks and the lack of funding. And the reticence of the hubster about leaving his job and NYC.
Which I get.
I also hate the idea of neighbors. I don't like them, I don't want to know them and I sure as hell don't want to pretend like I give a shit about anything they are saying. NOT to say that I'm a bad person and wouldn't be friends with a neighbor but it has been my experience that people living in buildings are exceedingly noisy or just plain rude. I will say 'good morning', 'have a good night' or 'thanks' but I will not pry into whether or not they are leasing or buying.
I also don't like anyone else's noise by my own.
When did I become a curmudgeonly old Korean war vet?
Probably on my second beer and third hot dog.
I also just a read book that I've been waiting a year for and it not only underwhelmed me but also completely frustrated me.
I'm also afraid to write, sleep and continue playing Red Dead.
Yeah, I know.
On another note that is both less misanthropic and happier...
I got nothing.
I think I need a nap.
Any good tiding's from the world outside of mine?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I don't like Tuesday's
It's probably not a good sign when the first thing you do when you get home is kick your shoes off, drop your purse and mail down and then go to the bottles of wine that are on your kitchen counter, unscrew one and pour yourself a tall glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, prop open your latest paranormal romance and pray that you'll win the lottery or that someone will realize your potential because God only knows when you will.
Or it could mean you have a drinking problem but I'm willing to bet that I don't.
So today sucked and with the weather gathering up to vomit poisoned water down on us, the prospect of a sunny beautiful week has turned both dismal and pretty much improbable. It's cold, gusty, muggy and with the amount of crazy hormones running through my body I'm vacillating between wanting to disappear beneath a cloud of blankets or taking everyone down with me.
It sucks to be a girl.
Book Peddler is finally up. So all you semi-literate and faithful followers should take a gander over there. If not, well, you don't have to but know that you've made the baby Jesus weep and five small adorable puppies. Oh, and you've probably let the crazy people win.
Don't let them win.
The hubsters birthday is on Thursday. He wants something quiet. Total opposite of me. It's amazing the differences between people that have decided to remain with each other for there duration of their natural lives. I would want all my friends around so that I could bask in their love and hopefully eradiate that shite right back out to them. Hubster wants to just chill with me.
God I hope these hormones go away before then. Otherwise I'm liable to be sobbing into my bottle of Merlot.
Has anyone missed the SNL that was on last week. It was one of the best for awhile. Oh Betty White you are a national treasure.
That's all for now f-f-f-f-f-f-olks.
Or it could mean you have a drinking problem but I'm willing to bet that I don't.
So today sucked and with the weather gathering up to vomit poisoned water down on us, the prospect of a sunny beautiful week has turned both dismal and pretty much improbable. It's cold, gusty, muggy and with the amount of crazy hormones running through my body I'm vacillating between wanting to disappear beneath a cloud of blankets or taking everyone down with me.
It sucks to be a girl.
Book Peddler is finally up. So all you semi-literate and faithful followers should take a gander over there. If not, well, you don't have to but know that you've made the baby Jesus weep and five small adorable puppies. Oh, and you've probably let the crazy people win.
Don't let them win.
The hubsters birthday is on Thursday. He wants something quiet. Total opposite of me. It's amazing the differences between people that have decided to remain with each other for there duration of their natural lives. I would want all my friends around so that I could bask in their love and hopefully eradiate that shite right back out to them. Hubster wants to just chill with me.
God I hope these hormones go away before then. Otherwise I'm liable to be sobbing into my bottle of Merlot.
Has anyone missed the SNL that was on last week. It was one of the best for awhile. Oh Betty White you are a national treasure.
That's all for now f-f-f-f-f-f-olks.
Monday, May 10, 2010
silence
Between betty white, bomb scares and book peddling I've been a little busy and therefore haven't really updated. However, I'm alive and will be updating shortly with something other than this which is nothing but a glamorized twitter feed.
I shall leave you with this:
I shall leave you with this:
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
"Peter I have a mammogram in the morning"
Oh Family Guy!
Ok, so I don't have a mammogram in the morning.....I do have a doctor's appt tomorrow after work, which sucks because I'm broke and co-pays are slightly evil....but anyhoo....this weekend was amazing. So amazing that Monday is becoming more and more like that disease that you hope that you never get but you are at high risk for it. That disease is called work.
How I wish I had been immunized at an early age.
No new revelations have been made this weekend. I mean yes, it was my anniversary this weekend which was awesome but I meant in my "world" news. Other than the oil spills, the bomb scare and the fact that Jamba Juice on 6th Ave doesn't have an Orange Juice machine that worked - there's nothing going on.
What I will tell you is that The Snug is a decent bar, it was hot and I'm drinking a Magic Hat #9 while hoping that the combination of Sam Adams, Coors Light and Magic don't leave me in a state of reckoning tomorrow.
It's Summer Time though and I'm feeling manic. I mean who doesn't? The call of the cooled down wind after a scorcher of an afternoon. You can smell the undertones of earth and moisture with the heady overtones of promise and moonlight. Poetic but true.
I am starting work on The Book Peddler - my other blog - and still working on Zombie Love. Let's hope that one of those things can be a success within the next couple of months.
And on that note...later skaters.
Ok, so I don't have a mammogram in the morning.....I do have a doctor's appt tomorrow after work, which sucks because I'm broke and co-pays are slightly evil....but anyhoo....this weekend was amazing. So amazing that Monday is becoming more and more like that disease that you hope that you never get but you are at high risk for it. That disease is called work.
How I wish I had been immunized at an early age.
No new revelations have been made this weekend. I mean yes, it was my anniversary this weekend which was awesome but I meant in my "world" news. Other than the oil spills, the bomb scare and the fact that Jamba Juice on 6th Ave doesn't have an Orange Juice machine that worked - there's nothing going on.
What I will tell you is that The Snug is a decent bar, it was hot and I'm drinking a Magic Hat #9 while hoping that the combination of Sam Adams, Coors Light and Magic don't leave me in a state of reckoning tomorrow.
It's Summer Time though and I'm feeling manic. I mean who doesn't? The call of the cooled down wind after a scorcher of an afternoon. You can smell the undertones of earth and moisture with the heady overtones of promise and moonlight. Poetic but true.
I am starting work on The Book Peddler - my other blog - and still working on Zombie Love. Let's hope that one of those things can be a success within the next couple of months.
And on that note...later skaters.
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