Love, Peace, and Frying Pan Grease

I don't do new years resolutions as I am always finding lovely ways to incorporate what I believe are the key elements to a happy and peaceful existence into my life.  My true, authentic self is forever a work in progress because I feel that if you stop growing and learning you might as well stop living, and that personal growth should be a high priority for everyone. I take my spirituality very seriously.  I think before I speak and I don't talk shit.

Kindness, altruism, patience, forgiveness...basic stuff.  The one thing I'm having a little bit of a hard time with is empathy (not to be confused with sympathy).  Putting yourself in someone else's shoes, understanding why it is they are feeling what they're feeling and acting the way they're acting, and possibly relating to their turmoil because you would feel and act in the same manner.

I know of a few people who behave badly by choice.  They know better but they seemingly don't care about how their words and actions affect others. They are genuinely hurtful and mean-spirited, bitter and angry, and they will lie to your face without even flinching.  Total cocksuckers.  They behave in ways I cannot understand and quite frankly would never even want to understand.  There will be no exchanging shoes with them.

Most spiritual practices teach that forgiveness is the way to peace, and I believe this.  Buddhism teaches you to send "love and light" to those you have a negative association with, meaning you have a willingness to see all things with compassionate and all-accepting eyes.  That shit is tough to do.

So, my question is, how am I supposed to feel empathy (or sympathy for that matter) for people who consciously choose to conduct their lives in a way that I find despicable?  And that most of society as a whole finds to be despicable also?  And how am I supposed to send them love and light when all I want to do is pour grease on them and set them on fire?  Clearly this goes beyond your general run of the mill act of forgiveness.  This one will require some heavy soul searching.

I know that shitty childhoods can create shitty adults, but I have some friends that have had it really tough and they are kind, decent, and wonderful people.  They do not let their horrific past define who they are in their present life.  

Since my exposure to these assholes has been ramped up a bit lately, I feel that this should be my latest spiritual project.  Love and light.  It may be the hardest one I've undertaken so far but I feel as though I am up to the task.  The past 5 months in my wonderful world have been so triumphant and life changing, I am ready to conquer anything.  

GOT DAMN FLU!!

I am just now feeling a little better after having the flu for the past 4 days, and let me tell you, that shit knocked my dick in the dirt. I felt like I had fallen out of the world's tallest tree, hitting every branch on the way down, then landed in a bucket of tar, all while someone was holding a blow torch to my throat. No kind, decent person should be subjected to that sort of misery, ever. I contemplated going to the emergency room at 3:00 in the morning on Friday as I lay in bed sobbing over how much pain I was in...and I had taken a pain pill too. I knew I should have mixed it with alcohol. Maybe those toothless, hillbilly bastards were right. Instead I went to my doctor and started taking an antibiotic, and now I feel semi-human again. Thank God for mold.




So now it's Saturday night, and I'm at home drinking orange juice with a Chloraseptic floater, and chasing it with a Cepacol throat lozenge, when I should be out with my besties Carol and Leslie celebrating Leslie's 40th birthday. Sorry girls, I'm there in spirit.

It's one thing to stay at home on a Saturday night by choice, but quite another when you're forced to due to illness. Humbug I say. The world is dirty and people need to wash their fucking hands more, clearly myself included.

On the bright side, since I always try and find the bright side, today I ate a cheese sandwich on white bread for lunch and the same thing for dinner, followed by a bowl of cherry nut ice cream...to soothe my sore throat of course. When you don't feel well you don't want to eat, so anything you can get down is beneficial to your heath. I love you cheese sandwich.

I Should Have Taken Home Ec

But only for the cooking aspect of it...I got the rest of that shit down pat.  Well except for the raising a family part.  I don't have kids.  Praise beer!

Yeah, I cannot cook for shit.  I mean for shit.  If there was a "Totally Useless in the Kitchen" award given out every year, I would be the winner, hands down.  I don't know what it is either.  It's like a total mental block.  I know I don't follow recipes very well, and I don't really know anything about seasonings or herbs.  I suppose not knowing the difference between roasting and broiling and baking doesn't help either.  Not wanting to do the dishes every night is a huge contributor, I'm sure.  Okay, well fuck it, I guess I do know why I don't cook much.

I want to learn though because I'm entertaining the idea of falling in love again, and the ability to make a decent meal just seems like something a 40 year old woman ought to be able to do. While I do have an extensive list of redeeming qualities and abilities - arm wrestling, vodka aficionado, totally shameless, wretched sense of humor, professional shot taker, slutty dancing, and an unhealthy obsession with true crime stories - a normal thing like not giving your mate food poisoning should rank high on the list too.

By the way, I'm looking for a very tall, handsome, happy, friendly, calm, honest, smart, funny, compassionate, spiritual, humble, and confident man who loves animals, nature, staying healthy, classic rock, horror movies, and has a good relationship with his family.  This will be quite the departure from my last experience, but armed with even more knowledge and understanding of who I am and what I am about, I shall not make that mistake again.  Fuck no, not today, thank you kindly.  That's a Johnny Depp quote from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Speaking of Johnny Depp, I met a guy the other day who didn't like him.  He didn't like Johnny Depp.  How is that even possible?  I'm not asking you to hump the guy, I'm just asking you to appreciate his talent.  Sheesh.

Superpowers - Assholes - I'm Not Sure Really.

Turmoil. What an ugly word.  I have seen so much of it lately.  Is it the time of year?  I know the holidays don't usually bring out the best in folks, especially when they are running around town doing things they don't want to do, spending money they don't have, and dealing with ridiculous expectations from lovers, employers, friends, and family.  Do the holidays just make some people suck even more than they usually suck?  

I wish I had a few superpowers.  Dane Cook says he'd like to be able to shoot spaghetti out of his finger.  I'd like to be able to shoot bullets out of my finger.  

90% of my life is spent in a peaceful, forgiving state of mind with a calm, joyous, kind outlook on life and people...but the other 10% consists of the urge to extinguish certain persons.  I would just feel better knowing that they were gone from the planet.  It seems like they are only here as a constant reminder of just how evil mankind can be to animals, the earth, and of course to one another.  They are totally useless and have absolutely nothing to contribute to the world.  They consciously choose to behave deplorably and commit horrendous acts - and rarely do they take responsibility for being wretched.  Ugh, just thinking about them and their horribleness makes my stomach turn.  Back to superpowers...

I'd really like to fly more than anything.  When I was little I used to take off into the sky from my driveway, just like I was swimming up to the surface of water.  I would float around in the air and "swim" from tree to tree, talking to the birds and generally being gay in every way. They were of course my favorite dreams ever and would be to this day if I still had them. Wait, no, that's not true, because nowadays I dream about saving the world and hanging out with my favorite celebrities, like John Cusack and Eddie Vedder, and they are so real, it's incredible.

Speaking of Eddie Vedder, I've seen him in concert twice in the past week and he is without a doubt one of the coolest people to ever hit the music scene.  His lyrics are so personal and his style is so original and the way he looks at life is so inspirational.  I am so grateful to have him in my real world and my dream world. 

Apple Offers Financing

Apple offers financing.  Yes they do.  Say it again with me.  APPLE OFFERS FINANCING.  As far as I'm concerned, never before have 3 more beloved or potentially dangerous words been spoken (or written I guess) since "let's do shots."

A couple of months ago, sweat leaked into my iPod when I had it stuck in my workout bra while I was mowing the yard.  I know, that's nasty, but I can't help it.  My life revolves around music.  I barely make a move without consulting either Led Zeppelin, Pearl Jam, or The Black Crowes.  His name was Clint (the iPod) and after he got wet he started a slow but steady decline that would leave me nervous, almost frantic, knowing that it was just a matter of time before he took a shit on me and I would have to break down and buy a new one, and let me tell you, them bitches ain't cheap.  $249 for a 160 GB iPod, which is what this girl needs since I have 12,000 + songs in my iTunes library.  I do not mess around with my glorious music.  

Well, there I was, in a panic on the Apple website, trying to figure out how I was gonna get a new iPod, when all of a sudden I see the most amazing words a stressed out broke bitch could see...FINANCING AVAILABLE.  What?  For real?  I was so excited I have to say that the next few seconds were spent in a haze as my mind processed just how much damage I could do with a shitload of Apple crack, I mean credit.  So what did I do?  I went for it!  I filled out the form and 10 seconds after I hit submit this lucky bitch had a $1,500 credit card that could be used right away on the Apple site!  Woo hoo!  That's right!  6 months no interest! Needless to say I was ecstatic.  ECSTATIC.  Stevie Wonder could see how ecstatic I was.

Anyway, I then proceeded to buy my classic 160 GB iPod, the new 16 GB iPod Nano, and the iPhone 5 - all for $666.69.  That's a damn good number if I may say so myself.  In the past week I have received all my merchandise except for the iPhone.  It should be here in a couple of weeks.  And let me tell you, I could not be happier.

I know in my heart that if I had to succumb to either blindness or deafness, being deaf would break me.  I have no interest in being on this earth if I can't hear Dave Brubek or Elton John, or Piper and Daisy when they purr, or the sound of my family and friends when they laugh and tell me they love me.  Not seeing them would be devastating, but I could visualize.  Not hearing them would mean death for me.  

Poop

So, I was thinking about writing a book about my life and how insanely funny and entertaining it is.  I was gonna call it "Who Wants to Talk About Poop", since I believe that pooping is the most hysterical shit (get it - shit) ever and it's usually only a matter of minutes before it comes into play in most of my conversations with friends.

Who knew taking a dump would be such a taboo topic in life?  I just don't see what the big deal is.  Why is having a discussion about someone's defecating habits considered rude or inappropriate?

I mean, it's just like everything else in life.  If you don't talk about it, how do you know if what you're doing is normal or healthy? When meeting new people, I honestly can't think of a better ice breaker than talking about feces.

One of my BFF's who shall remain nameless (Shannon) and I have the best conversations about droppin mud.  I swear sometimes we are one click away from taking pics and sending them to each other.  If people only knew the extent of what we do and say just to make each other crack up.  I have practically pissed myself on many occasions just imagining the visuals alone - "dude, I just took the most epic shit ever and had to wipe 10 times, all in the single occupant bathroom in the lobby of my doctor's office."  I love it.  Her husband thinks we are wretched and I am more than happy to reinforce that opinion.

Anyway, the book...I'm working on it.  Each chapter will be a story about my 40 years of waste production.  I'M KIDDING.  Sorta.  It will be about some of the more absurd but totally hilarious (usually alcohol induced) events that have occurred over the past 20 years of my life...and hold on kids.  There are some doozies!!

Speaking of doozies...courtesy flushing should be mandatory.  Women are disgusting and most of them eat dead possums for lunch then eventually release them back into the wild. But not me, because...

HAVE A LOVELY WEEKEND!

Photoshop

I recently took a Photoshop class.  The teacher was kind of a douche - impatient and made you feel stupid for asking questions - but overall it was a really good experience.

We only learned about 5 of the tools but hey, if you ask me, Photoshop is about as friendly as a cornered possum.  I couldn't handle any more than those 5 tools anyway.

So, when I came back to work I decided to put my new skills to the test and create an extra special document for my friends and family to remember me by.  Well, wah lah...this is what I came up with.

I know, I know...but I just can't help it!  I love making an ass out of myself and sharing it with the world.  I really, truly do.  I love making fun of myself and laughing at myself.  I'm not easily embarrassed and my "appropriate" filter is holier than our judicial system.

I will swear til the day I die that laughter is the best medicine for most things.

Speaking of medicine...I'm on the brain vitamin and the ADD medicine and I haven't had any booze in 3 weeks and I feel INCREDIBLE.  Refraining from being a broke, drunken mess hasn't been difficult at all.  Go figure.

My Brain is Broken

Yeah, my brain is broken. How you say? Well, for one I have MCI - Mild Cognitive Impairment. That's the official name for CRS - Can't Remember Shit. I also have Adult ADD.

I've always had a bad memory and a hard time concentrating, especially in school.  As an incentive, my Dad used to pay me for getting A's - he never had to shell out a dime.  It was useless because my brain was doing the best it could, but the best it could do was shitola.  I remember (I remember!) my friends would never have to study for tests and I would kill myself trying to put all the mumbo jumbo in my head together. The only area I excelled in was English, and even though I still made crappy grades in honors classes, I was at least retaining some of that information. Maybe so I could write this blog. I never even went to college as I knew I would struggle to pay attention in class. The booze and drugs would have been no problem for me though.  

Over the past year or so I noticed that all of it seemed to be getting worse. I would have conversations with my friends and completely forget the conversations. I went to the movies with my BFF and then 3 days later asked her if she saw the movie. WTF right? I know. I was easily overwhelmed at work, unable to finish one task without starting another - same with cleaning my house - start cleaning the kitchen, go to the bathroom to get something, then start cleaning the bathroom, and so on and so on. Of course, this whole revelation brought on some anxiety for me...trepidation if you will. I started to want to do, see, and know less so I wouldn't forget it or I wouldn't get stressed out about it and that is no way to live. On top of all of it, I have an Aunt that passed away last year from the effects of Alzheimer's. She had it for about 12 years and it was devastating.

So, last week I paid my first visit ever to a psychiatrist and he diagnosed me with MCI (I already knew I had ADD from a diagnosis made about 8 years ago) and thus came the harsh reality of what was happening to me and how some of my lifestyle choices were doing major, irreversible damage to my brain, aiding in the steady decline of my mind. The cause of the disease itself is rather simple - my brain slacks at absorbing Folate and B vitamins and I was born this way. Okay, cool. But can you guess what the major, self controlled contributor to my brain rot is? ALCOHOL. Alcohol is killing my brain cells. I drink too much at one time, I black out, and when I do so my brain blacks out with me, causing some serious spoilage to the few remaining cells in there. Who would have thought that 20 years of getting totally shit faced and forgetting most of the night would be a bad thing? Oh, and come to find out I'm a "binge drinker" - meaning I don't drink during the week but I sure do make up for it on the weekends.

Needless to say, finding all this out was a real eye opener for me and scared me quite a bit. When someones says "signs of pre-dementia" to you - unless you're a total idiot, you pay attention. What I'm happy to report is that the condition can be greatly improved with a "brain vitamin" and an anti-depressant to control the ADD and anxiety, both of which I have started to take and am already feeling the positive effects from. YAY!!

Here's a shocker - I am avoiding alcohol for a while. I've always thought it would be really difficult to stop drinking (or cut back at least) but now I'm convinced it won't be, although it's only been a week...ask me how I feel next week. 

Overall, I am much more relaxed and at ease with the whole situation. Knowing what's wrong and knowing that there are fixes are two of the most settling feelings you can have. I'm grateful beyond words for modern day medicine and couldn't be happier about my sober future. Okay, that's probably a partial lie but let's just go with it for now.

Speaking of sober...it's Labor Day weekend and I don't have to worry about a DUI, a hangover, or breaking my bank account. That is good shit right there.

Happy Labor Day!

Driving while Sandwiching

Yesterday morning I was on my way to work driving down the highway and I noticed the guy in the car in front of me reach over and pull a piece of bread out of a loaf.  So of course, I became totally fixed on what this cat was up to.   I then watched him pull a second piece of bread out of the loaf, all the while looking down at his lap, doing what I can only imagine is making a fucking sandwich!  Can you believe that shit?  Making a sandwich while driving 65 mph!  I was floored.

I then began to wonder what kind of sandwich it was.  What would be the easiest sandwich to make while operating a vehicle?  PB & J?  Nah, too many jars.  Bologna with mayo?  Turkey and ham?  Was there cheese involved?

WTF is the world coming to when someone thinks it's okay to make a sandwich in the car? Now, I would be a complete LIAR if I said I didn't text or put on make up or mess with my iPod while I'm driving.  I know.  Terrible.  I just think a sandwich is a bit ridiculous.  Making a margarita would have been way more acceptable.

And then, just to show how awesome this guy really was, he did the "what the fuck?" hand gesture out his window to the FL Highway Patrol cars parked on the side of the road! Again, another gasp comes from my mouth as I'm watching this total jack ass be, well, a total jack ass.  I thought for sure Johnny Law was gonna come after him and give him a ticket for being so angry and then quite possibly get a free meal from the whole deal.

Speaking of free meals...I'm going to Dave and Busters tomorrow for a work event and I'm going to eat all the free food and drink all the free booze I can get my greedy little hands on. I'm also going to beat House of Dead.  I did it last year and I'm going to do it again. I am quite excited about it really.

Sinus Surgery

Have you ever heard someone say "I'd rather have my sinuses scraped"?  It doesn't conjure up thoughts of fields of daisies and bunnies with an open bar in the middle of it, now does it. No.  It makes you think wow, if the alternative is worse than having your sinuses scraped, it must be really bad.  


Well guess what?  I'm having my sinuses scraped in 2 days.  What in the fucking hell you say? I know, I know.  But it's a necessary thing.  Trust me.  I cannot breathe.  I haven't been able to breathe for about 2 - 3 years and it's getting worse.  I've become one of those nasty mouth breathers when I sleep...not to mention a snorer, a jumper, and a major gas passer. Well that last part really doesn't have anything to do with my sinuses but I thought I would throw it in there for shits and giggles.


Sleep Apnea is a real fucking peach of an ailment too, let me tell you.  That's where you stop breathing and you wake yourself up all night, usually with a ridiculously loud snort and an even more ridiculously violent jerk that scares the shit out of you and anything in the near vicinity of you.  I'm constantly exhausted.  The bags under my eyes could give a 90 year old woman a run for her money, not to mention the dark circles.

So, needless to say, while I do have a bit of anxiety about the surgery and the week after, which I will spend with stints and packing in my nose, it thrills me to know that my life will dramatically improve in just about a week from now.  I'm also extremely grateful that I have the ability/opportunity to get this surgery.  So many people would just have to suffer through it, perhaps for the rest of their lives, which is incredibly sad to me.  And let me tell you, not being able to breathe at 100% capacity is a tough hand to play.  


Speaking of hands...I think my fingers are still growing.  Weird, huh.  They're slowly starting to resemble tentacles.  I wonder if they have a surgery for that?

Fassy

So I've recently become obsessed with the actor Michael Fassbender.  I know, weird for a 40 year old woman, but I don't really give a shit to be honest.  The man is beautiful and I love his work.


I noticed him in X-Men - First Class, but didn't think much about him.  Then I saw him in the 2011 remake of Jane Eyre...all 20th century looking with crazy chops, unruly hair, and a white ruffly shirt. 

Don't ask me why his part in that movie was a pivotal turning point in my life, bringing on the mass internal hysteria that comes when you can't stop thinking about someone, but it was.  I found pictures of him and saved them to every electronic device I own.  I searched YouTube for video after video of him and I watched them over and over again like a raging lunatic.  I think my friends were getting a little worried about me, although they enjoyed it when I sent them beautiful pictures of him.

And then I found the messiah of all his films...Shame.  He plays a sex addict named Brandon and his unit is the star of the movie.  It is a spectacular film but it's very dark.  I was literally on the edge of my bed, I mean, my seat the entire movie.  Everyone should see it.  It was such an eye opener for me.  I had no idea sex addiction was so widespread.


Speaking of widespread...I had another rendezvous with the boy from the bathroom.  It was much nicer than being in the john, even though that is a fond but somewhat shaky memory. And although public debauchery is one of my favorite things in life, in some instances, there really is no place like home.


Happy weekend!

When Comfort Overtakes Vanity

Okay, so, a couple of Saturdays ago I was out and about with friends, having a fabulous time consuming way too much alcohol during daylight hours, when I had the pleasure of partaking in an extremely unexpected but most appreciated tryst with a hot boy in the bathroom.  This is not usually my style, but I'm a very open minded women...and this guy OOZED fun. Unfortunately, because this is not how my usual drunken Saturday's escalate, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to encounter.


I looked really cute with my white/khaki striped knee length cotton skirt and matching khaki v-neck tee on.  I love to color coordinate my entire outfit so I had matching roos (that's undaroos, pantaroos, panties, undies...) on too.  The cotton kind.  Hanes.  White.  Do you see where I'm going with this?  I also hadn't shaved my legs in a while as I am gleefully single...

The only thing that saved me in the slightest, and I mean the slightest sense, was that they were at least boy cut and not high waisted briefs, which I am not too embarrassed to admit to owning.  So when this cat touched my legs and got a glimpse of my roos, well, you can imagine, can't you.  And yes, he did call me out on it all too.  I was pissing myself laughing and so was he.  All I can say is thank God he was a) really drunk himself, b) a total hoot and had an awesome sense of humor, and c) was way more interested in my top half, since we were in the bathroom in a bar, ya know.  We were limited to what we could do...although it was quite an adventure.


Speaking of adventure...looks like I'll be taking a trip Walmart to buy sexy underwear. There's something very wrong with that sentence, don't you agree?


Happy Independence Day!