I’ve got nothing but shit.

I’ve not had much going on lately.  I’m in kind of a holding pattern waiting to see if the new meds work or if they make me into a raging psychopath (I’ve been getting a little bitchy lately so I’m starting to worry).
However…

The other day my lovely granddaughter M was running around naked.  She’s almost 15 months old but still has the super chubby baby leg rolls and chubby tummy and little chubby baby cheeks and only a little hair so she looks much younger than she is.  Basically she’s adorable naked and she loves to have her diaper off so we indulge her before bath time.  She was over by my husband and I saw she had something in her hand headed toward her mouth (everything goes in her mouth).  I ran over to her saying, “Punkin, what have you got?”  I held out my hand.  She stopped her hand traveling to her mouth and placed what was in her hand into mine.  It was bright playdoh green, lumpy, hard and warm.  I looked at it confused unable to grasp what she could have gotten a hold of until it finally dawned on me.
I said out loud, “It’s poop.”

My husband looked at me and goes, “What?”

“It’s poop.”  I said again and held me hand out palm up with the piece of poop laying in it like an offering.  With my other hand I grabbed M’s hand so she could not put her hand in her mouth.

“Ewww...” was my husband’s contribution.

I started yelling for my daughter because now that I was trying to keep M from putting her hand in her mouth she was determined to do it and was pulling against me as hard as she could.

My daughter comes wandering in from the kitchen.  “It’s poop.” And I hold it out again.  I guess I was hoping someone would take it from me but no.  She gets the baby and I go to get rid of my smelly hand companion.

Z, my other granddaughter, comes running over, “I want to see.”  So I stop my bathroom trek and turn around with the poop still balanced on my palm so she can admire her sister’s work.

Finally I get to the bathroom and dump the poop and scrub my hand.

Such is my life.  Exciting, isn’t it?

Braaainnnssss

I’ve not been feeling very funny lately or even slightly, remotely entertaining.  My meds got lazy slacker like and quit doing their job so instead of feeling witty and engaging I’ve been feeling kind of zombie-like.  Well, what I imagine a zombie would feel like.  Having never been one I can only assume.  I mean I feel kind of emotionally distant/dead not that I want to eat brains.  I think brains would be kind of chewy and possibly hard to swallow, kind of like a raw oyster except less snotty like.  Please do not get me started on intestines….I mean its bad enough to eat sausage casing, can you imagine eating it when it hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned first,  that would just be ewwww. Another symptom of my meds playing the slacker kid who lives in the basement smoking pot and playing video games is that I can’t focus.  But you never would have guessed that right?

So now I have to start this long, complicated process of weaning myself off of one med while starting to take another and I have to take pills at certain times of days for so many days and who does the doctor think I am?  I can barely remember the way to work, how I am going to take these pills correctly?  You all are going to see me on the news where I chopped someone up and probably ate their intestines because I know I’m going to get my dosage wrong and go mental.

I thought about telling the doctor to just put me in the hospital so they can make sure I am monitored while going through this but then I thought, “No…then everyone will know I’m crazy.” Because, really I’ve been keeping it under wraps to the general public so well.   I just really don’t want the people I  work with to know I have issues.

But I can let you guys know because I don’t work with you and you won’t tell anyone, right? RIGHT?

Yes, I suck...

I have not blogged in a while and this is bad because at the beginning of the year I had planned to blog every day.  Big major fail on that one.  I am giving myself a pass on that though because I’m bat shit crazy.  Okay, I’m not quite that crazy…I can still kind of function out in public.  I have a job and everything and I can sometimes go to the grocery store.  Sometimes I can…but sometimes when I get there my heart starts to pound and I can’t breathe and this screaming starts in my head and then I have to leave.  Being around people is hard for me.  Fortunately at work I’m in a block of offices with only one other person and my office is the last one on a dead end hallway so I don’t have to see other people much.  Yay for me!  I have been going to therapy and seeing a psychiatrist to try to get my meds right.  We  thought we found something that would work but now my insurance won’t pay for it (and I can’t afford $500 a month for meds) so back to the drawing board.  That’s okay though…I know we’ll find something that will work and I will be what passes for normal for me again.  Normal being sci-fi, zombie, vampire (but not sparkly vampires…yuck), gaming, comic, loving and completely different from everyone in the area I live.  Do you know no one except my family around here has a zombie apocalypse emergency plan?  Really what kind of people are these?  They also listen to country music…which is just plain wrong.  My husband wants to move back to NYC.  He believes there we will find people more like us.  I, however, think we just need to go back to our home planet

My first blogging award (could be like a chain letter but I don't care)

I got an award on June 5.  Yes, I know I'm slow.  I've not been blogging lately and so I suck but maybe not so bad...you know, award and all.  So here are the rules :

1. Thank the person who gave you the award.
2. Share ten things about yourself
3. Pass the award along to 10 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic!
4. Contact the bloggers and let them know you've picked them for the award.

Thank you so much Daffodil Campbell for my very first blogger award.  You rock.  Seriously, you do.  I think I might love you.  Too much?

Ten things about myself..hmmmm....

1)  I hate all things Twilight with a passion.  I want to take those sparkly vampires and that stupid girl and run splintery stakes up their butts.

2)  I love most all other vampire stuff though...Anita Blake, Sookie Stackhouse, Buffy, Betsey Queen of the Undead, etc.

3) I want to LARP with all of my being, which is something that makes me the brunt of many jokes in my family.  I would like to be a mystic wood elf.

4) I greatly fear the zombie apocalypse and every now and then will find myself on survivalist web sites planning how we would fortify ourselves and survive.

5) I don't make friends easily.

6) I cried when Buffy, Stargate SG-1  and Star Trek the Next Generation went off the air.

7) My dream anniversary present is spending the weekend at the Renaissance Faire.

8) I have been writing a Stargate / Buffy crossover for three years now and I'm still not done.

9) We sometimes take in homeless people to live with us.

10) I have a vase full of dead flowers on my desk because I think they look cool.

Who shall I give this to?  I'm going hunting for new bloggers this weekend and I'll update this with their names.

My very first award given goes to:
roxanesdays

#2 chillmamachill

I think I'm still in a bit of shock so I'm sorry if this is incoherent

I was around 14 years old walking through my house singing Karma Chameleon.  Our TV had been left on a concert movie called Black and Blue.  I had never heard of the bands involved and was not interested because let's face it...it was not Culture Club.  But then I wandered through the living room and a man's voice literally brought me to my knees.  As I knelt in front of the TV with my mouth hanging open my world was changed.  I quickly became obsessed with the small man with the huge voice.  I saved every cent of my allowance and bought Black Sabbath albums.  Then when I found out he had formed his own band, Dio albums joined the collection and then Rainbow and then I was mail ordering Elf albums from England.  I collected every article I could find and papered the walls of my room in posters and pictures ripped from magazines of him.  Through him I found a love of heavy metal that exists to this day.  He opened me up to a whole world of music that I would never have come across (I live in an area where country music is way too popular).  Dio was my very first concert and it was the best.  I saw him in concert one other time and I kick myself for all the times I could have gone but missed for some reason or another.  I wish I could thank him for the beauty he brought into my life.  I wish I could see him in concert just one more time.

Godspeed Ronnie James Dio.  You will be missed.

Don't be hating...whatever I do what I want

I’m supposed to be working but I decided a blog post was more the thing.  This is the things I hate episode…

1. Bras that hook in front.  For some reason the last time I bought bras every freaking one I bought fastens in the front even though I knew I hated that.  That’s what I get for bra shopping online with my best friend vodka.  My problem with bras that hook in front is this…whenever I am out in public, with no warning, in the worst possible place that fucker will unhook and set the girls free.  Now I like the feeling of my boobs running free as much as the next woman but they are large and rather floppy.  I’m reminded of that teacher on South Park, Choksondik with her nipples hanging down out of the bottom of her sweater.  Yep, that would be me.
2. People who stand at stop lights and collect money for charity.  I can hear the whole two people who read this booing me now but hear me out.  I hate this because I have to give them money.  They don’t make me and I know I’m welcome to drive on by but I just can’t.  If they feel passionately enough about something to stand in the hot sun or the rain and collect money for it then by god I’m going to give them something (many times the last bit of money I have).  Even if it is for a cause that I care nothing about (Save the super slimy worm that climbs up people’s noses…well maybe I wouldn’t give to that one.  I’d be curled up in a corner somewhere with my hand over my nose shivering in horror that such a thing exists.) I will still give.  I hate to think that someone is suffering somewhere and I didn’t stop.  The part I really hate is when I have no money with me at all and I don’t see them standing there until it’s too late to detour and I have to drive through…then I spend all day feeling like an ass.  I hate that.
3. Reality TV.  I don’t watch American Idol or Dancing with the Stars or The Bachelor or The Biggest Loser or Let’s see how many foreign objects I can fit in my anus (That’s not a show?  Really?  They televise everything else…I’d think that would be a hit.).  My own life has enough drama that I don’t need to tune into other people’s.  Though I will tell you a secret.  We’re all friends here, right?  You won’t tell anyone?  Okay, here it goes…the real reason I don’t watch reality TV is…I’m an addict.  Going back to the America’s Next Top Model debacle of 2008…if I start watching I can’t stop.  It sucks me in and I start to care about these people.  I find myself rearranging my schedule so I can watch it when it’s on.  I watch the extra videos online.  I try to find out what the people are doing after the show is over.  It’s horrible and I felt dirty all the time so I quit cold turkey.  Though every now and then I still feel the urge.
4. Girl Scout cookies.  Actually I love me some girl scout cookies, what I hate is that they are only available once a year.  What’s up with that shit?  Offer perfect sugary goodness and then yank it away.  Every year I tell myself, “hey I’ll buy extra this year and freeze them and then I can have girl scout cookies whenever I want.”  Yeah right…I just end up eating that many more of the damn things in the same amount of time and still no cookies for the rest of the year.  Stupid Girl Scouts.
5. Facebook.  I use Facebook, most of my “friends” are family or people I knew from school.  But with the exception of my family, do I really care how someone I haven’t seen in literally twenty years and I didn’t like that much to begin with is doing?  The only posts I seem to care about are my family stuff and the few bloggers I also follow on Facebook (I loves me the bloggers I follow…they are all wonderful).  So, you ask, why don’t I unfriend those high school people?  That is a good question thanks for asking.  The reason is because as soon as I unfriend someone I will run into them in the grocery store even though it has not happened in the whole twenty years we’ve lived in the same town.  Karma works that way, you know.  Karma is kind of a mean bitch.
6. Getting old.  This is a no brainer, right?  I can’t color my hair the color I want without people going, “You work in an office, you can’t have blue hair.”  I had to take out all the piercings in my left ear (I had eight) because my ear started to cauliflower (stupid cauliflower ear…and no you can’t see it.  Freaks.)  I had to take out my nipple ring because of surgery and now I’m too embarrassed to go get it repierced because I’m a grandmother for god’s sake and I don’t want to be one of those pathetic old people who dress like they’re still sixteen (what do piercings and clothing have to do with each other?  Why absolutely nothing…it’s like you’re being purposely dense).  I also hate the fact that I ache all the time like I did some strenuous exercise when I really haven’t moved in two days.  If I’m going to ache like I’ve been having wild sex then I better have had some wild sex (Hubby…looking at you here). 
7. Daddy long legs.  They are a creepy head with legs.  What kind of thing has legs growing out of its head?  When I was a child and running barefoot around the farm (yes, I grew up on a farm…a pig farm) I stepped on a daddy long legs and it was squashed on the bottom of my foot and I couldn’t get it off and I was traumatized.  No one would help me they just laughed at me. I still have not recovered from the horror.
8. Worms.  Any kind and all kinds of worms are super creepy.  I don’t care how good they are for the soil and that they feed the pretty birdies.  They are slimy and gross.  Yuck, I say, yuck.  This is why on the few occasions I’ve fished I’ve used artificial bait or I don’t fish (I also won’t take a fish off the hook…fish = also slimy).
9. Sad movies.  I cannot stand anything that makes me cry.  Especially sad movies about children.  They make me want to hunt the writers down and beat them to death with a pointy, thorned stick.  *Whack* How dare you even think something like that about beautiful babies *Whack*  Yes, sad movies make me crazy violent.  I still have not recovered from the saddest movie ever “What Dreams May Come”.  If you don’t think that is the saddest movie ever you have a heart of stone and I stab you with my pointy stick.
10. Movies about animals.  This goes back to not liking sad movies (really these should have been together but you know what?  I’m still sleepy and I couldn’t think of ten things so they got separated…deal with it).  I cannot watch a movie where an animal is hurt or dare I say it killed.  I have never seen Bambi.  When my family watched Ol’ Yeller I spent the whole time in the bathroom with my hands over my years going “Lalalalala”.  The only way I will even watch an animal movie at all is if someone else watches it first and lets me know it’s okay.  God help them if they lie to me because they think it’s funny.  I’m on the edge, people.  Expose me to animal trauma at your own peril.

Procrastination sucks balls

I came home from work sick today.  I have a monster living on the outside of my uterus and it attacks once a month.  The only way I survive is vicodin washed down with vodka  water (kidding, Hubby...I'd never do that).  So even though I was coming home I thought I'd get some work done.  I have this monstrous pile of paper in my office that I try to ignore.  Sometimes it jumps on my back and attacks me but I always manage to beat it back down.  I hate filing.  I pretty much refuse to do but since I don't have someone to do it for me the pile of paper just keeps growing.  I thought I'd just throw all this paper into a box and organize it real quick and then throw it into the filing cabinet when I get back to work.  However, I horribly misjudged the amount of filing I had let slide.  I have been working on organizing the paperwork for over three hours now and I'm still only half done.  I have stacks of paper covering my bed and all over my bedroom floor.  Now instead of finishing the mess up so its done I've wandered off to check my email and my twitter and somehow Sims 3 started up on my laptop.   I keep looking at the pile and looking away in horror.  I feel so bad I don't want to do it but if I felt good I wouldn't want to do it either.  I wonder if anyone would notice if I just burnt it?