Fat vs Thin vs Bottle vs Breast vs ...?...

There's a lot of speculation out there about feeding a baby too soon, with a spoon, and feeding it rice/oatmeal/etc.  They say it causes obesity and diabetes, but where are they getting this information?  IF they are getting it from looking at our generation, and even our parents' generation, it doesn't correlate.  We're obese/diabetic because of our current lifestyles, not because of what we ate 30+ years ago! Genetics does play a role; as I've said before, my brother and I were fed exactly the same way as babies and yet he turned out slim & fit whereas I'm morbidly obese.  His parents were small and thin, my parents were average and stocky. 

I even read an article just now about a "study" they did on 92 spoon-fed babies vs 63 breast-fed babies.  10 of the spoon babies were overweight, and 9 of the breast babies were overweight.  First of all, they clearly stated that all the children were within a "normal healthy" weight range - so these "overweight" children were probably just the top 10 and top 9 of their groups.  Second, 10 out of 92 (10.87%) is significantly less than 9 out of 63 (14.24%), which to ME would indicate that the breast-fed children were actually the ones who had a "problem"!  In fact, I have a friend whose son was born 10 days after 4L, and is considerably larger than him.  

Due to the complications from my C-section, I only nursed 4L for about 10 days, while her son has been nursed the entire time.  Using that as anecdotal evidence, in combination with the aforementioned "study", I'd say breast-fed babies do tend to be larger - and it makes sense!  They get all the nutrients, calories, antibodies, etc etc etc EVERYTHING from the mother, and who knows what she's eating (I don't mean my friend here, cuz she is healthy, but I mean other mothers that I don't know!).  Spoon-fed babies are fed specific amounts at a time, leaving no question as to how many calories they are actually getting and from where those calories are coming.

Obviously, I'm not a doctor or scientist, and I only took one nutrition course in college.  That being said, I do read a lot, on both sides of the argument (whatever the argument may be!), and I have my own experiences to draw from.  Personally, and I know others who agree, I think that nobody really, truly knows wtf is going on with babies, and it's all just speculation.  Thirty years ago my parents were told to put me on my stomach to sleep, along with millions of other babies, and we all lived.  4L HATED sleeping on his back, and now that he's old enough to roll around on his own, he sleeps 99% of the night on his stomach.  Babies who sleep on their backs still die from SIDS, because nobody knows what causes SIDS. I would be willing to make a bet that in less than ten years, we'll be back to formula is the best and sleeping on the stomach is correct.  I can picture it now, doctors telling insanely obese/diabetic mothers that their milk is just too diseased/fatty/diabetic/etc to feed to a newborn, and that formula would be safer. Right now there's a big push for ADHD medications/diagnoses, and I think that in less than ten years the medical field will agree that it's lazy parenting because they'll have moved onto the next thing that Big Pharm wants to hawk.

...And that's my blogpost for the morning.  Now we're off to baby laptime at the library, cuz one thing is for sure- books will never be bad! (Unless you're CS Lewis in Fahrenheit 451... ok, gotta stop there!)

The Monkeys Chose Cocaine.

Read more about it here.

And I understand why they did. If I had the means, I'd choose cocaine too. I am an addict. I would love to have mounds and piles and bathtubs full of cocaine just for my own personal use. But I don't, and that's a good thing. I keep myself away from it because I know that if I even do one little bump, it will all be over. That's how it happened last time - one bump turned into four, turned into a line, turned into fat rails, turned into three 8-balls a weekend. Terrible. I don't want to risk losing my job again, I don't want to OD again. No thank you. But it's so difficult. When things get stressful, I long for the feeling of numbness, the burn when the powder hits my sinus cavities (sounds gross, I know, but it's awesome), the notion of being the wisest person in my area and having such profound insight into whatever music happens to be playing at the time. Save for the physical downsides, such as acquiring perforations on the inside of my nasal passage and the awful disgusting and totally grotesque runny/stuffy nose that happens on the come-down... cocaine is perfect.
But that's another thing, I can't stand the runny/stuffy nose. I fucking hate it. My allergies are kicking my ass right now, and I am dying over here with this fucking shit, blowing my nose every 10 minutes, not being able to inhale through my nose, etc etc etc. WHY on EARTH would I do this to myself purposely? I wouldn't - not anymore.

All this is spawned from a TV show I watched the other day about drugs on the History Channel. Damn monkeys.

Warning.

I'm going to be disgusting and somewhat racist, just so you know. I'm very very angry. There's no excuse for my words, but I'm just so angry that I can't help it. Sorry. If you think I might offend you then don't even bother reading. I can't fucking take people anymore. Sorry.

First, a video.


Now, for the shit.

Well, obviously the cop took my driver's license. However, according to my attorney, I can go to the BMV and get a duplicate copy or a temporary state ID. So that is what I tried to do Saturday afternoon and this morning. Both times I was turned down. They couldn't give me a reason. Saturday I had to deal with these goddamn spics, I thought I was going to go off on them in Spanish, since they could barely speak English as it were. Why the fuck does the government hire assholes like that to work in their places?! When is the last time you had a real American wait on you? Fuck. This morning I went in all early, fucking 08:15, and these goddamn Negroes fucking park in two spots so my mom has to drop me off. I walk in, the woman just stands there, so I walk around her since she isn't moving and I take a number. My number is called right away, and I go up, and this bitch is like "Well I was here first but she walked in front of me and took a number" to which the fucking emo employee replies that she needs to just take a number. Then he proceeds to piss me off and I want to grab his too-long bangs off his face and rip them from his gay little head. I hate the government sometimes. So then I'm all pissed off, and apparently my mom thinks this is a good time to tell me what a fuck up I am. She wants to go to Bob Evans but I have no appetite so I get dropped off at fucking 08:30 at work. FUCK.

The good things that happened this weekend are as follows: had fun Friday night with my friends, even tho Dooger took me home and tried to fuck me, but I wouldn't let him, got new glasses on Saturday for my birthday, even tho they won't be here til next week, had fun with my friends on Saturday night, and got to see my pretty Psyndi and Stromp, even tho I wasn't really drunk and I wanted to be, Sunday I got a delicious mariachi pizza from Donatos, even tho I had no one to share it with and the cats ate 1/2 a piece each (it has jalapenos on it!)

Now, a video.


So, I'm still busted up over Poke. I don't know why. I'm so fucking angry with him for how he left me, so pissed that he is being so cold and mean to me for no goddamn reason, and so disgusted that he is fucking that stupid whore. For real. Everyone is like "oh just fuck him, he wasn't worth it anyway, etc." but it's not that easy. If I ever see him, especially if he's with her, I'm going to bash her head against the concrete and slap him across his goddamn mouth with my bloody palm. (Yeah, I wish I could really do that, I'm too much of a pussy to try it and I'm already facing 3 days in jail for this ovi, so I never would, and you all know it. But it's a pleasant thought.)

Yet another video.


The disgusting thing that happened to me that was actually quite pleasant is not for the faint of heart. I really shouldn't even talk about it, but it was such a relief that I have to share. So, I have nice cute feet, and I used to regularly get pedicures. I haven't had one in about nine months though! My toes are cute and don't have jaggedy nails or anything, but this one nail on my left big toe was kinda hurting. So I'm like, looking at it all close up and shit, and I'm like why the fuck does this hurt so much?! Turns out that my cute lil nail had been growing back into my skin. I couldn't stand the pain, it hurt just to brush against it, so I busted out the clippers and the little scraper/cuticle stick thing, and I went to it. Aaaah, such relief and instantly no pain when I finally got my nail out from under my skin. OMG. I could walk without having to lift up my big toe! There was a lot of blood though, so much that I really almost yakked. But I didn't mind, I was fucking thrilled that the pain was gone. I'll have to keep an eye on it to make sure that doesn't happen again.

The last video.

Another reason!

Yet one more reason why I'm glad for the following decisions:

• Moving
• Getting off cocaine
• Eliminating TM from my life
• Spending my money on beer and not strippers

Click.

Then, observe the following images:


This is my old place, 30 seconds by car and 5 minutes by foot from Dockside Dolls, where TM and I used to hang out, get coke from strippers, and blah blah blah.



This is my new place, 15 minutes by car and not even an option by foot. THANK GOD.

The Sweet Smell of Ether

I got a forward the other day that really made me laugh out loud. This was one of the "watch out girls it's happening all over the US" kind of forwards that warns females of the impending doom awaiting them outside their local shopping mall or grocery store. It said that there are cases where a couple of guys would approach a lady, using the line that they are marketing a new brand of perfume. These evildoers have a paper for the woman to sniff, to sample the perfume scent if you will, but *shock* the paper does not have a sample of perfume on it - it's soaked in ether and one sniff will make you pass out and they will take your wallet and your purse and possibly rape and kill you.

Ok.

I used to do a lot of cocaine, as you all know, and I must tell you that if one sniff of ether makes someone pass out, I wouldn't have become an addict. Cocaine is generally cut with ether (it's what makes the coke taste kinda bitey) or kerosene (that's why sometimes it will have a yellowish tint to it), at least the coke I usually did was cut with either of those two. It takes a lot (not as much you'd think) of ether, about 18 mililiters per one gram of cocaine (not an actual figure, just an estimate) to make a good cut. Not that I would know, I just looked up my info on Google. It just makes me think of how pathetic these forwards are, and I'd like to know who the bastard is that writes them and sends them out in the first place. Whoever it is should be shot - not shot to be killed but shot like in the leg or something so they will learn their lesson. Yes, their lesson.

On a more interesting note, I had the strangest dream the other night. It tops the most recent ones even. I dreamt that I was dressed up like a fairy, and I was 100 lbs lighter. I was trying to get into this store, but they were closed, so I tried to break in because apparently I really really needed something. My attempt was unsuccessful, so I ran away. I realised the security guards were chasing me, so I cut off into some woods and found a large house in the middle of a clearing. There was a driveway and gravel and stuff, and cars, so I knew it wasn't abandoned. I climbed up the drainpipe and heard the security guards behind me. I had nowhere to hide because the roof was wide open of course, so I slinked (slunk?) over to this ledge that was about four stories off the ground. It had decorative gargoyles on it so I just laid on my side in a pose to try and blend in. Suddenly the guards are in the driveway and yelling for me. Who should come out of the house but SS. She looks different than in real life, younger and a little bit heavier (not fat just less bony and boyish) and her hair is more blonde. She talks to the guards and says she hasn't seen anyone, meanwhile I'm having a cow because I'm afraid that any second now I will fall off this skinny ass ledge. The guards finally leave and she goes back into the house. I somehow get down, and she's waiting right there at the bottom for me. She doesn't recognize me at all! We go into the house and she gets me a Pepsi, and for some reason decides to give me a tour of this gigantic house. We walk all over the place, and I tell you what this house is over five thousand square feet. It started out as a tiny farmhouse, but over the years about seven additions have been put on. Regardless, the whole place is falling apart. The carpet is worn down, the walls have holes, there are beams in the ceiling that are exposed and not in the rustic lodge kind of way either. We go up to the attic where her old craggly grandmother (in real life I don't even know if her grandmother is alive) is playing on the internet, games, chat rooms, etc. Apparently the grandma never goes downstairs and leaves through the window, using the ledge that I was leaning on as a walkway. It was nuts. SS and I go back downstairs to a sort of living room area, and her dad and mom come in (not her real life parents just dream parents.) They are dressed up for a costume party, and the dad is going as an elderly mall walker on Viagra (complete with inflatible erection) and the mom is going as Mother Earth. It was absolutely ridiculous. Jms comes in and looks at me funny, and swears he's seen me somewhere before, eventually deciding that he probably knew me when he lived in Florida. I'm trying to keep a straight face through all of this because SS is being so nice to me, not even realising that it's actually me but one hundred pounds thinner.

I woke up feelings weird but with more motivation to lose this damn weight.

Last night SL and I went to karaoke, and it was so fun. The Rumplemintz girls were there and we each had two free shots and got some free light up shot glasses. That was awesome. We played trivia and I did so great! I was so proud of myself because usually I suck at trivia. But I rocked. I sang awesomely too. I just love going out and having fun. We got in a stupid fight when we got home, over fucking pizza of all things, but the main reason why I was irritated with him is because now that I know he's not from Italy, it really grates on my nerves when he acts like he's the end all be all of Italian anything. Mozzerella isn't pronounced "Mots-er-el-ah" it's "Mootz-er-ell" because "that's how he was raised." I guess it's just hard for me to believe. We were talking about school lunch (I have no idea why) and how the pizza is rectangular. He called it Sicilian style. I told him he was full of shit, because it's simply dough with tomatoes and cheese and pepperoni cubes. It's barely pizza at all, let alone Sicilian style. Then he said Sicilian means spicy sauce or something like that. I said, again, full of shit because school pizza sauce had barely any flavor. Then he just started in like he usually does about how he knows everything about everything even remotely related to Italy/Italian things, and I just tried to fall asleep figuring he would ramble until he realised I was out. Unfortunately he asked me some questions and I answered, slurred because I had had about six beers and because I was falling asleep. Then he accused me of sounding like SS's neice so I literally kicked him out of the bed and made him sleep downstairs. Everything is fine today. It was just a stupid retarded fight, but it wouldn't have even meant anything if he hadn't said one of the meanest things he could ever say. I'm not a hillbilly, I'm not illiterate, I don't have poor grammar and spelling - I'm nothing like that family and it really hurt that he would even think it, let alone say it. Oh well, I'm over it. It's not like I haven't said mean things before, but damn that was hurtful.

SL finally started his job on Monday, I'm so happy. He gets to wear a white coat and a nametag! I'm so so so thrilled. It will mean an extra $1,000+ a month for the next couple months until he completes the certification, and after that it will probably be more like $3,000 or more per month. This is just great. I can tell he likes the job too. He seems to be happier, and I know I am, because now he's contributing to the household. Congratulations SL!

Over the weekend SL and I had to go to these lame demonstrations, but it was worth it because in return we recieved two free, all-expenses paid (except airfare and some tax) trips to the Bahamas, Dominican Republic, and/or Mexico, and one 35mm Kodak camera with a lifetime supply of free film with discounted developing rates. It fucking rocks. Now we just have to save up like $2,500! Ha. We have one year to use the one vacation and the other one never expires. Hell fucking yeah bitches.

Saturday SL and I went to the mall and stopped at Ashcroft & Oak because they had all these balloons and stuff out front. I saw a beautiful ring that I wanted for only $99 (normally like $159 or something) and SL bought it for me. He also bought himself a chain and a little white gold cross. Yippy! Don't worry, he used his store credit card, not some money that we could have spent on something better! We picked up my ring this evening and it's beautiful. White gold band with a small flower in the middle, with Amethyst petals and a blue topaz center. I love it. Just like I love SL, no matter how many fights we get in.

Speaking of, I better finish up because he was in here a minute ago sitting next to me and I hate when people sit/stand behind me when I type/read/etc. and I asked him for some privacy so he's probably pouting in the bedroom. Oh well. *wink*

Because Reason Says...

"Look - I find some of what you teach suspect, Because I'm used to relying on intellect; But I try to open up to what I don't know... Because reason says I should have died Three years ago... No other road, No other way, No day but today..."

Today officially marks the 3rd anniversary of me still being alive. Go me, I rule. It's also my mom's 5Xth birthday.

In 2003 my marriage was just falling apart. We hadn't even been married one year yet and I was already trying to think of ways to leave him. I had just started a new job at Jericho Mortgage Company (yes, the famous one.) I loved the job, even though the pay wasn't awesome but I sure wasn't going to complain because I had just lost my job with Countrywide. My boss was a guy in his mid-40's, ugly as sin, but very nice and very rich. Within a week, MMA accused me of having an affair with him.

Of course, like always, MMA had been up all night drinking but I was fairly sober by the time we started fighting because I had drank a bottle of wine and didn't want to open another. He on the other hand kept drinking beer after beer. It all started when I told him that he needed to stop drinking that night because he was already trashed and I poured one beer out. He lunged at me and I missed and he hit the counter, which pissed him off. We ended up in the living room at six o'clock in the morning screaming and yelling. Finally he called his sister and she came to rescue him and the dog. I threw our wedding photo at him, I threw the phone at him, I threw bottles and books and shoes and even our framed marriage license at him. I hated him.

I went upstairs and downed a 150 count bottle of extra strength Tylenol, five at time. It took about forty minutes because by the time I was on the last 15-20, my stomach was starting to get full. Of course I didn't swallow them with water, I used a large jug of Carlo Rossi Cabernet Sauvignon (the one that's bigger than a gallon.) When that was said and done, I waited about fifteen minutes and swallowed a bottle of Nyquil. I didn't think it would kill me, but I wanted out of this life and if I could at least be braindead, I would be happy. I attempted to slit my wrist but the thought of blood almost made me vomit and I didn't want that to happen so I stopped that attempt. Plus, it seemed like overkill (no pun intended.)
Around eight thirty, I called my friend RMac and told her I was having a bad day and that I loved her. Apparently she sensed something in my voice because after I hung up she called back a few times but I didn't answer because I was busy calling my mom, my friend JAFH, my old boss (strange reason for that but it meant something), and MMA's sister and mom's houses. I talked to everyone except MMA's family, I just left them messages.

I guess I passed out around eight forty five because I woke up being carried down the stairs in a blanket by the EMTs and the one closest to my eye had a watch that said 09:04. They carried me to the ambulance under the watch of the CPD, and when they laid me down and hooked me up they only realised I was conscious when I moved so they couldn't put a needle in my arm. They said that I was lucky that the CPD had decided to not press charges on me. I didn't know you could be arrested for attempting to commit suicide, but apparently you can. On the way to the hospital I floated in and out of consciousness, and the only thing I really remember is seeing my ex-boss's SUV parked in the cul-de-sac and he was running after the ambulance.

I woke up again in the hospital and my mom and RMac were there with a male nurse who strongly resembled my brother-in-law. He made them leave, and tried to get me to drink a cup of liquid charcoal. I got the first swallow down, but I couldn't get the second and yakked into a square bucket thing (whatever they're called, bedpans or something.) The nurse said that the only other option was to put a tube through my nose, down my throat and into my stomach. I told him that there was no way I could drink that crap, so I accepted the tube. I had to sign a release to let them do it. The tube was as big around as a coffee stirrer or a teeny little straw, not very big at all. It was fine going in my nose but once it hit the back of my throat it was yak city in there. Finally, it was over and the tube was all the way in my stomach. They hooked me up to a machine and pumped me full of charcoal liquid. I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next eight or nine hours. My ex-boss's wife came to visit me and talk to me about alcoholism, and tell me that if my husband was beating me she could help me with it. Neither one applied but I appreciated her kindness. When I finally came to and the staff did all their tests, they determined I was physically sound and I was given a psych evaluation.
This older lady came in and asked me a series of questions, and determined that I had had a nervous break down. I was told that I was being "asked" to report to NetCare for a mental health analysis, and if I didn't go within three days I would be arrested. They had a van waiting to take me, and I went. MMA had shown up at the hospital by then and went with me. The woman I talked to at NetCare said that she could tell it was my marriage that was destroying my mental health and advised me to get personal and marriage counseling. When I told this to MMA on the way home he flipped out, saying that I was the crazy one, not him, and we got into another fight, just fifteen hours after I had tried to kill myself.

If I had died that day, I would have been happy. Now that I have this life that I'm living at this very moment, I look back and feel sad that I feel/felt that way. I wouldn't give up anything for my family, my friends, SL, my job even... Sometimes I do wish still that I had died, to save me from this constant pain that I still feel because of MMA. Then I think about the good things I have - I have my family back, I have some great friends, I have SL who loves me very much. It's not worth it anymore.

I guess I was meant to be here, wherever it is that I am.

After all this time...

Well, it has been something like two weeks since I updated this thing and since I'm rollin' balls and should be drunk (but I don't feel it) I figured now is as good a time as any.

Tuesday - 3/8 - Made all my phone calls Monday, and most people weren't really upset - just surprised - and only person got angry. The rest of them thanked me for being honest and letting them know. I felt better. This is the first day I could drink since I started that shitty medication. TV is trying to get the Tuesday show at Conti's, so I went up there to support him. TM was supposed to run the show, but TV is anal retentive and ended up mostly running it anyway. I got totally completely plastered. I drank martinis all night long and a few shots too, and by the end of the night I was like downing the 16 oz pounders of Coors Light. SB called me, surprise of a lifetime, and we talked for almost an hour. He said he might come up and join me but I knew he probably wouldn't anyway. He said he doesn't really see the Danielle girlfriend bitch anymore, but who knows. SB told me he missed me, and wondered why I hadn't been at Zuey's lately. I told him about the medication and the upset vagina (haha, that's what the doctor told me!) and all that... his response was, "I'm sorry - I'm just glad you're not upset with me - is your vagina upset because she misses me?" I laughed and told him he had a big ego. He gave me his new phone number, so I guess that is something. Who knows.

Wednesday 3/9 - Started taking the antibiotics for this dumb disease. Seven days and I was supposed to be clean. However, the medication made me feel like death. D*S was in town that day too, and so I came to work slightly hung over, which passed, but then took the medication which totally fucked me up. I seriously thought about having LF or TM or someone take me to the ER, it was that bad. Went to Zuey's at around 8pm, got drunk. Finally. There was a nice homeless fellow there who gave me a can of pumpkin.

Thursday 3/10 - Medication is still kicking my ass. I call the doctor to get a new script and they're like, "well we don't know" and I convince them to give me Zithromax. I still take 2 pills this day and feel like shit again. Go to Zuey's AGAIN and get slightly drunk. Tired of not drinking beer, I've gone back to it. It's dart league night and the whole place is packed. I come in and there is an empty seat next to BR, so I go to sit down. Grady comes up and tells me its his seat but I can sit there. Spend the whole night drawing chalk art on the bar with Brian. He draws a really buff looking woman's body, and puts a silly looking head on it that highly resembles Martha Stewart. We laugh and then we are scared because it really looks exactly like Martha. I put a napkin over the head of the drawing and write "Do not Lift" on it, but people come over like, "I must see what is under there! It says do not lift so I must see it!" and then they get scared at the post-Camp Cupcake looking Martha Stewart drawing. Fun night.

Friday 3/11 - I can honestly say I don't remember Friday other than I went to dinner with my mom and dad at the Rusty Bucket in Worthington Hills... I vaguely remember driving somewhere and doing something, but I have no idea what it was... I do remember ending up at Zuey's and being slightly bored but okay, and T****r showed up. He's from back in the day when I was a head, and I was like "hell yeah". Hippy was there, and he was being kinda asshole-ish but whatever. Trevor came home with me and we tried to make out and stuff but he was super sick from drinking 8 shots of vodka in one hour.

Saturday 3/12 - I go to this place called CLS something something and order a queen-size pillowtop mattress. Only $260 (including tax and delivery charge) and I am thrilled to not have to sleep on the couch any more. I work out at The California Fitness, and then do a little grocery shopping at Kroger. Fairly boring day. Can't remember what I did Saturday night either...

Sunday 3/13 - I think I just laid around all day - I can't remember anything but watching TV. Weekends are so useless to me for things like um being productive. I did go to LF's house in BFE for awhile, then I went over to Eldo's for karaoke. Hippy was there and drunk. The homeless guy was there too. I bought JR a drink and the homeless dude a shot (and gave him $10). JR came home with me and tried to put the moves on me, but I was asleep and ended up having a scary ass dream about trying to fly to Boston but ending up on the wrong plane. JR said I was screaming in my sleep. I guess I'm really quite terrified about this trip.

Monday 3/14 - Kinda bad day at work prompts me to feel like getting fucked up. TM and I go out for Chinese at the Hunan House and have a bottle and a half of Sake and not that much food. Hilarious times, oh my gosh. He wants to get home soon he keeps saying, but I'm like right whatever. We decide that we have to do some white and plan on a small bit just enough to satiate us for the evening. Well when I find out that I got my rent.com $100 reward card, I suggest going to Dockside Dolls to get champagne and make fun of strippers while we hang out with the DJ. Good plan. I drop $90 in a matter of 3 minutes and feel rich. Strippers keep coming over to hang out and I deny them all. Strippers like champagne. TM and I end up blowing down all night and I vow to never do it again on a work night. Sleep comes late but it is deep so I guess that was okay.

Tuesday - 3/15 - TM and I go to Grovetucky to see TV's show there. He has been begging us to come for like two months. JB is running it, and he gives me the cold shoulder (supposedly I ruined his life and blah blah with this disease shit.) TV says some way outlandish shit to TM and it really upsets us. TV is completely trashed, but still, that was no reason to try and lecture TM especially since Trace isn't a saint himself. A guy named Rich hits on me a lot, and he seems nice enough, just not my type. I take his number. TM and I leave and it is just like a blah day.

Wednesday 3/16 - Another boring day, hanging out at Zuey's. KP is pregnant and so we talk about that a little bit. GG is there (she is TG's daughter) and so we get to talking. GG and I wonder why we never really became friends before. I figure it is just because I used to be such a head and hardly ever talked to anyone, then when I was done with that, I just came in on the days that she wasn't there. Plus her boyfriend lives in Rhode Island, so she has been out there a few times to visit him. GG rocks - she has to be the nicest girl I've met in a long time. She was born blind, but man, I tell you what - that doesn't stop her from doing anything. Sometimes it makes me think about what I take for granted. While I'm at The Zue, TM calls and needs to borrow my car to go talk to TV about what happened the night before. I go and get him and he drops me back at Zuey's, and when I get there this boy J*R is there. J*R looks like Eminem. And he's nice. We get to talking and by the end of the night I have his number. Score. TM comes back just about 2:15am to get me and actually spends the night at my house. In the morning...

Thursday 3/17 - Happy Saint Patrick's Day! I wake up at about 8:20am which is kind of early especially after a night of drinking, and TM is awake and raring to go. He's already done laundry, folded all my clothes AND his and gone to McDonalds for food and straightened up the living room. It's all very weird to me. I let TM borrow my car all day - DE is out of the office today so work is a breeze. Everyone is thinking about the night and drinking because of the holiday. TM and I get dinner at TGI Fridays and get some Electric Lemonades and a green beer ($1 each for the green beers!) and he takes a sip of mine and I drink 1/2 and we leave the other green beer for the waiter as a little special secret for him (yes we did let him in on it haha.) Tonight is definitely a night where people will want to dance with the white lady, so TM picks some up. He's giving out dances all night long. The DJ comes over, and a strange thing happens - when he is leaving, he kisses me. Not like a super intimate kiss or something, but a kiss right on the lips, which has never happened. I'm elated. The gang from work wants me to come up to The Jerk and they keep calling me, so we drive up there and TM drops me off so he can run a few errands. Everyone is PLASTERED. DJ professes his love to me. I laugh and do a shot. I have 4 beers, but VJ's ex-girlfriend (?) is my tab-taker and she charges me for one. This is awesome. The sucky part was that I thought TM would be back sooner than he was and I ended up waiting outside for like 45 minutes. I can't stand crowds period, especially when there is no one there that I know. Get home and see that I have missed a call from J*R. He wants to come over. He does, around maybe 2:30am, and we just hang and talk. We end up getting it on, but the intoxicating substances hinder us just a little. He spends the night... He kissed me and it was seeming like a little more than just a leading-to-sex-kiss. I hope I don't get caught up in another just to be dropped again.

Friday 3/18 - Today is actually J*R's birthday. His friend comes and gets him before I go to work. He said he would call, but he didn't, but I'm not terribly concerned. I'm going to try to not get all involved until the time is right. Work is boring again because DE still isn't back from his business trip. Most everyone showed up today, surprisingly, but they all left really early. Shit, I left at 2:30pm instead of 3:30pm - but I had nothing to do. I came home and planned on naping for about 2 hours, ended up sleeping till almost 7pm. Made some food, talked to TM, and decided to roll tonight. Picked up this strange chick KL that he has been talking to, and man, she is strange. She smelled funny. We run some errands for a couple hours and then head to Zuey's. MF is here in town and my heart soars. I wish I knew what made me be so ridiculously in love with him. Oh well. We hang at Zuey's and GG shows up after awhile. We all chill together, and tonight seems to be the night for weirdos. Some guy called "The Toolman" comes up claiming to know GG. She's like, "You're weird and I don't like you" but he won't go away. He tries to pet her dog, Wendell (a seeing-eye dog) and I'm like, "Dude don't touch the dog, she's working" but he keeps insisting that it's ok. KL goes over to the people on the other side of the bar and recruits his friends to get him away from us. The same thing happens later in the night. I think the guy is just generally off and being drunk hasn't helped him any. Haha. Another guy and his uncle come over to talk to us, and they are both drunk. One is named Tom and the uncle is named Brian. They want to touch the dog. I threaten to break their hands because I'm so tired of people not understanding how important a seeing-eye dog is. Tom has just moved here from the Cleveland area. He is so drunk, and constantly accuses me of being mean. I think he's an alright guy, just drunk, so I tell him to meet us at Eldo's on Sunday for karaoke. We'll see how that goes. The DJ played awesome music practically all night long, and I was stoked. Good night. Now I'm home, still rollin' a little, and still drinking. I'm about to be bored which is disturbing.

Late.

When Dr. Dre says "Crunk", you will get the crunk...

Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Wednesday: Day starts out okay. Fever is gone, finally. Lunchtime, drive to south Columbus to pay my insurance bill, talk to SB on the way. Set up date for later that night to meet at Zuey's and set definite date for Thursday to go to dinner at 7pm. Spend afternoon elated. Later, go to Zuey's and talk to SB for a bit. Leave to meet the crowd at The Jerk. Try to sing karaoke, realize I have no voice, cop out not once but twice on two different songs. Laugh, drink, have very nice long conversations with WR's brother, MR. Go back to Zuey's with MR. Have one drink and more talk, make out, come back to my house. Very quick sex. See my first uncircumsized penis in real life. Become bewildered. Wonder why Aaroff hasn't shown up yet. Worry. MR leaves. Worry about Aaroff some more, call about a million times, no answer. Worry even more. Sleep.

Thursday: Spend all day excited for date, call Scott, no answer. After work, head to Polaris Fashion Place to get new outfit. Spend $62 on $90 outfit, feel proud, become elated over free belt. Head home. Power has been shut off. Stupid motherfucking AEP. Never got a letter about a deposit. Ask AEP employee if he wants to put me up in his house for the night. Nervous laughter... change into new outfit, go to Zuey's with intentions of drinking mass amounts of beer (to keep warm and drunk in my cold powerless home,) call SB on the way. Still no answer. Time: 7:45pm. Motherfucker. Get to Zuey's, sit next to B.Mac and Sh*. Show everyone my new belt. Start drinking drinks, no beer yet - I'm holding off as long as possible. J* and B* show up, say hi and mention something to Sh* about SB. SB shows up. DRUNK. Talks to me, not realizing its me, aplogizes when I remind him about dinner. He's been drinking shots since 3pm. It's 8:15pm. SB falls over a lot, touches my boob, girls give me evil looks and try and convince me that one of them is his girlfriend, SB falls some more, passes out in a booth, passes out in a chair, passes out while standing next to the Golden Tee game. Falls over a lot more. Leaves. Comes back. Someone finally takes his keys. Somewhere in there a glass is broken. TM calls me. I leave to get him without paying my tab. He puts me up in hotel for the night. Sleep finally comes around 5:30am after TM and Be* have left me to rest.

Friday: Day sucks. Hate sleeping in hotels. Work is boring, but everyone likes my new outfit. Ugly looking scratch on my face, I think it came from SB when he fell one me one of six times. After work LF, me, DM, and SU (her boyfriend and roommate, respectively) go to Cincinnati to party with Federated Land Title. LF shows her face and goes away with DM . SU hangs for a sec then joins them. I mingle. D*S. (owner) talks with me. I'm elated everytime he says my name like he's a fucking rock star or something. Bates sees me and wraps me in a giant hot guy hug. Tells me he's so happy to see me. Also tells me that everyone is just fucking thrilled with me, and that D*S. actually told him that he HIGHLY and GREATLY appreciates me as an employee. I get a little teary eyed. Talk to girls from Toldeo branch. I crack them up. Girls from Federated are nice. D*B is getting trashed fast. Double fisting Bud Light. My kinda girl. We joke about being lesbians. Talk to many other people. Constantly saying, "Hihowareya? I'm Kelly from Midwest in Columbus! Who are you?" Everyone loves me. Meet Vu and his wife. Meet Ed Maynard too. Hang a little with Deb's husband Nathan (nice guy) and Big Daddy Dave from Federated (keeps slapping my ass.) Talk to Tommy from the Westchester branch. He is nice. Hot too. Keeps asking me to come home with him. Realize that not only am I NOT drunk but I'm also excersizing good judgement when I decline. Jokingly tell him we could go fuck in the car. He smiles and says he only fucks in his bed. Get lots of hugs from lots of people. Everyone LOVES me. I crack people up. Tonight was my night. The whole time I think LF and DM have left since I still see SU sitting at the Midway Bar. Get pissed. LF finally shows up at some horse game. She's been there the whole time. Fuck a horse. She is ready to go now. Tries to rush me out the door without even saying goodbye to anyone. I tell her its rude and she should at least thank Deb and Jeff for putting on a great party. LF bitches. We leave after I make sure to say goodbye to every single person there, individually, just to piss her off. Tommy offers to take me home again. Back at the hotel LF becomes a super bitch. Says mean things about how many people I sleep with. I don't talk to her for the rest of the night. Sleep in a bed with big giant smelly SU. I have no pants and I hate it. Some folks from the party are loud next door and I really wanna go hang but I sleep instead. Steve calls the front desk to complain. LF's mouth keeps moving and I hear noise but I ignore her. It's over.

Saturday: Wake up, eat 1/2 a bagel at the free "Continental" breakfast, leave. Drive fast as ass back to Columbus cuz I'm tired. Drop SU at his house, call LF and tell her I'll be back later for H's birthday party (with no intention of coming back at all.) Go home. Read mail, sleep. Wake up at about 2pm, with no fucking voice. Feel like a mid-pubescent boy. Watch a movie. Try calling SB, his phone says, "At the subscriber's request, this phone no longer recieves incoming calls." Wonder, and hope its just the generic message the company puts up when they shut off your phone. Worry a little. Sleep. Wake up around 6pm. Watch some crap, sleep again. Wake up around 7:30pm. Watch some SVU, sleep, wake up in the middle of a new one and think I've gone crazy. Talk to Tony, decide to go to Zuey's. TM mentions rolling. I get kinda excited. Shower. Head to the Zue, pay my tab from Thursday. Drink one amaretto sour and talk to BR and B.Mac a little bit. Wonder why MR hasn't returned my call. Txtmsg NC and give him a dare to do. TM calls. I gotta go meet him to get the rolls. Finish my drink and leave. Debate calling SB. Call Aaroff instead. No answer, worry. Get to TM. Follow him to JF/OG/Be*'s house. Wait from fucking 11:15pm until 2am for the dumb rolls. While waiting, DJ M shows up with the one boy whose name I didn't remember and didn't ask again tonight and what appeared to be Nameless's girlfriend. Dance a little with the white lady. I take a few steps with her and decide that one is enough. Not feeling it anymore. Give MF a bracelet. He wants me to call him this week. They leave. Finally at 2am when the rolls arrive, I take it and wait. Nothing happens until almost 3:30am. Sucks. Comes on hard and fast but fades. Listen to Eminem, convinced he lives in my head. So glad I'm not on acid. I'm just fucking retarded. Watch about a million poker games and twitch a lot. Leave around 4:45am. Come home, wonder how my one big magnet got moved to the bottom part of the fridge. Blame it on Sheeba. Take out contacts, put on glasses, and start working on my blog. Think about SB. Wonder why.

Late, Kel

Bee double Eee double ARE YOU ENN

Say it out loud. I promise you will laugh. Then you'll promptly feel kinda dumb.
In the style of B.Mac, I proudly yell, "BeeeEEEEEeeeR!"

Yes, my fellow Americans, I have given up Beer for Lent. I hear your shock - "She celebrates Lent?! Has she gone back to the church?! Oh My God, has it finally happened?!" Sadly, no. I was raised Catholic, as some of you may remember, but declared it a cult with a really awesome Koresh-nicahv (That would be My Big JP, I can't help but love the Pope because he used to be an actor.) I gave up Catholicism around age 17, and although they call me a Witch, I really prefer the term "Naturalist". Your shock should be at the fact that I made a solid commitment to not drink a drop of beer for 40 days straight. Not the commitment! THE BEER.

Maybe you don't understand me. Are you really hearing what I'm saying? Read my lips: No More Beer. No bread, no beer. No beer, no cigarettes. No cigarettes, no lung hacking. No lung hacking, more energy. More energy, more desire to exersize/move. More excersize, Less weight. Less weight = skinny = hot guys lining up at MY door. See, there is a plan.

However those other things come later (as I sit typing and pausing every so often to listen for the knock-knock-knock of the pizza delivery man) because right now the focus is on Beer. Or should that be off beer? Anyway, it's day #3 of the no-beer days and I rule. I forgot yesterday and took a sip, but I promptly used my powers to turn the beer into Holy Water and then it didn't count. Yes, I cheated, but Beer is the staff of life for me - now what am I going to lean on?! I tell you kids, it's a lot harder to not drink beer than it is to drink it. (I'm Ms. Obvious.)

This week was rather interesting. I found out that there is a mouse or something living in my wall behind the stove/oven. I don't know if the mexicans have come to fix it yet... fix it? Inspect it maybe... Who knows. All I know is that Sheeba is having a disturbing relationship with my spice rack and I'm just very worried about the effects of garlic on her silky smooth fur. What else happened this week? Well Wednesday I was broke so I stayed home and didn't call anyone. MF called me at 1:30am however, and told me that he missed me and so on. He sounded sincere. I miss him too. It was weird for him to move away, first because he had become like my best friend and second because I can no longer keep tabs on his cash flow (Yes, he still owes me $630.) We talked for a little while and then I fell asleep. It was a Jim Beam and No Beer night.

Thursday I went out with TM to The Jerk to meet WR for a couple drinks. WR's brother, MR, was there (cute but has weird lips... not sure if I dig that or not) and RB showed up too. Also, C. Peterson was there! I haven't seen him in almost two years. We worked together at CBMG (April- August 2003) and according to my soon-to-be-ex-husband, C. and I had an affair. Ha! I wish I'd had an affair with a hotty like C... mmmm... ok, off track.
We stayed at The Jerk for awhile (owner M bought me a Long Island and WR bought me the Beer/Holy Water) and then went down to Jimmie's Buckeye Lounge to see <3 TV <3 (those are little hearts, not "less than" 3's) and his brand spanking new karaoke show. It is a small place but it was okay. He had us run a few errands for us which was cool because he gave me $20 for gas. He had wanted us to stop by some place called Cliffside to see JB the other KJ (formerly of Tony's Bar and Grille) but we never got the call so we went back to JBL. JB ended up calling me while I was there and the music was loud so I thought he was talking to me about the show at Cliffside. Well I was asking him questions about it like how packed was it and so on, and he's like "Um, I'm not doing a show..." which was bad timing for me to repeat what he had said because TV (his boss) was standing right next to me... yeah. I felt like a chode but JB called me back and said that he didn't really give a flying fuck. I hope he's okay with his California Fitness Trainer job because I have a feeling that TV won't keep him around much longer. Oh well. At least I wasn't completely the cause of it... *sigh*

I danced with the white lady about four times last night and couldn't fall asleep until almost 5:30am. That really sucked. I don't know how I used to be a professional dancer like that - I woke up feeling like shit and I still kinda feel like shit. I'm so glad I stopped dancing seriously.

Today has been rather boring, but I think my pizza will be here soon. After that I am heading out to Zuey's because I haven't been there in a freaking week or more and my body just doesn't know what to do away from the Zue. (Haha, a poem.)

Late!

Quiver (Day Five)

OOOOOH.

So I took 2 hits last night, and instead of seeing inanimate objects talk or shake or have heartbeats, I felt like I was rollin' something intense. It was sucky at first, but quickly turned to awesome.

Found out why SB hasn't always returned my calls - it's called a girlfriend. Grrr. I guess the situation is that he is trying to figure out if he wants to stay with her or not. Supposedly he really likes me, but he's not sure about her. Sometimes she can be a real "dickhead" and a big "asshole" when he goes over there, and he doesn't like to be treated like that. (The quotes indicate his words, btw - he's not very loquacious.) He is trying to get away from her I guess. I'm not too concerned about it because he chose me over her last night and that was cool, and he kissed me on the lips. I guess it's not really a big deal about the kiss, but he never kissed me before. *Grin*

So, talked to MF last night about the whole living situation. Not sure what's he going to do next Monday when I move out, but I know he can't stay with me. I feel kinda bad, but he knew it was coming anyway. Last night while I'm trippin balls at Zueys, I was like "Hey now we can go on a date since we won't be roommates!" and he AGREED. He even said we could kiss, but he wasn't going to let me make him a statistic. I said that was fine because at one point I had been madly in love with him anyway, and therefore I would be willing to wait for him. Oh yes, I told a guy I wanted to wait. MF must be special!

I'm thawing pork chops in the microwave so I can make teriaki pork stir fry later. Gotta use up all this food before we move! On to Vh-1's "I love the 90's - Part Deux", I'll catch y'all later.