Eruption of an Angry Bitch

Dear Mother,

I know that you've had two surgeries in six short weeks now, but we need to talk. You're a perfectly functional 49 year old woman. You managed to raise five children, and you normally work every day with special needs high-schoolers, an admirable task that I do not envy you.

Your recent surgeries have not affected any of your limbs, and were not life-threatening. You are very lucky to have not had any infections, and that you've healed rather well. And I know that a hysterectomy is a very stressful thing for a woman to go through, both physically and mentally.

That said, you need to grow the fuck up, man the fuck up, and back the fuck off. I have had five surgeries and countless minor procedures of my own, none of which you were there for. I went through eight rounds of chemo, of which you were there for one. When I finally broke down and swallowed enough of my pride to beg you to come help me, you gave me half-assed excuses for why you couldn't. My last back procedure I drove myself home from, and believe me-I felt it. I do not want or need people to care for me when I have surgeries or procedures, because I plan ahead and make sure I have everything I need to take care of myself. I've got me.

So if I have to hear you whine one more time about the pain you're in, or that you're nauseated, or bored, and you choose not to listen to me when I tell you to take your meds or call your doctor, I will not be held responsible for my actions. I understand and can empathize with pain and boredom, but do not whine at me just to whine, not when you're going to ignore everything I tell you.

I'm not your fucking lackey, I'm not going to ask if you need something, then spend the next 10 minutes drawing it out of you, insisting that I really do want to go to whatever fucking store you want me to go to, even though it's out of my way. I will offer once, because once is how often I truly mean what I say. I am not your babysitter, and I do not appreciate being used as such. I respect your husband enough to not have any plans for this weekend, because he asked me as a personal favor to be here for you while he had to work, but don't fucking push it.

I'll help you out and get what you ask, but you'd better realize that I'm doing it as a favor. So why don't you do us all a favor and grow the fuck up, man the fuck up, and back the fuck off.

Goodness gracious, the year's almost over.

I've never really been one for resolutions. I thought about jacking Sushi's Year In Review, but that looks like a lot of work. We'll see how long the Vicodin keeps me awake, and honestly, my memory's not so great. Not sure I could think back that far.

I was just thinking, I've been truly blessed this year in my friends. I've got a pretty awesome support group. The year kind of turned into a shit fest for me, but my friends have all been there, making fun of my crippled ass and making me laugh (which is really the most important thing.)

And I don't just mean the friends who I see on a day-to-day basis. Most of you I've never met, but I love you to death, and I appreciate all the good vibes and support you've thrown my way. I've whined about laxatives and joint pain, and wonderful little miracles of medicine that won't do their fucking job, and falling off the curb like a tard, and you put up with my shit and tell me it'll be alright, and that I look awesome bald (like I didn't know that... Come on, it's me. I could rock an orange jumpsuit and a mullet and make that shit look sexy. But if I ever do... Please hit me. Mullets are not the hotness.) And I just love you kids. So thank you.

I want to hunt each of you down and give you a big ole hug. But not like a full-on frontal hug. I'm not down with that. Maybe just one of those one-arm hugs. With a couple pats on the back.

I was trying to explain to my mother when she was here about all of you, (And about this crazy canadian chick I need to go visit, especially once I move back home and am just a few hours away), and she got all weirded out. She's all, "You know them thru the internet? You don't know who they really are. That chick could be some man in prison somewhere..." But it's not like that. And even if Cher is some weird dude in prison who likes impersonating canadian chicks, I full on love you man. And that goes for all of you. I full on love you. In a strictly platonic way of course.

Here comes Chemo #4

Tomorrow's the big #4 kiddos. That gets us to the halfway point. Fuck Kancer much?
I never made it back to work. It's not the chemo's fault. It's not so bad. Not really getting the nausea anymore, maybe just for a day or two. It's that damn shot that fucks my fibromyalgia up that I'm not a fan of. I put a nice little dent in that bottle of percocet the doc hooked me up with. I have an appointment with her tomorrow (I keep spelling that tomowwor. How wetawded are we today?), so we'll be discussing that. Which suddenly reminded me I need to make an appointment with my ENT doc who did my neck surgery. He said to come back halfway thru my chemo. On the phone with his office right now... And we've got an appointment to see him on the 6th. Yea team!

So I was talkin to The Mother last night (ok, I pretty much talk to her every night) and we were having a discussion about globes. See, mother was talking about how it'd be interesting to collect globes, since so many things are always changing. So I'm thinking, "Hey... I have an idea for a Christmas present for Momma." I'm thinkin she'd love a globe from maybe the 60's. You know, to compare how much they've changed since she was born. Then maybe I can buy other decades to add to her collection. Yeah... Globes don't work that way. You can buy old old replica globes. Or you can buy current globes. You can buy Antique looking globes, you can buy globes you can write on, and globes that light up. Apparently there isn't much of of a market for Globes from just a few decades ago. But there have been a lot of changes made in the past few decades. Found an interesting site Here that lists all the changes that have been made in country names in the last 60 ish years. Call me boring, but I think this shit's pretty interesting. So if any of you stumble upon a site that has historic globes that aren't from 1775, hook me up.

In other news, have I told you about the little ditty MarkyMark made up? MarkyMark likes to sing "Chemo makes her hair fall out" to the tune of a certain country song about tequila and clothes falling off. It does make me laugh though, so I suppose it serves its purpose. We usually talk on the phone every night while we're in bed until we fall asleep, which results in me not remembering much of what we were talking about. Last night I have no idea what we were talking about, but I texted myself to look up the How Many Licks Tootsie Pop commercial.

I've decided I need a Polaroid Camera in my life. The camera itself is pretty damn cheap, it's the film that kills you. They come in packs of 10, which are 10 bucks apiece. Retarded much? Yes. But I still want one.

To keep my life geeky, I also want a video projector. Not the old school ones, I want one of the new ones. I think it'd be cool, with it mounted to the ceiling and all. Watch a movie on the wall (or on the geeky pulldown projection screen), layin on my Super Awesome Foam-Filled Beanbag/Mattress. Oh that's right kids. Fucking awesome. It's the size of a king size mattress. Did I mention it's fucking awesome? I haven't exactly ordered it though. It's not the price, it's that I'm pretty sure I couldn't lift/carry/move it on my own.

This shit has taken hours longer than I expected.
Cher-I miss you chica. Come back to blogland. Isn't fibromyalgia the best!?! Fuckin not.
Jerk-It's all you baby!
Tena-You're cool, just not a cool as me. Don't worry, if you believe, someday you'll be there.
Inner Voices-I can't not love you man. You're awesome. I would love to be able to have a beer or 6 with you. Hell, I'd love to be able to drink, period.
Sushi-If you were to move to Cali, the chicken hat could be yours...

Much love kids. I think I'm gonna go soak in the tub, then it needs to be bedtime soon after cuz I've got to be at my doc's early and it's a long drive.

Hey

I've started this post so many times. It's not blogger's fault for once.

This post is rather difficult for me to figure out how to word, so I'm just gonna say it. And if it doesn't come out right, fuck it.

I got the lab results back last week. The results from my surgery. It was the bad news thing.

It turns out I have Hodgkins Disease. That's cancer of the lymph nodes. Of all the cancers to get, it's one of the best; it's got really good recovery odds.

When my doc told me, I first asked what Hodgkins was (cuz he wasn't exactly making it sound like the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol was about to roll up to my door). Then I cried a little; and apologized for crying. Dr Doc then says "Hey, you're 22 and just found out you have cancer, I expect you to cry." I still felt like a major wuss for crying in front of the guy. He then explained a bunch of stuff to me, and said the 2 oncologists in the clinic/hospital are really great doctors. He said if he didn't think so, he'd send me someplace else. Then he set me up an appointment for a full body CT scan, to find out if any of my other lymph nodes are fucked up.

I'll admit that when I got out to my truck that day, I bawled my eyes out for about 20 minutes. I called my Mommy and cried at her. I called MarkyMark but only got the voicemail and didn't want to cry into that.

So I go see my oncologist tomorrow. I should also get my CT scan results back then. I just want to get all the info and start this shit so I can hurry up and get it all behind me.

I also told ThanksGivingGirl the day I found out (cuz I was calling her to let her know I wouldn't be back at work the rest of the week cuz of the infection), and it just kinda came out. "TGG, I got my test results back. I have cancer. *CryCry*" She told my big boss and that's why him and the little posse came over to my house last wednesday.

I've told CrossBow, and she's been texting MarkyMark like crazy trying to make sure I'm ok. I think she's so worried cuz she's all the way down in Texas and can't do anything. Have I mentioned that I love CrossBow? She's a sweetheart. She's seriously one of the best friends you could ever wish for.

Another good friend of mine, a sweet little southern girl from Arkansas, called me the other day. She was askin how the surgery went, and I told her the wonderful news, and she said she's coming to see me. SouthernGirl even MySpaced MarkyMark to make sure I'm ok, and to say she'll be out in October to see me. Nevermind that SouthernGirl's never met MarkyMark. They spoke on the phone when I was in Mississippi a few years ago, and I talked about them so much to each other, they feel as if they know one another. SouthernGirl's also a sweetheart. She just went thru a rather nasty divorce, but she's with a new guy who seems to make her happy and I'm so thrilled. The Ex was a jackass.

Yet another great friend of mine, a runner from Oregon, said she'd try to come see me soon. She was my roommate when I lived in Maryland, and is like a sister to me. She's in SoCal right now, househunting with her husband, and due to have a baby in a few months. This sweetheart, RunnerGirl (I'm so original with names aren't I?), told me that she's not sure if Lymph nodes can be donated, but she'd totally give me hers. How could you not love a girl like that? Even if she is unfortunate enough to be from Oregon... I haven't seen RunnerGirl in almost 3 years. I really need to get off my ass and go see her, it's only like 6 hours. She hasn't met MarkyMark either, but they pretty much know each other, same thing as above.

When shit hits the fan, it feels good to know your friends are there for you. I know I'm going to be rocking the Bic'd head look by the end of the year, and that my friends are already talking about wig-shopping with me (which I'm so not doing, wigs really weird me out), really makes me feel good. CrossBow said I'd better still be able to go out with them, cuz she doesn't want to leave me out. Honestly, I just think it's gonna be hilarious to be called my nickname (everyone calls me Fro. always) when I'm hella bald. I mean seriously... Think about it.

My parents offered to drive here immediately when I told them. I told them that's unnecessary, I haven't even been to the oncologist to find out any info yet. My mother said if I need anything, or decide at any time that I want her here, my parents will do whatever.

So ThanksGivingGirl, CrossBow, SouthernGirl, RunnerGirl, MarkyMark, Hefe, and all the rest of my friends and family, I love you all. Love Love Love.



This kind of makes me wish I'd told my parents some things when they were here a few weeks ago. I just feel there's a lot of things we've just never come out and said you know? I know they don't like MarkyMark, so I've never bothered to tell them about us. For 3 1/2 years. We don't live together, so it hasn't been a pressing issue, but I really feel like I passed up a golden opportunity. Maybe I'm just freaking out and want everything cleared up. On the one hand, I'm not really scared, but on the other, I'm fucking terrified. I don't know man, I don't know.

I'm going to leave you now with the happy image of my neck, taken for you today. And I rocked it to work like this, all uncovered and nasty. (Dr. Doc told me to keep it uncovered for now when I saw him yesterday.) And if you look closely, you can see the hole they re-opened that the string was hanging out of until yesterday. Fun!

Yes, I've been horrilbly horrible

The parentals got here at 8 ish this morning. We went to IHOP to get some breakfast, talked some, and now they're sleeping. They were on the road for 14 ish hours? Maybe more. I don't know. They stop to eat real meals, MarkyMark and I usually eat in the truck. I'm not sure how long I should expect them to crash for. MarkyMark and I are usually out for about 12 hours after that marathon drive, but my parents are different.

As I'm sure you've guessed, I took today off work. I suppose I didn't really need to, since they'll be sleeping all day, but whatever.

Sorry I've been AWOL. I either haven't had anything to say, or I've been so beat by the time that I get home that I just completely crash. I don't even cook dinner most nights, just pass out.

I got Starbucks with Hefe last night, and we just chilled at his house talking till like 11. I don't know what it is, but me and that guy can just talk about the randomest shit for hours. We only shut up last night cuz I looked at my phone and saw that it was 11, and he had to work today. I stopped in at a 24 hour store for some necessary groceries last night, and ended up talkin to some weird (and I think drunk) dude for like 15 minutes. It was funny, he was going on and on about how Sacramento has a secret fued going on between all the different races, and how houses get burned down and shit. Crazy dude...

When I got home I cleaned up the house some. Just tryin to make it not appear to be so much of a war zone. I think I finally went to bed at 1 something.

When I went to my orthopedic surgeon last week she said my knee's lookin great, and I don't need to see her anymore. I was tellin her about my new problem, and she gave me about 2 week's worth of pills, and said to call her and let her know if they were working or not, and she'd write me a perscription. I guess these pills are something they've started using on people with Fibromyalgia. Dudes, they are the shit. While they don't take away all my pain (nothing does anyway), they do make it so I don't get the brain fog, which my last pills didn't do. This doc is fucking awesome. She said she was helpin me out cuz she likes me, and doesn't think someone my age needs to be using a frickin cane to walk. After she said that though I started thinking, why does this chick like me? I mean, there's nothing I could really see. It's been bugging me. She told me if there's ever anything I need, just call and she'll try to help me out. Which is awesome, but that I don't know why is bugging me. I know, just shut up Kay.

Then I met with my normal doc Tuesday, just to follow up on my million things going on. I've got a pre-op on the 6th, and surgery on the 15th. He said the Cat scan results (I've had two) can't tell if my lump/tumor/whatever in my neck is benign or malignant, so they definately want it out. They'll do testing on the tissue afterwards to find out if it's bad news. So I'll be out of work approx 5 days for that. Then after I'm fixed up from that I need to get the wisdom teeth out. And why wouldn't I be blessed with all four? My dentist said the bottom ones are in sideways, so they'll need to drill those bad boys out. It's cool though. After my first surgery I'm not really freakin out anymore. I'm cool with anyone cutting into me for whatever they need. I know it'll be alright. I'm not looking forward to the IV, but I'll do whatever I need to to get this shit straightened out.

(If you're a bit queasy about blood and needles you might just want to skip this):
I set a new personal record at the Lab this week. I needed one more blood test, just one little bottle. I walked in and said, "I don't want to be that guy, but can I request that either *Betty* or *Wilma* draw my blood today?" The chick sitting at the desk (we'll call her Pebbles, since she's a bit younger than my requested techs) remembered me, since she tries every time I go in there to get my blood, and fails every time. So Betty tried first, and stuck my right arm, with no love. Then I asked if she wanted to go for the hand, since that's what she had success with last time. She said if I was down, she'd give it a try. No love there either. The vein was moving in my hand, it just kept scooting away from the needle. Betty says she's done, and Pebbles asks if she can give it a try, since Wilma works in another part of the clinic now, and they're only to call her for emergencies. I tell Pebbles to go for it, I don't have a preference who tries. She also tries the right arm, since the veins there just feel better than the left arm. No love. The ladies feel so bad that they keep stabbing and stabbing me, but I feel bad because I'm making their job suck. Pebbles only tries once, then calls Wilma. So we're waiting for her to get there, and I ask if I can just paper-cut my finger and squeeze the blood into the little tube or something. They laughed and said they wished. Wilma shows, and they already have her little lab coat ready and waiting. I tell her that she's the super-hero who always sticks it on the first try, and she laughed and said I probally jinxsed her now. She tried the left arm, since the other was rather pin-cushioned by this time. No love. She must have nicked it or something though, cuz by the time she pulled the needle out there was a nice bruise already forming. So she went back to the right arm, and gets the vein instantly. They fill the little bottle in no time, and tape me up. I told them that I love them all, but really hope I don't have to come back and see them ever again. They're a great bunch of ladies, it's just not fun for any of us when I have to come see them. My doc even apologizes every time he has to send me to the lab. I'm not a squeamish about the needles anymore, though I don't like them by a long shot. I just try to joke and laugh about it, cuz otherwise it'll blow. And laughing's always fun. I know it's gonna suck, they know it's gonna suck, so why not at least have some fun with it? Maybe I should just learn to do it myself. Some other dude walked in for his own bloodwork when I was on my 4th poke, and he was watching all the trouble it was with me. I told him that they're all very good at their job... He laughed and didn't look so sure at all.

It was just MarkyMark's birthday. It kind of sucks not being able to celebrate birthdays together, but I get to make up for it soon. I love MarkyMark. We had quite a scare the other day because PieCat was missing. Marky was really starting to worry about her, she'd been missing for about 8 hours. PieCat was found in the shed, apparently MarkyMark's gramp had locked her in there on accident. MarkyMark washed her up, and she has barely left Marky's side since. Poor girl.

When my grandmother went on her little road trip this summer, her and gramps stopped at some garage sales (as usual), and found something they thought was perfect for me. I admit, when I first heard about it I said Hell-to-the-no! To my grams. Yeah, I'm a great kid... But then the idea started to not be quite as creepy. And now that's it's arrived (my parents brought him), I think it's mad cool. Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Rowdy (his tempory name, a homage to the stuffed dog on Scrubs). I keep catching him out of the corner of my eye and thinking he's moved. I keep freakin myself out. But I love him. How many people do you know that have someone's taxidermied dog from a garage sale in their freakin house? I'm not too sure MarkyMark will find it as awesome as I do...


Crossbow's off in Texas for some sort of super-special training. She won't be back till late September. By that time Hefe will be gone for his bullshit in North Carolina. And ThanksgivingGirl's leaving to go home to the east coast for 2 weeks. All my bro's are leaving me. I was thinking the other day, and I really need to get out and get some new friends. Really. Cuz in our job, you never know, they could decide to transfer any of my buds at any time. And then I'm completely assed out. I guess everyone doing their training and vacations just has me depressed or some shit. It just blows that once you get close to someone they leave (StapleGun, Choncho's leaving this weekend, SwimBoy has like a month left till his contract's up and he'll be leaving. He doesn't want to renew the contract, the wifey wants to move back to her home state of Florida.) I need friends that aren't from my work, so I don't have to worry about them leaving my ass all the time.

Whatever, I've rambled long enough, I'm gonna take a nap. Much love to you all, and I'll try to update more often. Try.

Weeee ken'D

I'm terribly sorry I haven't updated and kept you all in the loop. I've still got some major brain fog due to the pain pills I take every day, so today's post will be in the form of a list, as usual. Some of the things I've had/have going on:

I was supposed to go see AC/DShe last night with Crossbow, her mom, and ThanksgivingGirl, but Crossbow dogged us out. So instead, ThanksgivingGirl came over here and we made soap. We both decided last week that we want to do crafts and such, so we're going to have a weekly craft night. We made soap Friday and Saturday night, and are a bit burned out on it now. But that's ok, we've got all the stuff to make chocolate candies this coming Friday.

I found out I don't have breast cancer (but I kind of want a second opinion to find out what is going on. Scary stuff.)

I still haven't had a housewarming party. I'm not sure I want to have one, cuz then people I don't really like will know where I live. Right now only Hefe, Crossbow (and her husband), ThanksgivingGirl, and of course MarkyMark have been here. I'm completely ok leaving it that way.

ThanksgivingGirl has a cute new kitten named Nora. She's a feisty little devil too

I finally washed one of my trucks (first time since before the surgery). And then it goes and rains that night and my truck looks like hot ass again.

I made a kick-ass potroast

My parents decided they're coming to visit the first weekend in August (watch the news for word of a double-murder in Nor Cal...)

I read a hilarious book by Augusten Burroughs

This is the most beautiful thing in the world. If any of you crazy kids come to the housewarming party I won't be having, we shall drink much Kokanee, and play much air hockey.

I got a CT Scan

I got a tiny, tube-like video camera shoved up my nose by a doctor

I had another doctor stab me in the neck a couple times in order to extract cells to examine them under a microscope

We made all this frickin soap yesterday. Lots of different colors and smells. The top half is what I kept, and the bottom half went home with ThanksgivingGirl. It got to the point when we were making it that we were just closing our eyes and grabbing a scent or color, because we just didn't care anymore. Amazing how fast you can get burned out...

Hefe has started coming over on Sunday mornings to type and print off his weekly essays for an English class he's in (he doesn't have a printer). I review it and offer my suggestions, and we usually end up discussing all sorts of things, eventually leading to one of us saying the world is a fucked up place. And when he leaves I go grocery shopping for the week

I've got to go to the Ear Nose and Throat doc again tomorrow

Ok, I think I'm done.
Much love to you all, hope you enjoy what's left of the weekend.

God damn

Oh my dear sweet baby Jesus. I'm dying inside my head, and because we're a week out to surgery now kids, I can't do anything about it. I have a headache the size of your mom, and all my other joints are fucking me out of my mind with pain. My elbow is excruciating. My elbow folks. How the fuck is that related to my knee pain I'd like to know. I left work at 11 30, although I don't really see what the point was. Hurt here, hurt there, who gives a fuck right?

IHOP was and always will be the shit. StapleGun, Hawaiian, another chick and I went there, and all was good in the world. There's nothing some french toast can't cure. I'd go there now if I hadn't just taken my sleepy pills. And if my stomach wasn't being a whiny little bitch. You shut up or I'll punch you in your crap-lousy face! Or something like that.

I have to admit I'm not much of a drunk dialer. Mostly my friends take my phone so I'll stop texting and be social before we've even finished the first drink. Crossbow does that a lot. I've drunk dialed MarkyMark, but I think that's it. I threw my phone across a yard and into a sprinkler once because my dear mother was calling and I didn't want her to know I was trashed.

Regarding MarkyMark, I'm not really sure what to say. MarkyMark lives 701 miles away from me, according to the almighty Google; and as a result, I don't see MarkyMark very often.

I'm going back to bed. Love to you all.

Where are all my fellow Insomniacs?

InnerVoices-if it wasn't for Crossbow saving my drunken ass, I would have been that fool waking up with marker on my face in a strange place... Some asshole drew a Captain Morgan mustache on my face in metal marking pen one night, and Bow scrubbed it off my face while I sat in the bathroom giggling.

Holly-We ordered the strip club food, but with Crossbow's being sick and all, I never actually tried it. Her sister and cousin said they had the best damn sandwich of their lives there, and the fries were fucking incredible too. But... They'd been smoking pot all night, and anything probably would have tasted great to them. I have no idea why that strip club served food when they didn't serve alcohol though, that makes no fucking sense to me.

I'm not going out tonight. I'm probably not going out any time soon. I have an appointment with an Orthopedic Something on the 20th, and it would be foolish of me to go out any time before that. Plus, with the painkillers I'm now on, I'm not thinkin I can do much of anything anyway.

But, the offer still stands for anyone who brings their ass to Sac-Town, I'll go out with you. Anywhere (mostly anywhere), I'm down. Alcohol is the thing that works best for my knees anyway.

I took my lovely Vicodin at 4PM. I finally fell asleep about 6. I woke up at 9:40, thinking it was Saturday morning, and then hella pissed that it wasn't. I can't fucking sleep. And why am I so hungry? I loaned out my (new) truck to one of my boys so he could go pick up a bed from R.C. Wiley, I have no idea if it's back. Told him to lock the keys in the truck when he's done with it, I'll use my spare when I need to drive somewhere; so he doesn't have to bother with trying to wake my ass up to give me my key. Not that it seems to matter, since I can't fucking sleep.

I don't think I like Vicodin very much. Yesterday I took one 750mg pill like my doc told me, and I could still feel my bullshit hurting. Tonight I decided to take two. I can't feel my knees, but my stomach is a little off. I go from being completely ravenous one minute, to oh-my-God-I-don't-even-want-to-smell-food. And my equilibrium is soooo fucked up. I almost fell over opening the bathroom door.

I'm supposed to go to the Old Spaghetti Factory with ThanksgivingGirl tomorrow for lunch, but I'm not sure I'll make it. She told me she understands if I don't, just give her a call, but I really want to go.

My mother called me earlier in the week, and we were talking about my possible surgery. She asked me if I have surgery, do I want her to come down here to take care of me? And I said "No! No, no, no, no, no. I love you mother, but please don't. I can totally take care of myself, and if I couldn't, I'd figure it out." I do not want that woman here.

I told Crossbow that no matter what, she can't let my mother come here. Crossbow said it's no problem, I'd live with her ass if I got surgery, because it'd be easier than trying to take care of me here. I'm not too sure about that though. I'm terrified of being a burden on anyone, I think I'd rather take care of myself. But I also realize that if I have dual knee surgery, that's pretty much out of the question.

I think I'd feel safest with Crossbow out of anyone; she knows all my secrets. I love her to death. She's had my back more times than I can count. Did you ever have someone you just clicked with so completely, it's like you known them forever? Maybe we have... The universe is infinite. Time is infinite. There are millions of possibilities...

God, there I go off on a tangent. Aright, I'm going to try sleep again. Love you all, have a fun, safe weekend.

Friday, oh sweet Friday.

I made it kids.
I actually made it.
This week has sucked like no week I have experienced. Good Lord, what a suckfest.
I've been stressed out of my mind, in extreme physical and mental exhaustion, and I've only got to make it thru today.
My goals for today:

Avoid all the stupid mother fuckers. I just can't deal with them.

Avoid stairs. Same reason.

Get my ass to work in the next 20 minutes. Yeah, we'll see about that one.

Screen all my family's calls. I can't deal with them either. Note to my mother: No, it's actually Not necessary for you to talk to me every day. Yeah, no, seriously.

No crying.

Just make it through. Just fucking make it through the day. You can do this.


Alright kids, time to put on my big girl pants. Wish me luck. Or lots of drugs/alcohol to dull the brain.
Thanks.

A dream is just a dream. A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline

Last night, along with trying to get my buzz on and posting incoherently, I found myself doing a little Myspace Stalking. Thank the Lord I'm not the only one who does this. It started with checking a friend's page to see what she was up to (StapleGun actually) and then I found a mutual friend of ours in her Friends link, then stalked a few more people from MutualFriend's page. And Some of MutualFriend's friends have really pretty eyes. I love eyes. I can fall into crushdom with someone based on eyes alone. I spose it's wrong of me to stalk on Myspace when I have my page set up so people can't do that to me. I'm just very guarded. I'd even prefer to be able to have some sort of semi-friend list that is different than what your real friends can see. Cuz some of the people on there... I had my blog on there set up to preferred list only, and I was getting comments from people not on it. Not a safe feeling. I almost want to delete my Myspace or have one set up for just a few of my friends. I'm just too uncomfortable with the whole if-they-can-find-it-they-can-read-it way that the system works. I don't want to be found. Even by people I went to high school with, or work with, or anything. If you're a friend, you already know how to find me, if you're not... Don't fucking look. I don't want to talk to you. It's just akwardness I'm not looking to initiate.
(*warning: family ranting bullshit from this point forward*) That, and the fact that my Mother is on there. How lame is that shit I ask you. And my brother. There's shit in my life I really don't need them knowing. I quit sending bulletins and blogging on my Myspace mostly because of my wonderful family. I don't like my family all up in my business; and they seem to think that because we're family, it's their right. It's only blood fools. My family was an interesting one to grow up in. I'm not gonna bitch (anymore than I have), it just resulted in us not being very close. Or maybe I just rebelled against their beliefs and shit, who knows. I just don't want them all close. I consider my friends my family. Maybe because my friends won't let me down, or judge me like my family does, I don't know. My friends (my family of friends) are very important to me, more so than my actual family. I'd do anything for them, and they for me. So Hefe, Crossbow, StapleGun, MarkyMark, ThanksgivingGirl and of course all of you out there in Bloggerland, I love you guys. Thanks for letting me be me.

A drunk girl's words are a sober girl's thoughts

I'm addicted to iTunes Radio. RadioActiveFM to be exact. I can't wait to get home and turn it on every day. It just plays the best shit. I was cut off for the last week cuz my internet's a little bitch and it was horrible. Horribly horrible. Some might even go so far as to call it terrible.
I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't like it. Being alone and cut off from the internet is a hell worse than any you could face in the afterlife. My buddy StapleGun is now gone. She was good for when you're lonely. Always doin somethin with that girl. And CrossBow's on vacation this week. Not really a vacation, she's just moving, but still, I haven't seen her in like... a week and a half? Two weeks? Who knows. Hefe I don't seem to see enough either, and he's leaving to drive home (to Washington) tomorrow night, and by the time he gets back I'll be gone. Shaft. I've been kicking it with another girl from work (the one I spent Thanksgiving with) cuz her little boy is on the east coast with her family. She's leaving me Saturday tho. But she's fun. We've been going to lunch (3 times this week, that's like a record) and fucking about at work and all sorts of silliness. I like her. She's fun. And she swears more than me, it's great.
Update on my Precious Zachary (my truck). He's dying. If he were human, I'd diagnose it as terminal cancer. But since he's not a human, I'll diagnose it as the death rattle in his engine, a fucked up headlight from some deuche on the freeway who didn't tie down the shit in his truck, a check engine light, future brake issues (oh I know they're coming, I replaced the front ones a year ago, the back'll get me soon), tire issues (I need new ones after the first of the year), and a strange sound possibly to be linked to my front alignment. And I refuse to keep dumping my lil bitty paycheck into him. He's 13 years old. He's been well loved. So when I go home for Christmas (5 days, Lord baby Jesus, help me), I shall have to purchase a Zachary Two (Finance gods permitting), and I shall then drive it home. My mother seems determined to send my lil bro down here with me, to keep me safe or some shit, I don't know, but if that little boy (He's 18) and I are trapped in a vehicle for 13+ hours, one of us is going to end up in a body bag. Plus, I can't stand how slow he drives. The boy doesn't seem to understand the concept of going over the speed limit. Especially when one has a radar detector. And he's not a fan of free-ways. I'll be much better off on my own. I can keep me awake just fine, and I'll drive at night. So much easier than fighting day-time traffic. I'm not thinkin the mother will go for this plan, but tough shit. Tough fucking shit momma. Bull shit even.
Lord, I have no idea what to get my parents. At all. But what with buying a new truck, I may not be buying them anything... That's gonna be painful in the pocket. Especially considering I'll be going from no payment ever to OUCH. So much for that new gym membership I was planning on in January. Oy, and it had an indoor pool... Shaft.
So yeah, I'm a whiney little bitch. If you don't like it, there's the door. Yeah, over there, need some help to it? Cuz my boot would be more than happy to assist you.
Ha! I love me. That's what a lil drinkin does. I get all, "Fuck you mother fucker, I can take you." Why is there no good music right now? What the hell is that? I hate the slow shit.
Jerk Store and Rev. Lick, you'll be taken off the Dead Bloggage list once you post for two weeks consistently. Some of you could argue that I don't even do that, but you could just fuck off. It's my list. I'll do what I want with it. I will. Deal with it.
Dude, I want to go get trashed with my buds; one good trashfest at a club before I go to my damn Mother's house. My parents don't drink. And I'm going to want to. Soooo bad. And to smoke. My parents stress me out. How the hell do people survive living in the same state as their parents? Maybe I just need to grow a set of balls and tell my parents I'm a big girl now. But... No, probably not.
K, I'm starting to fall asleep, and I have 2 doctor's appointments tomorrow (Bout my wonderfully awesome knees, and the other to the shrink I have to see because I drank that beer once upon a time durning lunchtime. Which apparently is a no-no. Well, hey, now I know.)
Anywho, night.

Thanks Holly

I've had so much shit going on I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. That beer I drank at lunch a few weeks ago came back to bite me in the ass. I had to go see a mother fuckin counselor. I quit my tanning bed. I'm still tryin to get a part time job at the best place in the world. Just for fun. The manager of one of the local stores (who I think was eyein me when I was in there) told me that after Christmas all the local stores will have 1-2 openings. After January I'm joining a new gym (two words: Indoor Pool), which is hella retarded in that it's so far away. But, if I get into the awesome job, it's close to that.
One of the girls I kick it with is back in town (for 2 weeks; and because of her many piercings I'm calling her StapleGun) so she rounded up her posse, and we went out Friday night, and I got tore the fuck down. And it was good. Oh my lord it was good. We went out to eat first, and I had a couple brews, and got nicely buzzed, and I'm 90% sure I was bein hit on pretty strong by our server. Plus all the girls told me I was. It was so funny. Our server always made sure I had a drink in my hand (which isn't easy since when I drink anything, it tends to disappear pretty fast), and was brushing against me every time *they* were near-coming to our table or not. And then when I switched to water *they* made a comment bout "Don't your gums start tingling when you drink these?" and something else that I can't remember but made my table laugh, then brought my water with lemon. Oh that's right. And I just sat there giggling like a fool.
Then we hit the club. I've been to this club with StapleGun and her girls once before (I don't go clubbin. Mainly cuz my regular posse isn't down. They do house-parties. Which I'm not down with anymore.) and it was alright. I was the DD last time so it was interesting. But this time, as a trash-fest, it was in-fuckin-credible. And one of the bartenders was such a cutie. And they were my bartender. Oh Friday was a good night. It was the night of Kay. Everything was goin my way. I may have smacked a few asses, danced a lil bit with some people, and just buzzed the night away. I'm real familiar with the bathroom there, so if anyone needs to know where it is... I got ya covered. Though I felt like a total ass cuz StapleGun kept babysitting my trips to the bathroom. I don't like being an inconvenience, you know? We left way too soon, which is the way all good nights should go (it was actually 12 something). There may or may not be some landscaping somewhere in Sactown with my inner stomach contents on it. I thought it'd be a good idea to get rid of that before our hour-long car ride home. And when we finally got home, I had to pee so bad. Note to drunk girls everywhere, you may think there are going to be open gas stations, but there won't. Don't pass up that 24 hour grocery store cuz you think you can hold it. It will not be fun.
Oh my kiddies, a good time was had. Then I woke up at 9 the next morning (after arriving home at 1 or 2) to get some Christmas shopping done with my buddy Bow. I like kickin it with Bow, but I don't see her outside work much anymore. She's in the middle of some major moving bullshit (gettin her new house all built and meeting with all the people for her old house). And Hef is hangin with some of our other friends that I've kind of moved away from. See, me and Hef have this friend PJ who I've just noticed is a bit of a user. Cuz I've helped this fool out with everything from cleaning to baby-sitting to packing his shit up for his upcoming move. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being "Hey Kay, you have a truck right?" I'm tired of friends who say they owe you one but just keep owing you another, and another, and you finally wake up to the fact that it's not going to stop. I guess that's part of growing up. Or I'm just getting bitter. Hef has a little saying I'm starting to think is smart, "A lack of planning on your part doesn't constitute an emergency on my part."
Everyone and their mom has been calling me lately. I suppose I should be flattered and shit. But I'm not. I'm ducking and dodging their calls like an expert dodge-baller. Dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. My mother's calling me every day. I don't need to talk to her that much. Seriously. We have nothing to day. But if I don't answer she calls again, and her voice-mails become more and more (...needy?) I know she's excited I'm coming home for Christmas soon, but damn, down girl. I have issues, I don't like spending a lot of time with my family. And I don't like being trapped. Going home is not easy for me, especially when I haven't got a vehicle. And she makes all these plans for me (for which I should be grateful, but like the little ass-wipe I am, I just feel more and more trapped) from plans for me to visit the High School (she works there) to work out the kinks of their video yearbook (they don't have a teacher anymore), to wanting me to speak to some of the middle school and high school students, to planning my visits to see my friends "You'll want to see H and BrandNewBaby for a day or so," to hanging with my lil bro and sis "JJ has from the 25th to when you leave off to hang with you and C will be around and will want to do something too." To even scheduling my hair appointment. I'm glad I have her and she loves me enough to try to keep me happy but please, it's choking me. I'm a fucking adult, but when I try to say this she get's all "Oh really? Honey (to my father) did you realize our little girl is an adult?" And then I hang up on her. I cannot take it. That woman stresses me out beyond all belief. And every year I vow I'm not going home, not going to put up with that again, but I can't take the guilt-trips so I always come back.
But I refuse to let her have my Thanksgivings or my New Years's. She can't ruin all my holidays. The last 3 years I haven't spent Thanksgiving or New Years at "home." I don't really do anything for New Years but unwind from Christmas. The Thanksgivings I've spent road-trippin the east coast with friends, with a best-friend's family, and most recently, with a work-friend and her 2 year old since her boyfriend's out of town (for 4 months. Shafttile.) And her little boy was sooooo cute. And she has a one year old cutie dog, and a brand new kitten. Probably my favorite Thanksgiving to date. It was very mellow, very laid back, no dressing up, I got to entertain a lil-man and help set up and clean up and just be stress-free.
This has really rambled, and I need to shower, so The End.