Sunday, December 14, 2014

Twelve Side Effects of Medication - The Holiday Song


The first side-effect that my new med gave to me…
...bloating and weight gain.

The second side effect that my new med gave to me...
...2 crazy muscle spasms
and bloating and weight gain.


The third side effect that my new med gave to me...
...3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings,
and bloating and weight gain.

The fourth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The fifth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.

The sixth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The seventh side effect that my new med gave to me...
...7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The eighth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...8 weeks foggy memory,
7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The ninth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...9 days without sleep,
8 weeks foggy memory,
7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.

The tenth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...10 yeast infections,
9 days without sleep,
8 weeks foggy memory,
7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The eleventh side effect that my new med gave to me...
...11 scary mood swings,
10 yeast infections,
9 days without sleep,
8 weeks foggy memory,
7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.


The twelfth side effect that my new med gave to me...
...12 giant pimples,
11 scary mood swings,
10 yeast infections,
9 days without sleep,
8 weeks foggy memory,
7 days anal leakage,
6 fucked up cravings,
5 hour crying jag,
4 days compulsive shopping,
3 weeks constipation,
2 crazy mood swings ,
and bloating and weight gain.

Because why not take twelve paragraphs to say what I could've said in one?

Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Holiday Plumbing Miracle!

 Good morning! OK, I know I said I was done until the New Year but come on, y’all know me better than that! It seems that rut I felt like I was stuck in? Wasn’t a rut at all. My life was just missing a plumbing emergency.

 Or two.

 Yesterday afternoon The Oldest bounced outta bed and bolted upstairs to tell me a supply pipe to our bathroom (as in “one and only”) had sprung a leak.

The Holiday Plumbing Miracle

 OK...Hubby was do home in a couple hours, so no biggie. I mean, half the house still has its original plumbing that’s been dying a slow, leaky death since we moved in eight years ago. So, ya know - Hubby’s gotten pretty damn good at the slap-n-dash form of plumbing. (Which totally works, so who cares if it’s pretty.)

 3:30 pm - My man arrived home to be accosted with the pipe situation. NO PROBLEM-O! A hacksaw, a quick trip to Menards, and problem solved baby. (“We should only have the water off for an hour or two.”)

 Only not so much. Because my dearly beloved Grandpa built this house using the slap-n-dash method for EVERYTHING! Meaning, there is NO access panel for the bathroom plumbing. NONE!

 7:30 pm - The sink was still in the hallway, the vanity was sitting in front of the porcelain throne, and Hubby was (not so quietly) cutting a hole installing an access panel in the wall so he could reach the pipes.

 The good news was, he was coming down the home stretch. All he needed was a tiny hand (ie mine) to reach through the new hole access panel and guide the hot water pipe in front of the drain pipe. (At least I can officially say I helped, right?)

*cue Dean’s Law kicking in and laughter from the Universe*

No pictures were taken of the actual repairs, as I valued my life.  The pipe was in place and I decided to run my hand over the drain pipe, just to make double sure I’d managed to get in front of the monster. Only problem was, “my finger sliding over the pipe” was more of a “my finger going in the pipe” type of thing. 

*insert long string of obscenities here*

 8:30 pm - (That’s 5 hours of no water or place to pee besides a very cold tree.) We discovered that the drain pipe had a monster sized hole in it. A fact which went a long way in explaining the year-long battle we’ve been waging against the unkillable mildew in the corner of our closet. sonofaBITCH!

 9:30 pm - Hubby finished the whole supply line revamp so we could have water (and a warm, inside throne to perch upon) for the night, knowing it’ll all come out and an even BIGGER new hole access panel will have to be installed today.

 I loved my Grandpa dearly, but the guy subscribed to a fake-it-‘til-ya-make-it brand of home construction, which has turned out to be the gift that keeps on giving. I mean, here it is, 10 years since he passed and, every time a new leak emerges, his name is on everyone’s lips.

 That’s why I’ve decided to refer to this as The Holiday Plumbing Miracle. With every curse over a skinned knuckle or swear at a slipped wrench, it was like Hubby was channeling Grandpa’s spirit, right there in our bathroom.

 Besides, The Holiday Plumbing Miracle sound SO much nicer than What The Hell Was He Thinking!?! #376

 Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower before the water goes away for another “hour or two” that’ll possibly last all friggin’ day. Thanks Grandpa!

 

Friday, December 5, 2014

IN REPAIR...



  I suck at multitasking and compartmentalizing. Why should anyone care about my lack of focus? Pfft! You probably don’t. Unless you’re a friend who blogs. Then I apologize from the bottom of my heart, since I’ve discovered that I can’t be a blog reader and a blog writer at the same flippin’ time. Because I suck at multitasking and compartmentalizing.

  To be honest, there is way more at the heart of my slacking off when it comes to reading most blogs than my inability to half-ass more than one thing at once. For starters, when I spend my days immersed in any number of the millions of blogs out there, it’s like I get sucked into this vortex of comparison and I begin to question everything.

  Am I blogging the right way about the right stuff? Am I half the writer I think I am or even a quarter as funny? Maybe my style sucks and my ideas are overdone and my voice doesn’t resonate and I have no niche and OH MY GAWD WHY AM I EVEN TRYING!?!

  Behold the spiral of self doubt and depression that accompanies the over thinking of that which used to be free, easy and from the gut. Now, everything feels more forced than a “pleasant meeting” between Gwyneth Paltrow and Angelina Jolie. My flow and vibe, not to mention my voice (that which is supposed to truly define me) has dried up like the skin on my elbows.

  I wish I had the intestinal fortitude to ask other bloggers if this ever happens to them. Or is it just that I’ve spent so much of my life in my own little world, happily walled in by my blanket fort, that when I peek out I become an unquenchable sponge, terrified of soaking up the wrong (or right) thing? Am I just insecure and as screwed up as I think I am, or are there others quietly thinking similar thoughts and battling their own guilt over their lack of readership support for their fellow web-scribes?

  Perhaps this is what ultimately happens when you take an over the hill rebel and introduce her to a formula she’s told she absolutely must follow for success. AND, in a moment of weakness, she’s dumbass enough to believe it’s true? It begins an existential meltdown of epic proportions that is beginning to look like it just might culminate in scrapping the whole damn thing and starting over from scratch…

  Because somewhere along the way, too many voices broke through the walls of my introvert’s Fortress of Solitude and I became so totally confused about who I am, what I want, and what I’m willing to do to get there, that everything about it changed. (I’ve begun referring to this as The Year of Blogging That Never Should Have Been.)

  And that makes me sadder than anything else online that I could think of.

  Somewhere along the trip that I used to so openly and transparently share, I forgot how to actually share. I feel as if I’ve lost my most valuable possession - my unbridled, unabridged, uncensored self.

  So, during this season of family chaos when most folks don’t have time to think straight, let alone read crap on the interwebz, I’m stepping back for some much needed clarity. To rethink, reevaluate, and regroup. To work on some re-self discovery. To ditch the world of Wordpress that’s caused me some serious grief and figure out how the fuck to migrate my ass back to Blogger. To determine what I’m doing and why the hell I’m doing it.



  For now, I hope you guys all have an amazing Holiday and a Happy New Year and I plan to see you January 1st. Same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel, and (hopefully) back to the same Bat-Shit-Crazy me.