Good News

I can eat now! Well, I could on Sunday. It was great. Sunday afternoon we went to Denver because I had bought Wicked tickets for Mother's day. We went to PF Changs for dinner and I had lettuce wraps. I felt terrible before eating, very faint and on the verge of a very bad headache. But then I started eating and realized I could swallow without my throat swelling after two bites. After that I ate the whole plate of food. I made a mistake and put the special sauce they mix up for you on my first wrap, but I didn't do that twice. I can eat almost anything as long as there is no spice. Spice still requires vicoden.

After dinner, we walked to the Cheesecake Factory for dessert. I bought two pieces. Because I want to branch out and try different things. But I can't go there and not buy the banana one. It's just too damn good. It's better than any cheesecake I've ever had. Even the chocolate ones can't top the banana. But I keep looking for a better one. Soon, I'll accept the fact that there just isn't one.

Wicked was quite amazing. Somehow we had seats in a box, on stage left, which was great because they were much closer than the general seating and I could see some backstage action. Which might bother some people, but not me! Am such a techie. I am so glad that I finally saw this play, because I love the soundtrack and know it completely. I read the book too. The play is very different from the book, but that's ok because Maguire's book are really heavy. It's amazing they made a funny musical out of such a book. Although I cried during the song For Good. It's a fabulous song between Elphaba and Glinda. I remember after we graduated, a lot of people had the quote "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good" on their profiles. And it irked me to no end because it's not a happy song! I feel that that song sums up so many of my relationships. Relationships that are not all happy and sweet love songs. Ones that have been chaotic and difficult but also with equal amounts of moments where I can't imagine my life without these people. The best quote in the song is "who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good." I don't pretend all my relationships are good for me. Sometimes they aren't. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate them, and can't find some value in them. It's just very bittersweet, and the song captures that so well. Which is why I hated it when people used it as some happy, omg you are so my best friend kind of way.

Anyways. Wicked was great. I want to see it again. From a different angle, so I can see the complete set. After the show, we went down the fire escape stairs because we thought they led to the lobby. They did not. They did lead to downstairs back stage. And I am very upset that we did not "get lost" and wander back stage. Because we could have seen an awful lot of things that really excite me. And maybe some of the actors! But we didn't. We let a nice stage hand show us the back door. And we left by the smelly garbage. Sigh. Next time!

B-R-O-K-E

So my car? The one that's still not fixed? That's been in the shop for a month now? And they just figured out what's wrong with it? Like, maybe it has BAD GAS? And now I have to pay another 500 dollars to get that problem fixed? GREAT!

Because I'm not planning on moving to Ohio in a month. Where that $500 dollars I will be putting on my credit card might have come in handy when I am looking for an apartment and paying my bills while unemployed. No, I had no such plans. This blows, I cried. It's just not right, that my car went a hundred miles on a bad tank of gas and only after I got home did it die. (I mean, thanks for getting me home.) But to find out that it won't start now because of bad gas, something that's not my fucking fault, and now I have to pay a thousand dollars to get my car running again kills me. I was all set. I had my money ready, and now I need to plan around again and fix my budget and cut back more.

It doesn't help that I have surgery costs too. I knew I would, and I can handle that. I was just so close to being debt free. (Except for you, Sallie Mae.) My credit cards were almost paid off, I didn't have Dr. bills or random payments to something unscheduled. I was in the black! And it was wonderful. And now I'm a little bit in the red, and planning a HUGE change in my life. A change that I can't just back off and wait. I've done that too many times now. I want to be happy again. I want to see my friends. I am not supposed to be here anymore, it's time to get out.

Don't worry, I'm not going to let some little money issue subdue me. It's not the end of the world. It's just a little challenge that keeps kicking me down. Good thing I'm getting a huge income tax return, huh!

My Lips Are Moving

But you can't hear anything. It takes very little effort for me to move my lips, that doesn't hurt at all. But it takes a lot more encouragement for me to use my vocal chords and actually say something. It doesn't really hurt to take, but it seems like it's going to. So I don't say anything. Gonna make for a good day at work tomorrow! Not only can I not talk to people, I probably can't do a whole lot of activity, since getting up and moving around causes my face to flush and some tiredness to set in.

But I'll be there!

I've gone off the liquid pain meds for now. I took some this morning because I somehow slept until 11:30 and I hadn't had anything since 5 AM. But since then I've only had two Tylenol and I've been ok. I've even been able to eat, although it's a little bit harder to do now and it stings a bit. But I'm quite ready to be done with prescription pain meds and all the lovely ways they screw with your body.

It's been a rainy day today, and I'm glad because now I don't feel like I missed out on any part of Blossom. The arts and crafts fair would have been yucky to see in the rain. And carnivals shut down when it rains. Not that I could have done much at either of those two events, but I try to be positive in my planning. My bar boss was pissed I couldn't work the night of Blossom, but really what did she expect? I'm sure it's better to have a few dirty tables, rather than a trampled cocktail waitress who passed out and died from all the biker boots walking on her. They say things like that aren't good for business.

Notes From The Couch

Not a whole lot has happened in the past week. I've been on the couch, drinking liquid Coden every four hours, and watching many hours of TV. It's kind of relaxing, except when I try to eat something sharp and I'm reminded that I can't! I got so sick of eating sugary foods: yogurt, popsicles, juice, peaches, applesauce. I got my hands on some Miso soup and that was just what I needed. Salt! The pain meds worked really well, which may be a bad thing because it lead me to eating some pizza and maybe a few chips when I felt really good. Don't worry, I chewed it really well.

Hunter hasn't been the happy bundle of joy I thought he would be since I have been home for so many hours in the past few days. He ran away at least once a day, coming back extremely fat and bulgy. Stinky too. One night, he ran away in the middle of a rain storm and when he finally came back two hours later, he was quite wet and unhappy. We made him lay on a blanket on the floor and that cause the whiniest episode of his life. It was his own damn fault he ran away and we let him back inside, dried him off and put him on a nice blanket. But no, he wanted to be on my lap on the couch. Fat chance, Mister Hunt.

JBelle asked me this morning "where you tonsils?" She doesn't quite get why I'm sick. She knows my tonsils are gone, but she wants to know why the Dr. did that to me. Gramma told her he threw my tonsils in the trash, and she came really close to opening the cupboards to look for them. Now if that's not redneck, I don't know what is.

Hunty Boy Turns Two! Part Two-The Second Year

Hunter is a funny boy. This plastic jar holds his toys. But he discovered that it was a lot of fun to chew on, and also stick his head into and bump into the furniture. Ok, maybe I just thought it was fun to watch him bump into the furniture.
















He could also be convinced into almost any situation. I flipped my mattress one day, and it took little persuasion to get him into the middle and bam, dog sandwich.

















Emma was horrified at the dog antlers. Hunter? Doesn't even know they are on his head.















He likes to sleep in awkward positions. Usually curled into an impossible ball on your lap, but sometimes just hanging off the couch.















He likes stuffed animals. Even the non-squeak kind. They sleep with him. Or rather, he sleeps on them.














When I'm gone, my mom likes to ask him "Where's your momma?" and he runs to the door to look for me. (sometimes he does this even when I'm sitting in the same room, possibly telling him to look for his momma) But he does love his momma. Last night, I had a dream about BB showing up to see me at the bar and I woke up to Hunter crawling up the bed along my body to rest his head on my pillow right next to me. If that's not love, then I don't know what love is!

Hunty Boy Turns Two! Part One-The First Year

Hunter turned two yesterday, he was born April 25th, 2005. He was seven weeks old when I got him, so that makes it the first week of June that I got him. He had a huge litter, and one of every color. The runt was black, and so cute. Hunter had very distinctive markings on his face and chest. His other Chocolate brother was very heavy. Also, I paid WAY too much for him because he is unpapered, but purebred. Maybe. My vet seems to think that since he has such light markings that he could be part Lab, part something else because dogs can have two daddies. His mother was such a tramp.

This was the second day I had him. He was so tiny. See his light eyebrows and band on his chest. They are still there, and they get blond in the summer time!















I love this picture because he has green eyes. That bowl he's sitting in? Months later became his food bowl. It also gave him pimples! -















This means he has good hips. It also makes him look like a frog and I like that!
















Here we are, establishing dominancy. Bad dog owner, Jess.
















Here we are having fun on the porch after work. I always rushed home to be with him, I felt so bad leaving him alone in the bathroom, and I was so glad when he was big enough to stay outside with the girls.
















He's only four months in this picture. He just keeps getting bigger.

WWYD?

For Five Bucks?

Last night, when I was working my (sober) butt off bartending because Chris wanted to mess around for his last night as a Wednesday bartender, I realized that I was doing something I never saw myself capable of. Spending an evening with a man old enough to be my dad, who I didn't know from Adam, who was also drunk. And to be fair, he was a nice guy. He was respectful, not vulgar, and not creepy. But still at a bar, alone on a Wednesday night. I talked to him a lot. Granted, he was sitting next to Amanda and I was talking to her too. And I could have been snobby, and moved Amanda down the bar, and only gotten him new drinks. But I wouldn't have made ten dollars off him, nor did it make me feel uncomfortable to converse with him. I don't make a habit of being friendly to a lot of people there because they get the wrong impression and think we are friends (which leads to hugs that are NOT ok) or to awkward "can we go out to dinner sometime" conversations. But it is a service industry and part of what I'm selling is me. I get paid five dollars an hour and I keep all my tips. But how hard is it to open a bottle of Bud Light? Or mix a drink. I don't get tipped because I pour awesome shots. I'm tipped because it's expected and they like me. Or they don't ever tip, and then I hate them. I guess what I mean is, it doesn't hurt me to socialize and be friendly to someone who isn't of my age bracket, or life style, or economic status. I get paid for it! It's not something I thought I'd be doing a few years ago, when I was sitting at the Backstretch every night (why didn't I do the 50 day club? I'll never know.) and I'm glad that I've been able to do the bartending thing. It's been fun.

Never Mind

I didn't have surgery today. I didn't realize that the sheet they sent from the hospital said no Aspirin. And I took two Excedrin yesterday. I didn't even think about it. It wasn't until I told my mom that night and she said it was bad did I check the paper again. I told my nurse, and she said she thought it would be ok. We told my Dr. and he said he didn't think it would be smart of us to proceed. Aspirin affects the entire life of a platelet, and that life is 14 days long. He said that there is too much risk in blood loss for an elective surgery. And I can come back next week. But I was so bummed. I cried. I just wanted to be able to feel normal after the pain was gone. And now I have to wait. I won't be able to work the Blossom Festival. But it will be done, and it will be done safely.

Count Back From Ten

I am going in for my tonsils tomorrow. I suspect that I will only get to 8 before I go under. And when I wake up, I will have so much room in my throat. For things like, air. I'm having such a hard time breathing. I cannot wait for these monsters to be gone.

So think of me tomorrow at 9 AM, which would be 11 AM Eastern time.

I bought a lot of stuff today for this week. Lots of liquids, I'm not quite sure what I'm going to eat. I bought Mac and Cheese, and Chicken and Stars. I have popsicles, which I just found out are made with Splenda, sorbet, and yogurt. Natural soda, apple juice, and Gatorade. Applesauce and peaches. I plan on sending mom to get me cheesy, bean burritos from Taco Bell. And I'll probably want Miso soup from MoMo's.

I'm also going to want lots of chips and I'm going to be pissed I can't eat them. Sharp edges are a no no.

I'm not that nervous about going in. I'm really looking forward to my throat not feeling like it's slowly closing and to breathe normally and talk like I used to. I'm not looking forward to being in pain and on meds for a week. I'm really bothered by that, actually. I've been so go, go, go for the past few months, that just laying around for so many days is going to drive me stir crazy. So keep me entertained! I just wish I had wireless. This dial-up is going to drive me up the wall! How am I going to load Myspace!

Too Many Chapsticks

Ok Girls. I'm tagging all of you to do this. It's easy! Yay, blog fodder!

I believe that Whoorl did this a while back. And since I bought a new purse today, I cleaned out my old one. I put the contents on the floor and took pictures just to show you. Honestly, this isn't all that goes in my purse. But I left my "Get Ready For Bed" bag at L's house on Monday. It will not fit in the new purse. Bummer.

Anyways. This is what I had in my old purse:













All neat and tidy on the floor. So unlike how it's thrown into my bag. Here is part one of a close up, so I can explain it all for ya.

















Gum. Lots of it because I like it. Also, mints because sometimes I don't like to chew gum, mostly at work. Cell phone is my BFF. Pink Vera wallet for the bar. It holds everything I need and it's still small. Blue Vera Wallet holds my check book and cash and cards. Black Vera Pouch hold my pain meds and some mouthwash from a hotel. Striped zip up make up case holds deodorant, foundation stick, mascara, and shadow. For nights when I don't go home before the bar. I really need some eyeliner in that one. Bottle of L-Lysine for my addiction to strawberries and the resulting sores in my mouth from eating them. Chapsticks, mint and honey seems to be my thing. BC pills, to keep me from breaking out like I'm 16 again.\















Blue Tube is cuticle oil stuff from Bath and Body. I like to put it on JBelle's nails when we are out and she's being wild. Sunglasses, I almost never wear them. Rubber bracelets from Stina on the night of the 80's party at the bar. One battery for my camera which is now broken. Flash drive, which I never use anymore. Another Vera Wallet which is a perfect place to keep condoms. Not that I need them anymore. Wouldn't Vera be so appalled? Nail file. A key card to a hotel, random receipts, numbers, and cards. Packet of gum that has one piece left. A half eaten package of Cadbury Easter Eggs. An Andes Mint. And a caramel Kiss.

And that's not even all that goes into the purse. Nor does it all fit into my pretty, new, hot pink for spring purse!

The B Word

I went to the mall the other day in hopes of finding a bra that fit. Did you know 8 out of 10 women wear the wrong size bra? I knew I did, but I say it's not my fault because when I bought them I didn't know I was about to lose a number size in my boobs due to weight loss. Weight loss= Awesome. Smaller breasts= Not so Awesome. Anyways, I had bought to somewhat expensive bras from VS a while ago and they were ok. But now. They are too big. And they move around a lot and the underwire presses into my sternum. It hurts. So I went into Dillards to check out bras in a smaller size. Oh, lucky me! They had a fitting specialist that day. Had I ever had a fitting? Did I want one? Sure. Why not. So I went into the fitting room with Susan. I took off my shirt and she measured my chest, right underneath my armpits. She left and came back with a bra, which oddly enough was numbered 34C. I am not a 34C. I am a 34B. I knew this. She comes back with another size. A 32B and a 34B. The 32B is too tight. 34B fits perfectly. Anyways, before I tried on any bras, I had to take my current bra off. Which I did. With Susan in the room. And at her insistence that it's ok. I don't care, I'm not particularly modest anymore. And she was in the boob business. She didn't care. She even hooked the clasps for me. Actually, I kind of want someone to do that for me all the time. And to adjust my straps daily. So I'm wearing my new bra today. It's not very push up-y, nor does it make them look bigger. But it fits and with my shirt off, it's fucking hott. I think I just fell in love with low cut bras.

Oh, That Sound?

That cracking sound when I shrug my shoulders? It's just stress. No worries. Oh, and that red spot on my arm that I keep scratching? Just a re-occurring stress hive. I have one on my jawline too. I tend to internalize my stress. It wasn't until recently that I realize that when I have a deadline or something is bothering me, that I get these weird hives on my body. In the same places! I am so in tune with my body. This is also why I'm pretty sure that I couldn't get myself addicted to drugs. "Why am I so nervous and jittery today?" Must be the caffeine in my tea. Certainly not the need to go snort a line or whatever drug stuff people do. I wouldn't know. I never engaged.

I'm going to my Wellness Checkup today and I have a feeling I'm going to be all set for surgery. Actually, I feel fine now. Except for the times I can't breathe well because my tonsils are blocking my nasal passages. Even the few times I smoked a cigarette at the bar didn't cause my throat any pain the next morning (a sure sign of sickness). I'm healthy! I just carry diseased glands. Is it wrong that I sort of want to take a picture of them? Or that I want to see them when they cut them out? Because they are going to be huge, and I want to see that! I will not take them home with me, even if that was allowed. Because that's just gross. I like my freezer to be tonsil-less. Also, when I move, there is no way I'm going to pack them into a cooler with some dry ice for the 19 hour drive. That's just insane!

My trip to Pueblo will probably include a stop at Starbucks, because they have them. And Target, for the same reason. If I have time, I'll stop in and see a little baby boy, too! Pueblo has everything!

QRS YX QRS YZ

JBelle learned to say her alphabet in the last two weeks. She doesn't actually know the right letters after S, she skips right to YZ and gets stuck in a repeat of "QRS...YZ...QRS...YZ". She also drags out her E and her H in a really high voice. If I could upload my cell phone videos, I would.

The enormity of my move hit me when we went to go get her this weekend. I was spinning her around in her mom's living room, and after each turn she'd grab onto my neck and say "I'm ready" before I'd spin her again. She's turning into a little girl who loves to play games with me. I sing her songs on the way back home. I sit in the back seat with her! Leaving my other family members will be hard, but leaving her is going to kill my heart until I come back to her again. I'll never understand how a parent could leave their child.

DD is flying out to drive back with me. We're leaving on the 16th of June, making the nineteen hour drive over the weekend so she can get back to work on Monday. We're really looking forward to the drive through Nebraska. Anna the Nano is going to get some good play time. I can't even fathom all the work that needs to be done before I move. I think I'm actually suppressing the things I need to consider because I'm starting to get my little stress bumps on my back and arm. When the one on my face shows up, I know I'm internalizing my stress. I rarely realize when I am stressed, I think it's part of how I deal with stress. Just ignore it!

Slip, Slide, Crash

A week ago I got in a car accident. I decided to drive up to Denver to meet an OWU friend for dinner. I was just going to drive up for dinner, then head back to Canon for the beach party at Manhattans. It had been rainy all day and pretty cold out, but I went anyways. It's not everyday that someone from OWU comes out and I had promised I would be there. I left for Denver around 6, and I had made it into the outskirts of Denver by 7:30. Traffic was bad in some places, but there were a lot of cars on the road that night. Yeah, it was rainy and snowing in spots but the roads didn't seem very bad. I spent most of my drive up to Denver talking on my cell phone to various people. Once I got to Denver though, I had put my cell phone away. I was just cruising along with traffic when I realized that I was no longer in my lane. I was slowly going into the right lane. I must have immediately taken my foot off the gas and tried to regain control of my car. I remember thinking that I needed to turn into the direction that the car was going on it's own. And then I lost on control of my car and I remember saying "Oh no no no no no" over and over. My car was in one of the middle lanes, and I ended up crossing into the far left lane, spinning around and crashing into the concrete median with my rear end. Another woman was involved, I don't remember how. I was headed North, when my car finally stopped it was facing East. I turned my car back on, and drove out of the lanes. I told myself I was fine, I was ok. And then I lost it and started sobbing.

Luckily no one was hurt. Although, right after my crash, two cars almost crashed and then two more did crash. It was a nasty patch of black ice. And I'm lucky that I just drove away. My car was just fine that night, and the next afternoon when I drove it home. It didn't start after that, but at least I was home. I don't know when I'll get it back from the body shop, but I'm confident it's not totaled. And if it is, well, the blue book value of the car is a lot more than I paid for it, so I'll be just fine.

10% Interest

I think I'm going to start telling that to boys. "Yeah, we can hang out but I have to be honest here. I'm only 10% interested in you."

I've also decided that I am going to move to Ohio. Ever since I started to seriously consider it, I can see myself there in ways I never saw myself in Denver. My whole life was tied to people in Ohio, and for the most part they are still there. A little more spread out, but a two hour drive to me is nothing. (Like last week when I wrecked my car going to Denver to see KR for dinner.) I break my heart a little bit every time I think about how much of JBelle's life I'm going to miss in my short jaunt to Ohio. I don't see myself staying in Ohio for long, but at least a year. This is an idea that I have been putting off forever, telling myself that I will be better in Denver. But Denver doesn't have my closest friends. The friends I call whenever something happens to me, good or bad. The friends I don't have to wonder if they will be OK with the way I live my life, and the friends that will tell me when I'm not living it right.

I need them. And just maybe, they need me too.

Squirrel Feedings

Today, while I was sitting in L's car at the park, a very sleek squirrel came bounding toward us. We were in the car, but she came right up the the curb and sat there looking in the window. I had a few strawberries in my bag, so I started biting off pieces and throwing them to her. After she ignored the first bite, she picked up a second and gobbled it down. After that, she got even closer to the car and on a few occasions even reared up like she might jump in the window. This was terrifying to me because I do not want to ever have the feeling of squirrel paws on my head. L got out her camera and recorded the squirrel hopping all over the grass in front of us. And when she replayed the footage, I heard myself telling an unmistakable blonde story about how some people eat squirrels and, oh my god how gross is that. Like, who does that, seriously! (damn you Grey's for introducing 'seriously' into my vocab.)

I had to shudder at that statement because not only is my hair straight today, but then I start talking like I'm blonde. And what if I do that all the time! I'm pretty sure I might.

Also? My voice sounds like I have two very large beach balls lodged in my throat. Which is pretty close to the truth. I called the Dr. yesterday because I'm tired of having to clear my head every fifteen seconds so I can breathe for ten more seconds before doing it again. They scheduled me for surgery on the 23rd of April, which actually fits in quite nicely with my busy social schedule of May. And by social schedule, I mean working at the bar.

Copycat!

Apparently, I want to be just like DD!

I had my appointment at the Ear, Nose, and Throat Dr. today. He looked in my nose, said that I wasn't all stuffed up. He looked in my ears and told me my left ear has fluid in it. Then he looked in my throat and yelled "Oh MY GOD!" And then he apologized and said he needed to work on his bedside manner. Because my tonsils are HUGE. He asked me if I was feeling tired during the day because I'm at risk for sleep apnea when they are this big. He explained that my tonsils are basically dead as infection filters. And I can have surgery if I want, or I can wait to see if it clears up on it's own.

I opted for surgery.

It's been a year and seven infections later, I'm not going to put up with it anymore. Plus, I have good insurance so I might as well do it before I lose it. And I have enough sick time to take off for a week and not miss out on any money. I don't have a personal care provider, so I'll have to find one before S-day. Feel free to leave a resume in the comments!

In other more important news, I finally got my Mighty Girl shirt in the mail! Did you know I ordered one? I did! And it fits! And it's fucking awesome!

What Can I Say?

Not a whole lot lately. My voice tends to fade in the evening time to a hoarse whisper, and I wake up in the morning with next to nothing. Afternoons aren't too bad. I need to be chewing gum or taking sips of water constantly. I'm really glad to be going ot the Doctor on Wednesday. That's really going to help me right now. With my luck, my tonsils will probably return to normal size and there will be no sign of any infection or disease.

I had a late night and an early morning today, made worse by not taking a nap in the afternoon. I finally showered at 2 pm, when I had great expectations of going to Ross for some shopping. Unfortunately, I sat down on the couch after I got ready and I fell asleep for two hours. Now, I keep finding myself staring at the TV, where Pirates of the Caribbean is playing, and I can't seem to keep my mouth shut out of wonder. I love taking naps, but I hate when I can't get myself out of the nap funk. Not that Pirates isn't a kick-ass movie to watch wide eyed with wonder. But when I find myself gaping in awe at the supercharged V8 juice commercial, I know something is off.

Earlier, Hunter was standing in front of me and making a very squeaky, high pitch whine. He does that to me a lot, when he feels I'm not paying him proper attention while I'm doing things like getting dressed, blow drying my hair, and being generally occupied with a task. Times when I'm doing nothing and I want him to cuddle with me, he seems to be sleeping in another room with his precious stuffed animals. He's also decided that our bed is mostly his and he is entitled to sleeping horizontally across it. Never mind that he is as long as the bed is wide. And that he chooses to sleep in the very center of it. Of course this means that I am now sleeping in a little ball at the top of the bed. No wonder I sleep so well after he goes outside at 5 AM. If my room was bigger, he would totally be sleeping on his own bed...on the floor!

JBelle was surprisingly sweet to me this weekend. Generally, she chooses Gramma to be her source of comfort and cuddle but this weekend she let me hold and smoosh on her. It could be that I am spending more time with her, now that I'm not occupied on the weekends with other things, things less important than her much to my dismay. We went to a cookout on Saturday afternoon, hosted by her mother's boyfriend. When we went to leave, JBelle said to me "I don't want you to go. I want to go with you to gamma's house,' in a very sad, whiny voice. She's never done that to me before, as she's generally esctatic to be with her mother again. It made it very hard to put her down and leave the party. It would have helped if she would have thown a block at my head like she had been all afternoon.

Hit By Bus

My body hurts right now. It started on Tuesday night, around midnight. I woke up and I couldn't breathe anymore. I groggily attributed it to not taking any allergy meds that day, so I grabbed the benedryl next the bed and took one. Morning comes, still can't breathe and my tonsils are swollen (again). I take some Walmart brand Claritin, doesn't help. I take some Sudafed. Helps a little. After lunch, I realize my back feels like I slept on a brick wall, my neck is sore.

I'm pretty sure these are the symptoms of that Meningococcal virus.*EDIT* Although, after googling it, I am sure I do not. Whew!

I'm sure it doesn't help that the bar was actually busy last night, so I did not get to leave early (at 11) like I was hoping. I made fifty bucks though. So not all is lost. Only my health, and I'll sleep when I'm dead.

I'm actually concerned about what to do for my poor, infected tonsils. This makes at least the seventh illness in one years time. Last March, I can back from Ohio with a terrible cold that seems to be recurring. It's not tonsillitis, but it's something related to them. I've been on anti-biotics three times, and sick without meds at least that many times. I went to an ear, nose, and throat Dr. this past summer, and he told me unless I had 6 or more infections, they don't like to removed the tonsils. I'm tired of this though. I don't like getting these wimpy colds every few months. I hate taking meds. I don't want to have surgery, but I'm about to lose my health care for a bit and if I'm going to do surgery, I should do it while I have great coverage and sick leave.

Although, we'd have to get my laid back, reluctant to prescribe meds, let it run its course Dr. to agree to something serious like surgery and pain meds!

PS. It's freaking SNOWING!

She Hung Up On Me

I will give you the scenario and you have to guess who hung up on me. It's way easy.

Her: Um, what the fuck is this "I heart liberals" crap?

CLICK.

I'm sorry? It's not that I don't heart Republicans. I'm a closet Democrat (fuck, there I go outing myself...again...sorry mom.)and I will most likely end up voting for a Democrat in the next election. Unless it's Hilary, as I am done with both the Bush family and the Clinton family. This is not a type of monarchy! I suppose I'm more of a moderate than anything else. I can't pick red or blue. I hate that our country is so torn down the middle on what side you are on. Because none of the issues we fight about are ever so black and white. And if the issues aren't black and white, how can I pick a side? I don't ever want to have an abortion, but I can't say that someone else shouldn't. I certainly can't agree with homosexuality being wrong. The social issues have us fighting against each other, and no one really thinks or talks about the rest of the spectrum. Can we lay off the gays and the abortions and focus on the war, the economy, and our rights, our environment? We're supposed to be the best, what if we fall apart?

It's a scary place to live right now, if you really stop to think about it. I think I'd like to take up farming. So I have a food supply when the world shuts down.

Tuesday Again

I've noticed that I've been posting regularly on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I think this has something to do with working later on these nights. Apparently, I can't post if someone is around.

I changed my work schedule around so I can go to spin class on Mondays and Wednesdays. So far I've gone to three classes and I'm doing pretty good. It's not easy though. I don't keep up with the instructor when he/she goes to resistance level five, but I will soon. I've also started lifting afterwards with L, so it's turning into a full on workout. I even did sit ups. And gosh, I hate those. But thanks to Abs of Steel, I have a pretty good variety of them. I'm just really glad that no one at the gym wears tights with thong leotards like the women on the Abs of Steel VHS.

I got a text message today from someone and he called me Cutie. To me, there are only certain people who can get away with the pet names so soon in the game. These are people who call everyone by pet names, mostly because they can't remember your name. BB was one of those people. I could probably add up all the times he said my name on two hands. And it works okay for him. This particular guy? Not so much. Plus, do you really want to call the woman you like a word that's much more applicable for 5 year olds?

Boyproof*. Or Effectively Outing Myself.

I don't know who reads this blog. I think at one point I put the link to it on my AIM profile. So there is a chance that there are people out there reading it and I have no idea. Maybe my teenage cousin, or someone from OWU, or a random kid from HS (doubtful). Some of my close friends don't even read this. My mother does. Maybe work people do too.

So maybe some of you will be shocked. I don't care. I've dealt with so many rumors and stories about this already that it's old news to me.

I'm dating a girl.

I suppose I could keep this all under wraps and never mention it. I could hide it all. But I can't see why I should. Chances are it's not going to be the last time I date a girl. And maybe it will turn into a real relationship and be a huge part of my life and who I am. I don't know yet. But I'm not going to hide it. And maybe I'm lucky because I have a huge group of people who are either super supportive or they just don't see a problem with it.

I met L months ago. Back in the fall, when I first ventured out on a Friday night when I couldn't get a hold of BB. This was back when I didn't know a lot of people at the bar, I had just started working. L was out with a girl I did happen to know a little bit. (Actually, our friend in common used to date BB and she told me a few things about him that night. Hindsight, such a fucking bitch.) L and I and our friend went out to her car to take shots of jager. L said that she was a lesbian, and she might try to make out with me since I'm cute and I shouldn't let her. She didn't try, and I left with BB a little bit later.

A few months ago, I saw her at Ross in Pueblo. I didn't say anything to her and I don't think she even saw me. Since then I've seen her at the bar and we've talked in passing. I hardly know her.

So it bugs me that I cannot remember how it happened. What I said that lead her to say "Can we go somewhere else? Can we go upstairs?" I have never been so bold or interested with a guy I met at Manhattans. Not even BB. He and I never went upstairs. I've never given my phone number to a guy while there. Some girls I've befriended, yes. Of all the men I could have in that place, I go upstairs with a girl. And give her my phone number.

I'm not one of those girls to get drunk and make out with girls to turn on the men around me. That's not why I did it. And for a few days after it happened, I had no idea that it would turn into this. It sort of seemed like a drunken encounter. But it's way bigger than that now.

*Boyproof is actually a YA novel about a girl who isn't interested in any boys until one special ones comes along and convinces her otherwise. I thought the title would be better for a girl/girl story.

Officially

Hello darlings.

I had a day off yesterday. It was lovely. I woke up at L's house and we ran around town in the morning. I suppose I meant to get my car fixed, but I had neglected to call about that before Monday morning so I'll have to do it some other time. I got to Denver in time for lunch (Drunken Noodles and Thai Ice Tea), did a little shopping (Red Currant candle smells so amazing),got gelato, and watched a movie (Happy Endings). I love lazy, plan-less days like this. Like Stina said on Friday, her plan was just to "get wasted" because who needs plans.

We did not get wasted on on Friday. That's what a trip to Flo-town mid-evening does to you. It makes it impossible to get drunk. You just get tired. Then you go to Denny's and share a plate of French fries while wishing you were at home in bed.

Dana straighten my hair on Friday night, and no one recognized me at the bar. It's kind of annoying. I love my curls. They are me and they are my signature. So it's unnerving when people tell me how sexy I look with straight hair. Or how much more they like it. It's insulting to how I look everyday. It's a fun change, sure. But I hardly wear make up on non-bar nights. I'm not going to take 40 minutes a day to flat iron my hair straight. I'm not giving up my mornings to make myself look sexier. I'm not sexy, I'm cute. I know I'm pretty, but I want to be pretty because I look like myself. I don't want to be an illusion. I don't want to be one of those girls who wakes up in the morning and needs to put make up on before she can walk out the door, or complains how she looks like shit at breakfast. Make up doesn't really make you look prettier. It just covers the little flaws that the people who care about you don't care about anyways. And that's why I'm offended that people told me I look "hotter" with straight hair. Thank goodness I chose to go with someone who knows me with curly hair and no eye liner.

Bark, Bark

Last night, after I got home from working at the bar, I took the last Benadryl in the house that my mom left out for me. I've been suffering through constant draining of my head, sore throat, and coughing due to some nasty ass allergies that are resistant to Claritin. It's actually so bad that I've had a terrible time sleeping, thus the need for Benadryl. And I slept SO WELL. I didn't even wake up till my alarm went off. I love mornings like that.

Mornings I do not love are ones where I have to go find my large Lab o'Lovin and punish his chubby belly. We've been having huge problems keeping Hunty in the yard. At this point, I'm not sure how he's getting out. We've put up taller fencing on two sides, some electric fencing around the bottom of one side, and the other side has two layers of fence. He's still getting out. I think he may be jumping the back fence and getting to the field for freedom now. This morning when I got up, I let Emma in but there was no Hunter in the yard. I shouted for him, in my nice scratchy, almost non-existent voice. I see no brown blur coming to me. I hear barking. So I brush my teeth, put in my contacts, put on shorts and a tee shirt. I can tell it's Hunter barking, and he's in someones barn or garage. As I walk down the street, the barking gets louder as I come to the barn. Our neighbors have a bloodhound, not a mean one, but not a very nice one either. I'm not looking forward to having to step on to her territory to retrieve my dog. I'm also worried that he's gotten himself trapped somehow and possibly gnawing off his legs in between barks. I approach the door to the shed, and see Hunter's back end. I said, "Hunter. Come." and he turns around and runs to me like I may have just saved his life. Right in front of him is Peaches, the blood hound, and she clearly was not going to let him past her. So I saved him from a possible beating from Peaches. However, he still got punished and is now tied up to the back porch. I'm not letting my baby get killed because he's too stupid to look for cars. And I'd really like the binge eating to stop. It's not an attractive look. I like my Labs to look more like dogs and less like barrels.

And Then I Bought A Plane Ticket

So. I bought a ticket to Ohio. For June. Two Weeks. AWESOME.

Oh, you're leaving your job and moving to Denver before that?

WHO CARES!

I love me some Ohio. In my defense, I was going to go to Ohio in June anyways for a friend's wedding that I feel I simply have to witness. And why not make it two weeks? That way I can see everyone and it's not a rushed thing.

And, you know what. If Denver doesn't work out before that, I may just move myself there in June.

Denver is still up in the air. I haven't heard from my roommates in a while, and they haven't heard from the Dr. telling them if the brother has cancer again. Back in February, when I talked to Liz, it all seemed like it was falling into place. I had broken up with BB, and moving to Denver was finally working out for me. And now...it's not.

And I don't mind postponing again. But what if I'm postponing something that just isn't going to happen EVER. When I could be making plans for something else. I'm sort of lost, to be quite honest. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing. In my eyes, or in God's eyes. And sometimes I feel like I dug myself in to a black hole with my faith and I need to get back up there to fix it all, but how?

I sent a friend who used to live in Denver an email today asking if his old roommate still needed a roommate. Because I reached a straw today at work, and I think it's the final one.

Hello Poohbear!

Hi guys! I mean, DD! Hi! I know you've been busy with law, Dunc, and other things you do on your own time, but I'm sure you've checked my page and you're probably sick of my Open Letter. Hmm, me too.

Anyways. I have been out drinking a lot. I do that a lot now. It may be why I'm beginning to notice that my stomach is looking different these days and I'm not sure I like it. So I took up running to combat the effects of all the shots I'm taking. Last night I took five, but I ran almost a mile and I also walked for two. See, I am battling the bulge.

I went to a concert last night with the DPH, and it was pretty kick-ass. We had a table right up front with space to dance. And dance we did, in between the shot taking and the picture taking. Apparently, I am a fish. Evidence lies not only in my ability to drink 1 beer, 2 mixed drinks, 2 jager bombs, 2 red headed sluts, and 1 raspberry lemon drop but also in the many pics of my fish face. Unfortunately, I also met some guy. Usually I meet lots of guys and do a pretty good job of treating them like I am not interested. Because I am not. I am not interested. But sometimes, after a few drinks, I forget that I am not interested and some persistent idiot snatches me up. They then proceed to compel me into dancing with them, or taking shots, or having general conversation. All these things that I am capable of avoiding when sober. Sadly, last night I was not sober and found myself with a boyfriend. A kiss you on the cheek when he leaves the room boyfriend. Now, I had me one of those not long ago. And I liked him. But I do not like it when a boy whose name I could not remember, who also has a fucking lhasa apso with a little bed in his bedroom, and a pom pom ski hat on, kisses my cheek. It may have helped his case had he not been a terrible kisser, but sadly the little dog may be my one and only deal breaker that I will follow through on even if the boy is charming, cute, well dressed, melt in your mouth yummy. If my dog is bigger than yours, I'm going to say goodnight now. (Which leaves out everyone except the Great Dane dog owners, and that's exactly the kind of dog I want next so call me!)

Speaking of dogs, Hunter made me laugh out loud for a good five minutes last night. He's been getting out of the yard, so we put up a nice electric fence to keep him in. When I got home last night (at 4:45) I let Hunter out so I could sleep in peace. I got all comfy in bed, closed my eyes, and hear "eipp eipp ow eippp...scramble on porch...WOOF." Ya'll, Hunter got SHOCKED. And serves him right. I told him not to touch it.

An Open Letter To The 19 Year Old Dating My Ex-Boyfriend

Hi. We haven't met. And probably never will. But I know just what you're going through. You're probably elated because you're dating BB. You're gushing to everyone about him because it's all exciting and new, there are parties to go to, and people to meet. Hell, you're dating the Canon City Kid. Everyone loves him. He's fucking famous. And he takes you to dinner, and buys you drinks (good thing you got that fake ID, huh? Too bad someone told me about it and I had to have you kicked out last weekend. Sorry, but not really. I'm a pretty cool ex-girlfriend, but I'm not that cool!) He's hard to get a hold of, but he usually calls you back. He's just a busy man, honey. Really, he's not ignoring your calls. Oh, and baby? He calls you that, right? Dollface? My love? Of course he does. It's because he forgot your name. But it's ok. It's been a month, he probably knows it by now. Speaking of a month, you are probably calling him your boyfriend. Or at least everyone is telling you that's what he is. What with the sleepovers, the dates, the way he looks at you, the pet names. It certainly seems serious. It's not, I'm sorry. It's not that he doesn't admit to "hanging out" with you, because he will, under pressure. But any attempt to fix your name (Baby) to "my girlfriend" just won't happen. He just doesn't want to be taken off the table in this girl's eyes(this being whatever girl he's talking to at the bar that night). He's not really cheating on you, (oh he is. Trust me.) he's just keeping his options open. I'm sure he's mostly sleeping with you. And the sex? Well, there's not much to say about that now, is there?

I know I'm being a heinous bitch right now. But you're 19. And 19 year olds are gargantuan imbeciles. It's ok, my brother is 19 and I don't think too highly of him right now either. I'm not biased toward you, the new girl, I dislike all 19 year olds. If I saw you on the street, I'd be polite. I'm so sorry BB is doing this to you. You're not ready to handle the implications of a man like him. You need to find your self a nice, 20 year old boy. This way you aren't stuck at home, wondering who BB is taking home tonight (Not me, although he has). And maybe when that 20 year old boy breaks your heart, it will hurt a little less. Because you are playing with fire and I guarantee you will be the one who gets hurt. That man is hurt by very few things, and you do not know him well enough to know where to strike. I did and probably do love him (not in love with him, mind you) but we had a relationship for a long time and I will not allow myself to regret it because I fought for it. But I wish someone would have stood in front of me, when I first started dating him, and told me exactly what he is. No one did. They stood in front of me, and patted him on the back, called him a "fun guy", and asked him for new tires. No one showed me what notch I am on his bedpost. And that's what you are, honey. Just a notch on a bedpost.

Are You There, God? It's Me, Jessica.

I don't know if it's because I came back from Ohio a month ago today, but I have noticed that the thought of moving to Ohio keeps coming back to me. And actually looking like a good idea.

I love it here. I'm even going to admit that I'm a little bit comfortable in Canon now. I want to move to Denver, but it's not such a desperate thing anymore. I've found a little place here, I just know I can't stay forever.

I love Colorado. I like the weather, except this winter of storms that I hate with all my little black heart. I like the friends I've made, here and in Denver. I like JBelle. Ok, LOVE her. I guess I like my family. It's nice to have them close, but I really only see them sporadically. Not that I really do any of this, but I like knowing I could go rock climbing, skiing, whitewater rafting, hiking, rodeo-ing, hot springing...one of those is a lie and I have no desire to do...I like the activeness of this state. Something the Midwest sort of lacks.

I hate humidity. I don't have a lake attachment. I don't miss grey, dreary days in winter. I do love to shop. A large group of my friends are there. Along with my college mentors who would slap me silly for being so lax on my fiction/playwrighting. My church is there. My heart and my support system to keep me strong and give me common sense is there.

And I'm here, enjoying the weather. There is something wrong with that.

Belle Likes The Box

During the week, this box passes as a coffee table. But that is not it's true purpose. Only JBelle can properly use it:
















Here, JBelle is being a copycat. Which is exactly what I wanted her to do when I started saying "Poohbear" in a British accent. That girl, she is smart.















Here she is not being a copycat. Here she is being shy, she knows how to smile and when to do it. Instead, she'd rather chew on her salty, Playdoh fingers and squinch her eyes shut.













Although she has a hood, she would rather be wearing my hat. Fortunately, a hat JUST LIKE IT arrived at my house today and she will no longer need to take my hat. However, I have the distinct feeling that she will continue to want mine and insist I wear hers. And maybe they are identical, but she will know.













Hunter says "Hi, can I bark at you" but in a slow, deep, Southern, backwoods voice. Because he's stupid.

Because Who Wants Chlamydia When You Can Have Cake?

DD sent me this article on "Loose Women".

I don't agree with the author of Unhooked, I don't think that girls need to stay home and bake cakes in order to keep themselves from getting hurt in a loveless, casual hookup. But nor do I agree with girls getting so drunk they can't remember who they took home that night. It's all about your choice, though. And where your comfort zone is. I have friend who choose not to engage in much of anything with a non-significant other, and I have friends who do bring home acquaintances at the end of the night. Much to my mother's dismay, I fall in the middle of those two sides. It's ok to choose to stay away from random hook-ups, and it's ok to seek them out. It's not ok when you are too drunk to make an informed decision about what happens at the end of the night, and your friends don't stop you from making a decision that you will regret in the morning.

My friends and I joke that "girls are the new guys" in that we don't want to find ourselves in relationships, getting serious, and falling in love. In college, almost all my friends were not in relationships. We couldn't imagine being like the few that were engaged and planning weddings for the summer. We spent our nights out together, and rarely did one of us leave with a guy. We were also all sorority sisters, and I feel that's important because the article mentions how some girls ended an event with consensual sex with their dates. Not to say this never happen, but as a Greek, it's my job to stand up for the sorority girls who didn't engage in that kind of stereotypical behavior at every event. We didn't go to college to find ourselves in love. We went for ourselves and an education. Of course, we all had random hookups. And for the most part, they were not detrimental to our over all health. We aren't damaged from loveless sex. We aren't hurt by a "hookup" that doesn't turn into a relationship. And if I can't get a man to marry me because I had casual sex, then we are from different worlds and probably shouldn't marry.

Working at the bar here in Canon, I see a huge difference in sexual encounters. While we are still around the same age, there is a gap in social status and education. People here are looking for that one person to make them happy. They get angry after a hookup doesn't turn out to be more. They get jealous over who goes home with who at the end of the night. Now that I'm single and people know it, there's pressure on me to go on a date with someone, or dance with them, and talk to them. Before in college, I didn't feel like a conversation with a guy would end with a trip to bed. Here I'm almost afraid to be nice because it's expected that if you are friendly, then you must be willing to go to bed with him or her.

Maybe this is just the bar scene, and it's like that all over. Or maybe it's a small town thing, where guys and girls are so desperate to get out that they do radical things to make themselves feel better and less trapped. Whatever it is, I'm not willing to find myself looking for someone to save me. I'd rather be the "new guys."

I Like Country

I usually don't deviate far from my angry, rocker boy bands when picking music for my car. I love my few indy bands that were given to me in college. And I like music that's really only acceptable in a bar after 10 PM and a three drink minimum.

But right now I'm on a country kick. There really is nothing better for a broken heart than a great country song. The rocker boys only get angry, unless it's Something Corporate and that's just too emo for me. The indy crowd is too philosophical about it. And I do not even want to think about "Smack that" right about now.

Country is just the right blend of anger and sadness. And also drunkenness, don't forget that.

Plus country seems to still have a large contingent of female vocalists, something that the pop culture seems to lack right now. Am I wrong in thinking that? So many artists right now are men, groups of men. Am I looking in the wrong place for women? I struggle to find a good female artist every week at karaoke and I almost always end up doing a song sung by a man. And I like singing country, since I'm better at country because I am country, but I also like singing songs people enjoy hearing. And I'm guessing my limit for the Dixie Chicks and Rascal Flatts are almost up.

TextSpeak

I am borrowing this idea from Que Sera Sera

I don't get a lot of texts, although yesterday prompted me to announce I may need to get more added to my plan. Maybe it's because I'm loved and the love was being shown through texts yesterday. Whatever happened to actually talking on a phone?

So here are some of my best texts since I got my new phone:

An Sandra was drinkin'

Tortilla Chip!

You just don't want me to know about it...silly girl...I'm sending your xmas gift back.

That lusty month of May. Do U remember who played the kooky old knight?

At least this Guinevere isn't on crack.

Thank u love u whore

I really want to insert a herpes comment

lol are you sure your not makin out

John wants to go drunken sledding tonight

Where is my prince charming

No seriously where is mine

lol um I always thought I was a loser

Did you hear how Hollywood is coming out with a new movie called constipated...it hasn't come out yet.

Happy Valentine's day my little dirty pirate tramps. cause no one really gets paid!

You know what I just realized it's the day after tomorrow come true. Man's pollution has caused an ice age.

I Thought Colorado Was Sunny.

Such cruel tricks the air currents above us right now are playing on me. Granted, Ohio is getting dumped on and it's merely grey here. But yesterday I was wearing a dress and no hose and I was able to walk down the street without my coat on.

I should have moved to Austin.

Sometimes I think about doing that. Just moving there and seeing what happens. I'm not really worried about whether or not I'd find friends or if I'd miss home. I don't want to leave because of what I'd miss out in JBelle's life. I moved back home with no friends close by, and once I finally started working at the bar I made friends. (I could have earlier, but I didn't try) I've already lived away from home and family and I did just fine.

But even when I'm gone for a weekend, I miss out on her life. I can't have a relationship with her through speakerphone. I don't want her to ask me "You see me TOMORROW?" when we talk. Because I wouldn't see her tomorrow. I probably wouldn't see her until a few months of tomorrow's have gone by. And she's not even three, she's not going to remember me. And I don't want to make her get to know me all over again. I want to be around for the times when she says silly things to us, or calls me her "Beff Friend!" I can't imagine leaving her. I can't imagine my life without her.

So for now, I'll only move two hours away. And one day, when she's older, maybe I will move to Austin. Or Florida. Or Iowa. Or Italy, when I finally run away from the scam that is Sallie Mae.

Six More Things

Well, Amy said I should! And it's not like there are only six.

Six Weird Things About Me

1)I don't like goat cheese. And I can always tell if what I'm eating is goat cheese. Even if you promise me that it's so mild, just like non-goat cheese, you can't tell at all. I CAN TELL. And I will think it's awful and that it tastes just like how a goat pen smells.

2) I can wiggle my ears. Or, rather, I can flap them. Also, right before I start to cry, I flare my nostrils really big.

3) I've never had boy friends. When I was younger, and home schooled, all my friends were boys except one girl when I was nine. But once I started school and made friends, none of them have been boys. Until now. Now I have the "Team" and it's kind of nice to have guy friends that you don't want to sleep with, nor do they want to sleep with you. The bad side of that is their girlfriends get irrationally jealous of you. *Note to self- Do not attempt to be a decent human being and prevent drunk friend from driving home.*

4)I'm obsessed with finding funny blogs. And reading all their archives as fast as I possibly can. So far I'm in love with Dooce, Amalah, Schnozzfest, Miss Doxie, and Whoopee. And if you know of any other I would adore, please let me know. Sometimes I get really bored during the day and I need something to read. And when I say sometimes, I mean pretty much any day of the week.

5) I am a music whore. I make terrible mixed CD's. So I never make them for people. But I love to get them. What's even worse is that I expect them. And that's why Annushka won't make me any more CD's. Because I am banned until I make her one. Except she forgot when I was leaving her that she had put up a music to Jess ban and she made me a CD anyways.

6) I like to be reading at least three books at one time. And I get myself confused by this. Because I tend to pick out a lot of historical fiction, mostly in the 1500's in England. They all kind of overlap in my mind, and as I'm reading I will get angry because the author is no longer talking about Anne Boleyn, but Queen Elizabeth the First, and that is at least 30 years later and you can't just jump around like that, oh...wrong book. God, this book is so good, I wonder what else she writes.

And Then I Spent A Lot Of Money

Ok, so I didn't take any pictures of the DPH this weekend. I packed the camera in my purse, and promptly forgot to bring it into the bar with me. But that's ok, since it wasn't a crazy fun Friday night like the times before. Just your general, run of the mill drunken night out at Manhattans.

Today I went shopping instead of spending the day on the couch which was a really good idea because I needed to spend a lot of money. I must be feeling poorly. I'm not sure, I try not to feel much right now, thus the drunken nights at Manhattans. Shopping sure helped though. I just wish I would have gotten the skis, bindings, and boots at the sports store. That would make me feel fantastic! Although, Hunter laying on my lap right now helps too.

I also got an exercise ball with a DVD since I have no idea what one does on a blow up ball. But I'm getting tired of the snow and cold keeping me from walking at least a mile and a half. It was only ten bucks too! If only I can keep Hunty from popping it.

My largest, and possibly most regretful purchase was that of two pairs of Silver jeans. I really don't have a problem with buying somewhat expensive jeans, since I don't wear them much and it's nice to not have to buy them often. But I have a problem in picking jeans out. I don't really pick out flattering cuts. I just don't know how. So I really shouldn't have picked some expensive jeans from Dillards, because Dillards is not as cool as Gap is with the whole taking the tags off policy. Not that I have taken tags off a pair of Gap jeans, worn them, washed them, and returned them after realizing they looked awful on me. No, I've never done that.

My Weekends Start On Wednesday

It's true.

I'll gather some photo evidence this weekend of all the Dirty, Pirate, Hooker things I engage in.

A Return That Sparked A Lot Of Glee And Possibly Skipping To The Bar Last Night

When I pulled onto Main last night to park in front of the bar, I scanned the cars to see who was working with me. To my complete surprise, Chris's Jeep was there and it may have incited a little bit of a party in my car as I crossed the double yellow lines to park next to him. (Ok, three cars down, but so close!) Chris has been gone for the past two weeks on account of his wife having the baby two weeks early. And he could not have disappeared on us (being Zach and me) at a worst possible time. We are a team, and we needed our team leader! Ok, maybe Zach didn't but Zach has Chris's number and I do not so he could logically get in touch with him while I was left in the dark!

Anyways, he's back. And I may have bounded into the bar and crashed into him saying (screaming?) "I'm so glad you're BACK." Thus prompting Rich to excuse himself from behind the bar so we could "catch up." God, not like that. He's like my brother for crying out loud. A brother who may have unzipped my shirt last night, but that's only because I was asking for it. Come on, who wears a zip up shirt to the bar? Only someone who is asking for it, and that's why I stayed behind the bar all night because more sketchy guys were there and I am no fool. Chris's advice to me is that I have to watch out for the persistent guys because they are the most trouble. Only certain men will continue to pester a women into giving out her number and I want none of those men. Persistence is a virtue, but in this case it's just obnoxious. I don't give out my number at work, unless you are a girl or old childhood friend. Even then I usually get their number for the sake of appearances. Plus, there is no way I want some drunk boy's number when he graduated in 2004. Please, boy, you wouldn't even be out of college yet.

Anyways, Chris and I had a lovely time catching up on all that went down at the bar while he was gone. No sooner than he found out I am single now, did he start scheming to Marry me Off to his friend Ryan. Actually, I'm pretty sure the scheming started the night before I became single, two weeks ago, when he started going into the virtues of Ryan and how he just wants him to have a nice girl. Chris likes to set me up, although the last time was ill-fated even if his friend was nice. Just not my type at all, even if he just signed a very important contract for a very large sum of money. But Chris is not just conspiring to get us dating. He is trying to marry us off, so we can live in Canon and have dinner parties at his house and babysit Ace for him, and play on some intramural couple softball team.

I don't have the heart to tell him I'm moving to Denver.

I Need An Intervention Right About Now

I had a conversation with someone last week about how I have standards now, and those standards are no kids, no wife, no drugs, must have a job, and college. Hey! Good standards.

Let's go back to last Wednesday at the bar. I was behind the bar, and some guy kept talking to me. I don't remember his name, just like i don't remember anyone's name since they are not important and I don't care. Also, I must meet you at least three times and be told your name as many in order to remember you. This guy has two kids, his wife left him two months ago, he smokes pot, I'm pretty sure he's been to jail, and I don't think he has a job.

And he wants my number so we can go on a date.

Him: Go out with me.
Me: No, I just broke up with my boyfriend on Sunday.

Repeat. Like 4 times.

Fast forward to today. Same man walks into the children's section of the library. Where I am working. Without Deb, who I had previously warned that said man might come into the library and she was to make me go do something when that happened.

But now he's gone and gone without a promise of a date from me. Because I attract losers. Losers who show up to my work. And I dated the last loser who showed up to my work for five months. Gah!

*EDIT*

I know three weeks ago, I would have never posted that about BB. My friend may think he's a loser, but I know how that would make him feel and I was never one to hurt him. Perhaps he was never as aware of my feelings and how his actions may affect them as he should have been. And while that's wrong, it's not as if I haven't had that happen to me before by someone who did love me, who still does love me, and who I still have a meaningful relationship with. People can do awful things to those they love for reasons that are so beyond me. I'm sure I have, and I don't know if you can point out someone who hasn't. So I don't really mean to call BB a loser. But he and I both know that I am far too amazing to be with him. And those are his words, not mine.

Infiltrating The Other Team

It seems that I have found a clique. Well, to be quite honest, it's a gang. Here in Colorado, a gang is defined by more than four members that have a symbol. The gang I'm joining is known as the DPH, which stands for Dirty Pirate Hookers. Here is part of the gang, one is missing:














This is the most bad-ass pirate group you'll ever meet. I'd advise you not to mess with them. Like they said "You date one of us, you date us all."

PS. My "initiation" will be complete when I start drinking a bottle of Captain and once I pass out and knock over the bottle, I'm totally in. That's way more pirate like than actually drinking the whole bottle.

That Other Post Was Getting Long

If you want to read Part One of my trip to Ohio, go here.

Tuesday: I can't remember Tuesday morning. I think I slept in. Till 10. I met Sally for lunch at Tony Packo's, the non-glitzy one since it was closer. She also showed me the house her boss is building. I know, how awesome! Then more rehab in the evening so she could finally finish the paper! Which she did.

Wednesday: This morning I got up early so I could be ready in time for a quick trip through Sally's office before lunch at the yatch club with Jane, and the g-rents, and all their friends. Most of these friends are in their late 80's and early 90's. It was the most entertaining lunch I have ever been to. One woman, Naomi, showed up about an hour late. She said it was because she was worried about the snow and getting back up her driveway. Her friend told her to "Just gun it!" Naomi won't reveal her age, but she did say that the next week would be her 68th wedding anniversary. So Rose asked her how old she was when she got married, and Naomi said "Old enough to know better." They were a dynamic group!

After lunch, Sally and I finally accomplished something we do so well. Shopping. We didn't get crazy shopping, since we were going to go to Ann Arbor the next day for Outlet shopping. Although I did buy two corsets and Sally bought one. We also went into a little photo booth, hoping that we were going to take the little black and white photos on a strip. Instead, we got some wackjob computer artist who sketched us out in pixels. He kept saying stupid things too, like "Oh my, are you a model" and "oops, let me just erase that." But we did get a really fab printout for all our suffering.

Thursday: Thursday morning, we got up early (9) to get ready for the drive to Ann Arbor. Once we got our Timbits fix and TimmyHo's coffee (omg, did I not know coffee from TimmyHo's was amazing when I was at school?) we trekked into Michigan for some deals. And we spent a lot of money. But we got some cute stuff. For example: J Crew embossed beach dress, rainboots (that are not DG even if they have anchors on them, thank you very much), Banana shoes, Banana skirt, sweaters, and lord knows what else. After spending so much money, we went to AA to see where Sally is going to do her Teaching Thing. It was freezing there, but we found a Starbucks. Apparently, so had everyone else in Ann Arbor. Two story Starbucks, and nowhere to sit! We finally snagged a table and had some good Coffee Shop Talk.

Thursday night was a trip to Doc Watsons for med/law/nurse school night out. Unfortunately, I did not find a husband there. It must have been my terrible skills at pool. After we left the bar, we took Ben home. And since Nick was in bed sleeping, we decided that jumping on him would be a good idea. I backed out at the last possible second and let Ben take on Nick because in my experience with men and sleeping, someone's gonna get a black eye. Fortunately, no one got a black eye but somehow all four of us ended up in bed together. At least Nick was wearing pants.

Friday: Slept till 12:30. Watched a few hours of DVR'ed TV. Went for a long walk. In a knitted hat with bear ears. And puppet mittens. We made sloppy joes for dinner, just like we used to do at OWU. No green beans from a can though. After dinner, Sally and I tried to stay awake but we ended up falling asleep on the couch, while wearing our knitted hats.

Saturday: Woke up at 4 AM. Dragged my stuffed to the gills bag down the stairs. Went to Timmy Ho's. Coffee and a ten-pack, my love! Drove to MI and at the airport I was informed that my bag was four pounds too heavy, so I removed a jacket and she said she "would take it at 52." That's right, biotch.



I still miss being there.

I'm A Celebrity!

I'm back from Toledo and missing it like whoa. I want to write down each day for my own records. Well, that and I don't want to post some sad, inadequate post about how much I miss being there.

Friday: I love direct flights. Now that I've had two trips of direct flights, I never want to stop mid-flight again. I arrived in Detroit about 15 minutes early. Thus preventing Sally from getting to the baggage claim, or even the airport, before I had my bags and was waiting outside. She had some grand scheme of pictures taken while I descended the stairs, just like a princess or something. Once that was ruined, we loaded my heavy bag into the car and hugged awkwardly because when you're parked in the no parking zone at the airport, you feel like you must hurry, hurry, hurry or they are going to cart you away and impound your car.

Sally had a fever, so she felt awful on the drive from Detroit to Toledo. But then she took meds and the drive down to Columbus was so lovely and chatty. But also long, and the gas gauge kept dropping at an alarming rate. We finally arrived at dinner, Moretti's, where Sarah, Hallie, and Allison were waiting. They didn't even eat bread until we go there. That's how nice they are. We quickly ordered a bottle of wine, ate some bread, and ordered our food. The wine was good, a second bottle was ordered and the first bottle was given to the "wine man" who walked around the kitchen for the rest of the evening trying to make the whistle sound out of the bottle top. He succeeded!

After dinner, Sarah, Sally, Hallie, and I went out on High Street. And we had a good time. How good a time, I can't really say. There were martini's, crowded law school bar, a sketchy looking place called the Beer Stuebe, a helmet, face licking, cab ride, chips, and a conversation on IM about pickles. And then three girls passed out in a full sized bed. It was a good night. With a morning made so much better by Tim Horton's TimBits.

Saturday: After my Timbit fix, I laid around with Sarah watching the Food Network before meeting Kirstin, Krista, and Liz at Sheridan's. Which was closed! Damn them. So we went to Camille's for lunch and sat around for a few hours catching up. Then there was a mad dash to Delaware for the Yarn Store, which was closed. So we drove back to Toledo so we could have enough time to have dinner and get dressed before the party at the Blarney. The place was packed. A band was playing some great Irish songs, and many drinks were being consummed by me. The night ended with a trip to McDonalds. A place I have avoided since the last time I was in Toledo, starving in the middle of the night, about four years ago.

Sunday : I slept till noon. Took a walk with Sally and Bilge, the Prince. Went to a coffee shop so Sally could research. Read a book, tried to watch Grey's online but it kept freezing since I was steeling 2 much bandwidth. Then there was yummy Jane and Tom dinner and TV watching. I may be addicted to What About Brian now.

Monday: Slept till 10, while Sally went to work, the poor dear. Camille picked me up so we could have lunch at University of Toledo. I discovered that all Universities get rice from the same place. And U of T is of such high caliber that they have University of Toledo water glasses and forks. After a lovely U of T lunch, I went to the yarn store with Jane. Which is the whole reason I came to Toledo, like I told that nice boy at the bar on Saturday. He didn't believe me. I bought a lot of yarn, I spent a lot of money. We went to a coffee shop right next door and waited for Sally to get back from class. She had a waffle there. It was awesome. That evening, I began Rehab. The silent type. But I had yarn, so it's ok.

I'm Not Allowed To Talk Right Now

Annushka's working on a paper for her econ class and I am in this room for support. But I'm not allowed to talk. Do you think my keyboard typing is bothering her? I'm not allowed to ask. I could choose to sit downstairs and work on my knitting while watching TV, but instead I've allowed myself to be locking into the room above the garage to sit in silence while she finishes this dratted thing. I figure that since I paid a lot of money to be with her, I should be with her as much as possible. Even if there are no words. We spend a lot of time together in my "store" (room) in college, not speaking while I worked on my stories and she did reading so this is sort of tradition.

My room was called the "store" because I had a black shelve unit in my room. On the shelves, I stored my stuffed animals, books, picture frames, tea, knick-knacks, and other random things. On top of my radiator, I kept my small collection of dinosaur figurines, plus a wooded banana leaf bowl and maybe some fruit. My lotions were all lined up on my plastic, Rubbermaid dresser, and I had a plaster Bunny Plaque on the wall. (Sally still hates the Bunny Plaque. I bought it without her knowledge, she had already forbidden it's purchase) I kept my room so tidy, and grocery store like at school because I had such limited space. I am not so tidy now. I have a whole house, technically two houses, to throw my things about and not have to worry about them being thrown out or really getting in my way. I still miss the "store" though. There is something to be said for being able to live in one tiny room, with almost all of your possessions.

It makes me think I will be capable of living in a small space in Denver, then I remember the seventy pounds of Chocolate Lab that will be confined to that same space and I regain my senses. We are going to need much more than just one room.

Posted Now Because Blogger Hated Me On Thursday Night

My bag is partially packed and taking up most of the hallway. The clean clothes are thrown on top of the bag. More clean clothes (whites) are in the dryer. Toiletries are scattered all over the house. I'm still unsure about if I packed enough and will I have space to bring back all the things I'm going to buy. Not that yarn takes up a whole lot of space. But I don't want to have to board the plane on my way back looking like this:



It's quite a dashing look, don't you think? I just don't think I'd be very comfortable in my seat for the three hour trip. Plus, my return flight leaves at 6:30 in the morning and I am staying an hour from the airport. I don't know if I could put that much clothing on at 4 AM. I'm under the impression that staying up all night before my flight is a good idea. I also stay up till 4 on a regular basis, so perhaps I am alone in my brilliant plan. I forget that I have a pilot to fly me back home while Sally will only have herself to co-pilot with. Well, at least she has an ipod.

Oh, the thought of the unpacked bag and the impending traveling is making me anxious and excited. In college, the week before breaks I would have dreams where I would suddenly realize that I had to leave for the airport right away and I would simply start throwing clothes into a bag and hope that I had enough time to get to the airport. Usually, I didn't succeed. I haven't had any of those dreams this week, fortunately. I usually fret most of the way to the airport, through check-in, and past security, until I get to the gate and am reassured that the plane hasn't left without me. Only then do I feel safe to go get coffee or breakfast. Which is stupid because I always get the gate that is furthest away from the Starbucks and i have to walk half a mile to get there. My fear, so logical it is. It's silly that I stress over my plane leaving but yet I will abandon my seat in Detroit so Sally can pick me up and drive me to Columbus rather than stick with the regulations laid out in my contract with the airline, thus jepordizing my return flight and almost having to purchase a new ticket. Oh no, that doesn't stress me in the least bit.

The Day After Tomorrow

I will be in Sunny Ohio on Friday. Except the weather tells me I'm bringing some nice snow/ice mixture with me. But the temperature should be in the 30's so that's a nice change from 8.

I booked this trip with two intentions. One was that I am truly trying to move to Denver and it may be the last trip I can take for the next 6 months or so. And Two is that BB was supposed to be in Utah by now. And the trip would serve as a nice distraction to me while he was getting ready to leave as well as a escape once he had left.

But he's still here.

Don't get me wrong. I am so excited to see Annushka. I haven't seen her since last February and that is far too long. I cannot believe we've gone so long without seeing each other, yet it doesn't feel like a year. I'm so glad that I was able to convince her that my coming in January would be fine.

But it is one less week in this relationship I have with BB. I know my relationship with Sally, Sarah, and Kirstin is going to last. We've been out of school for almost two years and we still keep in touch. We get excited for visits and plan more. I don't know how much time I have left with BB. I have no illusions of us "staying together" once we are apart. We are not the couple to try and work things out long distance. I have no doubts that we will keep in touch for a while, and there will probably be a visit or two. But the relationship I've invested myself in for the past few months will be over soon. And like he said, "it's better to have something rather than nothing."

I have many somethings.

Dear Annushka

I know you're a little busy right now.

But it's been a month since your last post. And we miss you.

So, in an effort to help you out, I am going to make you blog once a day while I'm visiting. I know it's going to be hard. What with the nonstop latte drinking, movie watching, sweatpant wearing, liquor drinking, and knitting that will be going on. But we'll work on it, just baby steps. ok?