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I have talked a lot lately about how sick I have been.

The thing is… I really thought I was getting better.

Even when I went to hang out with Grandma yesterday, I kept talking about how much better I feel from the misery I experienced last week, when I thought I wanted to die.  No matter how many times I watched Tangled, I still felt like death.  I still went to bed taking a pretty intense drug cocktail and woke up each morning taking that same mix of medications.

I have since weaned myself off of most of the drugs and have been living life among the living and well. Finally.

Except a couple days ago, I noticed that every time I yawned my throat screamed at me to stop doing that. It was always like, Bitch, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. But, like, sometimes you just gotta yawn. Just like sometimes, when I’m at the grocery store and I am reaching to the top shelf to try to grab a box of risotto and a stretch comes outta nowhere, you just gotta go with it. So yeah, I just stood on that bottom shelf at the store and stretched my body all over the other types of rice on the shelves. I didn’t care that it was a Saturday afternoon and there were hoards of people walking by. You just gotta go with it. You can’t fight it. Because it just feels too good.

So as I was sitting on the couch, just doing nothing and basking in my unshowered sickness, I yawned. I disregarded my throat’s warning and immediately wished I had stifled the shit out of that yawn.

My throat is on fire.

At first it was just when I yawned or when I swallowed. And it came and went, or I just didn’t notice it.  But tonight, the fire is raging unapologetically. My throat is not speaking to me other than to say fuck you; I hurt, too.

So we’re both very unhappy and I’m at a loss. I took some Tylenol to help with the pain, but it hurt going down and I just want to find a garden gnome and drop kick it. I feel like that sensation would make me feel better. I mean, I’m trying my best to not yawn. And not swallow. (Not in a dirty way, you sickos!) Which, let me tell you, is difficult.

I keep being told to go back to the doctor, but I’m seriously avoiding that. I just found a doctor locally and I don’t want them to think I’m using them to get drugs. I’m really not. I just haven’t been this sick in a while and it’s not my fault that I had a muscle spasm and then got a really nasty sinus infection and that my muscle spasm didn’t go away for, like, two weeks. I can’t help it that now that all of that original stuff seems like it has finally sorted itself out, my throat is filled with the wrath of the devil.

My life is so hard.

I am finally on the mend from being sick but still don’t feel normal.  I’m still a hot damn mess. My daily drug cocktail is outrageous and I am still amazed that I can take so much medication and still feel this awful. My body hurts. I have gone through at least three boxes of Kleenex this week. I have a really sexy cough that sounds like my lungs are rattling.  My voice is all snorkly. I sniffle and breathe out of my mouth. It’s disgusting.

I will take this time to tell you that I am well aware that my posts of late have been lacking, even prior to the sickness I have contracted.

To say the very least I have been extremely uninspired. I have come to dread having to sit down to write something.  I don’t know what has changed or what is different that has made me feel this way.

Probably four weeks ago, I had my first very serious thought of ending this.  I keep thinking I should just give up, quit. And then sometimes I reel it in and think perhaps I’d just take a break, a little hiatus, if you will. But I always talk myself out of it and convince myself that next week, next week will suck less and I’ll churn out something funny or worth reading.  No such luck.

So, let me just put it out there: I am so sorry.  I am sorry that coming here sucks now. You, my dear reader, are wonderful, and every time you visit my blogy-blog, I am so grateful.  Truly.  Even when you just pop by on accident or when you click on over and read without comment- I appreciate it. Even when you search something weird, like “dogs pooping on couch” or “grandma is obsessed with me” and end up here wondering what kind of fuckery is this?!, I’m glad you came by at all. If my words matter to you and/or if you look forward to getting a glimpse at how I view the world, I am sorry I have been really sucking it up lately.

I just wanted to acknowledge to you that I am well aware that it hasn’t been good lately.

Or, if you’re thinking it’s never been good and why do I even bother, then, well, uhmmmm… I guess this is just confirmation. So, good job! Go me, for reinforcing your original thought.

Here’s my promise: I will start putting forth real effort.  I will try to feel excited about blogging again. I will plan ahead. I will recapture my child-like wonder.  I will tell you about my love of Smokey the Bear. I will tell you things I’m excited about.  I’ll reinvest myself in you. I will reinvest in accomplishing a personal goal.  I will follow-through. Even when I don’t feel like it.

I feel good about this.  Thanks for listening!

Check back! Hold me accountable! Harass me when you hate something I do or say! Tell me what you want to read about! Let me know if something makes you laugh- or if you feel the same way!

This weekend Chiefy learned how to swim.

Tam bought him a lifejacket (as evidenced below) on Saturday and he finally realized he can swim.

We were exuberant!  For as long as we have had Chiefy, he as only waded in the lake.  He has only gone as far in as he can comfortably and effectively stand, so taking liftoff in the water was a great success.

Since then, I have become disgustingly ill and now have a gnarly cold.

My neck still hurts, but only vaguely.

I almost tipped over in the kayak today. My butt was soaked and, just moments later, I got shit on by a bird flying overhead. Drew almost hit me with a rock he was throwing into the lake.

I basically slept all day long. That, or I’ve been watching Nurse Jackie with Drew.

My nose is raw and I’m a mouth breather.

I spilled ice cream on the dog and on the floor.

I think it’s time I go to bed and hope for a better tomorrow.

So, I had big plans for this week because I had, like, three consecutive days off from work.  I had biiiiig plans. I was gonna vacuum. And do all my laundry. And actually get ahead in all three of my classes this semester.  I was going to catch up on all of the TV shows I haven’t had time to watch (because I spend all my time either listening to Harry Potter or watching it on DVD (and blu-ray)). I was going to color-code my planner for the next month and really just bask in the glory of all of this Me-Time.

As I previously mentioned, I had some unexpected and extreme neck pain pop up and leave me completely useless.  I wish I could have snapped a pic of what a pathetic baby I looked like, all crooked and in pain.  I would have shared it with you so you could all laugh at me and feel sorry for me.  Because, dude, the pain was so bad. I mean, I wouldn’t liken it to childbirth or anything but it was far more than just a regular crick in the neck.  I mean, this is Day Three of this type of trauma to my body and I just… couldn’t stand it anymore.

After waking up nearly every hour (EVERY HOUR!!) last night because my neck wouldn’t stop hurting let alone allow me to find a comfortable way to sleep, and after finally popping 600mg more of Motrin at 4am, I resigned myself to the fact that I just was going to be tired for the rest of my life.  Finally, at about 7:15, I heard Chiefy Poo getting yelled at.  This was interesting because Mr. Poo Poo Face never gets yelled at.  He just doesn’t get in trouble.  He’s Mama’s little angel and Tam just fawns over him.  It’s almost ridiculous.  But sure enough, this morning, I heard Tam yelling at Poor Baby Chiefy.

“No! Chief! No! You come here! RIGHT NOW!”

I did some weird, highly attractive roll/flop out of my bed and made my way towards the stairs to head upstairs.  But then I turned around to put some pants on. And then I went upstairs to see what Chief had done.  I found him sitting by the front door with his perfect, sad puppy eyes looking up at me and his feet a curious shade of dark brown.  This is interesting because Chiefy is a lovely golden blonde color.

That was about the time Tam pointed to a hole in our yard that was not there yesterday.

I laughed and then grabbed my neck in pain and asked her if she had gotten the very important email I had sent her yesterday.

Lately, I have taken to sending emails to Tam at work with silly words in the subject line, such as “Urgent” or “Very Important” or even “Please Read Immediately!” and then there is a solitary picture of Chief doing something adorable.

For example:

Subject: Important Info.

Chiefy loves his toys!!

And that’s it. That’s all that I put in the emails. Bahahaha She never emails me back.

Yesterday, though, I sent an email where I displayed my true colors.

Subject: Urgent!!!! HIGH PRIORITY!!

Chiefy has been naughty.  He tried to dig up a plant outside my room!

She didn’t email me back.

Obviously, I’m a tattle tail.  But, like, Chief must view me as his equal, and therefore discredit my ability to scold him.  When I asked him just what the fuck he thought he was doing when I interrupted him digging on the dirt off to the side of my patio, he just kinda looked at me like excuse me, you’re interrupting my fun. I guess I’ll just go over here and bark at some geese and then run around the backyard like a maniac. 

So I just said, fine, but I’m telling Mom. And you’re gonna be in big trouble. Or, at the very least, going to miss out on a treat later.

Tam apparently saw the email but quickly forgot about it.  Because she baby’d him the normal amount she always does, so she clearly didn’t mind that the backyard is a mess because this dog likes to dig.

He’s so naughty.

But I love him anyway. In fact, I came up with a new nickname for him today: Chef Salad. I’ll see how it works.

Oh wait. Uhm….

My point was, originally, that I haven’t done all the shit I originally set out to do this week, but my original idea to post kind of got away from me because I got to talking about Chief.  The good news is that I finally went and saw a doctor this morning, so I’m on a strict regimen of Motrin and prednisone for my acute muscle spasm in my neck.  And the lady doctor told me that it’s likely that I carry my stress in my neck- something of which I was already aware.

I woke up in the middle of the night and knew that I had pretty much entered hell.

It was hardly a conscious thought, but now, in hindsight, I knew then.

I woke up fully this morning and couldn’t move.

You know that feeling you get when your body hates you and you feel like tiny, angry elves are stabbing you repeatedly in the neck from the inside, trying their hardest to break free and releasing their angry elf fury?

I know you must know that feeling.

When you sleep in your bed in a way that makes your body so upset that your neck just decides to say one giant Fuck You and not work properly.

So today, I have walked around all kinds of unbalanced, had trouble getting dressed, cried because it hurt, had to turn my entire body just to be able to look at something, and sat on the couch with a heating pad tied around my body.

This better go away. And fast.

I have shit to do.

On my list of things to do:

  • Clean my room
  • Actually do laundry
  • Color code my planner
  • Read new textbooks for class
  • Get a new ink cartridge for my printer
  • Organize my binders/folders for class
  • Alphabetize my dvds
  • Vacuum

My life is so hard. lolz

Last week, I was really doing well at the whole GT part of GTL (Gym, Tan, Laundry) but every time I thought about doing laundry, I was discouraged because that required me to pick up all of the clothes that are currently hanging out on my floor. That task always seemed too daunting and required too much patience. There was never a time when I was like, yeah, I really wanna pick all this shit up right now.  I mean, sometimes I really do enjoy cleaning and making things all perfect and pretty.  Sometimes  I really love doing laundry, but these past couple of weeks I find everything about it too obnoxious and time-consuming and tedious.

Classes start this week and I’m just so unenthused.  I usually love school supplies and organizing my binders to get ready for class but I just have been putting it off.  I don’t know why.

I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know what’s wrong.

Something isn’t right.

Ugh.

I constantly feel like one giant ball of fail. All the time.

Sucktown, population: me.

I’ve finally done something cool.

For once in my life, I have engaged myself into a trend that is actually cool.

For once in my life, I have done something cool to my hair.

And putting sun-in in my hair in sixth grade with a girl from school and getting grounded for doing so does not count.

There’s this new craze that’s all about feather extensions.

I’ve been hearing about it for at least a couple months now and I finally decided to be brave and get some feathers stuck all up in my boring brown hair.  Now, I’m fine, fresh and fierce with my fancy flying feathers.  Oh em gee, that was probably one of my most successful almost-alliterations.  That was a fuck-ton of f’s up in that sentence.

Also, the birds in my backyard and I have something in common now, so that’s pretty sweet.  I’m sure it’s not long before I sprout some wings and fly far, far away from here.  I’ll fly all the way to Hogwarts and become friends with the post owls in the owlery and if Hogwarts won’t take me I can fall back on being a post-owl/weird flying girl with feathers in her hair.  Clearly I have my life all figured out.

Anyway, it took like three whole seconds for Wen to put the little metal bead/clipy-thing onto my hair and to seal it with the three feathers I picked.  Picking my feathers was the thing that took the most time.  In fact, I changed my mind like 4 times.  I was originally going to be a pansy-ass scaredy cat and get all brown tones but then I was like, wait, you should get a light colored one so it’ll at least show uppppp. But then I saw a black and white one and was like Dude, that is MINE.  And it was Wen who told me I needed to have the purple one because that way I have something fun, awesome and colorful but it’s not so overpowering and it still will blend in a little bit.

So, yeah, I ended up choosing a black and white feather, a two-tone brown one, and a purple and black one.  As you can (kinda) see here: I took a picture to show you how it’s clipped in my hair.  I should note that I got all three of my feathers clipped in the same metal clip thing, but Wen really tried to get me to put each feather in separately all over the place.  I was much too chicken-shit to actually do that, so I clipped them together in the same place, somewhere it would show when I pin my “bangs” back.  It goes in this metal bead type of thing, and it holds the feathers and a tiny, tiny section of hair and then gets tightened so it can’t move.

See?

You can hardly tell!

It’s super cool!

The other thing that’s cool about these feather extensions is that they’re supposedly super low maintenance.  I can wash my hair just like normal, and blowdry and flat iron the shit out of my hair like I normally do.  They curl right along with the rest of my hair, too; I tried it out today.  Wen and what’s-her-face who owns the salon I popped into today to have them done told me that they last for a really long time also.  The lady who owns the salon had two in and she’s been wearing them for six or seven weeks and they looked fab.  So, if and when I’m ready for them to come out, I’ll just pop back in and they’ll take my feathers out for me.

Except, fat chance because if I lose my feathers there goes my plan of flying away to Hogwarts and my future as a post-owl.

Here’s what they look like when I don’t do shit to my hair:

Ps. How awkward is this pic of me?! Lolz

Peach out, lovers.

I made something in the kitchen today other than a small fire.

I know, you’re proud. I can hear your applause right now.

Now, this is something we usually only make in the fall, but, dude, I got home from work tonight and was like I NEED PUMKIN CAKE RIGHT NOW ASAP so I just fuckin’ did it. And let me tell you, it’s as good as I remember from November.

I didn’t think to take pictures while I was in the process of actually making it, but when I went to eat it, I decided it was too good to just hoard and not share with you.  So, here, my friends, is a delicious recipe for a lovely fall dessert.

(It just isn’t seasonally appropriate anymore, but whatevs, I still dig it.)

Ingredients:

  • 1 can Evaporated Milk
  • 3 Large Eggs
  • 1 ¼ tsp Cinnamon
  • ½ tsp Nutmeg*
  • ½ tsp Salt
  • 1 cup Sugar
  • 1 can Pumpkin (13 oz)
  • 1 pkg Yellow Cake Mix
  • ½ cup butter (softened/melted)
  • 1 carton Cool Whip (or other whipped topping)

Instructions:

  1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit
  2. Mix evaporated milk, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, sugar, and pumpkin in a bowl.  Pour mixture into a greased and floured 9 x 13 pan.
  3. Mix cake mix with ½ cup melted butter.
  4. Crumble cake/butter mixture on top of pumpkin mixture.
  5. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes.
  6. Let cool.
  7. Serve with Cool Whip (or other whipped topping).
  8. ZOMG Yum!

Oh, heavens to Betsy, No! You MUST add the Cool Whip! It’s just not the same without it!!

Oh, yes, yes, yes!! That’s the ticket!!

Excuse me while I go enjoy my pumpkin cake!!

*”Oh, Meg, my little flower, my little bird, my little Nut Meg!”

Name that movie!!

Have a wonderful holiday weekend!!

We all know that I’m obsessed with my dog.

A few nights ago, Chiefy climbed up on my bed and we snuggled.

He’s not usually allowed on furniture and I don’t really like when he climbs on my bed because he gets his hair everywhere.  I don’t like that.

The thing is he’s just so damn cute that I can hardly resist.  And he’s a really good snuggler, so I have a hard time saying no.

Then this happened and I couldn’t even be mad that he was lying on my legs and I couldn’t move.

He was completely zonked out and it was seriously adorable.

I couldn’t bring myself to wake him so I did this instead:

Naturally, sniping a picture of his face was a better idea than waking the sleeping baby.

So, now, I’m gonna see if I can entice Chiefy into sleeping in my room tonight. He can even get his fur on my blankets. I’ll try not to hold it against him.

So, last Friday night, I stayed in and browsed Amazon for movies I wanted.

I know, a real wild night.

Tam and I had been discussing how badly we want to see the remake of Arthur, you know, the one with Russell Brand.  Yeah, it’s a remake of a hilarious yet old movie with Dudley Moore (RIP). She wants to see the remake because she loves the original and thought Dudley Moore was a cutie. I want to see the new one because I think Russell Brand is excellent.  And there’s a Harry Potter reference in the film, so I was pretty much sold based solely on that fact.

I bet you’re wondering what we purchased on Amazon.

Well, we got the original Arthur. For some reason, we no longer owned that movie.

$4.99! Can you believe that?! Sweet baby Jesus, I love Amazon.

And we also purchased Annie.

Can you believe I didn’t previously own Annie?! HOW COULD THAT BE?! SACRE BLEU!! MON DIEU!

Annie is pretty much the first musical, besides Grease, I learned in its entirety. In fact, I remember putting on “shows” with songs from Annie for my parents when I was a wee little one.

I mean, you guys know me; I quote Annie all the time.  There isn’t a week that goes by that “bet my bottom dollar” doesn’t sneak out of my lips.

Carol Burnett is a genius.

Well here’s the highlight of my day: the movies came in the mail today. Win.

Tam and I just watched Arthur and I was a gigglebox the whole time! Now, I have just begun watching Annie, and, while I am definitely enjoying myself, there is one thing by which I am perplexed.

Annie has what I would refer to as a mullet.  She’s got this weird ginger afro that oddly works. But then she’s got these weird, tiny braids that come off the bottom.  What’s that about?

I guess I’ll overlook the mullet and just pretend it’s not there.

What’s your favorite throwback movie? Do you have a thing for musicals like me?? I just don’t think there’s a musical I’ve met that I haven’t loved.