Tag Archive: Kleenex


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!

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I’ve been menstruating since, like, sixth grade. Blood coming out of my body is not necessarily a new thing.

But, um, that blood comes out of my vagina. And it’s regular, you know? Like, I can pretty much count on it.  And when I forget about it, I just have to remember the last time I cried in my bed for three days in a row for no particular reason (e.g. Drew uses the last of the milk on his second bowl of cereal Christmas morning; a stranger at Meijer gives me a dirty look; a Folgers Coffee commercial on TV) and I’ll realize that it’s about that time again.

But, this morning, when I realized that my body was gushing blood, I freaked the fuck out.

I do not like blood. I’d be, like, the worst vampire ever. It makes me queasy. Ever since Drew wrecked his face and I had to run from the neighbor’s house at age 5 (or something?) to tell our parents Drew’s lip was … not really on his face anymore, things just haven’t been okay for me and Blood. Even when it comes out of my vagina, I have to distance myself from it; I have to pretend it’s not really blood. Ugh. I have the willies just thinking about it.

Anyway, this gushing blood? It was not coming from my ladybox.

(Sorry I talked about my vagina, Drew.)

I can’t even tell you the last time I had a bloody nose.

Even though I’m clumsy as fuck and run into shit all the time, I haven’t hit my nose in a way that makes it bleed. When Drew chucked a tennis ball at my face, my nose didn’t bleed.

I wasn’t even participating in a strenuous activity. Nothing happened. There was no trauma to my face.

(This leads me to believe that something exploded in my brain and that I’m probably going to die.)

I was driving to work this morning, just driving along listening to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on CD when OUT OF NOWHERE my nose started gushing blood. Literally. I couldn’t get a Kleenex to my face fast enough. There was SO MUCH BLOOD. And it was everywhere.

I was so ill-equipped.  What, with the almost-empty, smashed-to-hell box of Kleenex I keep in my car, the fact I was driving at a barely-legal 78 miles an hour on I-96 at 8am, and OH YEAH I HAVE NEVER HAD A BLOODY NOSE AND ALL OF MY FIRST-AID TRAINING APPARENTLY FLEW OUT OF MY BRAIN IN A PANIC BECAUSE I DO NOT POSSESS GRACE UNDER FIRE.

My intention was that I would be able to stop at Starbucks or Beaners (fuck that, I refuse to call it Biggby) to grab a caramel macchiato or chai latte (respectively) and make it to work on time. Ohhhh, no. That did not happen, although I did pull into the Starbucks parking lot to try to stop the bleeding. To no avail.

I drove the rest of the way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my nose while I called my mother in a panic (she didn’t pick up; she doesn’t love me.) and machine gun-like sobs escaped from my lungs. I cried my way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my left nostril.

So attractive.

When I finally got to work, it looked like I had killed someone.

There was blood ALL OVER my scarf (the one Drew brought home for me from VIENNA!), my coat, the steering wheel in my car, my pants, both of my hands and all down my arms.

I was a fucking mess.

Seriously, that kid on youtube who got all upset about the blood? You know what I’m talking about: BLOOD?! NOT FUNNYYYYYYY!!! He was fucking right.

I even opened the first aid kit I keep in my car for sanitizing wipes to wipe all of the blood off of my hands and the steering wheel.  It only kinda worked, though, because the first aid kit is kinda old and it has been sitting in my car for a while so the wet-wipe thing I used was dried out.  So, mostly, I dumped a fuck-ton of antibacterial hand gel everywhere and wiped with the not-wet-at-all wet-wipe (because I DIDN’T HAVE ANYMORE KLEENEX LEFT!). Things didn’t really work out for me this morning as I was self-conscious about my bloody-ness all day long.

Here’s the silver lining though: at least this didn’t happen on a Monday. My whole week would have been fucked.

(OMG I can’t believe I’m even about to say this- because it’s terrible and very, very offensive, but oh well I’m going to anyway…) All I could think of, though, through the whole ordeal: If I had The HIV, this would be a nightmare. And if I was a hemophiliac, I would be so fucked right now.