Happy Fall Y'all

It's getting cooler outside, and that makes me so happy! I freaking love fall. It's the BEST, BEST, BEST time of the year. And it has my absolute favorite holiday in it - Halloween.

I was thinking today about the best Halloween party I ever went to in my whole life. It was at my Aunt and Uncle's house back in the 70s. They had it out in the barn. They let us play whatever music we wanted as loud as we could stand it, and all the cousins and assorted friends danced all night. We wore out some records that night (yes, records) and some shoes too.

Someday I want a big barn and a killer Halloween party with music as loud as we can stand it and dancing all night long with all my friends and family. J always wanted that for me (even though he couldn't dance worth a lick). Maybe next year I'll make it happen.

So tonight's music comes from my ultimate Halloween party playlist. I love this music (keep scrolling down there's 4 songs):

This music was made before videos. It's an AUDIO experience. You don't need a video.




I'm a good ol' Southern girl, so this is a MUST have:





And one more:




Ok, just one more because we actually did wear out the Frampton Comes Alive Album and because he was just so dang cute (still is):

Worn Out

It was 4 months ago today that J died, but it feels like it was yesterday, this morning, 5 minutes ago.

I am completely worn out tonight.

There's nothing interesting to say. Nothing random or strange. Just really, really tired. The workout was hard today. I felt really light-headed and had to stop early.

I picked out something really special for the music tonight. It's one of my most favorite songs ever. Sweet dreams.

Another Strange Day

It's been another one of those strange days today.

I woke up this morning to an incoming text message on my cell phone. It said "Good morning. Sorry I fell asleep", and it was signed TakeAChanceOnMe. I'm a big fan of ABBA, so I'm wondering who on earth sent me this. It was pretty nice to wake up to a Good Morning, but I figured someone must have gotten the wrong number. So I text them back and say "I think you got the wrong number." Later on, it sounded like I got another text, but when I went to see it, there was nothing there. I've gotten 4 odd phone calls this weekend too. Weirdness.

So later, I was talking to my friends K and M. We were talking about being at Wal-mart yesterday and how much we hate it. I mentioned that I saw some girl there yesterday with her face painted like a cat. Well weirdness, K saw one too - a different one. So M says off-handedly "oh they're some of those cat girls." (Like we should already know this.) K and I look at each other like huh? M says it's a group of girls in town who dress up and act like cats - all the time. Ok, I never heard of this in my entire life, and how weird that K and I both saw one yesterday (well, it is Wal-mart, right?).

So it got me to wondering if there were "Dog girls" too? And do they chase the Cat Girls when they see them? Do the Cat Girls ever get into Cat fights? Do they have fleas? Eat cat food? Catch mice? Kinda gives a whole new meaning to the Crazy Cat Lady thing, huh?

Seriously, I'd go to Wal-mart every single day if I thought I could see a good cat fight between real people pretending to be cats. Or real people pretending to be dogs chasing real people pretending to be cats.

Then tonight I decided that the Car of Rage needed a real bath. She was pretty nasty. Since I had such an incident with the foam brush at the d-i-y car wash, I decided to go to the automatic car wash. Somehow I managed to push the wrong buttons and my $3 car wash wound up costing $12. I nearly fainted, but too late, the buttons had been pushed. I'll know better next time, hopefully. Did I mention that I have a terrible fear of automatic car washes? No? Ah, well. I am TERRIFIED of automatic car washes. I'm thinking that for $12 someone will take the Car of Rage through for me. No. I have to go. That was the most terrifying 5 minutes of my entire life - gigantic brushes and foam and lights blinking and stuff being sprayed all over my car. And then at the end was this unbelievable suction from some kind of massive vacuum. It was pulling the windshield wipers up off the windshield. I thought we might be sucked up into that thing at any moment. Once it was all finished, the machine just shot us out onto the parking lot. I had to pull into a parking space because my hands were shaking so badly. I got out to see if there was any damage. Everything looked ok. You can eat dinner off the Car of Rage now. She's definitely clean that's for dang sure.

It is a bizarro world out there.

I really dread tomorrow. It's a another big milestone day - four months since J's been gone. Usually, the dreading of the milestone is way worse than the actual day of. I wonder when I'll ever quit marking these milestones? It scares me to think that one day I might not think of him at all for an entire day, a week, a month. I miss him so badly. I really, really, really miss him.

And then there's all that lovely work sitting on my desk just waiting for me in the morning. It'll be a banner day for sure.

I think we need some feel good music tonight to get us back to happy again. Yep, tonight it's all about The Smithereens. You must love them. They are unbelievable! I am crazy for them!

Ok, and well, I'm kind of crazy for Pat (the lead singer). He looks exactly like G that lived on the back porch when I was in collge. You know, the one I had the MASSIVE CRUSH on and dated for awhile. Well, G looked just like this. I thought he was to die for. It's weird how such different things attract my attention - sometimes it's wild orange hair, sometimes a goatee and balding. I never know. Maybe it's just musicians in general?

But I digress happily. Wonder what ever happened to G? Sigh. A happy sigh.

On a sad note...

I just wanted to add how very, very sad I am to hear about the passing of Paul Newman. He was a great actor and a really, really great guy. The world is definitely a lesser place without him. God bless his beloved Joanne and their family. I can imagine how she feels today.

My J was a HUGE Paul Newman fan. He always, always used Cool Hand Luke as his user name for all his online games he played. I think he saw that movie a zillion times. He never ever got tired of it. He thought it was the coolest thing ever.

Hey Sweetie, Cool Hand Luke is headed your way. I bet you already knew that though. I'm sure you were the first in line to see him.

The Randomness of Wal-mart

Most of the time, I hate Wal-mart. It makes me angry just to drive up in the parking lot. I know I'm going to have to waste an hour just to go in for something simple like toilet paper. A trip to Wal-mart is never that simple - at least not for me.

Wally (my name for it) is truly the epicenter of randomness. Every time I go in Wally something weird happens. I swear. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. One time, I was there looking for a birthday present for my Grandma when I noticed that this man was following me everywhere I went. I'm thinking maybe he's either trying to get my purse or he's a store detective and he thinks I'm a shoplifter. So being the snark that I am, I led him around the store for awhile just to be aggravating. I looked through all the women's underwear aisles, the condoms, anything I thought that would be obnoxious. He finally gave up or figured out what I was doing.

On Mother's day this year, I went to pick out a card for my Mom. My Dad had just had an emergency appendectomy, so I knew he couldn't go out and get my Mom a present and card. So I told him I'd get one for him. Now I admit, sometimes I am a little naive. I prefer to think of it more as just being innocent. Things sometimes go over my head or slip by me. I was standing with this big group of people looking at the Mother's Day cards as innocent as a little lamb. I was particularly reading all the cards that said "To My Wife." See where this is going? I sure didn't. I start to notice that people are backing away from me. In a few minutes, I'm quite obviously standing all by myself and look up to see people giving me the stink eye. I'm thinking "dang, I took a shower." It didn't occur to me until I got home that they thought I was gay and looking for a Mother's Day card for my wife. LOL. Judgemental goobers. Next time, I'll go in and do the same thing only this time I'll pick out a card, jump up and down and scream "OMG, OMG, my wife is going to love this card!"

Then there was the whole Saturday night expedition to get the anti-depressant refilled only to watch the whole dang town shop for condoms. It was one of the two times I've cried in the middle of Wal-mart.

Today I go in because I have no food in the house at all, and it's time for the anti-depressant refill. I knew better than to go late in the day, so I went in the afternoon. There was some girl walking around with her face painted to look like a cat. She wasn't in a costume. She just had her face painted. Not sure what that was all about. Then I turn the corner only to run smack dab into one of J's friends/old co-worker. She had heard about J's death recently. She wanted to know all about it and then she started to cry. I felt so sorry for her. She was really, really sad. Everybody loved J. Usually the only time I run into people I know is when I'm buying underwear, and then I'll see everyone in town.

Then I spent an hour searching the store for the one thing I said I'd never buy - scales. But I have to know if the workouts are making me lose weight. I finally found them next to the replacement toilet seats. When I get up to the checkout, the cashier takes one look at me and says "You going on a trip?" I'm trying to think what gives her that idea. I had bought some microwave meals, tea, cascade, medicine, scales, and a floppy hat. I said "yeah, as a matter of fact, I am going on a trip." Then she says "You're going on a cruise." I'm thinking maybe I should ask her to pick me some lotto numbers. "I am going on a cruise. How did you know?" She said "The hat - the only people who buy that hat are people going on a cruise." Dang, I almost wanted to put it back, but it was magenta, and I love magenta. But now I'll just be one of thousands with a magenta hat on the ship. Oh well.

So it doesn't end there. I get out to the Car of Rage to find a happy reunion going on behind her. A big group of people was standing behind the Car of Rage all hugging and laughing. How cool is that? The Car of Rage is bringing people together.

Wal-mart is such a random place. I used to tell J that I wanted to take a voice-activated tape recorder in one day and just catch snatches of people's conversations just for the randomness of it.

I have to add one more thing about my naivety. The subject came up of tacos the other day (it's a long story), but it never occurred to me what was actually being said. Way later in the day, it suddenly hit me what it was about. Lord have mercy, I'm either really slow or really naive or both. It just went straight on over my head.

The music for tonight is really cool. It's something new that I'm just crazy for. Love the lyrics to this song. Lately, I've been thinking about running away from home in the Car of Rage and maybe not coming back. I might run away for a day or so, but I'll come back. These guys know all about that kind of thing. Kindred spirits.

Frustration. Sigh.

Some days it all comes down to just plain old frustration. That's what today was for me all day long.

Work was frustrating. Seems like the harder I tried, the worse it got. Frankly, I was just worn out on looking at it anymore. I love my job, but some days it just wears me out.

People were frustrating today too. Some of them are ticked off. Some of them are oblivious. Some are fine. And some I just have no clue what's up with them anymore. I'm worn out on trying to figure them out.

So here's just some plain old freaking good music. It makes me happy. And for some odd reason, I have a MASSIVE CRUSH on the guy with the orange hair. I'm not sure why, but that crazy orange hair is just doing it for me. I heard he just got out of jail. Wonder if I could manage to meet him? LOL

The audio is a bit screwy on this video though. Enjoy your Meat Puppets. LOL

The Truth - Part Two

Since I'm already sad tonight, I thought I'd go ahead and give you part two of the death talk.

After the hospital people have some names and start calling people for you, then they start wanting to know two other things.

1. What funeral home do you want to use?

and

2. Do you want to donate your loved one's organs and/or tissues?

Now, unless you are one of those people who is exceptionally organized, you have probably never thought about the answer to question number 1. They ask you this right away when you're in shock too. They ask it over and over and over until you finally just blurt out an answer. I had no idea what funeral home to use. I just wanted them to stop talking about funeral homes. I was still in the J-can't-be-dead stage. Honestly, I thought I might wake up at any moment and not need a funeral home.

So, my advice is to decide on what funeral home you might want right now. Put it on your people to call list. Then you can just hand the list to someone, and let them deal with it while you're still waiting to wake up from the nightmare.

Question number 2 gets trickier. It comes with a very long and detailed explanation of what parts can be donated and how soon it needs to happen. Let me say right up front that I am all for being a donor. I think it's an amazing thing that you can do to help someone else. The one thing they don't tell you is that you have to die in the hospital preferrably hooked to a ventilator in order for the organs to be useful. J died at the scene. By the time he arrived at the hospital, it was too late for any of his organs to be useful. At least that's what they told me. It may be incorrect, but that's what the nurse said. They did say that I could have some tissues donated and his eyes.

The problem is that they explain all this to you while you are trying to think of who to call, which funeral home to use, and why isn't somebody in there making J better because he can't be dead. I wasn't in any condition to make a deicion like that. My first thought was that I can't give away his body parts. He's still using them. He needs them. How will he stop being dead if you take them out? At that moment, it was all about stopping him from being dead.

Then they tell you if you say no that no one else can ever contact you again about donating. Wait. Are you telling me that I only get one chance on this? I have to decide right now? I have no time to think about it? It's a serious, serious decision. It shouldn't be made on the spot when you are in shock and hysterical.

So my advice is to think about it right now. Talk to your doctor about it. Find out about the process. If you feel like you want to do it, sign on the back of your driver's license. Then your spouse or loved one can just hand the license over to the hospital. And if it's your loved one who dies, you won't have to make a decision with half a mind and hope that you did the right thing.

There will be more episodes of The Truth about Death as I feel up to writing about them. I hope it might help someone else one day.

Pain. Lots and Lots of Pain.

I had no idea one human body could have so many pieces and parts that could be in pain all at the same time.

The workout tonight was killer. I moved up a level on the stationary bike. This time there were hills. I went 12.5 miles uphill the entire way. At mile 3, I wanted to quit. At mile 7, I wanted to die. Did I give up? No. I'm no quitter. I used to be a quitter, but I don't anymore - not since J died. The one and only thing I know for sure about my life now is that I don't give up.

After the bike, it was back up on the elliptical beast. I was doing all right until the guy next to me hopped on his and went crazy. It was like he was running for his life on that thing. I was exhausted just watching him. Seriously, if you can run like crazy on an elliptical machine, do you really NEED to run on an elliptical machine? I don't know. I'm a beginner. Maybe that's how it works.

Then I had a lap around the track, 5 sets of ab roller things, and a lap on the treadmill. I am whipped. I'm so tired and so in pain.

For some reason the exercise is not helping my mood tonight. Maybe it's just that I'm really tired, but I'm so, so sad. I miss J something awful tonight. Maybe it has a lot to do with the new season of Survivor starting back tonight. J and I always watched Survivor together. He really got into it and would sit and talk about the show for an hour after it went off. Tonight there's nobody to talk with. I miss his enthusiasm. I miss his never-ending strategizing. I miss his analyzing every word and action on the show. Funny thing is that when he was here, all that made me crazy. Most of the time I didn't even really listen. I'd just nod and say "yeah" at the appropriate times. And now I'd give everything just to have to sit and listen to it again.

My J was a very hyperactive guy. He was constantly in motion - constantly talking. He was probably the loudest person on the planet. He talked loud. He sang loud. He ate loud. He was just incredibly noisy. The silence has been probably the most difficult thing to adjust to since he's been gone. It's so dang quiet here now. I swear sometimes I can hear my own thoughts out loud. I keep the tv or some kind of music going all the time now just so I don't have to listen to the silence.

I feel the grief monster coming on. Yep, the tears just started up. I hate this so much. There's nothing else to do but ride it out. It goes away eventually. I just have to cry it out. Monday will mark the 4th month that J has been gone. I can't believe I haven't seen him in 4 months. How can that be possible? I won't ever, ever understand it. I think God Himself will have to explain it to me.

Anyway, there's lots of pain tonight, and it's not all physical. Pretty much all of me hurts - inside and out.

Tonight the music is all for my J. Ain't no other man like you.

Back in the 80s

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my old college days and this crazy house where I used to live. It was this big old creepy green house sitting on top of the highest hill over in the slums. It was THE BEST place on earth. I had more fun in that house than I think I've ever had in my whole entire life.

J always said I should write a book about it because it was so bizarre. Maybe I will some day. For now, it's just fun to think about it. It wasn't just our house that was bizarre - the whole freaking neighborhood was bizarre.

The house was cut up into various apartments - none of them were alike in any way at all. My best friend, E, and I lived in the attic on the 3rd floor. Our apartment was really quirky. Our front door had a big red M&M sticker on the window. The guy who started the movement to get the red M&Ms back had lived there for awhile before us. It had these crazy sloped ceilings in every room, so that most of the wall space was unusable. And I hit my head a lot (which probably accounts for a lot of my problems these days). If you dropped something anywhere in the apartment, you had to go to the kitchen to pick it up. The floor sloped and everything rolled in there. We had two stoves. On one, only the eyes worked. On the other, only the oven worked. We named the bathroom "The Cave". You had to go all the way in, bend over (sloped walls and low ceiling), flip the light on behind the door, and then shut the door just to get inside. It was painted a really dark brown. E's Dad was an Electrical Engineer. He came and wired up some massive 10,000 watt light in there just so we could see. We had this really long hallway where we used to work out with our Jane Fonda exercise tape. LOL We called it "Doing Jane". We had a wooden deck chair off an old cruise ship in the living room, a plant named "Phil", a poster of Al Jarreau, 2 goldfish (Fitzie swam head down all the time - he had an air bladder disorder), a palm tree that smelled like mayonnaise, and absolutely NO insulation in the walls whatsoever. In the winter, ice would form on the walls. In the summer, it was like an oven. I got locked out once and broke in using an orange peeler and a nail. I'm not really sure why my parents let me live there. I guess they knew I was happy.

On the floor below us lived a couple, C and L. C was the son of a wealthy Texas man. He was very anti-wealthy Texans. His girlfriend, L, was a punk rocker. They would cook things that sometimes would cause us to flee from our apartment. C would take E and I out in his car when it was icy, and we'd "ski" and cut donuts in the middle of the street. They were the reason we did Jane in the hall. The hall didn't go over their apartment, so they couldn't hear all the racket. The apartment across the hall from C and L was to die for. Everybody wanted it, but nobody ever lived in it. We all talked about how we each wanted it so badly, but nobody ever made a move to get it. There was another apartment on that floor that was accessed only from the first floor. P lived there. He was schizophrenic. Occasionally, he would go off his meds and carry his furniture up to the landing at our apartment. We'd bring it in and keep it until he got back on his meds again. Then he'd come back and get it all. One time, some friends of ours gave P money and put him on a bus to Atlanta. He told them he was going there to get married and ran out of money. P rarely ever left his apartment and didn't have a girlfriend. We were terrified for him being alone in Atlanta. He was gone for a couple of weeks and then one day he showed up like nothing had happened. He was in love with Linda Rondstadt and would color pictures for her out on the front porch in the afternoons.

The first floor was cut up into 3 apartments. In one lived the raft guides, R and R (I know, but I swear they were R&R). The other apartment had "the boys" in it. We never really knew their names, so we just called them "the boys". They had a dog named Jessie who we dearly loved. The third apartment was accessed from the back porch. G lived there. I thought G was to die for. I had a MASSIVE CRUSH on him and actually dated him for a bit. He was the bass player in a local band. He was really quiet and a good kisser (I know - too much information).

Our landlord lived across the street with his boyfriend. His boyfriend was one of my French teachers. M and L had a nasty break-up shortly after we moved in and L moved out. Poor M was a lost soul after that. He looked almost exactly like Kurt Cobain but much dirtier. He had a dog named Trash. M was so dirty that when he would come up to our apartment, Trash would go get in our shower. It was like he was begging to be washed. M made the most beautiful jewelry I've ever seen. It was exquisite, but his heart wasn't in it. I went over to his apartment once. He had some sheets on the floor to sit on and a bird cage. He offered me something to eat, but all he had was some cheese. L broke his heart and took everything. I always wonder what happened to M.

Sometimes M would forget to mow the yard - for months. The grass would be so high that the people on the first floor had trouble seeing out their windows. Someone drew a picture of our house and yard and hung it on the wall by the mailboxes. All summer, we'd take turns drawing in the grass higher and higher and writing SOS notes to M. Our boy friends, the Yard Apes - would constantly rearrange the letters on our mailbox so that it read "Tight Wanda". We had a pink flamingo in the front yard, and a gold bust of Nathan Bedford Forrest on the front stoop. We called him "Nate". He was the victim of various fashion statements. We'd dress him up in Hawaiian Leis, sunglasses, hats, scarves, toques, whatever we could get our hands on that would fit. I didn't realize until years later that "Nate" was the leader of the KKK. I about died when I found out. He was just "Nate" to me (and he's the reason I got to thinking about all this again).

In the fall, the first floor boys had a bad habit of renting our yard out for out of town people to park for the big football games. E and I liked to climb up on the roof and "lay out". E said shingles absorb the sun and thus gives you a better tan. C had connections with some guy who worked in a lab. Let's just say that we never had any bugs - EVER. We always wondered if one day we'd all start glowing in the dark.

I can't believe I have gone on and on about this. I have to stop, but maybe there will be more another time. I got plenty more, trust me.

I was in a thinking mood today. I took the Car of Rage out after work for drive and a good think. I wound up driving WAY too far. I wasn't really sure where I was. It took me over an hour to get back home. But it was a nice drive and a nice think. I wasn't burning off steam - just thinking.

So anyway, you have to have some music that goes with my 80s flashback tonight. The raft guides used to put their speakers out the window and blast Jethro Tull to the neighborhood. But personally, I never want to hear Aqua Lung ever, ever, ever again.

So I think maybe some Al Jarreau is in order. E and I wore out several Al Jarreau cassettes. We both wanted to marry Al. I'm available again Al. Call me.

On to Happier Subjects...

I have a feeling this is going to be out of order, so you might want to scroll down and read "The Truth - Part One first". Then come back to this one.

It was back to the fitness center with us today. TWELVE MILES, people. TWELVE MILES. That's what I put in on the stationary bike today. I had good tunes. I felt good. I was moderately angry. I didn't even break a sweat until the 5th mile. Go me! LOL. And then it was time to face the beast - the elliptical machine. The elliptical machine and I have a love/hate relationship going. It loves to hate me. But I got on that thing today and lasted SIX full minutes. I swear to you that thing hurts like hell. That was the longest six minutes of my life. I was sweating like a whore in church, but I stayed with it until I lost feeling in my legs. And it makes your rear hurt too. (That's gotta be a good thing - lol.) Then I had a lap around the track, followed by 3 sets of crunches with the Ab Roller. I think the whole Ab Roller session was more of an excuse for MG and I to lie down. We took long breaks between the sets just to lie on the floor and gasp for air. I thought we were going to require a forklift to get us both back up on our feet again. We both just looked at each other and said we'd had enough.

I know I fuss a little about the working out, but it really, really helps so much. It makes the depression better. It makes me SLEEPY. It makes me feel like I accomplished something. It keeps me from going home and slunking into the recliner all evening. And it gets me one day closer to hot mama status. MG and I decided today that we want to be skinny AND hot. It can't just be skinny. We must have hot too. At this point, I really only care about the hot part. Skinny will just be bonus.

How ridiculous would it be to have a stripper pole in my house? I mean just for fun (that doesn't make it read any better does it?). I was watching some videos online that teach you how to pole dance. It kinda looked like fun. (No, not THOSE kinds of videos. Gutter minds.) Serious pole dancing videos with fully clothed people who aren't taking their clothes off. The only problem is that the pole would have to be removable because my parents would FREAK OUT and disown me if they saw one of those in my house. I have elderly neighbors too. They like to do the drop-in. There's no amount of explaining gonna fix seeing something like that. Anyway, it was just a thought I was kicking around. It might not be the best idea for me. I'm a natural-born klutz. I'd probably just break something and have to go to the ER. How would you explain that? "Um, you see, I was pole dancing in the living room and I made this really fast spin, flew off the pole and crashed into the piano. I think that's how I broke my whatever." Yeah, right. They might send me off for a psych eval.

So anyway, the whole stripper pole thing got me to thinking about Prince. I love Prince. I'm a huge Prince fan since day one. I was all excited thinking about posting tonight's music. I raced over to You Tube to find the best Prince song. BUT Prince has had all the audio removed from all his videos on You Tube! Prince, what the heck is up with that? I'm seriously bummed. How are the people supposed to know your greatness if there's no audio? It hurts my heart.

I guess I'll just have to go with the next best thing - a little Morris Day and The Time. I swear I love this song. I know it's kinda filthy, but I'm already headed down that path what with the stripper pole talk.

So here you go - a little Jungle Love for you tonight. PS: I got another e-mail from Mr. Charming. He liked the hair fire story. He thought it was funny. He said it sounded like something that would happen to him. Oh, a kindred spirit!

I sure hope he ain't reading this. Yikes.

The Truth - Part One

It's time that we had a little talk.

I know no one wants to hear this. It's a subject that NO ONE talks about, but we all need to talk about it sometime. So tonight, the subject is death - most especially sudden death.

Please, don't leave. Hear me out on this.

Shortly after J's 2nd funeral (yes, we had two), I started thinking that someone should write a book that tells you exactly what to do when someone you love dies. Trust me, when it happens the one thing you need is someone to tell you what to do because you lose your mind. So I decided to talk about my experience with death and what I've learned along the way. Maybe it will help. I hope so.

The very first thing that you should know about death is that no one really has to tell you that your loved one has died. Somehow you know. Or maybe it's just me. I'm not sure. But the moment that my friend K came to my office and said "something has happened to your husband - you need to come with me", I knew. I knew J was gone. If he were alive and conscious, he would have called me himself first before anyone else. If he didn't call me, I knew he was gone.

I remember being at the hospital and seeing the ambulance drive up with no sirens on. I remember thinking "it's too late". I saw the nurse's face when she asked me if I had someone with me. My first words were "oh no, please". You just know.

Still, it doesn't lessen the shock at all. Sudden death is so unbelievably cruel. One minute you're fine. The next second you're dead. Someone should invent a new word to describe what it feels like to hear the words "I'm sorry, you're husband has passed away". Shock doesn't even scratch the surface of how you feel. It's like being struck by lightning over and over and over. You lose all sense of time, space, people. I could see and hear the things going on around me, but I couldn't process any of it. I couldn't react to any of it. The mind shuts down to keep you from taking it all in too quickly. You go numb. It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. You can't breathe.

The second thing you should know is that immediately you will be asked "Who can we call?" Go ahead. Make a list now and keep it in your wallet/purse/iPhone/organizer/whatever. They will most definitely ask you this, and you won't have enough mind to tell them. You'll need phone numbers for each person on the list.

I was wracking my brains trying to think of who to call. I had tried to get my parents on the phone, but no one was home. I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. My friend K (another K) who was at her work and just a few minutes away from the hospital. I just wanted someone who could get there quickly. She might not have been on my written list, if I had made one, but I knew she would come. I knew she would be there really fast too. And I knew she would know who else to call. You have to think about this. You need someone who will get to you quickly. Someone who can take charge. Someone who can let other people know what's happened. You'll be in no shape to think for yourself.

I know it's really, really hard to even think about, but please, make that list.

That's enough about that tonight. Part Two will come up again when I feel like I can write about it.

I am NOT getting another dog already. So shut it.

Will you people please let it go?

Honestly, I do not understand why everyone thinks I need another dog. I must look unbelievably miserable and lonely, I guess.

On Sunday, my friend K tells me that she has found me "the most perfect puppy in the whole world". Who is she kidding? I've had puppies before. I know they are far, far from perfect. Big W failed puppy kindergarten twice. The only thing he learned was that getting in the car means I get to go eat snacks. Nice try K. I'm not getting another dog. (I swear I just typed god again and had to fix it.)

Then today my work phone rings. I pick it up and say "hello, this is L." I hear this sunny voice say "Well, that just answered my question - I have the perfect dog for you." What? It's my friend S. She was checking to see if I was still depressed. I didn't think I was. I was having a pretty good day actually. So she goes into this long description of how wonderful this dog is. Then I ask "What kind of dog is it?" And she says "it's part Labrador Retriever and Great Dane."

GREAT DANE?? Are you out of your freaking mind? So I ask "Which part is Great Dane?" (not really wanting to know the answer as much as I was just being a smart ass). "Ha, Ha, very funny L. You NEED this dog. He is such a sweetheart." I NEED this dog like I NEED another hole in my head - like I NEED Bubonic Plague.

People, I know you care about me. I know you want to see me happy again. Another dog will not make me happy. Having J back would make me happy. He was not exactly the same thing as a dog.

READ MY LIPS: I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER DOG. (I just typed god again. What is up with that?)

Moving on now. So I e-mailed my new He-friend back today. I think I'll call him Mr. Charming instead of my He-friend. It just sounds a little nicer. We were talking about our most embarrassing stories. I won't tell his since he didn't send it out to the universe. He only sent it to me. But I told him about the time that my hair caught on fire at my friend's wedding. (No, I didn't just make that up. Who could make something like that up?). I can't wait to hear what he has to say about that. Surely any woman who is willing to tell you the sordid details of her hair fire at a public event is a keeper? Or he might think I'm some sort of fire bug nutcase. If that's the case, then it doesn't matter how wonderful he is - I wouldn't want someone who didn't appreciate the ridculousness of that story. My life is all about the ridiculousness. J thought it was hysterical. He laughed and laughed about it. He teased me unmercifully about it. That's why I was so crazy in love with him (and still am). The man knew how to appreciate the ridiculous.

Love me, love my crazy life. That's just how it works. You can't be afraid. I'm just one of those girls who's hair might catch on fire at any moment. It takes a special kind of man to appreciate that.

I know. I know. You want details.

Ok, long story short:

1. 1980's
2. I had BIG HAIR.
3. BIG HAIR requires lots of AquaNet to well...keep it BIG.
4. Serving punch at the wedding reception.
5. Leaned over a little too far.
6. Didn't see the candle.
7. POOF!!
8. Smoke and sizzling (I'm serious)
9. Guests are yelling "Someone's hair is on fire"
10. Someone is me.
11. Ran to bathroom
12. Looked in mirror
13. BIG chunk of BIG HAIR is missing!
14. Mortified.
15. Cry for 3 days. J laughs for 3 days. God love that man.

The end.

So there's the story. It's way more interesting in paragraph form, but that might take another hour to write.

I'll leave you with a little fire bug music. Really, I should be smacked for this one. But I'm just snarky like that. LOL.

Happy Birthday Mom! I love you. And to the Yard Apes: "Oh, Elvis, I love you!"



Lord have mercy, I love Elvis. You HAVE to have my favorite Elvis song in the whole world. Go ahead and stick like glue, Elvis baby.

Cleaning House and Feeling Better

I've been cleaning house today - both the actual house and my internal house.

This question was posed to me today: How is your relationship with yourself?

I thought about it for a long time today. I don't think I like myself very much at the moment - especially me over the past 3 days. So I decided it was time to purge some crap.

I'm done with some self-doubts, several bad behaviors and at least 4 people. Sometimes you have no choice but to deal with toxic people. You just can't get rid of them. But right now the window of opportunity is open for me, and I'm pushing my toxic people out of it. Happy landings some place else. Go make someone else's life miserable. I've had enough.

I fear I'm going to have a hard time keeping them out though. It may take awhile. But I've made it through worse. I can handle this too.

I'm not too happy with my foul language lately. I had straightened that up for a long time, and then I fell right back into it again. So I'm cleaning my mouth up.

And there's been some "you-should-know-better-stupid-girl" bad behaviors. Those gotta go for sure and will be the most difficult to fix. All I can do is try, right?

I had another random thing happen today (as always). There must be something about me that just invites weirdness to happen almost daily. I was walking into a store today and passed a man sitting on a bench on the sidewalk. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then he says "you got an extra cigarette honey?"

I was confused. Did I have cigarettes showing on me somewhere so that he thought I should have an extra? Do I look like I smoke? (I don't and never have for the record.)

So I say "I don't smoke." Then he says "ok honey." And I walk away only to hear him yell after me "Don't start honey!" I burst out laughing and yelled back "Don't worry, I won't honey!"

Random, but it made me laugh. He was still there when I left the store, so I went way around to avoid him. Since we had this "honey" relationship going, I was afraid what he might ask next.

Actually, I have to confess that I have another new friend. A non-smoker named C. He (yes, he's a he) is very sweet and very charming. He's definitely a unique character and has my attention at the moment. I know it's way too early in the grief to be thinking about a new man, but...
(like you couldn't see that but coming) he is pretty great. He gave me his e-mail address, and I just now got an e-mail from him. Holy smokes, he e-mailed first. How great is that? It's just about as great as a guy calling you the day after your first date. I think my little black heart just started beating again. At any rate, it's nice to have some attention about now. It doesn't hurt to have friends, right?

I'll be careful. I certainly don't need for the last remaining bits of my heart to be broken too. But I have to say that it does help the ol' self-esteem more than a little bit. After 22 years of being unavailable, you have to wonder if you're even interesting any more (and wonder about some other things too lol).

I think that tonight's song will be something from Keane. I don't think I've posted them yet. I love them even if the song is sort of a U2 clone (sounds a lot like Zoo Station to me - see what you think). I still like it anyway. They were really great on the Live Earth concert last year. And I'm crazy for the video. I wanna ride on that little track. lol

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QypdrBPE4jM

The embedding was disabled, so you have to use the link to see the video. But I couldn't get the link to be active, so you have to go to You Tube and copy/paste it into their search box.

Later gaters.

Insomniac on the Loose

It's after 2 a.m., and I'm still up. It's no big surprise anymore really.

I just found an interesting personality test online. Here's what I scored (if anyone cares):

Your result for The LONG Scientific Personality Test...

INFJ - the counselor

You scored 27% I to E, 26% N to S, 10% F to T, and 42% J to P!

Your type is best summed up by the word "counselor", which belongs to the larger group of idealists. Only 2% of the population share your type. You are so empathic that you often know what others need before they know themselves. You are a complex person who can deal with complicated issues and people, almost prefer to, as you love problem solving. You can be something of an idealist or perfectionist, and should try to take yourself a little less seriously.

You are a supportive and insightful romantic partner, encouraging your mate to have dreams and work hard to make those dreams come true. Because you are so creative, you have a wealth of ideas to help them toward those goals. You need harmony so much that you are driven to resolve conflict quickly, as long as the terms don't violate your ethics. You feel the most appreciated when your partner admires your creativity, trusts your inspirations, and respects your values. It is also vitally important that your partner be open and emotionally available - in other words, that they be willing to share themselves completely.

Your group summary: idealists (NF)

Your type summary: INFJ

Take The LONG Scientific Personality Test at HelloQuizzy

Only 2% of the population has this personality type? Strange. I bet they're all insomniacs too.

Saturday Night Loser's Club - Episode 4

Hey Kids! It's your favorite time of the week! Yep, time for another episode of The Saturday Night Loser's Club. (Applause)

Thanks for tuning in tonight. Let's get up in some business to start things off.

The Unveiling of the Big Name Change:
I changed the name of the blog because, frankly, I hated the first name. It was random. I was on drugs back then, so cut me some slack on a bad choice. (Drugs meaning sleeping pills not crack or anything like that.) The address for the blog is staying the same because I have no idea how to change it. And I might never find the blog again if I did change it. So whatever. The new name is shorter and is one of those double-meaning kind of things. I love when that happens. Think on it awhile. Maybe it will come to you what all the layers of meanings are on the new name.

Guess what? I'm not pissed off today. Nothing in particular happened to cheer me up. I haven't accomplished much today. I did remember (at the last possible second) to mail off the sales tax form that must go in the mail today. So that was good. Then I got my Mom a birthday present.

I did have a random thing happen today. I was driving along in town and looked up in my rearview mirror to see a very large mannequin staring at me over the roof of a pickup truck behind me. Obviously, I'm not letting this get by without a good look. So I pull over into the left hand lane and slow down for him to catch up to me. I whip out the cell phone and snap a photo as he drives by. The driver had this huge naked mannequin in the back of his truck. It must have been at least 6 feet tall or more. I'd give anything to know what's up with that, but he turned right and went on down the road. Maybe he was taking it out for a joyride? Or lunch? Or shopping for clothes? Maybe it was hitching, and he felt sorry for it? Maybe it was holding him hostage? Maybe he was in his Truck of Rage, and they had been out burning off some steam on the 4-lane?

Oh man, the ideas! Wonder where one would buy, pick up or get held hostage by a gigantic naked mannequin?

I haven't figured out how to get the photo off my phone yet. If I do, I'll plop it up here.

Speaking of Vehicles of Rage, I was having a little nap this afternoon when I had the most HORRIBLE nightmare. I dreamed/dreamt (I don't know which word is correct so you get both) that someone had stolen the Car of Rage. OMG, I know! It was horrible! I was dreaming that J and I were standing in the kitchen of our second apartment. There were boxes everywhere. We must have just moved in (which makes no sense because we owned nothing when we lived in the second apartment). But anyway, the nextdoor neighbors had stolen the Car of Rage. When I went out to the garage, the only thing that was there was a big black blanket lying on the ground. I unfolded the blanket and inside there were 3 full page ads that need to run in the phone book. I was just looking at them and thinking how nice all the blacks had printed. Then I burst out crying because my beloved Car of Rage was gone.

It was awful! I had to wake myself up and go to the window just to make sure it wasn't real. Thankfully, the Car of Rage was sitting in her garage all safe and sound. Talking about it again is getting me all anxious. I might need to go check one more time to be on the safe side.

So anyway, I went and looked this up on the dream dictionary. Here's what it said:

To dream that your car has been stolen, indicates that you are being stripped of your identity. This may relate to losing your job, a failed relationship, or some situation which has played a significant role in your identity and who you are as a person.

Hmmmm... I don't think I'm about to lose my job - unless there's something I don't know about. Would death count as a failed relationship? It definitely has played a significant role in my identity and who I am as a person. Dang, was I just dreaming about death again?

Maybe it's just the fear of having another big loss in my life? I think I'll just pop out and check on the Car of Rage one more time.

J's mom called again. I let it go to voicemail. I can't deal with that this weekend. I'm not sure why I've almost completely stopped answering the phone. Mom and Dad called. My friend M called twice. I even missed two text messages that would have had me out doing something fun today. I just let them all go to voicemail. I just freeze up when the phone rings. I was actually relieved when the cell battery died. I just can't deal with that phone anymore. It's stressing me out really badly. I know people are starting to worry though which just makes them hover. I can't deal with the hovering either.

Maybe I'm getting phobic of the phone? Just another reason to keep the shrink on the payroll, I guess.

Anyway, I spent my Saturday night watching the replay of Wednesday night's "Project Runway" and blowing up my new exercise ball. I sure didn't need any exercise after blowing that thing up. My arms were killing me. It took me nearly a half-hour to get it done. (And no, I didn't get to the fitness center this morning. I slept in instead. lol)

Not much else to say, so I'll just put up the music for tonight. I was digging around in some old stuff and found Meredith Brooks again. I had forgotten how much I love her. But I'm not posting that tonight. Go look her up on You Tube. She's awesome (See "Bitch", "What would happen", "Shatter" - all great).

Nope tonight is all about the hairbrush music. Yep, I resorted to hairbrush karaoke again tonight. It's sort of becoming a nightly ritual - blog followed by an hour or so of Hairbrush Karaoke. Last night it was all about Pink. I love her too. She will kick your butt.

Tonight's hairbrush karaoke song goes out to a couple of people in my life. You know who you are. Or at least you should.

Get out of the way. I'm going back out on the ledge. And I might just jump this time.

I'm about to have a major pity-party and unleashing of the anger. I have felt it welling up in me all day. I'm climbing back out on the ledge again. So if you don't want to hear it, shut the window and get out now. You've been warned.

It's friday night. The start of another l-o-n-g weekend of nothing, absolutely nothing. I am so freaking angry at J for dying. I swear if I could see him right now I would slap his face with all I've got. I'm beyond angry. I'm livid. Furious. I want to punch something or someone out. I want to tear up the house and set it on fire. I want to break some damn dishes up in here. I want to go out into the middle of town and have a raging, screaming, kicking, fighting, hair pulling, cussing hissy fit!

I didn't even much get out of the parking lot at work today until the tears started. I cried all the way home. I'm still crying right now. I swear I just want to lay down and die. And no, it's not because I have nothing to do on a friday night. I'm not that shallow.

It's because I miss my husband. I miss him. I want him back.

I want to die because the pain is relentless. It's unbearable. And the loneliness is beyond unbearable. You can't even begin to imagine how excrutiating it is. I don't think words have even been invented to describe it accurately. It takes everything I have inside not to buckle under the weight of it. A lot of the people in the online support group talk about "skin hunger" as being such a big part of the loneliness - just the need to be physically touched (and not just in THAT kind of way - get your mind out of the gutter). It's not just hunger. It's absolute desperation. Just to have a physical touch from someone makes all the difference sometimes. Just a hug. Anything.

And I do admit THAT kind of skin hunger is pretty damn desperate too. I'm not ashamed. It's completely normal to like sex - even a lot of sex. Grow up already and quit being such a prude.

But anyway, back to wanting to die. I was in the middle of a tirade. Oh yeah, I remember now.

What the hell is the point anymore? You work. You maybe eat. You don't sleep. You exercise and feel better only to have the grief bite you in the ass the next day. (Sorry, when I'm angry I can have a foul mouth.) It's like five steps forward and 7,000 back. It's getting really old. I just don't know if I feel like putting much more effort into it.

I know I'm tough. I know that somewhere inside me is the will to hang on and beat this somehow. I'm just so tired of having to dig deep to find it every single damn day. I swear I better not hear one person say "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Or if someone even looks like they are going to say "time heals everything", I swear I will go postal. I mean it. Don't try me.

You know what? Let's just make a list. I'm good at lists. Let's make a list of things that you should and shouldn't do for people like me (I refuse to call myself a widow because I loathe that hateful word).

1. Please DO NOT say any freaking cliches to make me feel better. Eventually, you will get smacked. I promise you that.

2. Please DO NOT act like my husband's death is the 10 ton elephant sitting over in the corner of the room that no one can talk about. I already know he's gone. I know it WAY more than you do. Trust me on that one. Tiptoeing around the subject does not make it go away. He has a name. You can talk about him. You can let me talk about him. You can say death/dead/dying/expired/passed away/whatever, and I will not freak out. I'm very comfortable with death. It doesn't scare me. It's a HUGE chunk of my life. When you ignore it, you ignore something that has made me who I am right now.

3. You CAN NOT make me sad. I swear I'd like to write this across the sky so that everyone on the planet can see it. You CAN NOT make me sad. I am sad because J died. So unless you personally caused J to die, you have no part in what makes me sad. My sadness is all my own.

4. Please DO NOT say "call me if you need something." I'll let you in on a little secret about those of us who are going through this: We will not call you. Nine times out of ten, we have no clue what we need. And ten times out of ten, we feel like a huge burden to anyone if we do call. I know it's just a polite thing to say, but after hearing it for the 3 millionth time and knowing that's it just to be polite, we get a little worn out on it.

5. Please DO NOT cut me off if I share something personal with you. I know. I spill a lot out here, but in person if I tell you something personal, it's because I feel safe with you. I trust you with what's left of my heart. When you cut me off, I feel isolated and alone again, and I feel like you don't care about me at all as a friend.

6. If you ask me how I am, be prepared to hear just about anything. I might say "fine." I might say "I hate the universe." I might burst into tears. I might burst into flames. I really don't know. I go from angry to sad to devistated to hysterical to empty and back around to angry sometimes in 3 seconds flat. I know it's kind of like opening the Mystery Date door. You don't know who you'll get. Could be the tuxedo guy? Could be the bum? Who knows? So maybe you should just not ask at all if you can't deal.

7. Please make me laugh as much as you possibly can. I live for it. Most days it's the only thing that keeps me off the ledge.

8. Let me cry. Please, for the love of dogs, just let me cry. I'm not ashamed of it. Tears are perfectly normal otherwise you would go to the doctor for medication every time you cried. I have a lot to cry about. I have a freaking lot to cry about. If I don't cry it out, I'll be out somewhere taking a baseball bat to some mailboxes or even worse, I'll be back on here unleashing on the universe. Just hand me some kleenex, and let me at it.

9. Please realize that I am a person with a very fragile heart right now. Be careful with it. It breaks very, very easily. (I know what you're thinking. Well, a minute ago she was all smacking faces, throwing a hissy fit and beating up on mailboxes. How fragile is that? Shut it. You obviously just don't get it.)

10. For the love of dogs, just please, please, please if you see or hear me out on the ledge, just check on me. I'm probably in crazy mode. I might be about ready to jump, and you might be the only reason I don't.

Ok, I think I'm about ready to come down off the ledge. I finally stopped crying. I'm still pissed off, but I'll go to the fitness center and burn that off in the morning.

Here's some damn music for you. It's a good angry song and just about how I feel today.

Thank God, at least Trent Reznor gets it.

Ssshhh... Don't read so loudly

I just got home from day #2 of the "No Wimps" Workout. The only places on my body that don't hurt are my eyelashes and my hair. I rode TEN MILES on the stationary bike, walked two laps, and did a few minutes of the Elliptical machine. Hey, I tried. It's just so freaking painful to get on that thing for very long. I don't know how the guys (J and MG) are on that thing full force for 20 minutes plus. I think I'll just have to keep at it. Eventually it will get easier.

I was seriously surprised to find that I was pissed off royally today. I had no idea. I know that sounds odd, but lately I don't let myself feel my emotions. It's been hard since J died to let myself feel very much because the pain is just about unbearable. But once I was on that stationary bike and had some angry music going, I realized that I was really, really angry - at the whole world, at J, at myself, at my life, at the random guy on the bike next to me, at the cute little skinny blonde who walked by. I pretty much was hating on the entire universe. Sorry for hating everyone. That anger pushed me 10 miles and 30 minutes on that bike at full force. It was actually harder to stop than it was to keep going. And I loved every freakin' minute of it. I found a new way to burn off the steam besides driving like a maniac in the Car of Rage. It's a really good time to think too. I did a lot of thinking in that 30 minutes and whole lot of sweating too. Sweat is actually not such a bad thing.

I feel a lot better mentally and emotionally - definitely a lot calmer and clearer-headed. But law mercy, my thighs hurt like hell. If I keep this up, one of these days I'm going to have the best thighs on the planet. And then the little skinny blondes of the world will be hating on me. I can hardly wait. Nah-nah-nah.

I have a goal too. It's to reach hot mama status. I'm not quitting until I'm one hot mama. Everytime I got sweaty and tired, I thought about my goal and kept right on going. LOL

What has happened to the L who was such a lazy-bones-couch-potato-blend-into-the-wallpaper-scaredy-cat?

I think she may have lost her freaking mind. She's definitely not someone I recognize, but I'm kinda liking her. She's feisty, tough as nails, willing to try pretty much anything, not above a little mischief, and can say no without feeling guilty about it. And she's not as guarded with people as she used to be. Sometimes, the wall still goes up, but it's ok. It'll come back down given a little time and patience. I wonder what my J would think of the new L? I know he'd definitely like all the sass. :-D

Anyway, it's starting to hurt to type. But what to have for the music tonight? I've debated back and forth for a bit. It's gotta be something with some sass, a little anger, and to die for. I gave you a double dose of Rocco last night, so the only other one that fits the criteria is Kenny Wayne Shepherd. I love KWS. And he's really, really easy on the eyes.

Play the blues baby. Make it hurt.

What a Freaky Day

Literally. It was a truly freaky day.

It must be the full moon. I know it always makes me go a little nuts. (all right, nuttier than usual.) I have been known to go out on the porch and howl with the dog at the full moon. What? He likes it. It makes him happy. Dogs need to unleash the wild thing in them occasionally (me too come to think of it).

Anyway, I can not go into details about the day because seriously it would screw up the universe. But trust me, this was a strange day. I can barely wait for tomorrow to see what else happens.

I had one of my worst nightmares happen today - the drop-in visitor. I DETEST the drop-in. My house looked like the gateway to Hell too. It was in no shape for a visitor. I didn't even want to look at it myself. I forget sometimes that people worry about me now that I'm on my own without J. And this week I've just been ignoring my phone a lot (well, except for the broken promise call which we will get to in a minute). So my friend R gets worried after she has left me 4 voicemails and called 6 times with no answer or reply. It never occurred to me that she might think I was dead or something. She was really worried. I feel horrible for making her worry. So, as much as I loathe the phone, I probably should answer it from time to time just so people know I'm still alive - and so they don't do the dreaded drop-in.

I have reason to celebrate. I did not break my promise to myself today. I was a really good girl. Can I still be considered good if I really just want to go Nah-nah-nah like a little kid? I guess that's not so good, but anyway, I stuck to my guns today. I decided that I've been selling myself way too short. I'm a nice person. I have a good heart. I deserve better - WAY better - and I'm worth it. I'm not settling for average (or worse - WAY worse) just because I'm crazy from grief and horribly lonely. Nope, I am now holding out for amazing and extraordinary someday. So as my dear old friend C would say, "La Bite Me."

I had a meltdown at work this morning. J's name was on a list of people who had passed away (long story). I thought I was prepared for it, but I wasn't. It hit hard. I just burst into tears all of a sudden. I don't know where they come from so quickly, but I can just burst out crying with no warning at all. I go from nothing to hysterical in 3 seconds. Then I had 2 people come in my office who tried to help, but they just made it worse. Then they left, and 2 more came in. At least they were helpful and able to drag me back down off the ledge. Then others were in and out of my office for the next little bit. I just wanted to say "I'm trying to grieve up in here - can I have a minute alone please?" I wonder what people would do if I said that to them? Maybe I should sometime. I won't. I never do stuff like that.

I was very surprised to find that I am not sore today from the workout - well, my arms were a little. So it's back to the fitness center for us tomorrow. Good times.

What the crap is it about cats? Why do they insist on sitting on the keyboard? They are making me crazy lately. Either they are on the keyboard or they are jumping into my lap and scaring me half to death.

And can I just take a second to talk about the people who are constantly scaring me half to death at work? Stop it. Seriously. Just stop it. I'm extremely jumpy. I truly can't help it. I have very, very good reasons (ask my shrink sometime). I have PTSD. Don't sneak up on me from behind. And please, please, please don't startle me. You are making the PTSD worse. I'm barely surviving as it is. I really can't deal with this too. Please, please, just stop. I think you'd feel pretty crappy about doing that to me if you knew why I was so jumpy. And besides, you should just do that for me if I ask you as my friend. I'm asking as a friend - in case that's not clear.

So anyway, tonight's music is to die for once again. It's by one of the three hottest men on the planet - Rocco Deluca (the other two are Trent Reznor and Mr. Hotness, of course - just so you know - yes, there are others, but these are the top 3). Trent is hot in that crazy, dark and scary kind of way. Mr. Hotness is hot in that sexy voice/blue eyes/muscles kind of way. And Rocco is hot in that dirty boy kind of way. Oh how I love me some dirty boys. Plus, I can't keep you as a friend if you don't love Rocco. It's mandatory. Enjoy...




Oh heck, go ahead and have yourself another dose of Rocco. You know you want to. And it is so worth it.

I got it bad...

I really do.

I am EAT UP with these bug bites (Southern expression). One person at work thinks it might be chiggers. I don't see how you can get chiggers just sitting on a deck. Don't you have to be out in the weeds or at least in the grass to get chiggers? All I know is that these bites are everywhere, and they itch like crazy. I was scratching like a hound all day today. And I even carried Hydrocortisone with me to work, but it didn't help. I might as well have just been spreading ketchup on me. I think the bug bites were liking the Hydrocortisone. By the way, I looked it up on the internet, and chiggers do not actually burrow into your skin. So thanks for trying to creep me out today L (not me L, another L). Nice try.

Did I mention the bug bites are kind of hot to the touch? Does that mean they're infected? I don't feel so good now.

Anyway, today was a better day (in general) despite the fact that I broke the promise to myself AGAIN. I am truly pathetic. And what's worse, I broke it before I even got to work this morning. I hate that I have no willpower. I hate that I don't want to have any willpower even more. Ok, tomorrow, I will just turn the phone off as soon as I get in the car. I will not answer the phone. I will not answer the phone. I WILL NOT answer the phone because I can't answer it if I don't hear it, right? A few days of that should get me back on track again. Let's hope.

Today was the first day of the "No Wimps" Workout. It freaked me out a little to see just how quickly sweat happens. Seriously, I lean a little bit more to the girly-girl side, so sweating is way out of my comfort zone (unless it's a Michael Hutchence kind of sweat lol). Twice around the track and 5 minutes into the stationary bike, I was sweating like a Ho in church. We biked for 10 minutes, then went to the Elliptical machine. It kicked my butt and took my name. That thing HURTS! I mean it. I'm getting back on it thursday for sure. I'm not letting some assembled piece of metal kick my butt and take my name. It's standing between me and my clothing bonfire. Nothing is keeping me from having my clothing bonfire (dig a hole in the yard, lay clothes in hole, set on fire - sound familiar?).

I have to say that the guys (MG and J) made it fun, and they tried to teach me how to do some things. I felt bad for them because I am a horrible student. I have no aptitude for copying movements and such. I see how you do something, and it looks easy. But then I try it, and it's in reverse of what I just saw you do. Then I get all confused. Plus, I'm not 20 something years old any more. I do well to walk and chew gum at the same time. I'm a natural klutz too. If it's on the ground or anywhere near my feet, I will trip on it. Ask the Sports Medicine Doctor who dealt with my broken foot all last summer.

Also, I have to say that the weight room freaked me out more than a little. I walked by this one guy who was straining so hard that he was all red and looked like he might pop a vein at any minute. He was yelling something that sounded like GRRRRR or some kind of gutteral man sound. There was WAY too much testosterone in that room. And it seemed really disorganized with all those big huge weights lying around everywhere. I was afraid one might fall on me or me on it. It was a kinda overwhelming and scary (and smelly). I don't think I want to go back there ever again.

I'm looking forward to going back on thursday for the other stuff though. I'm not sore at the moment, so either:
A. I didn't push myself far enough

or

B. It hasn't hit me yet.

The biggest surprise of all is how much the exercise has improved my mood and the depression. I was really struggling this afternoon. But by the time we left the fitness center, I had forgotten all my woes (not the bug bites) and was feeling pretty happy. I'm still feeling pretty good. The shrink was right. She said exercise would help. I'm sure it will make her all gloaty to know that she was right. (Gloaty? I made up another word.) Maybe exercise helps your vocabulary too?

The only thing is that I couldn't stop thinking about my J and how many times we said we were going to exercise and eat better. I just wonder if he'd still be here if we had actually made an effort to do those things. I feel so guilty over it. I should have made him take better care of himself. I mean he was active and not overweight, but I feel so terrible that I didn't take care of him enough. I should have made him go to a cardiologist for a full evaluation. I just didn't think he would really drop dead one day. The guilt just eats me up inside day and night. I don't think I can ever forgive myself for not pushing him to take care of himself better or for not taking care of him myself. I feel like his death is my fault.

But anyway, it was a good thing to go get some exercise.

So I was looking for some music for tonight that might go with the whole workout theme. There were some obvious choices that I could have picked, but let's think outside the box, shall we?

How's about a little "Sweat" by Tool? (Don't watch the video. It's pretty bad.)

No Willpower. No Ex's. And No Wimps.

I had a tough night last night. I didn't fall asleep until after 1:30 a.m. sometime. Then I was up a couple of times during the night, and finally got up at 6:30 a.m. So I've had minimal sleep again. Why is sleeping so blame hard? Isn't that supposed to be a natural thing? You would think that at some point the body would just give up and sleep on it's own without the mind's consent. I find it hard to believe that it doesn't work that way.

Grrr. The phone was just ringing. Ex again. That's starting to freak me out more than a little. Again, no message. Newsflash: all those reasons that you are "Ex" and not "Current" are still in force.

So then this morning was horrible at work. I was so tired and feeling lower than dirt again. I couldn't get going on my work and couldn't concentrate. I couldn't think. I just wanted to wallow in my miserableness. (Did I just make up a word? It sounds like it should be a word.) To make matters worse while I was enjoying Saturday night under the stars, something was enjoying me. I'm covered in some kind of terrible itchy bites. I was truly pathetic this morning.

And then the very promise I made to myself all weekend and last night just went flying straight out the window. I have no willpower whatsoever. Absolutely none. I go completely stupid. And the bad thing is I really don't care that I have no willpower. I try to care. I tell myself I better start caring, but I really don't so therein lies the problem. (This is one of those things that only makes sense to me, so unless you are me just move along.) And I tell myself over and over I'll do better, but I know when push comes to shove that I won't because I really, really want to have no willpower. I want to give in.

So anyway, MG (from work) and I have decided to start working out together in the afternoons. We joined the fitness center today. We're now each other's reason to get our sorry butts moving (ok my sorry butt, not his). The plan is to start tomorrow immediately after work. I'm so ready. Our motivational slogan is "No Wimps". Nobody wimps out. We're signed up for an entire year, so we better get going.

Tonight, I have to say that I am very sleepy. Maybe the body is winning over the mind tonight?

The music tonight is to die for. Seriously. I am not kidding. Can I just say how much I love and adore Blue Man Group? Ok, I love, love, love, love and adore Blue Man Group. But then they went and added in Mr. Gavin Rossdale. Shut up! This is clearing off the kitchen table music (and I don't mean doing the dishes). You better love it or you can't be my friend.

WTH is going on???? Seriously.

I just got news that two more dear friends have died - V from church and Mr. M who was a friend and a client of my J's for many, many years. Mr. M was one of the first people we met when we moved here. We've known him for 20 years. The lawyer that I hired to take care of J's business told me the other day that Mr. M had called her. He wanted to know if I would be offended if he sent me some money. He just wanted to help me somehow. This is just unbelievable.

Five friends, my husband and my dog have died in the past nine months.

WTH is going on?

I need a hug

Man, I am just having THE WORST anxiety tonight. Actually, I've been like that all day.

My heart is just pounding so hard in my chest, and I feel all jittery. I'm really jumpy and panicky too. The problem is that I know exactly what's causing it, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to fix it. I know that sounds all cryptic, but I'd prefer to keep it to myself and not broadcast it out to the universe. It won't change the situation anyway. This is my therapy. I write this blog to myself mainly. And I know what's wrong, so that's enough.

But what to do to alleviate this anxiety? I've tried church, music, tv, lunch out with friends, driving around in the Car of Rage, talking to my Dad on the phone, chatting with message board friends, a hundred games of Minesweeper, laundry - basically anything I can think of to distract my mind for awhile. I even tried cleaning. But I can't stop it. I can't make this particular anxiety go away. I guess I'm just going to have to feel it and ride it out for the duration. It's a lot like the way that the grief comes in waves. There's no way around it. I just have to walk through it.

But I'm really, really tired of having to walk through it all the time. I'm tired of being brave. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of having to do it all for myself. Sometimes, I just want to be weak and have someone take care of me. I just need someone to wrap me in their arms and hold me for a little while. I know that sounds whiney. I can't help it. That's the way I feel. At this point, I am seriously considering throwing my arms around the first living breathing person that I see out on the street in the morning.

I know. It's not like I don't have a ton of people I could call for anything anytime. It would just be nice if I didn't have to ask - if there could be one person who would just see in my eyes how bad it is and understand and try to make it better even for a few moments.

Well great, the grief monster is biting again. See, it's just awful. I hate it. I've gone and made myself cry. I'm a pathetic miserable mess sometimes. If this is how life is going to be for the next 40 or 50 years, I don't think I want to hang around anymore.

I wasn't going to put up any music tonight, but this seems to fit.



Maybe I should make a big sign?

Saturday Night Loser's Club - Episode # 3

Apologies in advance to all the SNLC members. Tonight, I was out. Can you believe it? Yep, it's true. It's Saturday night, and I had something to do. I just got home, and it's way after 10 p.m. too. I'm so happy. lol

It's been kind of an interesting day today. I slept until 9:30 this morning. I had 9 consecutive hours of blissful sleep last night. That's gotta be some kind of personal best for me.

So about lunch time, I decide that the Car of Rage needs a bath. She's looking a little on the nasty side. And I was going into a nice neighborhood tonight, so we should be presentable probably. So I go over to this little do-it-yourself car wash place. I'm happily spraying soap on and having a nice zen moment only to realize that it's not getting the job done. I still see dirt. A-ha! Brilliant idea: use the foam brush. I put the money in and select foam brush. I pick up the foam brush only to find that massive amounts of pink foam are shooting out the end of this brush like a firehose. Maybe that's how it works? I have no idea. My previous car only got washed once in 4 years, and then I only used just the sprayer thing. (I know that sounds like I'm some kind of lame girl. I assure you I am not. I just don't know the technical name for the sprayer thing.)

Anyway, the foam seems manageable - a little excessive but still manageable. But then this giant hole opens up in the plastic pipe that connects the brush into the hose. Now not only is there foam shooting out the end, it's spraying out the side of the pipe like Old Faithful. To make matters worse, the wind starts to blow. Can you see where this is going? I have never in my life seen so much foam. I have never in my life had so much foam on me personally. It was all over my clothes. It was in my hair. It was piling up on the ground. The more I tried to move, the worse it got. It was like I wandered into some episode of I Love Lucy. Foam was on the ceiling and the walls. It was shooting out of the stall onto the ground. I thought if I could just hang the brush back up, I could run over and switch the dial back to water right quick. But everytime I tried, it made the foam squirt straight up and then fall straight down on my head. I finally just held the whole thing out from me and waited until the time ran out. When I rinsed everything with water, I couldn't believe it. The Car of Rage was STILL dirty. I, however, was completely sparkling clean head to toe. Note to self: Car of Rage needs bath. Automatic car wash only.

Then I figure I may as well go to the Post Office and check the mail. As I'm driving by, I see firetrucks and ambulances everywhere. The new Indian restaurant is on fire and burning like crazy. A few weeks ago, nearly everyone in our office went to lunch there. It was quite the experience. I'm an adventurous sort, but not when it comes to food. But there was a buffet, so I figured there was something that I would be ok eating. Everything was labeled with it's name, but personally I was more interested in the individual ingredients of each dish. I don't like surprises in my food. I dipped out some things that looked safe enough. But when I got back to the table, they had all kind of run together. It looked like someone had thrown up in my plate, and there were big chunks in it. I can't get past that thought. I wound up eating a plate full of watermelon and some pickled carrots. The pickled carrots turned out to be the worst mistake of all. They were so spicy that they made me sweat for an hour after we got back to work. I have a feeling it was those carrots that burned the place down.

Later in the afternoon, I came across the Reincarnation Placement Test online. Basically, you answer some questions, and then they tell you what you will come back as if you get reincarnated. I wasn't expecting the news that I got.

Here's what it said:

Your result for Reincarnation Placement Exam...

Lol Cat

44% Intrigue, 29% Civilization, 60% Humanity, 39% Urbanization.

After much consideration, we have decided to make you a LolCat.

Actually, there wasn't much consideration at all. It was the easiest decision we've made all day.

Why? Because, according to your answers, you want to have your good times, but don't seem too interested in all that "other stuff." You know... civilization, adventure, that sort of thing.

We hope you like being fluffy.

I don't know... Can you has cheezburger?

Take Reincarnation Placement Exam at HelloQuizzy

What do they mean I'm not interested in civilization and adventure? The universe is laughing at my expense I think. I get to be Crazy Old Cat Lady in this life, and the pet of some Crazy Old Cat Lady in the next? I can hardly wait (rolling eyes). An online friend of mine took the test too. She said she's coming back as a borg cube. I have no idea what a borg cube is. I think a LOLCat might be better. (See http://icanhascheezburger.com/ to see what the LOLCats are all about.)

So anyway, tonight I was out at my friend N's house (as in N of N&D - the fart machine girls). The three of us sat out on the deck and enjoyed the gorgeous mountain views, the full moon, the cool evening breeze and some good eats. There was cheese, salami (I still don't eat pigs), grapes, crackers, dip, chocolate and wine. Now I don't drink wine, but I absolutely love the bottles and seeing it in beautiful wine glasses. I like the smell of it too. She had beautiful plates and silverware, real napkins and interesting serving trays and dishes. A little pumpkin scented candle was in the middle of it all. I just couldn't stop looking at the table. It was all so pretty in the candlelight under the stars. I had a little daydream that we were at a beautiful villa in Tuscany. I just melted into my chair and enjoyed the easy conversation. It was so relaxing and so beautiful. I'm very, very sappy. Just being under the starry sky makes me all dreamy. I was saving the picture of it all in my head to replicate for someone special someday. Wonder if Mr. Hotness would enjoy it? I can't imagine that fast food is what he's all about.

Anyway, it was an interesting day. I feel much better. Well except for that part about the reincarnation.

Tonight's video is in honor of the dreaminess I feel tonight...

Getting a Do-Over

I had a bad day yesterday. Well, not a bad day exactly. More like a bad evening. I had a good long think about it. It occurred to me that anytime you wake up in the morning you get a do-over. It's a chance to turn it around and make it better. Maybe that's the thing that keeps me going through all this?

Anyway, that's the attitude I'm going to try to adopt. Each day's garbage stays with that day. When the day is over, take the trash out.

Have a great do-over. (This video/song is one of my favs.)

Back up the truck

I just went back and re-read that last post and listened to the music. Good gracious. Just because I'm sad, I shouldn't make the rest of the world suffer with me.

I thought I better come back and put up something happy. I've had two videos that were kind of sad in a row. So here you go world.



No one can listen to the B-52s and be sad. Cheer up, and maybe I will too.

Sigh. Just Sigh.

A really, really big heartfelt sigh from me to the world tonight. Grief sucks.



Is there anything more beautiful than Sarah McLachlan's voice?

I'm really just too sad to say much else tonight.

Music to soothe the savage beast

Feeling moody? Grumpy? Out of sorts?

Poor baby. Let Chris Botti fix it.

I got a lot on my mind tonight

I really do. I think maybe I should just do a list. It'll be easier that way. Plus it's late, and for once I'm actually sleepy. And I am NOT missing a chance to sleep.

1. Today's Randomness: So I ordered a pizza after work because my friend S was coming over to the house tonight. When I went in to pick it up, the lady at the cash register asked me if I had come to claim the "odd" pizza.

Odd?

It was half black olives, bacon and mushrooms and half green olives and mushrooms. Is that odd? This lead to a big discussion about why no meat on the other half. I don't eat pigs. Pork gives me a migraine. Then out of the clear blue sky, Miss Cashier actually says to me "I like the beef and bacon combo myself, but it makes me POOT."

WTH? I know she didn't just say it makes her POOT? Then she says "Yeah, and my friends always have to leave right after." I think I may be more surprised that she actually has friends who come over rather than the fact that they leave. Must be some kind of lethal explosive combo that beef and bacon? Reason #2 not to eat pigs. They make you poot.

2. Movie: Tonight S and I watched the movie "Secondhand Lions". Oh mercy, it was sooo good. I highly recommend it. It's all about living - really living. It's definitely on the keep list. We both laughed and cried - the mark of a truly good movie.

3. Backwards: It has come to my attention that I'm blogging backwards. I write first. Then I go out and post a video. So the video that goes with the post is on top. So it's out of order when you read it. It looked right in the list on the left hand side of the page. I haven't decided if I want to change yet. The rebellious side of me doesn't want to change just to play by the rules. We'll see what happens.

4. Headache: I'm getting one. I think a piece of bacon slipped onto my side of the "Odd" pizza. You might want to get out now before the pooting starts.

5. Hair and the Universe: Yes, yes, yes - hair again. I hate my hair. I hate my hair. I HATE my hair. The bangs are too short. The rest is too long. Some of it's flipping out. Some of it's turning under. I wouldn't be surprised if it just stood straight up on it's ends at some point like the Bride of Frankenstein.

The universe is off kilter again.

6. I AM NOT getting another dog: Why does everyone think I need another dog? I can't make the one I have happy. Why would I want two pissed off dogs? I went to the doctor on Tuesday to see about getting better meds to help me sleep. So Doctor says to me "Why aren't you sleeping? Didn't you get a dog?" What? I don't care. Even if you write it down on that prescription, I am not getting another god. I mean it. I really do.

7. Phone Calls: At the top of my list of things I hate the most, #1 is SPIDERS, #2 is my hair, and #3 is the telephone/cell phone. I can't stand to talk on it. I don't like to hear it ring. The only thing it's useful for is Verizon time. It's the only way to know what time it really is in the world. And sometimes, it does come in handy for an extra alarm clock when you've had sleeping pills and have to get up to go to work. Otherwise, the phone is just a necessary evil to me. So tonight while I have company, my phone rings 12 times. TWELVE SEPARATE PHONE CALLS! (Yes, I meant to scream.) My phone never rings like that until I have company. I think one of the calls was from Ex. He's the only one I know with that area code. He didn't leave a message. Figures. I know. I can turn it off, but I have old people in my life. They might need something. I can't just leave them to fend for themselves. Stupid phone.

8. Clothes: I am going to make a big hole in the yard. Then I am going to take all my clothes and lay them in the hole. And then I am going to set fire to it. I hate my clothes. My clothes hate me more. On the upside, I have lost 15 lbs., so my new clothes will be a size smaller. The new clothes will love me, and I will love them. We will be very happy together.

9. Moody?: Maybe. A little. I make no apologies for it. #1: I'm a woman. It's in the handbook that I can be moody on occasion. #2: I'm hormonal. See the handbook. #3: I'm a Cancer. By nature, we are moody people - very sensitive and emotional. Look it up. I am my sign. Sometimes, I just need to crawl back in my little shell and hide. #4: I'm grieving.

And besides, I'm getting a headache and expecting to have poots soon.

10. Order: Just throwing in a 10 to keep things in order. Lists can't just end with nine. It just doesn't seem right.

Sweet dreams to Mr. Hotness and all.

Of course, I had to pick this song...

in honor of Mr. Hotness. Thanks for serving up a great lunch.

I've Got a Crush (and other random stuff)

So I'm blogging early tonight because I have a little date with some Ambien, and we're going out early. lol

I have such a crush.

Man, he is suh-weet too. Now, look. I love J more than anything in the whole world, and I always will. But J is not here. Mr. Hotness is however, and I'm not completely oblivious to the opposite sex just because I am grieving.

I met Mr. Hotness today at the drive-thru of a local fast food eatery. I drove up to the speaker and heard this low, sultry voice slowly say "Can I take your order?" Holy moley. That voice was to die for! Goose bumps!

Then I drove around to the window. When he walked up, he was all muscles and blue-blue-blue eyes with a little 5 o'clock shadow and an amazing smile. Not big huge muscles - just perfectly right muscles. You know the kind. Thank goodness I was wearing a seatbelt otherwise I would have keeled right over. So he says "Six forty-five". That VOICE!! I was thinking "that works for me", but then I realized he meant that was how much I owed him. I'm sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot sitting there in the Car of Rage with my mouth hanging open all stupid-eyed. But the best was when he handed me my food, he kind of looked at me sideways (you know THE LOOK ladies) and said "Have a really great day."

Dang. I think I just did.

I thought about going back around through the drive-thru, but that would have been a little obvious and a little weird too. That was the best lunch EVAH. I have no idea what I even ordered. I think I might eat there everyday now. Sigh. He was pretty and made my little black heart just melt.

I went back to work and told some of my friends about him. I posted to my friends on the message board too. They want photos now, of course. I'm taking suggestions on the best way to get a photo without actually going up to him and asking to take his picture. Oh and then, the message board girls wanted to know what town, what state and what restaurant.

Like I'm about to give up that info? Every woman within 5 states would be over there clogging up the drive-thru. Nice try honeys, but Mr. Hotness is mine. Find your own drive-thru man.

I was going to keep the bag that the food came in, but it had a slogan written on it. Something about customer satisfaction. Those of us with dirty minds would be thinking something triple X, so I just cut out the logo and hung it on my bulletin board at work. Sort of as a reminder that I'm still alive, and men are too. (And no, I am NOT looking, but I sure can't help seeing.)

I don't want to actually meet him. I don't want to know anything else about him. The fun of the crush is all in the thinking about it. I'm sure I'll be driving through again sometime soon. ;-) And besides, he's not my only crush.

Well, now I can't even remember the other random things that I had on my mind. I do have to say that I'm a little concerned about that massive super collider thing that got tested today. They say if it screws up that it could be the end of the world. I think in like 15 months or something? If that happens, I'm spending the next 15 months in the drive-thru with Mr. Hotness.