LEEP of Faith? No, Death, Definitely Death

So, results back from the doc...

Not bad enough for the insurance to cover the hysterectomy, but enough to cover a LEEP procedure...which yay! Not cancer.  But boo! I could have to possibly have to get this done AGAIN down the road, and let's be honest, it sucks ass trying to get time off from my job, and really not looking forward to seeing the gyno every six months, so quite frankly, I was hoping to get everything ripped the fuck out.

I'm never having kids, no plans to EVER, so why not? Stupid insurance; Doc Awesomesauce says that it wouldn't cover a hysterectomy at this point; test results were abnormal, but not THAT abnormal (obviously there are levels of abnormal in the medical field) which is too bad;  I was looking forward to 4-6 weeks off from work, with people taking care of me, and pain pills.  No such luck.  Back to work in a day or two, which sucks, because I have no sick time left, and trying to schedule off time from work from what is basically a call center is hard as shit.

But whatever.  I'm going to ask Dr. Awesomesauce to recommend that I'm off at least 6 days for recovery...that way I will get paid.  Yes, I'm  working the system, but I'm also a big fat wimp when it comes to pain, so knowing me, I will be wallowing in bed for that long after this procedure.  Because IT SOUNDS HIDEOUS.

But it's not cancer. So that's a plus.


Pre-surgery: Oct 10, actual surgery Oct 15.  Whining and moaning about it: for weeks and weeks after.

Meanwhile, it's almost Friday, and College Football Saturday is almost upon us, so just one more day until the weekend.  It's weird, I've been feeling strangely sad and alone and missing the Rottenator, which is VERY weird, because he's been here and stuff, but I don't know...maybe it's his preoccupation with Grand Theft Auto 5 or maybe it's just the state of mind I've been in, but I've been feeling VERY alone lately.  Doesn't help that we work different shifts, I guess, but it is truly an odd sort of feeling for me, because I usually love my alone time.  Ah, well. Hormones, I guess.  Zoloft cannot take care of everything.  But I'm feeling okay.

Oh, and seriously, why do I like Nicki Minaj? Someone explain to me why I find her so catchy because she is my:

Mood Ring(Tone) Of the Day:

This also brought me great joy this week; it's just fun, and I adore Stephan Merchant.

Thanks for keeping up with me; I'll now go lurk around and keep up with all of you...

C is for cookies...

That's good enough for me; however, it is not good enough for the Rottenator.  Mr. "We need to save money for a second car and Harry Potter blah blah blah" would not touch a left-over even if it slapped him in the face and demanded to be eaten.

I don't get it.  I can make a beef stew on Sunday, and still be snacking on it for lunch on Tuesday.

The Rottenator, however, is convinced that bacteria starts forming on meat within two hours of it being prepared so he won't touch it.

HOWEVER, he will chow down on a chocolate peanut butter Reeses bunny like it's nobody's business if it's left in a cabinet for more than one day.

He ate the face first.  Then finished off the rest of it with abandon.

I relayed this information to my mother who happened to mention that I may possibly have food issues (duh!) and this particular "all the food in the universe is mine don't touch it or I'll cut you" impulse is heriditary.

Good to know I'm crazy for a reason.  It seems my father was the same way.  In fact, the Mother relayed an incident wherein my father and my godfather left their chocolate bunnies in the refridgerator for more than one hour and she devoured them both and my dad freaked the fuck out. With good reason.  My mother's explanation:

"Well I warned them."  Are you kidding me?  THAT IS NO EXCUSE!!!!

It was MY chocolate peanut butter bunny and there will never be another one like it and you took it from me and now you must suffer and possibly die.

Those are the consequences of touching MY food.

Tell me people, who is right in this situation?  And if you say that it's anyone other than me, believe me, I know how to cut a bitch.

My Mood Ring(tone) Of The Day:

I'm sick, leave me alone

So after days of watching people around me call in sick and striving to be the better person, the trend bucker, as it were, I succumbed...and now I'm home "sick" myself.

Which has caused me stress.  You see, my goal at my new job is to be the ideal employee, or at the very least, be the sort of employee that passes right underneath the radar and gets left alone.  Or, ideally, forgotten.

Because this has become my life:

And also because the Rottenator woke me up at 3am to discuss finances because due to a slight miscalculation on his part, we are in the red again.

*sigh*  Seriously?  Just...can't...do...it...anymore.

So after transferring all of his fear and frustration and guilt onto me, he is peacefully sleeping and I am wide awake and slightly panicked.  We will be fine, surely, but once again things are tight.

Short month, purchasing a secondary car that needs repairs, yada yada yada, the perfect solution is to call out from work right?

Right.  Because if it works in the movies, then surely this plan will be as successful in real life.

And instead of relaxing and enjoying this much needed break from payroll, I will spend the entire day afraid of losing my job and getting into trouble.  Because at heart, I am more a Cameron than a Ferris.

But I'm just tired, yo...and sometimes it's hard to stay motivated.

My Mood Ring(tone) Of The Day:

Just Breathe...

Sometimes I forget my own philosophy.  It's the Virgo in me, I guess.  What the above does not say,  however, is that sometimes, you have to take a breath, pull up your big girl britches, grab a faithful companion, and get shit done!

So the money situation is somewhat resolved.  It involved me taking a day off from work, and driving up to our state's capital with a purpose:  I needs my merney!

The IRS: could not get my agent on the phone; bank would not release my money, IRS didn't send over the right release form, back and forth, each blaming the other, I would call it phone tag with the exception being I was the only one making the calls, so bottom line, I hunted that bitch down and showed up in person with one evil looking boy from Alabama and refused to leave until I got paid!

And was home by 11am.  And had my money returned that same day.  Funny how even in the age of new technology, with smart phones, texts, emails, faxing, sometimes the old fashioned approach works the best.

Show up in person with folder in hand and take no shit attitude.

Still, we are out $300 in bank overdraft fees, but we got the big chunk back.  Which is significantly better than nothing.

The worst part of it was (other than the returned check from my garbage pickup which was my final straw) was the fact that it wasn't just my money that was affected.

The Rottenator and I have a joint account, so not only was my paycheck hijacked, so was his.  His hard-earned paycheck from a job he can't stand (which he is soon out of) was eaten up by means of a direct deposit and overdraft fees.

I felt guilty beyond belief; he, however, handled it wonderfully.  Even though this was MY mistake, made long before the two of us even met, he saw it as OUR problem, OUR money, OUR hurdle to get past.

And I love him all the more for that.  Maybe this was a lesson, that I was taking him, and our recently more comfortable life for granted by claiming I was bored, I don't know.  Of course, my boredom could have also been cured by suddenly inheriting a million bucks, but this worked, too.

A heightened appreciation of the Rottenator, and an appreciation of my "boring" and drama free life.  Lesson learned. And I realized, that once again, I do have a support system, people that love me, people that are willing to help out no matter what, and I am infinitely blessed.  PS: thanks Mom.  You know what for. I am, as always, grateful.  And I promise that one day, you will not have to step in and bail out your 40 year old daughter.

Though I'll always be your favorite, right?  ;-)

So, things are better, not completely perfect, but close enough for me to be able to relax for a minute and appreciate.  I've also reached out to a very close friend that I knew over college and through my own selfishness, let the relationship flounder and die.  And they responded favorably, as they always have when I have failed them in the past.

It makes me want to be a better person, and to appreciate people more.  And be more accepting of what I perceive of as "flaws" and "shortcomings" in others.

Because I am far from perfect, and yet seem to be the first one to cast a stone. Empathy, it is MY major shortcoming, because I seem to have very little of it for others, yet demand tons of it for myself.

But I'm learning, and I'm working on it.

Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!  My sister sent me this:

which was amazingly awesome; have I mentioned that you must be watching the Vampire Diaries?  It is the one hour a week that I can escape the pressures of adulthood and forget myself in teenage drama, and I love it for that.

And the Rottenator and I enjoyed a lovely dinner out; we celebrated early because he's working tomorrow night, but that's okay.  At least the IRS couldn't manage to ruin that.


My (two!) Mood Ring(tones) Of the Day:

The gubment do take a bite, don't she?

Remember how I complained recently about being bored?  I take it all back!

My goals for this year included trying to make amends for mistakes I had made in my past.  To continue on a path of being a better person, make amends, become an upstanding member of society, yada yada yada, and then boom!  Your past mistakes catch up with you with a vengeance and despite all of the effort and progress you've made, you're back to square one.  Or, actually, back to square minus 1.

Or, minus every cent in your bank account.

Without going into too much detail, due to past indiscretions, I had managed to rack up a substantial amount of back taxes due to the world-famous IRS.  This was the time to make up for that; the Rottenator and I both have stable incomes, stable jobs, and it was time to repay my debt to society.

I did not realize that society would be so swift and vengeful.  Oh, yes, people complain about how lax and ineffective the US government is, how they take forever to get anything accomplished, but obviously that does not include the swiftness and efficiency they display when it comes to getting paid.

And oh yes, did they ever get paid.

Not two days after filing this year's taxes and contacting an agent to discuss payment arrangements regarding past due taxes, the IRS swooped swept(?) in and summarily wiped out our bank account.

Every...fucking...cent.

So as I sit here, helpless wondering how we're going to pay our bills, make our way to our jobs, keep our car and our house and even the Nooge, I find myself wondering...why bother?

Why bother trying to be a better person?  To right past wrongs?  To make up for past mistakes? To even have hopeful expectations that this life is anything other than a constant struggle to barely manage to keep your head above water to barely survive?

It would be fantabulous if I were a stronger person, if I could withstand the constant obstacles that life throws at you and still move forward cheerfully, with the faith and knowledge that everything will be just fine.  But I am not.

I can't decide if I am weak, or if I'm just over it.  Like, "been here, done that, finished with the struggling already, please give me a fucking break".

I blame myself. I know that I have dug this hole for myself, but seriously, can't I have two second of being bored without the higher powers stepping in and saying, "Oh, you're bored?  You're not happy with your life?  Well, deal with this then, heifer!"

Doesn't God realize that sometimes you're PMS-ing and you just need to vent, and he doesn't need to go around mucking things up just to make life more "interesting"?

Not that I blame him; I'm too Catholic and too fearful of his wrath to do that, but seriously...I take it back. I take it all back.

Much like the IRS.

My Mood Ring(tone) Of The Day:

Sidebar: did you know that this was the theme song to M.A.S.H.?  That was one of my Dad's favorite shows. For some melodramatic reason that just makes me more sad and depressed.

Oh hey, Aunt Flo, how have you been?

Let's just go ahead and file this post under TMI, mmmkay?

So, yeah, while I'm still convinced that I'm suffering from the early onset of Alzheimer's Perimenopause, I did have a surprise visitor this past holiday which was a not so much a pleasure as it was a relief.  The main reason I'm documenting this is so that I'll be able to accurately track my monthly cycles, because unlike when I was younger and could pinpoint my body's timeclock to the millisecond (every 28 days right on cue), now these visits are few and far between and I'm in that weird stage of "is this menopause or am I pregnant?"  Kinda like Blanche Devereaux from the Golden Girls.

And the fact that I'm even referencing the Golden Girls makes it pretty obvious to me which one it probably is.

In any event, as is often the case, this was really inconvenient timing on my body's part because I actually got to have a date night with the Rottenator this past Friday which in itself is a miracle (not unlike the miracle of childbirth, which is also painful and only occurs every 9 months).

We went to eat at Carrabba's which was fantastic, and saw the movie Brave, which was also enjoyable; surprisingly enough the Rottenator didn't hate it too much either.  And he let me refer to it as our "date night" which is something he NEVER does because in his mind "we're way past the dating stage".

Really?  Huh...cuz my thinking is that with a few more date nights and a bit more help around the house, perhaps I wouldn't be so fucking exhausted all the time and I would actually feel like going through the motions of practicing that people usually do in order to have a baby, and that might not be an issue that much longer anyway, so WTF, stop sitting on your ass playing online football all the time and perhaps get up and change a lightbulb for Christ's sake if you want a piece of this!

But I digress.  What I mean to say is that it's truly amazing the difference having two full-time incomes makes in determining someone's frame of mind.  Yeah, I know that money is not supposed to buy happiness, but NOT having money is a sure fire way to ensure a ton of stress and strain on an already volatile relationship, lemme tell ya.

Bottom line:  things are going very well for us right now, and I do thank the higher powers for that every day and I am appreciative and grateful even though I tend to bitch about everything.  But I wouldn't be me if I wasn't a bitch.

My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:

Quelle est cette chose appelée shopping?

So, yeah, I bought clothes yesterday!  Grown up professional clothes and shit.  Did I purchase any of the items above?  Of course not, don't be silly.  In fact, the lip purse itself was probably more than my entire allotted clothes buying budget.

 

Nevertheless, $75 later (including thrifted items from the Mother, Grandmother & the good folks at Goodwill with a side trip to Payless and the Wu-mart), check it, I have a brand new wardrobe that will last me at least two weeks of mixing and matching without too many repeats.

 

Do not mock the Goodwill, Payless, or the Wu-mart, thank you very much.  An extra bonus of being significantly smaller than I have been previously in life is that it opens up an WHOLE NEW WORLD (cue Ariel the Little Mermaid here) of clothing opportunities that I never previously knew existed.

 

I've always hated shopping...as one does when faced with the limited selection of muumuus and elastic waisted jorts that are available to encompass one's expanded girth. EXPENSIVE muumuus and jorts, I might add.  Talk about sticking it to the "healthy" girls: not only will we mock you by making impossibly hideous clothing that you will be forced to wear, we'll also make you pay out the ass for anything that doesn't make you look like Jabba.

However, being in the comfortable 12-16 size range, I can now find a pretty decent selection of slacks, skirts, and yes, even buttoned down shirts (gasp!) for cheap.  Cheap, cheap cheap, without looking it.

Example: I bought a pair of St. John gray dress slacks WITH the tag still on them for $1.75 at Goodwill.  Beat that, bitches.

They are currently between seasons at apparel stores, apparently (see what I did...nevermind), at least they are at Wal-mart, so a lot of their long sleeved but still lightweight shirts and sweaters are significantly reduced.  Seriously, 50-75% off.  I will be working in an air-conditioned environment, so needless to say, I benefited greatly from this; on average, my shirts cost between $5-$7 a piece.

This just made me realize that if Walmart was doing this then probably other stores, like Target or even (gasp!) Macy's or Nordstrom or Neiman-Marcus...dammit!  

Well, I'm not there financially (YET!) but that just gave me even MORE incentive to keep working on this body thing.  Because one day, oh, yes, I will have the $ to shop at high-end department stores.  And I will want to have the figure to continue to enjoy the wide selection of choices that will be available to me.

And I will still shop between seasons, because nothing excites me more than a bargain.  Only now, instead of putting my financial abilities to work at the grocery store...I shall apply them to refilling my wardrobe.

I'm already excited about shopping for upcoming birthdays and holidays.  I need to let my sister know to get her lists in order...though I'm sure her chirren already have gifts in mind.

 

How I'm feeling today:

This Body Knows the Trouble I've Seen

I've been overweight all of my life.  That may be an understatement, because truth be known, I've been fat all of my life.

I started life as a chubby baby and reached an all-time high of 280 lbs; this is me at my sister's wedding June 2000:

(Note: I am not the one in the wedding dress, the tux, or the gray haired lady on the left)

This is me about a year ago, at my current-ish weight of @ 160 lbs:

Despite that fact that my face is considerably older and more wrinkled, I am much happier with photo # 2, natch.

In Sep 2001, I had gastric bypass surgery.  Yes, while the world was watching the horrific events of Sep 11, I was doped up on Lortab on my couch getting pissed that the Food Network was off the air.  

Side note: I'm kinda happy I experienced all of that in a drug-induced daze the first time around, or I don't think I would have been able to process that emotion.  I still have a difficult time with it.

This is not to say that the gastric bypass was a phenomenal success, but that was of my own doing, or "not" doing as was the case.  See, my body has a miraculous ability to heal very quickly from any perceived trauma, which this surgery definitely was.  However, in this case, that ability worked against me in that I didn't experience a lot of the side effects of the surgery that would have been conducive to losing weight.  Which totally sucked at the time.

So, I gained all of the weight back through improper eating habits, and increased drinking habits.  This sucked.

In Jan 2010, I became deathly ill.  And when I say deathly, I mean, literally.  I had a bleeding ulcer that went unnoticed and untreated by me, and it landed me in the ICU for about two weeks.

This sucked as well.  However, it was at this point that my body and its miraculous healing abilities was appreciated by me, whereas before, it had not been.  My body not only saw me through that recovery, it actually made me healthier than I've ever been before.  And for that, I am grateful.

I lost the weight again, and am at a point now, where my weight is stabilized at @ 160, which may sound horrible to some of you but for a former fattie, it's incredible.  Especially being that I can wear "normal" sized clothes instead of shopping at specialty stores, and I can eat whatever I want.  You see, the original surgery I had almost 12 years ago did leave me with a permanently smaller stomach, and even though I managed to stretch it out over the ensuing years, ever since my illness, it has shrunken again, and now I can't physically eat as much as I used to, even though I try.  Oh yes, I fight it, and I do try.  Unfortunately.

This time around, at the age of 40, losing weight by any means is not my top priority any more.  Another thing that my illness has done for me is made me appreciate how much better it is to FEEL good as opposed to LOOK good.  I want to be healthy.  I want to wake up in the morning, not feeling sluggish and exhausted and hung over and dehydrated, but I want to feel a strength and a grace in my body that only comes with good nutrition and exercise.

So, here I am.  The good thing about doing this at 40 is that I have lost some of that narcissistic perfection that girls look for in their 20s.  My body will never be perfect. I will always have sagging skin, stretch marks, wrinkles, scars, gray hair, and a paunch.

But that doesn't mean that I can't be healthy, and that doesn't mean that I can't strive to look the best I can, and decrease these perceived imperfections as much as I can.  I can color my hair, and I can tone my body, and even lose some of this paunch.  Which is what my main focus is going to be.

As I written before, my life is in a holding pattern at the moment.  I am waiting to hear if I have a new job.  This has been an ongoing, stressful, frustrating, two month period of my life where I have eaten and smoked myself into oblivion.  Any day now, I am waiting for this to change.  I'm in the final stretch, and this is the most difficult part.

The reason I mention this is because with this new job comes new fundage, which, if put to the proper use, will change my life dramatically for the better.  Right now, I'm not in a financial position to eat the healthiest foods, or work out at the gym, or go to the doctor to get a physical, or spend one extra cent on anything that is not an immediate necessity, you know, like electricity, water, gas, internet (god damn right I said it: internet!)

The positive aspect of this is that unlike before, where the prospect of more $ meant "who hoo, let's go out and tie one on, celebrate, homie!", it now means "OMG, I can buy organic, whole grain, free range shit and join the Y!"

That part of getting old I don't mind.

For some reason, I keep trying to find a focus, a certain point of my blog, to tie it up into one neat, easily classified category.  Will it be a foodie blog, a lifestyle blog, a recovery blog, a humor blog?  

I guess in the end, it will be about all of those things, because basically, it is my online, public diary.  And I even titled the damn thing "All About Me" so fuck it, that's what it's going to be.

When Outback Gives You Sirloin...

Hypothetical scenario:

You get a coupon in your email for Outback that says "Buy One, Get One Free Ribeye Dinner" (see, that's how you know this is hypothetical because Outback would never do that) and you're like, "Sweet!" and you get all fancied up in your Sunday best and you head on out to the Outback.

Then you get there, and the whole way, you can taste that flame broiled ribeye, because that is some good shit, pornorifically delicious some might say, and the waiter says, "Oh, I'm sorry.  We're all out of the ribeyes, but we can give you the same deal on our sirloin instead"...

Well...that's disappointing; heartbreaking some might say.  I mean, yeah, sure, on any other given day, you'd be damn happy for that sirloin, because it's not a bad deal, and hey, it is still Outback, and you can still get a bloomin' onion, but still...you saw that coupon for the ribeye, and you got your hopes all up, and you're tasting that shit.

You wish you'd never seen that coupon at all.  I mean, life would have been perfectly fine if you'd never even knew that coupon existed, you would be grateful for that fucking little dried up hunk of tough sirloin.

But still...now that you know what you could have had but you missed out on, it's damn near impossible not to choke on that sirloin but you accept the deal begrudgingly because, hey.  It's better than hamburger helper, right?  Absolutely acceptable, and it fulfills all of your requirements for a perfectly adequate meal.  And you still get that bloomin' onion, so it's not that bad.

So you should be grateful for that fucking sirloin and not whine about the ribeye that you missed out on because it was never promised to you in the first place.

Still...I hate it when that happens.  My resolution is to try to be one of those people who's grateful for the god damned hamburger helper and stop obsessing about the fucking ribeye that I think I deserve.

Because there are people who feel blessed to even have the helper part, nevermind the hamburger.

I need to be okay with being an Eddie, and get over trying to be a Clark.

Hot Tottie

So, I like to think I'm pretty handy in the kitchen.  I've been known to whip together a gourmet holiday meal or two in my day (individual beef wellingtons with Gorgonzola and Madeira mushrooms?  Why, yes, I'll have those for you momentarily).

However, due to current budgetary restraints and the fact that I'm living with someone whose tastebuds have not developed past a 8 year old's level, I find myself struggling, awash in very simplistic, cheap easy meals.

And I'm not knocking it whatsoever.  In fact, I'm finding these meals quite comforting and gratifying.  Even delicious, if I do say so myself.

Thanks to Pinterest, I have recreated such instant classics as "pizza casserole", "copycat Outback Alice Springs Chicken" and "Chicken Pepperoni" and I declare them all "the bomb" as the kids like to say.  And since they've all been given two thumbs up by tasters with discriminating palates, I've decided to volunteer my own cheap, easy and quick (that's what she said) dish prepared just last night, and cultivated from a variety of recipes found across the world wide web.

Behold: the Chili Cheese Tater Tot Casserole:

(before)

Ingredients:

1 lb. ground beef

1 med sweet white onion, chopped

1 15 oz can ranch beans, undrained

1 14.5 oz can chili style diced tomatoes*, undrained

1 packet chili seasoning (your choice, I used McCormick's regular, because we don't like it too hot, but do like a bit of spice)

4 cups Mexican-spiced shredded cheese* (16 oz pkg)

1 2 lb bag tater-tots (you will have some left over)

Preheat oven to 350°.  Grease a 9x11" casserole dish with non-stick spray, or butter, margarine, oil, whatever.

Brown ground beef and onions together in a skillet until beef is no longer pink and onions are soft.  Drain.  While meat is draining, add tomatoes, beans and seasoning packet to skillet and stir together.  Add beef/onion mixture & give a couple more stirs til all is blended. At this point, the chili may appear very thick and you may feel the urge to add water to loosen it up, but resist that urge!  It's going to loosen up quite nicely in the oven.

Pour chili into greased casserole dish.  Add 2 cups (half the package) of cheese on top.  Layer frozen tots on top of cheese (like I did in the pic up there; isn't it cute and all neat and pretty)?

Cook uncovered in oven for 30 minutes.  After 30 min, sprinkle remaining cheese on top of tots and continue baking for 5 min more, or until cheese gets nice and melty.

Let stand 5 min at room temp before serving, then voila!  

(after, not as neat & pretty but damn tasty)

A hearty, tasty, and not necessarily healthy but generously portioned meal for four.  You could serve with a nice salad as a side if you want to appear to be fancy and healthy, or you could just enjoy a big bowlful of this and finish it with Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra for dessert if you want to throw caution to the wind and really wreck your diet.  Your choice.

*Note: I used the store brand version of these ingredients (what up, Kroger!) and they worked great for this...