depression limbo

How do you make yourself feel better when you realize you have gained even MORE weight? Making you absolutely the most revolting tub-of-lard chubbiest person ever? You eat. 3 cans of Pringles. Some peanuts. Honey mustard pretzels. Approximately 4,160 calories worth- in.one.sitting. While sobbing about being atrociously fat and repulsively ugly. And really if I wasn’t repulsive before. Just picture it. Crying, while stuffing my face with chips. Exclaiming “why.am.sob.I.so.sob.fat!.chips falling out of mouth.I.don’t.deserve. sob, wiping away tears and what I thought was snot – but ended-up being chip pieces.this. My life.sucks. How.do.I.sob.fix.it?.” Oh, the irony.

Muse Von Wrinkle

I am very upset, apparently sleeping causes wrinkles. I have been sleeping better (thanks Monavie!*), however I am aghast at the wrinkle/ impression lines emerging on my face from this nightly event. The same ones are there every morning, same side of my face – by my nose and under my eye. It gets better as the day goes on but never fully goes away. It is getting deeper ever morning and can be seen more clearly as the day goes on now. I think this atrocity is creeping onto the other side of my face now. I even have a silky-ish pillow case. Damn, this is really upsetting. First the deepening of the expression lines on my forehead and now this.

adding insult to injury

It must be…..National ‘Hey, you’re FUCKING infertile. You are a broken piece-of-womanhood. You bring shame to us all. Ha ha-you can’t be in our club’ Day!

First: I had to wait an eternity 14 minutes this am at the Vet’s office (getting some pills for the adorable pup-a-lup) where I was forced to mildly participated/listen to a conversation that went something like this:

Vet Nurse: Oh, I am so excited, Mary Sue Pregnant is finding out the sex of her baby today.

Me: That’s great

Vet Nurse: yeah, she wasn’t even trying, seeing as she has a 9 month old at home.

Me: uh-huh

from needles to knives

Okay, scalpels, but knives sound so much better….yeah.

So, ‘exploratory’ surgery (Laparoscopy, HSG, uterine suspension, cleaning out junk, new paint job, oil change….you get the point) is scheduled for Friday, June 6. Whoopie. More scars. Now I will be even more repulsive. My poor hubbie. Not even sure why he is with me.

Weird thing, I am kinda excited to find out what is wrong, I am also scared. I am also not sure I can handle more scars. I really wish I had the money to fix the ones I have, but then again I wish I had the money to fix a lot of things. I better just not start down that road.

Kind of a depressing read, sorry about that.

I plan on blogging later on how I am bringin sexy back – back in to my life.

I would have told you one of the oh-so-fascinating, edge-of your-seat, tangies from Reader’s Choice, but since nobody even voted (sucking.back.the.tears.nobody.likes.me.gonna.go.eat.worms.) you are all being punished and now you will be starved of all the useful knowledge and exciting,riveting stimuli!!!

pity-party

I really must be blogging for myself. I know I fell off the diet-wagon, the blogging-wagon and the sanity-wagon (err, um, actually I never got on that ride). I know I only had two-ish measly (but totally awesome, dude!) readers to begin with. However, it doesn’t make it any less sad that now, apparently nobody reads my blog.

I know I have begged before, but really, I have no ‘filter’ (brain spurts out stuff, nobody there to edit. Even if there was, I would shoot the editor and tell anyways) or shame (I wear jeans with a hole in the crotch. CROTCH I tell you, because they are they only pants that fit me – and as I was telling Stabby recently, they only fit me because I have a hole – in the crotch!!!!!!), so I will beg again.

Please, please like me. Come on, read my blog! It may not be funny, entertaining, relevant or enlighting, but um, um,…shit. I see why nobody reads my blog.

Crap-ola, well I guess that settles it. Off to get balloons for my pity-party of one. Absolutely no cake. I swear.

Reader’s choice

Thank you for subscribing to my newsletter. I question your sanity by making this choice, dear reader, but I do applaud your courage as you once again embark on the journey to crazy town. Wow, I am such a geek. Or is it dork, I know not dweeb. I think geek. I am making geeky sexy, damn it! Oh lordy, I am even embarrassed of myself, for myself. And we digress…..surprise, surprise.

So many tangies running through my head ( you think I would be used to this by now, since it has been like this my entire life, 24 hours*/day).

• Should we discuss how once again, I am back starting a diet……. A clear violation of “codes to a better life”?

• Should we discuss how I should write…..”codes to a better life”?

• Should we discuss how my newly decided ( for the umpteenth time….) spending less time at work/with work ruling my life is making me feel guilty (even though work can’t leave this life with me and I need/deserve to de-stress and other’s put their lives/family first and I don’t…hum, seems I have started discussing it) ? Plus, I believe it is making the students/part-time help at work think I am lazy and … oh, crapola – you get the point.

Miss Slothy 2008

I am the not-so-proud owner of stubbly jiggles. I have become too fat and slothy to shave. I am the epitome of slothification. I don’t take care of myself. If I put on concealer (my form of makeup since at some point I must have had an amnesic-inducing intervention about my lipgloss habit, because it is gone. Damn, I want it back. So sad, I want BACK an addiction. Weirdo), it is after I get to work. I wear the same dirty, holey, ugly, ill fitting t-shirt to bed every night. I wouldn’t want to kiss me, let alone anything else, my poor hubby. No wonder no baby wants to come into our lives. I am pathetic.  I never do my hair, I didn’t even do it for my dad’s wedding. Not that what I looked like mattered considering all of the whale, pig, fatty comments that came from my family (not an exaggeration,seriously, it was so so sad).

$4,564.93

out-of-pocket expenses to try to have a baby. Blood test results today, not pregnant. Seriously might have to leave job to get one with better insurance coverage for infertility because the next step is surgery and after that is IVF at $40,000 a pop, or something outrages like that. Not that leaving work isn’t a bad idea anyways, go were I am appreciated, blah blah blah. Never happen. Damn, I am a little disappointed, not that I put a lot of stock in the whole ovulation induction thing working out with the follicles refusing to either (a) let the drug affect them AT ALL,  (b) they ALL drink the damn-expensive-liquid-gold-drug where there isn’t just one or two that get large like is hoped so I can’t continue because I would get OHSS (ovarian hyper-stimulation syndrome=bad) and have too many eggs (multiples, multiples, multiples). Guess no one can ever complain that I am not a sharer. I share!!! Hell, my follicles even share. Damn you guys! Can’t one of you just take the reins and decide to be the leader? Or better yet, screw the whole afraid of multiple things and all of you just soak up the drug! Roll in in, bath in it, you deserve it! Just get big enough to be viable for crying-out-loud! After that, fertilize, then release and implant damn you!!!! You are eggs. It is your job. Be adventurous! Go on explore the outside, try out the uterus, I hear it is nice there! Warm and comfy. Like a spa!

I am so bitter.

liar, liar, pants on fire.

Yeah, I suck. I haven’t posted. I haven’t caught up. I haven’t got back on track with calories or excersice. I still don’t want to quit, I still want to contiune with this stuff. I like blogging, but the next couple of days will be hell and then I will be away for my dad’s wedding. Since my only readers, that I know about, are RLFs I have/can catch you up in person. So, that will have to do, for now. I don’t want to quit. My mouth has had most of the attention my entire life, my fingers deserve an audience too, damn it. I will pull it together, for the little guys, the chubby, short and squaty, “princess little hands” that is! Seriously people, my hands are really not proportional to the rest of my body – well, not that any of that is proportionate anymore!. However, I will prevail! The fingers will do the talking around here, soon…..I promise!

catch-up or quit?

Hello everyone; the readers and RLFs I know about plus the new comers who have been reading. Welcome! Drop me a comment, it can be anonymous . My dear, dear apologizes to the person who found my blog by typing in “really bad puns”. I am unfortunately afraid there will be more in the future. I can’t help it, seriously I have tried. It just happens.

Okay, I can’t even write happily today. I have not been feeling the best and I am upset about something which happened earlier today (the matter is contained in the previous post that I will probably let out in the future). I feel like a failure. I knew I shouldn’t have been blogging. I can’t keep up with this. I haven’t kept up with calories. I haven’t been walking. I want to leave work so I can have a fresh start, with new people. Some place where I can feel like the nice person I used to be. Somewhere that I am not gossiped about. I am now guilty of gossiping/venting as well (which I mainly only talk about 1-2 people,but it is still wrong)*. Somewhere that I can find a better niche** for myself and/or possibly earn some respect. I am just the laughing stock of where I am now. Hell, I even want to burn down my house. So much easier that trying to pick up after it, so many things need to be done, cleaned etc. There is just not the time or the money.