Don't you hate the days when you have to keep reminding yourself of that?

Yeah, sure the restaurant doesn't open for lunch until 10:30 am because they don't like YOU. Or just how reasonable is it for someone to believe that her hedgehog had cancer in every organ of her tiny body because she didn't clean the hedgehog cage often enough? NOT VERY.

My parents and sister have an old joke with me from my particularly neurotic and self-involved (prediagnosis) days where we were watching Ordinary People and Mary Tyler Moore's character, a clearly insane soulless bitter woman who has no love left for her husband or her remaining son, has been sent away. And the poor remaining son asks his Dad, "It's me, isn't it?" Well, NO, it's not. It's HER not you, poor little teenaged Timothy Hutton. Your mom has ISSUES that have nothing to do with you honey. But that's the joke, see?

Smith's no longer sells my favorite "Four Red Fruits" tea... "It's me, isn't it?" Someone had a bad day at work? "It's me, isn't it?" The Drag Queen Grover Yarn hasn't sold yet (even though almost everything else I've put up for sale has and I should be happy and flattered about that) "It's me, isn't it?" Etc. Ad nauseum.

It's a joke and while intellectually I know how ridiculous it all is, sometimes I have to convince myself that it's not me.

It's a windy and warm dusty spring day in New Mexico today. And yet again I'm doing my best to assume that it's not all my fault. That I'm not the center of the universe or responsible for other people's actions. Just my own.

I did take the photos of my Noro yarn on Sunday just as I'd promised. I'm just not sure where I put my camera after that. It's around here somewhere..

We might have to go to a funeral this weekend. One of Cody's cousins died. No one's sure what caused his death but he was only 35. Apparently he had a pretty terrible life, extremely unsupportive parents, I've heard he was functionally illiterate and had some fairly serious learning disabilities as well as a history of drug abuse. The general feeling from the family is that he's in a better place. I've never met this cousin. This is the side of Cody's family that just wasn't around.. I think there were maybe two from this side at the wedding. And there seems to be a good reason for that as I've heard some pretty bad stories about how they would take advantage of others, scam them out of money or just leave their children with people while still taking the money from the government that was supposed to help the children.

But to be honest I'm sure there was more to the story. This family can be very small-minded about things sometimes and while they're not the best at practicing empathy they can sometimes expect a pretty good deal of it for their situations. They're Republicans. Not everything is about me, I'm not responsible for everything.

Instead of flowers or anything we've been told to send money to the widow - his second wife that's the mother of one of his children, although they were taking care of a few from his first wife as well I've been told they'll probably go with their mother now. We'll probably send a money order. It seems that the wife is probably not entirely ok either. I suggested a wal mart or smith's grocery card to be sure the money went to food or something useful but it seems a money order is for the best. Not everything is about me, I'm not responsible for everything.

I'll also be sending a donation to the American Diabetes Association in memory of my sister's father-in-law who passed away last week. It's my understanding that he's probably in a better place as well. I don't believe in heaven or hell really. I never met this person either but this family also seems to be fairly complicated and it's best for me to offer my sister support and stay out of it. I will make my donation and send my condolences. Not everything is about me, I'm not responsible for everything.

Ten more days (well really, eleven) until the end of the fiber diet. And my fantasy shopping list is growing. Some of these yarns have been patiently waiting for me for a long time. I keep expecting them to sell but they haven't yet which, since everything is about me, means they're waiting just for me.

Amber's Carrot Cake Yarn was a featured item on Etsy a few months ago and STILL didn't sell! I've been watching and waiting. It looks so yummy. I love carrot cake. And I keep thinking what a great April Project Spectrum yarn this is!

Midnight Sky's Bubble Tea Yarn I swear this has been around since I first found Etsy last summer even though it seems to have been relisted in January. I can't believe this hasn't been bought. Mmm Bubble Tea.

And Natasha's Bloo SlushPuppie in the Sand. Preeety Colors. I love slush puppies. I have a fresh fruit lime slush waiting for me in the fridge. I should wrap up this post to go lie under the ceiling fan and drink it.

In non food-related yarn desire, I've been eyeing Angela's Manly Stripes. It's so hard to find good yarn a guy would be willing to wear that doesn't make me fall asleep.

I'm learning that 3/4 of the creativity is the spinning, 1/4 is the naming of the yarn.

And I want to join Mama-E's PS sockyarn club.
And there's all that new koigu at Village.

What's that? Not all of this yarn is about me?

I didn't finish le Clap Sunday night. Or last night for that matter. On Sunday I got lazy and forgot to finish the last few rows of Section 3 before starting Section 4 and had to tink back to fix it. I was also easily distracted by the shiny email box and cleaned the bathroom. That, in itself, warrants a holiday.

Last night I made some progress. Amidst a scary PMS meltdown wherein the world is very lucky I didn't have access to "the red button." Did you feel the earth shudder with relief at around 10:30 last night? Yeah, sorry that was me. Anything and everything was getting on my nerves last night. DAMMIT why are they showing this stupid skiing stuff don't they know I want to watch the tacky ice dancers? Oh noooo I'm out of diet cokes. But I don't waaanna go in the dentist tomorrow. How dare that person say that about my adopted home state?!? If they don't like it they should leave! Fie! Fie I say! Yeah, it was bad. And scary. A few decent meals and lots of sleep later I'm doing much better today.

I'm making progress on the clap though. About to do the sixth repeat of Section 4, then that half-repeat, then I'm on the home stretch. It's conceivable that I'll finish it tonight at Knit and Kvetch but I don't want to jinx myself again.

If you guys would just stop posting in your blogs I'd get bored and go knit. Or stop posting insane completely fascinating stuff like this. Thanks to that site I've actually started reading and knitting at the same time.

Beverly has proposed that we pick up and try to finish our old moldy projects during Lent. Which is odd because, not being one who really observes Lent, I'd already thought that might be a good period of time to try a committed yarn diet. It's short enough where I won't go insane but long enough where I might stop the compulsive shopping. Thus the yarn photos. I'm trying to remember and appreciate what I have. But I'll definitely pick up my pumpkin patch shawl. It's close to done and I'm sad that I had to put it down to start the Giftmas knitting. And I might even start working on that damn baby sweater. I'd overestimated the size enough such that the cutieniece will probably still fit into it.

So. We're going to Village Wools on Friday as planned to buy some yarn and stuff. They were broken into last weekend and everyone's trying to help them out so they can fix their ceiling and still be able to move to their new place in May. I'm going to buy this as well. Light-sensitive glow in the dark yarn. Holy shizzle fizzle. That's right it's so incredible I reverted to Snoop Dog Speak rather than outright cussing- also rare enough to warrant a holiday. Reenie was generous enough to put it on hold for me until Friday. She. Rocks.

In other news I've been drinking an Odwalla smoothie every day and all the pets are just fine. Everyone was on the bed in a big pile earlier. I am going to go warm my feet in a big hot bath now. And have a snack. Mm hummus.

Been having a bad time today. Tired, depressed, annoyed with people. Judgemental, sanctimonious, mendacious, greedy, mean, vapid, and outright disgusting people. And we're waiting for the results on Zola's autopsy.

While I was writing this post I got a call from the vet. Preliminary tests say it wasn't WHS but she had lesions on all her organs, the least affected was her brain. This came as a surprise to everyone. They're going to send more in-depth pathology reports (or something like that) to see if it was cancer (the doctor says this is more likely) or a really really bad infection (which really would've shown signs much earlier). They're sending her little body to be cremated now. Next week we'll know more.

If it turns out to have been an infection I'm fairly sure I'll freak way the fuck out. Which leads perfectly to the rest of the post which I'd mostly written before the call.

I'm going back and forth over whether or not to get another hedgehog. My parents have already put in their vote which wasn't a surprise. They don't "get" pets. And that's fine. A lot of people don't really see the point of putting time, money, and food into something that essentially shits it out again. They can be expensive, demanding, and make all kinds of messes.

But they also don't care which end of the weight-diet-weight cycle I'm on, or if I don't feel like washing my hair, or care what kind of clothes I'm wearing. They're good at keeping me warm when it gets cold and several times a day I get to see tiny sleeping faces that make me happy. There is always someone in this household wanting to show that they love me which might seem a bit crazy but having it works wonders on depressives like me. Also we can leave the pets at home when we want to go out without anyone calling child protective services.

Another hedgehog. I'm not hesistant because I'm worried this would be a "replacement" or that I would hate to lose another one. Mostly it's because I don't feel like I gave Zola enough care. Nonono don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming myself for her getting sick, I know it was genetic, and she led a very happy, warm, cared-for life. But I don't feel like I took her out of her cage often enough, or bathed her, trimmed her nails, or changed her bedding often enough. She wasn't growing mold or becoming a scary clawed hedgehog I just have a fairly high standard with pet care and feel like I fell short. So I might wait a while. Ask me how I feel I'm not up to par with the dog and cats sometime. I realize that I will always have criticisms about it.

This may sound morbid but I know Kurry won't be around too much longer. She's roughly eighteen years old I'm not kidding myself. Luckily she's in excellent shape and her annual senior workup always comes in with perfect results. Maybe that ol gal will just keep hanging on. And I love that, and her. She still gives what-for to our ninety-seven pounds of love dog. That's pretty impressive.

We had a creepy encounter last night. Cody was shaking one of the dry feeders for the cats with the science diet sensitive stomach food - to my complete chagrin that's the only dry food they'll eat. The other one hasn't been touched in months. We keep trying out different foods but that's the only one they touch. Anyway, something weird came out of the bin into the dish. He wasn't sure what it was but he's not the regular food regulator so he just assumed it was a twig with leaves or something and put it aside. I went into the bathroom later and wondered wtf that was on the floor. It looked like maybe a large old hairball but since this is *my* bathroom it hadn't been there that long. I went over and picked it up with one of the kitty's wet food plates. I kept thinking it was a hairball with yarn or something (which, in itself, would be weird they barely notice the yarn these days) but it was really dry so I knew it wasn't recent. I picked it up then noticed it looked sort of like a squashed dried lizard, squeaked and dropped it. Then I asked Cody to come into the bathroom to look at something. Naturally he gets freaked out because I sound scared and hurries in. I asked him if he knew what that was. He picks it up and looks at it again. Then says "Oh I know what that is and hurries out with it." Ok yeah it was something dead wasn't it?

And indeed it was. It was the mummified remains of half a mouse. In my cats' food - in a closed feeder bin which I had filled directly from the sealed bag of food last week. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew EW. There were no holes in the bag at the bottom - and being half a mouse it couldn't have gone in there, died, then cut itself in half. The cats certainly wouldn't have put a mouse they killed inside their bag of food. And since they're indoor cats they've never had the opportunity to kill a mouse anyway. So. I'm quite freaked out, I'm definitely over my quota of seeing dead animals. There has been much bleaching, antibacterial soap use, and drafting of a stern letter to Hill's going on. I'm terrified of running into the other half sometime so I think Cody will be in charge of the dry food for a little while.

Bleeeeeah.

Rather than making the usual mondo-jumbled posts I usually end up making I'm going to divide up what I want to write about. So there's more to come.

The National Mental Health Association has designated October 6th as National Depression Screening Day.

Not everyone has depression. Not everyone who has depression needs medication. But for some people it's a great relief to know that the crazy shit that pops into their heads sometimes might actually be a mental illness that can be treated in one way or another, no matter what Tom Cruise has to say about it.

It is a real disease not just a figment of some shrink or pharmaceutical company's imagination or a lazy housewife's excuse to stay in bed. Anyone who has lived with it or loved someone who is living with depression can tell you this. I'm not trying to make everyone think they have depression, I'm just trying to help the few people who may be having problems and might finally have a reason to find help in whatever way they think would work for them.

Think you might have depression? This is a common questionnaire doctors use to screen for it.

Over the past two weeks, I have felt low in energy, and not very interested in my daily activities.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have been blaming myself for things.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have a reduced ability to enjoy myself.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have had a change - increase or decrease -- in my sleeping habits or appetite.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have been feeling hopeless about the future.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have had difficulty in concentrating; indecisiveness; and slowed or fuzzy thinking.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have been feeling particularly sad, hopeless, or anxious.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have been feeling worthless.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have been feeling like there is little pleasure In my life.
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

Over the past two weeks, I have had thoughts about death or suicide. (PLEASE NOTE: If you are feeling suicidal, PLEASE contact your physician, a mental health professional, or contact a Crisis Center or hotline in your area
5 Very Frequently
4 Frequently
3 Sometimes
2 A Few Times
1 Rarely

A score under 20 is the least likely to point to clinical depression or a depressive episode, 21-35 means depression is likely, over 36 means depression is very likely. This test is not designed to make a diagnosis of depression or take the place of a professional diagnosis, but may give you some insights.

Why the frequent use of the term over the last two weeks? Because the standard definition of clinical depression is if depressive symptoms last for two weeks or more or affect one's ability to function in daily life.

If you think you might have depression, call a local mental health facility or crisis center, your doctor or nurse practioner, or your insurance company's behavioral health department.

Two days in a row of public events with lots of other people and plenty of walking. It will take days to recover. We went to the zoo this evening. There was a City of Albuquerque thing going on for all the workers and their families. Since both Cody's parents work for the city they invited us to go. There were so so SO many people there. Apparently the city has 6000 workers. Add a spouse and a few rugrats and that's a whole lot of people to squeal loudly and invade my personal germaphobic space while I look at the incredibly cool porcupine with the prehensile tail.

I've wanted to go to the Zoo since we've moved here because I've heard it's pretty nice. And what I saw of it supports that. I'd compare it with the Taronga Zoo in Sydney. But I've only been to three zoos as far as I can remember: Birmingham, Memphis, and Sydney; so I'm not exactly an expert on zoos.

Well I didn't see all of it today because we didn't get to go until 5:30 and most of our time was spent eating a free hot dog and waiting in line for the little zoo train. I usually love zoo trains and have many fond memories of riding the one at the Birmingham Zoo. The one here in Abq is fairly new and mostly shows the back of the exhibits and the work in progress on the train that will be going from the Zoo to the Aquarium. But since it was free today we got our money's worth.

It got dark fairly early too and since it usually closes at five they don't have the place very well lit. So we mostly got to see the indoor exhibits. But Cody's dad has some freebie tickets from something else so we're going to go back in a month or so.

Since it got dark and it was pretty overcast today anyway I didn't get very many photos.

There are some great rescue stories about aquarium animals displaced by Katrina. And being fostered at different zoos.

I've read a few interesting posts on other weblogs today. And while I'm sorry to read about anyone having a bad time in their heads it is encouraging to see folks get a better understanding of what it's like to have depression because I know for a lot of people it's very hard to understand. They honestly just don't know why people with depression can't "just cheer up." And to a certain extent I can understand why they feel that way.

This is the best way I've been able to describe depression: Imagine having a crazy mean old aunt who is always saying bad stuff about you, what you look like, and everything you do. You can't do, say, wear, make, or cook anything that satisfies her - there will always be something wrong with it and she will voice her objections loudly and in the meanest most painful, hurtful way she possibly can. She's also really good at dredging up stupid things you've said and done many years ago and nagging you about them. Or the mean things other people may or may not have said about or done to you in your lifetime.

Ok, imagine if that aunt spoke using your own voice. And she lived in your own head. And every day you had to keep telling that mean aunt voice in your head that she should just shut the fuck up. While trying to keep a "proper" sense of self-awareness and reality because the worst part is sometimes that goddamned mean old aunt voice is right and your food sucks or you really shouldn't be wearing that shirt out in public.

This kind of internal struggle is very, very tiring. It makes building enough energy to get off the sofa very hard sometimes. Especially when the aunt is telling you that there's no point in moving your big lazy ass (which keeps on spreading by the way) because whatever you're getting up to do, you'll just mess it up anyway. Arguments are tiring, imagine having them with yourself all the time every day.

Bear in mind I'm talking about clinical not situational depression, which is a valid form of depression, of course, but situational depression usually goes away sometime (but it might be a long time) after the situation that triggered it. Clinical depression usually doesn't. Situational depression is easier for most people to understand. It's perfectly normal to be depressed over the loss of a parent, an ugly divorce, losing everything you own or people you love because of a natural catastrophe. It's not as easy to understand being depressed for no tangible reason. But worse things happening to other people doesn't mean that your pain and depression isn't valid. It's not a contest. No one wins the big righteous depression prize.

People deal with the depression in different ways: some get defensive and feel the need to make everyone else just as unhappy as they are, others want to go to bed for about a year or stay in the house all the time because the voice tells them they're not worthy of human company, or maybe they just seem like sleepy or angry misanthropes. Some people do them all and more, depending on the time of day or general temperature. A lot self-medicate with food, alcohol, drugs, shopping, or pet or object hoarding which is a whole new fun thing for the aunt voice to bitch about - creating an amusing self-destructive cycle.

For some people the antidepressant medication is neccesary. It doesn't exactly mute the aunt entirely but it distracts her a good deal. And her mean comments don't sting quite as much when she does make them. For some people its like a miracle when the meds work. For others its creepy to be so numb and they try to control it with physical or psyhciatric therapy. My feeling is that the meds make me able to get off the sofa and go out into the world. I still can't drive but that's not exactly the aunt that's something else.

Like I said it's kind of neat to see other people get a better understanding of what this is like. Not that I wish these kinds of feelings on anyone. Oh god no. It's just comforting to see more people get a better perspective on something that's a horrible condition to have anyway that gets magnified when people don't understand and tell you to "just cheer up."

I'm probably oversensitive when it comes to comments about race and weight. I'm a fat white girl from Birmingham with a hell of a guilt complex it's just going to happen.

And I wonder sometimes why its unacceptable to make sweeping generalizations about a race, culture, or ethnicity when a whole hell of a lot of assumptions are made about people with weight issues. Not to say they don't need to work on the issues but there might be some shit going on that you have no fucking idea about and you can count your lucky stars that you don't have to deal with yourself. I do my best to not get too touchy when I feel like skinny women might be insinuating that they're somehow morally superior to me because their problems are less physically obvious. I've been wrestling with these issues for a long time and I have my good and bad days with it. Women tend to be self-critical though and while they're thinking it about themselves they don't neccesarily mean it about you. But even if they're not talking about me it can still be kind of offensive.

Last night at a small party I heard a story about an overweight stewardess who apparently had some..issues. But the fact that there might be an actual blood sugar problem (which is what some of her behavior sounded like) didn't seem to matter much. She was just a crazy fat chick. I dunno, this was told by a flight attendant for an airline I didn't like to fly on anyway - particularly since they've invoked the two seat rule and the few times I've watched the reality show I haven't really felt much better about giving them my money. But yeah I was getting the feeling that somehow she thought she was a better person because she's never had to worry about her weight (the comment about the woman being 250 pounds and not being able to make it down the aisle made me extremely sad), even if she wasn't saying it about me it included me. And somehow it was ok for her to say those things while we tut-tutted about people who say generally bad things about Hispanics.

It was just a bad ten minutes in what was otherwise a wonderful evening but those mean voices in my head..this is the kind of stuff they thrive on.

I've been thinking about it this morning though and had pretty much decided that those stupid after school specials about being pretty on the inside were right. Then I ran across this post and experienced retort envy.

And I thought about a short conversation Cody and I had this morning while watching Marty about how the feminist movement has talked a lot about women being held back by men but a lot of the time it's the women doing a lot of the holding. And it is true. We can be meaner about each other than than any guy because we know just what hurts the worst. And what's to gain from that short moment of smug superiority?

No big deal really I've just been thinking about it today.

Due to various situational and health circumstances I'm in a dangerously bad mood. It seems that early thirties (probably perimenopausal) premenstrual hormone fluctuations combine very very badly with clinical depression resulting in blinding bombs of depressive episodes that can only be assuaged with eating everything I can find in the house and thinking very bad thoughts while I knit and watch tv. Or going on shopping sprees but we spent all our discretionary funds on the bed.

If the quackass doctor at Pres hadn't been such an asshole about prescribing two antidepressants at once this might not be as bad. I found out that this guy just doesn't seem to know shit about depression, eating disorders (yes food addiction is an eating disorder stfu), or antidepressants - fucker made me take a QUIZ to decide if I had symptoms for depression..well I can assure you that twelve years after my initial diagnosis that I'M STILL NOT CURED MUTHERFUCKER. God I hate GPs they can be such clinical assmonkeys with a complete lack of understanding of people who can't control every aspect of their lives like they can. I've been the friend of many doctor's children, believe me most are scary controlling tightasses.

He actually said to me: "There is no pill that helps with weight loss." And if I were more conscious and hadn't been fasting for blood tests that early morning I would've been quick enough to answer "No, but the pills that keep me from having depressive episodes where I self-medicate with mashed potatoes and french fries SURE DO HELP."

Zoloft is good. But it seems that regular seratonin levels aren't the only solution for my problem - aside from the more obvious synthetic thyroid hormone replacements I have to take. The dopamine helps too. Together Zoloft and Wellbutrin are like the wonder twins for my brain. These wonder twins activate into the form of a big warm bubbly bath and a huge bowl of buttery mashed potatoes.

I know a lot of people disapprove of, or make a lot of assumptions about, antidepressants. For me, they make it possible to function without scary rage followed by crying jags. For my husband, they make it possible for him to have a coherent conversation without scary jumps in thought process and internal second-guessing.

Maybe you have never been close to someone who needed medication to live - say, a person with diabetes or a condition that causes seizures. But I can assure you that these aren't just "happy mother's little helper pills" that we take in order to become the Stepford Couple. Without them we both will separately start to contemplate the neatest and most painless form of suicide where life insurance would still be paid out. What keeps us alive without medication is the thought of how badly one would hurt the other by leaving them.

So you can shove your assumptions and prejudices about antidepressants right up your ass.

And back to the United healthcare roulette I go trying to find a doctor I don't want to punch in the head, wondering just how much it would cost if I went back to that nurse practitioner I liked so much when we were with Lovelace.

In other news I started a private password-protected mt journal to get my more personal stuff out. Things I was afraid to post here and I'm not talking contact or credit card information here. If you're wondering right now, yeah, it probably was about you once or twice. Which is why it's private. Because it seems really wrong to air my personal stuff with another person right on a website like this. And I'm not always sure (with a few exceptions) if it's me being crazy and depressed or an actual issue.

So hopefully that'll help exorcise some demons for me.

Today did not start off well. I fall asleep with the tv on and don't like to use the sleep button so sometimes I wake up to very strange shit. This morning it was the last ten minutes of Last of the Mohicans.

Then I had to call a customer service phone line for our credit card and was being bandied about between two 800 numbers like a friggin pingpong ball. Believe me, I've worked call center jobs I know this drill. They pull up your screen of information and think "Oh Goodie I can't help them! Where's that 800 number I can tell them to call? Lower call time average one less person to speak to hooray!" Thing is, I called that 800 number and they'd never heard of us. So I called back and got this little zit named Kelly.

After doing the same spiel about giving me an 800 number I told her they hadn't heard of us and is she sure they were the right people to call. She's completely unhelpful and apathetic. Ok, so I ask for a supervisor - standard thing to do right? Kelly said "No." I'm completely dumbfounded. I used to gleefully turn people over to my supervisors. That meant I didn't have to deal with them anymore and my boss would have to actually work for a minute. I'm starting to wonder about those quality purposes my calls might be monitored for that were mentioned twelve times while I navigated the phone tree.

I want to interject at this point that Cody and I are both incredibly painfully polite to call center people whenever we have to call because we've both been there. And we try to be extremely good customers in stores and restaurants as well. We tend to take a there but for the grace of the gods go we attitude.

Ok, so I ask for her badge number. Again but with a smugness that outsmugged our nation's own white house monkey gobsmacked on a month-long bender of complete delusion and self-worship, Kelly said, "No." My sense of frustration and sheer lack of control over the situation and consequently my whole life is complete. So I ask her what the date on the account transfer was and it turns out it was...today! So of course these other people don't have our information yet. I tell Bitch Trog Kelly that it would have saved a lot of time and frustration if she'd just told me that before. That I've worked call center jobs and I know how bad they can be but she's been unbelievably rude and unneccesarily unhelpful. And she hung up. Of course when I called back there wasn't a note on the account. Where is that phone monitor in the sky now?

Oh Kelly you little fuckface from hell. My only wish for you is that you have to work call center jobs until the day you die. And that whenever you have to call a CS phone line you get people as cruel and apathetic as you were to me. Believe me, that is punishment enough.

Later on we went over to the local yarn store. All these knitting books and blogs keep saying support your local yarn store so we finally got over to it today. Now I'm not very good at making decisions on the spot. And this place was filled to the brim with yarn and even with my little prepared list I was completely overwhelmed. I think we were there for about two hours while I looked around and agonized over my decisions. I did come away with a nice variety of yarn that wasn't so cheap I felt like I was knitting with plastic six pack rings (like the learn to knit acrylic $ 1.49 a skein stuff I had) and stuff that's so nice and expensive (9 to 17 dollars a skein) I'm afraid to use it for the dorky beginner crap I'm currently making.

Fiesta Yarns is an outlet store, yes. But it was sort of like saying, "Gee I kind of want a new little purse..oh look! An outlet store!" and wandering into an Hermes outlet store (can you imagine?) when all you really need is a nice little discontinued Kate Spade. The good news is I'm learning as I go and I have some very very nice yarn to use when I feel that my projects are more worthy of it.

So I found some very nice middle-of-the-road yarn - different materials and textures much more managable for my novice hands and bougie budget. I did not buy my needles there though. They were all lovely but kind of expensive considering I'm stocking from scratch and don't really feel the need to knit on hand carved bamboo with little fancy beads on top at seventeen bucks a pop. So we went over to Michaels for the various needles I needed. I'm perfectly happy with the cheesy metal and plastic ones.

But I supported my local yarn store first. And I have to say, the people working there were kinda rude and not very helpful either. There was a definite insular coffee klatch sort of feeling. And believe me, I was totally aware of my newbie status and was very conscious to ask stupid beginner questions. In fact, at one point I showed a woman who worked there my list, told her I was very new to this, and asked where these specific brands were - but she went into a lecture about the varying weights and types of yarn and walked away. I wouldn't say they were outright rude - just not very eager to be helpful. Sort of showing the pretense of helping you without actually doing so. It didn't help that they were all a bunch of yankees so I guess their concept of what's polite is a little different from mine.

I also definitely got the feeling that they were looking down their noses at my little stab at being a trendy knitter. It reminded me of an old ladies' version of that local video store with all the painfully hip employees who were annoyed when they had to help you and smirked over your rental choices so you would just end up going to the plastic cookie cutter chain even though they didn't carry very obscure titles because you felt less judged.

I supported my local yarn store but it didn't support me. I think I'll be going online for my yarn needs now.

We went on a few other errands as well. Ending at the grocery store. We were extremely thirsty by then so grabbed a few cold sodas by the checkout. I got that new cherry vanilla diet dr pepper. And in the traffic on the way home I saw a car with a Viva Bush, Support our troops, a local christian radio station, and The power of love stickers all over tha back. A big suv of course. And the woman was driving like a maniac with her little phone stuck to her ear.

And that old Dr Pepper jingle came into my mind.

I'm an asshole
She's an asshole
He's an asshole
We're all assholes
Wouldn't you like to be an asshole too?

Bend over WordPress you are now my BITCH!

That's right I said it.

Ok, move along, nothing else to see here.

Now I'm going to eat some fettuccine and take a nap.

The dog has figured out how to pop open the toddler gate in the hall and gets in the den. I love this dog but it frustrates me to no end that the little shit still has accidents in the house. Probably our fault since we certainly don't have any kind of a normal, consistent lifestyle. And we don't even bother with the crate anymore. But she really fucking knows better than to shit in the house. Really. In any case. Cody forgot to close the gate and she got into the garbage and took an enormous shit right in front of the tv. Not fun to wake up to.

And my in-laws won't stop fucking calling us. "HELLO your son works nights he's sleeping when you call!!" They have called every day - sometimes several times in a row (Wednesday our caller id shows 3:51, 4:25, 4:41, 5:05) for the last week and a half. Calling about stupid annoying shit. I really wish they'd fuck off. Not like he likes it any better but if *I* complain he says "Oh ok I'll tell my parents to never call again." or "Oh right like if we moved back to Birmingham your parents wouldn't call every day." to which I say "No, they wouldn't. But especially not during the day when you're working nights." He knows they're crazy it just gets on his nerves to hear me bitch about it all the time. Ok, I don't bitch about it all the time but I sure have been when they've been calling every goddamn day for no fucking reason. I just don't have anyone else to complain about it to. This is what he gets for hindering any attempt at a social life I've ever tried for us to have. He gets to listen to me bitch about things I would normally complain about to actual friends. Part of the deal, buddy.

In other, more obviously commercial news Hottopic and Torrid are both having a big 50% off sale on all their clearance stuff but only until Sunday so if you like their stuff you might want to get over to both places and see if they have anything you'd like to buy. The prices are unbelievably cheap. So far I have six shirts and a pair of slippers (for about 2.50) in my cart and the subtotal is 50 bucks.

Nothing like a little shopping therapy to heal those in-law woes.

Oh I love this story I've been trying to post it since I came back on Sunday.

As I've mentioned before Cody has many aunts. For the most part they're a group of big boisterous sweet women who love going to the casino, playing bingo, cooking high-fat vaguely New Mexican food, and bargain shopping. A few of them came from a different dad - Cody's grandmother's first husband who I know nothing about. But those distinctions are almost never made. You can only tell the older ones by their genetic predisposition to be skinnier than the shorter, plumper ones I look more like.

There's one aunt who doesn't quite "fit" with the others and not in a fun way. She married a guy who usually comes off as a little darker, creeper than the other, more pleasant if a little silly and bigoted, husbands of the aunts. His source of funds is dubious and the speculation about his ties with the ranchero mafia boys flies about. But I don't know about any of that. All I know is their checks for computer parts have bounced and we just take them to Cody's mom and she deals with it. Between them they produced three children who have put a pretty hefty load on our welfare system.

Let me say that before I moved to their little small town for a year I'd never seen welfare abuse. After six months of watching what some of these people get up to I can actually understand to a certain extent why the man I married was a registered Republican. But that's another post for another time.

Anyway, they produced one cousin who is the worst example of this kind of apathetic shameless abuse I've ever seen. Neither she nor her husband have held a job in the seven years I've been acquainted with them. She's been in school on some kind of financial assistance program to get a degree until she finished one a year and a half ago. No idea what her major was but she doesn't work now.

I think at final count they have five or six kids ranging in age from the nineteen-year-old who started college last year to the one-year-old who was popped out suspiciously in time for the mother's student loan payments to come due.

She said really ugly things to me the one time she came to our new house in town for a bridal tea about how our place was entirely too big for two people. I quashed my immediate response: "We can afford it because we don't have ten kids." I never said anything to her when she said something mean to me about killing one's children when I had to put our first dog to sleep either. Just looked at her and felt pity. The anger came later.

The husband is on some kind of disability pay program but this doesn't prevent him from being able to do heavy work on random cars in the yard.

They are extremely religious and homeschool all of the children. Apparently you get a tax break for doing so. The only other places these people go are shopping at Big Lots and church in a big fucking van. The children are the epitome of all white trash children: awkward, dirty, badly dressed, ignorant, terribly-spoken, with awful, awful haircuts. We always groan when we hear they're coming to the ornament party because their ornaments always end up being cheap arts and crafts projects the kids made in the guise of home-schooling.

They didn't make a payment on their FHA home loan for five years. Then finally got booted and now live in a trailer on her mother's property.

And this last part really pisses me off: they have an unneutered male dog that roams their little neighborhood freely.

We hate these people.

The eldest daughter has grown a lot since I first met her in '97. She's always been a little awkward but my former high school goth friend and I could see signs of Emily the Strange in there. Eldest Girl was kept on an extremely short leash - strictly church, homeschool, family functions - until last year when she was sent to a very small not that scholastic but notoriously rowdy college in the east part of the state.

Frankly I was surprised she not only got in to college but got enough money to go. New Mexico kids are supposed to get help paying for school through the state lottery program but that doesn't cover books, food, and housing while there. At least I don't think so.

Anyway, after six months of school I saw Eldest Girl at last year's ornament party and she was starting to blossom a bit. She was a little more relaxed, better read, had an actual sense of humor about things. We went on a quick coffee run to Hastings with two other younger women in the family and had a pretty good time talking about coffee, shopping, comic books, and such. It was kinda nice.

Last spring I saw her mother at one of the family weddings and she was complaining about how Eldest Girl needed to get a job to learn the value of working for a dollar and stop taking their money and running around with her non-church-group friends. I just nodded and smiled and sang an I-Ron-Yyyyy! opera to myself.

Then at this weekend's party I get the news: Eldest Daughter is getting married in March. To a guy who wears a kilt. And has blonde hair to his butt. Hee!! There's are also rumors he's really into gaming too. Oh I'm betting MONEY he's in the SCA and swordfights on the weekends too.

The mom wasn't there but I heard the full complaint list from another cousin, who's not that much older than me and had just shown her new bough of flowers tattoo on her ankle, about how if he's going to dress that way he needs to be more polite to her parents. Or some nonsense. I'm sure they were really fucking welcoming to the boy too they've always been the epitome of politeness to me.

And all this crap about how he needs to cut his hair and get a job.

HE NEEDS TO GET A JOB? LMAO

I can't wait for the Celtic-themed wedding. Can't. Wait.

I swear one of Cody's aunts should be involved with the middle east peace process. One call from her yesterday and I was packing clothes for the weekend with tears in my eyes from her being so sweet. "Things just wouldn't be the same without you there!" And she meant it. She also remembered that I usually give glass icicles for the tree ornament exchange and had bought some because she'd heard money was tight. So here I am. At the house for the Aunts' ornament party.

Things went pretty well at the in-laws' house last night. Only two very close calls with the father-in-law and I discussing politics. So I've managed to be honest to myself and not rude by mostly saying "Um I have to admit I don't have a very good sense of humor where this is concerned right now." Ok and that other time when he said something about misdirection and Democrats and I said "So what exactly do you think the gay marriage issue is about? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain or that war goin on over thar we can't have faggots gettin married!" And the man whom I've heard use the term towelheads realized that maybe we shouldn't discuss politics right now.

I later told my mother-in-law how I've been having to fight Cody about moving to Europe and those jibes and jokes don't help my argument much. Basically saying: you might want to shut the fuck up if you want your son to stay in the country because he's a far worse commie pinko than you think I am.

The good part is I got my hair trimmed and there's an adorable miniature schnauzer here. I miss my critters but at least I've got one to play with here.

Cody's happily playing eq2 and eating leftover turkey at home and here I am with all the crazy aunts and cousins. They're actually quite sweet - but pretty much the target bush voter walmart shopper each and every one. My tongue will be sooooo swollen by tomorrow night when I get home.

Anyway, hope things are going well with everyone else. I'm going to go eat some cheese dip and play with a little grey dog.

Saying grace without alienating everyone.

Cody will be working both the night before and the night of Thanksgiving again this year. Jocelyn will be in San Francisco with Mr Tong. And I'm wondering if I really want to beg that ride off the cousin (who has recently adopted two teenaged girls along with her two young boys and probably doesn't need to worry about driving me anywhere) and go to Los Lunas.

Or just heat up a frozen turkey dinner and avoid the stress altogether. I honestly am not into the whole thanksgiving crap this year. It used to be about cooking with just the two of us. Then half-assed cooking with Jocelyn here too. Last year I was still hard core dieting and Cody had to work so Joce and I went to IHOP for roast chicken I think.

Now I'm just half-assed dieting and honestly? I don't really feel fucking thankful for much this year. I feel more like punching inanimate objects then thanking them for staying still for me.

I've also been trying to come up with excuses to not go to the big aunts' ornament party next weekend. My post election selection disorder is still entirely too touchy to deal with a room full of scary christian right republican aunts. No matter how nice they are to me I know I'll be looking into their eyes and thinking "Why did you vote for that toad fucker and how exactly does this make you a true Christian?" I know I'll slip up at least once so I think I should avoid it altogether this year.

Or I could just be a big bitch and buy a bunch of peace-themed christian crap. Things that say stuff like "Peace on Earth" or "Goodwill to Men" or little musical things that say "Donned we are in gay apparel" and "We three kings" and be hugely nastily sanctimonious. Oh they'd totally know what I was doing. Believe me.

I need some good excuses to give my mother-in-law. Ones that make it clear I don't want to (or can't) go without offending her - and believe me she's pretty easily offended. She pitched a huge crying fit once when I was talking about separation of church and state and how a public high school really shouldn't have a baccalaureate to stay within those parameters.

Here's what I've come up with so far:

Any suggestions?

more thoughts about MT:

If I can ban a commenter based on the ip address why can't I have an approved ip address list for known friends? Why isn't there a way to approve more than one comment at a time? There sure is a way to delete more than one comment at a time. How about a daily digest email of today's comments instead of one email for each or none at all. (if your blogging software does this I genuinely would like to know :))

Which is all kind of moot at the moment considering MT Blacklist is forcing moderation on every single comment anyway. Heck even I'm considering migrating to new software at this point and I was happy to pay the damn license fees everyone else was complaining about over the summer.

But on a positive note I tried out this really cool way to skin the MT backend interface. It was very easy to install and is a nice little change. What a nifty idea!

Now, I could use some constructive criticism. Or really just some plain CSS help: Does anyone know why the comment input box in this and this skin don't show until the bottom of the sidebar while it works fine on this and this skin? The only real difference between those two sets of skins is the ones that are screwing up use a container tag. That's all I can tell really.

If you help me fix this I'd reallyreallyreally appreciate it. Seriously. I'll even buy something off your amazon wishlist (if there's something around fifteen dollars on there). This has been bugging me for weeks.

I got in trouble today. We were turning into the Smith's parking lot and I gave a woman talking on her cellphone while she was driving her Hummer the finger. She didn't notice she was too busy discussing her rental of Shrek 2 from Hollywood Video on her Verizon phone to notice an angry little liberal woman with messed up hair and a cute new sweater showing her the middle finger. Cody got mad and said that's the kind of thing that gets you shot. He's right. And it was immature.

But for just that one little half second all those feelings of anger and helplessness welled up in that one little digit and it stood straight up. It really couldn't be helped. Then I fought tears of embarrassment, knowing I'd just done something stupid, again. I hate it when I do dumb things like that and get scolded. But damn seeing that Hummer made me mad. For that one second that perfectly manicured little hand holding a phone to her blonde stiffly coiffed little head behind the wheel of that gigantic fucking car embodied everything that is wrong.

The anger comes in waves as I read typed opinions around the web and the world. Defeat, anger, blame. Then the smugness. Oh, the smug self-satisfied posts full of false statistics and the usual begged questions and straw men. Or worse, the simple frat boy posts with blog equivalents of head butts. Dude! Bush won! Awesome!

I'm still angry and right now reading other opinions about it on either side just makes me angrier. I've been smart enough to avoid watching anything other than movies on television. And I've been practicing some escapist Simming.

"Why don't you just move to France" Heh. Funny...moving to a country in Europe is a regular subject of discussion in this house and it's gotten much more frequent this week.

I'm having to fight Cody's blind idealism of what living in another country is like. He's never even lived outside of the state it's very hard to explain to him that while yes these other places do seem better he won't be able to do a lot of the convenient shit he's used to doing here.

Don't get me wrong, I loved living in Sydney. But that situation was a very unique one. My parents moved there temporarily to help start a new phone company in 1992 and I tagged along. Dad's company was paying hefty expense accounts for the privilege of having my father work there - and of course it was worth it. But the housing and food costs, not to mention the bi-annual round trip plane tickets, taxes, who knows what else, even supplemented by the company the costs were probably outrageous.

I have no idea where he thinks we'd put all our crap, or where the money to do this would come from. Or how our pets would go. We have a very stable marriage except when this subject comes up. Suddenly I become the cynical bitch and he's the idealistic fool and we take our stances and neither will budge. Our ultimate goals start to seem very very different suddenly. I like to think I'm a supportive wife but this subject makes me want to say ugly hurtful things about the car in our driveway that hasn't been started in two years or the complete unsellable state of our house. About our clear inability to live like functioning adults where we are now - how the fuck could we carry this show to Europe?

We've been having this argument for a year now. I think it's a moot point really. First he'd have to get off his ass and get a passport and even though I've gotten the application and birth certificate all ready for him it hasn't been done. So it's still talk. But it's a very touchy subject for us both and I honestly don't know why. Maybe because I know it'll never happen so I wish he'd dream about something that we could actually accomplish. Or show even a slight sign that this is a feasible plan for us. I don't feel like I'm complacent really. But right now I'm happy where we are - even with the fascist president and potential totalitarian state. In New Mexico we have excellent food and good weather and live in a place thats affordable enough to buy our computer games, dvds, take care of our pets, and keep me in happy bunny socks and underpants to my heart's content. Gee how American I sound.

I love him. Of course I do. And I fight the urge to point out his fiscal flaws because I'm reallyreallyreally not one to speak. I just don't want to move to Europe right now. But I'd love for us to get our crap together enough to visit.

But thanks for the suggestion.

:ring ring:

Hello?

Um, Hi, Internet Explorer?

Speaking.

You probably don't know me but I was wondering if you would do me a favor

Well, I'll sure try little lady.

heh. yeah... Well I was wondering if you would please stop making my site look like crap. Every one else plays along so nicely. I was wondering if you would too.

.....

I'd really appreciate it.

.....

hello?

I'm afraid I can't do that honey. It's called proprietary bullshit. We have prurient interest in keeping things this way, young lady, but I'm not going to bother explaining it to you because...you're a girl. Yeah. *click*

shit.

--------

So. The remember me cookie monster and typekey functions should both work.

Now. Does anyone have an idea of why the comment input box (and *only* the comment input box) doesn't show until the bottom of the sidebar in this skin and this skin while this skin and this skin both work fine in Opera 7.0 and 7.5 and Internet Explorer 6.+ (who is naughty and therefore does not get a link)? All skins work perfectly in the Mozilla-based browsers Firefox, Mozilla, and Netscape, of course.

Ok I'm ready for this year to be done now. Seriously. 2004 can just fuck right off. Murphy's law has ruled our lives this year and I'm ready for it to just stop. Now. Every time something bad could possibly happen to our little household it has.

This week? My sixteen-year-old cat has a cataract on her left eye and our three-year-old refrigerator broke.

Last week? the bank in Alabama fucked up my online account access database. And those idiots kept saying it was because I was logging in incorrectly. Uh, no. It ended up being their fault, of course.

Week before that? Hail punctured our porch roof and pummelled hundreds of tiny dents in the car we park outside.

Ad Infinitum-

Our house insurance company insisted that we re-stucco our house, have four huge trees cut down, and get rid of the weeds in our yard.

Every service person I've called this year has either not shown up at all or shown up so negligently late that I had already called someone else.

Cody applied for a job which was given to someone who had been with the company for less time, was younger, had less experience and didn't even have a college degree. His big qualification? He goes to titty bars with the manager. That's really an important part of managing a wireless network for a state lottery. You betcha.

We've been forced to change health insurance to a company that is more expensive and less accessible. I hate my new doctor to the point where I'd rather pay full uninsured price to go back to my old cnp.

We had the first car wreck either of us have had in twelve years by being rear-ended by a woman on her cellphone.

This all happened just over the summer.

We're predicting the following for the rest of the year: locusts, which will cause our plane to crash at Christmas but we'll survive and be stranded in the wilds of Arkansas with the lost cast from Deliverance but won't be back in time for Cody's work so he'll lose his job, while we're away the hedgehog will escape, the cats will eat the hedgehog and all but one will die of peritonitis, the surviving one will set the house on fire before it escapes and spreads a rare airborne hedgehog-related disease in the neighborhood for which we'll be sued upon our return. We also won't have enough money to bail the dog out of the puppy hotel so they'll sell her for food. And still make us pay them. Our house will be foreclosed, our car will break, someone is surely going to get cancer, and there will be at least one bounced check. Oh, and Bush will probably win. Sorry that'll be our fault too even though we won't be voting for him and I'll be in traction or something the week of November second anyway.

I've heard lots of jokes about Bush and co being into bringing the endtimes but the scary thing is that somehow it gets more plausible to me every time someone says it. If things continue like this I won't even mind anymore. I'll even be saying something suicidally nonsensically frat-boyish like "Bring it on!"

There's always at least one in elementary school. The mean kid. The bully. Probably from a broken home, has at least one abusive parent, etc. And he (or she) is just..mean. Because of those shmuckhead parents everyone else now has an angry child on their hands who's determined for others to be just as unhappy as he (or she) is. Pulling ponytails, making fun of your art project, beating up kids on the playground. The teacher tries to mediate to a certain extent but there's just so much that taking a kid to the principal can do to help a 'troubled child' like this. Call social services I guess. But that's now a permanently angry child who's going to grow into a permanently angry adult fucking up his (or her) own children.

Psychologists sometimes call them invalidators. I'm sure you've met one or two. You say "black" they say "black is for pussies" or "I knew you were going to say black" vaguely implying that your choice is inferior without ever really saying so. You're never quite sure about what (or who) today's target will be but you can be sure that they will put something important in your life down at least once.

I've got someone like this on the fringes of my life now. The outer fringes that's for sure but a connection to my life nonetheless and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not close enough to it to be able to make any difference but I'm not far away enough to never have to deal with it. All I get to do is just deal with the ugliness when it reaches this far.

Intellectually I know that this is just a sad person who never got over a bad childhood and is very unhappy with the way their life is going. The meanest two things I can do to this person is pity and ignore them. In essence, do not feed the troll.

But the few encounters I've had make me want to just smack the shit out of them, tie them to a chair, and make them watch nora ephron movies until their eyeballs bleed. Putz.

Lucky I picked this book up at the b and n bargain bin a few months ago. I think it'll come in handy.

Do you have an invalidator in your life? How do you deal with them? What's your revenge fantasy for them?

if we had a child. Really.

let's all send our thoughts/prayers/etc Heather's way.

This is my third attempt at posting this because my puter is being stinky by locking up and seems to want a reformat - or just dislikes the word 'tits' - which is likely too.

We don't live in a big city where walking down the street being harassed by construction workers wearing 'No Fat Chicks' shirts is a common occurrence. This is not by accident. I'm not sure what the standard protocol is when dealing with that stuff and I'll be the first to admit that my social skills vary wildly. My proper southern upbringing keeps my manners in check most of the time but sometimes there's this thing in my brain that takes over and I can't stop myself from calling 'foul' when I see one happening. This is definitely a trait I inherited from my mother and I'm simultaneously proud of and horrified by it.

Jocelyn and I went to the gym a few days ago. This isn't uncommon we've been going pretty much every other day this summer. The gym closes early on the weekends (to avoid drunken weightlifter brawls?) so we only had time to swim. It's generally a good mix of people there: tiny tarts in color-coordinated outfits with matching ribbons in their hair, gangboys with shaved heads and homemade tattoos, skinny young teenage boys with long hair and oversized clothes lifting far too much weight, chubby middle-aged women with huge hair and long nails, old men with baggy shorts and baggier man boobs.

It's not a bad crowd really but the room with the pool takes some getting used to because the whirlpool and doors to the sauna and steam room are all in the same room so there are always people sitting around on benches cooling off with nothing better than to sit there watching you getting in and out of the pool.

Anyway on Saturday I went to the pool area first. I noticed there was a guy in his mid-fifties doing half-assed swimming while he was mostly just checking out girls' butts. I'm pretty immune to this stuff ? I don't fit the 'getting stared at' category and haven't in a while. Admittedly that's not an accident either. I'd watched this sleaze check out several butts and once he even tried talking to a confused woman on her way out the door. I'm happily doing breast stroke laps. Jocelyn comes in and starts doing laps too. In the meantime Spawn of Creepy Man gets into the pool too and they're just in the pool leaning on the wall talking about whatever idiots like this talk about.

Jocelyn starts to do backstrokes because she has a thing about her head being under water. Her boobs are sticking out of the water and ya know, sure, they look nice. I'm swimming a slow breast stroke towards the Creepy Man and Junior's end of the pool. Spawn of Creepy Man nudges his dad and says ?Check out those tits?. They do then Creepy Dad looks at me ? right in the eye. And I just can't stop myself: "Are you ogling my friend's tits??" Jocelyn didn't hear what they said and just assumes I'm being an embarrassing freak again, yells my name and splashes me. While Spawn of Creepy Man just keeps asking what 'ogling' means. I dunno I just turn around and start heading for the other end of the pool but I'm fairly sure Spawn of Creepy Man is making all kinds of excuses while making disparaging remarks about me (fat and dyke being choice phrases) making his dad laugh.

I think he was mostly just pissed that he a.) was called on his shit and b.) doesn't know basic vocabulary. Apparently Creepy Dad later said something to Jocelyn like "I was just admiring them". And at one point I passed him and said "It was just a straightforward question dude." During one lap he winked at me. eeeooow.

So was it wrong of me to say something? To me, especially when one of those fuckers was looking me right in the eye, not saying something was tantamount to giving them permission. But it did call more attention to the whole issue than just not saying anything would've done. I mean looking is one thing but nudging a buddy and saying 'dude check out those tits' right where we could hear them is something else. We don't go to the gym to show off our bodies goddammit we're there to exercise and feel better. If we wanted to be in a fucking skin parade we'd be at "The Beach" or something. You want to look at tits there's no shortage of "Hooters" and tittie bars in Albuquerque.

Bleh.

Tonight I watched a documentary about child beauty pageants and a show on discovery health about women with munchausen by proxy syndrome.

One group decorates their little girls to they look like bar whores and the other injects their children with insulin and falsify medical records for unneccessary surgery. All so these pathetic people can get attention through their kids. Reason number 1012 why I have social phobia and avoid leaving the house.

With Bill Maher in his hiatus I was only going to have the Daily Show and phone conversations with my dad for acceptable ways to hear the news. NPR is cool but it usually just depresses me. There's a fine line that divides news I can hear and think about and news that makes me want to go get in the bathtub and cry for the next eight years...

Oddly enough listening to scary right-wing talk radio has been known to help me with my panic attacks when driving because they make me so angry. Of course I'm not dreaming! I wouldn't dream creepy people like that, right? Helps with those dissociative feelings that's for sure.

But for the most part I try to not upset myself in that way because then I start to get a chilling feeling that most people in the US are like that. Although it seems that spending a healthy amount of time with UNM law students helps allay those fears :)

So I was pretty excited to hear about Air America Radio then I discovered they were only going live in three cities. It will take years before it gets to New Mexico. But guess what? They're doing live streaming from their website! Wheee! And it's actually working today! Yaay! Been listening to the O'Franken factor! This is so fun!

Quiet night for the most part. Cody has to work tonight and I'm kind of bummed about that. I've managed to get onto a daysleeping schedule again. I'm always swinging from days to nights. I have a love/hate thing about my husband working night shifts. He loves loves his job though and I'm so glad. I wish I could find a job that fit me as well as this one does him. Managing the network and database for the new mexico lottery is pretty cool. Wonder what would fit me as well? Something involving art, animals, and computers. And I could bring Winter the ridgeback and Zola the hedgehog aka Windy Ridge's Second Mrs DeWinter and Gorgonzola Pokypants. I'm passing blame to the geeky husband on my left for the names. Well, some of the blame.

But I'm feeling much better tonight. A little anxious about inexplicable things but I can handle that. It's so hard to explain to people who've never had these kinds of symptons what it's like. My latest diagnosis has been depression with generalized anxiety and panic disorder with a side order of social phobia and mild agoraphobia. Basically I get really sad for no reason, get panicky for no reason, can't drive alone without heart palpitations and dissociative feelings, a majority of people scare me - particularly rabid right wingers lol.

Funny thing is people are generally shocked to learn these things about me because when I do go out I actually come off really well-adjusted and normal. People are generally shocked to learn I have a tattoo as well though. Imagine me coming off as a round shiny preppie housewife girl. Ha! It's like that's my evil depression superhero cover identity.

So the depression thing pretty much covers it all and mix that in with the hypothyroid and I'm tired all the time if I don't take my meds. Twelve hours of sleep are perfectly normal for me during these times. Even when I do take my meds it takes a lot of coffee to get me going when I wake up. Sometimes I look back at my pre-diagnosis years and can pinpoint the symptoms. I try not to define myself by these things though. Does depression define who I am? Sure these things affect my daily life but I'm not sure if it does any more than where I grew up, the color of my hair, or who I'm married to. Maybe it's what I read. Kidding.

A few years ago there was a person I thought we were friends with stop calling us after she found out Cody and I are both on medication for depression. How fucked up is that? What year is this? In a way it was kind of a relief because every time we went to the movies with her and her ex-junky boyfriend they wanted to go see the most awful dreck films like payback or stigmata. Hmm she was prejudiced against our mental disorders and I was prejudiced against her stunted taste in film plots. I may be crazy but at least I don't want to pay full price for a piece of crap vigilante action flick mel gibson pre-passion-but-somehow-just-as-bloody-and-self-righteous dreck crap with a bloated budget and flash film and lighting tricks that's been redone infinitely since 1992. Give me my phobias and depressive days any day over that shite.

Ok so enough futzing around with figuring out movable type templates. Time to bite the bullet and post already. Not trying to make a big deal with this site. Just want to get some thoughts written down someplace because I think I rely way too much on other people to remember the random crap I say. And it was kind of fun making Nicole's website. Clearly I'm out of practice but at least I'm getting the css/dynamic content thing this time around. Been so long since I've made a website. Four years? Five? I'd given up on the site creation. At the time I don't think I had much else to say. Felt like I was talking in the wind. I guess what's changed is I don't really care if no one reads this.

I've definitely got some rules in mind for myself. I won't get involved in the blog wars bullshit. I won't check my referrer logs. Maybe I'll link to weblogs I like to read but I don't want to get involved in cliques, personality cults, that kind of thing. This is the big one: I won't consider my audience when writing. If people like what I have to say, great. If not there are about ten trillion other sites out there to play with. A few 'real life' friends or family may be made aware of the site but I will not worry about it. Of course these are my rules so I suppose I can break them anytime.

Kind of in a bad depression the last two nights. Generalized anxiety, tense jaw, tight feeling where my neck meets my skull. Feels kind of like a nic fit but it's been 1y 1m 3w 1d since I smoked. A few fleeting bad thoughts. Overwhelmed with the neverending list of shit to do. Might be pms. Last month was like a nightmare pms meltdown that caused me to gain ten of my beloved 40 lost pounds. Still haven't lost it back yet. Damn. I really need to get an appointment with my doctor and get back on the wellbutrin. I was on a blissful zoloft/wellbutrin cocktail - it took a whole lot to make me upset and I didn't want to eat or smoke to feel better. Cody made cheeseburger macaroni hamburger helper with ground turkey for me last night. I can't eat high fat foods even if I want to now - makes me really sick afterwards. Never thought I'd be that kind of gal.

Set up a play area for the hedgehog on the new desks and turned off the light. She's been running on the wheel a bit, eating, and napping.