Another entry in the bad mom diary...

So... this morning is braid day for our household or rather, the younger females of our household.  Thanks in part to family members who came to my rescue once again, my daughter will finally get to look like girls again.

But when I pulled out old trusty, my hot comb, I came face to face with what I have been steadfastly ignoring for about three months.

Since August, my youngest daughter has been loosing hair and sadly I knew it was happening but because there wasn't a damn thing I could do, I turned a blind eye and let my child wear basically combovers because like I said there was nothing I could do and looking at it would only make me madder than I needed to be.

Their dad got married in August and their grandmother  (His mother) took it upon herself to put a perm in my daughters' heads.  For the people of the lighter persuasion who read my blog, a black person's 'perm' is really a relaxer.  To make the hair straight.  And I'm not explaining that with any snide in my voice, some people honestly don't know that black people tend to call a relaxer a perm.  Anyway, she put one in each of my daughter's hair.  The problem, she used the same one that she uses on her head.  The blacks reading this know where this is going already.  Kay's hair could take it better because I've had to actually use a strong perm on her hair once.  It was a bad summer that year and I had no choice so her hair was, while not used to it, stronger and able to take it.  Liv's hair, however had been pampered with low strength children's perms all her life because she had a different quality of hair that Kayla did.  Kay gets her hair from me.  IT's rough, it's thick and it really doesn't ever act right unless you straighten it well.  Livy's hair was fine with an essential blow out but a children's perm made that blow out like condition last way longer.

Anyway, my x mother in law used an adult super strength perm on both heads and left them on until the girls said their scalps were burning.  Which is way too long.  For the wedding day, their hair looked pretty decent.  But very soon after, it started falling out.

As a matter of fact, When they were returned to me at the end of August for school, Liv's hair was already starting to fall out.

This morning, like I said, I was confronted with just how bad her hair really was...

This was what her hair looked like BEfore I hot combed it...

And this is what it looked like after I'd gotten somewhat through it.  I sincerely hope the talented African girls at the shop can get their tiny fingers on that.  IF they can't we will have to work something out.

So yeah, I'm starting the day feeling like a horrible mother.  Not a good feeling.

Stay frosty bloggers, I have to go get the money to fix this travesty.  I will blog later.

Oh a By the Way...

Things Claudette should NOT do...

I think number one should be go into to Walgreen's late at night and walk past the wine selection.  Had an interesting conversation with the lady at the register who now thinks I might be certifiably nuts and probably won't sell me so much as cough syrup anymore.

Number two would be get home and go to town on bottle number one.

Number three would be browse Tinder.

No, let's move number three to number one.

There are some hot guys in Charlotte.  Does the queen city know she has all these hot men?  I'm not sure she does.

If you can't tell I'm well into bottle number one, so let's make number 4 on the list blog while inebriated, shall we?

Hell at least I can spell.

Back to Tinder.  So this afternoon when I installed it, I rated a bunch of guys.  Like seriously, A BUNCH and like seven said like on me.  It might be the very low alcohol by volume cheap wine talking but that's not bad.

Oh wait... eight.  One just liked me back...  He's not too bad looking although his profile is a one liner that says "Seduce away"  Hmmmm....

I should go to bed.  I should really go to bed.  Tomorrow I have to.... uhm... well...

You know what would be really awesome right now?  Finding my sims City 4 disc.  I can't find it and I really want to play it.  I wonder where it went.

THAT'S what I should do tomorrow!! I should clean my room!  I think I will!  Yes.  I shall.

(I probably won't.  I'll probably find something shiny and sit and play with it for hours because I'm just that ADHD.)

*Glances at Mt Laundry*

I should fold that.  I really should.

I'm going to go to bed.  Right after I finish this bottle...er glass of wine...

Stay frosty bloggers.

Nightly 10-28-14

Well, I got some sleep.  That much I can tell you.  And it would seem that sleep, as always, is the key to lifting my mood.  Well not lifting my mood but rather, returning me to the outer bailey of the realm of sane.

I took my night meds like I said I was going to do last night and I got a good six or seven hours of uninterrupted sleep.  I can honestly say that when I finally pulled myself out of bed I didn't feel like I wanted to crawl back in, cover my head and pretend that this was post apocalyptic earth where I didn't have to see anyone if I pretended to stay still.  So... bonus!!

I spent most of the day marathoning The Walking dead.  I'm trying to catch up so that I can go back to walking dead night's a P and J's  Heh P an J's  I like that.  Like peanut butter and Jelly.  That's probably why they fit so well together.  Hehe.  I just made myself laugh a little bit.

Work was good.  I was in a good mood because I decided screw it, life is way way WAY too short not to at least try to be happy.  So try I shall do.  I danced, I had fun, I made a pizza or twelve, I made a free remake for a lady and then made a remake for the same lady (And from what I heard on the end of the line Lady is a term that should be used lightly).  Something about her pizza being messed up.

Here's the thing.  You get a small pizza which already has 3.5 oz of cheese on it and then you add 2x the extra cheese.  One, that is constipation in a box.  And two that is 7.5 oz of pure Mozzarella on 8 oz of baked bread and about 1/8 c of sauce. (Yeah, I know I just gave out all of our secrets.)  When it comes out of the 450 degree oven, the pizza is going to have melted all over the crusts of your pizza because, well, it's cheese and it's more cheese than should be on a small and it's not going to follow the rules, it's going to melt all over the bleepity bleep pizza.  I can shove that gooey mess back into the circle it's supposed to be but then I can't cut it because once I cut it, it's going to ooze in that direction as well.  It's going to be oozy and gooey and a general mess.  It is not going to be pretty.  I might be good, I don't know, I can't eat cheese but it's not going to be pretty.  And it is not messed up.  So please don't call and cuss out the shift leader who had nothing to do with your pizza.  If anything call and cuss out the cook that made it.  No... wait.. that would be me and that confrontation would not end well.  Well, it might end well for her because she will get more free food but it would not end well for me because I'd be out of a job.  Still, Do not call and cuss out the shift leader.  Never cuss out the shift leader.  None of them.  Just don't.

So in other news, I got on my Wii Fit today.  Six days ago I got on it and it asked me to set a weight loss goal.  I chose two pounds in two weeks, pretty much what I always do.  Mainly because it's normally about a month between the times I get on the thing.  Well surprise surprise, I got on it after only six damn days and have lost 3.6 lbs.

Yay!  And no, that wasn't a me hoping in the air with a big ass smile on my face yay...  That was a sarcastic yay.

Dare I say it, I'm losing weight too fast.  Last night, I went to put on this silver ring that I have had forever and it fell off my ring finger.  On a normal basis it was a little struggle to get it on the finger and the ones it did slip onto easily were cut off from circulation after a few minutes.

It would figure that I would go through another bout of weight loss.  My stomach is torn up again.  And my blood pressure is high.  I spent last week in a haze of migraines and nosebleeds.  I need to lay off the salty shit.  Of course this means laying off the french fries which are by far the most awesome food on earth.  I could eat french fries for dinner and never eat anything else... and I have for like a week.  But I realize now that I'm older and my body is shedding the excess weight, the salt of the french fries and other foods I eat is not a good thing.  I don't absorb it the way I used to.  Now it give me all sorts of baddies  Migraines, the extreme thirst that not even sticking my head in lake Michigan could quench, the nosebleeds from hell that don't stop unless I plug my nose and hang my head upside down which causes blood to rush to my brain which gives me migraines.  I supposed I should give in and go make an appointment to see my Dr.

And not because the itch plus B is withholding my meds.  She refuses to refill my trazodone which is starting to get lower than I like to see it.  She's probably going to withhold my tramadol next in which case we will fight.  No I'm serious.  We will fight.

My girls are going to get their hair done on Saturday.  Finally, my little girls will get to look like little girls again and I swear if my xmil lays a hand on their heads....

I'm washing the rags from work tonight.  I do this about once every two weeks on average.  The dry cleaners next door used to do them but she runs them through the machine once and then brings them back.  Nah honey.  If they are a dull and dingy as when you put them in the washing machine, wash them again.  The first time I washed them it took a full bottle of bleach and like five washes to get them clean and then I learned an important lesson.  One must get the shit out before one should add bleach.  So now we wash them until the water runs clean and THEN I add bleach and wash them one more time.  Saves bleach and I'm not bleaching dirt. That being said,my washer seems to eat the really icky rags...  We don't have the proper space of whatnot to hang the rags until they get dry before putting them in the wash pile so what happens is dirty wet rags get thrown on top of dirty damp rags and mold begins to grow and they get even groadier.  Is that a word?  Well it is tonight.  When I wash them I wash them all together but the ones that still have mold on them after the bleach, well, they conveniently go away.  I don't know what happens to them, I swear I don't...

*Walks away whistling innocently*

I have about a half and hour left on the episode of Walking dead I started when I got home but I am tired and I think I will finish it in the AM.  I don't have to be ready until about five when J picks me up for work.

I love my friends and my family that's been giving me rides, but I want my wheels back!!  I miss the independence of just being able to go wherever, whenever.  I am not a housebound kind of person anymore.

Ugh!  Ending this on a good note.  I'm gonna turn off the xbox and get some z's.

Stay frosty y'all!!

(Untitled)

Does anyone know a good way to stop crying?  I really really need an answer here.  Because if I cry anymore, I'm pretty sure that I will be dehydrated in a weeks time.  I can't do this and I don't know why I am.

When my marriage blew up, I cried maybe three real times that I can think of.  Three times that the tears meant something.  The rest of the time I shouted and I fought and I said some things that shouldn't have ever been said as well as some that should have been said years before.  They both earned me an enemy and a friend that come hell or high water has my back for probably the rest of my life.

Hang on, my windows media player thinks that NOW is the best time to play Backstreet Boys' "I'll never break your heart."  Really?!?!?!

There is way too much of that on my WMP and thanks to my mom needing a few songs for a disc I'm supposed to make there's a shit load of songs praising god.  Sorry, but that is NOT what I need to hear right now.

Where was I?  Oh.  I fought and shouted when my marriage ended because I felt I had been wronged but in this, I was the one doing the wronging and at the moment, I am doing one hell of a job beating myself up so I guess I am fighting but still...

Like I probably said before the person that got hurt by my blog is not the first person to be hurt.  The last person I hurt knowingly however, I didn't want a second chance with.  Ironically, it's me not wanting a second chance that won me one as well as a third fourth and so many more chances than I'll ever use.

If you haven't guessed, the last person I knowingly hurt with my blog was my ex husband.  And it was him seeing how I felt all spelled out for him that showed him I was hurting and not capable to saying what I said there to his face.  I eventually did say those things and many many more to his face but when I finally said them, I wasn't hurting him, I was earning his respect because in his eyes, now I could go out into the world and actually express how I felt to someone else.  It was okay for him to cut the final string.

He was soo soo wrong.  I still can't tell people how I feel.  I just sit and nod and let stuff build up inside until it all comes rushing out in one torrential outburst that comes with casualties.

This time... this time I truly and honestly didn't mean to hurt anyone.  I just meant to get certain things off my mind.  So if I fight, who else can I fight but myself?  Who else can I beat the shit out of but myself?  Who else can I scream at but myself?

I'm afraid to sleep.  I don't think I've ever been afraid to sleep.  Last night I didn't take the trazodone because that keeps me asleep.  Instead I tossed and turned all night because that way, there was no chance of dreaming something that would make me cry.  The result was that I cried all night anyway but I was awake for it.

I'm not hungry although I know I should eat.  I bought a bag of Dove Chocolates as a last minute comfort food that has always worked in the past. (In an "Oh shit, I just ate an entire bag of chocolates." now I have something else to feel guilty about kinda way)  But Dove chocolate tastes like sawdust.  I cooked tonight.  I made chicken tenders, rice and corn.  On a normal basis, I can down about six tenders, half a bag of rice (Which equals about a pound), and almost a can of corn on my own.  Yeah, I'm a big girl.  Do you know what I managed to shove down my throat tonight?  Three tenders, three spoonfuls of corn, and not even three spoonfuls of rice.

At least one good thing will come out of this.  I'm going to be an absolute stick figure by the time I get my head above water.

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About the only thing that has tasted good today is a glass of water.  Do you think I'm kidding?  I'm not.  They tell me that about 40 ounces of water is good for you daily.  My water bill will probably beg to differ.  I wake up crying with a dry throat so I down a big cup of water.  I pee and I cry and my throat hurts from crying and my eyes are dry so I drink another big cup of water.  It's nine pm and I've had six huge cups of water.

That's number seven tonight by the way.  Six went the way of the medji with what I suppose you could call dinner.

You know what, I'm sitting here reading this and thinking about how pathetic I sound.  I mean I have my reasons for why I'm so broken up but I'm not going to share those here.

Hopefully the fact that I know that I sound like a pathetic blithering mess right now will make it easier to sleep tonight.  I fully planned to take my meds and get a good night's sleep.  I have to work tomorrow night and I have to work with the person that I hurt.  I really really don't want to spend the night doing stupid things like crying everytime he has to say something to me.

That would be bad.

I am currently trying to plod through my DVR.  How to get away with murder (Which has a lot of sodomy in it.  Okay maybe that's not the best way to say it but the gay guy has an ENORMOUS amount of sex.  On network television.  I'm jealous and intrigued and damn proud!  Go Gay rights!!  Someone is wearing the big ball sack over there!!) is holding me but not holding me.  Grey's anatomy, it's ok  No one falling in love there.  Scandal... I dunno yet.  There's always sex.

Little side note... The little notes they put inside of the dove chocolates that are supposed to be encouraging... aren't.

I want to take a bubble bath.  No, I want to go to a spa and get someone to rub me down until all of the feeling in my body falls off to the floor.  Can someone do that for me?

I need to start rambling again.  If I can start rambling again, I can try and get back to who I was.

Hey I haven't cried in about an hour though.  Water is not leaking from my eyes but the adverse side of that is that when I stand up, I'm going to have to pee like a racehorse.  I won't be getting up anytime soon.

Dunno what time my aunt is going to pick me up for work tomorrow but I have a feeling that if I get good sleep tonight I should be able to power through the rest of season four of The Walking Dead before she gets here.

Right now, I need my bestie, a tub of ice cream, and a string of Lifetime movies.  Very little talking, enough crying so that I don't ever cry again.  I need my bestie to sit next to me and just say "Yep." when I go off on a tear filled tangent.

Aw fuck, I'm crying again.

I'm going to find something to watch that will make me laugh.

Right after I go pee, Damn water.  What is the city putting in this stuff?

I should be asleep

Lord above knows I am tired but at the moment, I can't really sleep.  There's a lot on my mind and when I finally went to sleep last night, I cried until I drifted off and kept crying because when I woke up my pillow was wet.  I also had some really nasty dreams.

Mind you there was no blood and for once they weren't themed around the latest netflix shows I've been watching which are Call the Midwife and the Walking dead.  But they were still nasty.

I'm not clear on the details this many hours later, but I can say that there was pain in every dream.  Snap crackle and pop weren't the only sounds in my bedroom this morning.  A lot of groaning because my body hurt in places it shouldn't have joined the chorus.

I also spent a copious amount of this morning crying.  I didn't know the human body had this many gallons of salt water in it.  I went to work where I cried.  And I would stop crying for strangely long periods but then I would cry again and then I did something that I'm finding I do way more than I should which is speak out of anger and aim it at the wrong person.  I have already apologized to them but I think I'm just going to start a list.  I;m going to label it "People who deserve multiple apologies"

I managed to ride home with my mom and not cry.  I even managed to be mom for all of ten minutes and not cry and bonus, I even had a conversation on the phone and didn't cry or pick a fight.

But then I sat here and cried.  And cried because I was crying.  Then I got mad that I was crying and I cried some more.  Seriously, there can't be this much salt in a normal human body.  There can't be this much water.  There just can't.

So needless to say that although I'm sitting here yawning on top of yawns (That very surreal moment when you are almost finished with the first yawn and a second yawn sneaks in at the end and you yawn again)  I'm actually afraid to go to bed.  I don't want bad dreams and I don't want to wake up with a wet pillow.

Also, I'm off tomorrow.  Pretty sure I will cry again because what else is sleep for but to apparently replace the water in your body so that you can spend the day repeating the same activity you've been doing for a day and a quarter.

Can I wake up just one day and be a guy?  Just one day.  Scratch wherever I want to, say whatever, act however?  Just one day I'd like to wake up as a guy.

Oh leave me alone, I know I just categorized men into an unflattering light... again...

My eyes are heavy bloggers.  I'm not going to be able to fight not going to bed much longer.  I may or may not blog tomorrow.  It's my day off so I don't imagine too many things will happen that will be blog worthy.  NInety percent sure that I will curl up in bed or get out bed and clean something.

Okay, I give.  I'm going to bed.

Bridges and walls.

Can you mend fences
When you only fix what you see
And all you see is half the fence?

Can you build bridges
When the water is rushing
And you don't know how to swim?

Can you tear down walls
When they're made of steel
And your wrecking ball is plastic?

Can you trust someone
When you don't listen to them
And only judge what you think you hear?

Your fences will always be broken.
Your bridges will always fall in.
Your walls will always keep good things out.
And your trust will always be only in yourself.

You must listen to build fences.
You must talk to build bridges.
You must trust to tear down walls
You must let walls fall to build trust.

I will stand and hold the boards while you hammer.
I will help keep you afloat until the bridge is built.
I will chip away at my side of the wall until I meet you.

Just trust that it was worth your time.

The trust has to be on both sides.
Mine is there.  Always was.
All we need is yours.

An Apology... not that it matters.

So once again my fingers got me in trouble.  This time they have ended something that I'm not sure ever began but whatever.

I got mad. And I went overboard.  And I got insulting.  I admit that. I admit all of that.  Even if this is my personal blog and I don't name names, people can still access it and see it and read it.  Given that, Even that, especially that, I should still be a lady and not be an insulting asshole about anyone.

So recently I posted a blog titled Men Suck.  If you want to look for it, fine, I'm not going to delete it because it's out there and I did feel that way at the time. The message I was putting down was what I felt, I just went about saying it the wrong way.  I was insulting and belittling to all men.  No man deserved that.

The thing is I never get to tell my side of the story.  Ever.  Everything and everyone else is always more important that me in everyone else's world.  To tell the truth, I'm not even in my own top five anymore.  

No one ever wants to know my side of any story.  And I mean that.  Ever.  Some people might listen and then turn it into their own time where I listen to their woes but then some just don't have time for me at all.  And they don't see how much it hurts.  But that's neither here nor there.

What I'm trying to say, is that I meant what I said, but I didn't mean it the way I said it.  I hope that makes sense.  I'm pretty sure it doesn't.  However, it's the only way I can say sorry.

I have removed my blog from Twitterfeed.  If you are reading this because you now follow it, great but it's not going to post to my facebook anymore as far as I know.  Of course if this shows up, then there's a setting I can't erase.

Full as a tick

 Oh my God!!!

So tonight, My aunt had family dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse.  A couple of things.  One, this place was so awesome that I turned my phone OFF.  not on silent, not on vibrate, I turned it OFF.  And did so without being asked to do so.  Second, the food...

Insert Homer Simpson like drool here.

So my salad was an actual wedge of iceberg lettuce.  Like they cut the entire head into fours and made four salads.  It was 1/4 of a head of lettuce.  Yeah I know that may not be awesome to everyone but then they put thousand island and bacon on top of it and I got the guy who's sole purpose in the place it is to put fresh ground pepper on things to grind pepper on it.  Awesomeness!!  I have always dreamed of eating someplace where a guy stand over me and tells me to say when to make the pepper stop.  I know, I have very small dreams but damn it was nice and fresh and awesome and it was good and drool...And then the steaks....

I had the cowboy ribeye.  22oz of delicious life altering cow.  Mr. Cow I don't know who you were or where you grew up but damn am I glad you graced my plate with your ass tonight.  I love you.  I didn't finish you because there was a LOBSTER TAIL on top of you but oh my damn what I did manage to get down was so freaking fantastic...  And the baked potato... Until this summer, I never at baked potatoes but Patty made me eat one this summer and I am SO glad she did.  SO glad.

And if that wasn't enough, I had wine AND a Chocolate martini.(Which don't let it fool you it's really a really strong white russian)  But so good.  I know, I'm saying so good a lot but... so good.

And dessert!  Chocolate molten lava cake.  I had it without the caramel and the ice cream because there has to be a limit with even something that awesome and ice cream was my limit tonight.  The chocolate has espresso.  I'm pretty sure I may not sleep tonight.

Hell who am I kidding, I might not eat for at least 36 hours.  I am so damn full.

And why do people say full as a tick??  I would think full as a leech since when leeches are done feeding they just fall off.  That's what I wanted to do tonight just fall out.  But I couldn't because I was wearing so much spandex under my dress that even if I would have fallen out I would still been sitting straight up with my tummy sucked in.

Come to think of it, if I hadn't had the tummy sucker I might have been able to finish the steak.  Nah.  Maybe.  Most probably. but

Oh.

My.

 God.

If you get the fundage to go, I highly recommend Ruth's Chris Steakhouse.

Now off the foodage and onto me.  I already said I was wearing spandex but you should have seen the whole outfit!

As a matter of fact... hang on...

You know what, I'm so done trying to format these pictures.  I'm actually tired and have a food headache.

Maybe food headache isn't the best description.  I have an I've had my period for three damn weeks eaten enough chocolate to give an anorexic diabetes and want to go to bed kind of headache.  But as you can see, I looked good!  And I finally got my knee high black boots and they are fantastic!!  I'm ignoring the fact that you can see my bra thrugh the top of my dress.  Concentrate that there are indeed boobs up there.  Don't get to see those at work.  Lesson to guys.  Take me places where I can show off the boobs.  I will be happy.  Because I will be happy, you will end the night happy.

Wait... did I just say that if you take me out and let me look like a girl I will put out?

You damn skippy.

Also, there should be some foodage involved.  I'm not picky.  Maybe a movie.  And some foreplay.  But mostly take me out and show me off.  I like to be shown off.  I like thinking that people of you because you're with me.

I'm vain like that.  Get over it, let me be a girl and you'll be happy.

I'm going to take my night meds and go to bed.

I had a blast tonight.  Thank you Auntie!!

Night bloggers!!  Stay frosty!!

I can't say I'm okay

But I can't say that I'm not.

Work is still fun although some parts of it and some days, it actually does feel like work and some days I just dont want to be bothered.  I don't like feeling like that and in the past those tend to be the days when I'm so off my game that something bad happens.  Tonight I made and remade a pizza wrong.  Yep, I made a pizza wrong and then made the remake wrong.  Same pizza, wrong twice.  That has to show you how off my game I was.

Not that tonight was one of those nights where I don't want to be bothered.  Quite the opposite actually.  I sat in the house for I wanna say two days but I got out yesterday AND got to make pizza. (Howie's is like a siren call, I don't go far from it...ever.)  But tonight.  Something just wasn't... there.

It's not car issues.  I could care less about my car.  It's probably more like health issues.  I'm back to feeling broken again but this time, thank God, it's missing a period, it's the freaking period from hell that never goddamn ends.

On week three now.  Weight gain is up to thirteen pounds mostly because I eat chocolate and French fries.  And when I'm not eating chocolate and french fries, I'm craving chocolate and french fries or feeling guilty because I just ate chocolate and french fries.  I need this to end.

On the other hand, while I'm a freaking fountain of... I'm not going to finish that... I'm most decidedly not horney.  The thought of that right now... ew.  And for that reason I can actually look at my latest crush objectively and realize... meh.  Of course all males are meh at the moment.  And I don't mean that in a bad way at all, just an I can leave you because I probably won't take you right now kind of way.  I actually attempted to watch The Borgia's on Netflix tonight and there are mad sex scenes in it.  For the first time in a long time I watched them with a sense of ...well... meh.  A lot of bloody moaning and groaning and men having all the damn fun.

I don't understand the mechanics of it all.  They stick that into us women and go in and out and it's supposed to feel good??  You might laugh and you might say because I've never actually enjoyed sex that I'm overthinking it but I don't get it.  In out in out in out faster in out in out and then done.

Yeah I think it's safe to say at this point that whatever fire had been lit in me a few weeks ago has been doused.  I'm good.

I'm tired and I have a migraine and tonight for maybe the fifteenth time I swore that I will not eat or drink any more chocolate for at least six months.  It doesn't even taste good to me right now.  Of course I've also been eating bakers chocolate so that may have something to do with it.

No more chocolate.  Can't say the same for french fries.  That craving isn't going anywhere.

Well, it might.  It's time for me to see my dr. soon and she did promise me that one more visit with my blood pressure up and she would put me on hypertension meds.  I don't want that and my recent headaches, while generally caused because I can't seem to stem the flow... I'm not going to finish that... might be caused by raised blood pressure.  The nosebleeds are part of that too.

Whine whine whine... I'm done.

If you were waiting for the whine to end, it's right here.

I got my dress for tomorrow.  I love it.  For once I didn't get anything in black or grey, I got it in red.  Yep, I got a color. I need to go to the steakhouse restaurant's website and decide what I want to eat.

Of of the things I think I need to do, I know I need to go lay down.  Whine or no whine, my head is pounding and now there are bright colors intruding in my vision. Nor can the nausea that's creeping up on me.

Stay frosty bloggers.  I'm going to lay down.  Eff this.

Oh bugger it all!!!

Have you ever had one of those moments when you just want to throw your hands in the air and just say, "Fuckit, I'm done!"  And not in an angry, pissed off at the world kind of way, just in a matter of factly, the straw hasn't quite broken the camel's back but you just can't do it anymore kind of way?  I guess that would mean a bone weary tired kind of way.

So in July, I went overnight camping with a couple of friends.  The next morning I was needed to go into work early so I ran by home and dashed back out again.  When I returned home from work that afternoon/night the police were here and apparently my alarm had been going off and the cops had been called.  I had been robbed once again.

And once again, because of my gut telling me to hide the most important stuff, the only thing they were able to get was the Wii.  At first I said fuck it, they can do without since the had the xBox.  But after a few weeks of self pity I found myself to a pawn shop on South Blvd. where they had a Wii.  No cords, no controllers, just the console.  I paid sixty five dollars and brought it home.  Then I hid it in the drawer.  I figured I would need to find a way to prepare the kids that they would have to make their Mii's again and all their Data wouls have been lost and then back it up with at least I got them a new one.

Skip forward to tonight.  The subject finally was broached and the kids were tld. They took it better than I thought and the way I hoped.  They were fine as long as they at least had a Wii.  They took it, they hooked it up and called me screaming.

Why, you ask?

Because there was all of their information right there as if the will had never gone missing.  Their Mii's, our info, our games... it was ALL there.

I paid sixty five bucks for my own damn wii.

I paid for my own wii.  Across town.

Patty advised me to call the non emergency line for CMPD and tell them that I've found my own wii.  Maybe they'll go with me back to the pawn shop where the report can be shown and since it was my property to begin with, they'll give me my money.  Considering they bought stolen merchandise  the least they can do is give me back my money.  I'm going to ask Mommy if she will take me tomorrow.  Or at the least Thursday.

On the news of the car, it now won't start.  I'm going to junk it.  I won't put any more money into it.  I've actually just contacted the place that first fixed it up for me and asked them if they buy old VW's.  I'll see what they have to say before I call a place that more than likely shove it in a junk yard and let it rot further.

I'm not upset, I'm just...  Whatever.  Life is testing me to see how strong I am and I refuse to give in.  I'm not going to buckle.

Cooked dinner for the girls tonight.  Fried Whiting and french fries.  There goes my fatty meal portion for the month.  They told me they miss me being home and they love it when I cook.  Guilt trip much??  I must endeavor to actually cook on my nights off from now on.  I know they enjoy it.  I think next week we'll have roast beef.

Sigh...

At least life is NEVER boring around me.

Stay Frosty bloggers.  I'm going to finish out season two of Call the midwife...

Ugh...

Randomness tonight...

1. So watching netflix... I've fallen in love with this BBC show called Call the Midwife about women who delivered babies in East London in the 1940's.  Love it.  But like all English shows, it has a Christmas episode.  American Television doesn't show this.  AT ALL>  Why not?  WHat does American television have against the Christmas episode of English shows?  They act like they don't exist all together and just go right on to the next season and the viewer is left with a million questions.  Like Downton Abbey.  If I hadn't wisened up and looked up the Christmas episodes, I would never have even half the answers I do now.  Ha, you thought I was going to give a spoiler.  Phooey on you.

2.  Watching Once Upon a Time tonight.  In true ABC style, they managed to turn the innocent tale of the sorcerer's apprentice into a dark and twisted tale.  Yea!  You caught my sarcasm.  I know you did.  I don't have any other opinion than to sit here with my mouth all twisted up in disgust.  But still I watch the show.  It's like my soap opera.

3. I have the next three days off.  Not sure how I feel about this but it's not going to change while my car is a very large piece of shit.  So I'm going to do something constructive with my time.  I'm going to binge watch Call the midwife with a side of Walking dead and if I'm not completely out of my fool mind by Tuesday night I *might* clean out my DVR.  I will be out of my mind.  This is not negotiable.  Since I;ve started working, I don't really want to be home.

4. Which leads me to randomness #4.  I don't really want to be at work either because I live there and that's not good.  People who live t work only tend not to have any other life.  I want another kind of life.

                         


I want the life that the beginning of this summer made me think I'd have by now.  NO, I'm not about to go into another rant.  I want to, but I'm not.  The good news is I managed not to act like every breath he took Saturday night made me want to rip his face off.  That's progress, right?  I mean baby steps.  I know I must take baby steps.  (Stop laughing)

And a friend of mine tried really hard today to make me understand that if he uses me having kids as an excuse or really won't be seen with me outside of work, he can't really be what I want.  I'm not that desperate am I?  Oh God what if I am?  No, no, I'm not.  This is the brain's chemical reaction to the serotonin that lit it up like a Christmas tree a month ago.  That's all this is.  And it will go away.  And I will be fine and I will stop thinking in the back of my mind  

I still have to give him his birthday present in a month.  I was stupid and set aside money from a couple of paychecks to buy him a carton of his favorite cigarettes a couple of times.  So now, I have cigarettes that taste like straight ass in my drawer and when I give them to him for his birthday present, he's going to still think that I'm hung up on him again.  Hopefully by them I won't be.

5. I have to be a good girl now.  Certain someone is on my Facebook now and if he thinks I believe that he doesn't use the damn thing incognito he's fallen down and hit his head.  Hah!  Nope!

THIS is why I don't say any names.  It's safer that way.

So I'm going to go and watch the Christmas Episode of Midwife and then tuck my self into bed until tomorrow.

Nighty o!

Special Customers... (And other randomness)

So uh yeah... tonight and extra special customer learned just WHY they don't generally let me talk to customers after 8 pm....

This guy came in and did his thug gangster crap to Felicia and I looked up and saw his face and figured he was messing with her and she and I were getting along today so I really thought, "He better not be messing with her..."  I went up there and he was trying to play it off like he was just messing with her but I'm pretty sure he saw my mom walk and thought he better play it off... Whatever, he got two menus and left the store.

About a half an hour later, he called FROM THE PARKING LOT to order a large pizza and 20 boneless wings but he was talking like I spoke ebonics and I couldn't understand him... I honestly thought he wanted me to put BOTH buffalo and BBQ on a ten piece wings.  To which he said,"You know what? I'm in the parking lot, I'm coming in."

My thought was, If you are the effing parking lot why not just walk in and place your order.  Followed closely by by, Be nice dette, be nice

ANYWAYS

He comes walking up to the door like he's gonna hurt someone and gets to the counter and says, "You know let me tell you like this."  And he wasn't playing either.  He was actually going to get mad at me and proceed to tell me off.  "Let me tell you like this." was the last thing he got out of his mouth before I looked him square in the eye and said "I really hope that you are playing with me because if you are about to tell me off I WILL come over this counter.  Not around it, OVER it."

The look on his face was the same look that all boys get when they've pissed off mom.  So I know he had home training by a good woman but oh man, I was so deadly serious.  He even tried to come back at me somewhat when he looked over at Falecia and said "What kind of customer service is this?"  To which I replied, "I don't have any customer service skill when customers act like that, now what do you want?"

I so could have gotten fired.  I know this and I am so thankful that my boss had gone home and that the owners weren't there.  I'm pretty sure I would have been turned out on my ear but damn, people need to understand that just because someone lied to you and told you that the customer is always right doesn't mean that I have to help support that lie.  The customer is not always right.  Most of the time the customer gets what they want because the person they are belittling has more class than to go up one side of them and down the other.

Like I said, they don't generally let me talk to customers after a certain hour.  I'm not a nice person to those who aren't nice to me and my censor guard takes a serious nap...

I really really should watch this.  One day I'm going to come across a customer who might actually complain.  But you know what, I'm not going to deny that I probably ripped them a new asshole, I'll own up because my boss knows me well enough that I couldn't perpetrate that lie on my best days.  If someone says I went off on them his first question would probably be to them "What did YOU say that caused her to rip you a new asshole?"  And you better have your story straight, too because you best be damn sure that I'm going to tell WORD FOR WORD what you said that caused me to go off.

I'm a nice person, I swear I am... NO no I don't.  My momma raised me not to swear to falsehoods.  I can be a nice person but I reciprocate what I receive and if I receive crap I WILL give you back shit.

I should not work in customer service.
I should not work in customer service.

I learned this lesson back at value city when I made a woman cry at the customer service desk because she tried to return panties that she had worn and not even bothered to wash.

I should not work in customer service.
I should not work in customer service.

I should just stay in the back and make the food and not talk to the customers.  I should do that.  I can do that.

That is what I am going to do from now on.  I'm just going to stay in the back.

Away from customers.

And make food.

For the customers.

Away from the customers.

Away from people.

Also, I want my braids back.  I miss my braids.  I know who I am with braids.  I don't know who I am with hair and I know I spent $264 dollars on these tracks and another $90 to have them put in but dammit, I want my braids back.  This crap is way too high maintenance.  I am not a high maintenance kind of girl.  I am a put it in a ponytail or let it hang kind of girl.  This crap requires combing and straightening and curling and other girly crap.

No.  Just No.  I will wash the tracks and get them sewn into Olivia's hair.  She's a girly girl  She will pull them off and be just fine and probably rock them better than I ever could.

I want my braids back.  By Thanksgiving I will have them back.  I'm so done with the pretty girl hair.
It's two am and I haven't even taken my night pills.  I'm going to go do that.

Stay Frosty bloggers.

I should go back to the nightly blogging.

So as a follow-up to last nights banshee rant againt men in general (by the way that was about one guy but he WILL remain anonymous... at least to the general public)

BUT this morning a friend of mine called me and mentioned that I was in a foul mood last night and I almost fell out of my bed laughing.  Why did I have this brain disconnect moment, you ask? Well the person I was not talking to last night acted completely oblivious to me not saying anything to him so the fact that he mentioned it to the friend that called me means that yes he noticed.  My answer this morning to was I okay because I was in a foul mood last night was the laugh and say I wasnt in a bad mood, just not talking to him.  And in some weird twisted way, it made me feel just a little bit better that said person actually noticed.

Yeah, I'm strange and stupid like that and no, I don't apologize for it.

So back to the topic, I think I am going to go back to blogging nightly because there is a lot of crap in my head that really SHOULDN'T be in there when I go to bed.  I mean really should not be there because then I have dreams that even I can't explain.  And I wake up and its like WTF.

Have you ever noticed that after Tuesday even the calendar says WTF? Serious random thought.

Im still at work.  I probably shouldn't be blogging at work but there you have it.

My car died today.  I got to the auto zone and thats where she sits.  Every time I took my foot off the gass, it stopped.  Its throwing nine codes not counting the brakes so yeah... hooptie has had her lasr hurrah at my expense.  Im so done.  Im going to call one of those places that buy junk cars and tell them that THEY can go get it.  I am not putting any more money in her.  Come to think of it, I cleaned her out yesterday just on a whim and im wondering if the dirt that I took out of her and off her was what was holding her together... and of course I just put probably the last bit of money I could spare into the tank.  Thats why I stopped filling her up.  Every time I did, she caught a case.  Note to self... just drive on fumes... lol

Im still in a good mood.

Im gonna stay in a good mood.  The tramadol might have something to do with that.

I'm gonna close this. I should go flip the make line.  Im gonna wait.  We're gonna get a pop thats gonna make it not worth doing right now.

So stay frosty bloggers I love y'all you know that?  Even when I rant and rave on you're still here.  I like that.

Gnight y'all!!

So... Men suck...

Can someone tell me why men think that they have the monopoly on Blue balls??  Is it because they think they're the only ones that have balls?  They aren't.  Women have balls, but ours are in the inside and we call them ovaries.   And while we're on lessons, guys, let me tell you, when you jump start those things, especially after they've been dormant for a couple of years, you really need to finish what you start.  And that's just advice from a woman.

Men have it so freaking lucky, I think.  They get all excited and they can go in the bathroom and jerk jerk jerk until they feel all fine and even with the world again.  Girls do that and we're nasty and dirty.  I have never once, outside of a really bad porn flick, seen a woman go into a bathroom and attempt to solve that problem on her own.  No, women wait until they get home and they pull out vibrators or hit the showers.  Why do you think detachable showerheads and extension shower lines sell so well?  Because women always have to finish what men start and are too much of a pussy to finish.

And God forbid, as a woman, I try to get said man to understand that it would be nice if he finish what he started.  Oh no!  Evil!!  Stay away from this one boys!!  She's gonna insist that you NOT leave her all hot and bothered and then pretend like you didn't do a damn thing wrong.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that things went the way they went or rather are going.  IS it still counted as in motion when you have stopped moving altogether?  Whatever.  I have kids and even though I knew it was coming and tried to avoid it by saying up front I didn't want one, EVERY SINGLE MALE ON THE FUCKING PLANET seems to think that if you date a woman with kids, she's going to expect you to want her kids and love them and be daddy.

NO, men.  Just NO!  In big bold capital letters NO!  Stop that!  If by chance there are any men reading this blog please listen and listen well.  If a woman outright says to you, and I QUOTE, "I am not looking for a father for my kids.  They already have one.  One that loves them.  I'm looking for someone for ME."  SHE MEANS IT!!!  She's not just saying that so that you'll walk into her trap and maybe some women might actually be classless enough to try that line and then get you hooked but a real woman, a woman who already has her battle scars from foraging into the world of men, is not going to say that stream of sentences lightly.

So men, please stop using the excuse "You have kids and I'm not sure I'm ready for that".  It's old and it's tired and it put you in a barrel with all the other no ball sac having assholes that used that same lame excuse to get out of getting to know a woman and that isn't really someplace you want to be.

You all keep claiming that divorced black women are all bitter.  Stop and take a minute and think about why you think we are.  Because we don't put up with bull shit?  Because when you throw an excuse at us, we don't just accept it and believe you?  That when you do something stupid she expects you to own up to your actions and be a man?  Because she wants you to hold her and make her feel like an actual flesh and blood woman and not a three dollar whore?

We aren't bitter.  We're battle weary. There's a difference.  A big one.  And NO, we aren't holding you responsible for what our ex's did to us... well I'm not going to speak for all women... MOST of us aren't making new men pay for past men's mistakes.  If you act the same, it's not our fault that we recognize time repeating itself and want to get off the ride.  My ex was a son of a bitch (I mean that so literally I could stitch it on a sampler)  He lied, he cheated, he belittled me, and he played so many mind games that when I finally got out of the house of mirrors long enough to breathe fresh air, I had no idea who I was.  The night we actually started our honeymoon, he was actually INSIDE ME and told me he was sorry, but he planned to cheat on me.  He'd always wanted a white girl. And he was in the navy so to him, going to different ports was giving him that opportunity.

But I'm not bitter.  Nope.  I learned my lesson.

Back to the topic at hand.

Women are not just machines that you men can just turn on and off at the flick of a switch.  Okay, maybe some women are and they kinda give women who have a little more grounding a bad name but whatever.  If you start something, please please please finish it.  If at first you don't finish (maybe because a very unwelcome visitor showed up) go back and finish when you can.  And don't make her wait long.  What will happen is that everytime she looks at her shower head, the damn thing will cry, "Rape!!  Stalker!! Stay away from me!!" or just dribble water as if it's crying because it's had enough.  If batteries are on her grocery list every time you glance at it, you're taking too long.  And no, the batteries aren't for the Wii remotes or the Xbox controllers.  They're for the little friend that she keeps hidden in a drawer so that when you pussy out, she can get some kind of relief.

Okay, I've ranted myself out.  The banshee inside my head has screamed all the obscenities she had.  I don't feel like doing anyone bodily harm out of sheer frustration anymore.  We're all good.

Seriously men, the moral of tonight's rant was basically this:  Finish what you start or don't freaking start it.  We all have blue balls but some are just a little harder to get back to normal.  And stop being pussies.  And using people's kids as excuses not to get to know a woman.  Grow up and be men.  That's all women want.  For you to be a man.  The one we were attracted to in the first place.  Just be him.  Let stuff fall into place and happen the way it's going to happen.  Stop thinking she's making you pay for shit another man did to her.  She's not.

I'm going to bed, bloggers.  I'm spent and have to be at work tomorrow at one.  I seriously think an espresso shake might actually be needed for the first time in a long time.

On the bright side I did a little retail therapy a few days ago and they go here today.  Way too big for me in retrospect but I kinda feel better...

Rotator cuff issues...

So last night was fun... I lifted a stack of Medium sheet outs and my left should screamed no.  Not just no, but NO!  NOPE!! NOT HAPPENING! Very nearly dropped the sheet outs on the floor but managed to get them back on the sheeter table because honestly, I'd be damned if I was going to have to sheet out more because I dropped them on the floor.  What followed were two hours of some of the most excruciating pain I have had to endure for the last few years.

I couldn't even raise my left arm above my head and when I did... OMG...''John wanted to send me home but what it took me about an hour to be able to say through my pain and fighting of tears was that if I couldn't stand to get the thing over my head, there was no way I could drive home.  And I was not kidding.  Hooptie has some fine points and she lets me get away with a lot of crap I should not be doing while driving her, but driving her with intense pain in one shoulder is not something she would let me do.  The trip home would have been probably similar to labor pain just up top.  And I would it would have taken me forever because I would have had to pull over onto the side of the road to cry... a lot.

Somewhere around eightish, I raised it and put enough pressure on it to get that pop that I am sometimes rewarded with if I flex it out enough and ignore the tears.  Believe me this happens about once a month, it's not something I can do every time this pain returns.  But anyway, I was rewarded with the pop and the pain almost magically dissipated for the moment.  Think... orgasmic like relief.  Yes I said that and yes I meant that.  If I had been alone in the store at that moment the sigh and moan that would have left my mouth unchecked would have made passerby think I was getting pounded in there.  But I wasn't alone and only a faint moan left my mouth.  I do have some class... I may not show it often but it's there.  But don't tell my mom or she'll think her lessons on how to be a lady stuck and I'll be expected to show class from now on.

I know it's my rotator cuff because about a month or so ago I went to an urgent care clinic and they looked at it enough to tell me it was that but they couldn't do any more because my dr was denying permission to be seen outside of her office.  But here's the funny thing... I can't get an appointment with Lewis because her office counts that as my yearly visit not a sick appointment.  I have already used my yearly visit for 2014 and will have to wait until 2015 to see her again.  Cause you know, being in a massive amount of pain for months on end isn't something that your doctor should care about when you are on medicaid.

I looked online and it said something about taking ibuprofen and naproxen to relieve swelling and pain.  I took a motrin 800 last night and was able to sleep without waking up in pain.  Usually when I pull it the wrong way, the following five or so nights result in broken sleep because I roll over on it or lift my arm above my head in my sleep and wake up immediately crying.  The fact that the night of the pain coming back full force I was able to sleep with ibuprofen means that it's not torn as badly as I thought it would be and that if I go to the er (Since Lewis is denying that this needs to be looked at )they will give me more motrin 800 or naproxen and most probably put me in a sling to keep it still.

I have been dealing with this pain for almost five months now.  To say it comes and goes would be wrong.  The pain is ALWAYS there, it just depends on how bad the pain is.  When I do something stupid like oh say... my job... and try to move a stack of sheet outs  Or try to lift a pizza from the oven (Seriously I couldn't lift the XL's to save my life last night and a works pizza... fuggetaboudit...) it comes roaring back.  Usually I'm able to hide how bad it hurts, last night I was not.

Hey, I'm not always wearing my superwoman cape... It clashes with my new Howies shirt...

So I have to get dressed and get something to eat so that I can take the motrin and or aleve.  Can you take those together?? and get to work.  The getting dressed thing is going to take the longest because of the motion over my head.  Like I said, if this pain goes into tomorrow I'm just going to say fuck it and go to the er.  I wonder if Mommy can drive me.  I will have ask her.  Or the ex I can ask the ex to take me and come back for me.

Also I just found my flixeril and I'm hoping that the muscle relaxer will take some of the edge away for tonight.  We will see.

That being said, I have three hours to get ready... Better get started.. Yay!

Stay frosty bloggers.

So its been a minute since I blogged from my phone...

I cant say that I have a reason for this other then I really just don't use my phone to blog, i usually wait until I get home to write my feelings down the computer. But today, I'm feeling like another manic period is creeping up on me.  I can honestly say that I have not had one that threatened to hit this hard in a while.  Im sitting here at work about to go in and I'm outside crying like a baby.

Why? I dont fucking know.  I dont even think theres a reason except...

I feel so totally alone right now.  Like stranded on a desert island kinda lonely.   And its NOT the "I really need a man" kind of lonely.  Its the "I dont know what the fuck I mean but I FEEL it" kind of lonely.

There is no one that I can talk to.  Ninety nine percent of my friends turn my bad days into their own personal therapy session when I take the chance and talk like everyone urges me to.  This is precisely WHY I keep all of my feelings bottled up inside.  Just about every time I go to tell someone about whats making me feel like shit I get, "I know cause like I..." and thus begins them telling me about their craptastic day/week/month/endless moment.

And im too much of a chickenshit to just open mu mouth and say that for once I don't give a goid goddamn about anyone else right at the moment.

Plus im in PMS week so the hormones and the emotions are ganging up on me which isny makinh anything any better.  If anything its making them worse because the need to tell people to shut up and for once be the friend I need them to be instead of dumping shit on me is something thats really hard to control.

I wonder if anyone else feels like that and what they do about it.  I wish I still had a therapist that would sit and listen unobjectively but stupid me decided I didnt need her.  Nor did I need the meds that kept me on an even keel with the world...

So I have fifteen more minutes before I have to go into work and pretend like I feel like being a people person today.

What I wany to do is to curl up in my bed with my dvr remote and stay where the world kicked me.  Not say anything to anyone and not do a damn thing.  Wonder if I can convince Ambs to let me go.  Pretty surr thats a no...

Sigh... let me get my ass up and get in there.  The sooner begun, the sooner done...