Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Story of the Hot Tamales

Last night, after a day of shivering in bed with a fever, the only thing that sounded good to eat was Hot Tamales.

I gave Chris and Wes my request and they fought  their way into the local Target past the gaggle of last minute Christmas shoppers to pick up some food and antibiotics.  I put the seat back in the car and waited miserably.

When we returned home (almost FOUR hours after we first left for urgent care) I grabbed the box of candy and began to shuffle off towards my bed.

But there was something wrong with it.  It was a BRICK.

I shook it.  Nothing rattled.

"What's this," I held the box up to Chris and Wes.

"I picked out the hardest one for you," Wes said.

I have yet to decide whether this was an innocent, 9-year-old's comment, or a calculating, passive aggressive strike against me.

"It's HARD, because it's ruined.  It got WET,"  I yelled.  I was SO looking forward to that candy.

I continued, "SEE???  SEE,"  I jabbed my finger angrily at the obvious water damage.  I ripped open the box and displayed the hard, red lump inside.  "SEE," I screeched.

I shuffled off and crawled into bed.  I felt sick.  I felt out of sorts.  I felt disproportionately sad and pissed about this freaking box of Hot Tamales.

I didn't know what the damage was caused by.  It could have been water.  Or as far as I knew, it could have been anti-freeze or urine.

I didn't care.

I laid on my side and peeled off the Hot Tamales individually and ate them.  I ate almost half the box before I turned my attention on the sweet Chex Mix.

I worked hard for those buggers.

And they tasted good.



Allow me to vent.  

I am currently on day 3 of being sick.

Sometimes, I do confess that I exaggerate and/or make up being sick for sympathy or for a nap.

It goes something like, "Ugh, honey, I'm not feeling well.  I sort of feel like I am going to throw up."

Perhaps I might spread some black eyeshadow under my eyes to enhance the appearance of bags and dark circles.  "I need to go lie down for a little bit," I say weakly.   "Will you watch the kids?"

And I'll disappear and take a nap.  

But I am not going to lie:  this time, I am SOOOO not faking.  

I can take the 24 hour thing, but again, this is DAY THREE.   Total bull-sh**.

I had a 102 fever  and sat for a miserable 2 hours at the disgusting urgent care clinic yesterday evening to be told I had a sinus infection and an ear infection.

Personally, I think it is more than that.   He mentioned strep, but didn't do a test because I am allergic to penicillin, so I start immediately on the Z-Pack, which is the medication they use for strep.  So it would just be an unnecessary test.

I think it is a combination of strep throat, the flu, ear infection, and a brain aneurysm.  Because that is what it feels like.

I still can't swallow without a searing pain in my ears, so I'm sure I'm crazy dehydrated, too.

On the upside, I got on the scale this morning and I haven't gained any weight.  I was certain I had, what with all the cheese and candy I have been eating.

Plus, a "friend" ~ I use that term lightly~ turned me on to flavored coffee creamer (raspberry cream cheese truffle, to be exact).   The bitch.

I don't even have all of the Christmas shopping done for the kids....and the ONE BIG gift for Maggie that my husband ordered off of Ebay THREE WEEKS AGO has yet to arrive.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN not to order something off of Ebay and expect it to be here by a certain date.  Seriously.   But, it is the Wonder Pets Flyboat and isn't available to buy in stores.  So we had to pay through the nose on Ebay.

And as wonderful as my husband is, MY KITCHEN STINKS.   I KNOW he has been trying to keep it clean....thanks honey....but it smells like rotting food in here.

Thank you, dear Internet, for allowing me to complain.

And ooooooh, the stabbing pains in my head!!!!!!!!

And Maggie just turned on Spongebob!

Excuse me while I go hang myself.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Fire Starters and Bark

There's something about beginning therapy with a new psychiatrist that makes me feel like a complete tool.

I know there is nothing wrong with having a shrink.  Most people have one, and most people are on anti-depressants...aaaaand those who aren't, probably should be.

I walked into the new office yesterday morning and proceeded to fill out the kajillion pages of my history.

Since my 'tard general practitioner  refused to refill my anti-depressants (I KNOW, right?  What an douche.),  I had to bust ass and get an appointment with a REAL psychiatrist.  I'm still bitter about the general practitioner situation. And cynical.    

This psychiatrist thing was a big deal for me, y'all.  Because I have not been too keen on them since my last one told me that I wasn't "in a sorority anymore."   Ummm, yea?   Rude.  I'm NOT the Greek type.

I've been trying to get into the Christmas spirit, nevertheless, WITHOUT being properly medicated.   Which is harder than one might think, yet when making yummy treats it helps things out a tad bit.

So, as you can see, I made an obscene batch of my mother's sweet Chex Mix.

It has pecans, coconut and raisins in it...along with a brown sugar butter and vanilla sauce poured over it and cooled.

F-in' "A" it is so righteously awesome.    I'm going to be giving it out as gifts...except the family has eaten almost two bags already.  So, I better give them away very soon.

I am also making cinnamon sugar almonds and almond bark-dipped pretzels to add to my gifts I planned to hand out, but who would have thunk that "almond bark" is no where to be found at the local "Pubix," (as my dad calls it)?

Is almond bark a Midwest thing?

After wandering around for a long while, I finally asked someone who looked like he had worked there for too long.

 "Where is the almond bark?"


"I'm looking for almond bark."

"Bark is in the deli."

That didn't sound right, AT ALL.

Almond bark is an alternative to white chocolate.  It comes in a big brick that can be melted and goodies such as  pretzels, Oreos, etc. are dipped into it.  It is sweet and not anything akin to a slab of  ham.

"Almond bark is in the deli,"  I asked, suspiciously.

"Well, "bark" is in the deli.  I'm not sure about almond bark."

There was CLEARLY a disconnect.

I thanked him for being so incredibly helpful and wandered off toward the bakery, then the deli.

There was no "almond bark," nor was there any "bark."

What the hell did he think I was asking for?  I'm still wondering...what the frack is "bark?"  Is it a southern thing?  Did he think I was looking for firewood?   I'm still confounded.

I wanted to say to him, "In Des Moines, there were entire ENDCAPS of almond bark stacked six feet high and it sold like hotcakes."

So I left, with a lone bag of pretzels and no almond bark.  I would have ventured on to another store, but Maggie has decided that she will refuse to sit in a shopping cart.

When I try to forcibly PLACE her in a shopping cart, she won't sit down and screams bloody murder.

So, it's either, a.) carry her (she weighs upwards of 35 pounds now), or b.) allow her to walk.  She has no fear, however, and wanders everywhere else other than by my side.  She was particularly fascinated by cupcakes last night.  

This does not make for an enjoyable shopping experience.  It actually makes me want to hang myself.

I went to bed with  good intentions of getting up this morning to continue with my festive Christmas baking of easy snack foods that will surely add another ten pounds onto my fat ass.

But I do believe that between 11pm last night and 7 am this morning, I was hit by a truck.

The fifteen year old is already bitter that he occasionally watches his 2 year old sister while I go to the grocery store, but I asked him AGAIN ~ despite this ~ to watch her so I could go back to bed.

Maggie has a propensity now to get into her ass cream and spreads it all over her stuffed animals, walls and on the dog.   So she has to be watched uber closely.

Also, last month she almost set fire to the house  because she pulled down the toaster's lever to "on."  That would have been fine and a rather benign incident; however,  I was sorting bills and placed our property tax bill on top of the toaster. promptly set afire.

 It's wildly frustrating that I can't just have a normal toddler who will zone out in front of the television  so I can nap.  Instead, I have one that sets fires, who tries to escape and who  climbs the pantry shelves.

She is also quite different in that she doesn't care for dolls and other things that other girls are attracted to.  Instead, she carries her two Pikachus around and asks me to find Pokemon videos on my Iphone.  This is one of her favorites.  

After a nap, though, I don't feel any better.  In fact,  I feel worse.   My entire body, including my hands, aches.


I'm a little nervous because we clearly do not have a doctor to go to.  

Perhaps some more sweet Chex mix will make me feel better?  Or some good ol' carbs in the form of bread?  Or what about some boxed wine?

Yep, some boxed wine sounds like a plan.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Highlights and Snuggies

I'm sitting here wrapped in a blanket, freezing my ass off and surrounded by plants that had to be brought indoors because there was a frost warning last night.

It's just all wrong, living in Florida and all.

The beach is FIVE MILES AWAY and not even two months ago we were sweltering.  I was worrying about my pit stains and crotch sweat and every weekend  the kids frolicked happily in the surf.  I was sun-kissed.

I've been woefully uninspired to write.  And the story I could tell you that I could spin as "amusing" is still terribly disturbing to us (see #5).   The situation still stings.

Chris did a fab job on the outside lights.

I finally got around to putting up the inside lights and decorations this week.    It looks really nice, although I had to leave most of the ornaments off of the tree because Maggie is almost as bad as a feral cat and is tearing ornaments off  of the tree almost as fast as I can put them back on.

Here are some more highlights/activities of our Fall 2010 in Florida.

1.  I taught myself how to play guitar via the Garage Band application on my Mac.   It took me an entire day.   

Part of the reason I was so hell-bent on learning the guitar is that both Calvin AND Chris have been trying to learn to play, too.   I wanted to blow them all to hell and crush their testosterone driven self-esteem.  

Plus, I just wanted to say "I taught myself how to play guitar in one day."  

Now I'm playing guitar in our church praise band.   I think that the pastor's wife playing guitar is SO much less cliche than the pastor's wife playing piano...which I do play, too.   

I studied piano for years and years and guitar is so much easier.      

2.  I organized under my sink in my bathroom today, which is more astonishing if you would have seen the "before" situation.  I would open the door and shi* would literally fall out.  

About two months ago, I bought something that looked like shelving (but was still wrapped in plastic and unassembled) at a yard sale for a dollar.  I asked the guy selling it what it was, and he just shrugged, "I dunno."    Today I put it together and it was exactly what I needed to contain my out of control collection of lotions/perfumes/soaps I have acquired (see pic).

3.  I finished painting the master bathroom (that I started about 2 months ago) and began painting the master bedroom.   I touched up the spot where Maggie decorated the wall with lip gloss.  I was smokin' on fire and was a painting machine, then I ran out of paint. 

4.  A car was stolen from our next door neighbor's house last weekend while I was STANDING IN THE DRIVEWAY taking Maggie out of her carseat.   I must have been completely out to lunch because I didn't even notice that it happened until the owner of the car ran out of the house yelling, "What happened to my car?"      

5.  Our doctor completely flaked out on Chris... sort of like a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde situation.  I kid you not; we have never had anything like that happen before.   

Chris called his office and asked to speak to him personally because he  had some questions for him regarding some prescriptions.   

The psychotic freak weirdo called him back and was obviously taping the phone call.   The doctor yelled at him, insulted him and told him I was lying about what medications I was on.  The entire "thing" started about a medication that he abruptly refused to refill that I have been on for years.   

Maybe someday it will be funny, but right now I am too cynical and way too pissed off.   I'm pissed off I have to find a new doctor, most of all.  They are a dime a dozen, but it is difficult to find a good one.  Obviously

If you want to know what doctor to NEVER go to just holla.    This dude has obviously been sued before.

6.  I shot a gun for the first time.  

I mean, come on....we live in Florida.  I'm convinced that most Floridians have shot some sort of weapon by age five, and that a good 50% people are packing heat in the local Publix.   

Concealed weapons permits cost $50.00 and a class is required.  That's it.  And if you are in the military, it isn't even required that you must take the class.     

Chris took a video of me shooting a Glock 9mm, and I looked really kick ass.  Almost like Angelina Jolie in Mr. and Mrs. Smith, as far as YOU know.   

Okay...actually I looked pretty lame, but I shot the target in the nuts several times.  And I wasn't even AIMING for anything.   

During all of these shenanigans I have done not ONE lick of exercise.   I've fallen off the wagon so hard, it smarts where my large ass hit the ground.  

I will get back into it, I'm sure.

As in, probably when everyone else does after the first of the year, like a  chubby lemming.  

I'll follow the masses as they all show up at the gym on January 2nd (or the first Monday following the holiday).  Presumably after they have consumed all the Christmas candy and the leftovers in the refrigerator.     

I'll be right there with them, because if I am anything, I am a follower.   "That's a GREAT idea," is one of my favorite phrases.    

Right now, a great idea would be take a  cruise to somewhere warmer.   Because it is freezing outside again tonight.  And I don't think I am cut out for the cold.    A Snuggie would definitely be welcome for a Christmas present.