Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dreaming

I have remembered my dreams from the last several nights. I am not sure why I am all the sudden remembering anything, more-or-less my dreams. I would assume that it's because every time I roll over in bed my cast hurt, sticks, whacks a dog, falls of the bed or some other such nonsense. Totally pissing me off. What pisses me off even more is my dreams. They have been weird sexual or drama laden crap that disturbs me enough that I can't go back to sleep. What the hell? I need my beauty sleep.

Take last nights dream for example (not that I plan on boring you with my whole boring dream), I was waiting, waiting, waiting for something. I never knew what the something was but I needed it so, had to have it, longed for it even. And someone I thought was my friend had whatever it is I needed and they knew I needed it. They kept calling and saying "I will be there", "I am on my way" but then never shows up. Then Tony looks at me in this dream and says, "Your friendship with them is over. They are no longer your friend. You can wait forever, but things will never be the same." I woke up with this emptiness in my soul, feeling almost like part of me is lost, and sure that Tonys words to me were true.

Monday, September 28, 2009

GreenCast Powers Activate!


This is a picture of my new "leg" if you will. This is called a knee-walker, some moron invented this so skinny, coordinated people could get around while they were non-weight bearing. I can just see them now with the wind blowing in their hair (straight, shiny, blonde, clean hair), smiling as they push themselves along with ease. Shopping and going out to eat, maybe even to work with this handy device. Wow, once again wouldn't it be great to be skinny, those skinny people get all the breaks. What does that mean for my fat ass? Well, it means, that I am a youtube video in the making. My snazzy blue thing only wants to go right, like a broken shopping cart. So as long as I am only going right I can do so with ease. Circles, I have those down-pat, no problem-o. Going straight? Well, straight is for suckers and I ain't no sucker.

Being non-weight bearing these past couple of days has taught me a few lessons that I think will really help me in life:
One is do I want it or do I need it. I have to REALLY need something to get up because it is a pain in my knee and leg and my left wrist (for some weird reason?). Wants, well, I have to save those for when Tony is around and I can only get so many of those wants met and you know what. I have not died because my wants have not been met.

Two, do I really want something to eat or am I just bored? I am not really coordinated enough to cook. I found this out yesterday. I tried sitting and cooking and who knew there was a height requirement for cooking? I didn't until I about burnt my face off. Not a good thing. I like my face. It is really a handy thing to have. I see with my face, talk with my face, I do all kinds of shit with my face. And I want to keep it that way. I can get snacks and make a sammy but it is not easy to get it anywhere and I don't want to look like a pig, sitting in a chair eating in front of an open fridge ya know?

Three, don't take using the bathroom and personal hygiene for granted. And I know you do because I did. Try wiping your ass one legged, I dare you. Skinny people this might not be a problem for you, so fuck you. Wanna take a bath, well just jump on in there. I can't. Tony has to help me in and out of the tub. And you know what he told me yesterday when I wanted a bath??? You are not doing anything to get dirty, so you don't need to bathe everyday. Which is probably true but I wanted a bath damnit.

Four, if someone wants to help you, let them. There are times I need help and now is one of them. It is hard to be a control freak and let go. I really don't have any control over anything. I don't really think anybody does. I can attempt to control my attitude and not be a total pain in the ass but other than that, eh it is what it is.

Five, don't stick anything in your cast. I did, the dull end of a flyswatter and guess what? I still scratched my ankle with it. Now I get to go to the dr and have this cast removed and another one placed on my leg (maybe it won't be neon green). Hopefully, I won't get an infection because I was stupid.

I suppose that is all for now. I really, really, seriously, need to be working on my paper. I have no excuse not to have it done.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Blogging because what else can I do?

Sometimes when I blog I forget that people actually read the crap I post. This isn't some super-secret diary. This is the internet. I don't ever mean to hurt peoples feelings. I am very emotional, probably overly so, and sometimes I just vomit out what is in my head. But I don't always go into gory detail, thus feelings being hurt. That is never my intention but as the saying goes "the road to hell is paved with good intentions".

Tonight I was reading other peoples blogs and boy, let me tell you there sure are some good blogs out there. I was reading the blogs that Kasey subscribes too and some of them are really great. These woman are married to the military and raising families alone and have spouses overseas or away. They have to move around the country or to other countries and they just do it. I am amazed and in awe of their strength and determination. It makes me ashamed of all my whining. Not that I plan on stopping whining anytime soon, as I feel that whining adds to my charm. (now I am really mad because this stupid thing won't let me post a pic, and it was perfect!!!)

Well, now that I have fought with posting this picture that will never be posted, I forgot what I was going to say. And let me tell you it was pure brilliance.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Stealin' Coolness

Writing a letter to my 1989 year old self, a rather cool, stolen idea.

Dear Angie,
I am writing this letter to you and I really would appreciate if you would listen to each and every word and fully grasp and understand the meaning behind them. You are 15 years old and a sophomore in high school. You are full of self-doubt, self-loathing and fuzzy hair. What you don't realize is you are beautiful, smart and funny. People like you,I think, who can really tell in high school?
What I want you to do is be true to yourself. So what you like metal music and it makes you feel bad because everyone else likes pop or country. Who the hells cares? It really doesn't matter because people are still going to be your friend. You read a lot, I know it is because it takes you away from your real life but real life still happens. Be present in it, be involved. You don't have to be on the outside looking in, you can be a part of what is going on. People love you, you can't avoid the pain, it just keeps following you.
Lying doesn't make or keep friends. Your friends will see right through those lies and in the end you will look stupid. You can't be anyone other than who you are. It's not possible. Have some faith in you. Yeah, you have to shop in the big woman's section and yes, Stacy Satterfield will never wear a shirt again because you wore it is school. Who the hell is she in the big picture? Your Gran bought you that shirt at the Mall and you love it. It is pretty on you, wear it and laugh.
Yes, your mother will leave you waiting or bumming a ride from various functions. She is an alcoholic and this demon will haunt you your whole life. You can't make your mother stop drinking or John from being mean. Yeah they fight but it's not your fight. It is embarrassing but it never stops. Accept it and move on. And she leaves you when you are a junior to live by yourself. It changes things, be ready.
Respect yourself. Don't act like a whore because you aren't. Your chubby and it sucks to be the fat girl in high school but it is what it is. Save yourself, just because a boy is willing and quite able to play feely-milly doesn't mean he loves you, or that he will like you tomorrow. More likely he will deny kissing the fat girl and well, it hurts but that is his problem not yours. And if it feels wrong, it is.
Visit and love your grandparents. They raised you and they won't be around forever. I know Gran drives your crazy about your mother. I still don't know what to tell you about that. Other than you can't avoid unpleasant situations forever. Even though as an adult you still try that tacit. It doesn't work. Eventually, you have to face your problems and your mistakes. No one likes it but it happens.
It is ok to not like people. You are going to find out you don't like lots of people throughout your lifetime. But remember it is ok for them not to like you either. And that is also ok.
Keep only those friends that make you feel good about yourself around you. This is a hard one. If someone is cruel and makes you uncomfortable, don't hang around them. Social suicide to go against the popular kids in high school, hell yeah it is, but it is worse to compromise yourself. Be friends with whom you want to be friends with. And those that don't want to be your friend for whatever reason, well, to hell with them.
You are a role model for your younger siblings. Remember that, your interactions with them does matter. Be kind and loving because there will be a time you will be all they have.
High school is confusing enough and life for you is harder than it should be so be easy on yourself. Love yourself, respect yourself, and hang in there. High school doesn't last forever. OH yeah about the frizz, it never goes away and shaving the side of your head, not a good plan! Love you, your 35 year old self....

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

DIE UHC DIE

I absolutely hate insurance companies. They are fuckers and all should die. I know this is harsh and *gasp* I have insurance, I am one of the lucky few. I know, seriously though what do they pay for? I pay them approx $250 monthly, then I have some crazy $3000 deductible that amazingly grows each time I talk to the insurance company. Wanna hear the crazy part? I pay for a $500 deductible plan. Yeah, and I have way used $500 in health care this year. Oh yeah and I LOVE, love, Love calling the insurance company with questions. The lady on the phone actually told me, "you sure use your insurance a lot". "Anthony had a lot of large Dr. bills". Really you stupid twat?! I didn't know that, we didn't think he had cancer or nothing. STUPID bitch. It's insurance you use it for when you are sick. I have tried to bleed to death earlier this year and now have a stress fx. Not only is work giving me shit over my choice of dr.s now you are going to have the gall to say "boy you sure use your insurance a lot?" FUCK YOU! I am so furious right now.

So the whole reason I call is because I have met my deductible so I thought and UHC didn't pay for my last several dr visits and my MRI of my foot. Which is not cheap btw is it appx $1515.49 in health care bills, not counting other bills I have floating around. I call them after I add up all of my bills and look at my account summary and my conversation goes as such "I have paid my $500 deductible and I have met my $3000 HRA something or other and I don't understand why ya'll didn't pay my bill" The lady goes, "Well, you still have $498 left until the 90/10 plan kicks in". I am like "No, i have met my part of the plan, you must be confused". Which then she launches into the fact that "boy, you sure use your insurance a lot" (because I like being sick you stupid twat, die, bitch, die). Which I ignore. Then she goes on to explain that the $500 wasn't a deductible at all! It is my access points and I have to pay those first then I have a $5000 HRA plan. I am like ok, well why isn't that paying for my stuff? She says, there is no money in that account. Why, I say. Well, because you spent it all. So I am back to well, I met my deductible and now I am really confused because she is telling me I have another $1000 deductible that just magically fucking appeared. So then I say, well, I have met the $6000 max out of pocket according to this thing online. She is like No, you haven't and well, I guess you get the point. She actually told me that 500+500+5000 doesn't equal $6000. That is when I just hung up.

So now, I am just fuming. I have yet another Dr. appointment today that they are not going to pay for because I have an ever growing deductible. And everyone wonders why I am for universal health care.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

4 hours of sleep

What am I feeling this morning, why am I up this early? I guess it is because I am overly anxious. This whole foot/boot ordeal has got me singing the blues. Who knew I was such a whiny baby? Wait, don't answer that! I lay in bed and literally work myself up into a frenzy about whatever stupid shit I can. It is dumb. Half the time it is not even stuff that has any bearing on my life or is it even stuff that is going on. I stress about stuff like this:
1. Shit that happened about 500 hundred years ago that no one but me remembers or does it affect (effect?) their life
2. My family. I can't fix my family. They are broken. I can't make them do the right thing, I can't make them something they are not, which would be whole or healthy. What I can do is stress myself to a heart attack or stroke over them. Cry endlessly about the same shit they do over and over and still act surprised when my feelings are hurt. What I can't do is accept them for what they are. I strongly feel that acceptance is agreement and I don't agree with how they live their lives. So I chase the dream that one day I will wake up and someone will have done the right fucking thing, not the thing that made their life easier and mine more miserable.
3. My weight. I am who I am. And what I am is huge, fat, large, big, fluffy or what have you. I don't make much of an effort to change this so why stress. What do I dream about? Surgery, weight loss, walking without being short of breath, sitting in a chair in public and not worrying about if I can fit in it or if I am going to break it. I dream about people never saying to me again "Why don't you just sit on them". That is the RUDEST, most obnoxious thing you can say to a big girl. I mean really? You think it is ok to say that? I don't look at you and say "hey why don't you go rub some ugly on them, or give them your stupid." It's never appropriate to say. Never. Oh yeah and when you are talking about someone being superhugelyfat don't say "Well I guess they were your size" WTF?! Really, I mean really.
4. My job. I won't go into much detail here because co-workers and the such read my bogs and I don't want to end up on the internet with the label "gets fired and suprised". Lets just say I am not happy and I am working hard on that.
5. Das boot. I worry about my foot, am I going to end up in a cast. Will I be non-weight bearing, how in the world will I deal with that, blah blah blah.
Do I have any actual control over any of this stuff, nah. But I let it eat me alive. I probably could work on my weight some but that is a whole other story.

So here I sit with sleepy eyes and a heavy heart. I am not as depressed as I was a few days ago but I am still down.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Fuss, snort, complain, whine

I am really, extraordinarily hateful currently. I am so miserable that I just started crying while sitting in my driveway just because I can I guess. I did not want to get out of my car and walk into the house. I felt panicked almost. Why? Tony beating me? Nope, I think I am having a 35 y/o crisis. I don't know what I am doing or why I am doing it. I am going to college and I feel like it is a waste of my life. I go to work and still feel like a waste. I feel like I am unable to give my patients 100%. It's not them or work, it's me. I am just worn out. I shouldn't be. I have an easy life compared to most. No kids, no huge house payment. I have a job and groceries. My needs are being met, I guess. Why am I not satisfied with that? What is wrong with me that I can't be one of those happy, perky, god loves me and loves you kind of people? Why is stuff never enough. When will I be full? What is wrong with me?

I wonder if it is just not because I am overly tired. I have bitched endlessly about wearing das boot but at least I have a foot to wear it on and a place to wear it to. I have this love/hate relationship with das boot. I hate it when it's on and I love to take it off.

Well, I have about 20 million more bitches but I am done. This is trash and doesn't deserve to be written or read.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Wedded Bliss


Well, my oldest-younger brother David (he is 24...) tied the knot last night. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding. David married a wonderful girl, Amber. I think they are about the same age but to be totally honest I don't know for sure. But that is not really neither here or there. It was a nice, relaxed wedding and I could have kicked myself for getting so wound up about what to wear. It's hard though being someone of size deciding what to wear. I just can't run out to the mall and pick something up. Pretty much I order all my clothing online and sometimes it is a win and sometimes, not so much. I ordered a dressy blouse and a dress. The blouse, looked pretty cute if I do say so myself. The dress, well, it looked like a night gown. I don't understand clothing designers. I am fat this does not mean I am 6 foot tall, have DDD boobs and super long arms. I am short, small chested and have t-rex arms. I just want clothing that fits and looks nice. I understand it's a challenge but hell, I am not the oddity here. Blah, it just pisses me off.

So we stayed all night in a hotel because they got married in Louisville and I love staying in hotels. Or at least I thought I did. I used to maybe? I dunno. And to think Tony and I had an all out war over staying all night. I finally won and we stayed and I was miserable the whole time. I decided about half way through the reception that I wanted to pass a kidney stone. Nothing like being almost 3 hours from home, in a strange place and peeing blood. I was so mad. I am like why can't things ever just be normalish for me. I mean really. I can't dance because of my foot. I don't really drink because, well, my family pretty much has me turned off on the whole drinking thing. And now I am going to pee blood as well?! Really? This is bullshit.

But we are now home, safe and sound. Lil puppy and Bea are happy we are home. We left them alone, all night, for the first time ever. I missed the doggies. It's back to work for me tomorrow. So wish me luck.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Always chosen last

So some things never change. Today I have intro to theatre and we had to pair up, of course, my group was just lined up waiting to be paired off. You know how much I stick out in a line up? I mean seriously? Come on, not only am I short, fat and have this strange fluff of hair, I have a big fucking pirate boot on. Really, when I was walking across the stage floor, I sounded just like a pirate, step, clunk, step, clunk, damn, repeat. All I needed to complete the look was a freakin' hook or a parrot. And I hate birds. Nasty, shitty, chirpy, creatures. EWW. But I digress, what was my point? Oh yeah, I was for sure going to be picked last! I knew it. Story of my life. No one even looked my direction. I am not invisible, I am fat. Get that? Fat is not the secret to invisibility (...or is it?...) at least look at me damnit. I look at you with all your acne, bad tat's, greasy hair, cellulite (who knew young people had cottage cheese asses?) and ugly feet (it was flip-flop weather and yuck, can we said pedi?). And guess I was in pimpin' 101 and just didn't know it because all the theatre dorks had on hats? Who knew. Hey I kinda had that pimpin' swagger down!
Oh yeah, so I keep getting off the point. I wasn't picked last. I know hard to believe. Some lady who I thought was young but just looked old picked me, pretty much right away. I guess she figured we are in the same age bracket or I wasn't threatening looking. Not sure. But it still makes me nervous being picked for anything. I don't want to be picked last unless we are running a race or some shit. Pick me last, sure, I am all over that.

Well, I suppose that is really all I have left to say...and my belly hurts. Shouldn't have eaten that can of citrus fruit.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Fear, My only true friend

I am one of those lame fearful-type people. I stay at a job I pretty much despise because it's safe and I know it. I live close to my family (well, not too close, I am fearful but not crazy) because I am not brave enough to up and move (like those I know, Kasey). I stay fat because fat is safe. I know fat. People tell me I am pretty as I am and I can't imagine how that would change if I were thin. Lame huh? I am sure there are a thousand other reasons I chose to stay fat but those are for another day. OK?

I wish I had more to say but tonight my story is not really my story. The story is Tony's. He is the one having a hard time. He is the one that wants to move. Far away from this place. Leaving behind hurt and betrayal, so he thinks. What I don't think he understands is life follows you no matter where you go or what you do. Someone out there never lives up to your expectations of them. They hurt you or make you confused. It's just the nature of people. So that is what I tell myself so we don't have to leave. So that fear keeps us in shittown ohio. In a dead place that is just rotting from it's small mindedness, it's drug addiction, it's own sickness.

Maybe things will change. Maybe I will change. Maybe not. It's not my call at this point. My life is never my own.