Drive-Ins, Football and the Honey Badger

Oh noes!  It's Thanksgiving week.  The end is nigh!!!  All the cooking and cleaning I have to do.

Hah!  Right.

This is what I've been given permission to buy at the store for my family's dinner:  A box of Wheat Thins, whipping cream, two (that's two) Bosque pears, and sweet tea.  CAN YOU HANDLE THAT??  It could get dicey here, but I think I'm up to the challenge.

So I had a fanfreakingtastic weekend.  Friday night we went and saw "Breaking Dawn" at the drive-in and Holy Zeus it was horrific.  We were out there just riffing it to death, drinking Jack and Coke and huddled under our blankets since the wind was a cold bitch.  Sadly no fight broke out, and I felt like I needed to start one so my 17-year-old nephew didn't feel let down.  He and I were in my Jeep following his parents, and naturally they paid for us.  But of course I have to jack with people so when we pulled up and the dude told us to go on in, I was like "What?  Why don't I have to pay?"  And he told me the car in front of me had already.  And then I said "But I don't know those people!  Who the f#!k!!"  The poor guy looked like he was going to be ill, and my nephew is over there just snickering because he knows me so well.  Finally, I gave in and fessed up, but he will never be the same. 

I'm also the girl that will go through Jack in the Crack and when they ask me if my order looks right on the screen, I'll tell them I have no way of knowing because I can't read.

Saturday I went to a college football game with a couple of guy friends.  He's a huge CSU fan and they were playing TCU.  We all dressed up in green and hit the road for Fort Worth with plenty of beer and ready to tailgate.  We were cutting people off if we saw their cars had purple TCU stickers on them, trash talking then driving away. 

Hey, I never said I was mature.

Security only came to warn us once, but I have to say I was very disappointed.  This was my first college football game, and having seen how rowdy they are on "College Game Day" I was expecting some serious fun shit to go down.  Alas, it was just people sitting in their seats, no paint or anything except for these guys in thongs and painted purple.  That was the highlight of the game.  That and us causing trouble just to see if anyone would start something with us. 

We left early and headed back to Big D, and I got carsick from all the damned stopping and starting as they looked for an In & Out Burger.  I'd never eaten there, and hearing how most of my friends say it's the new crack, I was looking forward to it.  Meh!!  I've had better burgers from Whataburger!  The fries were good, and what I was able to drink of my chocolate shake because someone felt the need to snag it was yummy, but I was not impressed.  I was expecting this huge neon sign of 20 different types to choose from, and it's only three. 

Sunday was Thanksgiving with friends.  I tried not to eat too much at the early afternoon one because I had another one later that evening, but it didn't work.  Damn you Mac & Cheese!!! 

I bought a Christmas wreath the other day and you'd think I'd brought about the Apocalypse with the stunned reactions from the people who know me best.  True, I'm not really into decorating my house for the holidays.  My mom and sister do it so much that it looks like a Snowman threw up all over the place.  But it never looks tacky.  The one time I tried, tree and all, it just had no style.  But the wreath was too cute to pass up, and they're all like "Don't put it up until after Thanksgiving."  Duh. 

Ack!  Almost forgot to tell you about the Honey Badger.  Some dude backed into my car, and when he heard my friend and I honking at him he drove off!  Lucky her car wasn't on because I would have pressed her foot to the gas and we would have been on the news.  Then his friends are trying to tell me I didn't see what I saw.  Right...that paint nick just got there by itself.  The Honey Badger is fine, I'm pissed that he fled.  And even more when his friends started hassling us.  I don't have a problem getting white trash in public.

Well, I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving.  I've got to work that day, but get off at 11 am so it shouldn't be too bad.  I just hope I'm ready for the responsibility of Wheat Thins, whipping cream, sweet tea and pears.  If you don't hear back from me, it's because I cracked under the pressure. 

Forwards Backwards Upwards Downwards Bottom to the Top

My blog title has nothing whatsoever to do with this post, but I've got "Alice in Wonderland" stuck in my head (the Disney version) so there ya go.  If I have to hear it, so do you.  :D
Goth.  Freak.  Weirdo.  Crazy.  Jock.  Brain.  Square Peg.  Nutter.  Wacko.  Bitch.  Asshole.  Slut.  Prude.

Labels.

You ever find yourself acting like the labels that were given to you, rather than who you really are? 

And no, just a couple of those are my labels up there.  I'll let you figure out which ones.  ;)  Although in junior high I was considered a New Waver, which is the light side of Goth.  We who listened to Pearl Jam and Nirvina, wore Doc Martins with knee-high tights, but I did brush my hair.

I think we get so wrapped up in being who other people expect us to be that we forget who we are supposed to be.  I know I'm definitely guilty of it, especially with men. On, those clever bastards.  But I am working on overcoming that. 

Anyhoo...these are the things going through my mind thanks to that new freaking pill I'm on.  I still have mixed feelings about how it's affecting me mentally.  I'm not denying that I'm sleeping better than I have in years, but that doesn't mean I'm enjoying the fog being lifted.

On a lighter note, we are taking the Honey Badger to the drive-in to watch "Breaking Dawn."  Yes, yes...we know.  But we go to riff on it, and in the hopes of seeing another white trash, drag out bitch fight like last time.  Two chicks going crazy on each other.  It was AWESOME

Annie Get Your Gun....or Your Jeep

During a conversation with my sister and an elderly gentleman, the age-old tradition that has been passed down to me by my forefathers was brought up...Squirrel killing. 

My sister was telling us the story how she'd hit a deer on her way home from a trip, and how it jacked up her car and that she had never, ever hit an animal before in her life.  And that's when I informed them that I run over squirrels on purpose. 

That's right.  If they don't get out of the way, I don't swerve to miss them. 

Some may say that's animal cruelty, but I'm not like ramming into trees to send them flying and then picking them off one by one.  Or sitting in my parent's backyard with a BB Gun shooting them off of my mom's birdfeeder.

True, it's a lesson to all the squirrels out that that lived in the house I was raised in.  They would get stuck in the walls and you could hear them dying with each horrible last breath they took at one am in the damned morning, or fighting in the attic with each other over a nut or something.  So yes, I do see it as "This could happen to you if you even think about coming back into the house again."

And believe me, I love animals.  If I wasn't allergic to have of the gods creations, I would have been a vet.  But squirrels...there's something about how they just stay in the road when they see cars coming, daring you.  Taunting you.

That Geico commercial isn't far off...

Jeans, Asses, Videogames and Other Craziness

I can't figure out what to hate more:  My ass or the jeans that try to mold themselves to them.  It's not like I have a ginormous booty, but there's some junk in the trunk that can bring the boys to the yard when need be.  But I also have extremely skinny legs.  Like the gods wanted to torment me even further by giving me these damned chicken legs to hold up curves that no petite mortal should suffer with.  I'm a curvy girl, and that's not a nice way of saying I'm fat.  Nope, I've got Scarlett Johansen melons up front and J-Lo in the back. 

Courtney, you say!!  Most women would kill for that.  Hah!!!  Perhaps if I was 5'8 then yes, I'd look ok.  But on my 5'2 frame it just looks like the fates threw me together at random.

Back to my chicken legs, though.  I have to buy jeans a tad bigger so they pull up over my ass, but they bulk out once you hit the tops of my thighs.  And then when summer time comes along, everyone's like Wow!  You've got great gams, but who knew under the jeans you wear.  Hmpf.  I could get them tailored, but that's just extra money to spend.  Maybe it's time for another closet raid.  Like panty raids, but jeans instead of thongs.  And don't even get me started on dresses. 

Now it's time for me to bitch about Zelda.  Not the medium for "Poltergeist" either, but one of my favorite videogame franchises EVER.  I consider myself a fairly clever gal, but these new games are meant for martians visiting from outer space to prove how vastly superior they are from us by defeating them in three hours and seventeen seconds. 

I don't think it's fun to constantly have to look up how to get through a certain part of a game because I'm supposed to magically know that I need to find the golden bugs to take to a chick named Agitha who's waiting on them to throw a party just so I can get a bigger wallet and help out a stranded Goron who is waiting for a bridge to be built so I can get the magic armor that will allow me to become Invincible.  WTF??!!  I'm playing "Twilight Princess" right now, and for the love of Zeus, I'm stumped at almost every turn.  I remember when games first came out and we didn't have anything to help us cheat.  The games were designed to be hard enough to give us a challenge, but simple enough to figure out on our own.  I refuse to give up though.

I cleaned my house the other day and now I feel like I deserve some kind of reward.  I clean maybe once a month, and trust me, my version of cleaning is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay different from yours.  Cleaning means getting rid of the clutter and throwing away all the empty coke cans and water bottles lying around.  I'm not talking about dusting and mopping and bleaching and making everying sparkle like a rainbow.  I was like "I have cleaned, so now I can reward myself with beer."  Like I need a reason to have a couple of Dos Equis...because that's the beer I prefer when I drink.

As always, give love to the cheshire cat and when in doubt ask yourself...What would Xena do?

Was That the Wrong Pill to Take?

"Ah, pierce me 100 times with your needles fine and I will thank you 100 times, Saint Morphine, you who Aeseulapus has made a God."

Really dig that quote by Jules Verne.  And no, I'm not shooting morphine, though I've had it on occasion, and while only for surgeries, I do understand the appeal.

I skipped a pill the other night due to the lateness of the hour of which I would be going to bed, and boy did I feel it the next morning...and so did everyone else.  I was bouncing off the walls, like I normally am when I don't get any sleep, and someone was kind enough to tell me I was talking with machine gun rapidity.  I was also very sick with allergies and had a slight OD on benadryl this weekend.  Benadryl and my new pill don't mix well.  In fact, my new pill doesn't mix well with a lot of things, and that's really sucking for me.

My wrist was killing me the other day so I snagged a hydro from someone and holy overdose Batman...I've never felt so horrible in my life.  And add to that the benadryl I apparently took too many of I had an atrocious weekend.  Literally had to force myself to finally get out yesterday afternoon to just go run somewhere and get a drink because I had no passion to do anything at all.  I sat on the couch, watched TV, and played videogames from Saturday afternoon until Sunday evening.  What a horrible way to spend my weekend off.  Normally I'm out and about, partying or just trying to stay active, but not this weekend.

And I didn't like it one freaking bit. 

There's not really anybody I could call and say "Hey, I'm feeling like a shut-in, do you mind if I come hang out at your place for a while?"  That just opens the door for all sorts of questions that I don't feel like answering.  Yes, I have friends, and most of them know about my...quirky personality is how I'll put it, but I still feel even more like an outcast or a weirdo if I try and explain how I'm feeling. 

My mind is totally blank up here right now.  And it's never been this way.  I know everyone is telling me that my body is re-adjusting and I'll feel like this for a couple more weeks, but DAYUM!!!  If this is what I've been missing all my life, I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision to get myself treated.  Yes, I'm sleeping.  But I'm a functioning zombie.  And who the hell wants to feel like that?

One Pill Makes you Larger and One Pill Makes you Small....

But sometimes you find something that puts you right in the middle, and there's nothing wrong at all.

So, the sleepy-eyed neurologist whose circles matched mine put me on an interesting drug Thursday.  Please, no names...the last thing I need are my friends Googling that shit and finding out what it is.  I've been on it for two days straight, and though it's too early to feel major differences, I did get five hours of uninterrupted sleep last night.  That is HUGE for me.  Y'all know how little I sleep, and it helped that I didn't have to get up for work until 6:30 this morning rather than the obscene time of 3:30 which is my norm.

It takes a bit to shake off this groggy feeling I'm experiencing for the first time, but it has been noted that I wasn't quite my frenzied self yesterday, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this is something that will work for me in the long-term.

I even promised the doctor and others that I would follow the rules to a T, and that means no drinking or other substances while I'm on this.  At least not for the first couple of weeks.  Hah!  Sure, I can have a glass of wine or a beer, but I promised I wouldn't be the hardcore pAArtier I normally am. 

I'm still a little concerned that this pill will work but I won't like how it makes me feel, and therefore stop taking it.  You hear it all the time.  Sure, it worked...but it made me feel horrible.  So far I haven't experienced any of those sensations, but I'm also only my third day.  I think my brain chemicals are re-organizing.  I'm being reset, so to speak.  And hopefully in a positive way.

For now, the White Knight still talks backwards, but I'm beginning to understand what he's saying.

In the Land of the Sleep Deprived, She with the Best Drugs is Queen

For those in the know, I don't sleep well.  Or get good "sleep hygiene" as I'm told.  ;)

Let me break it down in hours.  In a week, I'm likely living on about 12 hours.  So that's about three hours a night, and no, that's not uninterrupted sleep.  That's waking up every damned hour.  That doesn't mean I don't get in bed at a normal time (usually between 10:30-11pm), and my alarm goes off at 3:55 am.  Gone are the days where I stay up on the internet, watch tv, talk/text with people.  I feel that if I lay in bed long enough, eventually I'll fall asleep.  Hah!!!!

I use my bed for sleeping/sex only, which is what you're told to do.  I don't have any electronics in there, and I've even got some type of spray I can put on my pillow that is supposed to induce drowsiness. 

None of that shit works. 

I've tried all the sleeping pills, and while they worked for about a week, eventually my body built up a tolerance to them and quit on me.  Bastards.  How I build tolerance to those drugs, but other drugs I don't is just one of those weird things that my body does.  So I don't bother with prescriptions anymore because it's a waste of time.  I did a sleep study and it just showed I had mild sleep apnea.  DUH!  I want to know why I can't fall asleep.  My brain is on overdrive.  I'm not ADHD, I'm just extremely sensitive to sounds and activity going on around me.  Does that make any sense?

I was having a chat with my therapist and we started wondering what kind of person I would be if I got just six hours of sleep a night.  Six hours of good, hard, uninterrupted sleep.  Would I think differently, talk differently?  Would I be able to focus more and finally do things I've always wanted to do?  Like finish one of the EIGHT books I'm writing? 

Some people keep trying to label me as ADHD, Bipolar, Manic, or just plain nuts.  The one thing I know I am for sure is that I'm a chronic insomnia.  That's the only label that can be put on me.  And that affects everything else in your body, so no wonder I feel like a complete loon half the time.  Ok, most of the time.  Alright...every damned minute.

I've been tired since I was 11 years old, which is about when my chronic insomnia began.  My family and friends have no clue how I function, and to be honest, I don't either.  I guess I've just adapted, which isn't good.  I'm 32 and I'm effing exhausted.  I still go out, I still party, I never let my insomnia interfere with work, though my work allows me to catch little cat naps when I'm not on air.  If I had a typical job, I think I'd have serious problems maintaining.

I've decided on a course of action to be taken, and I'm hoping to the gods that it works.  Because if it doesn't, I'm at a loss as to what to do next.  Because if trained professionals can't help me, who the hell else can? 

In the meantime, sleep well and dream of hot men.  Ooh!  That's one thing I say about my sleep.  When I'm under, I have the best dreams.