Six Pictures

Wow. I really suck at blogging. Here's what I've been doing the past couple months:

August: JennBert's Big Fat Wedding



September: Pandas in Atlanta



September: Obama in Jacksonville



October: Halloween (I was a black widow, Dick was my prey)


November: Baby Amelia


November: Thanksgiving and Fireworks


Other highlights:
Dick has been traveling for work almost weekly. This means I've spent a lot of time watching TV. And reading. (Time I could have spent blogging, I guess.) I've grown tired of Grey's Anatomy. One of my work BFF's got laid off. In fact, a ton of people got laid off. Next week I am having an endoscopy and colonoscopy because I have a random puking problem. (I am not pregnant, but thanks for considering that.) Work is stressful, but I am supposed to be thankful that I have a job. I still hate Hardee's commercials.

Movie Talk: What was up with that two-headed dog?

I saw the X Files movie this weekend. As PMG said when we left, "I want to believe this was a good movie."

Let me start by saying I was a devoted X-Files fan. (I believe we called ourselves X-Philes. God, I am a dork. I am so glad I found someone to marry me.) I videotaped almost every episode (before Season 7). I read X-files message boards. I named my boobs Mulder and Scully. I planned my wedding to David Duchovny. I even liked the first X-Files movie, even though it sucked, on principle alone.

So, I was pretty excited about the movie, though I had pretty low expectations. Why? Seasons 8 and 9, that's why. Anyway, the movie ended up being a little bit disappointing and a little bit awesome. I think they did a really good job staying true to the personalities of Mulder and Scully, and their chemistry was as strong as ever. (Actually, I think there was an extra dose of sexuality in there. But I am in love with David Duchovney, so that might just be me.) The strongest part of the movie, by far, was their relationship. The plot... well, it was not as strong as I had hoped. Most X-Files fans know that there are two types of episodes - the "conspiracy" episodes and the "x-files case" episodes. I preferred the "x-files case" shows because it was hard to keep track of all the conspiracy crap. The movie was a pretty weak "x-file case" storyline. I think the writers spent so much time working on the main characters that they forgot that we should actually care about the case and the side characters. And there were some weird plot holes that pissed me off.

****THERE MAY BE SPOILERS HERE***BE WARNED***

Examples:
In the movie, they are searching for a missing FBI agent. By the time Mulder and Scully get on the case, they've been searching for the missing agent for about 48 hours or so. And yet, halfway into the movie, they discover she swam at a local pool regularly. This is the freaking FBI! They should/would have discovered that information about a missing person, specifically one of their own, much earlier in the timeline.

They find a severed arm, and the toxicology findings include an animal tranquilizer. The psychic says he hears dogs barking around the girl. Now, I don't know about you, but that would lead me to find out everything I can about that animal tranquilizer, including if it is only available by prescription, and then find out who in the local area sells it. Like perhaps a feed store, directly across from the freaking pool where our missing FBI agent swam everyday. Hmmm... If only we had access to computers and stuff, like if we were in the FBI!!!!???

The missing agent apparently had no friends or family, cause the only "related" people we saw were FBI agents. And although the crux of the storyline is finding the agent before she dies, the audience is given very little information about her. Honestly, just being an FBI agent isn't enough. It may be enough for Mulder and Scully, but it isn't for the audience, who has no reason to care. They could have at least made her a former student of Scully, or something. Nope.

****END OF BITCHING AND/OR SPOILERS****

But, for the true X-files fan, I would have to say that it was a satisfying look into Mulder and Scully's lives. I would actually watch it again, just because it reminded me how much I loved watching these characters. Or how much I loved Mulder. Or how much I coveted Scully's haircolor. Whatever, I am a simple person.

What do I do? What do I do?

I haven't posted in a while. Why? Because I have gone 24 freaking days without my July Franklin Planner refill. And apparently I am useless without it. I am pretty sure I've just spent the past 24 days skating by on my good looks and charm. And a desperate need for a paycheck. I have more to say. Really, I do. But, I won't be able to sort it out until tomorrow when I have a couple minutes alone with my planner. We'll declare our love for each other and begin our journey towards the future.

And now a word from our sponsor, Sephora

Yesterday, I sorted and cleaned out my makeup supplies. I probably threw away over $200 worth of expired products. Now, some of you may be scratching your heads, thinking "I've never even seen Minnie wear makeup. WTF?" A little known fact about me? I have a makeup problem. As in, I spend lots of money on makeup and never wear it. And I'm not talking about the cheap stuff either. I am talking about makeup purchased at Sephora. Or MAC.

Now, as a teenager and young adult, I actually did wear a lot of makeup. And I wasn't afraid to be a little crazy with it either. But, as I stopped going out to clubs and started working more hours in offices with business casual Fridays, I set aside my sparkley indigo blue nail polish, my crazy deep burgundy lip gloss (Seriously, that was probably a good thing. I wore that shit on purpose! Without irony!) and my silver eyeshadow*, and embraced the anti-makeup look. Because I can't ever be balanced, I can only do one extreme or the other.

And for years, I didn't purchase anything. Obviously being really poor helped me avoid the makeup aisle, but when we started having a little extra income a couple years ago, I started purchasing expensive makeup and stockpiling it. (For the beauty revolution!) Now, a lot of ladies have this thing they do to themselves - its called the "I'll use/wear/do it, when I weigh XXX lbs/find the perfect mate/do that thing I'm always talking about" thing. Makeup was my "I will wear it when I am skinny" thing. I didn't buy skinny clothes. Hell, I didn't even keep my skinny clothes for future skinny times. I just purchased makeup - that most women would love to use daily - and hoarded it for my future skinny self.

Now, this is really unhealthy because:
1) My skinny self? The one I was always working towards? That bitch was cranky and anorexic. (Yes, I was anorexic. See above - one extreme or the other.)
2) Makeup expires. And then you have to throw it away. Before you ever got to use it. (Insert life lesson here about makeup being like life's precious moments. Thank you Jack Handy!)

So, now, its the future! And my makeup has expired! And I am still fat! What do I do? I go to Sephora and spend undisclosed amounts of money on products. And then use them. Frequently. Ok, so I just purchased skin care products - I am working my way back up to actual makeup, but my skin seems very happy about this development.

Now, I still have my "balance" issue. Ten years ago I was anorexic and now I am obese. Obviously there is some work to be done here. But, I have more information and resources available to me now than before. I now know that I have a medical issue that makes it hard for me to lose weight, but easy for me to gain it. I am working on controlling that issue, but its going to be a long process. But, hopefully ten years from now, I will be able to say I am healthy. And that I look damn good in my $30 lip gloss.

Of course, all of this happy-feel-good bullshit is pointless if the economy continues to degrade, and in ten years we are all just trying to put food on our tables and shelter over our heads and fight the revolution and all that shit. At that point, I will probably be using the blood of my enemies for lip gloss, and not worrying about my fat ass.

*I would like to note that I never wore all that stuff at once. Well, the silver eyeshadow and the blue nail polish obviously complemented each other, but I mostly focused on one stand-out thing at once. Didn't want to overwhelm my admirers.

Also - the most painful thing I threw out - a $25 mascara for "sensitive eyes", used twice, both times resulting in blood-shot eyes for approx. 48 hours after removing. Apparently they sell it to Lasik patients for use right after surgery. I would rather coat my eyelids with glass shards.

Say "Hi" to Joe Pesci for me, George.

Growing up, my sister and I weren't allowed to watch a lot of TV. Everything was screened by our mom. She would sit with us and watch what we watched, and if she felt like things were getting inappropriate for us, she'd turn the channel. My mom didn't use the TV as a babysitter, and tried to shelter us from gratuitous sexual content and dysfunctional families with rude kids (I wasn't allowed to watch The Simpsons until I was like 14 or so, because Mom felt Bart was rude. I think she didn't want the rudeness to rub off on us, but this technique was completely ineffective. Because my mom is pretty rude. So, I learned more from her than I ever did from Bart.) But, despite this, we grew up watching George Carlin comedy specials. With my parents. And they would often explain things if we didn't understand the language. I wasn't allowed to watch R-rated movies, but I knew all the words you can't say on tv. Even though I probably couldn't use all of them in a sentence until I was in high school. I am sure my mom tsked a bit when we watched it, but I think she felt that the social commentary was more important than the language. Or maybe she just thought it was funny. My step-dad was the real George Carlin fan though. He loves George Carlin. He can quote entire bits. He even looks like George Carlin. (Seriously, he's been asked for autographs.)

Honestly, George Carlin's work totally shaped many of my philosophical beliefs and helped me deal with my issues with religion. (Quick lesson on how to fuck with a sensitive and imaginative kid's mind - tell them about "the end times." Thank you, friendly church people! I'll be sending you my therapy bill.) My sense of humor is a direct result of a childhood with George Carlin and an adolescence with The Simpsons.

So, I am pretty sad about Carlin's death. I feel like I've lost a family member. The first thing I wanted to do when I heard the news was call my step-dad, who I haven't spoken to in over 5 years. But I couldn't, because he doesn't want a relationship with me*, and Carlin's death made that lost connection even more real to me. When I lamented to Dick about my sadness, he said, "George wouldn't want you to be sad." Which is true. He would also probably call my step-dad a c*cksucker, but that's beside the point.

I think George's brother Patrick summed it up pretty well for me when he said, "He sure left a beautiful trail across the universe, and I'm going to miss him forever, forever, man."

*My step-dad, who raised me since I was four years old, doesn't want a relationship with me because his girlfriend/domestic partner doesn't like me. And she doesn't understand why he would want to have a parental relationship with a girl that is not his biological daughter. I am sure George would have some choice words for her as well.

That's the way it is

Some of my earliest memories are of my family watching the nightly news together. I loved Dan Rather. Seriously. I would pretend to be him, and would often "report live" from the backseat of our car on family vacations. My sister H did not find this amusing at all. But, can you blame her? I was always interviewing her, and I asked the hard questions, yes I did.

Anyway, my love of the nightly news spurred my love for newspapers, magazines, and now blogs (and all of the internets!). I work for the home-town newspaper I grew up reading, and although my work is pretty fluffy and most of my colleagues don't consider me a real journalist, I am very proud of my work, who I work with and what journalism means. My family is big into the whole "public service" thing and I consider journalism to to be one of the important forms of public service. In many ways, my silly newsroom job is a dream job for me. Even though the pay is shit.

So, we've established that I am a newsjunkie. This means I can remember some of Rather's best lines, especially in reference to elections. My fav - "He swept through the South like a tornado through a trailer park." Ahh. That shit would get you fired today. And I once saw Ted Koppel moderate a panel at a literary event, and afterwards I pulled his namecard (the one that sat on the table in front of him, telling everyone that he was Ted Koppel - which was completely unnecessary. I mean, he's Ted Koppel, people!) out of the trash and kept it for years. I may still have it, in fact. I am pretty sure he touched it at some point. Also - important to note - he is much more attractive in real life. Not that he is a real looker or anything, but apparently the camera is not friendly to him.

So, my love of news - and journalists - and nightly news anchors - means I take these people pretty seriously when they are on TV. So, when Tom Brokaw got choked up while talking about the untimely death of Tim Russert, I lost it. And I wasn't particularly a big fan of Russert. His show, Meet the Press, totally stressed me out. (I am also stressed out by American Idol and Jeopardy. Please don't judge me.) But, there is something about watching journalists get teary that breaks my heart.

I do want to note that I don't watch the nightly news anymore. Haven't in years. I don't have a problem with any of the anchors, but I find the product to be very, very fluffy. And entertainment driven. I read my paper and lots of other papers online, listen to NPR and occasionally watch the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer on PBS. And I am always thrilled when I stumble across Sunday Morning. I tend to forget that its not just a wonderful memory from my childhood.

Also - wow. Favorite line: "..the campaign, when it initially was contacted by the Post and ABC News, questioned why the story was newsworthy."

And - I am fully aware of Dan Rather's craziness. When I was a teenager, I read one of his autobiographies. He's like the crazy uncle that always has great stories, even if they are mostly made up or exaggerated for his benefit.

I will always love Peter Jennings though. (He was a high school drop out - like me!) And I will never read a biography about him so that his image may remain eternally untarnished in my head. Amen.

Remember that time? When we were in that uterus?

Hi blog. I've missed you. Have you missed me? No? Oh. Well. Um. Are you mad at me or something? I know, I know. 138 days IS a long time. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I've been thinking about you a lot. Facebook status updates are no way to keep my friends aware of all the wonderful, witty things in my head. Only a blog can truly do that.

I've been thinking about the last 138 days and what prevented me from sitting my ass down and typing out a few thoughts. And honestly, a lot of shit has happened. I've tried to summarize in a haiku:

job eating my soul,
uterus stole my savings,
and I had the flu.

Are you afraid of uteruses (uteri?) or ovaries? Or menstruation? If so, you may want to skip a couple paragraphs, but before you do, I'd like to tell you that you are a dumbass. Seriously, you spent the first nine (more or less) months of your existence hanging out in a uterus. And guess what? You really fucking liked it! It was nice and cozy, perfect temperature and you basically hung out, floating and swishing around. And then, when you left, you were really pissed and cried like a baby bitch. So friends, don't be afraid of the uterus. (When I wrote this, I realized that I've always tried to plan vacations at locations that were nice, the perfect temperature and near water for floating. I don't know what that says about me.)

Anyway - uterus talk starts now:
So, in January, I started birth control pills after being off them for six months. And everything was going great. Until my period started. And kept going. And going. For 35 days. I learned a couple things in this 35 day time-span:
1) Apparently if you've been off the pill for a while and go back, it can make you a raving lunatic, especially if you are taking a certain type of low-dose pill. You may consider quiting your job and driving off a bridge. Or just driving to the airport, to take a plane to India, because you read about a guru in India that can help crazy people. Or you may consider committing yourself to the psych ward. You may go to your general care practitioner and say, "Hey doc. Something is wrong, I feel crazy. My OB/GYN just started me new birth control, but other than that, nothing's changed." And your doc may say, "Hey, let's up your anti-depressant dosage." And you may ignore her because you don't think that's the answer. And then one day, you may stumble across a random blog post that has a random comment about a certain new birth control pill making people crazy. And then you'll do some research and feel a little better about the whole thing. (It gets better with time.) Also, being a lunatic makes it really hard to go to work and school. Who knew?

2) When you have Hemophobia (fear of blood, specifically your own blood) having a period for 35 days is really fucking stressful.

3) When you have a 35 day period, you only have a few medical options for dealing with it. You can try messing with your birth control pills and seeing if changing them or temporarily stopping them makes a difference. But it is a crap shoot. Cause everyone reacts differently. Or you can have a D&C. Which is what my ob/gyn suggested.

4) A D&C is a really expensive procedure. Which they don't tell you until you have your pre-op the day before. And, the particular "surgery center" I went to wanted the cash up front. $1000. That didn't include the fee for the surgeon, the lab work, or the anesthesia guy.

5) D&Cs are also used to remove miscarried fetuses. I hope that I never have to go through one in those circumstances, because waiting in an ob/gyn waiting room filled with a million pregnant women, and a bunch of women with tiny babies, while the office people take two freaking hours to get your paperwork ready to do your pre-op appointment, which you thought was only going to take 30 minutes, really fucking sucks without the whole "dead fetus" thing. I am planning on telling the Ob/gyn that they need a separate waiting room for patients waiting for D&C pre-op appointments.

So, in March, I paid $1000, had my uterus reset and went home. And missed three days of work. Its been three months since I had it and everything seems to be good. They also stuck a camera up there, so I got to see snapshots of my uterus. Kind of cool. Also, I can officially say that I have had a camera in two of my orifices. One more to go!

And, of course, the surgery center fucked up my insurance claim, and ended up issuing me a refund for $400, which I have to basically just send to the surgeon. And then I have to send another $400 to the anesthesia doc. Fun times. The insurance provided by my workplace is the worst insurance I've ever had. On my old insurance, I had major abdominal surgery and stayed in the hospital for two nights. It cost $250 for the hospital and $150 for the surgeon. I was at the "surgery center" for three hours and it cost $1400.

My lady parts are so expensive to maintain.

OK. Uterus talk over.

Other things that happened:

January - Had sinus infection, missed two days of work.
February - Took trip to the Keys to visit my mom, sis, Grandma and Grandpa. Fun, except Grandpa had flu. Returned home, and then came down with the flu, and missed two and a half days of work. Also, withdrew from classes because flu+defective uterus+crazy hormones does not equal good student.
March - restarted uterus, missed three days of work.
April - Got another sinus infection, which found its way to my lungs and aggravated my asthma. My nightstand became a pharmacy of nasal spray, inhalors, three different types of mucinex, two types of antihistamines and advil. Oh, and a bunch of tissues. Missed another two and a half days of days of work. And then Dick got sick. Oi vey.
May - I started ADD medicine. And helped sister move. Dick worked out of town a lot.
June - Dick worked out of town some more. I stayed up late a lot and watched a lot of bad Tv. And lamented how much paid time off I had spent on sick days. Worried about work.

So. Blog. And blog friends. I have been a wee bit busy. But, inside my head, I have a billion wonderful, witty things to say, I promise. I just need to type them out. Things I plan on discussing:

1. My review of the sex and the city movie.
2. Dick's new crafty hobbies
3. The economy
4. People I hate. Or strongly dislike.
5. Investment options for people who work for companies that cancel 401k matching.

I know you are all very impressed. Ok. I am going to bed because I have some crafty wedding gift things I have to do tomorrow.

Ohh! Topic #6: Crafty wedding gifts that don't suck.

You are so glad I am back, aren't you?