Afterglow

Wednesday was our company-provided "Holiday Meal," which at the time was delicious, although we decided the pumpkin pie was definitely better last year. Wednesday's meals were to be my last solid food before my colonoscopy this a.m. So, when I started getting sick on Wednesday night, I was really unhappy. I was determined to eat my "last supper," which I interrupted multiple times to run to the bathroom. I continued to be sick through the rest of the night and the a.m. When I arrived at work Thursday a.m., I found out that everyone was sick. Literally. The "holiday meal" had sickened hundreds of people. Many called in, or left early. I was planning on going home early anyway, because the preparations for my procedure had to begin at 1 p.m. Of course, by that time I was so dehydrated and sick anyway, the prep was kind of disastrous. Late in the night I puked so hard that I burst little blood vessels all around my eyes. So very pretty.

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Side note:
It's moments like those when I am glad I have Dick. He's seen me in millions of horrible, humiliating medical moments and never shuddered or looked away. He's always held my hand and comforted me. He totally bought into the whole "in sickness and in health" thing.
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Despite feeling like crap, and having my body assaulted by bad food and medical science, all I thought about all day Thursday was food. All the food I loved but couldn't eat. A short list:
toast with peanut butter
oatmeal with lots of brown sugar and a wee bit of milk
biscuits and sausage gravy
an angelo's coney dog with mustard and onions, with one of their awesome chocolate shakes
root beer float
coca cola
doughnuts, hot and fresh from KK
publix birthday cake
spaghetti with homemade meat sauce
mashed potatoes and gravy
white rice, cooked in chicken broth with salt and pepper (when I was young, I would cook that for myself if I felt sick. Very soothing.)
ramen noodles (chicken flavor)
cold pizza sitting in the fridge, mocking me
bbq pork
fried chicken
full fat chocolate pudding
buckeyes
boil cookies (that's what my family called them. Some people call them no bake cookies.)

That's the short list, people. The laxative stuff was awful. Being sick the night before sucked. Puking all over the bathroom was painful. But the worst was imagining all the foods I loved, and couldn't eat. Which I totally did to myself. On the plus side, I really, really, really enjoyed my first post-procedure meal - biscuits and gravy and sausage and pancakes from Cracker Barrel. I took my time with the meal and savored each bite, thinking about the textures and the flavors. I took little mental breaks to evaluate by body and stomach and how things were going. I left some food behind, which is something I always work on, but don't always accomplish. And I felt satisfied by not stuffed afterwords. And exhausted, a result of the anesthesia.

So, I may have tortured myself with visions of delicious food, but I feel like I've come out on the other side with a better idea of my relationship to food - and how I should eat based on what I want/need versus what is going serve an emotional need. I hope I can build on this and I am not just experiencing some sort of post-colonoscopy afterglow. If that is even possible.

Literary Confection

It is time, my friends, for me to address the Twilight phenomenon.

I am against all things Twilight-related.

There. I said it. I will not read the books or watch the movie(s).

That being said, I love vampires. And not in the creepy, gothic high school chick way. (The "I love vampires because I want Lestat to find me and make me a vampire and make me whole because I am sad and twisty" way.) In fact, as the girls in my high school succumbed to the pleasures of all of Anne Rice's vampire novels, I resisted. But, a couple years later, my dad read some of them, and recommended them. So I started. And I never read them in order, and I don't think I read all of them, but I really enjoyed both The Vampire Chronicles books and the New Tales of the Vampires. They are pure literary confection. Delicious and consumable. (Well, with the exception of Memnoch the Devil, which warped my mind in a way that put me off my Anne Rice kick for YEARS.) And I refuse to read any of the stuff she wrote after she was born again. Her books were wonderful because they were so sacrilege. (Her earliest stuff was erotica!) I don't need Jesus all up in there.

Anyway, I love vampires. One reason I love them? Cause they are ALL ABOUT SEX. Even if they aren't having sex, the entire literary theme is about sex and power. And I believe that it is done best when you mix the two. Which leads me to my Number One Reason Why I Hate The Twilight Books: no sex.

There is only so much heavy petting and dry humping a girl can take. You can't have a vampire novel where that is all that happens. Because vampires, are in essence, about giving into those urges. And we all know why there is no sex in the books, which leads me to my Number Two Reason Why I Hate the Twilight Books: Stephanie Meyers.

Ok, so you all know that I grew up Mormon, and I left the church when I was 13. As a result of my "Mormon experience" I will probably never be involved in organized religion again. But that is a whole other post. Anyway, I have a natural suspicion of Mormons anyway. So, when I heard this Mormon housewife was writing sex-less vampire novels, I actually found it personally offensive. Really? The Mormons have to mess with my sexy vampires too? They can't just leave my dysfunctional childhood alone? (I have issues, I know.) But, my distaste of the Mormons has been fueled by their recent support of California's Proposition 8. I grew up in the church, and I know the strength of their "convictions." And the Mormons really don't like homosexuals. I, on the other hand, love homosexuals. (And I find that a good homosexual relationship really spices up a vampire novel, just so you know.) So, Stephanie Meyer may not agree with her church on this issue, but she has openly labeled herself as a Mormon in almost every freaking interview she's given, so I am going to assume that she is comfortable with her beliefs. That's fine. However, having grown up in the church, I know that every good Mormon gives 10% of their income to the church. I tithed 10% of my allowance. I know Stephanie Meyers is tithing 10% of her income. That's definitely her choice. However, by buying her books and seeing her movie(s) I am giving her income. And 10% of that income is going to the Mormon church. And the Mormon church is using that income to support legislation that I believe infringes on the civil rights of good tax-paying, law-abiding citizens of America, who also happen to be gay. So, I've made the choice to boycott her work.

Her books may be fantastic and I may actually enjoy the lack of sex (not) but I can't finance the activities of the Mormon church. I am still working of all the bad karma from telling my babysitter that she was going to hell because she wasn't a Mormon. If you're out there, Trailer Park Babysitter, I am sorry!

P.S. If you are looking for an alternate series of literary confection, check out Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. They will make you dream about hot Scottish rogues. Mmmm.

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.