a complete lacking in discretion

good times.

2010-08-14T17:39:00.000-04:00

For my 100th post this should be something epic, but I just want to say I don't want to kill my husband anymore. Yay! He still owes me big time, though.

Dear God, I love bullet points. Ahhhh-men.

2010-08-05T23:39:00.000-04:00

I saw my first? devout? Muslim man today.
In high school I was 'oh-so-smart'. Yeah, even the smart make epic mistakes. That's for another post.
Travis thinks it's bad that I have cat food outside, for our cats, the strays, strays' cousins, and the fire ants.
I love lists.
I love pens. Oh, god, the greatness of pens. Going to blame this addiction on Mr. Eccles.
Now there's a man's man, for you. Old Spice? Take notes.
I could diet all day. Exercise? What?
Perfume! Oh, I love perfume.
I take so much diphenhydramine it affects my thinking. Like now.
French onion soup tomorrow!
I love it when people talk to me while I cook in the kitchen.
Marriage can suck.
I love Travis.
He is emotionally weak. I think he covers it up with a boisterous personality and physical strength.
I talked to my father a lot this week!
Only a couple of minutes were devoted to fish.
He has invented the name 'T-Rex kitties' for those with radial hypoplasia. We didn't like the term 'squitten'.
No, I didn't have to look that up to spell it. They call that a ninja win.
At the rate I'm going, by the time I go to bed early enough to wake up for dawn, it'll be dead-of-winter.
I wish my sister-in-law would call me.
Same goes for you.

Tiger Ranch and talking through my belly button.

2010-08-04T12:37:00.001-04:00

I have rescued a lot of cats.

Some were feral. Some were abandoned. Some were shot. Some were abused.

I love the idea of a 'no kill' shelter, one that gives animals a last chance and cares for them even if they can't be adopted. Some cats are inevitably broken. I get that. I have one or two that, while they are my best buds, would not be compatible with the regular cat person. Shit happens. I get that.

Tiger Ranch photos: discretion advised.

I don't know what gives anyone the desire to do this.

If a cat is too sick to be a cat, please put it down. If you can't take care of it, give it to somebody else. Part of the responsibility of having a cat is knowing that, as you give them a good life, you also are responsible for a good death. Animals aren't for hoarding.

The reason I have so many (six) is that people owned to up their responsibilities. They stopped by my house, my job, and gave me some of the best cats I've ever had. Some didn't make it. Some did. I wish I could save every single cat, but I know that it's impossible. Knowing that, I still take them. If I don't, sometimes no one will.

A co-worker of mine gave up her cats to the local animal shelter after moving into a no-pet home, and every single one of them were put down. Why? They turned their ears back after being locked in a cage and handled by strangers.

Again, I get it. The shelter is probably over-crowded, underfunded. Volunteers rarely know cat behavior - hell, sometimes I don't get them.

That's not an excuse to euthanize.

Conclusion: Life, and its participants, suck.

Shameless advertising.

2010-08-03T14:38:00.000-04:00

Why I Never Get Shit Done.

Please help me by either contributing a photo or commenting on the posts. This is a silly idea, but one I find enjoyable.

freedom isn't free.

2010-07-31T21:49:00.004-04:00

I just found out that I have to cover up my numerous self-mutilation scars to avoid discrimination in nursing school.

I don't even know what to do about that.

Do I get mad at the fact that I barely survived my own sanity, only to be punished even further? Do I intentionally keep them uncovered and risk a career, or even being kicked out for being unsound? Is that even legal?

Do I get upset and pick a fight in the name of every other person who's had to wear long sleeves? Do I risk never getting a job by picking a fight no one else is willing to?

Do I sit down and take this in stride? Keep my mouth shut and just keep in mind that I can't piss where I eat, and feel smothered and cowardly?

Well, I know what I want to do.

...But I don't think I can fight it, knowing that I risk the comfort of my family, id est, our future financial security.

"The ultimate freedom is saying 'I won't'."
-Unknown

People who try too hard.

2010-07-24T21:41:00.001-04:00

I was - still am, sometimes - one of those. I tried too hard to do what everyone else did. Now I'm going on a beaten path (becoming an R.N.) and I got asked "why". Not a nice, concerned, "why do you want to do that?" I got the "you know, you're supposed to be so smart, and you choose to do some crappy job? Like, seriously?" When I explained the reason - two years of school, paid for with a two year contract, minimal effort, in a profession I admire that pays extremely well for those who are night owls - I felt bad at myself, for giving this person so many reasons (excuses). I had to defend my actions to a person who is so hopelessly lost and inane. Who scored higher than me on a test and suddenly elevated themselves to the smarter cookie in the relationship. I've always prided myself in not trying - not studying, nnot giving a damn, plowing through it on my terms and no one else's. However, it still sucks, failing in the eyes of someone.

2010-07-21T13:26:00.000-04:00

While I believe that there can be several steps to prevent the sick, infirm, and mentally challenged, the truth is we have problems with a growing population now. And while I am an advocate of choice, the reality is that there are people who are sick. They weren't aborted, they weren't abandoned, they were born without the chance to be normal. It isn't their fault, and they need to be taken care of and given the chance to live to their potential - whatever that potential is. I'm sick of the stigma. I'm sick of one-path scenarios. Treat the sick, and take steps to find out what autism is to prevent it. Take strides to cure mental illness, not dumbing down the sick with so much medication they don't have a life. Don't let the drug companies control the masses. Get the doctors with money-laced objectives out. Help those who cry for it.

never the best policy, that fickle honesty

2010-07-01T00:02:00.002-04:00

Dear Mr. Morrissey,

I don't want this to come across as just another fan letter, though inevitably I find it will be.

I just wanted you to know that I've listened to your music since 2003. It's been some of the best I've ever heard, because it's so succinct with how I've felt for all this time. I started with 'Irish Blood, English Heart' - my British friend Stevie sent me a recording from a radio station. Even though I live in the United States, I felt every word you were saying, every emotion you threw across with that voice of yours.

I also want you to know that I hope you're happy - a person in your position would be, I hope. But then, listening to your music, I can't imagine so much angst coming from a happy person. It makes me think of Billy Corgan - at his best musically, he was a wreck. Then he found God, and, like in Stranger in a Strange Land, 'got happy'. I hope you have a good life and you enjoy the fruits of your career. It's done so much for me, at my lowest and my highest. You express it better than any previous band.

I remember visiting Florida for the summer in 2004, and being thrilled at the idea of going to the Virgin Mega Store. I was ecstatic when I saw a full poster of you holding a gun in You Are the Quarry. I bought it that day, and I've listened to you for seven years now. I buy your music whenever I can.

Are you happy? Do you lead a life you enjoy? I know I'm not expressing myself well - like I mentioned earlier, it's inevitable. What I thought of in my head while I smoked a cigarette and thought of the song I just heard does not match the blockish letters I type now. I can at least say I tried, however, to convey to you my gratitude and again, my hope that you're okay. That you drink pleasure and sweat pain and don't have to deal with everyday travesties.

Thank you for being an artist. I have to remind myself to also thank Stevie for sending that long-ago recording.

With all the best wishes and none of the greed,

Annie Stevens

eat shit and die.

2010-06-20T11:42:00.000-04:00

If you can't think for yourself, you deserve what people tell you to do.

My recent lack of friends here in Florida, while disconcerting, are not (?) a reflection of me. That also may be true of some friends abroad: though, out of the chaos of knowing them then and then reconciling with who they are now, I find myself disappointed. Surprised, however, I am not. I find myself with the same dilemma some family members have: meeting someone, initially reading them as worthless, untrustworthy, shitty, the list goes on - giving them a long, happy second chance to rectify my initial impression, and being surprised when the initial interpretation reads true. Every. fucking. time.

New idea for a book!

2010-06-15T12:06:00.000-04:00

People are stupid, I feel like ass. My cat won't shut up.

Making this real.

2010-05-27T00:48:00.000-04:00

If 'think yourself skinny' was a mantra that worked, I would have been a heap of skin and bones along the side of a lonesome highway.

So many of my friends get awards, like we did in Senior year. They aren't nearly as cool or shiny: Most Like to Commit Suicide First, Most Depressing, Best at Denialism.

There's also an award of 'Most Disappointing', and it's shared by many.

Postpartum Depression lasting five years?

For me, I know I was depressed before I propagated. I know that without my husband being a stable, constant facet in my life, I would have fallen apart long before bearing any fruit - of life, of success, of fortune.

There are days I think of other paths I could have taken, folks I could have seen, loves unrequited in this life but rekindled in other parallel worlds. And I know this is impossible, because in any other life, I would have killed myself. No denying who I am, how I feel without love, without possibilities. And inevitably, with so many friends and so many shitty awards handed out like pamphlets trying to convince you of better, brighter, bullshit-laced things, I would have felt failed (like I do now, like I have felt always), worthless (proven time and time again through others' actions), and unneeded (a dark, nasty truth -THE truth). And as such, knowing my sensitivity, my interpretation of myself through the faces and bodies of other people, I would have killed myself.

Every time I felt an ugly look, and received a nasty remark, I felt it like I was the person ashamed or embarrassed or tired of me. It was the worst feeling in the world. My only salve now is knowledge, knowing who I am and what I am against one who cannot analyze their self and find the kinks, the fissures, and the worn spots of every human being. I rub and feel and cut into the wounds I have, searching, interpreting, bandaging these holes made ragged by constant assuaging.

Every time I say something mean, I feel like I'm damning the subject of my remarks to the feelings they forced upon me.

If I say something about karma biting the filthy hand that fed it, I'm sure I'll get my turn, nursing well-earned wounds from a comment, a thought years earlier.

Is this a manifestation of my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?

I don 't normally post what I think before bed. I try to avoid it, and I think you can understand why.

My name is you.

2010-05-22T14:31:00.000-04:00

Too many ideas, not enough inclination.

Being afraid of criticism is shooting yourself in the foot. Self-improvement is self-evident: survival trumps ego for me. Every single time.

That show Ancient Aliens? Holy shit, it scares me. The possibility is frightening: if aliens are coming here, we won't win. We can't win. They've all ready beat us by travelling to our end of the galaxy and showing up on Earth.

Avatar: I enjoyed a movie where anti-military, anti-human predilections win. There should be a sequel, merely because there's no way humans would not come back and try to destroy those who shamed them. My mother's interpretation: "It was White Man versus the Indians, and the Indians won."

Kearby: Tuesday, June 1st, I'll be in town and hanging out with people. If you can make some sort of plan, give me a call or comment on here. Would love to talk to you.

2010-05-16T18:05:00.000-04:00

Totally hating my life right now.

2010-05-01T10:09:00.001-04:00

If I wanted to be treated like shit, I would have followed my ex to the ends of the earth.

2010-05-01T00:11:00.001-04:00

I have to take today with a grain of salt (or, as my father sometimes says, a salt block) and discover that in spite of the shittiness it truly was, I need to treat it as a day to reflect on human behavior, stress, and my own self-control.

The number of times I cried today is more than I've cried in months.

My father had to convince me that it really, truly, wasn't me. That I wasn't the socially awkward, outing-ruining bitch my husband made me out to be. He took me out of a well-to-do restaurant to ream me a new one. When it took all I could to not cry or yell at him in front of his family, patrons, and staff. Then when I did what I thought was right, I was being a flirtatious whore (my words, not his) who made him jealous.

This is just a bump in a long road. All I could think to do was run away or hurt myself. Neither are an option now. Chagrin sometimes for knowing that, embracing the 'right' way.

I am not making this out to make Travis the bad guy. He is under a lot of stress, none of it I understand or even knew until it was explained to me by someone not in the situation.

All I could do was blame myself, when in reality, I did a good job. Try selling it to me. I'd love to buy it.

What makes me so upset now is knowing that I wasn't incorrect, but still feeling like I was at fault. And knowing I'm still in trouble, for invisible injustices.

If you ever read this Travis, you made me feel an inch high after two years of telling me how tall and admirable I was. It was deplorable. I'm sorry you hurt. I'm sorry I was the one you chose to take your anger out on. I'm sorry you thought I was ruining your sister's big day. And I'm sorry you're so mad at me. I tried. I really did. I just want to shudder and piss in the corner. I hope that's what you wanted. And I hope you realize your folly later, but not too late to make it right.

2010-04-25T20:13:00.002-04:00

I was making friends with Norbie's acquaintances on Facebook and came across a girl who knew a girl who is the sister of a guy who used to hang out with Natalia. If that isn't psychotic, I don't know what is. And Natalia, if you're reading this, I hope you got my e-mail. I'm still thinking about you. And it's nuts, knowing all these folks on the interwebs without actually physically knowing them.

Dreams have included hazing, the boonies of Missouri, and Morgan Freeman. All in one go.

I don't talk a lot about my son on here. I didn't have a kid to make him my life. The life of a one-year old isn't exactly what I'd expect you to come here for, if anything at all. I get mad at people who live through their children - either they're so empty as to not have anything else to do, or it's a sad obsession. Vicariously living through them? I don't know. I have enough of my life to avoid devoting my blog to the prodigal son that is way entirely too liked by too many to be related to me. There ain't no way. I was never exactly a social butterfly. I still have less than a hundred friends on Facebook, which is hilarious, sad, and indicative.

Evidently I'm gonna have to rob a few banks to make it to Missouri. (Hey, FBI/other three-letter combination agent that listens to my phone conversations? This is called a joke.) That's okay - when I lived with my brother and his ex-girlfriend, she was lamenting about the lack of money. He convinced her that it would be entirely feasible if she let me plan it. He also told my husband that I was the clear winner after diving into my next door neighbor/best friend's pool to fix a clogged bottom drain and grabbing a toy car and half of a tennis ball. Because I got the biggest/best things, and I'm a Hancock, I should manipulate the situation to make sure Travis understood that it was a competition that I won. And to rub it in his face.

I stopped posting because I was not doing good, and also a laptop's keyboard sucks. I have stolen my husband's monster machine. I also feel inspired.

Cigarette time! Come join me.

2010-04-12T17:33:00.001-04:00

This has been the most boring day in the world!

2010-04-05T18:12:00.000-04:00

So I woke up yesterday at noon to my husband feeding me homemade iced coffee, convinced him that I was going to Europe for a vacation, and squeed at the possibility.

Then I looked at flight prices and cried like a little landlocked bitch.

having problems.

2010-04-03T16:43:00.000-04:00

watching another person's kid. shoot me now.

my husband's sense of entitlement gets in the way of us. shoot me now.

my son just bit me. shoot me now.

I want to leave and never come back.

2010-04-02T17:11:00.001-04:00

Hi there, how do you do?
My name is you
Flies, they all gather around me and you too
You can't see anything well
You ask me what size it is, not what I sell
The flies, they all gather around me and you too

Well, I don't want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone
Yeah, I don't want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone
Well, the Devil's apprentice he gave me some credit
He fed me a line and I'll probably regret it
I don't want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone

I don't want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone

I think one of the best feelings in the world is introducing someone to music and have them truly enjoy it, giving them that feeling you've had for so long but thought you could never share.

2010-04-02T14:11:00.000-04:00

I'm getting real tired of seeing my ex on Facebook.

Ben walks everywhere. It took him a year to become fun.

2010-03-30T18:53:00.002-04:00

[X] I’ve run away from home
[X] I listen to political music
[ ] I collect[ed] comic books
[ ] I shut others out when I’m sad
[X] I open up to others easily
[X] I am keeping a secret from the world
[X] I watch the news
[ ] I own over 5 rap CDs
[X] I own something from Hot Topic
[ ] I love Disney movies
[X] I am a sucker for hair/eyes
[X] I don’t kill bugs
[X] I curse regularly
[ ] I have “x”s in my screen name
[X] I’ve slipped out a “lol” in a real conversation
[X] I love Spam
[X] I bake well
[ ] I would wear pajamas to school
[X] I have a job <--- watching kid and cats is a job
[ ] I love Martha Stewart
[X] I am in love/like with someone
[ ] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS
[X] I am self conscious
[X] I like to laugh
[X] I smoke a pack a day
[ ] I loved Go Ask Alice
[ ] I have cough drops when I’m not sick
[ ] I can’t swallow pills
[X] I have many scars
[ ] I’ve been out of this country
[ ] I can’t sleep if there is a spider in the room
[X] I am really ticklish
[X] I love chocolate!!
[ ] I bite my nails
[ ] I am comfortable with being me
[X] I play computer games/video games when I’m bored
[X] Gotten lost in the city
[X] Saw a shooting star
[ ] I had Surgery
[ ] Gone out in public in your pajamas
[ ] I have kissed a stranger
[X] Hugged a stranger
[ ] been in a fist fight with the same sex
[ ] Laughed and had milk/soda come out of your nose
[ ] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator
[ ] Made out in an elevator
[X] Swore at your parents
[X] Kicked a guy where it hurts
[ ] Been skydiving
[ ] Been bungee jumping
[X] Broken a bone
[ ] Played spin the bottle
[ ] Gotten stitches
[X] Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour
[X] Bitten someone
[ ] Been to Niagara Falls
[X] Gotten the chicken pox
[ ] Crashed into a car <--- it crashed into me
[ ] Been to Japan
[X] Ridden in a taxi
[X] Shoplifted
[ ] Been fired
[X] Had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back
[ ] Stole something from your job
[ ] Gone on a blind date
[X] Had a crush on a teacher/coach
[ ] Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans
[ ] Been to Europe
[X] Slept with a co-worker
[X] Been married
[ ] Gotten divorced
[X] Saw someone/something dying
[X] Driven over 400 miles in one day
[ ] Been to Canada
[X] Been on a plane
[ ] Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show
[ ] Thrown up in a bar
[X] Eaten Sushi
[ ] Been snowboarding
[ ] Been skiing
[X] Been ice skating
[X] Met someone in person from the internet
[ ] Been to a motocross show
[X] Going to or have gone to college
[ ] Done hard drugs
[X] Taken painkillers
[ ] Cheated on someone else

2010-03-29T10:40:00.000-04:00

Not a fan of the Duggars.

My husband definitely does not know how to burn a stump. He also does not know how to listen to someone who does.

I have a four week old kitten I'm fostering for the next door neighbor. Ben pets her with one finger.

Ben also watches television. This is where I make an acceptance speech for a shitty mother award, but really, it's cool.

2010-03-26T17:25:00.001-04:00

I know I never never never gonna leave you, babe
But I got to go away from this place,
I've got to quit you, yeah
Baby, ooh don't you hear it callin' me?
Woman, woman, I know, I know
It feels good to have you back again
And I know that one day baby, it's really gonna grow, yes it is
We gonna go walkin' through the park every day
Come what may, every day

It was really, really good
You made me happy every single day
But now
I've got to go away

2010-03-18T08:53:00.001-04:00

I had a dream of high school, where Mr. Eccles had taken over Mrs. Proffitt's agriculture room and we were all studying. In the midst of this, walking between classes, I saw the hands down most gorgeous man ever, who was supposed to be one of the many brothers of a student. He had a son with him, and I made a joke about 'unattainable' but he insisted I come home with him.

He had a huge house off of 142, and it was so lovely. I was so surprised that he had me come with him, in spite of the fact he was obviously married. His gorgeous wife came home, gracious in spite of a car accident that left her tousled and upset. And then... another wife came home!

I was lustin' on a polygamist! And I was pretty sure I'd tolerate it, too. That house and that face did a lot of converting.

2010-03-17T22:25:00.000-04:00

My husband finally got around to thinking (or reading this, who knows?) about what I said and told me to vacation. Obviously, I can't go anywhere without Ben, but... at least the option is there without a fight.

I just hope he isn't disappointed in me.

hey, TMI. how are you?

2010-03-16T23:04:00.000-04:00

Up against a wall.

I am having issues with my husband's lack of empathy, sympathy, any of it. He doesn't get my insomnia, the fact that going to bed at 8 o'clock isn't exactly appetizing. I spend all night reading, and I clean when I get the inclination - at least a couple of tasks a day to get through the week. My house isn't dirty. It can be cluttered, however.

I'm not happy. I've got the husband, the kid, the house. I've got free time out the ass. What kills me the most is a lack of sex drive, the ultimate factor in any problem we have in our marriage: I don't think I could ever have another kid, just because I feel down, I feel lethargic, heavy, and I have no inclination. I hear a lot about that - it can take anywhere from 6 months to 3 years to get it back. I don't have that kind of time to wait - Travis thinks I don't like him anymore. I am still angry over the fact that he couldn't leave me alone when I was sick/pregnant/depressed. Couldn't let it go, take care of himself. He 'shouldn't have to'. I feel that it translates to 'I shouldn't have to make an effort to make my wife happy.'

I gave up quite a bit of shit to keep everything kosher. I took a house I didn't want, worked nights at a job that didn't tolerate pregnancy. I kept the house clean, felt sick and dealt with so many shitty healthcare professionals I do everything it takes to keep our family from any doctor, nurse, or even an office receptionist. He says he gave up a lot too. His job didn't change. His body didn't change. His mind didn't drive him insane. He didn't have to deal with all the stupid fucking shit a pregnant woman does. I got called fat, had people tell me I was making a mistake in marriage, going too fast, and what the hell was I thinking?

I feel like every negative thing thrown at us has shadowed every action. I might as well not try, nobody thinks it'll work anyway. My husband sure as shit doesn't make an effort, so why bother. I know this is the wrong perspective. I get tired, however, of being the one who has to make the change, give in, take a different position. I'm sick of having to be the peace keeper. I mention he does wrong, I feel patronized or ridiculed. I feel like every fight I back down from is a loss. I just want to give up, cut, run, come back with a fresh mind. I know it ain't right, but it's all I've ever done. I want to throw out there that hey, man, I don't have to be here. I don't have to take your lack of effort. I don't have to take you taking me for granted. However, I am not foolish enough to back someone in a corner. The claws come out and we lash out like the animals we are.

Is it because we're both alpha personalities?

It's not that I don't love him. It's that I'm too pissed to care.

'comes raining from a hapless cloud'

2010-03-15T22:38:00.000-04:00

So, married life, right?

I sleep and get mad at my son for throwing shit and clothing all over the place. My husband gets mad at me for being too severe with him. I feel like a bad mother - smacked him hard after an hour of tantrums. Left a mark on his face. I'm in trouble for not going to bed with my husband. My house is discombobulated from working on drywall, painting, removing wallpaper, and hanging out at the next door neighbor's. Been drinking coffee sometimes. Haven't gone back to my job since quitting - it feels good. I would kill for a vacation away from my family. I wish I could run free. I spent so much time aspiring to be a hippie, and now I sit at home. I don't think life has passed me by, usually. I still think it's 2006 and I'm 17. I don't know how I got so confused. There's a reference to this in Stranger in a Strange Land, but I don't want to find the book and quote Heinlein yet again. You'd think I found another author by now, but no, he's my man. My twenty-years-dead-but-still-badass-idol.

I had stopped listening to music for so long. Started to again recently. You know that car commercial with the giant sock monkey? Yeah, that song brought it all back to me.

I want to take people out, watch movies, and never eat again. I'm tired of my weaknesses, want to purge and get tattooed and never feel stuck or forced in my rut of life. I remember being happy when I was confused and self-destructive. That's all I ever compare my new life to now. Hard to measure up. Hard to let go. Hard to go on without some sort of motivation.

I told my husband I needed a vacation, and his response was "I wish I was special enough to take a vacation." I wish he was observant enough to know I was having problems, concerned enough to comfort me, and had the foresight to help my problems now, not before they explode.

I do not know why the caged bird sings. I sure as hell don't have a tune.

2010-02-24T15:03:00.000-05:00

I always want to prove people wrong, to replace my opinions with my own, and smack them if they don't quite get what I mean.

I'm still needing to print out that damn form to get my college transcript. Why am I procrastinating so badly?

I have stopped taking my hormonal birth control, because I think it's affecting my mental stability. Because I am not going through the normal highs and lows, my mind doesn't get a chance to stabilize.

Been doing crunches. Makes my stomach extend out more.

malaise

2009-11-18T12:00:00.000-05:00

I keep catching what viruses, bacteria, and other forms of bugs Ben brings home.

Been watching WWII in HD.

Working on the body with dieting and physical exercise. Haven't been craving the fatty, rich food I usually consume.

Wake me up when I get over this.

cheap update

2009-11-09T08:13:00.000-05:00

I finally figured out what dozens of people have said and I disregarded.

Florida. Modest Mouse wrote a song about it, old people flock here to die, and my husband and I work long hours in the service industry to appease those who have left the cold and dingy to be here, with the palm trees and sand. It's starting to grate on the both of us. We're trying to find a a way to be out from under this mortgage in five years. Ambitious, but doable.

I bought a gym membership and gave myself a deadline to be fit by. Travis has lost thirty pounds in six months. I've stayed the same, and my disappointment and self-disgust is evident in everything I do and do not. I need to improve my body like I've been improving my mind.

My job has been its usual hypocritical bullshit. I received some great advice to treat other people being disrespectful as a competition: if they get under my skin, they win. It works magnificently.

My son is finally figuring out how to hold a bottle. He tries to pull himself up, and enjoys table food. He has a temper unmatched, and I am working on teaching him better behavior.

I don't mean to sound so pretentious. I need to be more personable.

parting ways with 'politically correct'

2009-09-16T09:50:00.000-04:00

work has been its usual. I've been working in the pharmacy, something I thoroughly enjoy - this is the first time I've been intellectually challenged at work in years. there was a chance at my working there temporarily due to increased demand from flu vaccines, but I had to compete with two co-workers for the position. One has been at our store for five months, with some experience in working pharmacy, and the other is a retail noob who is a certified technician (I have this theory on pudgy girls trying to justify their pudginess by attempting to do something 'smart'). in spite of the entire pharmacy's backing, the privilege has been split. I am getting tired of not being acknowledged. I fix machinery, perform managers' duties, and work with customers regardless of the department. I told my boss I wanted pharmacy or the key holder (like a manager, without the pay) position, and if I didn't get either I'd turn off my cable and stay home.

the only way I can get Ben looked at by a doctor is if I adhere to their immunization protocol - too much of a liability to look at an unvaccinated child. if he is not looked at by Friday, he has to be removed from daycare.

I finally bought alcohol yesterday.

2009-08-28T17:55:00.000-04:00

I won't talk about my birthday, because self-pitying rants are unhealthy.

I guess I'll never run out of Chaptsick again, though.

not feeling good. blamin' it on Swine Flu.

2009-08-19T01:04:00.001-04:00

I baked cookies for my neighborhood!

I still look up the people who hurt me the most. I really ought to stop doing that.

Rebecca Woolf wrote a post that makes me think of what I used to do. It touched base.

I need a cigarette. Also: chapstick. We found eight of them under the couch. I'm somehow back down to two.

2009-08-18T12:55:00.001-04:00

people have several grievous misunderstandings about cats. anyone who thinks cats are aloof haven't seen my troop come with me to visit the newly-met neighbors, rubbing legs and pawing them gently, in spite of the fact that neither are cat people.

there is a fine difference between people who own cats, and people who do not. I can not put a finger on it, but one of the first questions I ask if if someone owns a cat. I don't care if you prefer dogs, if you bitch about cat hair on your furniture - if you own a cat, take care of one, you usually pass initial inspection. if the cat likes you, well, you must be good people. I don't know any nasty people who have a cat willing to be near them. They usually just have what my father calls 'football dogs', those small enough and loud enough to deserve great trajectories. one such dog mauled my brother when he was crippled by an extreme case of club feet and could not get away. I've never quite gotten over that idea. they don't seem to like me either. I exude a dominant dog attitude, and that upsets most canines. I roll most dogs who question me, forcing them to submit. We usually make great friends after that, though.

my son threw up on me today. he's in the bassinet bleating his disapproval after being deposited.

I worked out, focusing on my abs (torso twists with a book) and a lot of lunges. I hope I can finally lose some of this weight. Travis says to expect it to come off while working, and I hope he's right.

He's been frustrating me - I had a very bad week and the housework fell behind. he got upset and snide after I went out with my sister and niece to go back-to-school shopping, and I've just not forgiven him. I wish he apologized. I wish he petted me more. he did clean up some of the house, but rubbed it in my face - 'it took me less than three hours'. good for you, jackass. I went to bed with a book and ignored him.

my sleep patterns went to shit, a sign of emotional instability. I'm hungry. I've been pushing myself biking. I wish I got my results faster, but I know better.

it'll get better sometime.

2009-08-17T18:12:00.001-04:00

I'm in the process of writing out a system for healthcare. if possible, I'm going to try and get into a townhall meeting to discuss it.

It's not so much that I think I have the answer - it's that I think everyone should at least try.

pictures and more to follow.

2009-08-13T23:03:00.000-04:00

got to go to bed sometime.

why I can't fit in with mommybloggers

2009-08-03T05:45:00.000-04:00

-I don't (so far) have fertility issues. I haven't had to inject myself repeatedly, keep my legs in the air, or pray to any gods for two lines.

-I did not have a high-risk pregnancy. I had a 'eat chimichangas at 4 o'clock in morning and chew Flintstones vitamins' diet. I had one ultrasound, versus the weekly checks so many get, that my insurance didn't even cover. I was not terribly scrutinized for anything I did, other than drink coffee in my seventh month. It didn't matter that I hadn't touched anything caffeinated during the past six, but that I was marring my fetus by trying to get by on fumes and caffeine at my hideous job.

-I am a horrible human being by a) circumcising my son, b) not immediately vaccinating him, and c) not breastfeeding for two years.

It's not that the entire community is like this, but it is enough of an issue to be off-putting. No one wants to hear about the daily toilings of a young, happily married mother with a healthy son. They want to hear the trials and tribulations of a college graduated mid-thirties couple (well-to-do, I might add) who has been trying for years, or the parent who lost a baby after an agonizing pregnancy. They want the horror, the impatience, the agony. Because that's what sells, that's what brings the readers.

And while mental illness is brought forth in the community on occasion, it is to the chagrin of many. There are two bloggers (Dooce and Dad Gone Mad) I know who have eloquently defined their emotional battles to the expense of thousands of readers shaking their heads and telling them they should have never reproduced. I have yet to find a blog that deals with obsessive-compulsive disorder or self-mutilation. I know one blog where the mother discusses her former alcoholism. At least that's some form of self-destruction.

Being mediocre is obviously the healthy, if not insanely interesting, way to go.

2009-08-02T01:23:00.000-04:00

p.s. I want to cry because I see/need/want several herbal supplements, and none of them are affordable.

2009-08-02T01:18:00.000-04:00

-~~dust the house~~

~~-vacuum and spot-treat the carpet~~

-mow the lawn

-fix the mower to mow the lawn

-sweep the driveway

-sand/paint the living room

-hang photos

-~~make sure I have Coca-Cola, ham, and sharp cheddar (shit! forgot bread!)~~

the preparations for my father don't seem like a great deal, but they've stressed me out to the point of lethargy this past week. no sex drive, no happiness, no laughter. I feel like I did right after having Ben. I thought I was over this.

2009-07-29T13:02:00.001-04:00

I have a week before my father comes down, but I just find myself reading all day, instead of cooking and cleaning. Ben has luckily been going through a sleeping spell, so I get enough time to myself.

I cleaned my cat's ears. I cleaned my dog's ears. I feel abusive towards my dogs because the fencing is not complete, and with a blue tic hound, it is inevitable that they try to run off and go sniff other yards, chase cats, and generally be nuisances. they have tie-outs until we can finish closing in the yard. they're sleeping off the bones and chicken left-overs, happy to be in this pathetic air-conditioning.

my husband sees disturbing tendencies in me that he compares to his mother. she is manic-depressive, and has lived her life very fluidly, with no solid foundation for herself or her family. I found out the other day that I cannot take my favorite, most helpful supplement, St. John's Wort. It affects the Pill's effectiveness. I have to order Rhodiola on-line as a potential replacement for what has helped me function after Ben. reading depressing books featuring characters suffering from PPD has not helped. remind me to give that book back.

I am addicted to Chapstick and cigarettes. I would kill for a bicycle, but we need to pay huge electric bills (the city owns the cooperative) and feed the cats, who let a giant black stray tom steal all their food outside. I feed them both in and out, to avoid fights between my queen cat and the polydactyl kitten that has taken over the house. she enjoys chewing on magazines, sleeping on my head, and licking Ben to death.

I really wanted to go to Missouri and see friends and family before fall and winter, but that looks less and less likely.

mental health, blast from the past

2009-07-22T14:42:00.001-04:00

I guess with anyone, I have good days and I have bad days. they are easily determined: did I get a letter in the mail? did I run out of cigarettes? did Benjamin wake up cranky? am I feeling creative? have I gotten the chores done? did I perform basic hygienic chores, such as brushing my teeth or putting on clean clothing?

usually there is an underlying problem that is exacerbated by these simple issues, turning a small sore into a seething boil of rage and frustration. I get mad at what I can't control. I get mad at emotions I feel I have no say over, actions made by people I feel consistently failed by.

so someone who appears to be Kyle's girlfriend sent me a message asking how I knew him. I responded as such:

I dated him on/off for seven years.

and you are?

and later, because I am impatient and feeling the need to justify myself to someone who might not even exist:

I guess I am to assume you are his girlfriend. I'm not sure how you found me, but searching for people on the internet is exceedingly easy.

I am extremely curious as to why you had to ask who I was. I expected him to tell everyone what a horrible, psychotic human being I am. However, I somehow lack the capacity to be seriously concerned about my tarnished image at a Christian college in rural Missouri. I hope he's treating you well, though that would be a first on his part.

If this is Kyle, I do not see why you are contacting me. I do not care if you kill yourself this time. I will not bail you out. I only hope someone else has the sympathy required to help you. I have better things to do.

I am sure I sound stand-offish and harsh, but trust me, long story.

I feel stupid, upset, and I wonder why I should even bother with this. what do I derive out of some eighteen year old who is curious?

Travis,

bring me some cigarettes home all ready.

2009-07-20T18:59:00.001-04:00

I guess I'm going to have to allow for the possibility that this will not be the next best blog in the world, followed by thousands. while I would settle for... fifty? yeah. that sounds good.

I am lacking two things in that endeavor: several friends to e-mail this to, and shit that pertains enough to the general public to elicit a feedback.

Travis and I were going to swim at a local lake with our friends, James and Amanda. we had childcare: Ben was safely being spoiled at his grandmother's in Gainesville. his sister couldn't watch him (she was busy watching one of two grandchildren, with two more making their entrance in five months) but was nice enough to tell him that the chance of rain was 70%,

well, I think God knew about my plans, 'cause it stormed and poured before 10 a.m.

we went bowling, ate horrible food, and then left the boys to game to go scrapbook shopping. I put away the five dollar farm stickers, thank you very much. I'm in the process of making a few frames for Ben: I hope that the gifts I make out of this don't make people feel sorry for me. like they feel they have to thank me for photo frames they don't really like or want. I hope I can develop this into an actual skill.

I have a kitten on my knees, hunting the dogs we dragged inside because of a potentially hazardous thunderstorm coming nearby. Trav doesn't think it'll go anywhere close: his geography is much better than mine.

been feeling like crap. took my birth control 12 hours early one day (I know, right? I mistook taking it with my St. John's Wort), took it three hours late the next day, and one hour late today. I think I should just restart, but I don't want to go to Walgreens. I don't think I fucked it up that badly. yet.

must go and Maple with Travis. I have a pirate character.

ingot of black

2009-07-15T19:28:00.001-04:00

I taught myself, after three weeks without a computer, to not throw the laptop when I'm pissed off. the bitch of it is I don't really know what made me feel that angry; I was feeling vaguely unappreciated. Travis and I pick at each other.

my mother throws things, too.

speaking of my mother, she had severe issues with her knee that made her trip to Florida two days late. she's walking okay, but as I told my sister, knowing your mother is getting older and seeing it are two different things entirely.

we hung out, shopped. I introduced her to Starbucks. we gossiped and discussed and she approved of my house, my cats, and my baby. the whole experience was much better than I hoped for, in spite of our rocky past. she cried and hugged me (for the first time) when she said goodbye. still getting over missing her, having someone to look forward to seeing. I mentioned going up to see them, but honestly we can't afford that right now. and by the time we can, it'll be winter and I'll be working, depressed and chainsmoking. you can tell how excited I am about going back to my job.

been taking St. John's Wort. it helped for two days. I'm back to feeling lethargic. but okay. now taking SAM-e.

I don't know. I feel guilty for the house being a mess, I feel guilty for having Travis feed the dogs or change Ben after he's been at work all day. I feel so guilty for asking for help. Travis isn't exactly jumping at the chance to help, either. when he does want to do something, it's pulling out a stump that my flowers are growing on, pulling out the floors.

I'm still mad at him for not helping out as much when I was pregnant, let alone now. I'm tired of the excuse 'well, you're at home all day'. I hate that no one has offered to take Ben for a few hours, and I feel bad for asking. honestly, I think sometimes that people are punishing me for getting pregnant by refusing to help now.

I have to go make a shopping list.

2009-06-19T00:23:00.000-04:00

I should be in bed.

there are so many tree frogs on my glass doors. I found two in the house and released them outside.

I have a polydactyl kitten that was found in in the ceiling of my sister's shop. she is malnourished, but after three days of milk, turkey, ham, and lovin', she's starting to look better. I've never seen a cat with this genetic quirk before. she had not been previously handled, but she talks, plays, and enjoys being a nuisance. She is anywhere from 4-6 weeks old; emaciation throws off a more precise guess. it has always made me happy to fix broken cats and teach them to be people. I don't, however, think I want to be a veterinarian. when I know what I want to be (other than a badass), I'll let you know.

rambling like I am means I should probably go to sleep.

ellipsis

2009-06-15T17:49:00.000-04:00

"I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you. Things are crazy and honestly I’m not sure what to say. Is thank you appropriate? Is 'I love you' enough? It’s an old, old wound for me that I’ve had a lot longer to get used to than you. If you want to talk to me about it, or anything, I’m here. I mean that. On the other hand, I also understand if you can’t talk about it or if you’d just rather not. Either way I miss you and it means a great deal that you even responded.

<3"

does her bipolarity really surprise me after so many years?

yes, yes it does.

wet kitchen floor

2009-06-15T06:40:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was a good day. We've been working on the yard, disposing of all the build-up from years of heavy rains that have deposited in the back yard. Travis was pulling stumps, chopping up fire knot for later use. Before working on the yard, however, we packed ourselves in the car, buying coffee and donuts and driving throughout town, just talking and goofing off. I wish we had this more often. days like that make the bad days okay.

he figured out that calling my sex forced was a guarantee in a lack thereof. lately I've actually been in the mood, however, so we're making up for a lot of lost time.

VH1 is pretty cool. talk about a guilty addiction.

we saw Trav's sister Mayme and her family. I felt on the defense; I played with my niece-in-law's children and listened to Mayme tell me that Ben just needs patting to keep from crying, and do I have to bounce him like that? he was tired, full of poop, and needed to go fuss it out. I understood it, but let her go with her theories. It angered me to be questioned; it took her nine weeks to see him, and now she's offering advice? no thank you. He has four fat rolls to each thigh, not to mention the ring of neck fat. he smiles now, which is a welcome sight. must be doing something right.

my father advised me to keep on the lookout for angry outbursts from Ben and to deal with them properly; a light smack and a 'no'. I was skeptical; I didn't want to hit my son. I felt bad at the thought. Anger management issues and are common in my family, though, so to nip this in the bud now would be ideal. Dad had another explanation: babies had to learn to be quiet very quickly a long time ago or be eaten. They can learn this and other habits at a young age. and if some of those less-than-desired habits aren't stamped out now, the 'terrible twos' are imminent. I tried it, and holy shit: my son understands 'no' now. When I put him down to warm up a bottle (banana, rice cereal, and milk) he has a bitch fit. This, however, has been corrected. 'Benjamin, no' changes his behavior very quickly; if it doesn't, he gets a smack on that fat thigh of his. If it continues, it usually means it's something else bugging him, and as such he gets soothed. very easy to implement, with minimal pain on either side.

things are good now, but I don't expect things to stay that way; by the end of the week I'm usually a wreck.

wrote to a certain math teacher again. wonder what he'll say?

yeah, I took it hard

2009-06-12T14:12:00.000-04:00

Travis called me 'cold and malcontent'.

2009-06-11T13:34:00.000-04:00

I need my school ring back.

making this made me feel better.

2009-06-07T10:38:00.000-04:00

having a hard time doing math.

proud

2009-06-02T14:11:00.000-04:00

poisoned

Tue, Aug 19, 2008 at 10:08 PM

To: Nor Bert

I wish you were around.

Nor Bert

Fri, May 29, 2009 at 12:56 PM

To: poisoned

I wish I could explain. I miss you.

[Quoted text hidden]

poisoned

Fri, May 29, 2009 at 5:42 PM

To: Nor Bert

it took me too long to get over you and your brother.

our lives are so far apart. it's pretty unimaginable to think we have much to compare to, to dissect and discuss. I'm happily chained down, though sometimes I feel blasé for not living the same life.

how do I talk to you and love you with everything that happened between your brother and I? do you even know? how can I say anything negative when he's your blood? I've moved on but there are still holes left by the two of you. I was so angry. there are days I still am.

if you want to talk, my phone number is 352-553-7202. but you didn't call me before, so what am I to expect?

Annie

Nor Bert

Tue, Jun 2, 2009 at 1:24 PM

To: poisoned

I'm not looking for a reunion. Closure, maybe. Or something more cathartic. Unfortunately, what I have to say would probably twist everything you think you know about what happened between you, me, and my brother. You cannot say anything that would make me think worse of him. The fact that you think that means that he never told you, not that I ever thought he'd have the decency to.

I don't think you understand, but then I know I don't understand. Something is so lost between us and I've never been able to figure out what to do about it. You're definitely right that there is some vast disconnect between us, which only seems worse on the phone. And perhaps here too. This, primarily, is why I never called and most likely never will.

Mind you, I've never understood why you insisted on seeing us as two parts of the same person. He and I are anything but alike and you can't know how much it's tortured me to be treated as a part of him. Seemingly you have no idea how angry it makes me that you would hold him his actions against me when you were the one that chose him. How could you love me? Dear god, I almost hope you don't want me to explain how fucked up that one sentence is. Even if the situation were simple, I'm not sure our friendship would have lasted through me being dragged into a your relationship with him. As it stands, it's taken me years to get to a point where I could start to deal with it, where I could stop pretending neither of you existed. In your case, that was unfair and I'm truly sorry.

As bitter or confused as I may sound, I just hope you'll hear this with an open mind. And while I've not had the luxury of simply moving on, my life pretty much has. . . it's just that I feel like I owe you some sort of explanation if you still want it.

[Quoted text hidden]

poisoned

Tue, Jun 2, 2009 at 2:11 PM

To: Nor Bert

I just remember the girl I knew. you changed so much in such a short period of time in Memphis, it disfigured my views of you. because I didn't physically see you change, I figured you were the same. stupid, but human. I was never that good at empathy anyway. I wish you knew how I told everyone about you, how much I cared for you, that I told people that you were my family, my everything. I thought we'd always be together, entwined.

I don't understand that you two can be so different, no. tunnel vision. you were close in age, dealt with the same issues, and looked alike; what was I to do? and mind you, while my siblings and I are 11 and 18 years apart, respectively, with all the shit that ensues with that sort of separation, we are alike. I'm as paranoid and confrontational as my brother, with the demand for agreement and submission from my sister. we don't even have the same father, but we finish each others' sentences. I couldn't expect that from the two of you? it wasn't that I ever questioned your individual selves. you weren't as open as he was, and I fit you in his skewed self views. it was unfair of me to prefer him, but I did. you had left me in the wayside anyway, though mostly not by intention.

I get mad. I didn't take the weak road of ignoring my past, I fought through it. you never answered the phone, and it broke my heart every time. I wanted you, just you. I don't have to dignify my own struggles on here. suffice to say, it was long, hard, and I lost a lot of myself for months before finally throwing myself into work, finding and loving someone who was stronger than myself, who worked through his shit and didn't hold it against the world. I hold him above all others. he didn't hurt me, he didn't leave me alone in squander, he didn't ignore me for a better life. he's my weapon against all those who have and still hurt me. I'm still not sure, sometimes, of what I provide for him, but it's more than I could ever give to either of you.

and you know, my friends aren't you, because no one in this world could be, but they were reliable. and they answered the phone when I called. I needed that the most, and I couldn't get that from you.

you come off as someone on the attack. and it shouldn't be like that. I always wanted you to come find me, but not like this. if you don't have the guts to call, fine, but don't blame it on that 'vast disconnect'. it was a product of our actions, and it could always be rectified. I guess that infinitely hopeful part of myself wants to hear your voice, and we could talk about seeing each other and how life is, and what we've done to broaden ourselves. I know, however, with the hostility, it would probably just be an epic failure. but I would still try. I try so hard not to antagonize either of you, but I never walked away. and I will always hold that against both of you.

I will always love you. I have a tattoo on my left arm with the lyrics 'and I knew the echo that is love'. you taught me that, at least.

I wish you would tell me what happened after he left; I just know he was calling all sorts of girls from college, as well as Melissa, never letting on that we were together. I was so desperate to keep him with me, I would have done anything, accepted anything. I was hurting myself pretty badly, but he never interfered. he let me down, but I guess we all did that to each other. I shouldn't be so angry about everything, but I'm also trying to understand what I did that was so wrong to be left at my worst. Travis taught me, however, that there doesn't have to be a reason. I try to hold that in my heart and gain closure over everyone who has ever let me down.

I figure if I can forgive my parents, I could forgive you. but you have to let me, let love, let all this shit in. I know I have to open and restitch these wounds. I have to be at my best for my husband and son.

the day that never comes

2009-05-27T02:12:00.001-04:00

I hate looking at social networking sites. I don't want to know what everyone else is doing. it makes me jealous (of what? it's not like I even like these people) , and that makes me feel foolish.

Travis's birthday is Thursday. I don't know what to do to make him smile. I wish I could buy him a wedding band or some useful tool he wouldn't get for himself. clothing?

today I went for my 6 week check-up. like I said, needless; I all ready knew I was okay. I did get birth control, and she wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant used for those also suffering from anxiety. It's called buspirone, and while it is not indicated for OCD, because I haven't had many problems associated with it within the last few years it might be the thing. however, the prescription is only for three months, and the effects will take several weeks. by the time I'll get used to it I'll run out. also, I don't think Travis approves of the meds; to him it seems that my issues are just a matter of self-control. I might be misrepresenting his opinion, but he hasn't indicated otherwise. I think I'll wait for the birth control to take effect and go from there.

I want to be skinny again.

been working on the living room; took the base molding down, removed the old curtain rods, now sanding down the plaster I used to fix the holes. then: paint!

I'm tired

2009-05-26T02:32:00.000-04:00

of doing everything.

you should appreciate me more.

feeding him one bottle, changing one diaper doesn't exonerate you from responsibility. you use work as an excuse, but you know, the sheriff next door does the grocery shopping, bathes his son, and is generally useful. my father didn't just come home to flop on the couch while I cooked and cleaned. you make me so mad. I ask you to take out the trash for pick-up; it's still there. vacuuming? nope. taking Ben for the night, like you promised? obviously not. move the t.v. stand for me? yes, I would do these things, but I was busy: I cooked you dinner, made Ben's bottles, cleaned the kitchen, picked up after your ass, re-spackled the drywall, did a load of laundry, re-sorted and organized all the bills (that I pay), fed the dogs, cleaned up after the dogs, and shopped so you didn't have to pick up baby food.

you gamed from the time you came home until I shook you awake at midnight. it doesn't matter, though, because you worked all day. you have your job. I have your son. if I don't nap, you scold me, but if I do, you use it against me; "well, I don't get to nap during the day". I usually don't either, so stop acting like I've got the easy end. I try and make myself as functional and useful as possible to keep myself occupied, but there is too much to do in this house for one person. you don't thank me, you don't offer to help out. I have to cajole and bug, nag you to get so much as a basket of laundry folded.

I wish I could walk of the door for a week. maybe you'd figure out how good I was to you, instead of getting mad at me for asking for help. I doubt it, though.

edit: Trav got up at 6:30 and did what I asked him. I felt bad, because I had set the alarm to do it myself. I felt bad for being mad at him; he didn't know I was that upset. I'm glad he took some responsibility.

I feel bad; he brought me flowers, and he still hasn't got laid from it. not exactly how a healthy sexual relationship should work, right?

keep me in your heart for awhile

2009-05-23T14:12:00.000-04:00

the house is a mess. Ben's legs are hanging off the couch. Travis is stretched out on the bed, asleep after taking the boy for the night. we celebrated last night; a year ago we goofed off at a sports bar and chain smoked in his living room until three a.m. we saw Star Trek and ate at a sushi restaurant owned and operated by cocaine addicts. it was pretty rockin'.

my body's doing good. been working out with Amanda, my long legged doppleganger. replacing fat with muscle. feeling rough. it rained six days in a row here. I was a tad depressed. started eating again after a week of trying to starve. it wasn't wise, but being in control of my body has given me a sense of relief and confidence.

I want to see people.

2009-05-16T01:03:00.000-04:00

Travis,

I miss everything about you. you're asleep on the couch, and I don't want to bug you by being torn up inside again. you don't know what to do with me; it's okay. neither do I. but I want you to know I'd do anything for you. I'm sorry about this rough patch; I know it's been miserable. I wish you'd read this and know how I felt, and comment on my journal like you used to.

I've known you for a year next week. do you regret it? I don't.

I still want to be with you. I don't know what's going on inside, and it's scaring me. I wish you could help. I wish I didn't need that help. sometimes I think you just don't care, and that hurts, that uncertainty. you stopped paying attention.

when I'm at my worst I want to leave to see if you'd miss me.

like I told you last night, I haven't felt this bad since Kyle left me.

I wish you could stay home until I got myself turned around again. being alone like this is killing me. that's what it feels like, anyway.

I love you. stop getting mad at me.

Annie

that mojito song

2009-05-12T23:38:00.001-04:00

and in the daylight we can hitchhike to maine
i hope that someday i’ll see without these frames
and in the daylight i don’t pick up my phone
cause in the daylight anywhere feels like home

going 100 in a 55

2009-05-12T21:52:00.000-04:00

what frustrates me is that while I feel okay enough to be normal again (give or take fatigue and the weight), every single website says wait, take your time.

but what if it's for the worse to wait?

I know it hurts me to wait any longer; I'm driven nuts by not looking my best, by not giving my husband what we both want.

I feel fine. other than, you know, giving up breastfeeding because a) I didn't make enough, b) feeding him every 2-3 hours was driving both of us nuts, and c) I felt like a failure because I started smoking again and was paranoid to let any nicotine into his system.

I talked to Melissa today, after months of silence. nothing negative, we just do that.

I drive the 'champagne bullet', a Buick LeSabre. it's so ghetto. seriously.

I'm going to go smoke. what? me? sleep? fuck that.

turn this frown upside down

2009-05-10T05:49:00.000-04:00

I need a break.

marlboro medium shorts in a box,

2009-05-03T01:44:00.000-04:00

please.

cancel that VW Passat. it was an on-line scam. we lost money. I want to kill people. my mother wants to help us get a vehicle; my sister informed me that she was only helping because she had to. Travis doesn't want any help at all. I want to be able to pay it back.

kids tease my beautiful, driven niece for still having an imagination, for having make-believe. I want to kill them all, because I see pain in her eyes. I see her drawing into herself, unhappy with how she looks, with few friends.

I see myself in her. and I want to fix it all.

Ben's been grumpy the last two days; I'm going to blame it on a lack of sleep/growth spurt. his growth has been unimaginable to Travis; I don't notice it that much. my son is long and lean, a piglet who smiles in his sleep and cries when he's awake.

I'm scared to let anybody else touch him or take care of him. that includes Travis. I want to run away from myself. it's hard to stay occupied, but unless the house is perfect and I'm decent, I don't want anyone near me.

post-partum

2009-04-28T02:42:00.000-04:00

I'm supposed to feel better by now.

my sister keeps checking in on me. I'm starting to feel watched. went back to smoking after hours of baby screaming. looked up so many studies on nicotine and breast milk to make sure I wasn't killing him. not to mention him falling from the couch in a bitch fit. I have never felt more horrible in my life. he seems okay; no bruising, no daze. I didn't handle it very well. there's been a lot of crying on both sides.

Travis hasn't been handling this well; he's been too tired. Ben and I are on the couch right now to let him sleep.

in the process of buying a 2002 Volkswagen Passat. should have it today or tomorrow. even with a second vehicle, I don't think I'll want to leave the house.

it's been rough.

worth it, but rough. and hard to put in perspective.

screaming baby

2009-04-24T05:31:00.001-04:00

dear Ben's digestion,

please stop making his belly hurt.

thanks,

Annie

we call him squishy puppy booger

2009-04-20T12:32:00.000-04:00

baby making isn't hard.

Last Monday a storm system went through and triggered my water breaking. We waited until morning to go to the hospital, and halfway through labor I asked for an epidural. it was a hard decision to make; I felt like a wuss, nobody would check to see how dilated I was to reduce infection because my water broke so long ago and I had tested possible for SGB, which could be passed to the child in delivery and give him a lung infection. I didn't want to get an epidural without knowing how dilated I was, because I wanted to avoid taking pitocin and the potential for slowed labor. all my plans were laid to waste, but I had a baby who scored a 9 on the apgar and pissed on the nurse who took him off of my breast.

scheduling is our main concern this morning; I was up from 1-7 this morning dealing with the farting wonder. the weight's coming off, I'm ravenous, breastfeeding has been thankfully easy, and Ben likes yogurt - an attempt to ease the fussiness caused by digestion.

and finally, after ten months of feeling like I lost my mind, paranoid and lacking in affection and libido, I feel like myself. a much more volatile version of myself, but it's me again, horny and laughing and not picking at my husband. never felt so good in my life. I guilt trip badly over just sitting at the house, watching my son fidget in his bassinet, but overall it's been real good.

all those horror stories, nasty things said to me, catty bitches, have been usurped. back to finding what will make me happy.

Benjamin Morgan

2009-04-18T23:14:00.000-04:00

about time

2009-04-13T23:36:00.001-04:00

water broke.

2009-04-13T08:15:00.001-04:00

Sick and tired of having to pee.

cotton candy

2009-04-05T04:46:00.000-04:00

I wish I would go into labor so I could avoid my own baby shower.

Get-togethers in my honor are embarrassing. I had a birthday party when I was seven, and out of forty kids we invited five showed up; my mother told me 'never again'. I tried as much as possible to convey the thought that I didn't want anything organized. If someone wanted to get me something, it should be of their own discretion, not because they felt they had to after receiving an invitation. After months of no mention, I spent my own money getting everything we needed. The only thing missing is a car seat/stroller, and we are just going to pay for it out of pocket - after all, the only one that showed promise in keeping Ben safe while not being a gaudy nuisance costs well over three hundred dollars. Like I expect someone to pick that up for me.

Travis's sisters insisted, however, at the last minute, and Travis talked me into it to keep the peace. My only stipulations for this shower was that everyone (boys, too) were invited and it would be on a Saturday so two co-workers could attend.

Well, fuck that.

I didn't know when it was until two weeks ago, so anybody at Walgreens who may have wanted to attend didn't have a chance to re-schedule, the party falling on a Sunday. My sister didn't want to come, citing that it was too awkward to meet his family under such circumstances - I let it go. Two couples from his family have already bailed on it (even though I went to one's baby shower). I have one friend attending. One co-worker said she'd try to make it, but I can't drive from being so big, so the plan to meet up and go together so she didn't get lost has gone to bust.

And Travis is working today. He left at 3:30 this morning to try and be back in time for the party. I've been up since 1, stewing over this and more.

Did I mention I feel like a fat cow from all this water retention? that I've never been so ashamed of being pregnant from how bad I feel and look? that the last thing I want is to be around a bunch of people I don't trust, receiving shit I'm supposed to feel grateful for? I'd rather be broke and proud.

I've been house-bound for the last week, and I have been quite good at not making Travis fetch me something from the grocery store every time he came home, or making him leave the house once he's back from work. I've been trying real hard to put as little pressure on him as possible; he's working sixty hours a week, he's stressing out over getting the nursery done, and he hasn't had a lot of time to unwind. I've been trying so hard to keep the peace in spite of my discomfort, and none of it seems to have done me any good. I've kept up the housework and tried not to go ape-shit. I feel unreciprocated. I wish I didn't have to do all the dishes, all the laundry, all the cleaning, all the bullshit paperwork - everything he procrastinates on. It would be nice to know that if I let everything go for one day, he would pick up the slack. Or, if not that, then at least appreciation for what he doesn't have to do. If I try bringing anything up, well, you know, I'm the one who gets to be at home all day, and would I like to trade? I should be happy to be so alone. I should be so grateful to wait for you without so much as a phone call to see how I'm doing. I don't have anybody guiding me through this. I don't have a shoulder to lean on but for yours. Don't turn me away now.

Being at home was supposed to be less stressful.

Throughout all this, we're trying to find a vehicle that's reasonably priced, safe, and something I would like. And it seems like with anything else lately, it's as though it went from what I want to what Travis (or insert any name) thinks. It's not that I don't disagree with him entirely, but I feel like the actual decision was out of my hands a long time ago.

I've been eating my pride to avoid rocking the boat. My belly's full and I wish I could throw it all back up, so I wouldn't be so ashamed of myself for rolling over and accommodating.

meaningless, futile rage

2009-04-01T17:05:00.001-04:00

A midwife poked her finger 'almost, but not quite entirely' into my cervix today. This indicated that I'm starting to efface and dilate to nearly one centimeter. This sounds like an exciting bit of news, but rather than clinging to the thought that I might not be carrying all this weight (214 lbs) for much longer, that this will be over soon, mostly this ob/gyn appointment just served to upset me. Pain makes me mad, and with my legs up in the air, Travis holding my hand, I wanted to hurt somebody because I was in pain. Not to mention crying before the procedure, because being internally examined is a frightening, embarrassing experience that I would have avoided, but my husband came with me so I kind-of couldn't duck out. He soothed me. I hated needing to be soothed. I hate 'needing' to go to the doctor, and I wish I could just stop dealing with them after the birth. I wish they'd just give me a script for birth control (why can't the pill be over -the-counter?) to start taking after I am done breastfeeding. I don't want to see any of those fuckers again. I just want to get back to normal.

miserable

2009-03-26T07:59:00.000-04:00

Instead of printing photos, getting that paperwork for the mortgage faxed off, going clothing shopping for my husband, running a load of laundry, or cleaning the kitchen, I'm taking my laptop, curling in our bed, and hiding from everything.

it will be over soon.

(edit 3/27: I napped until noon, then forced myself up. everything was accomplished except for the mortgage paperwork, an endeavor I'll try to accomplish today. my bleakest part of the day is in the morning, alone in a cool house with another pile of shit to do. I've also been reading a blog on post-baby sex/body image/weight loss here and I have to tell you, I feel hopeless all ready. and I feel bad for not giving blow jobs and hand jobs on demand. I feel like the worst, most selfish human being, a sham of a wife.)

2009-03-25T06:36:00.000-04:00

let me tell you what I've done since I last had internet.

- I beat my husband in the head with an empty milk jug at four o'clock in the morning. I get up early to take him to work, because we share my truck. the tax refund that paid for the shiny laptop I picked out also will be going to aforementioned vehicle; because of safety concerns involving me and my son (yes, you heard right, and his name is Benjamin) Travis will let me get no less than a tank to drive around in. as long as it's not a tiny car (as economical and efficient as that would be) I don't care. I just don't want to be scared to drive. the milk jug was left empty in the fridge, and I just made oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins. and what goes better with that than milk? until I open the fridge and find not even enough to entice a cat by. I whaled on him.

and let me tell you, don't worry about salt retention when you're pregnant. all those tears remove sodium quite nicely.

- I left work a month early because I was seriously worried I was going to yell at a customer. I did yell at a co-worker or two, mostly because they were lazy and hey, let's just make Annie do it. she's only 6... 7... 8... months pregnant. one thing I will never, never do is work in the public eye while pregnant again. most of my customers were oblivious enough to not notice my bulging belly until the last month. my job wanted me to move water palettes and work on the ladder until I put my foot down.... in February. And I still had problems after that. it was hard for me to say no, because I was always their go-to girl. Travis finally said to me that if I miscarry while working for them doing something stupid, what can they do? apologize? hey, sorry we pushed you too far. After that revelation I stood up for myself better.

- my 'morning sickness' was a reaction to the iron in my multi-vitamin. I stopped taking any supplements, to the chagrin of anyone I told - which is another thing. be prepared to put your foot down about your opinions. I had one person tell me my baby was going to have cystic fibrosis because I wasn't taking the right vitamin. my midwives frowned upon me for refusing to take fancy tests to determine if my kid was deformed or retarded. I only took the blood tests required because Travis asked me to. Ben will not be vaccinated unless absolutely necessary. I told Travis to not let him out of sight in the hospital. unless we have to put him in daycare, he will not get a shot until kindergarten.

- these last two weeks have been rough physically; the zombie baby has been growing so much my skin is stretching and I can feel it tear. lots of lotion. sleep is getting better - I had been closing most nights (thanks to not being able to be their little bitch anymore) and then getting up to drive Travis to work, stay up for a couple of hours, then sleep until my shift. it was a bad way to be, and seriously affected my attitude. I finally started chewing my Flintstones and taking Viactiv in addition to my diet; my water retention started getting to me, but the dumb bitch of a midwife could only tell me to stay away from salt. thanks. i.e., no shit. my mother told me to eat bananas, and that has helped a great deal. I still have some swelling, but I'm not too bad. my face is puffy at times and I feel like a behemoth, but I am looking forward to getting back in shape, to taking care of Ben, of self-renewal.

- work done to the house included painting the nursery a bright, scary green and ripping out the flooring. I have a bassinet for Ben, and by the time he is big enough for his crib we should have flooring (red, earthy tile) done. this house is completely original to its 1976 build. a lot of work is needing to be done, but because it is all cosmetic, we've been able to do things a little at a time without worrying about time frame. I know my house doesn't look great right now, but we have big plans for it and I married a geek and and an ace of trades. he can do most of this by himself. I've gotten into the groove of house cleaning, and other than the bathroom (it scares me. seriously. drain holes and bodily fluid, even if it is ours, bother me. so far this has been the only strong manifestation of my adolescent anxiety.) it's relatively intact. once I am better able to move, everything should get a lot better. that's my hope.

- Travis has been a trooper throughout this really rough patch; he hasn't been getting laid and it takes a toll on him like nothing I've seen. my desire fragged out right around the time I got pregnant, and I hope that once things have settled back down we can get back into that comfortable groove that was our sex life. I have issues from past relationships that need to be addressed, too. I miss being close to him, but I have no urge to initiate; between my self-image and the discomfort, it hasn't been worth it. I don't want to do it just for him though. I don't feel like it's a manifestation of love when I'm just appeasing him to get him to stay out of a grumpy mood; that's not fair to either of us. however, he needs his release. he's backed off the subject, especially with the due date so close, and for that I love him. I beat myself up for not being able to make this stressful time for him easier, but I don't want to have to worry about it right now. we're both worried about post-partum depression and the house and all sorts of other things. I can't afford to go psycho again now. too much riding on my shoulders. sometimes I think he's still worried I'll run off and disappear. I'd be crippled without him, though. I never thought I'd love someone more than Kyle, but Trav and I fit together so tightly I can't imagine breaking that bond we have. it helps that we have a kid, too. or will. really soon.

I'm sure I missed a thousand things to mention, but I have all the time in the world right now. I'm sure I'll remember eventually.

thanks for reading this; thanks for existing. it's been so lonely.

stop playing

2008-11-03T12:10:00.000-05:00

For the first time ever, I bought pajamas.

I used to walk around naked when I felt good. this was in the last six months.

I like thinking about first getting to know Travis, and every day finding something a little more interesting about him. he has new, different useless information that I was unknown to. did you know a paper towel roll is called a dowel? or that tharn is the phenomenon where deer are caught in the headlights?

I had a crush on him for a year before finally being free from any relationships. I loved his crooked nose. he always looked angry when he came to my store to deliver Pepsi. he thought I was a man hating militant.

we made each other laugh so hard last night it hurt. and I miss him. I wish I could always be around him, because he's always accepting a hug or a kiss and it's easier to just give in to my affections. he comes to work to see me just about every day. he makes it worth trying for.

this whole, 'growing child inside the uterus' thing is scary and bright.

2008-11-01T12:07:00.000-04:00

I am tired of throwing up.

We had Halloween at my house last night with my niece. it involved pizza.

my house is a mess because I haven't been feeling right for three days now. all of which I was off from work. coincidental. I'm sure when I'm dealing with a trashed photo lab tomorrow I'll be feeling physically great. and emotionally broken.

Travis has been a lot better, mostly because my libido picked back up to a trickle. he's been doting and helpful. he wants me to see the doctor for feeling so ill. I keep telling him no; I'm not paying twenty bucks so someone can palpate my pregnant belly and be unable to tell me anything, let alone give me anything, because of said condition. the last time I went to any sort of medical authority for my stomach, I was told a) I might have stomach cancer, b) I had irritable bowel syndrome, and/or c) it was just 'female pains'. it took well over a month and a four hour drive for a specialist to listen to me when I said that it was my stomach, not my belly.

I had an ulcer.

We finally gave in and bought a camera, a Canon PowerShot SD790 IS. The timing for the shutter is great, and the quality is badass without going to commercial class camera. I chose this after two years of fixing Sony and Nikon cameras for customers who couldn't handle the programming or the lag time. My problem is my weight gain has not merely gone to my belly, and thus I feel self-conscious like in high school. In July I was down to 140 pounds. Now I'm at 170. and I am ashamed. needlessly, of course, but it's still there.

it's lonely down here with all these Republicans.

work, fishing, structural changes

2008-10-22T07:19:00.000-04:00

this job has gotten worse; not only did all of us in the photo lab take the fall for my head photo's grievous refusal to lead and follow district orders, but I was stuck with the clean-up of the lab. Travis was furious. working with the photo chemicals isn't bad, but it shouldn't be an option. (me telling them no is hard for me to do; they get pissed) my fat, infertile supervisor should have done it. on that note, she's trying to tell my boss that she can't switch a shift with me because she has a doctor's appointment. on a Saturday afternoon. a day I specifically requested to work a morning shift to attend a huge Halloween party with everyone in the family and at the shop attending. I'll probably skip that shift, which, while the irresponsibility bothers me, will make me happy that I'm actually going out and doing something (please send friends. and fudge. it's lonely down here.)

I've been defending Obama at work. some girl was foolish enough to say that the only reason some people are voting for Obama is because of his color. my retort was that McCain specifically chose Palin to get the vagina vote. McCain was proud to say he voted with Bush 90% of the time. he seems to think women lie about their health to get abortions. there is nothing cooler than having an embryo sucked out of my uterus, and all my friends want to do it. jeez, McCain, you saw right through me.

took husband fishing yesterday at Judy's lake. we survived. didn't catch a fucking thing.

my hips and knees have been hurting enough to keep me from sleeping at night.

out of 'it'

2008-10-14T17:20:00.000-04:00

I hate waiting for people who never show up.

I hate not having a decent cookbook.

I hate my job calling me twice in a day because they can't figure out anything and don't bother asking our head photo who was working at the time.

I hate the idea of forgiving anyone who has hurt me. I'd rather hurt them back. I'd rather go after them. I'd rather make my anger known and make it an example for others to follow. don't mess with me.

I hate that I have exes who, after a year of me ignoring them, decide that it's perfectly cool to try talking to me again.

I'm going to go walk with my harmonica.

tangent

2008-10-10T22:42:00.001-04:00

I had a friend in Walgreens named Bill. he worked at the store three blocks from my house, and when I had insomnia I'd go hang out with him. we'd talk for hours, smoking and rambling and straightening.

he stopped talking to me after I cut myself up. he was a trainwreck who made me feel okay and normal until he saw how badly I hurt myself and suddenly I wasn't worth his time, his effort, his emotions. to be so badly rejected when I clearly needed a friend broke me up badly enough to seek psychiatric help. it was the worst mistake of my life, and because of some clinical aide's overreaction I was almost Baker Acted, where Florida decides that you can't take care of yourself and locks you up with the drug addicts and the vagrants.

his girlfriend was an absolute bitch, and she broke his heart all the time. I hated her, and I loved him. I brought coffee for him once and she had a bitch fit because she showed up when I was there. he didn't tell her that we went out for coffee at three a.m. the night before, and that I was just reciprocating the gesture.

yesterday he added me on MySpace. no signs of that ever-so-important girl of his. 'still believing in forever' and beautiful and naive things that I can no longer stand in my jaded, otherside views, in spite of my husband and inuterine alien.

so I'm angry that he's trying to come back into my life, and I'm angry that he and so many others didn't think I was worth the time, the effort to love and cherish. but that's okay, because I have better. I can say that Travis iss the best man I've ever met. he is proof that a fuck-up like me can be loved unconditionally. and he appreciates that I love him like I tried to love so many. and I wouldn't give that up.

on that note, I need Norbert to GIVE ME MY HIGH SCHOOL RING BACK. if she doesn't have the decency to respond to my repeated attempts at contact, she obviously isn't worth the love symbolized by that ring.

2008-10-10T11:54:00.000-04:00

"what happened to your surname? X"

"my husband ate it. :\"

2008-10-09T18:52:00.001-04:00

I have no inspiration. My life revolves around impotent rage.

2008-10-04T20:30:00.000-04:00

we're starting to plan colors and floors for the house. earth tones and lighter colors for the nursery. my husband decided to take me to Lowe's to show me all the cool things he found.

the next time I go to Lowe's, I'm going alone.

don't drag me through a store showing me what you like, and if I point out something different from your pretty little plan, pick at my honest opinions. no, I didn't marry a doormat, but you can't shove me into a house I didn't like in the first place, tell me I can do whatever I want with it, and then disagree and make comments like I'm 12, not 20. then get pissed when I finally tell you what you're doing and how much it's upsetting me.

I hate the idea of working on this house. I want to crawl into bed and stay there.

he is domineering at times (like when I don't agree with him) and every time I reason with why I know what I know, I get sneered at. Like taking Anatomy and Physiology in high school out of a pre-med book with the psychotic Mrs. Hampton: 'oh, you just took a couple of classes in high school'. this coming from a guy who thought edema was the freezing of lung tissue. now I could be true to my mother and tell you that shooting sand dunes in the asshole of the world for a couple of months doesn't qualify you for a role as infinitely knowing and wise, but I'm better than that, I love you and keep my mouth shut and walk away (run away, as you like to tell me) when you've pissed me off to no end.

you used to hero-worship me for knowing so much and being so capable and willing. and I obviously don't shine so crazily for you. thanks for reminding me.

on a lighter note, went to a baby shower today for a niece-in-law. I won two contests and defended my idea to wait for vaccination. it was okay. too much vagina for my taste, however. at least they didn't have teeth.

for people who don't like cats

2008-10-02T15:01:00.001-04:00

they really do think you can't see them under that pile of pine needles. even though their tails are sticking straight through the air, wiggling in glee.

when Travis's cat is feeling sick, the only thing that will comfort her is a piece of clothing that we've worn. it has to smell like us. I knew she liked me, officially, when she accepted my worn Walgreens polo and slept on it for three days. Starla personally enjoys Trav's work shorts. the kittens, if refused of the bed, will sleep on the floor, even if there isn't used clothing or a sunbeam to enjoy. as soon as my grey tomkitten (affectionately nicknamed 'the Shithouse Bandit' for whacking cats in the middle of taking a poop') thinks he sees my eyes flutter, he trills in delight and nuzzles me until I'm up. all three kittens insist on joining me in the bathroom. don't try closing the door. you will be in for a fight. they all greet the neighbors. they join in chores, and insist on 'helping'. this usually involves a lot of discussion and supervision and generally getting in the way, but making the experience all the more enjoyable because of the talkative company.

cats have over a hundred ways of telling you they're hungry or unhappy. some will come when you call, and some will come when you cry. they can be taught to play hide and seek and fetch and 'guitar kitty', where you pretend the cat belly is a guitar and strum to a song. a personal favorite is 'Ziggy Stardust' on chubby kitten belly. makes a great twang. they like to hide away favorite toys and will find and ask you to fetch a toy that they can't reach. not all cats kill. one cat several years ago found an infant squirrel in our yard late one evening. he picked it up as a mother cat would a kitten, brought it inside and lay it in front of my mother. the squirrel survived.

some people have abused cats. both my tomkitten and Ms. Kitty were hit in the face hard enough to make their noses bleed while we were at the apartments. tomkitten almost did not make it. I have had cats who were shot, burned, beaten, poisoned, starved, and mauled. a cat is smart enough to understand that people will hurt it and yet be unable to do anything. cats remember people who have hurt them. they will wince and cower and attack if faced with a past owner, or even someone who looks like them.

at the same time, they remember the good. one cat I took care of at two weeks remembered me enough to grab my hand, pull it to her mouth, and commence to lick me, biting if I tried to take it away, purring and talking. they will lecture you if you're gone longer than expected. they will wait for you - my mother has an American bobtail that, if she thinks Mom's been gone too long at work, will walk to the foot of our driveway and wait for her. she is now accustomed to riding on an armrest in the car.

there are pictures of Maine Coones sleeping with me as an infant, of me carrying kittens in my brother's Tonka Truck, piles of cats sleeping together on my bed, and more. the cats and beagles would stay with me when I was outside. I'd have a pride waiting for me when I came home from school.

I'm excited that I have a group of talkative, intelligent cats to entertain my child. I hope that they won't die until he's old enough to understand it. and he mourns their loss and hopes, like my mother taught me to believe so long ago, that they reincarnate into cats again, and if you're lucky you get the same cat twice. and they'll remember you.

will you still need me

2008-10-02T12:23:00.000-04:00

moved, finally. didn't get internet access until approximately 40 minutes ago, and the expense of internet access was their cutting our cable to basic unnecessarily. I hate contracters. I also hate the fact that I have two loads of laundry to do and a sink full of dishes, but no water because they're yanking the lines todayfor future replacement.

other news includes driving my new husband insane by having no libido and the tendency to yell over everything. also, the urge to watch scary shows on Sci-Fi when seriously, I am a paranoid, ghost-believing freak. on hormones. but, if you watched Ghost Hunters last night, the Seven Sisters Inn was about two blocks north of my apartment on Wenona Avenue. I used to walk by it several times a week, pacing, waiting for Kyle to come home from work.

on that note, Kyle left me a year ago last Saturday. and it upset me a great deal throughout the day, to which Travis responded with by being an asshole who felt 'insulted' that I still thought about someone who was in my life for seven years.

yesterday I went for my first pre-natal visit to the doctor, where they explained that Travis's insurance doesn't cover everything and can we please have $150 dollars right now? to which I responded with 'let me get my husband'. this is frustrating, considering how much money he's invested in United Healthcare to avoid having to pay $500 deductibles and how badly that logic has failed us. I had my cervix scraped, and we heard the child's heartbeat. Travis thinks it's a boy. everyone suggests twins. Christina, a co-worker, suggests punching my stomach.

right now I hate who I am, who disdains at the idea of sex and has a hard time working with customers who think that it's okay to treat me rudely. I am married and pregnant. I'm not 'miss', I'm not your personal shopper, I am not going to break copyright laws for you. I am also not getting along with my co-workers, whose vaginas suddenly have teeth because I have a man who bought me a house and married me. who think it's okay that I don't get to eat until they've had three breaks. to which I explained by telling my store manager that pregnant women don't need lunch breaks, because we absorb nutrients through the air.

I miss you all. come see me before I get really fat.

argh

2008-09-18T10:47:00.001-04:00

bad day. going to work wearing pants that aren't comfortable anymore because I've gained ten pounds. wish my husband believed in depression as a disease, not something you avoid by 'staying busy'. wish I was on drugs. wish my job wasn't so boring. wish they'd stop the rumors about cutting hours. wish I'd just get the keys to our goddamn house already. wish my cat wouldn't poop in the tub.

hard time

2008-09-15T13:16:00.000-04:00

I wish Travis knew that I loved him. this has been a source of angst for him for the last few weeks (months?), and last night he finally mentioned it as I was dozing off in his arms that I don't need him like he needs me when it's clearly the opposite: I need him more than I'm ever going to admit, because the last people who evoked such strong emotion in my left me heart broken for so long, I wanted to kill myself and end the pain of knowing that I wasn't integral to their lives like they were to mine.

long rambling sentences clearly point to my sincerity.

I was not raised in a terribly affectionate family. my mother did not kiss or hug, and after my bouts of insanity and rage I stopped letting anyone not a good friend or lover touch me. long after the manifestations ended, the timidness about people touching me remained. I still don't hug some of the favorite people in my life. it still bothers, surprises, and embarrasses me.

lately I've been shitty, crying and getting mad and getting up at all hours of the night and feeling nauseous over everything, including being snuggled against and smelling his body. the hormones and my ocd tendencies have coincided. I started checking the stove and the locks again. I started doubting the alarm clock's ability to work. I've started questioning everything I do, repeating myself, stuttering (and getting laughed at for it, which made me angry and hurt that someone would laugh at my obvious anxiety-triggered symptom, and I wanted to kill Lori, I really did) and just feeling like I fail at everything I do, including laundry and being a cat person.

did I mention my fish died?

in the midst of all this he questions my ability to love him, which is the most heartbreaking thing ever. because all I can do to show my love is wear this ring and be miserably pregnant right now, because everything else is a turmoil of emotion. I wish he knew about the fear and the jubilation that I have the best man I have ever known, and I am willing to be his and claim him for my greedy-assed self. that he's my world and I wait for him to come home every day, that I cook for him because I love making him food he'll eat, that I can't stand not being a better person, because he deserves more than this crazy wife. I can't help but think I'm over my head, loving someone better than I ever loved before.

all I wish

2008-09-14T22:31:00.000-04:00

still having a hard time getting a camera.

my morning sickness makes me forego perfume. I've been drinking a lot of milk. I have a penchant for sleeping well past morning, to my embarrassment.

I wish I wouldn't beat myself up so badly for being pregnant. it's not a bad thing. in spite of all the negativity at work ('they're being catty', my father told me over the phone the night I was almost attacked by a dog and Travis yelled at me for being ready to kill it, in spite of being female and/or pregnant). in spite of how bad I feel. in spite of the fact that I haven't really talked to anybody lately.

I think what bothers me so badly is that I don't have anyone I'm close to to share in this pregnancy. Travis's family is... his. my family isn't being forthright in enlightening information; my mother still isn't picking up the phone. I'll go see my sister tomorrow to help her with the shop/watching my niece while her husband goes to Wisconsin on a business meeting.

Travis has been good to me. we walk a lot and he deals with the fact that I'm angry, I'm scared, and I'm easily provoked. I can't wait until we're comfortable, when finances aren't as scary and I can give up this shitty job to stay at home while working at Starbucks (better money through tips) and doing the college thing. because lately that's been on my mind. because I will be a failure in my mind if I do not get an education. if I do not push myself to the limit. if I am not the best at something.

at just what, however? fuck, I don't know. you tell me.

I haven't spoken to my favorite mathematics teacher since I saw him with Chuck. I miss him. I hope he hasn't forgotten me, I just can't get the guts or the printer paper to tell him that I'm knocked up and married and living precariously in spite of this being such a good situation.

having problems with photoshop (recently reformatted this hard drive) working properly; not that it matters because I don't have a (working) camera. guilt tripping my sister into buying me one won't work, either. I can't show off my hardened belly. I can't display my .22 gun show (will somebody call a vet? because these pythons are sick). I can't show you my tattoo. I can't show you that I'm okay, in skin and hair that is suddenly getting me compliments. I can't show you the man I enjoy spending time with, the kittens who curl up with me, the sky I look at with such hope and wonder and god I hope this gets better, because I feel so lost.

won't get fooled again

2008-09-08T13:02:00.000-04:00

this time last year, Kyle and I were driving across town, laughing at Billy Corgan's pronunciation of 'heart' (think 'harrrt' with a twang) in 'Rotten Apples'. we read a lot. we avoided each other. he stopped loving me long before summer went away. and I stopped caring about myself, letting myself hide razor blades in Farenheit 451 and skipping work to bleed from my wrist in an ancient bathroom. I went batshit crazy. and all I can think of is 'please don't let it happen again, please let this get better, stop freaking out so bad'. because instead of having a shitty apartment mate, I have a husband. I have an unborn child. I have to do better than this.

my grey monster of a kitten has dragged a katydid inside to disembowel. I had a seven foot tall manager (whom Travis almost called a butt pirate the other day) who is scared shitless of these green, leafy bugs.

Travis and I make each other laugh a lot. I torture him with demands. he went to Publix twice yesterday and Walgreens once just so I could have tomato sauce for spaghetti. and I forget that this gentle guy, who had two cats curled up in his lap last night while watching Comedy Central, is alpha, definitely a scary Tarzan. I forget that until we're in a crowd. and we don't have problems with being jostled, because he is that menacing. when he gets angry, he is frightening. he has one of the strongest, most pervasive auras I've seen.

And he was an artist. he had skills at shading and color variation with watercolor that just makes me smile when I look at his art. what I wouldn't give to see him make those again.

I remember the first time we hung out, for ten minutes outside a Dunkin'. we shared a bagel and he told he broke up with his longtime girlfriend. I always liked him, the cute delivery boy (I didn't know his age until the night he asked me to hang out) with a crooked nose and such a solemn face when he was working. I never saw him a lot, especially after I stopped receiving vendors. two weeks after that fateful meeting (thank you, Teddy, for giving me free food) we were inseparable. and in this chaos of feeling shitty and dealing with a cramped apartment and the stress of getting a house, I forget that. I forget the beauty of a man I plan on making a life with. I have to tell myself that I can still be a badass, I can still be inspired, I can still be myself, and yet have an extension. I wish he was here so I could say these deep things stuck in my head after a day of walking to and from the store, of reading old All and Sundry blog posts, but I know I'll just be suave and grumpy like usual. because that's what twenty year old 'psycho preggo wifeys' do.

the worst you can do

2008-09-07T21:54:00.001-04:00

is with the weakness I admit to.

I'm moving to Blogger, because it appears my livejournal has gone the way of advertising. it seems several of the blogs I read are hosted by Blogger. there might be more user hits, especially if I am inspired to make the most of this.

the problems right now:

-being pregnant sucks. the hormones are out of control, and I am alternating between excitement and the unwillingness to continue. part of me wants to settle down. the rest wants to walk away and find myself.

-my job is being a hassle, particularly my coworkers. hi. my name is Annie. I work for a major pharmacy retail in Florida. I have two pentecostal co-workers, neither of which have spoken to me without a hint of disgust or shame since my announcement (not to mention that the two times I wrote my announcement on the office board, it was erased because people thought it was a shitty joke or that I was being snide) . and that pisses me off, that I can't live my life (however chaotically) without other people making comments that are out of their jurisdiction. my brother-in-law said 'you know, there are ways to prevent that'. you think I would have told you if this was entirely unwanted? do you think that didn't cross my mind? and who are you to say anything?

my problem with abortion is that, if I were to have the procedure done, I would feel selfish and guilty. over the years, I had an distilled concoction of 'abortion is murder' shoved down my throat. which is frustrating, because now I am nauseous, wishing I had an out, wishing I could get out of this job, this seemingly endless situation, but I'm going to stick with it, upset and questioning everything I do.

About Travis: he's ecstatic when I'm not crying my eyes out. and he loves the idea of children. he is a good person to settle down with; he has endless ambition, and he is smart enough to get anything he wants accomplished. we're married. we should be closing in on a house by the 19th. and before I had an idea that I was pregnant, we already discussed marriage and settling down, albeit early.

I was also thinking about leaving.

I wish there was a pill I could take and I would wake up tomorrow, as the good wife who doesn't call in sick because she woke up through out the night after sobbing for a long, frustrating two hours and was too wore out to try to battle retail. the wife that was happy with this. that didn't want to give up. that cleaned more.

my mother still hasn't spoken to me directly. I was just informed through Dad to take royal jelly and ginger. neither of which are producing particularly good results.

tell me I'm okay. that you still like me. I need the reassurance. and I miss cigarettes.