Yo-Yo

Still vacilating (no spell check, sorry!) between self-loathing and trying to be OK w/ myself and my body. You'd think after 34 years I could accept myself but sadly no. Too self-contained to maintain friendships w/ people, esp women. I'm lonely.

I was trying on dresses for an upcoming wedding. Nothing fit. I've been trying so hard, I work out 4 - 5 mornings a week, I watch what I eat. And to no avail. I wish I could be like those "size acceptance" people. Ya know, "I'm chunky and proud! I'm large and lovely!"

All these negative thoughts are seeping into my relationship w/ SexyBeast. He is of the belief that I am not fat and got very angry w/ me. Tells me my thoughts are destructive. I have to explain to him yr either thin or yr not. I am not.

The bartender called me pretty last night. I can't believe I'm reduced to feeling validated by someone who works for tips.

Sisters in Sweat

I went to a cheesy Catholic school from Pre-K to 8th grade. We had no playground, instead I "enjoyed" playing in a parking lot. In the 4th grade, I played a vigorous game of kickball and and got some serious road rash on my upper back thigh (the underneath part of my butt) and the recess monitor did nothing! My grandma picked little stones out of my flesh. Thank sucked quite a bit as you can imagine. Combined w/ the fact that St. Paul's only had one girls' sports team, basketball. Currently, I'm 5'1", back then I was miniscule. Basketball out. It didn't matter, I was more of a book worm anyway.

I went to a public high school and quickly realized the cliques between the different sportos. Plus, my 9th grade phys. ed. teacher was a burnt out crusty old bitch. Seriously, that old cow was 90! No point in parading about my inadequacies.

When I got to college, chicks talked about going to the gym and working out all the time. Did real people actually do that? It seemed like only characters in inane early 90's TV shows exercised.

As I've gotten older and my metabolism, has slowed down to the pace of a cadaver. I power walk to keep my cellulite under control. And I hate it! I physical exercise, it's not fun and I get no pleasure out of it. 

Lately, I've been thinking about starting up an intra-mural kickball team in the Capital District. Kickball is the highlight of my sports career in middle school. Let's bring it back!

Absolute Truth

Warning: This is a completely stream of consciousness piece of writing.

My depression has kicked in with the force of a jack boot against  gypsy's skull. Doubts and paranoia swirling in my mind, making me feel inadequate and worthless. Why should anyone care about me? My boyfriend can see right through me, he's going to leave me.

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Shouldn't I have a thicker skin? Nobody wants to listen to me whine about my pathetic doubts and fears.

The absolute truth is I'm feeling overwhelmed. I'm taking the civil service exam in a few weeks and I'm going spare. I want to do well, I need a better job as Sexybeast and I are trying to buy a house. I'm in complete job finding mode right now.

The other issue is I don't know who I am anymore. I've wanted to be a writer since I'm 10. And yet I haven't done anything to further this goal. I have these ambitions live life to the hilt and being my best self. And yet, I'm hopeless. I'm not athletic like my work wife. I'm not able to paint or sculpt or make music or create anything on a grand scale. Am I not living up to my potential or do I have delusions of grandeur?

I'm swimming with sharks.

Queen of Bad Ideas

I got ridiculously drunk last night. I was mean to SexyBeast. I'm full of self-hate. I hate my body, my mind, everything. Everything is wrong. 

To Whom it May Concern

Hi, my name is Sue. I live in Schenectady, NY. I live part time between my boyfriend's apartment and my parents' house until my boyfriend and I buy a house. I'm 33, I'll be 34 in October. I work in case management for a non-profit w/ people who are living w/ HIV. OK, think that covers who I really am.

So here's the deal, last fall I started getting some really shitty comments from Anonymous. I addressed this by being direct and adult about it.

Well, Anon has resurfaced and told me this gem re: my Top Model recap "Seriously? You have no taste." Not really sure what yr referring to, fucko? Are you saying I have no taste because I watch America's Next Top Model? I can probably conclude that yr one of those snide assholes that think reality TV is for the great unwashed masses. Or could you possibly be talking about my rant about Clay Aiken? Clay Aiken is a no talent jerk off. There I said it. Still pissed off?

What really chaps my ass, is that yr a total pussy. Gutless piece of shit, too scared to let me know who you really are.

FUCK OFF DOUCHEBAG!!!! YR NOT WELCOME HERE!!! GO SUCK A DICK! 

I Have a Bike....

This week has been marred by unpleasantness for me. The only saving grace is I have Thursday and Friday off of work because of the Easter holiday. The perks of working for a Catholic organization.

Monday was a confusing mess that ended w/ me losing my transmission in Hudson, NY while I was trying to find a client's home. Nowhere near where I live. Added to that I just replaced the tranny about 4 years ago. Words of advice my friends, don't ever buy a Kia.

Calmly, I called Geico road side assistance to get a tow back to Schenectady. "Oh but you haven't signed up for it previously. So yr going to have to pay for the tow out of yr own pocket." Then I call my parents to call the garage to let them know I'm a-coming. Oh wait, my mechanic doesn't do trannies. OK alternate garage near our house. Nope they don't work on Kias. Racist! Finally, find a place to take the damn car to, right in the ghetto. Nice.

I call the office, explain the situation. Micro-manager offers me a ride to work the next day. No. No. No. I'll just rent a car. Call the client to break our date. Then I call SexyBeast and that's when the tears start. I don't have money for a rental. I don't have money to fix my car. I don't have money to get a "new" car. He really is the best, he let me cry like a baby for 5 minutes.

2 grand later, I'm getting my crappy Kia fixed. Part of me wishes I could just start over. But I'm stuck between a rock and hard place.

Been bumming rides off of people. I hate it. I'm totally dependent on the people in my life. It fucking sucks. I had plans, things I needed to do. Everything fell to shit.

Next year, new job, new car, new house.

If Only.....

Hmmm, it seems to have happened without me realizing it but Tuesdays have become my unofficial rant day. I kinda feel like the wet blanket since so many of my blogger friends have been writing about positive change and not being dragged into the abyss of negativity. However, I will write this as a disclaimer for the following post, it's just a teeny rant.

As I have mentioned several times, SexyBeast and I just celebrated our one year dating anniversary. I love talking about him 'cause he is simply the best man I've ever known. But I digress. We snuggled on the couch to watch Blindness, a movie I didn't get a chance to see in the movie theatre last year. The premise sounded intriguing, an entire city succumbing to a blindness plague and it starred Julianne Moore. I love her!!! She's a stunning older woman and she make freckles sexy. Thanks, Julianne!

WRONG-OLA!!!! This movie was terrible. The characters were flat and one dimensional. The pacing was waaaaaayyyyy off, I swear I aged another 5 years watching this fucker. Plus they had Julianne paired up with Mark Ruffalo, whom I normally don't mind watching. They had zero chemistry and all of their scenes together seemed unnatural. None of the characters in the movie had any 1st names and upon viewing the credits Julianne's character was "Doctor's wife." Why? So pretentious. All the imagery seemed really heavy handed. The whole thing just fell flat. Afterwards, I remarked to SexyBeast that I wanted to read the novel the movie was based on, "Why do you like torturing yrself?"

So as not to be a complete Negative Nelly, here are the good points: the sets were pretty damn amazing, like a cross between an Ikea catalogue and a state asylum of the 1950's. Also, the nudity was interesting, I viewed naked bodies of various ages and shapes. It was quite refreshing. Plus, Julianne Moore has tiny saggy boobs and she's not afraid to show 'em off. Good for you!

Please, do not see this movie.

Mirror, Mirror

As I mentioned in a previous post, SexyBeast and I got into a fight over my poor self image.

Hmmmmmm..... I guess I'll start at the beginning. I was never a skinny kid, not fat but average. My mother has been every diet in the history of man. When I was 12, I was universally hated by every kid in my class. I ate 'cause I was lonely and was picked on constantly. Uh oh. I was a chubbo until I was 17. Even though I was smoking pot, I wasn't heavy. Then I played the yo yo game of gaining and losing. After I graduated from college it all went down hill. I only left my apartment to go to work and buy food. I was fat and disgusting. I cried alot. I moved to NH and went on Weight Watchers and I got thinner. I was happy but insecure and needy. I got treated like crap from many many men. I got fat again but I couldn't face it. I moved back to NY, I got thinner. I met SexyBeast and I've been struggling to stay thin.

He loves me. He thinks I'm the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. He constantly reassuring me I look great. I'm angry, can't he tell my I have a major muffin top or sometimes my double chin comes out to play? I'm constantly critical of every single photo taken of myself. Is that really what I look like? I hate the way my eyes squinch up when I smile. I hate my broad man shoulders.

I work out 3 times a week. I eat a well balanced meals. But then again I drink alot of alcohol. I don't care about portion sizes when SexyBeast cooks for me.

I don't have anything to add. I feel wasted.

The Good, the Bad and the Snowy

Last month SexyBeast and I watched Fargo. SexyBeast had never seen it! And I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that film. Frances McDormand was definitely deserving of the Best Actress Oscar that year. And what I picked up this time was use of the negative space. The frigid Minnesotan winter, the expanse of the countryside. Desolate somber back drop to a hilarious and incredibly violent movie. The scene where Peter Stormere ruthlessly murders 3 people on the cold lonely road was hauntingly beautiful. When I see a really great movie, I never want it to end. Then I think of a million great scenarios for "sequel".

Conversely, the next evening we watched X-Files: I Want to Believe. Loved the title, loved the trailer. This was garbage and I'm really glad I never spent the money to see it at the theatre. There was nothing eerie, thought provoking or shocking about any of it. I don't know, there was a lot missing. The story felt half assed and worst of all David Duchovny shaved off his skanky sexy beard 1/4 way through the movie. Much as the snow and cold were characters in Fargo, as was in X-Files. Except like everything else in this piece of shit, this character was badly drawn and under developed.

SexyBeast now has many other Cohen brothers movies on his queue.

Blue Christmas

As previously mentioned, I have not been feeling like myself at all lately. Hindered, stuck, overly emotional. I decided the best way to work through my bluckiness is to write about it.

Day one, I'm getting ready for work and I realize I really don't want to go. I work in case management in the HIV community and it's very demanding, esp. this time of year.

Day two, one of my clients really got under my skin. I'm hypersensitive anyway. I have to learn to become like a duck and let it roll off my back. But I like myself, do I have to change?

Day three, became agitated w/ SexyBeast. Communication breakdown and misunderstanding. I never explained to him how I get in the winter. My fault, I don't deserve such a wonderful man.

Day four, sleeping longer and longer. I feel at peace when I'm unconscious. Or most likely, hiding from what's troubling me. But I feel safe and pacified when I'm lying next to SexyBeast.

Day five, Christmas party at the office. Comfort foods and desserts. Great, now I'm depressed and fat. I hate my body, I feel like I've been abusing it.

Day six (today) sniping at SexyBeast and crying uncontrollably. I recognize that this thing in me is growing at a rapid rate.

Know this post is confessional but I need to let out the ugly. And from pain comes inspiration. Perhaps another story is on the horizon.

Burley Queue

The northeast has just survived a record breaking ice storm. Thankfully I've been w/ SexyBeast and mostly have power for 2 days. Now we have full power. Thank God! Unfortunately, my parents and kitty cat are still in the dark. And oddly enough, it's beautiful out there. Everything looks like it's made out of diamonds. And there's a lovely silence surrounding my world.

In the midst of the insane weather conditions, Bettie Page passed away this week. For those of you not in the know, Bettie was style icon and one of the most famous pin-ups ever. I adore Bettie Page and incredibly saddened by her death.

I became obsessed with pin-ups a few years ago after I saw an E! True Hollywood Story about Miss Bettie. (shameful I know)

Anyhoo, I have spent a lot of time, collecting books and lunchboxes and lots o' other fun stuff with pin-ups on it. And I really started to analyze why.

Beauty. Beauty is power. Beauty is mutable. Bettie Page was far from thin but that never stopped hoards of men from lusting over her.

My dream is to lose 15 lbs. and join a burlesque show. Someday......

OWIE!

This week is going to be all over the place. Yesterday, I had my gall bladder surgery. Let me tell you all about it!

I get up, kiss SexyBeast, take a shower and then quietly panic. Get to the hospital for 9:30 am pre-admission testing. I register, give them my $75 co-pay (which is total fucking bullshit!) and wait for 2.5 seconds. Then the nurse's aid weighs me (150lbs. I call shenanigans!) gets my BP (102/70 lowish normal) and get a urine pregnancy test. She was going to draw blood and was bitching at me about being dehydrated until I explained through gritted teeth that I was fasting for my surgery..... TODAY.

Then I met w/ the sweetest nurse ever, Ellen. And she asked me a barrage of medical questions.

Then I was led to same day surgery and got completely nakee, the first time I've ever done that in front of SexyBeast and we didn't get freaky deaky. I put on the stupid backless gown and even more ridiculous hat thingy.

Then I had a lot of time on my hands , so I re-read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone for the eleventhy bajillion time. Then I couldn't concentrate so I watch Tony Bourdain in African Bush and Samantha Brown in New Orleans.

Then I got my IV placed and that pretty much sucked.

I met w/ the anesthesiologist and he had no personality what so ever.

Then I cried when the nurses took me to the OR. They gave me happy juice and I don't remember a damn thing.

I woke up in the recovery room in horrible pain and really pukey. The painkillers didn't do shit and I was hooked up to a blood pressure monitor my entire 2 hour stay in recovery. Oh yeah, I guess the painkillers did work 'cause I slept my entire time away in recovery.

Then back to same day, I was awake, alert and SCREAMING my head off. Awful gas pain underneath my rib cage. Don't think gross thoughts, they pumped me full of carbon dioxide so the doctor could see my gall bladder. I was also freezing cold and couldn't catch my breath.

I peed and watched The Simpsons (the one where Lisa becomes a cigarette smoking ballerina) and then SexyBeast and my mother picked me up and brought me home.

Don't how much I will be posting for the rest of the week. I want to thank all my friends and fellow bloggers for all their thoughts and well wishes

50 Kinds of Suckiness!

Sunday morning I awoke to a tummy ache. I thought perhaps my 6 year old niece may have given me her flu bug. So SexyBeast plied me with flat ginger ale and Triscuits. But wait something is wrong! Every sip and bite was excruciating. Wave after wave of abdominal pain. Only relief coming from the many cat naps I took all day.

I roused myself to watch The Simpsons (God I loves me some Simpsons!) but by the time Family Guy rolled around, the agony was unbearable. I tried to lay down on the freshly made queen sized mattress to no avail.

SexyBeast said, "Do you want to go to the ER?" To which I replied, "Better now than 2 am when I can't sleep."

Check in at 9:30, labs drawn, examination and one abdominal ultrasound later, I have gall stones. And since I don't show any signs of an infection, I have to be referred to a general surgeon to book my gall bladder removal at a later date.

Gall stones flare up from fatty foods. Therefore no fat in my diet until that sucker is out of my body. I'm eating healthier than ever and all I want to do is stuff my face with bacon onion pizza.

Off to my GP on Friday for a referral to a general surgeon. I'm praying they yank out my gall bladder before Thanksgiving. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to load up on Percocet just eat a slice of pie.