I Love You People

Yep. I do. I love you all. I love my family, I love my blog, I love EVERYTHING.....

and I have been into the Smirnoff.

Tomorrow is a full moon, Halloween was yesterday, and all is right with the world. Well, except my kids having a horrible allergic reaction to the makeup that they wore last night (and Kira wore the night before, too, so her face is all swollen up like the Stay-Puf marshmallow man). Neither one of them wants to go to school looking the way they do. I don't blame them. Especially Kira. She is *bad.* I hope it goes away. :(

My Seasonal Affective Disorder is going to get a really great boost now that we've set the clocks back and sunset is somewhere in the neighborhood of 4:30 in the afternoon (and earlier every day). Awesomeness. Like I need that crap. But my Wellbutrin is on its last renewal, so when I call the office to have them renew it, I'm going to ask if they can double-dose it. Or at least, in my vodkaconfidence, I am going to. Likely, I'll just meekly accept the current dose and continue to feel like crap until December when they might realize that I SHOULD have increased the damn dosage in October.

Tomorrow there is NOT a new episode of House. I freakin' love that show. I do not want to watch baseball. I do not want to watch Dancing With The Stars (get your own freakin' time slot, losers). I want HOUSE. grrrrrr.

When I went out to my car to find my camera to upload the pictures from last night (which I'm not posting yet because I need to edit them and honestly, am not in the best frame of mind to write a well-written post about how awesome the evening was), I had the most amazing idea. Can't remember it now, but it was amazing. Trust me.

Facebook is sucking me in with all of these applications. Now I am a farmer (on TWO different farms), and I am stranded on a desert island. That has a store on it. And where I can island-hop. Honestly, if I can hop from island to island, am I really still stranded? And why would I go back to my island when Michelle and Wendy have MUCH better islands than I do?

I want chocolate, I don't have any in the house, and it is irritating me. I am making do with a "Low Fat" Quaker Chewy oatmeal raisin bar. 90 calories. That's because it's two freakin' bites, people.

I have a new therapist. His name is John and he specializes in DBT, which is a treatment for people with borderline personality disorder. Which apparently my most recent therapist JUST realized I really struggle with. After TWO FUCKING YEARS. She was all, "I think you might be dealing with BPD." I'm like: "Yeahhhhhhh????" (like, this is not news, lady) Yes, I have great faith in the mental health community. Anyway, John seems really good so far, especially since he makes me really nervous and he won't let me side-step questions. He thinks within the next year I will have mastered several skills that will greatly help. Within a year! That's amazing considering how long I have been in therapy, to think that I will have measurable results in such a short time.

My buzz seems to be leveling out. Where's my vodka?

There are 54 days left until Christmas. One of my Facebook friends has a countdown on her profile page. eek! I can't think of what to get for Mark. He's no help. He wants an iPod touch (stand in line, buddy) or a "real" cellphone (right now he has a TracFone and he doesn't want to spend the money on additional minutes....and he thinks I do?). And he can't think of anything else. Great. Christmas Day, he'll open new socks and gift cards for TracFone minutes.

I just put something in my mouth without being entirely certain what it was. I *thought* it was a crumb from my oatmeal raisin bar that somehow dropped on my desk, but I didn't know for sure. Fortunately, that's what it turned out to me. wow. just, wow.

I want to throw a party. At the same time, this idea scares the living hell out of me. What if no one comes? What if they all come and they're bored out of their minds and they never want to have anything to do with me ever again? How do you throw a party, anyway? I know all these people I want to invite, but most of them have spouses or significant others, and, um, I don't? In fact, do I even HAVE any single friends anymore? Wow. Well, Peter, and Kimmie, but they both live in the Boston area. That's not helpful.

My vacuum cleaner has been in my living room for weeks. I have not vacuumed. It's just hanging out there.

Did I mention I love you all?

What do *I* want for Christmas? Kira was asking me awhile ago, and I was having a hard time coming up with things to tell her. Partly because a lot of what I want isn't exactly exciting ("hey, darling, can you give me some new ceiling panels for the dining room? That would be lovely"). Okay, mostly because what I want isn't exciting. Or affordable for a nine-year-old.

Oh fuck. She's got a birthday coming up. What day is it???? It's on a Wednesday. Dang, I need to think of a party. And a present.

Her closet is a friggin hell-hole. She never actually puts her clothes away when I ask her. She just throws them in there, or hides them. Great. And I hear a lot of "all you have to do is" put them away for her and get her all fixed up to start fresh. Yeah. If it was that easy. I'm good if I friggin' SHOWER every day.

I've been trying a new thing of dressing up nicely. I try not to wear jeans. Except on days when I'm going to be doing heavy work that would beat hell out of nice clothes. It's kind of nice. I missed looking good most days. Except I keep getting comments like "Why are you all dressed up?" which just tells me how far I have fallen. Cripe.

I did not wear a costume to the Halloween Carnival. I wore nice black pants and a purple top with silver rings at the neckline and flats. People asked why I didn't dress up and I would either indicate my outfit and say "I did dress up" or "I'm a psychopath. They look like everyone else."

How long is this entry, anyway? Oh well. I'm not done yet.

Just got a text from my very dear friend Shelly. She said "I hate sundays." I said "I'm buzzed. I love sundays. I love you. I love everything." Am waiting for reply.

I need to get laid. I'm sorry, Mom-and-Dad-who-occasionally-read-my-blog, but it's true. It has been entirely too long. Or not long enough. Or, oh shit, someone stop me from blathering penis jokes. Really. Oh my fucking god. Oh wait, that's blasphemy. (and I had to type that 9 times before I spelled it right). hahahhahahahhahahah Oh fuck. good vodka.

Two drinks. I am such a cheap drunk. Or very liberal with the vodka. Your choice.

I wonder how comfortable it would be if I continued to sit here cross-legged in my office chair, with the slide-out keyboard tray out, with my head down on the desk. I bet I could fall asleep. I bet I would NOT be happy when I woke up.

I miss my friend Peter. He was up a couple of weeks ago, made me dinner, the next day we went to Fort Knox....I want him to come back up soon. C' mon Peter.....

Just realized I do, in fact, have chocolate. Had s'mores makings in a bag that has been floating around the kitchen, to camp, back to the kitchen, for quite a while. Snagged a partially eaten Hershey bar from earlier this week. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

chocolate

Read this fabulous article in Cosmopolitan (boy those women are sluts...why do I want a subscription so badly then?) about how women are dying from drinking, because they are drinking too much too fast and then going to sleep and never waking up. Awesome. Apparently women who drink very rarely are more susceptible to this than regular drinkers, and it's most particularly dangerous to those who drink to the point of throwing up. So I am apparently not at risk here. I'm just rather buzzed, and will sleep well. But the article definitely made an impression.

(and wow, when I googled cosmopolitan to link to that article, the 3rd result was a recipe FOR a Cosmopolitan. Don't drink it!)

oh well. couldn't find a link. Trust me, drink slowly and if you're too wasted, do NOT be alone.

I have "How Much Is That Doggie In The Window" in my head. Wow.

K people. I think I have inflicted enough on you for awhile. Gonna sign off, continue texting with Shelly (dang those little buttons are getting slippery) and check in with you later. xoxox mk

Halloween Carnival 2009

I have pictures! From the Halloween Carnival, which Kira did NOT win a prize at (she was robbed, I tell you! ROBBED!) Several people agreed that she was definitely "scarier" than the girl in her age category who won scariest, but since I really don't care, I had such an incredible rush just looking at the results of nearly two hours of makeup time.....here we go!

In case you can't figure it out (and if you can't, what kind of Halloween person are you? Seriously....) Kira went as a dead prom queen. What's the saying? The best prom queen is a dead prom queen....

Doesn't she look pretty?

Yeah, I would NOT want to be telling her she didn't win....

She even had "scar" tattoos going up her wrists and on her upper arm...she loved them. I didn't tell her what the wrist tattoos meant.

Aren't my children gorgeous? Kira's even got the model poses down.... :)Mark took about 30 seconds to plan out his costume for the evening....and then when he got there, he took off the mask and someone painted his face like a basketball. :)

We had a really good time at the Carnival, of course. The kids went through the haunted house (Mark gloated that it wasn't as scary as his class did last year...which he would have claimed even if they had Hannibal Lecter in there giving cooking lessons), several of Mark's friends also came (and he went to a dance afterwards in the next town over), Kira ran around with her friends happily shrieking. It was great. Very good lead-in to THE BIG DAY. mk

Halloween Musing

Anybody ever think about how what a perfect time Halloween is to go on a mass-murdering spree? Everyone's acting a bit weird, nobody gets suspicious when they see someone covered in blood or carrying a large sharp object....

Hey! Come to the Halloween Carnival tonight! I'll be there! Bwahahahahaaaaa.... mk

SAD vs Scary

Everyone knows that Halloween is my favorite holiday. I LOVE all the spooky, scary stuff, and the costumes and decorations and haunted houses and events and everything. It is awesome. AWESOME.

Most of you also know that I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Every year at about the end of September I start really showing it. I get very tired, prone to major depressive episodes, and just generally lacking in energy and drive. I can't get enough sleep, I have a constant craving for carbs, whether I'm actually hungry or not. It's not pleasant.

So the two things battle each other each year. In an ideal (for me) world, I would do up the decorations at my house at the beginning of October, do the jack-o-lantern carving with the kids, maybe throw a party or two. And of course, there would be The Big Night, which would just be joyous and exciting.

Instead, what usually happens is that I keep intending to get out all the decorations, plan to get them set up, but maybe the week before I might actually do something (this year the big activity was slapping some new window clings of bloody hands on the sliding glass door. (that link isn't to a picture of mine....but I have the same kind, and she's got a better view out the window.) I do the costume thing, yes. This year Kira will be a dead prom queen. I'll do the trick-or-treating, but I'm tired the whole time, and I'm just going through the motions.

My psychiatric nurse had been talking to me about increasing my Wellbutrin to combat the Seasonal Affective. We even scheduled a meeting for September to look at doing it then, getting ahead of it. And what ended up happening was that she decided that I seemed to be doing okay right then and we'd get together again in December and take a look. Of course, we met on September 18th. My SAD doesn't get going until Octoberish. Of COURSE I was still doing okay. We were supposed to be trying to get AHEAD OF IT.

Naturally I didn't advocate for myself and insist on doing it, or even meeting sooner than December, when I'll be in full grip. And sure enough, last week I had a blaster of a depressive episode, one of the worst I've had recently. Can't help but wonder if I had doubled up on my Wellbutrin, if I could have avoided that hell.

You'd think the doctors would figure out that my depression is pretty powerful. I'm on THREE DIFFERENT ANTIDEPRESSANTS, plus an antianxiety that's take-as-needed. Hello? There's a problem.

Anyway. Halloween is Saturday. Carnival is Friday. Kira's costume is not completed, and all I had to do for it this year is get her a prom dress from Goodwill (did that, but it needs to be taken in to fit) and make a sash. Then blood that stuff up.

We're doing the Haunted Pirate Ship again this year. I'm pretty excited about that, but at the same time I'm pushing off getting my ass up to the third floor and bringing down the boxes. The thought is just so exhausting. But I'll get it done, and I'll have an EXCELLENT time Halloween night being scary.

Just don't expect much until then. mk

There's Like, Protein & Stuff, Right?

Every year around this time, we get a major bug infestation. They're hibernating, and my light-colored, older house is perfect for their needs. We don't rush for the Raid or anything, in fact, every time I see a dozen or so crawling across the ceiling, or landing on a lamp, or sometimes even me, I smile.

We get ladybugs.

The kids and I love ladybugs. They're the one bug that doesn't freak any of us out. (Kira, especially, spazzes about pretty much anything else...fly, moth, heaven forbid a stinging something) We let the ladybugs do whatever they want, and occasionally Kira will decide to make one a pet. Today after the kids got home, we ran to Goodwill to look for pirate shirts, and I found a little ladybug step-stone, and of course, in light of our current guests, I bought it. 99 cents well spent.

So tonight, I'm making dinner (American chop suey), and get the water all boiling. Go to add the macaroni, and suddenly there's this dark little thing floating in the water. Quick as I can, I scoop it up with the ladle, get it over to the sink to drain off the water, and sure enough, it's a ladybug. I boiled a ladybug. I felt horrible. (immediately thought: must! blog! I boiled a ladybug! I boiled a ladybug! That was very nearly the title.)

Now, as I continued to make dinner, several minutes later it occured to me that I was cooking macaroni in water that had contained a dead bug. Which can't be particulary hygenic. Somehow in my mind I justified it with vague thoughts of the ten-second rule (and really, it was way less than that before I got that sucker scooped out), along with the sanitary aspects of boiling water (kills germs, right?). Then we also had the what-the-kids-don't-know-won't-hurt-them idea, and don't some people eat bugs as a regular part of their diet? And, like, protein & stuff, right? Plus, all the time it would take to start that part over, and the waste of the macaroni, etc etc. That battled it right out with the portion of my brain that had only one response: ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Of course, I am typing this having just finished my second helping. So guess which part won.

I have not told the kids any of this. My prediction would be: Mark wouldn't really care. And Kira would be totally grossed out, and probably refuse to eat any more (and naturally, because this is what I do when there is pasta involved, I made a ginormous amount of this stuff. we will be eating it for days).

And yet. Being me, I am very very tempted to find out if my predictions are correct. Very. tempted. mk

An Email I Sent Recently (really)

(And yes, to the guy.)

Ways To Let a Girl Know You've Started Seeing Someone, in order of courtesy:

1) in person
2) by phone
3) email
4) text
5) ignoring her and letting her discover it for herself a week later by seeing a picture on Facebook of you kissing another girl