My Ink

This is my second post of the day. You'll have to deal with that unfortunately...

Ok, save for the pic of my ass, these will be the only photos of myself that you will ever see. I'm a fairly private person, which is odd when you consider my blog is public.

I got this tattoo for my 20th birthday. I wanted something to mark the occasion of leaving my teens, and I searched for 9 months before I figured out the design I wanted to use. I drew it myself. It's a rendition of my late father doing the Native American Sundance and being pulled up to heaven by the Great Spirit. I figured after I got it that the best thing to do would be to tell my mother right away. This was a bad idea, as she wigged out to the point where she actually called Monsignor about it. His response: "Is she doing drugs? Is she stealing? Then give her a break, Barbara."

Here it is: 

I'm sorry it's sort of blurry.  

My second tattoo I got when I was 27 years old, to mark the fact that I was a Perfect Cube (seriously, do the math). It took me 3 months to design that one, and I also drew that one myself. I'll let you know that the blob on the 9 o'clock position is a turtle, and the blob on the 12 o'clock position is a rendition of the Goddess symbol. I placed the Goddess at the top for my own purposes, but the tattoo itself means many paths, one truth. This is why the Ohm is in the center, as its sound is supposedly the sound of the ultimate truth being realized.

I never told my mother about this one, and she found out about it when I was stupid enough one day to parade in front of her in a bathing suit. This time, however, she merely called me a brat and asked me why I had gotten a second one. She disagreed with my reasoning, but she accepted the fact that I had a second one. NO calls to the Monsignor this time.

Tattoos aren't for everyone, obviously, and Rich doesn't want me to get anymore, although he accepts the ones I have now because I came that way. He isn't fond of them at all, and doesn't understand why people get them in the first place. I want to get a third one to mark the occasion of my 40th birthday, so I guess I'll be saving up to pay for it on my own. I won't ask him to contribute to the cause.

The one for my 40th birthday? That will be olive branches with olives on them, as my daughter's full name is Olivia, and both her name and the branches mean Peace. And if tattoos can perform some sort of magic, then maybe I'll find peace myself.

Explanation

If you'd like an explanation of why my computer was linking to a dating site go Here.

It's utterly crazy. Sorry, I forgot to give you all the low down. Suffice it to say things are once again harmonious at Chez Julie.

Sit Coms Ain't Funny

So I have a conundrum. Some of you might have seen a post I made last night that I unceremoniously deleted because I don't need folks in Dubai all up in my bidness. Well the post was rather angry, and I've calmed down since then, so I'm going to give you the basic gist of what went down at Chez Julie yesterday.

I had come in from having a cigarette and Rich asked me why I was enrolled in an online dating service. Yeah. Me. I told him I was not and he said that our computer logs said that I had been logging into one several times a day for several days. I reiterated that I did not belong to one. We both got very confused for awhile, because he had proof in black and white that I had been logging on, and I knew that I hadn't been.

So thanks to a brilliant idea from Nina, I showed him my cache history for the entire day ON my computer. No visits to online dating service. He felt better, I felt better, and things are in general getting better. However...

I need to know what the fuck is going on. It's virtually impossible for someone to sponge off of our wireless router because we have an incredibly secure block on it. The only thing we can think of is that I visited a page with an ad for said dating service on it and the ad was faulty and it's logging me in now. Because that's the thing, I AM logging in. My computer is, without my assistance, logging into this service with a username and password. Kinda weird huh?

Very weird. And spooky. And it also makes for a very violated feeling Julie. I remember ages ago someone had snagged my debit card info from online and used it to subscribe to an internet porn website. My ex got our bank statement and called the odd company listed and found out what it was. Asked me if for some reason I was looking at internet porn. I was stunned. The company in question was kind enough to refund the money that had been spent, and everything was A-Ok. Again, feelings of violation.

I'm sure that there has to be a simple explanation for all of this, but what it is escapes both myself and Rich. If you have any idea of how this could have happened, please shoot me a comment, because I am never going to feel alright about this until I know.

Have a Happy Friday everyone.

Ouch Part 2

Yesterday we put a rug down that Rich bought. It's an absolutely lovely rug, and he has very good taste. Good job Rich. Anyway, in order to do so we had to move the recliner to the other side of the room, and that required moving it twice. To do that I had to squat and lift with my legs. Do you see where this is going? If not, let me tell you that my thighs hurt so badly today I might as well have bicycled 10 miles. So ow. I'm going to have to stretch today.

Not much happening here except my mania is subsiding. This is a good thing, although I'm worried that I'm going to swing too hard the other way. I simply don't trust my meds yet. My anxiety seems to have lessened though, as I went to the grocery store yesterday with only the slightest tinge of a feeling that something awful would happen on the short ride. Yeah, I figured out that's what's going on. I've been absolutely terrified that while driving some asshat would run a stoplight or somesuch and completely destroy our lives forever. If I leave Livvie home with Rich to run errands I have no anxiety at all. When I put her in the Jeep, however, well I'm just a nervous wreck. And that's ridiculous.

I can't stand feeling this way. And I don't just mean the anxiety. I hate having to be on meds for the rest of my life, and I REALLY hate knowing that if I don't take them I could ruin everything I have. Rich and I had some very bad times before I saw the doctor last April. Yes, it's been almost a year since I took my ass to the headologist to fix everything. Not everything was fixed, obviously, as the chemistry experiment (as Nina calls it) had to be tweaked constantly until we found what worked. During the tweaking I was swinging this way and that, and often exploding with rage for absolutely stupid reasons. I'm still experiencing rage when for instance my dog Emma won't pee when I take her out. Rich shakes his head at that, and he thinks I'm silly for getting so mad, and frankly I am. How useless is it to get angry over such a little thing? SO angry that if I weren't on meds I'd be tempted to tear the dog's head off. Rich can tell when my meds aren't working to their full potential, and he watches me like a hawk. I actually appreciate this about him, because he's honest enough to tell me when shit ain't working and I need to get a grip.

So I'm going to trust him right now to watch me and tell me if I'm starting to get depressed. And if my posts start to get too maudlin I'm going to trust all of you too, because I know you're honest as well. I hope that doesn't happen. I hope the chemistry experiment is finished.

Yippee Ki Yay

and you know the rest...




Tomorrow Rich and I are taking even more of the tax money and attempting to find a rug and a chair. The rug is for the living room. To pull the whole room together. The chair is for the office, because he's currently sitting on a kitchen chair in there and it's killing his back.

Money. Spending money. Ah man, it's a good thing he's doing the spending right now because being somewhat manic right now I could seriously outspend him in a heartbeat.

I want a new Macbook Air. Yes I do. If I had had my druthers the entire federal refund would have been spent on one. I shit you not, I saw that thing in the commercial come sliding out of the interoffice envelope and I just about wet my pants. Rich calls it Julie Porn. He's probably right. I could go into an Apple store and drop literally $5k without even blinking an eye.

I got my "allowance" on Friday and it's sitting in my bank account. What will it be used for you ask? Well...

Dog food
Cat food
Heartworm Preventative
Frontline Flea & Tick Preventative (I saw a seed tick today. In February. Whatever.)
Car Insurance
Smokes

I might end up having to bump the car insurance back 2 weeks, as I'm not sure how much the Frontline will cost. Exciting times, huh folks? None of this spending is enough to satisfy my mania. I'm three heartbeats away from going on eBay and buying Season One of Buffy. Yes, yes I am. Why is Season One worth it? Well because of exposition. You need Season One to enjoy the rest, even though the makeup and clothes are pretty bad. Trust me on this. Oh, and if you've never seen Buffy, do so post haste. I guarantee you'll be hooked.

Dog Shit and Favorite Mugs

Yes. Dog shit. This morning Rich and I woke up at the same time. One would think that was a good thing because it meant Rich wouldn't be THAT late for work. And in a normal household, that would be correct. But you see, as I'm sure I have mentioned before, I NEED to get up first so that I can check the kitchen for dog shit. And this morning, as Rich was putting on his robe, I FLEW out of the room and into the kitchen to find... dog shit. Thanks Emma. So while Rich was getting Livvie out of bed I sped over to the stash of plastic grocery bags and grabbed up the dog shit and threw it in the garbage in approximately 3.5 seconds. This prevented Rich from discovering the transgression and killing the culprit involved. However, I have not been speaking to said culprit all day. Hey, why should I?

As for the second transgression this morning... well, Rich used one of my two favorite mugs. I have a kitty cat mug and a Maryland crab mug. The kitty cat mug was in the dishwasher. Rich came out of the kitchen with MY mug in his hands. I froze. I said, "HEY. That's my mug!" He said, "It's A mug." I then had to go into the cabinet and find a mug that I could tolerate. It ended up being an X-Files mug that had once been my favorite but has been cast aside since the acquisition of kitty cat and crabs. My coffee then tasted meh.

I am pathetic.

(For those wondering, the order of mugs goes like this:

Kitty Cat
Crabs
Bats
X-Files
X-Files 2
Taurus
Chessie Systems
Halloween Cat
Animaniacs

All others are free and clear for Rich to use.)