The Twelve Days of Smoking

On the first day of smoking my true love gave to me... mild COPD...



Ok, maybe not, but you gotta admit that it's not good for you. Hell, it might be one of THE worst things for you ever. I have 12 days left in which to smoke, before I hopefully quit for good. This might not go well, as the only time in the past I was able to quit was when I was 22 years old and had bronchitis so bad it bordered on pneumonia. Problem is... I'm not ready to quit yet. I've tried many things, books, gum, the patch, but nothing makes me WANT to quit. I'm sure you've heard smokers refer to cigarettes as their "friends." Well, in some ways it's true.

I had quit for 6 years back then, and each and every day I wanted another cigarette. I told my mother at one point that if I was ever diagnosed with a terminal disease the first thing I would do would be to go out and buy a carton. Once a smoker, always a smoker? Hell yes. I remember going out to bars and sitting beside smokers so I could secondhand off of them like crazy. I'd stand downwind from smokers outside at work. And every once in awhile I would bum a drag off of someone. Just one, which was like the tease of getting a dozen clams instead of oh say, 50.

I started smoking again as a way to self medicate against the increasing symptoms of BiPolar Disorder. I was 28. One would think that at 28 years old a person would be smart enough not to restart a deadly habit. Not so. Things were Very Bad at that time in my life, and I needed the help of an old friend. The first pack almost killed me, but I pushed through it, buying a second pack, and then a third, until I was once again a practicing smoker.

I even smoked while I was pregnant. Yep, I did. I smoked 3-5 cigarettes a day, never in the car, never at work, only at home. You'd think that I'd be able to quit smoking to protect a child growing inside me, wouldn't you? I had always thought so too. But then, I also couldn't give up one cup of coffee each morning either. Oh, and I also ate lunch meat. But these are tales for reasons I should go to mommy hell, and not about the topic at hand. So...

I have to quit. It's no longer about me. I might not have protected her from carbon monoxide in the womb, but it's my duty to make sure she has a mother. Smoking killed my father at the age of 47. I was 11 years old. I'm sure you're wondering how I could have even picked up a cigarette in the first place after experiencing that. I wonder too. 25 years ago this past January he died, and my life was never as it should have been.

Reasons to quit:

Livvie
Cost
Health

So, I bought a carton yesterday, and will probably when this one runs out as well. I plan to enjoy each and every cigarette until the 29th. Smoking mindfully if you will. I'll treasure each nicotine receptor in my head opening up to let that lovely chemical in, and I'll relish the filling of my lungs with smoke. I'll make sure each smoke is a ritual, the snap of the lighter, the inhale, the tapping of the ash. And then on the 29th I'll say goodbye to a friend who has helped me for years, even though it was a backstabbing sonofabitch. And hopefully I can say goodbye for good.

Sorry to be a Bummer

But...Too many of my friends are having shit lives. Hell, I'm having something of a shit life, but comparatively speaking I can't complain.

I know TWO people on the verge of bankruptcy right now. Two. How does this happen to people who work hard and pay their bills and try to make a living? I can understand people who run up a ton of debt with no compunctions at all. What I can't understand is how people get to the point of having to live on credit just to survive. It's unfair that something called The Working Poor even exists. Obviously.

I know 3 people who hate their jobs so badly that they're contemplating throwing away their current lives and starting over. Perhaps even by moving away from their current homes. One is considering France. Another is considering Bumfuck USA. I'm not certain where the third wants to go, because I haven't asked. I do know that if these people moved so far away I would be heartbroken as it would mean I would probably never see them again, but that's my problem, not theirs.

Three of these people are having the worst luck that you can possibly imagine. Constant outflow of cash with none coming in, deaths, you name it, they're dealing with it. And I don't understand how all of this is happening in the space of a few months. Some of it has been going on for years. I had thought 2008 would be better, but for many of my friends it is not.

For a lot of these things problems could be solved if I could simply manage to win a $350 million dollar lottery. Everyone I know would be set for life. A lot of these problems can't be managed with money, and those are the ones that make me feel helpless.

So if I start complaining about my meds, or lack thereof, If I start wanking about something stupid like my husband buying furniture in the middle of the night, or the fact that my child only took a 50 min nap, feel free to slap me senseless. Because in the grand scheme, that ain't nothing.

Well...

Here goes part of our tax refund. Instead of paying a few bills off Rich bought this online last night:



How does one buy a sofa online without determining whether or not it is comfortable you ask? Well apparently you just ask your wife if she likes it, she says yes, and then after she goes to bed you whip out your debit card and place the order. It's going to be here on Thursday. He says it can come in through the kitchen. I doubt that highly. So at some point on Thursday I have to hope and pray that the delivery men don't show up during Livvie's nap and wake her up banging around the kitchen doorway.

His argument as to the level of comfort? He says that it has to be more comfortable than our current futon. He's probably correct. I still wish we had been able to test it out though.

In other news, my meds certainly didn't help yesterday as Livvie only slept for 30 minutes in the morning and then not at all in the afternoon. To avoid potentially screaming at her I left her in her crib for TWO hours while I ignored the crying and squealing. Two hours. In that time I did nothing except lie down with a pillow over my ears, give up on that, talk to my friend Jennifer on IM, and go outside and smoke. I was at the end of my rope. I ended up putting her down at 6pm and going to bed myself at 730 because I just wanted the day to fucking end.

Oh, also, I haven't gotten on the scale in a week or two. Did you know that substituting cigarettes for food can cause you to lose 9 pounds without really meaning to try? I just found that out. Hey, maybe I can end up svelte again. Oh wait, there's the whole quitting and all...

PS...

What I should be doing today:



What I AM doing today:



And drinking beer and smoking. Nothing like blowing off a whole day.

Oops

Ok, so being off meds for 2 days did in fact do something. This morning when I was changing Livvie's diaper she wouldn't stop moving her legs. Annoying, right? Not to me. In the front of my head, just above my right eyebrow, I felt a tingle of rage. The kind of rage where if she hadn't been half naked with the potential to pee on the sofa I would have walked away to get away from it. Otherwise, well, you know... I had to do what I always have to do: pretend someone else is in the situation and I'm just standing by watching.

In retrospect the mania must have been building for quite awhile. I'm assuming the skipped dosages just bumped me over. There can be no other rational reason for smoking a pack to a pack and a half of cigarettes a day when prior I had been smoking 10-15. There can also be no other reason for the copious writing output of the past several days, and yes, Xris, that means I am in fact cheating. Unfair advantage and all that. I also applied full makeup yesterday and polished my nails compulsively. There was no logical reason for this as I wasn't going anywhere at all. I can handle those things. The smoking isn't great, but it only hurts me. The impending rages however, well, that's another story isn't it?

There is a drug called Zyprexa. It's an anti-psychotic primarily used for emergency situations. I'm not sure I've reached the klaxon levels of Code Red yet, so I'll hold off on calling my doctor. I also can't afford it, as once again the copay is $40 and I have no money until tomorrow.

So I'm at a loss for how to get through the rest of the day. I took my meds. Good deal. I guess I'll continue to self-medicate with nicotine until the drugs finally start doing their job again. I also have Lithium on stand-by in my cabinet, which I had stopped taking because I couldn't handle the tremors anymore. Maybe it's time to really take a step back and determine what's more important. Avoiding shaking hands or avoiding harming my child for some stupid small reason. In fact, maybe I'll take one.

I'd really like to avoid the point of breaking things again.

I am sad

It's Valentine's Day and I am sad. Not because I don't have a Valentine, after all, I would assume Rich is a de facto Valentine being the Official Man Unit and all. And I'm not sad because we agreed on No Gifts this year (my idea, and if he shows up with a gift and a card I will be uber pissed). I am sad because back in the day my Valentine's Days were spent getting rowdy with a bunch of gals in a bar, drinking, smoking, and listening to Patsy Cline on the juke box. This tradition began in 1992, when I was 21 and legal, and ended in 1995 when I moved down here to NC.

This started of course when none of us had boyfriends, and it continued even with boyfriends. They were not invited of course. It was wonderful to sit in a smoky bar with pitchers of draft beer and hot wings or pizza, pumping dollar bills into the box to hear "Crazy" or "Walking after Midnight," which of course guaranteed that no man would approach us. Sometimes we threw k.d. Lang into the mix, which was a SUREFIRE way to avoid the male animal. We drank and laughed and had such fun that we needed to walk home. Luckily the bar (The Manor Bar, to be exact) didn't seem to mind cars being left in the parking lot overnight. And it was absolutely lovely to have a bar within walking distance of home.

I'm not reminiscing because I'm married and have a kid. I have missed these days since Valentine's Day of 1996 when I was down here with the Ex and he bought me a garlic press as a gift. Granted, I had mentioned I wanted one, and it WAS red, but something lacked that year. Is it called Sisterhood these days?

I miss girlfriends. I have one in my area these days, but our lives are utterly different now and she is busy and of course so am I. There's something about a pack of women descending upon a pile of fun that just can't be substituted by any Instant messaging, any chat room, and any message board. I know many women these days that I would give ANYTHING to get rowdy with, but they're many miles away. If I won the lottery I'd fly each and every one of them to Oaklyn, NJ, and we'd hit The Manor Bar for lousy pizza and good beer. We'd take up the entire booth in front of the projection TV, and we'd have a stack of dollar bills to shove into that juke box. We'd leer at men and then snub them if they even attempted to make contact. And we'd have a ball.

Maybe my mom could even drive us home. Or maybe we could talk her into joining the pack.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

$113

That's how much it will cost me today to refill all of my meds. I've been off my meds for 2 days because we were dirt broke. Nothing terrible has happened though, which is good. I'm assuming there's a half life there that helps out for a few days.

Of course, I did realize yesterday that I was self medicating with an entire bottle of wine plus a beer. Wine is funny for me. It gets me drunk. Why is that funny? Because I can drink 4-5 bourbon and cokes PLUS 3 beers and not feel a thing. By my second glass of wine I'm ready to dance on a table while people throw french fries at me.

Our state refund was deposited last night which is the only reason I can even afford my meds. Otherwise I was going to have to wait until Friday, by which time something terrible could have absolutely happened. And by terrible I mean things like spending money in my account that I don't have and going overdraft, which would then earn me penalties of $35 per transaction. My mother once deposited $300 in my account and when she got the deposit slip back it said that I had $46 in my account. She was PISSED. And yes, twice a month I receive an allowance from my mother. She does this so that I can have my "inheritance" while she's alive to see it making a difference. Whatever her reasons, it's the only way we could survive some months.

I need to see my shrink sometime in the next month because I completely skipped my December appointment with her. She was kind enough to speak to me on the phone at no charge, and what struck me about that is that the call lasted approximately 4 minutes. I usually have a 15 minute "medication management" appointment with her every 3 months, and those cost me $68. I had expected to be charged for the phone call, but she took pity on me and made sure I had refills called in and also took my word for it that things were going ok. I think she usually relies on the way I behave in her office to see if I need my meds uppped or downed. I don't want to go to the next appointment since my management apparently requires less than a 5 minute conversation, but I guess I must. I'm not certain that my Lamictal is working to its full extent as I have had panic attacks surrounding leaving the house on a regular basis. I'd like a scrip for Xanax, but generally shrinks won't prescribe it often as it's about as addictive as heroin. Or cigarettes. Which leads me to discuss...

I smoked 26 cigarettes one day last week. Yes, 26. I also think this is related to anxiety and panic, but it needs to stop. So please if you can wish me stop smoking vibes. I've picked February 29th to quit, and this time I'm going cold turkey since the patch seems to not help at all.

That's it for today. I'll catch you all tomorrow.

One more thing...

Today my shopping list for the grocery store is thus:

Chick'N Nuggets
Monistat
Low Dose Asprin

What's the oddest shopping list you ever had?

Can you point your fingers and do the twist?

Can you stand on one foot and shake your hands?

So I've decided that since I'm woefully out of shape I would start exercising. I hate exercising. I LOVE working hard in the garden or in the house, getting a workout in that way, but using a piece of equipment? Bah. During Rich's vacation last month the weather was beautiful and I decided to start. All of our exercise equipment is out on the deck under a gazebo we refer to as "the Gym." So on the first day I got through 2 songs on the elliptical machine. The second day 4. Then the last day (yes, last day) I got through 3. I have shin splints. Goddamn they hurt. My friend Nina says to push through them and they'll get better. I think she's insane. If they made epidurals for exercising maybe...

So that brings me to the Twist. The Wiggles. Yes, this is actually another post about The Wiggles. You see, their music is specifically designed to help children with their gross motor skills. This means that most of their songs have dances that go with them. Very um, wiggly dances. One of the Wiggles is named Anthony, and he's a colossal spaz. For each dance he moves like he's being stuck with a cattle prod. Which brings me to my new exercise regimen. Livvie and I watch the Wiggles. A song comes on with a dance (Can you point your fingers and do the twist?), and I make every attempt I can to move like Anthony. So I do point my fingers and twist. I stand on one foot and shake my hands. I boot scoot. I do the Wiggle Groove. I Rockabye my Bear. And I have a blast. Livvie finds it hilarious, especially if I'm singing along, and I'm hoping one day she'll be moving along with me. Because damn, Anthony. We're talking some serious cardio.

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.)

Meme

Thanks to Nina of the Reader blog:

7 Weird things about me...

1.) I can't stand paper on the floor. It's an anal retentive thing that drives me nuts. My best friend used to throw crumpled up paper on the floor to stop me from ranting about things because she knew I would stop immediately and pick up said paper.

2.) I also can't stand things that are askew. See above.

3.) I pick my nails. Constantly. I am always ripping off hangnails or peeling my nails back when they start to peel on their own.

4.) I gag every morning on anything that hits the back of my throat including the toothbrush, food, and cigarette smoke.

5.) I hate getting food on myself. It's not a minor inconvenience to me, and it isn't about feeling like a slob. It OFFENDS me to get food on myself, and I've been known to change clothes immediately, sometimes taking my 15 min break at work to run home and do so. See number 1.

6.) I used to have 55 rats when I was involved in rodent rescue. It took 3 hours every Saturday to clean their cages.

7.) I'm 5'8" tall and I have extremely small bone structure. I have a 5 1/2 inch wrist (average is 7") and I wear a size 4 1/2 ring on my left hand. It's almost impossible to find rings and bracelets that fit.

New Addiction

So I've become addicted to icanhascheezburger.com.

I've started submitting. Here's my most recent. Enjoy:


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Out with a Bang

Rich walked into the kitchen last night to find me with my arm down our dog Ginny's throat.

I had dropped a hot wing on the floor, and I'm sure everyone knows that dogs cannot eat cooked chicken bones because if they chew them, they'll splinter and can possibly kill the dog.

So I dropped it and Ginny, who is a sneak and faster than Superman, snarfed it up within 1 second. I know this was how long it took because I timed it. I literally in my head did the One Mississippi count, and hadn't even passed "Miss" when it was gone down her throat. I just wasn't fast enough to grab it back up. So I figured I'd do the next best thing, and to her surprise I pushed up my sleeve and shoved my hand and arm down her throat trying to retrieve it before it could cause any damage.

This is when Rich walked in and said, "Are you doing this because she ate it and you're worried, or are you doing this because you weren't done eating it yet?"

So I gave up, pulled my arm back out of her throat, and washed my hand and arm off with Dawn. Dawn gets off everything, even dog saliva.

So this was how 2007 ended for me. I went to bed shortly thereafter. I'd love to hear how everyone else's year ended, so comment away.....

Your Post for the Day

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I broke the Jeep

I was attempting to back into the side portion of the driveway yesterday so I could go to the vets office. I heard a grinding sound and thought i had HIT the end of the boat trailer. I got out of the Jeep and the rear bumper of the jeep was hooked OVER the end of the trailer and the bumper was hanging off.

I attempted to pull forward to unhook myself and couldn't. I drove back and forth several times turning the wheel to the left to get it unhooked and it finally broke free. I got out and somehow reattached the bumper back onto the Jeep, although it isn't perfect. There is also a deep 1/2 inch wide gouge running at least 18 inches down the side of the bumper.

I turned around to look at the boat and I had somehow, with the frigging BUMPER of the Jeep, managed to turn the trailer/boat to a 45 degree angle in the driveway. I also had backed the boat into a heavy plastic planter that sits at the top of the driveway. The motor now wiggles a bit, where it had never before. If that part of the boat is damaged the entire boat is hosed, because we can't afford to replace it.

Rich isn't angry, he is worried about the motor though. He was upset that I had panicked and created all of that damage, but I couldn't help myself. I didn't KNOW that the trailer has a built in jack and that you can lower the front end.

I was so upset I almost barfed.

In order to move the trailer/boat back into position we had to do it manually, i.e. by using our backs and our legs. Rich used a very long post as a fulcrum under the end of the trailer to hoist it and move it sideways, and I had to wedge a shovel under the front wheel of the trailer to keep it from sliding back in the gravel. I threw my back out. Rich's back also naturally hurts. Once we got the trailer more or less in position he then attached the trailer hitch of the jeep to it and proceeded to return the boat to its original position in the driveway.

I am so not looking forward to ever backing out of the driveway again this week. Rich said he is going to return the boat to its place right beside the house, and I hope that happens soon.

Christmas Time is Here

-Vince Guaraldi

Christmas time is here
Happiness and cheer
Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of the year

Snowflakes in the air
Carols everywhere
Olden times and ancient rhymes
Of love and dreams to share

Sleigh bells in the air
Beauty everywhere
Yuletide by the fireside
And joyful memories there

Christmas time is here
We'll be drawing near
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year...

Delay Brew

So the power went out the other night. It went out for about an hour solid and then stuttered off and on for about another hour and a half. It sucked, especially with a baby in the house who is NOT used to her entire world being plunged into darkness.

The thing about the stutters? They were JUST long enough to allow me to feel confident enough to re-set clocks, reboot the cable box etc.

I rebooted the cable box 7 times.

So I finally got the clocks set and they stayed. That was awesome, because we're too lazy to leave the kitchen to see what time it is on said cable box in the living room.

Last night I set up the coffee for delay brew. I love delay brew, because it keeps me from having to pour water from a large thing into a small thing upon first waking up in the morning. I've missed the small thing many times. I got up this morning and the pot was full. I rejoiced! YAY for coffee! Then I noticed the light wasn't on on the coffee maker. WTF? I touched the pot and it was cold as ice. OH NOOOOOOOO.

I pushed the button on the front of the machine that says "set delay." Yeah. The timer was still set on default at midnight.

I dumped it out and made more, seeing dollar signs swirling down the drain.

So now the timer is set for the usual 6:30am. And I'm looking into finding a coffee maker with a battery backup...

Nada Mucho

I'm sorry I've deserted you all. There really hasn't been much going on here except the same old, same old.

I have decided to abort my plan to becaome an alcoholic drug addict stripper, though, because aside from the last full moon my kid has been behaving fairly well.
The last full moon was hell, though. Please cross your fingers for us once (or twice!) a month so that I can keep my sanity for 3 days.

This is going to be an interactive blog. I need suggestions for what to buy DH for Christmas. Since I think our main gift is going to be a new gas grill (the grill part has fallen off our current one), would you get extra sets of long underwear, some new tools, a gift card to Home Depot, or a bunch of little ridiculous things like razor blades and socks... (we're not doing stockings this year).

Thanks in advance for participating! I'm sitting here clueless.

Why Keep Your Head?

So you don't look like an ass, that's why.

This morning I got up at 6:44am in the dark to make coffee. I went into the kitchen and discovered I was short a dog. There should be 2 dogs in this house, but the only dog sleeping on the kitchen floor was Emma, who looked rather pleased to be by herself.

Ginny was nowhere.

I ran back to check the bedroom hallway and she wasn't there. I checked the living room, under and behind furniture, and no dog there either. Went back into the kitchen and looked AGAIN under the kitchen table. Nope. By this time my heart was pounding and I was convinced that Rich had too much beer last night and accidentally let Ginny out of the house, and she ran off. I was THISCLOSE to running into the bedroom and yanking the covers off of Rich and calling him a bastard when I noticed that the door to the office was adjar a smidge.

I pushed the door open and said "Psst." into the dark. A giant knucklehead popped up, looking sheepish. I told her to get her ass out of there and she ran past me into the kitchen, over to where Emma was lying.

Emma isn't pleased anymore.

I'm done

Just so you all know. I plan to become an alcoholic drug addict who needs to strip for her drug money.

Too bad I don't have a babysitter.

Not that anyone would want to watch this kid anyway. They'd ask for twice what I was going to pay them and then bolt out the door like The Flash.

Anyway, I just thought you should all know my new plans. Thanks for reading.

Sigh.