I'm not in the obituaries this week!
Someone told me they could make it possible for the next weekend. I didn't find it funny. Mostly because I don't like him.
My diet, frankly "stinks" - despite the fact that I eat mostly fruits, vegetables, and whole grains. I don't know why it's so worrisome, could it actually kill me? I guess, in theory, I guess it could. Anything could, in theory. Ultimately there is only one single cause of death when it comes down to it (anoxia?!?)
I get a lot of complaints about my diet from TW, and tonight he finally said "I guess we've never agreed on that, have we?" No. But it's nice that he cares.
What I want to know is - what are you saving me for? If you're worried about me dropping dead- why? Is there a special occasion that I need to be shelved for? Like a special bottle of Champagne? Those biscuits you only serve when grandma comes? The china we only use on Christmas?
I guess I'm just never going to get it. He sure hasn't. Well, I'm sure he has. He's just hoping it will go away on it's own. You know, like nausea.
Oh, and the Clonazapam sure as heck isn't working. I guess one more night of up all night.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Any Given Sunday
One of the greatest quaterbacks of all time. It goes without saying he was always my first pick in fantasy football. I followed him right until the end of his career with the Tennessee Titans.
Rest in peace, Steve McNair.
Friday, July 3, 2009
I hate drunk
By the time I got home from the gym this afternoon, TH and his friend, who I am afraid may drop dead of a heart attack at any moment, had already finished off 3/4 of a bottle of scotch, and probably 20 of the 24 cans of beer (if you can call Coors Light beer). This is after they had already been in the pool for hours so were likely already dehydrated. TF decided to go off about Michael Jackson, the govenor of SC, and religion. He is a libetarian, the first two topics I mentioned he said unless they are costing him money, he doesn't care what they do. Fine. Fair enough. He questioned my sanity for caring for the people of South Carolina. "Have you ever been to South Carolina?" He asked me, which was more shouting than asking. Yes, I have. I used to live there. In that same small town that put South Carolina on the map because some stupid, white trash woman put the car in gear and sent careening down the embankment into the lake. With her three children inside. Oh - and the initial story? Some black man carjacked her. Very nice.
Anyway, back to TF - we ate, and I went to the pool with them, but drove separately (it's only down a big hill and a few blocks from there in the entrance of our subdivision. I had to go feed Elizabeth's cat, Thom (spelled that way on purpose, as a tribute to the lead singer of Radio Head. I will never get that, but, OK.) By the by, devil kitty hissed at me the minute I walked in the door. In fact, I almost went right back out. I have this irrational, but in some surreal word it could come true that one day I'll go to feed him and he'll murder me in the house, and no one would find me until she and Robert got home. I always see it as a stabbing of sorts - lots of blood. I was going to go upstairs and look at the bathroom she had redone, and use the bathroom as well, but decided this could wait until I got home.
Oh, yes, back to TF, whom I know has a wife who is extremely religious, and he isn't. I asked him if he was athiest and he bellowed that he is an agnostic, athiests are just stupid, because agnostics say they don't know if there is a G-d, but athiests claim to know for a fact that. "They KNOW" he emphasized three or four times. I got it the first time, as I'm sure my neighbors down to the edge of our road did as well. He was too close to me and I had to take a step back, wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, then after telling me a story that I was not at all interested in, ranting and raving and doing this all at a very loud decible, I told TH that he had to drive TF's car, because he didn't have any hard liquor, and, frankly, TF was teetering on his feet.
Mmm Hmm.
And so I met them at the pool, swam laps for an hour or so, and got out and left to feed Thom. Last I saw they were playing "Monkey in the middle" with some kids, and they both had two beers in cozies sitting within arms reach, beside of the pool. Not only are we not supposed to horseplay in that pool - even the deep end is quite shallow, but they specifically ask that no alcohol be brought into the pool area. TH was slurring his words, and the mother of the two young boys (one whom a happened to share the same name of TH), and kept trying to get me to go over there and talk to the mom, who just took a job at UNC in Peds. She seemed to want to keep talking. I didn't. I had to feed the cat and I wanted some sanity at home before old trumpet mouth came back in ranting.
When they finally got here, they finished off all but 2 of a 24 pack of beer, TF finished off the rest of his glass of scotch. Straight scotch (which, by the way, I am looking at right now. The amber color shading just a tiny portion of the bottom, knowing that it is now warm, makes me sick to my stomach to look at.
And, if that was not enough, TH decided to show me the fruity Arbor Mist wine he purchased for me (because I'm such a big drinker), and then he pulled out a bottle of blackberry merlot. First of all, that's just wrong. And second of all- we needed more alcohol? So he finished a glass - the same glass I guess he uses all the time, because there is one glass in my cabinet that always seems to be put back, just after drinking. Just after drinking, as in not being washed first. Always one dirty, red wine-stained glass in my cabinet. I doubt it's rinsed between uses, which makes me shudder to think about. TEAMING with pathogens. Jesus.
Oh - and he's coming back Sunday. Super. I told Patrick that he and his wife could come, I really do like his wife, and we could go the pool and grill out, but that I could not handle him drunk like that again. I can't. He scared me with all the shouting and flailing about - to the point where I moved closer to TH who realized I was nervous, and I actually let him put his arm around my shoulder. (If you've been keeping up, there is a one way don't touch me policy in place. As long as he doesn't touch me, his fingers don't get broken.)
And I spent most of the time while they were still at the pool picking up empty beer cans; which reminds me of an episode of the Golden Girls when Dorothy said "That reminds me of my honeymoon" and Blanche said "Well, a full night of unbridled passion should take it out of you." Dorthy's response? It wasn't a night of unbridled passion, I was tired from picking up all the beer cans from Stan's poker game.
Yup. I'm stuck in a morbid (well, they are all a bit morbid) Dr. Seuss story. B grade. To the point where every other character is a one dimensional, cardboard cutout.
Well, I think the pup and I are going to hit the sack. So tired. Maybe more tomorrow. (I didn't write anything else about TW because our coversation was uneventful and he was annoyed with me).
Yes. Even so, I still love him. But I also know that it's just that I'm here and I'll do for company. Well, at least it's something.
Anyway, back to TF - we ate, and I went to the pool with them, but drove separately (it's only down a big hill and a few blocks from there in the entrance of our subdivision. I had to go feed Elizabeth's cat, Thom (spelled that way on purpose, as a tribute to the lead singer of Radio Head. I will never get that, but, OK.) By the by, devil kitty hissed at me the minute I walked in the door. In fact, I almost went right back out. I have this irrational, but in some surreal word it could come true that one day I'll go to feed him and he'll murder me in the house, and no one would find me until she and Robert got home. I always see it as a stabbing of sorts - lots of blood. I was going to go upstairs and look at the bathroom she had redone, and use the bathroom as well, but decided this could wait until I got home.
Oh, yes, back to TF, whom I know has a wife who is extremely religious, and he isn't. I asked him if he was athiest and he bellowed that he is an agnostic, athiests are just stupid, because agnostics say they don't know if there is a G-d, but athiests claim to know for a fact that. "They KNOW" he emphasized three or four times. I got it the first time, as I'm sure my neighbors down to the edge of our road did as well. He was too close to me and I had to take a step back, wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, then after telling me a story that I was not at all interested in, ranting and raving and doing this all at a very loud decible, I told TH that he had to drive TF's car, because he didn't have any hard liquor, and, frankly, TF was teetering on his feet.
Mmm Hmm.
And so I met them at the pool, swam laps for an hour or so, and got out and left to feed Thom. Last I saw they were playing "Monkey in the middle" with some kids, and they both had two beers in cozies sitting within arms reach, beside of the pool. Not only are we not supposed to horseplay in that pool - even the deep end is quite shallow, but they specifically ask that no alcohol be brought into the pool area. TH was slurring his words, and the mother of the two young boys (one whom a happened to share the same name of TH), and kept trying to get me to go over there and talk to the mom, who just took a job at UNC in Peds. She seemed to want to keep talking. I didn't. I had to feed the cat and I wanted some sanity at home before old trumpet mouth came back in ranting.
When they finally got here, they finished off all but 2 of a 24 pack of beer, TF finished off the rest of his glass of scotch. Straight scotch (which, by the way, I am looking at right now. The amber color shading just a tiny portion of the bottom, knowing that it is now warm, makes me sick to my stomach to look at.
And, if that was not enough, TH decided to show me the fruity Arbor Mist wine he purchased for me (because I'm such a big drinker), and then he pulled out a bottle of blackberry merlot. First of all, that's just wrong. And second of all- we needed more alcohol? So he finished a glass - the same glass I guess he uses all the time, because there is one glass in my cabinet that always seems to be put back, just after drinking. Just after drinking, as in not being washed first. Always one dirty, red wine-stained glass in my cabinet. I doubt it's rinsed between uses, which makes me shudder to think about. TEAMING with pathogens. Jesus.
Oh - and he's coming back Sunday. Super. I told Patrick that he and his wife could come, I really do like his wife, and we could go the pool and grill out, but that I could not handle him drunk like that again. I can't. He scared me with all the shouting and flailing about - to the point where I moved closer to TH who realized I was nervous, and I actually let him put his arm around my shoulder. (If you've been keeping up, there is a one way don't touch me policy in place. As long as he doesn't touch me, his fingers don't get broken.)
And I spent most of the time while they were still at the pool picking up empty beer cans; which reminds me of an episode of the Golden Girls when Dorothy said "That reminds me of my honeymoon" and Blanche said "Well, a full night of unbridled passion should take it out of you." Dorthy's response? It wasn't a night of unbridled passion, I was tired from picking up all the beer cans from Stan's poker game.
Yup. I'm stuck in a morbid (well, they are all a bit morbid) Dr. Seuss story. B grade. To the point where every other character is a one dimensional, cardboard cutout.
Well, I think the pup and I are going to hit the sack. So tired. Maybe more tomorrow. (I didn't write anything else about TW because our coversation was uneventful and he was annoyed with me).
Yes. Even so, I still love him. But I also know that it's just that I'm here and I'll do for company. Well, at least it's something.
Losing steam
My attempts to ease his frazzled, agitated, and down mood have all failed. He is hurting, he is in serious pain, his doctors, quite frankly, perform their services like they were trained in a clown school or a barnyard, and there isn't anything I can do.
I just have to let it go, and it hit me like a 2x4 to the back of the head this morning when I asked him if there was anything I could do to make him smile, even for just a minute, he replied "Smiling isn't always needed."
Honestly, I don't even know why he talks to me at all.
Well, today, I'm going to the gym for a few hours, then meeting a friend to swim. I haven't spoken to anyone that knows about the situation with me and TW in a long time, not because I'm angry with them, which I know they think I am... But I'm not. Especially not at Lisa, whom I love dearly, and like a sister. The problem is me. I can't face them.
Maybe the day out and about will help. I feel good that I made not only numerous, but substantial contributions to my discussion group for Epi, and the water always calms me. If all goes well, it will be a nice day.
I just have to let it go, and it hit me like a 2x4 to the back of the head this morning when I asked him if there was anything I could do to make him smile, even for just a minute, he replied "Smiling isn't always needed."
Honestly, I don't even know why he talks to me at all.
Well, today, I'm going to the gym for a few hours, then meeting a friend to swim. I haven't spoken to anyone that knows about the situation with me and TW in a long time, not because I'm angry with them, which I know they think I am... But I'm not. Especially not at Lisa, whom I love dearly, and like a sister. The problem is me. I can't face them.
Maybe the day out and about will help. I feel good that I made not only numerous, but substantial contributions to my discussion group for Epi, and the water always calms me. If all goes well, it will be a nice day.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
You know what makes me really sad?
When I look up at the television and see someones name and then 19xx-2009.
"Did you get a virus?"
"No."
"Did you get 400,000 viruses?"
"Yes." "Very Yes."
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail118.html
"Did you get 400,000 viruses?"
"Yes." "Very Yes."
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail118.html
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
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