Sunday, July 13, 2008

Still got my signature pre-pubescent sense of humor. Yay!

This is Meds Day Two, if you're playing along at home.

Yesterday (Meds Day One) I was just kinda lethargic and fighting my own hatred. I hate that I need the meds. I hate who I am without them. I hate how pathetic and defeated I feel right now.

And I'd forgotten how much anti-depressants mess with my system. Kinda poetic how I'm trying to feel like my life's NOT in the shitter, and yet, every ten minutes, where am I? Yeah. On the plus side, one thing I will say about depression - I've lost weight.

Still, I managed to get out of the house with R and the Apes. R wanted to get a camelback personal hydration system because he's looking to get into Airsoft, kinda like paintball (which he used to do before we had a baby and got married). I wanted some flip-flops, and I don't go for the $2 Old Navy ones. I want something more substantial. So we went to Cabela's.

Cabela's is full of stuff that sounds dirty, but isn't. Stuff that sounds funny when you say "I got yer (fill in the blank) right here" or "I'll (something) YOUR (something)."

For example:

I got yer Bouyant Cushions right here. See?

I'll Seek YOUR Slab...

I'll Troll YOUR Depths with my Master Rod...

This one doesn't really need a caption.

I suppose if I were a guy and if my pants suddenly went all (ahem) 3-D on me, A) I hope I'd be somewhere secluded, and B) I'd be relieved to know that a random tent pole's not going to rip them. I'm guessing these pants are a godsend for the boy who sits in a deer blind with a Hustler mag.

Speaking of Hustler, can you believe I got cut from the August issue just because I refused to wear the sequined camo bikini? I just thought it was tacky. I have standards, people.

Doesn't the look on my face just say,
"You gotta be FUCKIN KIDDING ME..."?

Historically, I tend to feel better when I give myself a project to focus on instead of my own funk. I pour myself into projects and surround myself with my various relationships so I'm not bored and alone, because that's when Penny Dark wants to come out to play. When I have important stuff to do (like beating Guitar Hero Aerosmith) and people who think I'm cool, I kinda feel a greater sense of purpose and motivation and I feel less extraneous. Extraneous is the feeling I'm trying to overcome.

Yes, I know my personal sense of worth should come from within, and for a while I was working on improving that, but, hey, it just isn't me. Have you noticed I've blogged more in the last two weeks than I did all last month? I feel like you guys are there for me. Thanks.

This week's project has been planning Beeb's birthday party. She's been kinda sad because my Grandma's death coincided with her annual trip to visit my parents and she didn't get to go. This is the same trip she almost didn't get to go on last year because I just about strangled her in the airport after what has since become known as The Liquid Incident. That's a great story. I know she's really disappointed, she had been looking forward to the trip for months. But I'm kinda glad she'll be home, I was going to miss her.

I can't give a lot of detail about her party because it's supposed to be a surprise/mystery destination sort of thing, but it should be cool. We're only inviting four of her friends (three of whom are triplets), so I won't be too overwhelmed, I hope.

My parents will be in town from Saturday to Wednesday. They're not going to be staying with us, so that's less pressure on me. I was thinking about opening up the floor to some questions you might have for my parents, just for fun. Of course, I'll ask them all nonchalantly, not, "Oh, the people that read my blog want to know..." just because I really don't feel like explaining the existence or the content of this blog to them.

I feel like there was something else I was going to write about. OH!!!

R found more Cheap Shmitty at WalMart! So now, quite literally, we have 100 bottles of beer on the wall. Well, really, on the dining room floor and on the buffet. Anti-Stella suggested we decorate with them. I just might.

And for Poops:

Old Purse.

New Purse.

And to answer a question Rip asked, yes, lip gloss flavor matters. My favorite lip gloss is Body Shop Hi-Shine Lip Treatment. It's normally outside of my Emergency Retail Therapy Lip Gloss Budget, but the one I have (Mauve Dream, I think) I got free. It tastes like passionfruit. No complaints yet!


Rip Van Winkle said...

I need to send you a pic of a business I ran into when I was in California recently. It was a combo Chimney Sweep-Tarot Card reader shop. They just go together, like squid and apple pie, huh?

It's a good sign that you have been able to see the quirky humor in life again, even if Cabela's is FULL of crap like that!

Skye said...

Well, I for one am really happy you're blogging more... being one of those sad, no-life type people whose main daily entertainment is reading people's blogs...

Elspeth said...

I love your new bag! Good luck on the meds. I've been on and off them, and I think on is better, but I understand what you're saying about not wanting to feel different or dependent on drugs. But if they help, why not.

Mrs. Higgins said...

Just remember to wear SPF under the gloss unless it has some. Yay for retail therapy!

SiressYorkie said...

Having been on anti-something or others a good chunk of my life, I've come to grips with it this way:

If I have a headache, I don't blame myself for getting it, like I did something stupid to earn it. I take a pill, and it's better. If something's wrong with me, and a pill can make it better, I'll do it.

The only reason it bugs you, I'm willing to bet, is because a mental problem STILL has the stigma of something "you should be able to get over yourself with enough will and hard work". I call shenanigans. Anxiety and depression are chemical misfirings your body does on its own no matter how much self-lecturing you might do.

If your body needed extra calcium (like most women do), would you sit there and go, Nope, I can tough it out, my bones will fix themselves...? NEEEEEOO. You'd take a sodding calcium pill because your body needs it. So your body needs Xanax or whatever it is you take. You don't have to wear a scarlet letter, and you don't have to be a ashamed because you haven't done anything wrong. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT.

Just be glad we live in a time where you CAN take a simple pill to make things better. I think of that each day when I take my own pills, that my life is so much better because of them. I can be the mum that Maxman needs because of modern medicine. Seriously, that's all that matters to me.

Helen said...

While I'm certainly not saying it's the same thing, hubby sometimes struggles with the fact of taking meds for ADD. He questions what he would be like without them, and is it really who he is when he IS on them...and quite frankly, it's not like I always notice if he misses a dose...he gets a little more childish and loud and random, but it's not until he points it out that I really can say..oh, that must be it.

I don't understand the struggle myself, as I've never had to take pills in that way. But I tell him that hey, it's the way you are, and if a pill fixes it so you can actually focus at work and not sit and space out then isn't it really worth it?

It's worth it to feel okay, and function. You deserve that!

Poops said...

How did Yorkie get to be so smart? She makes an excellent point. If you needed to take insulin every day, you'd do it and not consider yourself weak. A pill is a pill is a pill.

Better living through pharmaceuticals, baby.

And I love the kicky new bag. I love the kicky old bag. I would get hives trying to decide which one to carry every day...