Happy Brain Fart Day

Whew! Thank God for Memorial Day! 'Cause, see, I would have forgotten all those who are now gone. A whole day to remember! Lucky me! If this day didn't exist, I wouldn't wake up tomorrow, Monday, Memorial day, and say, "Huh! My dad is dead! I shall memorialize him today!" Whatever.

I truthfully think Memorial Day was invented so furniture stores can have sales. That's all I"ve been seeing on commercials. "Memorialize your loved ones and those who died fighting for your country by buying a new bedroom set!" "Really show them you care by getting this lovely washer and dryer combo, with approved credit! Everyone qualifies!" I throw up in my mouth every time I see a commercial that capitalizes on a Memorial Day, for Christ's sake...

I've got an idea! How about a day where we're allowed to FORGET the horror and sadness we've gone through if we've had someone close to us die?? How about that?? We will call it "Brain Fart Day" and we will be allowed, for one 24 hour period, to completely forget the pain and anguish we've gone through. We can forget the life-changing phone call, the funeral, the burial (or cremation), the choosing the death clothes...all of that, erased from memory for one convenient day! AND, we can even have the day off to do it! When I become president of the United States, I shall institute this law immediately!

My Dad, (who is in the grave, by the way, so I don't have to think about him until tomorrow...you know, memorial day) would laugh at this holiday. He'd say something like, "Why bother remembering me? I just sat around and drew flies." he would say in his self-depreciating way. I would tell him that although that was true, they were his flies and I loved them both. We would laugh.

But now, I guess I have just one stupid day to memorialize him. What a rip off! So tomorrow, I'll spend the afternoon tending to his grave (which I love doing, by the way) and maybe plant a couple of flowers around his and my grandparent's graves. I'll use my little cemetery broom and sweep away the dead leaves and mown grass. I'll dust off the praying angel I have sitting on his gravestone. I'll make sure the grass looks good and the pine cones aren't taking over. I'll clean the bird shit off his headstone. (HA!) I may even talk to him a little. But mostly I'll think about him. Like I do every single waking minute of my life. And sometimes even the sleeping minutes. I don't need a damn day to tell me to memorial. I do fine by myself, thank you.

I'm looking forward to Brain Fart Day. A chance to forget, for one luxurious day, the sadness. Celebrate with me, will you? Then we can go look at a New Dinette Set at the local KillMeNow Furniture Store. With approved credit, of course.

Jack and the DreamStalk

I had an ex-boyfriend named Jack. I could go into great detail about him, but I really don't feel like it, so I won't. I will tell you this: I had a dream about him last night. For some reason, I dream about him quite often. We were together for a year. (big Whoop). I'm still friends with his sister, and maybe that's where the dreams come from, but I guess I don't know for sure.

In this dream, I was walking through the county fair that was held in my home town. Except I'm kind of in a field. (Bear with me, my dreams are juxtaposed.) Jack walked out of this trailer and he was eating something. He looked at me and his eyes got really wide. "Baby!" he said. (He always called me that.) I tried to explain why I gained so much weight and how I gained it, but he didn't care. He kept looking at me, right in my eyes and kept saying, "I don't care about that. I'm just glad you're back." I didn't have the heart to tell him that I couldn't be back. I was a married woman. He was so happy that we were back together. The quality of light in my dream was dusky-perfect. Kind of a yellowish rosy quality that made me want to sob out loud or die trying. Things in the background weren't quite clear. Fuzzy and cottony, actually. All I saw was him and his caramel brown eyes.

We went sledding in my dream. On the ground. Then, on the streets.

Ack!! What the hell is that about? Jack...Jack broke my heart. Well, we broke each other's hearts. We were just not meant to be. He had a little boy/grown man quality about him that drew me to him in the first place. I didn't know whether to protect him or marry him. We were engaged for a short time, but a) he couldn't keep a job and b) we fought ALL THE TIME. It was a young love, stupid love type thing. Of course there were many other factors, but I don't have all day. It got so bad that he made me forget who I was. It took a while to find myself again. Not to sound all 60's about it. I didn't go "find myself" by doing macrame and smoking pot, although those both sounded good at the time. I remember one time, shortly after moving out of the apartment we shared, he called me and told me he couldn't live without me. It was too hard. He was married to someone else a year later. They're still together, and have about 1903871034 kids. Give or take. I talk to his sister sometime, and even though I don't ask, she always tells me how he's doing. She knows there's still some odd connection there. She's told me so. She said he asks (when his wife isn't around) if she's talked to me lately. He wants to know how I'm doing and stuff.

I don't mind dreaming about him. It reminds me of an older time, ago. You know ago? I've been there, I'm sure you have, too. I wish I could control my dreams a little better. Because if I could, believe me, there would be more macrame and pot.

Don't know much.

I don't know much. I did 20 minutes on the BowFlex tonight. Still don't feel well enough to do any cardio. Tomorrow maybe I'll try the elliptical. What an exciting life I have.

Tomorrow would have been my dad's birthday. For some reason, his birthday is really hard on me. My daughter's hamster died last night. That rodent was almost four years old. They're only supposed to live for 1 1/2 to 2 years. She was an old lady. She cheated death once because she escaped and fell behind the dresser and was smooshed there all day. She barely survived that. She was very old and had a huge tumor hanging off her tail. It was kind of gross. She was fine up until the end. Didn't suffer at all. She died in her sleep and why the hell am I going on and on about a dwarf hamster named Jackie? Jesus Christ.

Anyway. That's my life so far today.

Oh Look out!!!

15 minutes of exercise today. Look out! I feel thinner already. I guess I need to accept that until this cold goes away, I'm going to have a hard time. My husband and I walked for 15 minutes this afternoon and by the time we got home, I thought I was going to need to be defib-ed.

I guess I should be happy about doing something at least. I'll let you know how tomorrow goes. I bet you can't wait.

Pink Dragon

Let me start off by saying, I sure like these Seagram's Smooth Pink Dragons. Go get a six pack. You won't be sorry. I have a bad cold, so I figure instead of drinking the alcohol that's in Nyquil, I just as well drink some that's in the Pink Dragon.

Here's what I'm doing right now. Well, drinking a Pink Dragon. And, looking at a new Recumbent exercise bike. But, I got distracted by Tony Little's Gazelle. Do you know those things? They look kind of interesting, especially the newest model. I'm checking them out. I probably won't get one, though, because we've already got a basement full of exercise equipment. You'd think I was an IronMan Triathlete, looking at our basement.

I did get a good laugh, looking at this stuff, though. There's one testimonial where the lady is touting a huge weight loss of 67 pounds. I laughed. That's HALF of what I want to lose. 67 pounds is great, but for me, it just isn't enough. A drop in the bucket. Where is the pill that allows me to lose 120 pounds in a week? (I think it's on eBay.) I didn't eat anything today, hardly. I had a couple of ice and fruit smoothies, but that was about it. I tried this new Cortislim pill today and it kinda took my hunger away. At least I think it did. I sure haven't eaten much.

I've been on edge all afternoon. Let me list the reasons why.

a: A cop was killed in Denver while we were there last week. That really makes me sad and nervous. I'm not one who thinks "Oh, it can't happen to MY husband." I'm one to spend every waking moment thinking it WILL happen. I'm upset for a long time after these things happen.

b: I'm PMS-ing. Enough said.

c: When I took a nap earlier, I had a terrible dream that I was being chased by giants because my husband took a blanket off one of their beds. They were chasing me and threatening to get my daughter, so I was trying to hide with her. I kept waking up, then dozing back off and going right back into this crazy dream, so I ended up pretty much throwing myself out of bed and onto the floor, just to actually wake up and stop the cycle! I'm weird like that. Dreams like that one and any nightmare stay with me for a long time, no matter how nonsensical they are. Giants? WTF?

So that's my story for tonight. I didn't do any formal exercising, but I did spend a lot of time cleaning and going up and down stairs to do laundry. I won't count that, so tomorrow I'm going to start on my 100 minutes a week goal. I'm really going to try to stick with it.

Side note: We sold our boat today. To a very nice couple from Manitoba, Canada. Believe it or not, the lady actually used the term "eh" a couple times when we were talking to them. It was all I could do not to launch into a "Strange Brew" diatribe. They were very nice. He's a Royal Canadian Mounted Police member. A mountie. I told my husband that when they showed up I was going to go up to them, grab their hands and shout, "WELCOME TO OUR COUNTRY." I didn't.

Remember that one time?

Hi, Dad.

Remember when you were
Remember when you did
Remember when you said
Remember when you looked at
Remember that one time you
Remember when we
Remember that one time I

I hate to say this, and I don't want to say this, but I have to. The pain is fading. And with it, you. I still think about you every day. Sometimes every minute. But, it's more like I'm thinking about a TV show I've seen, or a song I've heard on the radio. Or a dream I've had. Nothing in the world, short of losing you, pains me as much as admitting that. It's not okay. Not with me, and not with the world.

I don't dream about you any more. I think that's part of the problem. Your memory isn't fresh in my mind anymore. I can only replay things from the past. Ron says it's okay. He says the human mind and heart can't live with that pain forever. We aren't designed, as humans, to live with that kind of pain, so it lessens. It fades a little, gets a little lighter.

I can't stand the guilt of that, though. Every minute of my pain was a grappling hook to you. I was connected to you still through the tears and heartbreak. Every stab through my heart was a reminder of you. When you said, when you did, when we...

I do find the good memories now, though. And the good are not painful to think about. After you first died, I couldn't even think of you for more than about 3 seconds before I would start dying myself. But now that the pain is moving aside a little, I can remember you. I guess that's the only good thing to come out of this. I'm still shocked by the sadness I still feel sometimes. It's been almost three years, and some days it seems like three minutes. I struggle with the lack of you. I have to keep stepping around that big, empty space that was your existence here. Your existence in my life and in this world.

When I meet you again, it will all come flooding back and it will seem like not even a minute has passed since we last met. But right now it feels like it's been three years since we talked. That's not okay with me or the world. Please visit me tonight in my dreams, dad. Please talk to me and tell me it's all okay. Please make me laugh like you did in a dream I had once, where I woke myself up I was laughing so hard. Please sit with me for awhile. Make things better for a little bit. For me and this world.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Fat

Okay. Here I go again. Another day, another diet. Want to know what triggered this one? A picture. a picture of me at a baseball game in Denver. I'm the biggest one in the picture by far. Matter of fact, I think I'm bigger than everyone else in the picture combined!

I'm not going to go into how I got fat (eating) or the reasons behind it (loneliness) but I want to go into how I'm going to try to fight it yet again. I have made a couple of goals for myself. First goal, to do 100 minutes of exercise a week. Spread out over 7 days, I think I can do that. My second goal is to stop eating like a freakin' goat. I am going to eat normal, healthy foods.

Whoever reads this (if anyone), I just want you to know I am so tired. Tired of not having clothes that fit. Tired of shopping at Lane Bryant. Tired of taking up so much space. I'm tired of going home after work and sleeping on the couch. (I will be doing that until this evil cold I have goes away, though.) Tired of feeling like I have the "fat person smell" of sweat and food and gross things. I'm tired of feeling bad about myself. I looked at those pictures and I'll tell you the truth, reader. I hate myself. More than I could have ever imagined possible. How could I be so weak as to let this happen to myself? Why can't I resist food? Why can't I commit to exercising? I know the problem. I eat too much and exercise too little. Great combination, huh? I know the problem, I just am having a hard time fixing the problem. It's a vicious circle. I'm too tired to exercise, so I don't. I can't exercise because I'm tired and I'm tired because I can't exercise.

Every day I go to bed feeling miserable about my weight and every day I get up feeling miserable about my weight. I also feel miserable during all the times in-between. This is not ME. This is not who I am. This is not who I wanted to grow up to be.

So, basically, reader, watch here. I will fill you in on how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, and how hungry I am. (Just kidding.) I'll keep a running log of exercising, eating, and emotions. I'll share my triumphs and defeats. I'll even tell you when I feel like giving up. If nobody reads this, that's fine, too. It's a way for me to tell my story, even to myself. I have to sort out the things in my brain before they come shooting out of my eyes. I will take my vitamins and drink my water. I'm a water fanatic anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem. Join me. Join me in my struggles and triumphs. Who knows? I might lose weight and you might get a laugh.

This is the stupidest Day I've ever had.

One time on "Cheers", Dr. Frasier Crane said something along the lines of "this is the stupidest day I've ever had." I've had one of those days.

First of all, my daughter is getting sick. She's got that hoarseness that heralds a cold coming on. Hopefully we can avoid strep for once this...week...

Secondly, work is really pissing me off. You would think, after 14 years, that I'd be used to stupid days. Nope. My boss e-mailed me three freakin' times about the SAME DAMN THING. And, on top of all that, acted like each time was the first! How annoying is that??? Then! Okay, THEN, I have this encryption software on my computer. I am THE ONLY one in the ENTIRE company that has this software, so that should tell you what kind of support I get from my help desk. If I have a question, they all kind of shrug their shoulders and remind me that I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS THE PROGRAM. I'm not blaming the help desk, but I REALLY need some support!

Crap. So, there were three files I could NOT decrypt this afternoon because something is all screwed up. I was there late and all frazzled when I finally got home. THEN, there's this entity that is sending things to I swear, every single person in our company, and nobody knows that anyone else is working on them, so we're all stepping on each other. Stomping, in some cases. THEN, I tried two different times to send a file via electronic transfer & the damn thing timed out TWICE for no reason. This is the first time this has ever happened! The help desk promised to help me out, but then they "forgot" about it and can't do it until tomorrow. Add that to my list. THEN, when I finally get to my car after work, some asshole has put a sign on my door telling me that I parked too close to him/her. What the fuck ever. They're lucky I didn't RAM them with my supervehicle. Don't touch my car.

To top it all off, I have a funeral to go to tomorrow, (I know, poor me) and my boss intentionally scheduled a meeting to end, like, 2 seconds before I have to leave! WTF??? Everyone is sick at work, too, so everyone who is left is stressed out, trying to cover. Grrrrr...OH! AND!! Found another problem with the way we're sending accounts! Great! And, I'm stressed out about an upcoming trip to Colorado to see the Braves play the Rockies. (Go Braves!) I worry about being on the road that long. I worry about leaving my kid, in case she gets sicker. She'll be in good hands with grandma, but I still worry, since she's not one to be away from home much. Neither am I, but Boy, do I need a vacation from these stupid days!!!!

Next post? Look for another famous Dr. Frasier Crane line, "Look at me! I'm running with scissors!"

He Restoreth Me

Phil lost his battle with cancer on Saturday. I asked someone at work if he went peacefully, and he said that the hospice nurse was there on Saturday and told Helena that she better go in and tell Phil goodbye, that the end was near. Helena went into his room, and Phil took his last breath. Very peaceful end to a very fierce battle.

Phil, say hello to my dad.