Just Some Random Shit

When I was a girl, my dad taught me about the crocogator; the meanest animal in the whole world. He told me that it had the head of an alligator on one end and the head of a crocodile on the other. Now, whenever I tell this stor,y nobody ever asks what I think is the obvious question about this beast (If he has a head on either end, how does he go to the bathroom?) and the anecdote doesn’t work nearly as well without that prompt. So, imagine you have just asked how the horrible, mean crocogator can possibly go to the bathroom with a head on both ends…. My response would then be, “Well, why do you think he’s so mean?”

Did you know that chemo causes constipation that no amout of laxative can touch? Did you know that the mighty crocogator would be no more scarey than a salamander if he could only take a shit? Seriously.

On 12-10-11, I quit smoking for reals (you know, not just for the morning). It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I simply had to change everything that I did everyday in order not to put myself in that uncomfortable/dangerous, “Wow, that cigarette smells great.” or, “Damn, I really need a smoke right now.” situation. Since my world was changing so dramatically anyway, and since my job was/is to care for Honey and deal with my own anxiety, and since smoking took me outside where I was neither caring for him nor myself. I was in a great place to change my behavior habits. The only real problem I had with quitting, is that I no longer have a ready excuse to get out of the house when I’m feeling overwhelmed.

I think that smoking cigarettes for nearly the past 30 years is what has allowed me to keep my juniors’-sized figure all this time. Cigarettes are a stimulant and an appetite suppressant. So, smoke’em if you have’em and call it the world’s most effective and addictive diet plan.

Apparently, I have the French genes (not french jeans, that would be too cool). Through my mom, I am a descendant of  both the Taylor and French families. The Taylors tend to be long and lean people; the French are quite petite, but prone to roundness. Pior to being out of work on disability, I was constantly on the move. I would take more than 10,000 steps before 2:00PM. I was very petite, one could argue that I was tiny and be on target. I wore the same sized clothes I had been wearing in college. The dress I married Honey in has been my go-to summer wedding dress for 16 years. I fully realize this pisses some people off.  We all have our issues. Some struggle to lose, some to gain, very few of us seem content right when we are… Anyway, since I have stopped working and smoking, my body is morphing into something that I am totally unsure of. I am eating the same way that I always have, but I am not metabolizing nearly as quickly. I’ve started walking and am trying some yoga and there seems to be less top in my muffin. But now I understand why people wear mom-jeans. They hide a myriad of “flaws”.

With every thing else that is going on in my crazy world, I don’t need to be worrying about my own body image issues. Damn.

I really hurt today. My right toes are numb and I have nerve pain in my neck and shoulders. I have been taking my meds. It might be time to look into upping the dosage of Lyrica. I feel like an ass if I complain though cuz cancer trumps fibromyalgia.

Dear Florida: It’s rather hard to “stand your ground” when you are chasing after someone.

Zimmerman’s co-worker who “defended” him to reporters on MSNBC didn’t help all that much. He readily admits that Z was following Trayvon but asserts that after he caught up to him Trayvon was the aggressor. My ex tried to use that as his excuse for spousal abuse. His claim: I assaulted him (all 98 lbs of piss and vinegar me assaulted his 215 lbs of beer weight) while he was holding me off the ground by my neck. Really? Cuz THAT sounds like self-defense to me. I never know whether to laugh or scream when someone much larger than another claims he or she had to resort to violence to protect themselves. Especially if the littler person is unarmed…..

I honestly don’t believe that any of the Republican candidates running for nomination in the 2012 election has a much of a shot in hell of defeating President Obama come November.

Gingrinch has to drop out of the presidential race pretty soon. I don’t think any other country in the world would be able to take the US seriously if our president was named “Newt”

Although it is unlikely to happen, I do so hope Santorum gets the GOP nomination. Mostly because I think he is absolutely nutters and I am looking forward to hearing Barack Obama bury him in a debate.

We went to Fuddruckers last night for dinner. Had coupons for a $7.00 flat rate combo meal. Love is not going back and demanding that the manager fix your bill when the clerk forgot to take the $2.00 discount off.

I’ve had an inspired idea for if I go before Honey. I am going to get a bunch of clear glass Christmas tree ornaments. You know – the kind that you can put confettie or glitter in? I am going to decorate them with the names of the people who should get them, maybe put a little note inside. Then, all Honey will have to do is funnel some of my ashes into each ornament and hand them out to all of my Darling Hearts. Then my “body” could be reunited with the parts of my heart that I have left along the way.

That is all for now.



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