Been too busy for the past two days to post.
Things are still half shitty, half absofuckinglutlely wonderful.
----------------------------
Oh. And...
I miss the IRC still. But not so much.
I opened my AIM today and saw a bunch of their names. I do miss Fretty and some of the other posters. It's just so weird is all. Like when people go months without talking to their families. I just don't get that. Life is too short to be a fucking asshole about all this irrelevant shit.
But grudge away. Like I said. I don't get it. I don't think I was that much of an asshole. And now things are so hunky dory there, right? No. There are still some bitchy ass fucking people on there. And some people say mean things. And is it any different that I'm not around? Did I add somehow to the hatred on the boards? Oh hell no. That shit is still there. I just don't read up on it as much.
I do wish I could go back and post once in a while, but I think that monkeys will fly out of George Bush's asshole before that happens. Mullaney thinks I'm Satan.
But yay for Mullaney being in the NY Times. That was seriously cool. And Happy Birthday to Jed. Even though he hates me and hates the French, I still would wish him a good birthday since he's such a freaking old crotchety man.
Ce la vie.
I am going home to some Cheftovers. My baby will be home later.
I love you. I love you and you and you. But mostly you.
I was a dumbass and didn't take care of my bloodsugar levels last night. Sorry I scared you, Cheffy. You are a peach. I adore you and love you. Most much most love you!
Busy weekend.
Friday night I doped myself up on vicodan, picked up my neice to babysit Zoe, and went out boogying with my friends. I wanted to go see Queen Candyfloss at the tiara party, but had like zero funds (literally) and didn't want to be a dick and show up with no present. I'm gonna make it up to that girl somehow. Although I don't think I could have made it up to her as much as she got made up to on Saturday ... woot. Oh, nevermind. I love you, chica chica. I wish I could have partied with you, but the HC party didn't cost me a dime.
I finally was like, fuck it, and cashed out a few of my many 401k funds because a) I will work until I die and b) I'm not gonna see retirement age & Zoe will get the trust money and c) the penalty was only 10%. 10% of not much was well worth the money that I got from it.
I finally got some of the money today. It's my emergency rainy day fund. I'm also going to get a massage with it though when I get a day off without Zoe.
Anyway, I'm kind of fucked up right now at work because I took an extra strength vicodan since I had to pick up all this damn stuff today and knew I'd need it. Instead I'm Cheech AND Chong. But my friends wanted an update, so this will be sloppy and high and not make much sense. Yeah, like that's different than any other entry, how?
So I went and doped up and danced a bit. Got to see all my peeps, including nearly all of the Deb_u_team.
Damn, I love those girls. I wish Candy didn't hate the HC site so much and would hang with us, but I understand. We are kind of incestuous and goobery. I couldn't love them any more though. We had a terrific time on Friday. I only wish my girl Shutterbug had been there. Girl, your man is soooo in love with you. I'm sure you have noooo idea. We missed your dancin ass.
I do kind of wish my journal were named deb_u_chonch too. That would be funny. But I was deb_u_taunt before I was chonch, so there you go.
This chick on my old site is being a bitch. Now you all know why I was calling them cunts. Because ... uh, duh, they are. Talk about incestuous and backstabbing. I have a few awesome friends left there, and they are mostly the Off-Topic randoms. I still adore them too. You all know who you are. I miss you all, but don't miss that bickering. And Mullaney accused me of spewing venon. Has he read his own site lately?
Damn, this vicodan makes me fucking love everybody, no?
Chef, damn. I love you. Seriously. I am so full of love for that man, it's nearly insane.
I hope you don't let me down. I know, Deb_u_team that it's about me and him, but I know you all love him too. And I know you want what's best for me. Time will tell. I hope that one day you all will see what I see in him. It's gi-normous. Baby, please. You know it too.
And, yes, you all. He did guess what his penance was. Exactly. On the first try. See, G-man. Some of you all are mind readers and DO get it.
Ok, it's 5pm. I'm fucked up and have to drive all the way home in the rain.
I'll finish updating the weekend festivities later.
In addition to the penance, I still do want a certain piece of jewelry from Tiffanys. I had posted about that on my old journal with a picture. I nearly bought it for myself as well when I was in New York.
This will go well with my engagement ring, by the way.
Oh, jesus.
Shut up already.
It's the vicodan.
It causes me diarrhea of the mouth.
I am not the one doing any kind of penance. My writing abilities are seriously impaired by the vicodan, so I can totally understand why it seemed that way. Did I even fucking spell penance correctly. I don't give a shit either way I guess.
Chef owes me. He knows it. He truly is sorry. I can tell.
[aside]He was going to take Zoe to school yesterday so that she could sleep in, and I could get on to work. But when she woke up, she was crying and saying that she wanted to stay with him and not go to school. So the sucker that he is for that girl, he let her stay with him. By the end of the day he was like "she's making me lose my will to liveeeee." hahahaha. I was laughing so hard. "Chef, (yeah, she calls him Chef) pick my baby's booger. Chef, I want some yogurt. Chef, wake up. (sitting on his stomach and poking her finger in his forehead) Chef, tie my baby's shoes." I was like... um, Welcome to My World, Dude. I love that girl to the end and back, but man, sometimes she is just a handful. That was awfully brave (and stupid) of him to do.[aside over]
Anyway, as far as the penance I am going to give to him ... I know what I want from him. I want to see if he will do it without me telling him what I want. (does that make and fucking sense? These should be called the Vicodan Chronicles)
Yeah, I know that's kind of horrible, but I know he has it in him.
He knows it too.
I hope that you all one day will know it too.
I hope this is the last time I feel like typing shit about all of this.
I hope that kharma doesn't kick me right in the ass.
I hope that I can safely drive home on this fucking high dose of vicodan.
I hate drugs.
They aren't my friend.
Except when I'm writing.
And even then they aren't my friend sometimes.
I want a Goddamn margarita.
I have more physical therapy tomorrow.
I'm going to the circus in July for my birthday with my sister.
I am less than a month away from being 37. old. sort of.
I want to wear a tiara and send Candy a big bouquet of flowers.
I wish I had the money to send Candy a big bouquet of flowers (or a bouquet of earrings or leather whips or cat jeweled collars or some fake gold teef)
Ok, I'm hungry & dinner is waiting.
I would make a lousy junkie.
750 mg. Vicodan.
Is doing nothing. Nada.
I am in agony today, but don't want to go on disability. I need my full paycheck as 100% of that fucker is just not enough as it is, much less 2/3 of it.
It is nice though because both my boss and the HR guy around here have had some back problems, so they are pretty cool about letting me take some breaks to go do my pilates stuff & to go to physical therapy. Well at least they are pretending to be.
--------------------------------
My girl, Candy's birthday is Sunday. I am going to try my darndest to get to her party tomorrow night. Tiara in tow even. She's my mofo. I have actually only seen her in person once, but she's one of the coolest chicks I've ever met. And freaking hilarious. If I'm gonna drag my ass out anywhere tomorrow night, it would be to pay homage to the Queen of the Chonches.
I'm not sure how long I can stay though because the only sitter I have is my 11 year old neice. She's used to taking care of herself and watching her 3 year old sister, so I totally trust her, but it still seems like 11 is a bit young for going out. I have to drink non-alcoholic drinks anyway because of all my meds. No need to fuck up my liver. So we shall see.
--------------------------------
As far as the Chef Chronicles - Chef and I have been talking. I think he's come to realize that he fucked up big time the other day. And that he really needs to change his ways. That he has to change them for himself & not just so that he doesn't lose me. I don't want him to resent me or miss his "old" life or whatever. I want him to want to do it. I want him to feel good about himself and our life. Because I know how good it can be.
I'm being an asshole and letting my guard down and have let him stay. I figure I'll give him enough rope that he can either save himself or hang himself. Regardless I love him and really do want the best for him. Because when he's truly being himself, we compliment eachother so well.
The "deb_u_team" came over to my apartment for a pep rally come to Jesus meeting the other day.
[aside]The deb_u_team is a group of the most awesome chicks from my local forum site. They are a group of women that I hope to know for the rest of my life. I've never laughed so hard as I do with these chicks. And I value their friendship, advice, kindness, love and support that they give me every day.
So howdy to SAS, Frenchie, Longkiss, Ctal, Heartofgold, Crazyforlove, Sexyblueeyes, Shutterbug (by Proxy) and our fearless leader (kind of like our Budda) Candyfloss (by proxy as well)[aside over]
Chef basically got a good ream job. I had told him the girls were coming over and he brought cheesecake and cooked us some chicken and veggies. He also cleaned up the apartment and did laundry and stuff.
He didn't drink that night and didn't snore at all. That was nice.
But the girls seem to feel the same way I do. That when he's not "on," he's a fun & really sweet person. The Celebrity Chef persona should be left for the clients and not for the friends. And he knows that too.
And the shit with the White Trash Bitch has absolutely got to stop. One of my deb_u_team predicted that he'd find his way into her bed within a month. I think that if he really loves me (and I really do think that), that's not going to happen. But I am still wary of him calling her and stuff as they were platonic friends before. I don't really get it though. She's totally a passive aggressive, man chasing asshole.
The straw that will break my back is if he calls that bitch. There's absolutely no reason for them to talk anymore. I know she was his friend. But you can't truly be friends with someone who a) doesn't respect your girlfriend and b) wants to get in your pants and will do anything to do so. It just will never work.
So enough of that Ho Cake.
Mostly, I'm a very boring person most of the time. I can't hang with all the partying. I don't mind when he works or has work related things. But he knows he needs to hang up that character before he comes home to me.
I like it when we have our friends over. And hanging out with Cheffy and ZKat. That is so sweet. For so long it was just me and Z. And I was so lonely for my family. Having him around and when our friends are around makes me feel like my life is so full.
So we will see. He's on double secret probation. The deb_u_team is coming up with things he needs to do for penance (like get them tickets to Verizon concerts - his 2nd gig as exec chef for all the bands backstage; and helping me out with the household chores until I get my back healed up enough to do them for myself. My penance to him is top secret. I haven't told even him what it is, but I just want to see if he can figure it out.)
I really liked making our house a nice place before I hurt my back. It was a sweet little family - me, Cheffy and ZKat. I like having that to come home to.
I hope it stays that way for a long time.
Well, not the back thing, but you know.
I miss you "Lara." Life is fun, but you still know me best. Come see me soon *smooches*
And FUCK. I've not been babysitting lately so I'm a poor deb_u_chonch. Ug. Waiting on some cashamatoma.
I hate being poor. I don't even have enough for a damn BLT.
Peace and Pyramids for you all.
(and Cake for Candy)
This is written in the Hebrew Talmud
It says:
"Be very careful if you make a woman cry, because God counts her tears. The woman came out of a man's rib. Not from his feet to be walked on. Not from his head to be superior, But from the side to be equal. Under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved."
My physical therapy is going to so kick ass. It's pilates and a bit of yoga. It's hard work, but the payoff was immediate today. I am going to fucking heal myself. I never felt so strong before. I kick ass. The Year of the Deb DAMNIT!
I had my first non-painful sit moment for the first time in over 21 days.
It was awesome.
I love my friends. Absolutely love love love them. All my HC and IRC girls and guys. I love you so much for caring and loving me. I don't think you all have any idea of how much you all mean to me. New and old friends.
Candy, thank you so much for this site. For my place. It's starting to become a home to me again.
And I do love that dumbass Chef. He just needs to start loving himself and figure out that running away or self destructing isn't a reward. It gets you nothing. No thing! And it will leave you with nothing. Your friends will abandon you. You do a disservice to yourself and your family. And how can you be proud of that yourself? I don't want to be with someone that can't hold his head up high in any situation.
It's the Year of the Deb. Someone else should decide that it's the Year of the Chef and do right by himself for a fucking change. He has so much to offer the world, but refuses to feel that way.
I'm late now.
Christ on a cracker.
Peace and Pie to you all.
I hate pizza.
I hate how I feel when I eat pizza.
I should be full of sushi right now, but the delivery girl has the night off.
I feel a little better than I did in the prior post, but only a little and only because I've eaten now (yay! it's 9:42pm).
I broke a glass heart that was very special to me. It broke on the carpet. My vacuum cleaner is for shit. I also now have a worse back ache then before. Fucking POS vacuum cleaner. I hate wearing shoes in my house, but I hate bleeding more. Now the smell of pizza is making me want to gag.
The only light at the end of the tunnel is seeing Cheffy when he gets home. And trying to explain how angry/upset/in a shitty mood I am. (ok, I'm dreading that - but I don't like to edit. I really hate not being able to clean.)
and the other fact is that I picked up my new Vicodan prescription. It's stronger than the last one. I want to take two. Or three even.
Yay for modern medicine.
I feel like a junkie. I wouldn't take this stuff unless I really needed it. I wish I didn't have to. I really do.
Fuck. Fuck a duck. And fuck.
I'm watching "Who Wants to Marry My Dad."
Kill me now.
I am a horrible person to live with.
I'm very depressed now. No, make that severely depressed.
[aside]But Happy Birthday, Snert. Was great talking with you. I really do hope you and Snit come to visit me. [aside over]
I am really picky about the way I live.
If I could clean up right now I would. But I fucking can't. I've had a load of towels in the dryer since Friday. I can fold them, I like to fold them, but can't get them out of the dryer or put them away. I had to re-wash my robe and part of the load that was in the washer because it's been there since Friday as well. (my housekeeper was here forever, but just wasn't able to finish all the laundry - now there is a shitload more to do)
There is some stinky funky trash in the can that I can't fucking pick up. There are dishes in my sink. I think they jump into the dishwasher ... isn't that how it works? I left one pan on the stove dirty from breakfast. Guess I will be the one to have to wash it.
Our bed is all unmade. My computer, the radio and the air conditioning was left on all day. This after I paid the biggest electric bill I've had in three years. I need to buy groceries, but can't afford to (just spent another $70 on meds) and I can't stand up long enough to do so. What little food I do have, I don't have the energy to cook it. I'm sitting on a heating pad right now as my back is throbbing.
All I want to do is bitch right now. I'm so aggrevated.
This is why I like living alone. Because if I make a mess, it's my mess. And I never leave a mess for long. If someone else makes a mess (Chef, Zoe) it's still my mess? Fuck this shit. Fuck this.
I can't do it with this asshole back of mine. I normally wouldn't mind (ok, I'd mind a little) but at least before I could just do it. In the time it took me to type this, I'd have all that shit done. Because I'm Deb_u_Multi-task like that.
Because I'm a single mom and I have no choice BUT to clean the shit up or live in a hell hole.
But is it fair to bitch? I don't know.
I'm tired of bitching because it obviously doesn't work at all. I tried asking. I tried a note. Forget it. Fucking forget it because I'm gonna end up in a body cast since I can't live with this, but will fuck up my back even worse trying to clean all this crap up.
I hate to live in a pigsty. I didn't grow up in one. It's nasty. Funky. Zoe deserves to live in a clean home. I don't want her to get used to this way of living. I can't afford to have my housekeeper come out more than once a week, and even then I can't afford that. I paid her an extra $20 that I didn't have just to help with the laundry.
I want to go to the gym. I want to work out. My mind is fucking me up. My back is killing me. I feel like my body is betraying me.
I've spent like $500 or more on meds, doctor visits and that stupid fucking MRI. I thought I was gonna have a bit extra this month as it was one of those months where I got paid three times instead of two. It's nearly all gone. I think it might even be more than gone. I want to cash out one of my 401Ks, but the penalty would make it so not worth it.
And work? Oh My God. Work was so horrible. I can't figure out how to sit comfortably. At one point I had to go into the workroom and hide out and lay on the floor. The vicodan didn't do a damn thing except make me want to get out of there. Or make me want to cry. Ok, so I did cry, but then again, I'm sure you all knew that.
I hate my back. I fucking hate it right now.
And obviously, it hates me too.
I am going to go take a steaming hot bath.
After I order dinner and wash that nasty fucking pan.
Please put me on ignore right now.
Goddamnit this back thing is going to turn me into Deb_u_Bitch.
Whoops, too late!
He's gonna leave me because I'm a nag from hell right now. I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to. I'm sure that thought has crossed his mind at least more than once. No wonder he wants to fill up on Scotch.
And he says my eggs taste like dog crap.
I'm not worth two shits right now.
I even want to leave me.
MRI Results
Two herniated discs in my lower back. One was nearly bad enough to have to get surgery. Ouchie.
At least it isn't worse. It could be worse. I prayed big time that it would not be worse.
But it still made me cry. I am going to channel Sugarsnit, Thorn and Booki and make myself well.
I start physical therapy on Tuesday. I'm off until Monday. I need to be laying down right about now.
They upped my vicodan, but there is no way I can take 4 a day. I might tomorrow when I don't have anything to do.
Until then, my loves.
Peaches and PT.
I just love my man. Thought I'd get all mush and say that.
Booki - I still miss you all too. I visit every day. I have nearly weaned myself from the forum, but I still adore you all. Thanks for all the kind words. Good to see you g-man, you surely made me smile.
GAK!
The MRI. I'm surprised I'm not checked into the mental ward right now. First they make me show up a half hour early, just to wait another hour on top of that. When I finally ask the clerk how much longer (because sitting there was truly kicking my ass I was in so much pain), she lets it slip that the guy forgot about me. Thanks a fucking lot you assholes.
Good thing I brought some work to wait with. Fuckers.
So then I got in (and no, no pain meds for me, I don't know why, but I was afraid I'd freak out if I was all high and shit), and they tell me to go change.
I try on one of the robes. Ok, I know I'm not a petite flower, but this one was built for a friggin oompa loompa. It was tiny. I had half a tit hanging out and the prized debuchonch was in full view. I peer out the door and ask what the deal was with the kiddie gown? The nurse laughed (she is tall too), and said I could put one on regularly and one the other way; so both cracks were covered. Whew.
Ok, now the last time I had an MRI it wasn't at some crackhouse like this place was. It was one of the newer emergency rooms
[aside]I was putting groceries in the car a few years ago and the wind blew the trunk down right on my forehead. Ouchielikeamofo. I immediately saw stars and reached up and my nose was bleeding. I am glad that no one saw me ... mainly because I didn't want an ambulance, but also because I'm sure I looked like dork surpreme doing that. Turns out I had a severe concussion (and no, Zoe's dad wouldn't take me to the ER cause the Lakers were on), but they wanted to check my neck for any fractures. Thus the MRI. But it was an open one that made no noise.[aside over]
So back to the 1972 MRI machine. It was like a huge paper towel tube. I had to lay down on this skinny rail thing and then was told to hold still and they handed me earplugs. I was like earplugs??
The rail thing then was slowly moved into this claustrophobic tube from hell. I had my eyes open and good thing the guy told me to shut them. I swear I was freaking out. Panic attack coming on. It finally stops and I peek. I nearly had a stroke it was so tight in there. Then the noise.
Jesus, the noise was like a jackhammer. It was so loud even with the earplugs. I start counting down from 100 to calm myself the fuck down. It was horrible. I counted down to zero six times. I also said about half of a rosary in my head. I was in there for nearly 40 minutes.
The results will be in within 48 hours. My chiro has told me that I have to stay home until at least he sees the MRI. (since, uh.... I can't fucking sit and barely can walk)
That MRI was freaky. Seriously.
I hope to never ever have to do that shit again.
And if I do, I'm getting my meds on first.
Fuckers!
I thought yesterday was Tuesday.
So I thought my MRI was today. It's not. It's tomorrow.
I'm still high. I'm popping vicodan like chicklets. It's the only way I can sit.
Minnow... Minnow sweetie. My burns. I'm so sorry. I don't want it to be over and I don't want you all to give up. Please give it a few. I love you both. So much. (and no, it's not the vicodan talking)
I hope that it works out. If not, thank you for restoring my faith in love. Thank you for introducing me to the IRC and keeping my interest. I love you, I love you, I love you.
And I'm still high as snoop.
I'm high as a motherfucking kite. (so scuse the spelling)
Good thing Zoe is with my sister at Vacation Bible School. She goes after school all this week. Which is cool because I don't have to pick her up.
Butttttttt....
I went for my 2nd visit to the chiropractor this morning. He did some muscle stimulation (like electric shock to your muscles), and then cracked the hell out of my back.
I then drove to work. Except I had a freaky panic/pain attack on the way in. My back seized up and I started hyperventilating. It hurt so fucking bad.
I made it in to work, call our HR guy, and he came down to help me. He got me a bag of ice & the doc told me to take 2 of the muscle inflamation reducer pills (whatthefuckever they are called), and one of the muscle spasm pills. (yay - those make me dizzy).
I iced it for about 10 minutes and then my sweet Chef arrived. He gave me an escort home (where I was half-hyperventilating still the whole way), and then made me take a vicodan (because there wasn't any comfortable position for me to lay down - they all hurt like hell). He made me a grilled chicken sandwich with cheese and asparagus. It was amazing.
I then passed the fuck out.
A few hours later, I went back to the chiro and he gave me some injection of something that is supposed to make me pass out or whatever. Mostly it's made me highhhhhhhh.
I have a MRI scheduled for tomorrow at 10:30am. He thinks that perhaps since it is still so stiff and sore that maybe something else is wrong. I hope not. I hope that I'm just a wimp to the pain.
Good think I have work I can read at home. I swear I'm gonna get fired. It's a matter of days. I bet they hire my old assistant. She's been out of work for a while, but I wouldn't blame her for taking back the job. It sucks to work there though, so she might not. I dig my work, but I know she was less than thrilled.
Anyway. I can't fucking sit anymore. My back is aflame.
I love you, Frenchie. No, I haven't met your future husband. But I've talked to him on the phone. He sounds pretty cool.
Having sex when you are high as Snoop Dogg is fucking wild. He had me speaking in tongues and shit.
Thank God that is the only thing that makes my back feel better. heh.
Sexy. Sexy mofo.
I'm highhhhhhhhhhhhhh
All is well again with The Chef Chronicles.
Except that I miss him. We are desperately in need of some solo time.
So next weekend is gonna be fun. Friday and Saturday nights are Zoe-less.
Friday we are going to see Velvet Revolver
http://www.velvetrevolver.net/home/home.asp
apparently we have backstage passes - Chef's boss scored them for us. Sweet!
And then Saturday night is a supper club. It's going to be nice to finally have a date to this shindig.
Ok, NOW, I'm going to sleep.
Yay for vicodan.
And yay for Zoe. She was fantastic this weekend. I love that kid.
She made some book thing for school. We had to read it and return it the next day. Each child in her class filled out their own page. Fav. food. Fav. color. Picture of themselves. And favorite activity. Most put playing soccer, swimming, etc. Zoe put that her favorite activity was playing with mommy.
It made my heart smile.
Oh. And the Chiro update. Pulled muscle. Inflamed tissue around the lower 2 disks in my back. But my spine looks fab. He actually said I have one good looking spine. (Good thing something on me is good looking. GAK!) Going to do some rehab and he gave me some new script. But after one adjustment it already feels a bit better. Not quite as stiff, but still sore.
Ok. be gone.
Peace and well, shit. We just need some peace right about now.
Cheffy is at a party right now. He cooked for all our friends out at a badass lakehouse, and is now probably getting his drink on. I heard he was busy making sappy love speeches & toasts and stuff (see, I told you my girls are on it for me).
I didn't go because had already committed to babysitting overnight last night for Sis #1 who was celebrating her 10 year anniversary.
30 hours babysitting. I just got in. I'm tired as a motherfucker.
Thanks for your concern. I overreacted. Ok, no I didn't. But I was steamed to the point of disappointment. I refuse to get into the very same situation I just got myself out of.
Seems as if *ahem* someone needs a little reminder that he's part of a team and that a phone call is all it takes.
I don't mind someone coming in at 3am. I do mind waking up at 3am and freaking out because he's not there. Not to mention the whole calling the cops and thinking he was in a wreck.
He was late because of a work-type thing (whatever - a friend of his opened some new club), and we had just been together at a lovely party at my sister's that night. Cheffy impressed all the bunko (aka now the drunko) girls with his Chefly magic. (a total food orgy. It was awesome) I left at 10:30 to go home (Zoe's dad was watching her). I was expecting Cheffy shortly after me.
I woke up at 3am and no Chef. It absolutely freaked me out. He showed up like 20 minutes after I called the cops.
His explanation was lame. No, seriously y'all, it was. I didn't care what he had to do, just the fact that he didn't phone me was all.
Because I had this sad dramatic flashback of the last moment I saw him at my sister's house and was thinking ... Oh my God. That will be the last thing I remember of him. (this really sweet mushy I love you thing. It's secret. Don't tell him I told you all this.) And I couldn't handle it if that was the last time I was going to see that beautiful man.
He agrees. There was no excuse for not calling.
None. And that it will
never
happen
again.
Because he knows that next time. Well if there's a next time, he'll come home and all his shit will be packed up and piled on the porch.
And that's when some new chick is gonna be stuck tasting my chonch when she kisses him.
Since I'm a cunt like that.
Just ask ... oh, nevermind. She's so not worth it. Her man's gone all gay on her and shit.
Sometimes you have to do what you have to do.
Zoe is the priority here. No matter how I feel.
There is a note from Sis #2 in my bathroom. It reads: Don't ever forget you are a strong woman.
This is my mantra and my purpose. Zoe is my life. That child is my heartbeat.
I can't talk about it now. It's upsetting.
5am. Goddamn my back is seriously killing me. I should be asleep. Damnit.
Sorry, but the show's over, folks. A little soon for me, but I absolutely have no other choice.
And yes, I will be saying it if I feel like it. Because I'm a cunt like that.
How does my fucking chonch taste, bitch?
But you knew that about me already, didn't you?
I love you.
http://www.improvisation.ws/mb/showpost.php?p=300670&postcount=242
This
is
how
I'm
lookin'
lately
Well, except for the whole fucked up back thingy.
Oh, and I love you, my sexy NY improviser secret twin.
9am tomorrow. Appt with a chiro. We'll see if he can fix me so I can get my swerve back on.
Too busy to write enough today.
Going to Sis #1's casa tonight for a fantastic meal (prepared by my sweetie) and a fun party. I can't wait to post the menu. It's fantasmagormic.
*waves to Frenchie*
I love you Mel Mel.
You have always looked out for me and Z.
Apply for jobs in Houston, damnit!!
We need librarians here too.
*smooches*
2 scripts - $50 bucks.
Muscle anti-spaz drug & an anti-inflammatory. Not doing dick for the pain. I can barely sit here, much less walk around and work and stuff.
Fuckity fuck fuck.
Yes, I think I will see a chiropractor/masseuse when I get a bit of cash flow. I don't mind them so much, as long as it is like a one or two trip deal. Otherwise it's just too much crack.
No time to write today. It took me 20 minutes to walk 2 blocks. I'm so fucked.
Work work work.
I think I'm going to get fired.
I'm giving that one up to God though as there isn't shit that I'm even in control of anymore.
Bah!
I hate back pain. It's cramping my debstyle.
I love you. I mean it.
Wake me next time and the debuchonch is yours.
3:45pm.
I'm headed to the doc.
I don't want any Goddamn drugs. I take enough as it is.
Work. Um. Sucks it.
and so do I.
I should so be home in bed.
And, no, not for the reason you think.
Because my back is still killing me. It's like torture. I can barely sit. I actually said a rosary this morning on the way in to work. I was crying like a dick last night because it really did hurt so bad.
I hate to go to the doctor for stuff like this, but I'm going to ride it out for a bit.
Too much work. Too damn much.
My Cheffy is sooooo taking care of me though.
Porkchops stuffed with wilted spinach, feta and artichokes. Asparagus just the way I like it, a bit crunchy. Chocolate chip cookies.
I gave him an extra special treat.
More vicodan. More spilled secrets. Apparently I would like to be tied up?? This is news to me.
(shhh. Don't tell anyone, but I love this man.)
I think I'm pretty squared up right about now. Feeling better. No drugs. Feeling loved. It's still a secret.
Lovely Zoeless day. Going to be a fun fun night.
I had a first today. It's magic and I can't explain it yet. I don't know if I would even be able.
I rode 17.5 miles at the gym. All hills. I kicked my own ass again. But damn, I love it. I'm such a gym rat in disguise.
Someone's sleeping right now. I think I will find a creative way to wake him up. heh.
Drugs do nothing for me. I was up at the crack of ass today for no good reason. I know that I have messed my back up pretty bad because it doesn't get any better from one day to the next. It feels like there is a crick in my back and it wont unkink.
I should say that I am sick of alcohol right about now.
My house is awfully quiet.
Good thing I feel like crying my head off.
I can't sit here anymore because I can't stand it.
And bitches best stay away from my man. And she knows who she is.
I love him, and will seriously kick your ass, but I'm not gonna fight over him.
So back the fuck off, and quit playing your stupid games.
Busy day at work.
I'm so fucked.
I have a huge huge document to get out, but my back is so messed up that I can barely move. Three Aleve are doing NOTHING.
My Chef is sweet. I was crying last night in the shower because I knew today would be horrible. I'm scared to death of this pain. I've been hurt pretty bad before, but I've never been this incapacitated (although not enough to jump my sweetie - heh!) I am having a hard time sitting and walking. I am even tempted to call my primary care doc, the asshole.
Anyway, Chef jumped in there with me and washed my back and my hair. I have never felt this loved before. The big mush that he is. I don't know what I have done to deserve this, but I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet.
The fun part was Tuesday night. I took some Vicodan and got all high. Apparently I was spilling all my secrets. I love to get that way. I swear if I weren't a responsible person, I would be a junkie. I'm way too embarrassed to even tell y'all what I said to Chef, but I might later. When the timing is right.
Anyway, no Chef-tovers today. Sweetie got a root canal yesterday and I cooked - Pizza Hut that is. BLT for me today. I'm so fucking spoiled.
Gak. I'm such a dork.
I love you!
Frenchie, damnit. Why you are single amazes me. You are a funny ass chick - and hella sexy.
Men of the world, contact me if you want this hot Panamanian chick's number.
Seriously. She's smokin' hot. I'd do her if I wasn't so into dick and all.
[for those that don't read blog comments - Sweet]
This woman has really brought a new purpose in my life. For those few that know me, you people know where my career is headed, and how important it is to me. However I really didnt want to take this ride alone. I have walked (or ran through) this life with blinders on very seldom stopping to take a look around at just how wonderful life is. These two gorgeous angels have just arrived in my life and now I have this amazing time in my life to share with them. She is what made me take the blinders off for good and stop running.....now just casually walking.
Posted by chef at June 1, 2004 05:11 PM
Dear you,
I have been waiting for you. It sometimes seems all my life. You, who made me want to share myself and gave me the courage to do so. These exciting times are just beginning, all anew. Hang on babe this is gonna be fun. Just wait till.... .All your dreams I am gonna try to make come true. As mine are slowly unfolding everyday spent with you. So here I am. No longer waiting or running. Here with you.
Chef
Posted by chef at June 1, 2004 05:26 PM
but really I just want the fabulous debuchonch..
Posted by chef at June 1, 2004 05:32 PM
You big mush.
You're welcome to as much debuchonch you can handle.
"Fuck it Deb. Just take it."
Yes. I'm a happy Mommy. (And, um, it has way more to do than having a happy chonch, btw you goobs.)
And that scares me to infinity.
I've been in this situation before. About eight years before. Meeting my husband, falling in love, marrying him, having our daughter and not exactly living happily ever after. Not even close.
But this time it feels safe. Because of experience. Because of him. Because we both know what our priorities are. And because we both know how good it can be and what is important to us in a relationship. I guess you have to kiss a whole mess of frogs [um can you say cheating, faithless, worthless bastards?] before you find the prince. He listens to me and is so giving, loving and honest. (um, and he's just a sexy motherfucker!)
What an incredibly good man he is.
I hope I know him my whole life. I hope I can make him happy.
Because I've waited long enough for him to find me.
Damnit.
--------------------------
It was a great weekend.
Saturday night was a party with my local forum friends. It was crazy and hilarious, and for the first time in years, I actually got a bit drunk (which is not going to happen again probably for a few more years) but it was still really fun. Chef and I were late (heh), but he cooked up some prime rib and chicken fajitas and then got his Chef Style on. He was ridiculous and sweet at the same time. Both flirting with all the girls and then coming up and telling me the sweetest things. Kissing me and the glances my way with that look in his eyes. Whispering in my ear and making me laugh.
He is crazy and lovely at the same time.
I spent Sunday at Sis #1's house. Chef worked all day and then offered to come over and cook dinner for all of us. He is like magic in the kitchen (heh, and the bedroom, but I'm keeping that to myself for now).
It was hypnotic. My sister, brother-in-law and I watched and he mixed, sauteed, grilled up the most amazing dinner. Steak with bearnaise-sauce, grilled zucchini, mushrooms and onions, and a mixed salad with toasted pine-nuts and lemon cilantro dressing (which was exquisite), and my brother-in-law broke out a great wine (which is something I'd love Chef to teach me more about).
I absolutely love it when he cooks. His enthusiasm is like a little kid. He's so passionate and loving, and gives his whole heart when he cooks. It's really beautiful. Like magic.
We then hung out with them, and I could tell that they liked him very much. My sister invited him to work a cooking demo for her bunko party, and my brother-in-law invited him to go play golf (which really floored me). They talked about scotch and wine and food and fishing and traveling and France and we could have talked for hours.
Mmmmm the discussion on chocolate alone was orgasmic. He described a dish he created for a cooking competition that he said was like a volcano - filled with "chocolate lava." My sister said she was going to have a dream about that.
It was the first time I was proud to bring someone around my family. Because I felt like he is on their level - Educated, experienced, generous, funny. And not trying to be some pompous asshole. He impressed them, but it wasn't like he was trying too hard. I've brought a few around to meet them (Dr. E, thongboy, Zoe's dad), but none of them seemed to spark more than a "oh, he's nice." or "he seems pretty cool."
This time there was a genuine interest. The conversation wasn't strained and it all felt so cozy and easy. Mostly I could tell that they were happy that I am seeing someone well ... worthy of me. Someone that I don't have to make excuses for (Zoe's dad), or explain some type of complicated uncomfortable situation (Dr. E - the not calling thing).
I don't think I can quite explain how nice that was.
And then yesterday. Finally a chance to sleep in.
Oh ... uncomfortable moment #32759834795. Zoe's dad took her to see Shrek 2 yesterday. When he showed up, I introduced him to Chef, which was pretty awkward to begin with (since he's NEVER met anyone I've dated, nor did I ever want him to). But when he returned her, I was just getting, um ... out of the shower, so Chef had to answer the door. It was just kind of strange, but not horribly so.
Then we hung out. Grocery shopped. And he took Zoe swimming for an hour (her new hero) while I took a nap. He calls her Z-Kat (Zoe Katherine). She's like his little sidekick. He said he will teach her to cook (since I have already taught her how to ... er, microwave)
[aside]It was fucking Africa hot yesterday, btw. I am dreading the entire summer.
He made us some dinner and then we put Zoe to bed and stayed up talking about what we wanted and where we were going with this. He then showed me why his Chef Style is the bomb. Woot! And then I showed him why dating an older woman is just dead sexy.
The only downer of the weekend is that my health is kinda shitty. I think all this partying, housekeeping (my sister's casa and mine) and lack of sleep is starting to lower my immunity a bit. My kidneys are kind of achy and I'm pretty tired. Not to mention I hurt my back picking up Zoe this morning. The aleve is doing NADA.
But back to the Year of the Deb. I'm dragging my ass to the gym tonight, and my sweets has been taking care of my healthy diet (and some *ahem* exercise too - heee).
Anyway, I know what I have to do. Don't worry. I'm still feeling rather sweet.
And I love you all.
Damn. I am going soft.
So ... well fuck y'all, then. Hahahaha
Peace and Paprika to you.
Sorry for the gushing. I'm just really overwhelmed right now.
But in a delightful way.