debutaunt.com

But I Motherfuckin' Voted

Kerry.

Not that it fucking matters.

Motherfuckin Bush rules my state.

Because I'm surrounded by fucking redneck idiots.

My World is Sucking Hard

broke. sick. feel good, but my body is sick. fat. losing weight but I'm still fat.

more meds from my doctor this morning.

Yeah. Insulin again. Fuck me.

He did some bloodwork & I have to go back in two weeks. But most likely I will have to take some kind of insulin. I might check into an insulin pump, but I still just want to keep losing weight. I know that will make a difference. I haven't worked out as hard as I used to, but I do some. My back still sucks it, but I'm getting more flexible and ... eh. whatever.

Right now I feel like giving up. Giving in. I feel like the losers on The Biggest Loser show. First week the dude lost 22 lbs. Works his ass off the next week and he gains 3. It's depressing.

My blood pressure was down & I've lost 9 lbs since my last visit a month ago, but my blood sugars are up. Way up.

I ate lunch at 12. 2:30 they were at 298. I just took them again now (5pm) and they are still 237. I haven't eaten anything.

All I ate for lunch was a fucking egg salad sandwich. Yeah. It was a *fucking* egg salad sandwich. That's all I ate. I'm broke. It tasted craptastic. Probably because I've eaten the same stuff for weeks.

I just wish I could drink some slimfast or some shit & be done with it. I hate food. Food is my enemy.

Enough complaining. I'm working at it, but am frustrated as all hell.

There's no magic pill. No one is going to bail me out. When I finally face it, I know all this. It's my battle and I give up and I'm dead. So that's the choice. Deal or die.

Pre-Halloween Ghosts

I saw a doctor on the bus today in his scrubs. It made me a bit sad because he had the exact build of Dr. Egypt. I always loved how he looked in his scrubs.

Oh well. Movin on...

Zoe's dad is moving to New York for some ??? months. His father got him a job that pays $6 more an hour, has benefits, and he can live at his folks place. I'm happy for him, but sad for Zoe. I know she will miss him big time. He's been really really great with her for months. She adores him too. I'm going to miss my mom's nights off too.

I've had friends offer to watch her for me if I ever want to go out, but I feel too guilty to do it. I'm sure in a few months I might change my mind.

This is the start of my new life.

I even worked out this morning. My back was freaking hurting like a beyotch though, but it was ok. It's like this pilates, stretching, yoga tape. Not too bad. Denise Austin is starting to sound like a man though.

The Year of the Deb is coming to a close (even if it is 90 fucking degrees damnit - It's nearly NOVEMBER). So perhaps it should be The Decade of the Deb.

Because I have my own deals and issues to deal with. I want to be like those chicks on The Swan, but without all the wierd surgery and standing their in some ugly ass grey granny underwear for all the world to see.

I know I can do it. And I must do it for me and Zoe.

Ok, work to do.

Peace out.

Simmer Down Now

In response to some comments. My apologies to Sass, but I didn't mean it thataway.

Yes, I used your IM convo S., but you weren't the only one discussing it with me that day. What was projected was not exactly a directly a response to what you asked, but moreso of how the majority of my friends breathed a collective sigh of relief when they found out that we split.

"He was never good for you."
"There's something just shady about him."
"Is he using drugs?" (um, fuck if I really know or knew)
"Why didn't he send you money when you needed it?" (um, again. fuck if I really know)
"He was such a douchebag when he got drunk." (yeah, no shit)
"I know he loved you. Why was he such a fuckup then?" (this is the million dollar question, cause the dude had so much potential. He just had too many issues.)

blah blah blah.

youknowthisandIknowthiswhichiswhyIdidwhatIdid

(And usually [unfortunately] Sass, you heard the one-sided convos, gripes, etc. because you always asked about it. Which kind of bugged me. Only because I didn't like talking about it. Of course I was embarrassed. Who wouldn't be? I felt like an idiot. And it just kept getting worse. Yes there were some awesome times and moments that are so clear in my head about how wonderful and sweet he was, but I don't think anyone could ever get that. Because after all the shit that he put me through, all of it just seemed so fake.

And Goddamnit, Sassy, you are fucking high-larious and I wish that we were better friends, but I always kind of felt like an asshole talking to you about my shit relationship. I'd much rather talk about funny stuff. Or go hang out and have a beer. But since most of my friends are the ones that you don't really want to hang with, that never seemed an option. This is something that I'd love to remedy, but who knows.)

But *I'm* the one that is glad it's over. I was overwhelmed, tired of the drama, tired of excuses, tired of the lies, and especially tired of it being so much work. Tired all around I guess.

I've been in several serious relationships, but none were that hard. None made me be so full of self-doubt. None made me so distrustful.

And all of it was so confusing. Because I know he loved me. I loved him. When he wasn't fucking up, he treated me like a queen. I saw the potential he had. I saw what our relationship *could* have been and I guess I wanted it so much I figured I would have to make it work. And to me the "could have beens" were blinding me to the "what really ares."

But you know what? It shouldn't have to be like that. It was (to me) more about working on making it work than wanting it to work I think. I wanted to throw in the towel and I know I did a few times. Because it was just so fucking exhausting. Exasperating. Overwhelming.

Like I said. I'm sure it was for most of you (my friends) as well. Why is someone so smart going through all this shit? Why does she put up with that kind of behavior and the lies? What is wrong with her?

When it was good, it was great. But he just didn't want to (or couldn't figure out how to) be the man he could be. He just wanted to hold back and be stuck in the past and be stuck in his issues. And as many times as I told him to "snap out of it," he just wouldn't. I never got it. I still don't.

(maybe, like I said in Lunchbox's journal, if he would just stop living like a fictional character, and not have this fictional vision of what life *should* be, and start living in reality and dealing with real-life ... that's what I'm sayin...)

We all have issues. We've all had shitty relationships, but to project those fears and those deals on your new partner dooms you to failure from the start. It would be one thing if your partner is showing similar behavior to what you've dealt with in the past, but to put it out there first, to think that they are the same - with no proof, is just wrong.

Anyway, I apologize to Chef. It's rather unfair of me to talk about Chef.

So I think we at the debu_journal need to drop it from here.

Mmmkay.

I'm too dorky

Today they are doing some construction here at work.

Some drill thingy sounds like the loudest fart you could ever hear.

And for some reason, every time they drill, I laugh.

How much punishment is enough for one person?

Too Close to Home

"I love my country so much, man, like an exasperating friend." - Mike Doughty

from the Society for the Preservation of Improvised One-Act Plays.

Part of that phrase, "exasperating friend" - those two words describe me pretty, well ... perfectly. I know I totally exasperate some of my friends, but they still adore me. Ok, um, they still like me well enough.

[aside]
"You broke up with him again?"

internally I'm thinking, yeah, I know. I know. You hate(d) my boyfriend. You are secretly (and some not so secretly) glad that it's over.

[aside over]

But that entire phrase. "I love my country so much, man, like an exasperating friend."

Well that's kind of how I feel about Cheffy.

It's just when the exasperation outweighs the love that it's time to say farewell. Ah. We tried. And the scale just tipped a little too much for me.

Such was the case with zoesdad.dregypt.everyassholeivedated.

And you know what. Sometimes I know it's over because I'm exasperating. At least I admit that in the beginning of the relationship. At least I don't go from Prince Charming to a toad. I'm a toad all the way through.

I admit I'm difficult. I'm a bad roommate. I have OCD. I have health issues. I scream. I'm inconsistent. I'm broke then rich then broke. I curse. I don't always tell you how I feel. I cry when I don't get too much sleep. I pout. I mope.

And such is part of the debu_charm.

Imma go cry now.

thankyouverymuch

Vote You Non-Americans!!

My non-American friends might be interested in this site:

http://www.globalvote2004.org

The “non-American” votes from that website will be compiled and released to the U.S. media just before the election.

Kind of lets you have a say in things.

That's Wot I'm Sayin'

Hell 101

I have been taking the bus to work now that we moved downtown. I really do kind of dig it because I can catch up on my novel reading. Current read is The Horse Whisperer.

Sometimes when I'm late in the morning, I catch a ride with a perfect stranger so that I can take the HOV lane to work & get there faster than waiting for the next bus.

So this morning I get in with this chick I rode with the other day. I don't remember how it started, but she started in on what a swell guy GWBushasshole is.

At this point I was really wishing I had waited for the bus. I'm so sick of politics and thinking about George W makes me want to gag.

But basically what it boils down to with her for her vote is the bible. And how abortion and gay marriage is wrong. That's it. Nothing else. That's what she's basing her vote on. Not the economy, war, healthcare, etc.

Because two guys want to poke eachother in the poophole.

I'm sorry, but I don't give a shit what two gay people want to do to eachother.

I give a shit that I pay too much for my healtcare. I give a shit that my friends are under or unemployed. I give a shit that this war is costing us a bazillion dollars. I give a shit that my salary doesn't go as far as it used to. I give a shit that the world hates us because of Operation Piss Off the Planet. And on and on and on.

She also said that she knows that Georgie prays to God and that he is obviously taking direction from God about his decisions. I murmured that he has to (because he's such a stupid fucking moron). I should have said, "Are you sure it's God, or is it Cheney?"

And as far as abortion. Ok, abortion sucks it. I don't think it's a good thing. I am freakish about taking my birth control pills because if I got knocked up right now (can you say immaculate conception), I sure as fuck wouldn't have another child.

Not when I am still minus 20 hours on my vacation time and I heartwrenchingly take Zoe to daycare when she's sick. Not when I have a chronic disease that puts me in a high risk category. (yeah, fuckers, I could get a flu shot if I wanted). Not when I'm 37 (decrepit eggs) either. So yeah, I'd be the first in line at my OBGYN to do it. This is why I have a daily alarm that tells me when to take my pill. Cause I really would rather not have to vacuum out my uterus. N-E way...

But I'm not gonna tell some scared woman or teenager that she's got to pass a watermelon through her cooch if she doesn't want to. It's none of my motherfucking business. Or anyone else's. Do the fucking uptight pro-lifers really think this is an easy decision for anyone? When the world wants to pay me to stay home with my six kids, then hell yeah, I probably will have a team full of mini debu_snots. But until then ...

Say it all together chirren ... "Bush, stay the FUCK out of my pussy."

So weird HOV driving lady, if abortion and killing is wrong, then why is killing innocent children in Iraq ok?

These pictures look very similar to the shit that pro-choicers put on signs WARNING - THESE PICTURES WILL MAKE YOU CRY

I bet if the war was shown in those graphic terms, on a daily basis, like the people who are THERE GETTING THE SHIT BOMBED OUT OF, well I'm sure they wouldn't be supporting our "War-time" president.

And if someone did that shit to my Zoe and tried to say it was collateral damage, well motherfucker, I would be the first to sign up as an insurgent to shoot the fuck out of whomever did it.

I asked this Godly woman about the war and she quoted some bible verse about killing "bad" people - kill them all but don't take their spoils. Whatthefuckever. So I asked her what about all the innocent women and children? She replied with "what about all the women and children that they killed on Sept. 11th?"

Um. That was Osama. Now I know you bible thumpers think all brown people are the same. And that Osama sounds awfully similar to Saddam, but honey... they aren't.

These are but a few of the brown people that this war is affecting ...

[aside]
From Iraq Body Count - between 13,296 and 15,377 Civilians reported killed by military intervention in Iraq. Let's see. That's already nearly 5 times the number of people killed on 9/11. Can you imagine the horror, the protest, the outrage, the number of people signing up to join the military (just like the Iraq Insurgents) if that many people were killed in the US by another country?

Finally, I got to my destination (THANK GOD), just as she was saying something about Muslims taking over the world because it was a prophecy ...

Know what? I'd much rather deal with the Muslims that this hypocritical asshole.

Probably a horribly bad day to talk to me about politics.

Cause I watched (ok cried through) Fahrenheit 9/11 last night.

I Couldn't Remember

Ok, I had to log on to my site and kept mis-typing the password.

kissmybutt19times
kissmyass19times
crap
lick

oh yeah, it's lick

I wish I could just take them down. Especially since I read a host of blogs nearly every day and have been commenting more. I think it's kind of rude of me not to share, ya know.

But someone else did it for me. And she's up to her eyeballs in stuff, and some sad stuff, so I don't feel right asking her to undo them.

I can't use the control panel here at work, and when I looked on my CP at home, I was so fucking clueless. God knows I barely logon at home anymore, but I sure don't have any time to figure it all out (which is something I'd like to do one day ... but when I have free time, there just seems to be so many other things** I either want or need to do *le sigh*)

**Like Bitchfest 2004 this Saturday - more details to come.

Mostly I'd like to take them down because I'm over all that crap with the jerks that were peeking here for gory details. I have heard that they still discuss me. Recently. That I was the topic of discussion at a dinner. A total stranger came up to me and told me that she knew who I was and knew all about me.

I'm like ... wow. that's truly fucking pathetic.

All the stuff going on in the world. Politics. Sports. Books. Movies. Entertainment. Culture, etc. etc. etc.

And they have to talk about me? Fucking sad I say.

Sometimes when I see these people that have so much nerve to discuss me behind my back, and then don't say shit to my face, I really feel like walking up to them and smacking my name right out of their mouths.

Cunts. The lot of them.

Eh. I think about them about as much as I worry about toe cheese.

Pills and Booze Should Just About Do It

More troubling to me than Zoe wanting to be a *cheerleader* for Halloween is that she liked Bush over Kerry when we were watching the debate.

(They learned about presidents on president's day.)

Mom: Which one do you like better?

Z: I like Washington (hey, she was close. They both are George)

Mom: Why do you like him?

Z: Because I colored him. (Good nuff reason for a 4 year old)

Mom: Well Mommy likes John Kerry. I'm going to vote for John Kerry

Z: Why don't you like Washington?

Mom: His name is George Bush. Washington was a president long long ago. Before I was even born (which to her is 198340238 years ago)

And we don't like him because he steals our money (hey, I had to come up with a reason she would understand. It's not like I'm going to let her watch Fahrenheit 9/11)

Z: Well then the police should put him in jail.

Mom: Yes. They should. Indeed they should.

Day 3 of Zoe's hives. It's spookin me out.

Should I stop taking my birth control pills? Cause I've decided I'm never having sex again.

Commuting, The Good, The Bad, and The Stinky

Some dude next to me on the bus yesterday smelled like a bum's nutsack.

Then he fell asleep on me and spread his legs all wide so that our thighs couldn't help but touch.

Then later his hand flopped over on my thigh and he woke up.

I kept wondering if he was really awake, but pretending to be asleep just so he could be creepy and lascivious.

The thought crossed my mind to fucking cock punch him, but I controlled myself and oozed every bit of my body over on my seat and out into the aisle. Considering I have about 5'10 of me, and have an ass the size of New Jersey, it wasn't an easy feat.

It was all I could to to keep myself from hurling.

Back in the Day ...

Three apathetics, an angry and a whatever.

I call bullshit. I'm not good at tests, obviously.

And I am counting the minutes until I can get on that damn bus and see my hive-covered child. (yes, she still has hives, poor baby)

We will be making pumpkins and bats tonight out of construction paper. That is, if she isn't too benadryl head to do so.

She is going to be a cheerleader for Halloween. It's more fun to me than Christmas. Spoookyyy goblin.

Her first halloween she was a baby goblin. Then she was a biker baby, complete with leather pants, I love Mommy tattoos, and motorcycle boots. Then she was Shaft with her leather pants, black turtleneck, and black leather trench coat. Then she was Jackie Chan (see below).

So this year she wants to be a cheerleader. I'm like, what about being an astronaut or a mad scientist - no. She wants to be a cheerleader. Perhaps it is because my sister is a crazy Texans fan and she dresses up to every game. Anyway, maybe I can talk her into being a spooky cheerleader or something wicked like that.

She wore her boo t-shirt to school this morning.

She is after all my mini-me. We must celebrate Halloween all month.

The story on the hives ...

I spoke too soon. 7am in mid-October. Already was 80 degrees. Fuck. Nasty.

This afternoon, we are getting up to the 90s.

Nothing else in my life right now is write worthy. Except that Zoe scared the crap out of me last night.

Those fucking commercials for the small-pox-scare tv show. Zoe woke up with hives. All over her stomach, armpits, neck, and legs. It was 1am. They turned off my cell phone (for lack of payment - go figure...), and I was panicking. I was worried that it was something serious like measles or whatever.

Thank God the mom instinct kicked in (although damnit, I never did find the calamine (sp?) lotion). I threw her in the shower. Armed with benadryl, mom's old t-shirt, and some anti-itch cream, I drugged her up, slathered her in ointment, put her in my big t-shirt, and prayed for the rest of the night. I was pretty sure it was a reaction to the detergent I used yesterday at my sister's house. It's Tide from now until the end of time.

Seriously. God helped me out there. Because I sure couldn't afford to miss work/go to the pediatrician. By the morning, her welts were gone. Although she woke up with a major case of Benadryl head.

I love that kid. Man, I love her so much.

That's enough for now. I'm tired of being the bitch. And I'm tired of being anyone else's bitch.

Agua Mas Fria

To the fat lady next to me on the bus last night.

I'm sorry, but I had some major stink in my pits. Yah. I had some big time BO. My office is really hot to me, and then late in the afternoon I got my performance appraisal. They had me sweating. For a freaking hour.

A two. They gave me a two out of five. Because I missed work because of my sick kid and because of my back. And because I'm a bitch, apparently.

Doesn't matter that the people that *actually* work with me don't think so, it is because there was an incident two years ago with this asshat twenty-something clerk. She got mad at me because I wouldn't help her forge her timesheet hours and because I wouldn't inflate her salary so that she could afford to buy a new Honda accord. She also was an incompetent sloth.

After that, I became Satan to her. Literally. That's what she called me. No matter, I hear she is working as a salesgirl at some accessories place in the mall or something. She was an idiot. And a drunk. And she dressed like a hooka. Seriously - skintight white pants & she'd wear red Lane Bryants (she was over 200 lbs she told me). Her shirts were so tight you could see the fat rolls spill out of her bra. Whatever she was going to wear to the club that night became appropriate work attire to her.

But since there were a few girls that liked her (drunks are fun - doncha know), I still have the bitch reputation. Doesn't matter that the enginerds I work with like me, or that the editors that have worked with me don't think I'm a horrible witch, what matters is that there are still rumors/gossip about me.

[see - when the former editor and the current new editor started, they were "warned" by this fucktard clerk (aka the secret lesbian crackhead - literally) that I was horrible to work for and that they would hate me. I adore Lara as she is my secret sistergirlfriend, and I really like the new editor as she's smart & full of sass. That's the kind of shit drama that I put up with. I'm just glad they are located at the other end of the building now.]

Anyway, I replied to my appraisal with a four page note commenting on how I did not think I warranted a two. Three maybe, but a two - hell naw!

Why? BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING WITH MY MONEY. Our raises are based on that score. It's so not cool TO FUCK WITH THE MONEY OF A SINGLE MOM!!!

So fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you.

Damnit, I wish I was independently wealthy, so I could tell them to shove this eyeball-glazing job up their respective assholes.

So today I plan on drinking a ton of water so that I don't offend the person next to me on the bus. Cause I surely could smell myself & I totally was offending my own nose.

Peeeyewwww!!

A Bloody Tired Weekend

RIP Ken Caminiti. He was a rookie back in the day when I used to date an Astros batboy (which co-insided with the last time I actually kept up with baseball - many moons ago).

Yay for steroids & cocaine. This is your heart. This is your heart imploding on drugs.

Dumbass. He had 3 kids & a wife. I hope he at least had some fucking life insurance or something to leave to them. Fucking asshat. I really do hate drugs of any kind.

--------------------------

I am broke. Very broke. I can't get out of this hole & may have to a) sell some stuff and/or b) borrow an infusion of cash. I can't bring myself to ask my dad. He's given me way too much. And I cashed out my 401ks long ago, so I can't borrow or close any out.

I can't pay my lovely car note, or my insurance, or my daycare, or for food, or my phone bill, or my housekeeper for this week. I went out and flirted just so I could get a beer. Blah. I should just become a hooker or something. Cause no matter how fucking ugly you are, someone will pay to fuck you.

Being poor is stressing me out. It's making my complexion look like crap. Which is beyond unusual. Because I take immaculate care of my skin. Someone guessed that I was 24 Saturday night. He wasn't kidding either. (um. I was like... add 13 to that).

----------------------

I may look craptastic ...

But my pee is a nice bright yellow from these supplements. I think they are helping, because I have more energy, but damn the pills are HUGE. 10 a day - 5 in the morning and 5 at night.

------------------------

I wanted to go to tiara on Friday night, but they made me work so late & I was cash poor. Too poor to get a tiara, that's for sure. Pretty fucking pathetic.

I really wanted to meet the girls & see my Sassy S again. I can't believe I've only met her once in person because I feel like I know her. She's always got something to say about what's going on in the world and usually it's something right on the money. Or she kicks your ass about something when you know she's absolutely right.

She's a fucking tough ass chick & the kind of chick you want on your side.

I am going to the next freaking tiara happy hour even if I have to steal Zoe's feathered Barbie tiara.

I am missing my Cheffy. I miss kissing him & hanging out watching tv. I miss his cooking. I miss his smile and his laugh, and the way he kids around with Zkat.

The thing I miss the most are his hands. All over me.

He's busy doing what he has to do. But I wish I were there with him. I wish I could be there. It would be nice to take my child there for like a month or so. So we could get our heads on straight.

Enough. I'll get sad & I don't want to. I have work to do.

Boobies!

Full Moons??

I've been working for this firm for over three years.

Today was the first day I got some mail. Like letter/stamp slow mail.

"Dear Debu_bitch:

As you may be aware, the Department of Labor recently passed new Fairl Labor Standards Act regulations regarding criteria employers must use to determine whether an employee in an administrative capacity [aka the slaves] can be considered exempt versus non-exempt.

.... "

Basically instead of just paying me by the hour, straight time for every hour, they will now have to pay me time and a half for any hours over 40 per week.

I showed my bosses the letter, so *now* they finally decide that I shouldn't be working so hard. That I shouldn't have to do all this shit by myself. Basically, they don't want to pay over 30 bucks an hour to get their shit out the door at the last minute.

Oh well. At least they will stop stressing me out over these last minute things. Or now ... heh ... they really will have to pay for it!!

My Chef is still in Florida. (helping his mom with the ranch/hurricane damage stuff)

Debu_snot: So, you having fun playing cowboy?

Cheffy: Honey, I'm not playing cowboy. I am a cowboy. (they have like 400 cattle - cows, steers, whatever ... they are all fucking cows to me.)

Gravy. He's my gravy.

And who else could make me laugh until I snort?

I miss him, but I don't miss him. Zoe and I have been chilling so much lately. I think not having 3 people in my tiny apartment has lowered the stress level a bit. But I don't feel as grown up. Maybe because I want to go to bed at 8pm every night.

My timing is so off lately. It's the money. It's that way when my car breaks down too. It makes me physically ill when I'm having money woes. I was doing ok until my ex lost his job & I picked up the health insurance. That extra was just the buffer I needed every month not to be checking my bank balance 24/7.

Things are weird because I've been weird.

So I decided to work on the health stuff more. I've been taking my meds, monitoring my blood sugar levels and watching what goes into my mouth. Next will be getting the cardio back.

Ok, work calls.

Oh, and if you want to buy some supplements, let me know. My dad is on this kick and bought me $100 of supplements a month. They are supposed to help. My sister freaks out on them and says all they do is make you have expensive pee, but I do enough blood work (every six weeks or so) to know if they are making any kind of dent in my numbers.

Cause it's all about the fucking numbers.

boobies.