Another one bites the dust

Welp, I'm already starting to catch a few of those Sundry Memes out of the corner of my eye. Yay! No, really. Yay. I actually DO like reading those, and I promise if you post one I will BARELY skim, except for the part about your favorite new music discovery, which I will inevitably neither recognize nor care about. Sorry.

I will even hold my nose for you happier, thinner, richer motherfuckers, even if, for the past five years, you have reported EVER-GROWING levels of happiness each year, which COME ON. (PS-I've read 4 so far and SURPRISE! everyone is happier than last year)(what is my beef with happiness?)(But honestly. Are you REALLY happier than this time last year? Or just happy/content in general?)(IT'S NOT THE SAME THING).

Whoa. This was supposed to be a post IN FAVOR of that meme, politely asking you to provide a link to your version! WTF! Instead it has devolved into some kind of Sour Grapefest/Pollyanna Bitchslap! Story of my life.

Actually, I had a downright decent year. Relative, of course, to the incredibly shitty year I had in 2008, WHICH I AT LEAST ADMITTED TO.

Anyway. Live in the now. So, 2009. Wanna hear about it? HERE IT GO!


What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
Got divorced! Check that one off the Bucket List!

Did you keep your New Years Resolutions, and will you make more?
You know, there seems to be a current backlash against the resolution, which I neither understand nor support. What the hell else do we have to do this time of year? I myself plan to resolve like a motherfucker in 2010. So stay tuned for that. PS- what is the meaning behind the name "Resolve" for CARPET CLEANER? Is it the bastard lovechild of "remove" and "dissolve", and aren't those two things mutually exclusive? I guess not, in a strict matter-is-neither-created-nor-destroyed type way. Uh. TANGENT.

Blah Blah Birth, Death, Countries visited, etc. Boring.

What would you like to have in 2010 that you didn't have in 2009?
Argg. I can only think of things I DON'T want to have again in 2010 (credit card debt, dental surgery, burning rage, a mustache, hangovers, etc). Hmm. I dunno. A new vaccuum cleaner? Serenity now? Good god. This is pathetic. Ok, I know. A raise. Definitely a raise.

What dates from 2009 will be etched on your memory, and why?
Well, apparantly NONE, since I tried to remember the date of ANY of the memorable things that happened to me this year, including my fucking DIVORCE, and came up completely blank. That rigorous fish oil supplementation has really been paying dividends, eh?


What was your biggest achievement this year?
Making the best of my situation. Taking advantage of the time Ava spends with her dad. Uch, could this be any more cryptic? Basically, I was more social and had more fun. THERE.

What was your biggest failure?
Spending too much money.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
YES! Goddamn, the more questions I answer the more I wonder if this WAS such a good year after all. Jesus. Also, this question reminds me that one of my resolutions is to SUE THAT DENTIST. Happy New Year, Dentist! We'll see who is Happier and Richer next year, now won't we?

What was the best thing you bought?
My IUD. Sad but true.

Whose behavior merited celebration?
Ava's. Schmoopedy Doopity Doo, I know. Seriously, though, this was a totally whack year for her, and still she became potty-trained, started going to bed on her own, and learned the Pledge of Allegiance. Clearly she works well under pressure.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Ugg, mine, of course. Second verse, same as the first.

Where did most of your money go?
LAME. If you have any answer other than housing, food, and childcare, then it is probably "hookers and blow". Well, that or charity. Awkward.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Three reallys, huh? Easy there, meme. Let's see. Trying to think of something that warranted three reallys. And is not tv. My trip to London? My Kindle? One day Troy Aikman came to my spin class. That was cool. *crickets*. I am just not 3-reallys excitable, as it turns out.

What song will always remind you of 2009?
Whatever It Is by Zac Brown Band. It's Tosc's ringtone for me. SHUTTEE.

Compared to this time last year, are you 1)happier/sadder 2)thinner/fatter 3) richer/poorer?
Oh ho HO! I am happier, thinner, and poorer! Victory is (mostly) mine!! Except for the poorer thing. Ah well. I'll take it. Seriously, though, even if you don't do this gigantic beating of a meme, which honestly I'm about to bail on writing, so I can't imagine how YOU fuckers feel reading, please at least leave me your happier/thinner/richer answers in the comments. It's for a PROJECT, ok? Do IT! Do IT!

What do you wish you'd done more of?
Focusing at work. Clearly that's resolved itself, as I write this FROM WORK. Whatever. It's not First Monday yet. Back off. Also, writing on the blog. I missed it. (Although when I wrote daily I did it AT WORK, so what the hell have I been doing?)

What do you wish you'd done less of?
Eating and drinking. ORIGINAL.

How did you spend Christmas?
Who cares. Lame.

Did you fall in love in 2009?
ALSO who cares, but YES, if you must know. Nothing else to say here that won't be totally barfy, which I am not in the mood for. Talk about a win-win. PS-this question reminds me of the "happier" thing. You don't HAVE to say yes! Even if you currently have feelings of the love persuasion for some person, place, or thing! Love can carry over from year to year! True story!

(Nice. Mood. Tess.)

What was your favorite TV program?
Snort. PROGRAM. "Oh, Gladys, I do so love my stories!" Anyway. If by "program", meme, you mean "show", as the kids say, I have to go with True Blood. Also, Mercy is a new show I inexplicably enjoy.

Holy Hell, this is exhausting. Let's make it a two-parter, shall we? Don't forget to leave me your happier/thinner/richer answers!

Updates!

Well! That was a nice little sabbatical, wasn't it? Thanks to the 1 (ONE) person who cared enough to email a WTF and also send me the link to the NYC Firefighter calendar**, omg. FAY YOU ARE MY FAVORITE, the prize for which is...well. The same shitty post the rest of you get. Plus a spot on my elite team of concigliere! I listen to you guys! I do!

*Exhibit A-the Mirena. So far, after 6 weeks, I love it. As I mentioned in the previous post, I had it inserted during what would normally be the middle of my cycle. I stopped bleeding THAT DAY, and haven't had a period since. Um, WIN. I feel great, my watch got looser almost immediately, which probably means I'm less bloated, and my boobs haven't hurt at ALL (although they are a little smaller). As for the string, I haven't felt it at all. I mean, I haven't TRIED to feel it, and I don't PLAN to, have you lost your goddamned mind? I'm more of a set-it-and-forget-it type girl, I think that much is clear. And, uh, no one ELSE has felt it either, if you get my meaning. Erm. Moving along.

*Tosc got me a Kindle for Christmas! This is the perfect gift, because it's not something I would have ever bought for myself, but I LOVE it. Regardless, I'm pretty sure he's regretting it, because I've been ignoring him for days while I read like 4 books. Way to think that one through, babe. That's why I got HIM handpainted OSU pilsner glasses and one of those hottie plaid lumberjack shirts. I'm really only interested in giving gifts that benefit ME in some way. I mean, that's just Good Looking Out. Sucks to be you, thoughtful gift givers/nice guys.

*One of the books I read on the Kindle was SuperFreakonomics. I was...not impressed with it. As you know, I have a hobbyist-type interest in economics (DON'T WE ALL), and I really enjoyed the original Freakonomics book, and still enjoy the Freakonomics blog written by the authors. SuperFreakonomics, not so much. If you've read any OTHER bestselling economics books (Malcolm Gladwell***, etc), much of the information is not new. Also, there is a TON of stuff on global warming, which...SNORE.

***FWIW, I was also unimpressed with Outliers. Instead of a helpful tutorial on how to BECOME an outlier, the message of the book seemed to be: most outliers are lucky bastards who were in the right place at the right time, and best of luck to the rest of us. Well then. MOTIVATIONAL.

**Speaking of my unfortunate penchant for East Coast men, are you guys watching Jersey Shore on MTV? I do so love a good Guido. Oh pipe down, Guidos. Wait, do we have any Guidos reading? PLEASE GOD LET THERE BE SOME GUIDOS READING. Email me Guidos! I'll let you join the team of consigliere!****

****Spellcheck acknowledges the existence of neither "Guido" nor "consigliere". Blogger hates Italian Americans! Bad idea, Blogger. Not wise. I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you.

Nerd Alert

Hey, did you know that Thanksgiving is next week? True story! I'm pumped to be hosting Thanksgiving Dinner (to be served at halftime of the Cowboys game, natch) at my house this year! Good times, good times.

Anyway, can I interest you in the meticulous details of my preparations, such as they are?



This is my Portfolio slash Thanksgiving Dossier:

On the left I have recipes for each menu item (do you SEE the one for the Pilgrim Hat Cookies? Adorable, and 3-year-old approved). On the right, is my Menu and...SCHEDULE.

Here's my grocery list, which I realize you can't read (and who really cares anyway):

*PAUSE FOR EFFECT*

I KNOW, right? You are getting a whiff of...FUSSINESS here, aren't you? I mean, that is an Excel spreadsheet...WITH LINKS! In fact, you may be asking yourself whether I am, in actuality, a closet TYPE A FUSSYPANTS!

Um, FALSE. It seems that I am only able to muster this level of organization for things about which I care deeply, e.g. food, shopping, meal planning, and TV. (Fun fact: I got this portfolio dealie at a work function YEARS ago and have never, ever used it for anything work-related. Guess that tells you where Being an Accountant ranks on my scale of Deep Caring).

So, basically, I am an enigma wrapped in several deep-seated issues, and also quite stingy with my very limited ration of Organized Behavior.

Wait, don't go, skimmers! Yeah, this is boring. WHAT OF IT? How about if I ALSO posted my menu, how would that make you feel?

Appetizers:

Shrimp Scampi dip w/ baguette
Pickle rollups
Pilgrim Hat Cookies

Main Course:

Turkey
Mashed potatoes/gravy
Stuffing
Cranberry marshmallow salad
Roasted asparagus
Rolls

Dessert:

Apple pie bars w/ ice cream

Coffee, pop, wine, POMEGRANATE MARTINIS (omg)

What's on YOUR menu? You can totally say "early bird special at Golden Corral", BTW. You don't even want to KNOW how many times I've rocked that sitch. Such is life when your family lives thousands of miles away.

Update on the Lady Biz!

So, in keeping with my OTHER policy of impulse-purchasing medical procedures, I got an IUD inserted this morning! Whee! Excruciating detail to follow, so last chance to get off of the ride, pansies and/or men.

I decided to go with the Mirena, partially because of the comments on the last post, and partially because of the volumes of information I read online. It was a really, really tough decision. If there's one thing you learn researching birth control, it's that the experience of any one person is completely irrelevant. For every RAVE REVIEW of any one method, there is another tale of HORROR AND MISERY for the same method. So, it's a crap shoot. Pure and simple. Basically, you just have to pick a method, and hope for the best. So, that's what I did. If I may crudely/shallowly break it down for you, the main appeals of the Mirena were lighter/nonexistent periods, higher sex drive (hormonal benefit for me), and bigger boobs (I said crude/shallow! BACK OFF!). Anyway, I felt it was worth at least TRYING.

I wasn't too worried about the insertion (scheduled during my cycle, plus I've had a vaginal delivery), and I shouldn't have been: it was cake. I mean, see above re: the experience of any one person, but honestly. I've had flossing experiences more painful than that. I didn't feel anything while she measured my uterus (6 inches, thanks for asking!), and felt just a little pinch when she used the "grasper" (LADY PART PLIERS, who are we kidding) to grab...whatever it is she needed to grab. Then, the IUD was placed, which just felt like a slight cramp. Done and done. The whole works took about 10 minutes, plus another 5 for the vaginal ultrasound to ensure it was placed correctly.

So, with an entire 3 hours under my belt, I heartily recommend the Mirena! If it doesn't work for you, it's clearly some YOU DID and/or you are a freak! HA! HAHA! FUCK.

Erm. Anyway, I am happy that I had the balls to try it. I'm wicked nervous that I won't like it. As an added hand-wringer, my insurance does not cover contraception (SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP). This makes the Mirena a VERY EXPENSIVE mistake should it be an epic fail.

Ah well, the sunk cost theory applies, right? Sigh. If this doesn't work, I'm going to have to get some kind of Capital Improvements Referendum slash SEX TAX passed, I'll tell you that much.

Bawdy Tawk (or lack thereof)

Jess is showing us her body today, and talking about how to handle comments on her weight loss, which reminds me that I haven't talked much about The Policy lately! OH DEAR.

Many of you know that I (obnoxiously) try to follow A Policy on weight talk. I don't do it. I don't participate in it or encourage it from others. I don't comment on my body or the bodies of others, or on what/how much people eat. I avoid Making A Big Deal out of food, especially in front of my daughter.

So, that's all well and good (and obnoxious), but I've gotten some questions on the practical application of The Policy. And, I'm curious what YOU typically do in these situations, or what you WISH you did. Here's what I do:

Example 1: Weight Talk directed at me

If someone makes a well-meaning comment on my body size ("you're so TINY!"), or a weight change ("wow, you were really skinny in this picture!"), my tactic is to agree in a way that makes it clear that I assign no value to it as a compliment/insult. I don't say "thank you" or "ARE YOU SAYING I'M FAT NOW?", even in a joking way. I just say "you're right" or "I guess so". Same when OTHERS make comments about their own weight. I might say "huh" or "really" or "you always look great", but I won't say "you lost weight, that's awesome!" or "OMG SHUT UP YOU'RE SO SKINNY". Etc. I find that neutral agreement also has the effect of shutting down any further weight-related talk.


Example 2: Assigning food or food behaviors as "Bad" or "Good"

This drives me nuts. Major pet peeve. Especially the whole "I was bad/I was good/I splurged/I behaved" thing. NO NO NO NO NO. I never, ever say anything like this. If you do, I will not say anything, but I WILL WANT TO. Especially if you say "splurge". I HATE THAT WORD.

Anyway. Tangent. Along these lines, when I'm around my daughter I also don't categorize foods as "good for you/bad for you" or "healthy/unhealthy". If, for example, I am eating a salad, it's because "mommy loves salad" (true, incidentally). Not because salad is good for us. I don't eat candy because "mommy doesn't like candy". The most I will EVER say in terms of valuing food is that something (pop, gum, etc) is "not for kids" or will "give you a tummyache". If I have to choose between eating a certain food (say, fast food) in front of Ava or explaining why I'm NOT eating the food, I will just eat the food.

Don't get me wrong. Whenever I have the opportunity to choose what she eats ahed of time, I make what I feel is the best choice. But if she is involved or present, I always try to go with Don't Make a Big Deal. I never deny or limit any food based on nutrition. I don't praise her for eating or not eating certain things. I don't go on and on and ON about how "healthy" fruits and vegetables are. We just eat them, without comment. Etc.

This is controversial, and probably a little nutty-slash-extreme. I know. I understand why some people DO categorize food for educational purposes. And I definitely have opinions on what is healthy and not healthy, nutrition-wise. For me, though, the benefit of Not Making a Big Deal About Food outweighs the benefit of education, and even the benefit of better nutrition. You can learn the basics of good nutrition in a few days. Good attitudes toward food and giving it the proper amount of headspace (i.e. very little)...NOT SO MUCH. Therefore, I would much rather model MENTALLY healthy habits (without comment).

I ALSO fully realize that I am just one of many influences on my daughter as a female. She is fully capable of forming her raging food and body issues from TV and magazines and insentive jackasses, just like the rest of us. All I'm saying is: I'll be GODDAMNED if she's going to learn that shit from me. The End.

Settle in for some Lady Talk

So, I had my annual gynecological examination today. Sorry to just put that out there. I'm afraid I cannot be bothered to come up with a clever euphemism at the moment. The best I could think of was the annual "check under the hood", and that is so thoroughly horrifying (HOOD!) I can barely type it. (And yet).

This was my third attempt in as many weeks, and as a result I have to tell you that I am DONE seeing a GYN who is also an OB. Every appointment (at her office 20 MILES AWAY) is a fucking crap shoot! Will there or will there not be a baby from the eligible pool emerging within a 2-hour window +/- the time of my appointment? Magic 8 ball says: LIKELY.

Anyway, this brings me to my point(ish). Does anyone have experience with a copper (non-hormonal) IUD? I'm thinking of getting one...inserted (GAH). I'm kind of DONE with taking the pill. I took it for years without issue, but since I've had Ava, I just don't tolerate it well. My boobs hurt all the time, I have PMS (aka BURNING RAGE), which I never had before, and, if you must know, this summer I got that weird melasma thing that made me look like I had a fucking mustache! Um. UNACCEPTABLE. I can handle a lot of things, but an unwaxable mustache is where I draw the line.

I tried a very low-dose pill when I was breastfeeding, and I felt even WORSE on that. Like first-trimester-of-pregnancy worse. Which was nice.

I would prefer to be on NOTHING, honestly. However. That is not going to work.

So. The non-hormonal IUD! Or perhaps someone is aware of some type of voodoo curse? Rhythm method? (HAHAHAHA!) Fervent prayer? Wow, I sure am thrilled with all of the wonderful and non-invasive birth control options available to me in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Nine! Uch.

Why it's pretty much impossible to please me

Things are going well with Tosc, thanks for asking. In related news, HE IS DRIVING ME NUTS!

Well. It's not HIM, necessarily. In fact, it's mostly me. I haven't yet fully adjusted to our "lifestyle" blah blah *insert what an emotionally healthy person would say here* aka HE IS DRIVING ME NUTS! Allow me to regale you with my Irrational Beefs:

He's turning me into a booze-swilling couch potato! Yeah, yeah, I know, you bastards all thought that was, like, my dream job, AND IT IS, but this is a serious issue, man. Let's take the couch potato part. When I was married to that other guy, who shall remain nameless (OH WAIT)(heh), it was easy for me to be fit. I mean, it wasn't EASY, but we definitely made sure it happened. We prioritized it. It was one of the main things we did together. He pushed me, and never gave me an excuse to duck out. Tosc is sort of...THE ANTI-THAT. Although he will exercise with me, he's not really into it, it is WICKED EASY to talk him out of it, and he sometimes flat-out refuses to do a workout we had planned to do. Which is his right, obviously, but still. NOT HELPFUL.

And the eating/booze-swilling! Listen, I am a champion eater/booze-swiller. I have no room to talk in this area. And, one thing I really LOVE about dating Tosc is how much fun we have going out together. Carlos and I never went "out" out. If we did, it usually ended badly.* Therefore, we pretty much never went out to eat or for drinks.

HOWEVER. I feel like Tosc and I are sort of overdoing it, in that we go out to eat ALL THE TIME, and go to Happy Hours, etc. regularly too. Since we only have our kids half of the time, I think we're both working off of a kind of "vacation" mentality when we don't have them. You know, HALF OF THE TIME. The thing is, it's not a vacation when it's HALF OF THE TIME! It's more like What We Do. And, it's expensive as hell. Especially the way we roll (i.e. if coed couples eating/drinking ever makes the Olympics, we will totally clean up on endorsements). But, I don't want to stop doing it completely, and when we don't have our kids it's hard not to want to go out and do something we couldn't otherwise do, instead of, you know, sitting around stewing about how we miss our kids. Bah. So, basically, I would like to 1) have cake and 2) eat it. The end.

*When we first started dating, Tosc noticed that I always, ALWAYS took my keys no matter where we went, even though he always drove. When he asked me about it, I admitted that I'd gotten into the habit of always having them with me, because Carlos used to LEAVE ME PLACES when we would get in fights, and I didn't want to be locked out. True story.

PS-Tosc gets all crabby now when I take my keys with me (I, uh, still do it). He's all, "CHRIST! I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE YOU ANYWHERE!" and I'm all, "LEAVE ME TO MY EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!". Poor guy. I am quite the catch, and completely baggage-free, I think we can all agree on that much.

Click to Enlarge? I think?

Twins

Tosc's daughters are identical twins. I find this SO FASCINATING. Don't you? (rhetorical, you fuckers) I mean, they are basically the same person! Except, they're NOT! What the? How does it WORK?

Of course the girls look alike. But one is taller and weighs more. They have different running gaits. They have different VOICES. They definitely have different personalities.

I know that some of these things are the result of each girl's experience in utero, and their hospital stay after their birth, etc. But STILL. Isn't it COOL? A few weeks ago, Tosc and I watched this documentary on PBS on epigenetics. I was completely riveted. For those of you too LAZY slash IMPORTANT to watch an entire PBS documentary online (aka all of you), epigenetics is basically the study not of genes themselves, but how identical sets of genes turn themselves on or off in different ways.

One of the coolest visuals in the documentary showed the overlapping epigenomes of two sets of identical twins: one set was 5ish years old, the other set was 60ish. Of course, both sets of twins had identical GENES. And the 5-year-old twins had mostly identical epigenomes too (i.e. their genes were being expressed in mostly the same way). But the 60-year-old twins had WILDLY different epigenomes. I guess it's a total no-shitter that 5-year-old twins have had basically the SAME environmental experiences, whereas 60-year-old twins: not so much. By that point, it almost didn't MATTER that they had identical genes, they were being expressed so differently.

Still, Tosc and I were like, WHOA. I mean, obviously nature vs. nurture blah de blah, but his kids do EVERYTHING together, eat the same food, sleep in the same bed, attend the same class at school, and still they are so different. Even PHYSICALLY. I'd be willing to bet their epigenomes are ALREADY pretty divergent (based on my extensive scientific background, aka watching Bill Nye the Science Guy).

ANYWAY. Where in the sam hell am I going with this? I'm no scientist, OBVIOUSLY HOLY SHIT, but this is fucking cool and it blows my tiny mind. THE END.

Um. Pretty sure Tosc would NOT endorse the ass shot. Ah well. He best get used to my inadvisable internet presence and its resultant horrors.

Failure

Awesome video for those of us a little, erm, DISCOURAGED at the moment (WARNING: video contains people exercising! If this offends your delicate sensibilities you are excused!):



How about that move where he tries to get up holding the barbell in ONE HAND? Fucking awesome.

Keep on keepin on, health kickers. And foah the love of gawd, KEEP ME POSTED.

xo

Shake It Off: Lunch Photo!

I have to say this was not particularly impressive, as far as lunch effort goes. Leftover chicken leg, various cruciferous veggies, and boring-ass salad. Well, if by "salad" you mean..."lettuce with store-bought dressing approx 1 month past the expiration date". Not exactly Good Eats (this weekend I was inspired, inexplicably, to purchase a veritable TUB of greens from Costco, and now feel compelled to gnaw on some at every meal. Fucking Costco).

Star of the Week

Each week at Ava's daycare, they feature one of the kids as the "Star of the Week". The SOTW gets to hang a posterboard full of pictures and things about themself in the classroom all week. The class reads the SOTW's favorite book each day, and eats the SOTW's favorite snack, brought from home.

This week Ava is Star of the Week. Her teacher called to tell me on Friday. But, it wasn't my weekend with her, and today and tomorrow are not my days. She had to make her poster over the weekend, and bring it today, along with her favorite book and snack.

I texted Carlos on Friday, "Let me know if I can help, let me know if you need pictures".

Silence.

I know he made her a poster. He is good with that shit (it's probably covered in Red Sox crap, ARGG).

Still. Star of the Week, ya know?

Strong Feelings

I keep going back and BACK to Jonniker's post today, and reading the comments, and trying in vain to leave my own comment, and that usually means I have some type of Strong Feeling on the topic, so...here we are.

If you missed it, in the post Jonna writes about the whole Tom Brady-Gisele-whatsherface mess, and about blended families, and step parenting, etc.

My entire life has been and continues to be steeped in this issue. My parents divorced when I was very young. My mother never remarried or openly dated, which is a separate crazy-making issue and Strong Feeling for another time. My father DID remarry, twice in fact, both times to women who had children. And then I went on ahead and got divorced my OWNSELF, and I'm currently dating a man who is ALSO divorced, and ALSO has children. There now. Are we all set on BACKGROUND? Shall I post a Diseased Family Tree? Jesus. You know, as an aside, I typically consider myself a normal and well-adjusted type, until I read back paragraphs like THIS. But then again, we all THINK we are well-adjusted, just like we all think we are funny and smart and middle-class, am I right? Anyhoo. EXCUSE THE TANGENT.

Let's move on to the Strong Feelings and see what happens, shall we?

Strong Feeling: I sort of bristle when I hear anger and disgust at Gisele snuggling or showing love towards another woman's child. Don't get me wrong; I miss my daughter when I'm not with her, and feel deep sadness when I see pictures of her doing things without me. But that is MY OWN ISSUE, and a feeling I will always keep to myself as I would NEVER begrudge her genuine love or affection from ANY person, male or female. I fail to understand why some mothers are so vehemently against their children being connected to anyone else, particularly other women. Another woman (or man) loving and caring for my child does not threaten my status as her mother. In fact, I welcome and hope for the presence of a loving stepparent in her life.

Strong Feeling: It's wicked hard to blend a family with children, especially if BOTH partners bring children into the relationship. No doubt. You're dealing with different kids, different parenting styles, and often different amounts of time spent or schedules with the parents. There is just no way to make that easy, or fair.

Strong Feeling: Still, at this time, I am only really interested in relationships with men who have been divorced and have children. Sure, it's more complicated. Sure, it's more stressful. But divorce and parenthood are two experiences for which there are NO SUBSTITUTES, in terms of understanding and empathy. A childless, never-been-married guy cannot possibly understand me at this stage in my life. Furthermore, it's likely that we have little or nothing in common. A divorced man with children will always understand that your children come first, and vice versa. He will understand what it's like to deal with an ex-spouse, and the complexities of a parenting relationship with that person, and the concept of shared history versus unresolved feelings.

Strong(est) Feeling: Like Jonna, I understand my own parents so much better now--since becoming a parent, but especially since becoming a SINGLE parent. So often when I read comments on this topic, it is all "I can't IMAGINE! DESPAIR! DESPAIR! MISERY FOR EVERYONE!", and yeah, it's hard. Sort of like the rest of life, and also all of the available alternatives, if we're being honest. It's important to be real about that. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up on having a happy life--for myself, or my daughter, or any future children, "step" or otherwise. If the number of people involved in my family situation, and therefore the complexities and stresses of life, expand, that's better than knowing I never even tried.

Fun Fact Friday: Daycare Tales!

*There are two sisters at Ava's daycare named Smith and Collier. If you're into the last-name-as-first-name thing, I think that's pretty cute.

*In the lobby of the school, there is a (@#$*&) MERRY-GO-ROUND. Worst. Idea. Ever.

*Ava attends a "Stretch-and-Grow" class during the school day, and they do different exercises to music and blah de blah. Anyway, yesterday she came home singing a song with the following refrain: "Obliques! OBLIQUES OBLIQUES OBLIQUES!". I mean, really. REALLY?

*I recently learned that although I feed Ava breakfast every day, she ALSO eats breakfast at school! Ha! Well played, my friend. Well played.

*Many of the other parents work at a nearby hospital, and therefore the school used to be open 24 hours a day. They have a special "dorm" room filled with beds, showers, etc. Man. If there's anything more depressing than overnight daycare, I don't know what it is.

*I continue to be the most lazy daycare mother EVER. It's even BETTER now that I can play chicken with Carlos to get HIM to take care of stuff like emptying her "art" file. Because *I* can ignore shit like that all the livelong day, whereas I know it drives HIM around the fucking BEND. And, he can't even nag/harass me about it! WHEE!

In no particular order

Comprehensive list of Current Reasons to Live:

*Hoarders
*Homemade lasagna
*3-year-olds in football jerseys

So two thirtysomethings walk into a bar...

Still doing that just-start-writing-for-the-love-of-gawd thing. You know, FYI. In the interest of "managing expectations", as my boss says (HATE). Hey, you know what else I hate? Disclaimers about how shitty a post is going to be!

Anyway, that Toby Keith "Getcha Some" song just came up on my Rhapsody player. Listen, fuck Toby Keith, ok? I'm Done with him. First of all, Toby is a dog's name. Not strictly his fault, but that doesn't make it any less true. Second of all, Tosc and I went to his Toby Keith's I Love This Bar a few weeks ago in OKC. Just...no. It's like a Redneck Hard Rock Cafe or some shit. Although it is reportedly "Oklahoma's busiest restaurant". Well. THERE'S an accomplishment. Sarcastic slow clap for you. Oklahoma's busiest Church-slash-Bible Outlet, now there's something to write home about. Restaurant/Bar? NOT SO MUCH. They did serve calf fries though. Oh, keep your breakfasts down, meat avoiders.

On that same trip we went to another bar to drink some more 3.2 beer (what the FUCK Oklahoma?) and we were the FIRST PEOPLE TO ARRIVE when they opened the doors. At 6 pm. God DAMN we're old. And since the bar was an effing ghost town, it was about 60 degrees in there, so I got CHILLY (whatsup old lady), and Tosc had to buy me a long-sleeved THERMAL. Sexy. And THEN? The guy who sold it to us was like, "well, you know some of the girls are ripping them down the front to show more-" and I was all, "LET ME JUST STOP YOU RIGHT THERE". Jesus. We did get befriended by another older couple as we sat at the bar though (no standing for us! hard on the lower back!). I mean, they possibly slash probably were SWINGERS, but what can you do. If I was a swinger, I sure wouldn't be doing my shopping in a state that serves only 3.2 beer, I'll tell you that much. That's just poor planning.

In conclusion, I was thinking about moving some of the old Messing With Texas posts to this blog. How do I DO that? Don't EVEN say "cut and paste" either. You can just get right back in your time machine and set the dial for 1995 with that shit.

Writey Writey Write

I really feel like writing here, if we're being honest, I just can't think of any kicky topics. So, I guess I'll just do that thing where I start writing and see what happens. Good times for all.

I am experiencing some type of Anger of Unknown Origin lately. What the FUCK is that about? I'm taking guesses. You guys always have been wicked smaht when it comes to My Deal. Nothing in particular is specifically rage-inducing, at least no more than average. Some minor(ish) beefs:

*I cannot stand any of the "outdoor"-type work required to maintain my house. I do not want to mow, or weed, or sweep, or trim hedges or clean gutters, or maintain the pool, or WHATTHEFUCKEVER. I don't mind outsourcing this stuff, but I can't afford to outsource ALL of it, and I feel bad pressing Tosc into service when he has his OWN house to take care of. Plus, it's not his responsiblity anyway. It's mine. BAH. I am SO the type of single person who belongs in a high rise somewhere.

*I miss cooking. It makes no sense, financially or otherwise, to cook the types of meals I used to cook when I was married for just Ava and me. And Tosc is a picky motherfucker who grew up in a house where they ate out all of the time and is therefore accustomed to eating EXACTLY what he feels like eating, and only that, for any given meal.

*It has come to the time of year when I begin to have panicky, get-me-the-fuck-out-of-Texas moments. The WEATHER, you guys. The hateful, anti-Obama bullshit. SIGH. I'm afraid I've lost my chance to leave, though. At least anytime soon. Not the end of the world, but still: sad. (SLASH PANICKY).

*Carlos informed me a few weeks ago that he was "moving in with his fiancee". Um. Okay. I should note that I don't actually BELIEVE this, at least not the part about getting married, but this is a fun little example of his brand of bullshit. He has followed up by not speaking a single solitary word to me since. Good times. Good times.

Nice mood, Tess: health kick edition!

You: So, Tess, how's that health kick thing going?

Me: FUCK OFF! Leave me alone, but only after you bring me another beer!

Erm. So.

I cannot seem to get back into the...GROOVE or whatever on the fitness thing, you guys. I am sucking at heretofore unknown levels of suck. And I know better than to offer any Pathetic Excuses And Rationalizations (PEARS), since I don't even BELIEVE in those re: fitness! So, what is my fucking problem? Bah!

I know I have to Keep Trying! and Not Quit!, which is so cliched and lame it makes me want to DROP KICK something repeatedly, and call THAT a workout. I've left a few comments recently on how I feel like I'm in a boxing ring, being knockedthefuckOUT over and over, and having to get back up for more! THANK YOU SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER? I mean, I'm still in the ring, and I keep throwing punches, but I'm getting a little fucking loopy, you know? Uch. Perhaps what we're really dealing with here is some type of Anger Management issue. GOOSEFRABA!

Anyway, instead of doing the PEAR thing and/or BITCHING, which obviously is not doing SHIT, why don't I turn that frown upside down for once and list some things I DO find helpful! GET READY TO BE MOTIVATED PEOPLE!! (eyeroll)

Helpful(ish) thing 1: I recently heard a twist on the old "climbing a hill" analogy that really stuck with me. We may slide down the hill from time to time, or take a break and stay in place for a while, but that doesn't make the hill any steeper. As long as we are taking SOME kind of step, we will still get to the top. It's the "steeper" thing that really got me. It's the same fucking hill you've climbed before, ya know? It didn't magically morph into Everest just because you had a bad day.

Helpful(ish) thing 2: The older I get, the more I realize the dramatic effect being healthy (as I define it) has on my moods (Exhibit A: THIS FUCKING POST). In fact, Tosc can now recognize when I need to go out for an "attitude adjustment" (his code for a run). Nothing, and I mean NOTHING else works as quickly or consistently.

Helpful(ish) thing 3: My 3-year-old daughter recognizes physical activity as a normal part of daily life, and I want to encourage that. She calls all closed-toed shoes "running shoes". She understands and accepts that mommy and daddy are "at running" the same way she does when we are at work. She asks people in casual or workout clothes if they are going running (uh, actually that can be awk).

So, are we all sufficiently warmed to the cockles and ready to ROCK? Yeah, me neither.

What, you don't block the exit to your office with your workout clothes, so that you are forced to relocate them in some way (preferably TO YOUR BODY) before you leave for lunch?

Bonus unhelpful but funny(ish) story: So, I work in a fitness-y environment, right? And my workplace is spread out over several buildings which cover an entire city block. Anyway, we have this new admin who works in another building, and this morning she DROVE HER CAR over to my building to drop off an envelope. Which is her prerogative, obv, even though the walk is like 300 meters, max. Except at my workplace? Uh, NOT RECOMMENDED. At any rate, I "counseled" her that she should probably not let anyone see her do that here. Heh. Poor girl. Bet she's wishing she went to work at Frito-Lay or some shit.

Fun Fact Friday: Divorce Logistics

*We started out trying to use just one attorney to complete our divorce proceedings. Uh, FAIL.

*I spent over $5,000 in legal fees alone on my divorce. This is not all that unusual, and in fact my attorney told me her usual retainer is $10,000 (I had a good attorney).

*But, you can do it for much less. Or much more. Tosc spent about $2,500, and NotDate spent about $15,000.

*We have joint "custody", but Ava's primary address (for school and such) is wherever I live.

*The flip side is that I am restricted to living within 25 miles of the border of our city.

*Carlos can live wherever he wants, but if he leaves that same area of restriction, then *I* can also leave it without penalty.

*Since we drop off/pick up from daycare, I have never been to the apartment where Carlos lives now.

*We each keep our own stash of clothes, shoes, etc. for Ava. Since she spends equal time with each of us, it works well. The only thing that goes back and forth is her pillow and blankie, which we keep in her school bag. We try to remember to send her back to the other parent in the outfit she came in.

*We split her expenses equally as well. We take turns paying her daycare tuition, and her health insurance. We each keep separate 529 college savings plans for her.

*Carlos and I communicate mostly by text, or email. We haven't spoken on the phone or seen each other in several months.

*The number one piece of advice I would give to people who are divorcing, especially with kids, is this: don't settle for anything "just to get it over with". The desire to finalize the divorce is OVERWHELMING, but if you don't have an agreement you can live with you will be MISERABLE for YEARS.

*I realize this is BORING AS HELL, but there is practically NO anecdotal information on the specifics of joint custody on the internets. Believe me, I HAVE LOOKED. So, PSA. You're welcome.

Another one for my upcoming coffee table book

So, Alice's hilarious post today got me thinking about my own list of, uh...gentlemen callers. Er, of the bedpost notch type. You know, um...conquests (EW). *profuse sweating*

Are you getting my...DRIFT here? (you: OMG YES PLEASE STOP BEFORE I GET AN INVOLUNTARY VISUAL).

First of all, don't even act like you don't have a List, Mother Theresa! Pretty much everyone I KNOW does, even if the Number is in the "no danger of leaving anyone out" range. And this is the Bible Belt! I even have one friend who uses a fucking EXCEL SPREADSHEET (I guess an Access database is not [yet] necessary)!

And if you DON'T have a List, what are you thinking? What if you one day develop crippling dementia, and in the absence of a List are forced to conclude that you are a 75-year old virgin?

This keeps me up at night, you guys, because...I LOST MY LIST. GAH! TRUE FUCKING STORY! Literally! Like I told Alice, I sincerely hope it spontaneously combusted, because otherwise the person who found it is in for a real treat. CHRIST.

And don't even start with me on trying to recreate it, either. It wasn't exactly a high quality historical record to begin with. I think it was more like a paper bar napkin with things like "Whitey" and "Scruffy's Matt" scribbled on it in Sharpie (fun fact: Scruffy's was an incredibly disgusting bar I unfortunately [or FORTUNATELY, if you are Scruffy's Matt] frequented in college).

Bonus funny(ish) story about Scruffy's Matt: I, uh, seriously called him Scruffy's Matt. I mean, not to his face, or anything. I just sort of...never caught his last name, and after the fact, if you don't already know, that ship has sailed, AM I RIGHT?

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I got a Facebook friend request from Matt Hislastnameasitturnsout. And I was in the car with Tosc, all, "WHO THE FUCK IS MATT HISLASTNAME?" And then I immediately friended him, because that's the only way to find OUT, and I was like, "Well, I'll be damned! It's Scruffy's Matt!" And that was the end of THAT convo.

Actually, now that I think of it, maybe I could just start a FACEBOOK FRIEND LIST called "conquests"! Oh, technology. How you enrich my life.

Unpopular Opinions

*I hate facial hair on guys

*I don't have a problem with Disney Princesses, or any other commercial character

*I would rather my let my daughter eat unhealthy food than expose her to valuing foods as "good" or "bad"

*I think flowers are a waste of money

*I hate how the Texas Good Ole Boy culture encourages smart people to act dumb, so they will appear to be more "simple" or "country"

*I prefer the following items packaged as opposed to homemade: mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, and cranberry sauce

*I don't understand why so many churches place a focus on getting out of debt. Debt is not a moral or religious issue. One person's Debt is another person's Investment

*Breakfast is totally overrated as "the most important meal of the day". Pfft. Most people would do well to eat LESS often, not MORE

As if I'm some kind of...EXPERT

Here's the 20-minute treadmill workout I referenced in the Fitness Bullshit post, for those who asked. I do this about once a week, or whenever the weather is shitty, or whenever I only have 20 minutes. You get the idea. I SHOULD do it more often, or in place of some of my running workouts. But then I would have to interact with coworkers on my lunch hour. Me Time FAIL. I think you can see my dilemma.

Anyway. One problem with this workout is that I typically do it on an incline treadmill, which is a special kind of treadmill that allows a much steeper incline. Uh...HENCE THE NAME. But, you can still get a good workout on a treadmill that only inclines to 10 or 15%, especially if you are just starting out.

LESS TALKING, MORE WORKOUT-PROVIDING:

00-05: walk at min incline (5-10% for me)
05-06: walk at 15% incline
06-07: walk at max incline (20-25% for me)
07-08: walk at 15% incline
08-10: walk at 10% incline
10-11: walk at 15% incline
11-12: walk at max incline
12-13: walk at 15% incline
13-15: walk at 10% incline
15-16: walk at 15% incline
16-17: walk at max incline
17-18: walk at 15% incline
18-20: walk at min incline minus 5% (or zero)

I walk the same speed the entire workout (3.5 miles per hour for me). You could go faster or slower, but don't go so fast that you have to lean over and cling to the rails like you're about to go over Niagra Falls in a leaky barrel. Goddamn. As long as you're there, you may as well stand up straight and pump the arms, ya know?

If you do this right, you should be sucking wind by the end. You will feel it in your butt (especially if you lean back) and calves/thighs (especially if you lean forward). Your max incline should be high enough that you cannot do more than 1 minute at that level.

If your treadmill doesn't incline past 10 or 12 percent, just start at 1 or 2% and work up. It's still a good workout, especially if you go a little faster and really pump the arms, mall-walker style (TOTAL DORKFEST, I KNOW).

Hey, if YOU do any interval workouts (walking, running, biking, weights, whatevs), lay em on me, wouldya?

Fitness Bullshit

Well, we're back from the Great White North, and boy howdy could I use a little kick in the ass vis-a-vis the exercise sitch. I thought it might be fun, in a crabby, Nice Mood, Tess kind of way, to list some things I personally file under the category of Fitness Bullshit.

Disclaimer: These are thoughts that are helpful to ME, in my "fitness journey" (*RETCH*). You may mind-fuck your way into exercise from some other angle, and I'm totally cool with that. (I am RAW today! Jesus!)

BS the first: You should only do exercise you enjoy. The concept that exercise should feel good, or comfortable, or even be RIOTOUS FUN, for chrissakes, irritates me. It implies that if you DON'T feel this way, you are doing something wrong. You're not. Many douchey fitness types who LURVE a certain exercise are confusing the feeling they have after they are done with the feeling they have WHILE THEY ARE EXERCISING. You MIGHT find an exercise you find fun, and if so, rock on. Most of us find only exercise that we can tolerate with minimum bitterness, at least while we are doing it. I myself am about 50% miserable while running, and about 75% miserable while spinning, and those are my two favorite fitness activities.

BS the second: More is more. I'm a runner, and this attitude is RAMPANT amongst that crowd. I've fallen victim to it myself. I've done MARATHONS, for the love of gawd. I enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment I got, but I'll be the first to admit that the evidence is rapidly mounting against long cardio endurance efforts. And you don't have to run 5 miles, or spend 45 minutes on the elliptical, to be fit. I think walking workouts and sprint/interval workouts are wicked underrated for building fitness. I myself do a 20-minute treadmill walking workout about twice a week that kicks my ass. Of course, you DO have to work hard at some point in a workout to see results (I usually think of the 80/20 approach for easy/hard effort during a session), but you don't need an hour of cardio, and walking is FINE. GOOD, even.

BS the third: Listen to your body! I get the SPIRIT behind this, which is safety-related. If your body is telling you something is UNSAFE, it probably is, whether you are exercising at the time, or not. But the thing is, the body can be one whiny, lazy motherfucker. And unsafe is different from painful, or boring, or uncomfortable. If you're ever going to find out what you can really achieve physically, you're going to have to ignore your body and listen to your MIND most of the time (try The Nonrunners Marathon Trainer for ideas on MENTAL exercises to get through workouts). When I start to feel shitty during a workout, I like to tell my body to fuck off and repeat my mantra: "The mind is in control". When I feel like quitting early, I ask myself whether I have "left everything on the table" that day, knowing how good it feels when I DO. Or, if I need a complete mental takeover, I recite multiplication tables. True story. Whatever, it works.

BS the fourth: You need to find motivation/time to exercise! Uch. I really hate this one. If you sit around overthinking the pros and cons of working out, YOU WILL NEVER CONSISTENTLY DO IT. There is always a reason not to, and the reasons why you SHOULD sound like total Tony Robbins bullshit in the moment. Don't give it too much headspace. Either you prioritize it over another activity in your life, or you don't. Either you decided to do it, or not. You don't have to feel like it, and you don't have to be happy about it (see BS the first). Whenever I hear my inner voice say something like "I don't feel like it. I'm tired/sick/stressed/hungry.", I immediately counter with, "SO?". It reminds me that this is Just What I Do. No reason is necessary. Also, as I've spewed in comment sections far and wide, I've never finished a workout and said to myself, "I wish I hadn't done that". So, there's that.

What Fitness Bullshit would you like to debunk? No comment too crabby!

The Motherland awaits!

So, guess where Tosc and I are going tomorrow? HERE ARE SOME HINTS:

Woo hoo! Bonus: it's going to be in the 70s while we are there. SEVEN-ZERO. TWO digits. **HAPPY DANCE** SEE YA TEXAS!

Bonus hilarious Google Image Search result:

Bonus Fun Fact: Tosc's ex-wife is ALSO from Minnesota! TRUE STORY! Ha! HAHA! Man, does he have a raging Yankee Fetish, or WHAT? He should really get that looked at.

See you guys next week(ish)!

xoxo

Fun Fact Friday: Welcome to The Suck

*I had to lay off one of my employees this week. Ugg. ACK. WORST. You can imagine how comfortable I was in THAT situation.

*After going through the official "script" for this kind of thing, I ended the meeting by offering to let her punch me in the face. TRUE STORY. GOD. There really IS something wrong with me.

*She did laugh though, so I'm thinking they should totally add that to The Script.

*Honestly, though, WHO DOES THAT? What the FUCK?!

*This has been the craziest year of my career. I have the irritating type of job that gets MORE busy and stressful the slower our business gets. Hmm. This makes it sound like I'm in SALES, or some shit. Ha. HAHA. NO. It's exponentially more boring and lame.

*One of the ladies in my regular Tues/Thurs spinning class was recently diagnosed with Lou Gherig's disease.

*If I were diagnosed with an incurable disease, you would not see my ass at spinning. You would see it in a BARSTOOL, in front of a plate of CHEESE FRIES. It's amazing and awesome that she's still coming to class.

*Ava is on her way to Boston(ish) for her birthday, and I am wicked bummed. BTW, I was not offended by any of the comments or emails regarding my feelings on sharing custody. Before I had to do it, I could not imagine being away from Ava 1/2 of the time, either.

*It's amazing what we can adapt to, isn't it?

*Speaking of which, if you've emailed me about flicking, I probably haven't responded yet. I'm sorry. I am going to.

Fun Fact Friday: I still have a kid!

*Ava turns three next week. I thought two, for the most part, was an AWESOME age. With the exception of 18ish months, I have not yet met an older age I didn't like better.*I'm not going to be with her for her birthday. She's going to be with her dad, in Boston(ish). And that's all I have to say about that.

*Not to harp on the Jon and Kate thing (TOO LATE), but when Kate said she was "going to be bold and say that she will NEVER miss a birthday or holiday with her kids", I just snorted. Good luck with that.

*For now, I am happy with our custody arrangement. I have Ava on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and Carlos has her on Mondays and Tuesdays. We each have her every other weekend.

*We drop her off, and pick her up, from daycare. Therefore, we rarely see each other, and don't go to each others' homes. For example, on "my weekend", I will pick up Ava from school on Wednesday, and drop her off at school the following Monday. On "his weekend", he picks her up on Friday, and drops her off the following Wednesday. Does this make ANY sense? I can get more fussy in the comments, if there's interest.

*For the most part, we each talk to her on the phone in the evenings, if we don't have her.


*Well, that's fucking depressing, so I think I've earned some Mommyblog-esque bragging: Ava is potty-trained. She goes to the potty alone, even during the night (thanks daycare!). She eats like a mini-lumberjack (wonder where she gets THAT). She knows the days of the week, and whether mommy or daddy is picking her up ("daddy two times, then MOMMY two times!"). She calls me MOM, for fuck's sake! Hilarious. And, you should see her tan. The Waterbabies SPF 70 is no match for the Real Hispanic.

*I know it's totally, TOTALLY controversial to say this, (what is it with me, and the BALLS, lately?) but sharing custody is nowhere NEAR as bad as I thought it would be. I mean, at times, it is awful. But having every other weekend to yourself, when you know your child is with a loving parent and is well cared for? IS AWESOME. Call CPS. I do not care. It's true. Plus, I am more available and present when I DO have Ava, because I know that I can get other things done when she's not with me. So, there's that. YAY DIVORCE!

And if you're wondering whether I ate it all, then you're a TOTAL SKIMMAH

As promised, less bitching and more overpriced food! If that doesn't make the world a better place, I don't know what does.

Here is today's lunch. I had to take pictures of the salad and sushi separately, because I COULDN'T FIT IT ALL IN ONE PICTURE, OMFG. The humiliation. It is...not that bad, really. I'm pretty much done with people insinuating that I eat like some kind of LUMBERJACK. Maybe I AM a lumberjack! How the fuck do you know? Ahem.

Whenever I can't decide what I want for lunch, I like to toddle on over to Whole Foods and just See What Looks Good. This is a TERRIBLE idea. You don't even want to KNOW what this lunch cost.

Here's an Extreme Close-up of the sushi (spicy shrimp and avocado rolls). I'm trying to eat girly shit like this in the next few days, while Tosc is off in Romania providing free medical and dental care to impoverished youths (TFS!). You know, as opposed to clogging the internet with Middle Class Sob Stories. Anyway, Tosc, uh, is not a fan of sushi. Or anything that does not fall into the four basic food groups of Beer, Pizza, Burgers, and Tex-Mex. In fact, he's a wicked bad influence on me in general. I'm all, "let's go running at lunch", and he's all, "I do not accept your offer, and instead counteroffer with Five Guys".Here's the salad, with bonus cameo by my vitamins. Nothing too special here. And yes, I DID staple the sides of the takeout container for staging purposes. Now there's organic bleu cheese dressing all over my Swingline. I hope you people are happy.

So, what did YOU have for lunch today? Bonus points for pictures and revealing how much it cost.

These exercise posts never end well

You know, I've had a sticky note square in the middle of my desk for MONTHS now, upon which I've written, in huge block letters, "FITNESS BULLSHIT". True story. This is particularly hi-larious if you know where I work. Anyway, let's bring THAT inadvisable blog topic to fruition, shall we?

I know I'll get some haters here, but I have to tell you that I'm struggling with my fitness lately. I haven't exercised at a level that I would consider acceptable in three weeks. I know, I know. HOLD YOUR EYEROLLS TIL THE END PLEASE. The thing is, it has been over 15 years since I have gone that long without regular exercise and that is NO SHIT. Even when I had Ava, I ran the day before I went into labor, and was out walking a few days after.

This tooth/hospitalization/surgery thing has really fucked me in the goat ass, though. For about two weeks, I could barely open my mouth and barely swallow. I could not chew. I could not use a straw. For ONE of those weeks, I didn't eat anything, AT ALL. And, I laid in bed for about 10 days, getting up only to pee, and to pound painkillers. As a result, although I am feeling better, I'm still pretty weak physically, and I've lost a LOT of strength, and fitness.

I don't think I have the words to accurately describe how...BAD it feels. I'm frustrated. I'm pissed. I'm...SAD. I'm HAVING A MINOR(ish) FREAK-OUT over it, if you must know. Which reminds me that one reason I am so fastidious about exercise is to fend off Teh Depression slash Crazy that runs rampant and mostly unchecked in my family.

I had a slight taste of this when I was pregnant, and couldn't physically do many of the things I was used to doing. But pregnancy, FOR ME, was not an illness or disability, and I could and did exercise vigorously the entire time. I don't mind saying that I was in great shape, all things considered. I didn't lose any fitness. I SURE AS HELL didn't go weeks without eating.

I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this, other than BOO-HOOsville, and I can see that we will not even GET to the actual Fitness Bullshit, but, you know, FUCK THIS SHIT, MAN! Don't I get to play some kind of Lifetime Fitness Enthusiast Card? Complete with Get Back in Shape Free pass? I think that's what I'm REALLY pissed about. I feel like I've been putting in my time for YEARS, climbing the ladder, and in a few short weeks my body sent me, WHOOSH, right down the motherfucking chute. I mean, that can't REALLY be how it works. Right?

Jesus H. Christ, this is whiny, even for me. "When Tessie was in Egypt's laaaand. Let my Tessieeeeee GOOOOOO!".

Okay. Time for hilarious health kick comments. I have spoken.

Wait, when are we going back to pictures of my lunch?

Man, I'm on quite the rampage lately, eh? Are we all sufficiently depressed and morose? NO? Well, OUTSTANDING, because before we leave this topic for GOOD, THANK-YA JESUS, I want to talk about the flickers. I think it's clear that I know and love many people who fall into this category. They are not The Bad Guy, and the flickees are not The Good Guy, although it's easy to fall into that martyr role and use it to rationalize all kinds of behavior (JON GOSSELIN).

I make fun of myself for this all the time, but the truth is that I'm attracted to the flicker personality type, and always have been. Most flickers I know are very charismatic, and outgoing, and sarcastic, and funny. I appreciate all of those things. I'm sarcastic myself, and enjoy the back-and-forth of teasing/witty banter. As a result, I have a very high tolerance for noogies/nose tweaks, which do not feel like flicks and do not rapidly accumulate, TO ME.

Since I've never been a flicker myself, I hesitate to speak completely out of my ass on their characteristics. But I will. Heh. In this case, I want to make it clear that I'm thinking mostly of my dad and my ex-husband, the two flickers with whom I have the closest relationships.

Jovial personality, especially surface-level: Acquaintances, or people who do not know flickers well, get the impression that they are incredibly friendly, and nice. They are charismatic. But the closer you are to a flicker, the worse they treat you. They also treat you better around others than they do when you're alone. This drives me NUTS about both my dad, and my ex. When people first meet them, they cannot stop raving about what great guys they both are. This makes it hard to speak up about the flicking, because it's shocking, and makes the flickee look hyper-sensitive and ungrateful, unless the person is very close to the flicker.

Grass-is-greener mentality: Nothing is ever good enough for the flicker. They are never where they want to be in their lives. If they only had X, things would be so much better. They may be job-hoppers, or move often, or frequently join and quit activities.

Authority/Chain-of-Command issues: Flickers always Know Best. They think they are smarter than their superiors, and that they could do things better, if only they were in charge. It is Their Way, or the Highway. They may have problems at work, but only with the people above them. If they ARE in charge, they thrive. They enjoy being supervisors, and are well-liked by their employees. Their subordinates feel that the flicker goes to bat for them with higher-ups.

See themselves as merely "honest": The flicker feels that if a flick is based in truth, then it is not really a flick. The flicker is "just being honest", and anyone who cannot handle that is weak and delusional. They feel if you are their spouse/child/friend, that they should be able to "tell you anything". My ex and I went round and round about this. He felt that he should be able to say anything he liked to me, whereas I felt, and still feel, that there are some things you should NEVER say to ANYONE, EVER. I don't care how "close" or "open and honest" you are trying to be. Um, wait. Was this about me? Ooopsie.

Highly capable: Bar none, the best thing about being in a relationship with a flicker. Flickers get things done, and get what they want, because they don't stop until they do. They will take it as far as needed. They are hard workers and rarely lazy. While it often embarrassed me, I always knew my ex would get a satisfactory outcome in any customer service situation, or large purchase, or negotiation.

So. There's that. Reading this back, I realize my tone is significantly more negative in this post, but I never claimed to be unbiased. I do not understand the flicker mentality, and never will. I have NONE of these characteristics. It's also interesting to note that I am NOT willing to put up with flicking from women, or in any relationship other than a romantic one. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

In the interest of fairness, I also want to be clear that my ex-husband does not (yet) flick our daughter. He is an excellent parent, and has a completely different standard for his behavior around her. In fact, this is one of the things that made my decision to leave so clear. He is clearly capable of choosing NOT to flick, he just didn't bother to apply that to ME.

Some of you have also asked whether I think he is sorry, or will change. I know he is sorry. Up until the day before our divorce was final, he was willing to call it off. HOWEVER. While I absolutely, 100% believe that flickers can choose not to flick, I don't believe HE will ever permanently make that choice. He STILL tries to flick me, even though we are not married anymore.

I will say that, unlike him, I have never, not even for ONE SECOND, regretted my decision. One of MY worst flicks, which I am not proud of, BTW, was when I told my ex that "it would take me about TWO SECONDS to find someone who treats me better than you!".

Turns out that was true. Uh, not that truth is a defense. See above. What, you thought I was all INNOCENT and shit?

WRONG. I'm a total disaster. That's, like, the THEME of this blog. And every blog. Well, every blog that *I* want to read, anyway.

GOD BLESS THE INTERNETS, THE END.

xoxo

I ALSO hate the word "noogie," just FYI

So. The flickees. What the fuck, right? What kind of spineless, self-loathing doormat puts up with that kind of shit? First, let's just agree right at the start that I am flamingly biased, and, like most flickees, probably borderline defensive and definitely full of weak rationalizations on this topic. Not that it will stop me from ranting, obv. God bless the internets, home of unfair and unbalanced reporting. As always, I speak only for myself, and for 2 or 3 good friends who have shared their experiences. And for my mother (ALSO a flickee, at the hands of my dad)(DUN DUN DUN). So, at most, a sample size of 5 people, both women and men. Kay? Kay.

I have no idea what, if anything, it means, but here are some characteristics we all share:

Extreme relationship role models-Interestingly, either positive OR negative. I myself had basically NO (romantic) relationship role model, as I am a child of divorce, my parents divorced when I was very young, and my custodial parent never remarried or even openly dated. Others in the group had parents with flicker/flickee dynamics, OR parents with "ideal" or "soulmate"- type relationships that, in the flickee's eyes, had a low chance of ever being duplicated.

Desire to be perceived as resilient, aka Stiff Upper Lip-Lord knows I have this in spades, and so do the rest of the people in my sample. We like to think we can handle whatever life dishes out at us, without complaint. We don't want to dwell on bad things, and we don't want others to see us vulnerable, or in need of help.

Above-average levels of empathy/tolerance for others-Without exception, every one of the people I'm thinking of is the type of person you feel you can tell anything. We don't tend to judge. Nothing shocks us. We have a strong belief that there are two sides to every story, and that people are inherently good.

Varying degrees of Savior Complex-Sort of related to the above. I myself had(ve?) a raging case of this. My ex had a very rough life before he met me, and I told him repeatedly that I would never leave him, that I would be someone he could count on in his life, that I would be the one person who never fucked him over. I really meant that at the time and still feel residual guilt over this. TRUE STORY. I told you it was fucked up.

You'll notice that "super laid-back" or "meek" or "total doormat" is not listed. Over half of the people in my sample have what I would consider "assertive" personalities. You would never in a million years imagine that they would put up with flicking.

So, yeah. I don't know what any of this means. There are ALSO plenty of people who have these characteristics who DON'T end up flickees. I think the rest is just bad luck, or circumstance, or meeting the wrong person at the wrong time in your life.

I think most flickees would also agree that it sneaks up on you. The flicking isn't constant. It might be very infrequent, or happen only under stress, or it may be interspersed with more manageable noogies/nose tweaks. When my ex and I weren't fighting, we had a great time together. We had a lot in common, spent almost all of our non-work time together, and shared many common interests.

My Done Being Flicked moment was something very minor, relatively speaking. In fact, it was more of a noogie/nose tweak. I always knew I could leave with relative ease, and in fact it WAS easy to leave, compared to what most people face. I'm educated, I have a well-paying job, and I'm still young. I don't think I have low self-esteem, and I don't worry about surviving on my own, or not finding someone else, or any of that. I never did. It was never about that. The thing is, all of the flickee characteristics listed above are things I like about myself. In my mind, I was acting like the kind of person I wanted to be. Taking the high road. All of that. I hold myself responsible for getting into the situation, but I'm proud of the way I acted in my marriage, and that's Gawds Honest Truth.

And these days, I know that if I'm ever flicked by anyone again, it's only going to happen once. So HELL YEAH, I feel giddy, and "excited" and "only 31". Wouldn't you?

Fun Fact: I actually HATE the word "flick"

Thank you guys for all the amazing comments yesterday. I especially enjoyed the comments from the admitted flickers, who SO TOTALLY know who they are and you will never convince me otherwise.

I think there may be some confusion as to what I would consider a proper "flick". A forehead flick is pretty egregious, if you think about it. It comes on suddenly, and hits the flickee in a known sensitive area. It's meant to sting, and to humiliate. It's based in contempt and dominance over the flickee. I think those of you who are wondering if you might be flickers are thinking less of proper flicks and more of noogies or nose tweaks, which are...different. You know? SHALL I OVERDO THE HORSEPLAY/THREE STOOGES SHIT A LITTLE MORE? Gah.

Totally hypothetical(ish) examples:

Flick: You are a fucking idiot! I act like I think I'm smarter than you because I AM smarter than you!

Noogie: You know what, babe? You can be really dumb, for a smart person.

Flick: How many times have I shown you how to upload pictures from the camera? No, HOW MANY TIMES? I'm not showing you again until you give me an exact number!

Noogie: Seriously? Again? Have you recently suffered a minor brain injury? *SIGH*. Fine.

Do you see the difference? Not that I would know, relationship trainwreck that I am, but noogies are the stuff of everyday relationships. Maybe the tone could be better, maybe the words could be chosen differently, but it's not an out-and-out ATTACK. There's at least an ATTEMPT to soften the blow with humor, or a pet name, or whatever.

Here is something else I want to say about flicking, and even noogies/nose tweaks when it comes right down to it: flicking is a choice. It's not a personality trait, or a regional difference, or "just the way someone is". And here's another newsflash: NOT EVERYONE FLICKS. True story. I KNOW. I'm as surprised as you are.

Tomorrow: the flickees. Now THOSE fuckers have issues.

Jon and Kate! Yeah, I went there!

While I was going through the Great Dental Clusterfuck of Aught Nine, I had occasion to catch up on my shitty television. Including, OBV, Jon and Kate Plus Eight.

Most of you know that I've long been a fan of the show, for the same reason as most others, I suspect: schadenfreude. But obviously their current situation hits pretty close to home for me. I found the show and interviews with Jon and Kate to be sad, but not unwatchable, or overwhelmingly depressing.

It's probably no surprise that I relate intensely to Jon. Most blogs and news stories I've read have been critical of his demeanor, and the seemingly cavalier or even giddy reaction he's having to the situation. But I get it. I SO TOTALLY get it.

I've often compared being married to my ex-husband to being regularly flicked in the forehead, over and over, for years at a time. It's tolerable at first. A little annoying, but mostly funny. I mean, come on! It's just a forehead flick! Lighten up! Don't be so sensitive! But eventually the flicking starts to wear you down. It's not funny, or cute anymore. It's embarrassing, and humiliating, and degrading. You can't believe you're allowing yourself to be flicked regularly, but now the flicker feels entitled to it. You start to get flinchy. You're angry all of the time, thinking about the last flick, and dreading the next one. Every now and again, you start to flick back, even though flicking is not in your essential nature.

And then, one day? You're just Done Being Flicked. No more. You might roar "STOP!" or you might just quietly decide, but you know for a fact that, one way or another, you are Done Being Flicked. And when that day comes, you DO feel giddy. You're on cloud fucking nine, and you can't believe you didn't do it sooner.

While I feel sadness and sympathy for them both, by experience I can only relate to Jon. Kate is a flicker. Jon is Done Being Flicked. In her interviews, I see the same reactions that my ex-husband had: shock, numbness, hurt, confusion. What the HELL? That last flick wasn't even that BAD! Everyone flicks from time to time! You are acting like a crazy person! If only you had COMMUNICATED your lack of enthusiasm for the flicking!

Here's the thing: Most flickers know they flick. My ex-husband knows. Kate knows. You can see it in her face. She looks devastated, and he doesn't, because at this point, the flicker has not yet processed the situation the way the flickee has. The day I decided I was Done Being Flicked, I moved the weight of grieving our marriage from my shoulders, to his. I have no doubt that Jon has done his time emotionally, and I guess that's why I judge him less harshly than others seem to.

Uh, not that he isn't a raging pussy and general all-around Hot Mess, because he totally is. But who isn't. THE END.

PS-Remind me to ALSO grace you with my Deep Thoughts on that 16 and Pregnant show on MTV. OMFG.

WORST

So. You know what is basically the Anti-Awesome? A wicked toothache, followed by a brutal, wide-awake wisdom tooth extraction, followed by infection and abscess and surgery and a week-long hospital stay. Yeah. So that happened. True story.

And while my Midwestern Stiff Upper Lip requires that I keep it brief, I will summarize by saying this: FUCK THAT FUCKING SHIT SRSLYOMGWTFBBQ. You may recall that I accidentally gave birth without drugs a few years ago, and I swear to gawd that shit did not hold a CANDLE to what I've been through the last two weeks.

Bonus gifts with purchase: tube sticking out of gaping hole in my neck, inability to speak, swallow, or eat for over a week, mechanical jaw-stretching.

Also, that Impervious to Intoxicants thing reared its ugly head again, when the oral surgeon actually accused me of being a FUCKING DRUG ADDICT. Just FYI, the following drugs have literally NO EFFECT on me: Valium, Percoset, and even...MORPHINE. Jesus. Dr. Douche was all, "I've just never SEEN this in someone your SIZE!". Yeah. Well. It's a gift. God blesses us all with our own special talents, doesn't he?! Now get me some Vampire blood, or at least some fucking Advil, or get out of my face! I have no use for your "21st century medicine"!

BAH. Anyway. That's just the intense bitterness talking. Slash PTSD. Whatev.

On a serious(ish) note, I will say that it's pretty shitty and freaky having something like this happen when you're on your own without any family around, especially if you are me, aka someone who would rather re-enact that acid-to-the back scene from True Blood than ask for help. I am so, SO lucky that Tosc was there.

He was there to make me go to the emergency room, probably about 24 hours before my throat closed completely up. He took me to the back door of the ER, where he knows the code and could get me seen faster. He asked to put in and take out my IV himself, because he knew I was afraid of having it. When I needed to go to another hospital, he called his fire station to come pick me up in the ambulance. For free. He fought with the nurses in the middle of the night, when none of the pain medication had any effect on me. He sat in a too-small bed with me all day watching movies, and slept on a too-small couch in my room all night. He was there when I went into surgery, and there when I came out, and there when I threw up and had goo dripping out of my neck, and when I woke up in the middle of the night choking on my own spit because I couldn't swallow.

He's a good guy. A really, really good guy. The best kind. I do believe I love that boy.

Oh SHUT UP.

Yes, I AM passing this off as a Real Post

You know what I love? When people post pictures of their food. I do! You can blog or Twitter about what you eat each day, and I will maintain an above-average level of interest, but if you post pictures, like Sarah has been doing? I will be RIVETED. It's like I have to see for myself what your tupperware looks like and how you slice your tomatoes. Creepy.

Anyway, it's quite possible slash totally probable that I am the only one suffering from this rare disorder, but just in case I'm wrong, I present:



Today's lunch. Sonny Bryan's. Ham, brisket (covered in jalapenos), "squash medley" ("medley" term suspect since it was just...green squash. You know, as opposed to...yellow squash. Oh, whatever), salad with bleu cheese dressing.

Hey! YOU'RE WELCOME!

Fun Fact Friday: What in the sam hell have I been up to?

*Went to LONDON with real-life besties Woz and Darla. Mmm, Pimms. Kronenberg. Frittes with mayo.

*Called in sick with Tosc^. Spent eight hours sitting at a bar playing trivia and drinking Blue Moon.

*Strongly considered getting an iPhone. True story.

*Attended a fire academy graduation. Watched a video of poor bastards doing situps while being sprayed by a firehose. Reconsidered perceived intensity of own "workouts".

*Witnessed the magical power of the Firefighter Card when getting pulled over for speeding. ACES.

*Performed insane Nerd Maneuvers at work, including but not limited to writing out 130 paychecks BY HAND.

*Saw Taken. Um. Relaxing. AS A JACK-IN-THE-BOX.

*Supervised 2 2-year-olds and 2 3-year-olds at a swimming pool. Simultaneously. Significantly shortened life expectancy.

*Scored my first Mothers Day plant (a...sunflower?). Proceeded to kill it within minutes. SIGH.

*Missed you guys.

^Artist formerly known as NiceDate. This is pretty much the OPPOSITE of clever, I KNOW. SHUTTEE. I'm all rusty and shit. xoxo

Rumors of my death, etc etc.

Hey! Hi!

Well, you guys are getting quite squirrelly on me, now aren't you? AWW. I always forget that normal people, like, WORRY and stuff. For the most part, I was born without that bothersome fretting gene, and as a result I can be pretty inconsiderate. So, um, sorry about that.

Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who has commented or emailed or otherwise expressed concern that I was hanging from my shower rod or similar. Fortunately, this is less of a mental-breakdown type sitch and more of a shit-hitting-the-fan-at-work dealio. Typically, I'm tied to my desk like so much LIVESTOCK, leaving plenty of time for nefarious Internetin', but for the past several weeks, and the next several...not so much. So, that's been sucking.

And, um, when I'm NOT at work, IF YOU MUST KNOW, YOU NOSY BASTARDS, I've been spending most of my time with this guy:

Internets, meet NiceDate. NiceDate, Internets.

Just FYI, you know who makes the PERFECT firefighter's girlfriend? A NON-FRETTER, that's who! (Me: you did WHAT at work today? That's nice, baby. The real question is, who made lunch at the station and what did you have?)

Miss you guys xoxo

The Ice Queen Melteth?

Okay, first of all, if I don't get a fucking vacation day under my belt soon, someone is getting clotheslined. WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE. I am WICKED BRITTLE right now, you guys.

In which case, it's a great time to revert back to everyone's favorite topic: maneating! Practically a sport these days! Jesus. Actually, this is a desperate attempt at a little pick-me-up, since I SO ENJOY your comments/schadenfreude re: my inevitable romantic self-destruction. No, really. It's one of my Top Five Reasons For Living at the moment, right after coffee and that Tough Love show on VH1.

So, NotDate2 (aka NiceDate) is really growing on me, I gotta tell ya. Perhaps I am suffering from some type of...MATURATION PROCESS or some shit? I know. Doubtful. It's probably just a stress-induced fugue state. Anyway. I am new(ish) to this Nice Guy thing, but I want to give credit where credit is due, so check THIS:

Nice Guy Anecdote #1:

At the end of a recent night out, NiceDate and I found ourselves at our local Steak and Shake. You know how that goes. Pretty much NEVER a good idea, BUT I DIGRESS. Your future hangover disagrees.

Anyway, we were seated on opposite sides of our booth when some Shady Characters came in. You know, standard 3 am crowd. They were a couple of pretty rough-looking guys, and they sat at the table directly next to our booth, despite any number of other open tables in the place. So, in the middle of our conversation, NiceDate gets up and moves to my side of the booth, sitting on the outside between me and Shady Icky Guys. He didn't say anything, and he didn't make a scene; he just moved over, slung his arm across the booth nonchalantly, and kept on talking. Yeah, I know, SAME-SIDE-SITTERS GAH, but come on. That's pretty cool.

Nice Guy Anecdote #2:

This past Sunday night, I saw Carlos for the first time in several weeks when he came to pick up Ava. It, uh, did not go well. AT ALL. So, I texted NiceDate to commiserate (he had just dropped his daughters off with his ex), and he offered to drive the 30 miles from his house to take me out for a beer. An offer I immediately accepted, OBV, as I am apparently some kind of NEEDY, HIGH-MAINTENANCE BITCH now. Sigh. Anyway. In the middle of my pathetic Tale Of Woe, as I lamented the inevitable suckiness of my night without Ava, he suddenly looks up and says, "Hey. You wanna go to Oklahoma? We can be at my favorite college bar in 2 hours. I'll call in sick tomorrow".

Hee! Okay. Out of context, I know this sounds a little creepy. But, in actuality, that's the type of thing I find pretty awesome. We didn't end up going (although I'm definitely taking a raincheck), but the point is that he totally WOULD have.

So. Obviously I'll be kicking him to the curb shortly. I mean, this kind of shit just WILL NOT STAND.