Turning a Leaf

Or something like that...

It's been a long time since my last post and it isn't that I haven't thought of posting something it's that so many of my previous posts were so depressing I felt it was better not to spread the shit around. Yes, you're welcome.

Today I want to talk about boobs. You know. The big, flabby things that wobble around on the chests of most women. Until two years ago I never had boobs. Well, I had them but they were small and discreet things that minded their own business. When I was a teenager it was a bad thing. As an adult I learned to love the fact I was terrifically flat chested. I shopped in the children's department for bras until I was 40 years old. Oh yes. I stood in awesome self-righteousness when I saw a former cheerleader whose tits hung to the ground while seven or eight crotch parasites (term stolen from 'mommy wants vodka') ran around. I may have once envied those voluptuous meat bags hanging out there but NO MORE! Nope. I felt privileged at having enough mammary to feed my children but not so much as to dangle to my waist.

In the beginning when those first breast buds began to protrude my mother proclaimed that I MUST have a bra. Understand that way back in the 60's all those bras were stiff as concrete and marvelled in circular stitching so as to come to a perfect point. My sisters and I referred to them as 'pencil sharpener bras'. Honestly, I have never had a pencil so sharply pointed but that is beside the point. (Hehe... pun!) My stepsister used to get her bras a couple of cup sizes too big and I would make her totally crazy by punching a dent in her boobs when she wasn't looking. The funny part was that she never knew until for some reason she looked down. Hilarity ensued. Anyway, the aforementioned bras hurt the hell out of my ribs. It was like I was being held in a vice grip and I couldn't breathe. After a couple of days wearing a bra my ribs would start turning blue. The more I wore them the worse I hurt. So, I stopped wearing them. It wasn't a women's liberation thing. I never set fire to any of my underwear. I simply tucked the offensive underwear into the back of a drawer and tried my best to forget about them. Oh the shit I took over that! You would think I had set fire to a National Forest. I had less than AA size boobs but without a bra it seems everyone notices. Seriously, doesn't the world have something better to do?????

Years passed and when the occasion arose I wore a bra, white shirts, office Christmas parties and the like. It was all well and good until two years ago when I started to gain weight. Suddenly I have real boobs. Not the tiny things I had before but real, honest to goodness, floppy fat things wobbling around like two 'possums fucking boobs. I hate it. I have started wearing a bra when I have to go out in public because well, HELLO! I am totally irritated by my fat, floppy things laying across more fat floppy things and with this heat it's kinda nasty feeling so I've worn a bra just to keep that at bay. It's pain and bruising vs. fat sweaty stuff. Sheesh. How to choose?

I am pushing 60 years old and for the first time in my life I have boobs. What kind of fucking joke is that? I can't have boobs way back when I could have used them? Oh NOOOOO! Give them to me now when all they do is get in the fucking way. Merciful God my ass.

Life Goes On

Help me, I'm sorry but I have to be the most depressing asshat in the universe. I don't mean to be. It just happens that way sometimes. I've even put off writing because I didn't want to come off so down and out. I'm not always that way but it seems to sound that way no matter what.

Also, I have someone hanging over me all the time so when I feel like writing I can't. Honestly, do you feel comfortable with someone leaning over you even if it's reading the newspaper? Nobody reads this shit so I want to be able to pour it out. I haven't yet been able to do that.

Yes, I'm still fat. I've lost five pounds but with a stomach so large I can't bend over without losing my breath so fucking what. I'm giving it a halfway honest effort so shut your whore mouth. I've thrown away all the skinny pants. With any luck that will be what makes me lose weight.

I haven't been riding with Sunday in a year. I miss her so much it hurts. I meet her at the fence each morning after I milk the goats and feed her treats. She's pasture crazy and I'm just nuts. Maybe someday we'll meet in the middle. I miss her so much. I wonder now if I can even get my big ass into the saddle.

My brilliant and beautiful daughter was home for a visit in January. She brought her intended, Maggie home with her. I love Maggie. She is a gorgeous person and she worships my daughter. Who could ask for anything better? I have worried for years about Sarah. She's never been one to chase skirts and she's had very few serious relationships. I can tell she loves Maggie and more importantly for me, Maggie loves Sarah. They are moving in together today. I wish I could be there to help them. Since I can't be there, I love you girls! Be well and be happy.

In my boring existence, I am entering the local chili cookoff. I know... duh. But, in my defense, I make a fairly good chili. We like it anyway. I thought if for no other reason it gets me out of the house and it would be fun. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Seriously... I need to get to this more often. It helps to put things on 'paper' so to speak. It would be easier if I didn't have to wait til the middle of the night to do it!

I need a vacation. Hmmmm.... Florida or Oklahoma? Who the hell am I fooling? Until some money starts coming in and there is someone other than me to milk the goats where the hell am I going?

I want to shop for shoes. That would make me feel soooo much better!

Happy Frikkin' New Year

As much as I hate to sound like every other depressed asshole in the world, I really hate the holidays. I love Thanksgiving. Rather, I used to love Thanksgiving. My family would get together and we would cook an enormous meal that everyone ate with fantastic abandon. We haven't had a Thanksgiving dinner in a couple of years now. I don't know what happened but it makes me really sad.

Christmas on the other hand I totally despise. If I could somehow jump the calendar from Thanksgiving day to New Year's day I would. Once upon a time I had a magnificent collection of ornaments collected for my children. Due to yet another of my bad decisions the huge box of ornaments was taken from me and after that, it hardly seemed worth the effort. And yet I tried. I honestly tried. I made all new ornaments and decorated tree after tree. I smiled until I thought I would puke but I kept doing it. Finally the kids grew up and moved away. There has been only one tree in my living room since that day. It only happened because Luke and Sarah came home for Christmas at the same time. I can't tell you where any ornaments are if they exist at all.

I dread the holidays as if it were the black plague. I sit here alone every year and this year the worst thing was when on tv someone complained that sitting home alone meant nobody loves you. Yeah. Go ahead. Rub it in.

As if I don't feel bad enough about myself, I have gained another 10 pounds. I weigh more now than I ever have in my life. I am so uncomfortable. I'm paying attention to what I eat and cutting down on portions but I've never been one to eat enormous amounts of food to begin with so cutting down is rather hard. I'm beginning to wonder if I can live off a nightly spoonful of peanut butter.

I'm not looking forward to another year. Every year is worse than the one before. The highpoint of this year will be the day I get my walking cane because I can barely make it from point A to point B without something to hold onto. I can no longer raise my right arm over my head and my right hip will just barely hold me up. I have never been one to sit around doing nothing. This shit is getting the best of me and I can't seem to stop it. I'm trying to figure out how I can keep doing things because when I can't get up and go anymore, what's left?

When Life Sucks

I'm out of pain meds. It sucks when the arthritis targets everything from my earlobes to the joints in my toes.

10:30 go to bed

11:00 get up and put heating pad that Marvelous Maggie made for me into the nuker.

11:02 go back to bed and wrap heating pad around whatever it reaches that hurts.

11:30 get up and turn TV on.

11:33 put heating pad back in nuker.

11:35 tune into Letterman and wrap heating pad around me.

11:37 revel in the fact that Robert Downey Jr. is on Letterman

12:00 finally made it through Letterman's obligatory shit to RD Jr. He's wonderful.

12:15 tuned to CSI:NY on USA

It is now 1:52 a.m. and I'm finished with the bottle of wine. I hate being drunk on a normal day but I especially hate being drunk when it doesn't accomplish the target goal of getting rid of the pain.

Maybe later I will go into how much it hurt when my sister gave up on me today when we met for lunch. I won't do that again.

I want to apologize to my mom who complained of pain and who for years I wrote off as being a giant wuss... It has all come back to me with a vengeance.

For some reason my PA cut my pain meds and here I am in the middle of the night desperately wishing I could go to sleep. Lily and Laney will be here in 3 hours. I will be totally crazy in pain when they get here and will not be able to deal with them with any sort of patience. I'm sorry babies. I love you. Honestly I do.

They think I don't love them. I wish I was dead. For a thousand reasons, I wish I was dead. When you're dead the pain stops, right? Please tell me the pain stops. I don't know how much longer I can take it.

Ah, the Good 'Ol Days

It feels like forever but it's only been 18 months since Hubby lost his job. Hubby builds bridges and he's damn good at it. You would never know it from the shit he slaps together around here. Every single building/shed that acts as a feed room/stall/barn is collapsing in on itself. This place is a health hazard. Fences are falling down and if I can't figure out some way to stop the steer from flipping the water trough I'm going to shoot his ass and bury him. OK, maybe not because I like steaks and it won't be long before Beefcake will be headed for slaughter. Hell, even the supports underneath this dump of a trailer I live in are collapsing. I'm rather curious as to how this is all going to end. Good to know I have a sturdy, warm sleeping bag.

Hubby got a new job about five months ago. It pays 1/3 less than what he was making but it is more than unemployment so hallelujah on that one. He wakes me up on the four mornings a week he goes to work (Believe me it's on purpose. Gods forbid I should sleep while he is awake even though on weekends/holidays he sleeps until 11 while I'm up at 5) and comes home every evening at whatever the time the job allows. Sure, he gets up 30 minutes before me during the week and he comes home late every once in a while but when he has time off I still get up before daylight and do the same thing I do every other day of the week/month/year/decade/millenium. I am grateful I have a husband who works because around these parts that isn't a given. This county is Big #1 in meth production and has been for several years. I could be living w.i.t.h a meth junkie instead of living between them. My big bitch is I gave up my life for something that was promised but never happened. That has resulted in some bitterness. As it is, I do what I'm supposed to do every day, 24-7-365. I never get a day off. It's the same. All the time. It will make you fucking crazy. I gave up a job I loved with all my heart to make this marriage work. I kept up my end of the bargain. I'm still waiting on the other end.

Hubby worked out of town for six or seven years and it was wonderful. It is probably the reason we haven't killed each other before now. He came home on Friday night and left on Sunday night. It was a dream come true in more ways than one. You see, I have learned to like being alone. I like sitting quietly in front of the TV and crocheting my hard little heart out while a glass of wine or a cold beer sits on the table beside me. When Hubby is here he talks incessantly about everything in the universe I care absolutely nothing about. Would you want to hear all about how Hubby is the be all-end all of construction and how so and so working his first job in construction made a stupid mistake? I don't like making fun of people or using them to make me feel better about myself (unless it's the women on People of WalMart whose asses hang out of their too short shorts but that's only while I'm here by myself and never something I talk about.) I have never met the people Hubby works with and I don't want to so why would I give a shit about what they say all day? That coupled with Hubby's commentary on why he is always right and everyone else is always wrong (as well as the fact that nearly every word out of his mouth is a lie) pushes me to press the volume button on the remote and hope he gets the hint. He never does.

If I could only go into why I don't pack my few clothes, hit the road and never look back you might understand. I used to hear/read stories about women who took shit from their husbands but never left. I used to boldly announce that they must like it because they stayed with the bastards. I am not suffering physical beatings but the mental and emotional abuse can be just as painful. Hubby follows me through the house yapping like a little dog. It can make you crazy. I do what I do to keep things smoothed over and avoid being picked on or pushed around. I have no place to go and no way to get there. Even if those two problems were solved I have no way to support myself. I'm stuck here until one of us dies. At this point, I don't care which one of us goes first.

Tonight it is rainy and warm but it's the best evening I've had in months. Hubby has gone to Raleigh and won't be back until tomorrow evening. I didn't have to cook supper and I wasn't cleaning the kitchen at 10 pm. It's the best vacation I've had in 18 months (not counting San Francisco of course). I knew having Hubby around was a lot of extra work but you know how much time I had to myself tonight simply because he wasn't here??? Three hours!! Three hours to myself just by not having him around to wait on. I have so missed having time to myself.

He will be back tomorrow night and I will be washing dishes in the middle of the night because I have to work around his schedule. Believe it or not, he works a full time job and still gets three or four hours more sleep per day than I do. The best part is he gets his all in one chunk. I am lucky if I get six hours sleep in two hour sessions. After all I just chase toddlers, take care of and clean up after eleventy hundred animals, take care of the house and once all that's done, cook for and clean up after Hubby who thinks the world was put here to wait on him. Some day I might be able to go into the details of why I am here and have no choice in the matter. Until then, I am loving this one day to myself and praying that I get another one soon.

My philosophy... If there was a god, I would be dead. If there was a merciful god, he would be dead.

For now, it's quiet and I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

This and Thats

If you noticed, I've got several blogs I follow and it seems that my favorites haven't been posting much lately or if they have posted it hasn't tripped my trigger. I shouldn't say I haven't enjoyed all the posts. There have been good ones just not many of them.

Pioneer Woman has gotten so damned sugary it's hardly worth the effort but she has good recipes so if you like to eat by all means visit her blog. My long distance blog friend, Amanda who does What Not To Crochet has been on the ball lately and I love her so go there and comment on that fucking ugly turtle. If you are on Facebook, look at the pictures of her new palomino filly. My heart melts every time I see that one. My beautiful daughter (inlaw but who's counting?) Meredith hasn't done a new entry in ages. Yes, feel guilty my dear one and amuse your mother (inlaw) because she's bored shitless and requires mental stimulation. Me? I've been hanging around here changing Laney's pissy panties because she has decided she doesn't want to be potty trained until maybe the day after she isn't allowed to start school because she's too lazy to go to the bathroom. Seriously. I'm going to choke her.

Aw, shit. Not really but dammit if I don't feel like it sometimes. Sheesh.