I don't know how they expect me to live like this

Ugh.

Another payday, another two weeks without money until the next payday. I smell a vicious cycle.

Since I've decided to stop complaining and feeling sorry for myself about the OTHER thing, I've moved onto complaining about money.

I don't have any.

In fact, I have even less now than I have ever had. Add to that, I have credit card debt. It isn't an insane amount, but it's there, hanging over my head and waiting to start collecting interest. I have until August to pay it off and it just isn't going to happen. So oh well, right? It's just money.

How does this happen? How am I making all this money and yet I still have none? What sick bastard came up with this plan?

Here's the rub: The more money you make, the more money you spend. It isn't something that happens on purpose. It sneaks up on you and all of a sudden, the largest amount of money you have ever earned up until this point in your life leaves your checking account as swiftly and quietly as it enters.

I started doing my taxes today. I love tax season. I love how everyone else is moaning and groaning and in a panic and I'm patiently awaiting that last 1098 so that I can get right to it. Perhaps this is because I have never actually had to pay taxes. And I'm fairly certain that I have yet to break any laws (fingers crossed). I like getting money back, so I claim the least amount that I can. Now, I'm not naive. I know that this will get much more complicated as I get older and I will slowly become one of the moaners and groaners and develop to the point where I pay someone else to do my taxes for me. BUT...until that day, bring on the refunds, baby!! I've done the rough math and it looks like a nice chunk of change is coming my way. Shhh...don't jinx it!!!

I probably shouldn't be talking about taxes in my blog. But whatever.

The reason I have money on the brain is firstly because I've paid all of my bills and I now have about .50 to live off of until the next time I get paid. But ALSO because we had somewhat of a family meeting today and I realized that, one fine day, there could be a whole lot of money coming to me. And the best part?? No one has to die!!! Isn't that fantastic?

But it will be a while. There is little to do about it right now, except to keep enjoying the new car smell and to continue to buy the generic Q-tips.

I suppose this is good news

I have a new primary care, Dr. Z, who is very nice and very thorough. She hooked me up with a neurologist this past Tuesday who sent me for MRI's (brain and neck) yesterday. The results are in and apparently there isn't a scratch on them. While this is fan-friggin-tastic news, it still doesn't help me to explain these symptoms that I'm still experiencing.

I'll go back to the neurologist (Dr. L) next week for "next steps." Some drugs had best be Step 1.

In the land of other news:
My job is still borderline skull-crushing and my boyfriend seems to have had some sort of mini-breakdown which I feel responsible for.

Oh yeah...I'm great.

She might as well be Dr. Pepper

Hello from the land of self-pity!

But really...I'm doing a whole hell of a lot better. With the support from family, friends and my amazing boy toy, I think I'll make it.

I know I sounded like a big HUGE baby last week so I told myself to shut up and stop being so fucking lame. So what if my left arm still feels pretty funny? I can still use it (for the most part). And so what if my job still rots? It's only temporary (hopefully). And so what if I won't see my boyfriend for another month? Isn't fondness supposed to make the heart grow stronger? (What does that even mean?)

Let's embrace this new year and focus on the positive, shall we? Taking control of the things I have the power to change. And having a fantastic sense of humor...and a wonderful support system (and I'm not talking about Victoria's Secret Body Bras).

That said, tomorrow I begin the quest to change my primary care physician (PCP to those familiar with the lingo) because she 1) sucks and 2) might as well be in Guam. I've had enough with her apathy and rushed visits. She makes enough money to at least pretend she has a heart.

And no...I don't have multiple personality disorder.

Yet.

Dearest Friends

Apparently my coping mechanisms have failed me. I've gotten myself into a place where I get so worked up about who knows what that I end up in the hospital because I can't use my left arm.

It's not my heart and it's not my brain. I'm just...crazy.

I'd love to have happy and unlifting news. And when I do, you'll be the first to know.

For now, I need to work on doing a better job of being a grown up. Wish me luck.

I promise it isn't for lack of trying

I wish I could report some uplifting news. I really do. I've been sitting here, trying to squeeze it out with the best of my ability. I've closed my eyes tightly and listened to relaxing music. I'm sipping chamomile tea. I may enjoy a mug of warm milk later. I've tried to visualize a sunny beach and inviting ocean water. I've done deep breathing. I've perfected my downward dog. I know my peace animal (Boston Terrier) all too well. I've crossed several tasks off of my to do list. I've written some emails to close friends. I've called my sister. I've watched hours of wonderfully mind-numbing television.

Nothing is working.

Lola, however, honks her hello.

Happy New Year?

I think I've gotten old. Only because I couldn't even stay up until 10pm last night, let alone midnight. Added to the fact that Nick and I were going to buy booze and party like rock stars here on the 6th floor but alas, we just didn't. I think we are both so exhausted from the past couple of weeks. It's nice to do nothing. And since he doesn't mind me lazing around his apartment in my best sweats for days on end, I guess that's just fine with me, too.

I don't have much news to report. Luckily, my luggage made it to Atlanta this time. I flew Delta, which is a very nice airline. Not that they had to try very hard to impress me.

I'm at Nick's right now, waiting for him to come back from the airport with a very adorable 4 year old. I haven't left the apartment today which I think is just fine but still feels weird.

I hope he remembers to bring me back that chocolate chip ice cream.

She was a show girl, now she's a Corolla

Greetings from the world of....(hear in head sound of Rob the Announcer from The Price is Right)...A NEW CAR!

That's right, folks. I bought a brandie spankin' new car. Her name is Lola and she is a lovely shade of midnight blue.

I was rather panicked this morning. And let me tell you why.

Chariot (may she rest in peace) was really a mess. Needed about $600 or more worth of work done to her. I had to put her down. It was the best for both of us. But that left me without a car, over a long weekend. Enterprise gave me a rather pathetic excuse for a rental it seemed as if no one wanted to give me a deal. I gave up on the pipe dream of a new Honda because I knew no one would give it to me at a price I could afford (which is not very much). So, I swallowed my pride (for the millionth time this week) and Nick, bless his heart, suggested the Corolla. I made some calls this morning, found a guy who was willing to work with my numbers and, about 4 hours later, I drove away in...A NEW CAR!!

In the end, it was all so simple.

Lola now has a whole 58 miles on her and boy does she purr like a kitten.

Merry Christmas to me!!

(and to you, of course)

Just my luck

I was on my way to purchase a new car yesterday, and my car completely died.

Unfortunately, the new car deal fell through.

So, I have no car and I'm driving a Chevy Colorado that I actually have to pay for.

Fuck.

Yoga calling...she must answer

Although I would so much rather eat pretzels and watch The Simpsons, I really need to get my exercise in. I'm very stiff from all this stress. So this will be brief.

I did not get laid off today. No one did...yet. That's all I have to say.

Again, thank you all for reading and thank you for your support.

And that's not sarcasm. I swear.

I don't want to talk about it

Well, more bad news has come down the pipeline. And it's almost worse that it has happened to someone who I love dearly and not myself. The one day where nothing had gone terribly wrong did, eventually, have to come to an end.

An unfortunate course of events had led to an extremely unfortunate result: The Nickster will be home alone on Christmas...in Atlanta of all places. This is sad on many fronts although it is unnecessary for me to go into great detail.

However, in a very generous and thoughtful turn of events, my sister and brother in law (ever the martyrs) have offered to do as much as is in their power to get Nick here to Boston (kind of) for Christmas. The likelihood of this actually coming to fruition is slim to none due to lack of funds etc. But in this case, it really is the thought that counts. I am certainly lucky to have them.

In other news, I will receive an update about my current employment today. In case I forgot to mention, one of the four ladies in my office (no one is safe) is being let go at an unspecified time in the future. Apparently the forces that be have a "creative idea."

Oh goody goody.

Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

It sure as hell doesn't feel like the happiest time of the year.

My poor sister. She has been through so much this year and here she is trying to cheer me up and making sure I haven't fallen right off the deep end. Bitching to her about the medical bill and parking tickets I've received in the last two days (both of which are due to someone not doing their job) just made me feel worse instead of better. She still doesn't have all of the feeling in her leg from the dog bite and post-bite surgeries. And I'm complaining about a digital camera that I'll never get back, one I've had for over a year and still hadn't taken the initiative to really learn how to use it.

Christmas is a week from today. It's about time I get my head out of my ass, stop feeling sorry for myself and get in the fucking spirit of the season.

Now where are those god damn Christmas CD's?

And the shit storm continues

I don't mean to complain. I'm usually not one to just throw my hands up in the air and feel sorry for myself. And if I do, it isn't for too long. I get over it and then spring into action.

However, there must be someone out there with a voodoo doll having a grand old time. There are obviously certain things that are beyond my control.

What I can say is that there must be something reeeeally good coming. Really, there has to be.

Maybe someone bought me a $100,000 bill for Christmas.

Dear Massport and Logan International Airport,

Fuck you, too.

Thanks for almost killing me because you are completely incompetent and unable to clear 6 inches of snow and slush from your roadways.

Thank you also for closing the airport as I was pulling up to it after a 2 hour drive in the blizzard of the century.

And a special thank you to the police officer who abandonded his car and was a complete waste of space in helping anyone with getting their cars unstuck. And a special air kiss for the other police officer that yelled at me for trying to park in economy and threatened to issue me a ticket for disobeying his traffic direction.

Extra special thanks to Massport's parking office in Logan International Airport who have taken all of my money for a parking spot that I was forced to take.

You guys fucking rule.

Thanks...really.

Dear US Airways,

Fuck you.

Not only did you force me to gate check my bag after a harrowing (understatement of the year) day of New England weather, but then you lost my bag and then, while the bag was somewhere in the black hole that is your baggage claim system, SOMEONE went through my bag, unfolded all of my clothes, then shoved them back in haphazardly.

Oh and that someone also STOLE MY DIGITAL CAMERA AND ALL OF MY PICTURES.

Oh and yes. Heaven forbid I forget the blatant disregard for my welfare or the welfare of my belongings.

I have yet to deal with anyone within your pathetic organization who has shown a shred of remorse or apathy, nor have been formally apologized to or told exactly what happened to my camera.

But have I been patronized, eternally put on hold, or made to feel like this was all my fault? Why YES. All of the above.

Go fuck yourself. And fuck your mother.

Sincerely,
Fucking Pissed Off

I'm watching a tribute to Tom Petty, which means hell has frozen over and yes...there's the monkey flying right out of my ass

I'm sorry.

But not really.

I don't like Tom Petty. Actually, I hate Tom Petty. And I don't care if you like him. You liking him, whoever you are (and you know who you are) will never convince me to like him, so don't try. Just don't.

I'm not sure how the Billboard Music Awards is even on my television. I'm fairly sure that since I rarely change the channel from Fox, I just didn't notice when the Simpsons ended and this shit began.

Who ARE these people? And what is Gwen wearing in her hair?? I'm really sick of her trying to make a fashion statement, doing something NEW and FRESH every time she goes out in public. Enough. Just dress fuckin normal. It's not a good thing when the best dressed people at an awards show are the members of Green Day and even MARIAH looks good for fuck's sake.

There is only one explanation.

The world has fallen off of its planetary rotation.

Or not. Because Petty is still really ugly. And this is just depressing me. That that ugly son of a bitch is a bazillionare and I'm not.

Fuck.

Well, you got me. It's not Tom Petty's fault. I'm sure he's a really nice guy (even if he is really ugly) and I'm sure he deserves his award.

I'm pissed off for other reasons. I'm fat, I'm frustrated and I can't turn my head all the way to the right. And the last thing is making the first two worse, which is just leading to a vicious, self-loathing cycle.

And Nick doesn't feel good, either.

And no one bought me a pony for my birthday.

All I want for Christmas is one of those beer can hats but with egg nog instead of beer

I kicked ass at work yesterday. I went above and beyond and all that wonderful shit. Celebrate.

I can't help but feel meloncholy this time of year. I need to stop blaming it on my mother. I'm a big girl now and I don't need to keep making excuses for how much I dislike this time of year.

Then I start to look at deeper reasons. Maybe I'm just a miserable person. All I know is that I would rather get knocked out for the next month and get woken up on New Year's Eve. Because I actually enjoy New Year's. If only that I have an excuse to get drunk and make out.

But that can't be it, either.

Nick told me that he bought my birthday present yesterday and he was actually BRAGGING about how he knew what it was and I didn't. And he knows that I hate to be uninformed. He knows that I hate to be the last to know. But he also knows that I like surprises.

Apparently, that makes little sense to everyone but him. He's wonderful. And he really likes me.

The poor man. I think I felt sorry for him the instant after I told him I loved him.

I start to imagine what it will be like when I'm pregnant with my first child and then I actually start to pity him. You should too.

Black Wednesday

So my birthday is on Wednesday. 25 years young.

I've never been a fan of the day. I guess I'm really not into celebrating my own birth, especially since one of my parents (who was like, there) isn't in the picture. And the other parent (and other other parent...god, I'm making this complicated) doesn't get all that excited about it, either.

I don't remember anyone ever being excited about it. I see my sister with her kids, getting them all riled up for the big 10 or the big 5 and I actually get jealous. (I'm not proud of being jealous of a 5 year old.) I don't think I ever got that pure, selfless feeling of wanting to have a day just about ME. Or maybe I did and I don't remember. It's entirely possible. I know I was a big brat when I was little...or so I'm told.

At any rate, I dread it every year. I don't want anyone to make a big deal and I just want it to get shoved under the rug, along with that extra five pounds and the book that I can't seem to finish reading.

But before you get all "aww, that's so sad, she just needs a nice day" and shit, remember this: I say I don't want anyone to make a big deal out of it, but I actually do.

I want everyone to make a HUGE deal to make up for the non-deal it was when I was little. I want surprises and declarations of love and voices from the past and a million dollars. I want a new car and a new computer and a house and a 4 carat diamond ring and a job that I really, truly love and to lose 20 pounds and to fit into a size 10 and to have smaller feet.

This is your life...

....and 5 more years until you can REALLY be depressed about your age.

In the true spirit of procrastination, I've just spent a good chunk of time reading old blog entries while I should be making sales calls. But you know what? I'm fried, totally and completely burnt out this week. I don't have anything else left in me. So...two blog entries in one day, for old times sake.

In doing so, I'm reminded what a fucking loser my ex was, and probably still is. I haven't heard from him and I hope I never do. He never sent me the money he owed me which might piss me off but I don't care. It just doesn't matter anymore.

Despite how complicated and stressful things have gotten lately, I feel so unbelievably lucky. I'm so excited for the future.

(Insert barfing noises HERE)

Rant: I'll give you something to cry about

People just really fucking suck sometimes.

Car Accident Update:
The young woman and man who were the driver and passenger (respectively) in the car that I happened to bump into late last month have now decided that they were both injured in the scuffle. I take back anything nice I said about them before. They suck. They fucking suck. They suck monkey balls.

I shouldn't even get all worked up about it. I have plenty of coverage and I don't have to shell out any more money. Or do I?

But you know what pisses me off THE MOST? The accident really wasn't my fault. The stupid little 18 year old chippy driving slammed on her brakes and I didn't have enough time to stop. I wasn't on the phone. I wasn't tailing her. I wasn't pissed off.

But now I'm pissed off.

You know what else? I get FIVE POINTS added to my driving record, a driving record which has been spotless for the last eight years. And my car insurance sky rockets. I just got totally fucking fucked. FUCKED.

So all I can do is bend over and take it...until I move out of this fucking state.

Fuuuuck!!

You've all done very well

My level of self absorption is very high. I won't make apologies for it, but I will say that I've missed writing in the ole blog. I know you've missed it, too.

I'm terribly out of touch with any trashy celebrity news but I DO know that Kate (that's right folks, it's not "Katie" anymore) is pregnant with a gay man's spawn. I'm going to go ahead and assume that this is not his baby. Because Tom Cruise has to be either gay or asexual. Oh...and they can both take their Scientology bullshit and shove up their respective tight asses.

I've gotten several comments (I won't go so far as to call them complaints, but they are) about my lack of blog entries. Apparently this is one of few ways that some of you deem appropriate to keep up with my fast-paced, exciting life. So, I'll oblige.

Work has escalated to the point of chaos which is good and bad. Good because it keeps me busy and distracted from other, usually mind consuming issues (money and lack there of) but bad because there is little room in my head for anything else. However, a challenging, task-driven, demanding job is what I asked for and it is now what I have. I would enter the phrase "high-paying" in there, but that would be less than true. The pay is OK but of course, when you make more money, you spend more money. And there's the rub.

My car is back to being it's glorious self, except for some new (actually old but don't tell the insurance company) issues with the front end that are quite annoying although I am told not dangerous. So I won't be careening off of the highway anytime soon. I know that disappoints some of you, if only because, should I survive, it would make a kick ass story. Admittedly, it disappoints me as well.

I am ridiculously happy in love. I wish Georgia were within driving distance but we do what we can. Spending money on plane tickets was not on the agenda but I try to remind myself it is only money and doesn't love just conquer all?

(The answer is yes)