Sunday, April 13, 2014

Belly of Fire.

In the last month or so I've been having a lot more problems with acid reflux than I have for the last two years or so.  I think it's mainly stress-induced because I've been thinking a lot about what I have to do before graduation and also about what I need to do before moving this summer.  And how much moving this summer is going to suck.

I'm pretty sure the stress is exacerbated by the fact that I often will wait until later than I should to eat, mostly because Yoshi is getting home late and I want to eat with him but sometimes also because I don't like sharing the kitchen during prime cooking times so I'll just hide in my room.

Friday night was pretty much the end of me being able to eat whatever I want whenever I want.

I didn't eat for too long and the first thing I had after a four-ish hour gap between snack and meal was some In-N-Out french fries that I stole from Yoshi's pre-work meal.  Then I had some quinoa guacamole and didn't eat for several more hours.

The rest of the night was mildly unpleasant, to say the least, and I, once again, had to sleep sitting up in bed.

Yesterday I didn't eat much; crackers, some pretzel bites, and a bean and cheese burrito from Dos Coyotes.  But of course it was the day that I had planned to go recital dress shopping in Sacrameto, so I got to look forward to that car ride for a little bit.  But I made it through with minimal trauma.

I've been scouring Pinterest for ideas on what I should do about my stomach problems for about 24 hours and I've reached the definitive conclusion that I don't get to eat anything delicious ever again.  All the reflux articles agreed on cutting out the same foods, and since I'm already working on exercising more often I think the food changes will benefit me the more than anything else I saw.

No fatty foods, especially those fried in batter and delicious oil.  Or no batter.  Apparently that's just as bad.  I guess it's a good thing I am now an expert on oven fries because I'm not sure how to live without a variety of potatoes, especially crispy slices of potato.  If I couldn't make oven fries I'd probably just lay down and die right now.

No sweets.  Especially chocolate.  No.  Chocolate.  What.  The.  Fuck.  How am I supposed to live like this?  No cake.  No cheesecake.  I don't really eat much candy, anyway.  But no chocolate.  Just kill me.  I don't need to be alive.

No coffee.  Eh.  I mean, it's delicious.  But I've been stuck drinking decaf for like five years and now I just don't let myself drink this sweet nectar of the gods because I know how my stomach is going to react already and it's not going to be well.  It's going to be painful.

No soda.  I mean...  I don't really drink soda anymore anyway.  Occasionally I have a Sprite or carbonated water, and more often than not it's because I don't know where I last left the Alka Seltzer so I'm drinking carbonated water instead for a temporary fix.  Any soda that's not clear sets me off.  Anything with caffeine sets me off.  But if it didn't hurt my tummy so much I would probably still love to have a Coke every now and then.  I used to love Coke.

No spicy food.  Seriously, just kill me.  I haven't been able to consume raw jalapeƱos since I was 20 and I hate it because they are so completely delicious.  Now I can't even eat bell peppers half the time.

This is basically just a list of everything I love to eat most.  But now am unable to consume because my stomach is failing to do it's job properly.

I actually started this blog intending to talk about how my cat got on my bed this morning with poop stuck to his leg and I had to cut it out, but then I got very caught up in how completely pissed off I am that I no longer can eat funnel cake or french fries without my stomach tossing up a middle finger of molten lava.

Just kill me now.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Cold Meds and Cat Training.

My nephew turned one last Friday and I was lucky enough to be able to make it up to spend the day with him Saturday.  Because I don't get to see him really consistently I think he forgets who I am sometimes between visits.  But then after a while he stops being shy and starts being my little buddy again.

The downside of the visit was that I spend a decent chunk of time driving and I didn't get enough sleep, so Monday I woke up with the cold that Yoshi had last week.  I am swimming in a sea of mucus.

Today was the first test in my economics class and I got to play the medicine vs. test game.  You know, the one where you have to figure out how much medicine to take in order to not have to blow your nose a bajillion times or drip snot on your test but also maintain the highest level of cognitive function possible with a cold.

It's especially bad for me because my medication tolerance is pretty nonexistent.

How nonexistent, you ask?  Well, if I take Nyquil colors are brighter for almost the entire next day.  Nyquil, Dayquil, and Sudafed all make my heartbeat super erratic.  It might be a little worse than coffee, but without the armpit sweats coffee gives me.

I took Sudafed after I was home for the night (so around 3:30) and then needed to not leave the couch or engage in any in-depth conversation for a while because words are hard and colors are pretty.

I took half a dose again like two hours ago when I woke up from a much-needed nap and I honestly don't know how I'm typing cohesive sentences right now.  But if I had to speak words that made as much sense as I think what I'm typing does, I couldn't.

I'm not that great at verbal communication anyway, but when my pupils are this dilated I just seem like a crazy stoner.

In light of my bad response to cold medication and actual cold, I realize that this week was not a good week to start training my cats to sleep through the night.  But it's too late to go back now.

The hardest part right now is not just letting them out at five in the morning when they decide they want to have a snack, poop, and then come back inside 20 minutes later.

The second hardest thing is the transition from free-feeding to regularly scheduled feedings.  I've never fed cats on a schedule; all of my cats, even when I was a kid, were free-fed.  Hunter and Sammy really don't eat that much, so the combination of those two things made me feel as though free-feeding was okay.  But in order to get them on a specific schedule I need to feed them at a specific time.  Which sucks, in a way, because sometimes I can't be home at consistently the same time every day, but in the end will be a good change.  They need a better schedule.

Because they're used to being free-fed, though, they keep trying to let me know that the bowl is empty.  I go in the kitchen.  Hunter runs in and gives me this look of blame, then looks at the food dish.

"Mom! Where's the food?  I will starve to death if I can't see that the bowl is full at all times..."

Silly kitty.

I've also begun walking them on leashes and harnesses.  We've only been out twice so far and it's still slow-going, especially with Sammy.  But there was definitely a big improvement between the first time they went out and the second, so I'm hopeful.

The looks I get from some of my neighbors are entertaining.  The women and children are entertained and think it's cute.  The middle-aged Mexican man that took his teenage daughter to buy a soda from the machine yesterday obviously thought I was nuts.

The thing is that I just can't bring myself to let my cats be indoor outdoor, especially where I live now.  But probably not ever.  After our cat got killed by a coyote when I was in fourth grade I didn't want to lose a cat like that ever again.  And statistically, cats live markedly longer, like almost three times as long, as indoor cats than they do as indoor/outdoor cats.  My cats are my babies.  I couldn't handle it if something happened to them that could have been prevented by keeping them as indoor only pets.

Also, you never know where cats go and it would gross me out to let them be in my bed without knowing where they'd been all day.

At least if I walk them they get to go outside and explore and be cats, but I know they're safer than they would be outside on their own.  Plus, they don't have to spend all day cooped up in the apartment and it makes them more tired, so they're happier and more likely to sleep through the night.

Yes, I know I'm basically a crazy old cat lady at this point.

No, I don't care.

Not even a little.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Food for Thought. And Also Some Stuff About Drugs.

Fun fact about me: I love stand up comedy.

I'm glad that Yoshi and my roommate enjoy it, as well, because I used to watch it by myself when no one else was home and I appreciate that I can share it with them now instead of holing up in my room like an addict waiting for everyone else to disappear so they can shoot up and watch some internet porn.

Actually, I don't know if that would be a normal thing for an addict to do.

Everything I know about cocaine I learned from Pulp Fiction, Scarface, and a story someone told me about Mexico once.

I saw a heroine addict once outside an Oakland A's baseball game (which I'm glad my dad also remembers and brought up last year because I was starting to think maybe that didn't happen) and he just wanted people to give him their $20 instead of buying a hot dog.  I was also pretty sure that if he touched me or coughed/sneezed in my general direction my skin would melt off, though, so I let my dad walk on that side.

Not because I was younger and figured it was better than the older member of the herd had less skin than me, but because my dad is from the bay area and also a badass, so I thought if the homeless heroine guy coughed on him my dad would Chuck Norris that shit and the air the guy breathed toward him would bounce off his skin and change into some kind of Native American knockout gas.  Or, like, regular air.

I don't think my dad knows this (which makes sense because I was always kind of a huge asshole to him), but for most of my life I was pretty sure he was some kind of magician or superhero.  Freewayman, the truck driving magician who could fix anything, make awesome food, and also made almost everything possible for his little girl.

But that's another post.

I know stuff about meth addicts and alcoholics, but that's because I grew up in Shasta County and I know what it means when someone looks a little tweaky and has no teeth.

I have a lot of guy friends, though, so I do know what someone who is hiding internet porn looks like.

Anyway, so I've been watching this Iliza Schlesinger special and it is amazing.

It's on Netflix.  If you like stand-up you should watch it.  Especially if you are a woman.

There is a section on things women do while drinking and on dates.  And one of the bits is about how women don't really eat on dates until they're actually in a relationship.  Which I know must be a thing because of how often it's referenced in popular culture, but I don't understand it because I've never done that.

Granted, I'm not the smallest person right now.  But even when I was much skinnier I don't remember going on a date with a guy and getting a salad just because I didn't want him to see me eat or because I thought he'd think I was disgusting if I actually consumed food.

I always figured that I like to eat and if a guy doesn't like it when a girl eats he should probably go to Macy's and date one of the mannequins there that looks like a prepubescent teenage boy with blue hair.

Even super skinny girls have to eat more than a stick of gum in a day and if you're willing to invite me to come to a restaurant with you where you will buy me whatever I want to eat, then I am getting more than a side salad and water.

The only reason I don't order steak is that I don't like steak.  But if you're buying my dinner and I want to eat chicken for three days I will order a whole chicken and you will pay for it.

I don't do this anymore, but it's only because with my boyfriend it's more like I'm spending "our" money so I feel bad if I order a $26 dinner.  I don't want to buy that for myself when I can make it at home for less.

Anyway, the moral of this post is that girls should eat on dates if they're not.  Hypoglycemia leads to crankiness and trying to bring up your blood sugar with the drop of cranberry juice in a cosmo could be more embarrassing/destructive than him seeing you with pepper in your teeth.

Also, if you fill up on chicken instead of liquor you won't accidentally have sloppy mistake drunk sex with your date and potentially get pregnant.

Eat on dates so you don't get pregnant, ladies.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014


I think...  My parents accept me more completely as an adult than I do myself.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Mini Update, Now With Cat Barf.

Yoshi didn't sleep last night because he was too stressed out.  He was such a delight before he left for work at noon...

Actually, he left in a bit of a huff.  He more or less stormed out (because he was frustrated with himself, not me) and I had enough time to walk to the dining room from the front door before Sammy started violently throwing up down the hallway.

Okay, well it sounded violent.  It was pretty much contained to one area.  It's not like he projectile-vomited all over the entire hallway.

I'm not positive cats even projectile vomit.

Though, if they do, I never want to see it.


It felt like Yoshi got upset, left, and then Sammy thought, "oh, Dad's upset.  Now I'm upset.  Bleghhhh."

So, yeah.

I think Yoshi is just having some really bad hormones this week.  It's been rainy and he doesn't do as well with that as he thinks he does, which is a shame because I'm generally happier when it's raining.  Today is overcast and he always feels off when it's just cloudy.

Also, I am experiencing all of the hormones from my period and that makes him pretty edgy.  Usually he gets his PMS before mine so I can kind of tell when my period will occur.  This time he started being weird at the same time I did, so that explains a lot of the issues we had during our Sonoma trip last weekend.

For the entire first day it was like we just couldn't click.  I don't like that because road trips are when we are happiest together.  I think because we hate living in Modesto so much that just getting in the car and going for a short drive makes us happy.

All in all, though, that was a pretty great trip.

Hopefully today gets better.  I'm working on a sweater for my nephew and I'm very excited about it because I've never actually made a sweater before.  Should be fine, though.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Way Hope Works.

I'm in a difficult situation.  One I've never really been in before.  

I've had a decent number of boyfriends in my life.  I'm pretty sure my parents only liked maybe two of them.  In the past I've more or less managed to avoid openly being with someone my parents hated.  All of my relationships lasted six months or less, except for two.  The shitstorm with Sterling and my current relationship.

Knowing my parents hated Sterling made me realize I could never spend my life with him, even if I forgave him for everything he put me through (which I have) and still loved him enough to want to be with him (which I don't).  

After Yoshi visited me in Redding last summer while we were having a lot of problems with our relationship (read: me being an insensitive asshole because I felt him stagnating/being dishonest with me and him being depressed as a result of pressure I was putting on him and neither of us talking about it) and they saw how unhappy I was and how dysfunctional our relationship was then, it seemed as though my parents more or less put him in the same box as Sterling.  

Now that we've solved most of our issues they seem to be the last to forgive him.  I understand because they haven't seen him once since last summer and the bullshit that occurred between August and November and they've always been protective of me.  I've obviously been kind of an idiot with men (see just about any entry from 2011/12).  It's just hard when the only relationship I've ever wanted to actually stay in for more than a year, the one I'd like to stay in for the rest of my life, is with one of the apparent multitude of men my parents hate.

At this point it feels as though every man I date is going to be someone my parents don't like.  And maybe that has to do with the kind of man they've always envisioned me being with.  I know they think I date losers and men who seek me out because of my strong personality.  I know that it's likely that they wouldn't like Yoshi even if they actually took the time to get to know him, but I wish that they would be willing to take that time.

It kills me every day to know that I have found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with and there is nothing he can do to be good enough for my parents.  And I hate that his family is so wonderful to me while mine pretty much shuns him.  I know that it hurts him, too, because he always dreamed that he would be close to his in-laws.  I dreamed that, too.  I wish we could both see our dreams come true.

I guess this is the downside to being close to your family and having respect for their opinions.  That it rips you apart when they don't approve of your choices or the one you love.

Sometimes I wonder if they are testing me.  That if I really want to be with someone I'll stick it out no matter what they seem to think about him.  I don't think that's likely, but if it is what's happening it's kind of an equally awful situation.

I'm lucky that Oose loves him so much.  She always did.  I think she always knew.  I think when you're as close to someone as we are you see when their partner actually fits as a potential lifemate.

I wish my parents could better understand the part I played in what happened last fall.  I wish they could see how happy I am now.  

Maybe one day they will.  

All I can do is hope.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Bad Repairs.

Repairs in my apartment complex start at 8:30 AM.

I am still on winter break.

Today they were apparently replacing the edging on all the windows.  

I know this because I woke up to banging noises coming from my patio.  So I laid in bed for a little while and played a game on my cell phone.  About a half an hour later they managed to make it to my bedroom window.

The head of my bed is under the window but the headboard doesn't actually touch the windowsill.  Which lead me to be a little concerned by how much the bed was moving while the workers outside were nailing the new edging onto the outer wall.

Also, I came home from spending a couple of weeks at my parents house to find this on my patio.

 photo 189cf796-5016-4647-ba2c-c2d52a37bfd8_zps6bf8d6ea.jpg

This is one of two support beams that now attaches to the cement slab on my patio from the upstairs patio.  This wouldn't be a problem, except that neither of the couches currently in my living room fit through the only other door with access to the outside of the apartment.  We got both couches, my bed, and the dining room table in through the patio.

The gate opens to the pole.  And that's it.

I don't know how we will be able to move out.  Ever.

In short, the people in charge of repairs and renovations for this complex are stupid.  They are big stupid poopy heads.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

On the New Year.

This year I'm making some things different.

I'm refusing to make any resolutions.  It's just a list of shit I wish I were doing on a regular basis or want to accomplish that I'll forget about before April.  Instead I'm basically forcing myself to be stronger than I have been in the last couple of years.  While I've been at school I've allowed myself to become soft and lazy.  Again.

The first thing I want to work on is actually having willpower.

I have wanted to lost weight and take better care of myself for a while, but I haven't.  Or I have for a few days and then I wanted pizza.  Or I just didn't eat for a few days and then went back to normal.  Not healthy.

No more snacking because I'm bored and maybe a little hungry.  No more drinking juice and tea instead of water.  Yes, water is super fucking boring to drink.  But I'm getting used to it.  My pee is clear and that's pretty cool.

It's hard to work on the other thing I'm concerned about accomplishing while I'm still on vacation, but I want to make sure I don't procrastinate like I have been.

Actually, I can't afford to this semester.  Financial aid fucked me over a little bit for my last semester as an undergrad and now there's no way I can manage to not work this semester.  Not that I haven't been working at all, but I need something where I will make enough to pay rent.  This means I'll continue doing my advertising work for my boss in Redding but I need a part time retail job or something equally shitty to help pay my bills.  Thank God I paid off my car in June.

So, treating my body better.  Getting a job and being responsible again.  Not procrastinating on homework or work.  These are my self-improvement goals not for this year but for in general.

And I would really like to get back to this blog.  I miss it.  Quite a bit.  I just haven't felt like any of my stories lately were worth telling.  Or I didn't have time and forgot them.  I want to work on not doing that anymore.

Oh, God.  The recorded show my dad was watching before he went to bed ended and the TV automatically went back to the channel he had it on before he changed it to the DVR.  TV minister is selling Miracle Spring Water.  It's like his salesman preacher voice is boring into my brain.  Like those Yeerk things in Animorphs.  I'm the only one who can change the channel.  It's in the other room.

I have to go.

P.S. 2013 sucked balls and I'm glad it's over.  2014 will be awesome.  Because I said so.