The Trivial Pursuits of Prozac

Disgusted

Mon, 18 Sep 2006 00:08:42 GMT

"DEAR ABBY: Four years ago, during my freshman year in college, I gave birth to a beautiful little boy. His father and I made the joint decision to place him for adoption. Thankfully, his adopted family keeps me involved with his life by sending me pictures and frequent updates. I have no regrets about my decision.

I am soon to be married to the most wonderful man on Earth. Recently, during our premarital counseling, the question came up concerning how we would tell our children about the son I had. After discussing this issue further, my fiance and I agreed that we would like our children to know about their half-brother from their earliest memory. Our problem is, we don't know how to tell them in a way that will not upset them, confuse them or scare them. Any suggestions? -- JESSICA IN SOUTH CAROLINA

DEAR JESSICA: I do not agree that your children should be told "from their earliest memory" that they have a half-brother who was adopted by another family. It will be easier for them to understand when they are older, and you are talking with them about the facts of life and the consequences of unprotected sex. They need to be able to engage in a dialogue with you about it at a time when they can fully comprehend your honest answers. Please consider what I have said."

Ugh. While I do not agree with, "from their earliest memory" I'm skeptic of the whole educational bit.

When I was 10 year old in the back seat of the car somewhere between Mackinac County and Chippewa County, Michigan my dad began telling me a story...

Him: "When I was a boy, I got a girl in trouble."
Me: (Who was in the process of reading Anne of Green Gables, think Anne and Gilbert and carrot sticks), "What, you pulled her hair, put wax in it?"
Him: (Hesitating) "No, More than that."
Me: "What?"
Him: "I got a girl pregnant. You have a brother."
Me: "What, I'm an only child!"

The rest is forgotten, but it was probably about here that the memories came flooding back. Memories of me being about five playing with my half-aunts (Mandy, Kandy, and Brandy, who were just 2-3 years older than myself) and having them tell me, "Your brother was here yesterday." Me: "What are you, retarded? (With names like Mandy, Kandy and Brandy, it is only to be assumed, but I assure you, they are not, it's just that their mom (my grandmother) used to drink. A lot.) I don't have a brother, I'm an only child!" Them: "Yes, your brother, he was here!" Me: Gives up, they are on crack.

I felt like the wool was pulled over my eyes. All I wanted when I was a kid was a sibling, and I had one the whole time, yet they didn't tell me. EVERYONE knew. Even my own (mom's side) cousins. They all knew about Joey. It was me that didn't.

So Joey became dirty to me. Realize, my dad was young when he had me, 21. He was 16 when Joey was born, a kid himself. Shortly after that conversation (there was a reason behind it) my brother Joey came to stay with us during his winter break. He was 16 and I'll never forget our dad letting him learn how to drive on the ice (Joey's mother was poor and didn't have a car) after he'd taken the two of us ice fishing. (Joey fished with my dad, while I used the ice that my dad had cleared as my "didn't just cost $150/hour ice" and practiced my routine).

Joey emerged as an artist in my eyes after that trip. Somehow, from somewhere, I had some clay laying round. I have never been artist, but Joey managed to make a Tiger, complete with grass and a palm shadowing him. While it long ago disappeared (I must have held onto it eight years at least) it was perfection. Still, Joey was a shame in my eyes. I had a friend and her family come to pick me up, and I did not let them in. I got in the car and said nothing about the young man in our yard. Just leave. Don't ask questions. During this visit, I also became a bit bitter. We lived in the UP of Michigan (rural) and rode snowmobiles. My dad rode one, I another. My dad gave Joey my snowmobile and bought him a $200 snowmobile suit! I was already feeling uncertain bout Joey, but I was now pissed!

Joey, mind you, was no saint. I'd already at this point, heard some whispers. "Joey was kicked out of another school." "Joey set the locker room on fire and was kicked out of another school." Of course, given that Joey was raised with my dad's mom's side, a side I barely know, it makes sense. To this day, all that side is is whispers. They thrive on gossip, but never want to deliver the entire goods.

As an example of how bad this side is, some of the rumors have included, my great-great-grandfather drank himself to death and wandered off, no one knows where he is buried. Truth: Yes, he was an alcoholic. But, he died of cancer and is buried on Drummond Island. The family was probably too poor to put up a headstone, and there was a fire on Drummond after his death that destroyed most of the burial records. Hence, yes, his son, my great-grandfather, did not know where was was buried as he was born only 2 years before his father died. Same man: "He was an island hopper and a bigamist, he had a family on every island." Truth: He was much older (20 years) than my great-great-grandmother, and had, hence been married before. His "first family" lived on St. Joseph Island, his second family on Drummond. I won't even get into the rest.

My point was, vague whispers, some of it truth, but the rest left to make up your own horrible truth/untruth. Joey was much of this.

The terrible thing? They did it again, while I don't know for sure when my brother (born just before my first meeting with Joey) found out about Joey, he surly didn't meet him (other than as an infant) until last year. My sister, however, was talking with one of our cousins, who proudly stated, "I have a half-brother."

My sister was chagrined, this sounded cool (probably much like I thought all of my twin cousins were cool and desperately wanted to be a twin, for some reason, I associated it with the word, "angel."). She wanted a half-brother and demanded one of her parents. Someone, not sure who (I was not present) matter of factly said, "You have one, Joey."

She, of course, demanded to meet him. This coincided perfectly, as Joey had just had a daughter and my sister has also demanding me to make her an aunt. I took over from there. I'm happy to say, Joey attended my wedding, wife, niece and all. We've talked regularly since. (I'm rather happy to be an aunt as well, given that otherwise with my young siblings, I'm always going to be the "old" one).

So this was rambling, but basically, don't use it as an educational lesson. While I realize that this child was given up for adoption, and cannot be a daily part of the future children's lives, don't make it dirty or secret. I still feel betrayed by my father for what he did.

Blah

Thu, 29 Jun 2006 04:30:22 GMT

I just learned tonight that sometime between June 27th and June 28th, my great-grandfather passed away. I am a peace with it now.

Over Memorial Day weekend my mother told me he was dying, and not expected to make it another day. I was a basket case. About two months prior I had been going through my family history files and found a letter he wrote me in 1996 (he was a great letter writer, he actually just wrote me a short and sweet one a week ago) telling me that he couldn't wait to see everything I'd figured out for his family tree.

I had been working on it well prior to 1996, yet had yet to send him the file. Realizing that perfectionism needs to be set aside at some point, and that been born in 1920 aren't going to live forever, I printed out the entire file that night. Only to have it sit waiting to be mailed.

Upon learning about his imminent death, I overnighted the file, feeling somewhat guilt. What if he was already dead when my grandmother received it? How would it make her feel? He wasn't, in fact, my grandfather (his son) states he thinks it rallied him. He spent countless hours reading it over and making additions. Now I am at peace.

I feel terrible for my grandmother, their 68th wedding anniversary would be next week. They are/were that sweet old couple that you look at and hope to be someday, even in your denial that you will get old. They have always been madly in love, and I don't know what will happen to her. They've been together, outside of marriage, for over 70 years. Talk about having your right arm cut off.

My mother (his granddaughter in-law) is upset, because there is talk that the funeral may not be in his hometown. He finally sold his last piece of property up there (he was a real estate broker/company owner) two years ago. While a lot of his family does not live in Florida, I could assure you the turnout in his hometown would be heavy. He was well loved by all, I'm just glad Shan got to meet him and appreciate him and his funny stories of his wild youth. Either way, he will be buried alongside his parents.

Some don't seem to take this serious. Oh, your great-grandfather, not your grandfather? While I love my grandfather in a different way, he was never much of a grandfather for me during the first 18 years of my life. Jack, my great-grandfather, was. He basically raised my father as well, taking him into his home for several years.

Procrastinator?

Sat, 10 Jun 2006 03:09:40 GMT

Once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with 6 random facts about yourself. In the end you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names.

1) I hate buying jeans. In fact, I'm down to three pairs. I have 10 pairs of capri pants (I don't mind buying them) and several pairs of dress pants, but... I just went shopping with the intent of buying jeans and spent $200 on shirts, more capris, etc, and only 1 pair of jeans that I don't even like, but they were on clearance and fit.

2) I love doing genealogy, even if it isn't my own family. Anyone out there? I love looking up records.

3) I love Crossing Jordan, the TV show. Prior to this Law and Order SVU was my favorite show. I also thinking that Jordan and Woody should be together, but at the same time am disturbed that they do hook-up, because they look like the male-female version of each other. Twins.

4) I've been doing genealogy for years, my great-grandparents got me hooked. My biggest fear was that I wouldn't trace the tree far enough before they died, I made great progress and just kept putting it off... Two months ago I realized they weren't getting any younger and printed it off. It has since sat on my counter ready to mail. Three days ago I got the call that my great-grandfather was on his deathbed. I feel like SHIT. I sent it overnight mail the next day, but like it means anything now.

5) I actually think about moving back to the UP (an extremely rural area). Not because of the community, but because of the family. I worry about having kids, we just couldn't make it down here with them.

6) My yard is filled with gardens and all of my neighbors think I like gardening. I hate it. I'm lazy. The house came with them and I'm too lazy too pull it all up. It's not that I detest gardening, but I'd have to quit my job and work full-time to keep up with all of it.

I'm supposed to tag six people....I am picking....whoever reads this and there haven't been five posts yet (once again, I'm lazy).

Where did he go wrong?

Sat, 10 Jun 2006 02:50:37 GMT

Last night Shan had a softball game that I had planned on attending, but an emergency came up and I missed it. After the game, he called me to let me know that he hadn't gotten his car to shift into gear (he'd been having problems with his shifter all week and won't believe me when I tell him that the soda the dog spilled in it might have something to do with the problem) and was just getting a ride to the bar from another team member.

"Shouldn't you try a bit harder with your car [thinking of me having to get up at 5am to drive him to work]," I asked. He insisted he had tried "for an hour" with no luck. "OK, have fun," I said.

That was at 8:45. He called at 10pm to see if I was going to come out. "No, I have to work in the morning, no drinking for me, and I'm going to be stuck driving you to work so I'm going to bed."

At 11pm he calls, "So when are you coming to get me?" Uh, what? I was sleeping. When did the topic of me picking him up from the bar ever come up? If he would have called me at 8:45 saying his car wouldn't shift, I would have been the first to help him out, but did he ask that? No, he just acted like everything was under control and he would need a ride in the morning. His friend could get him to the bar for a few drinks, but not home.

He still doesn't understand his error. Sorry hon, I've worked in mental health too long to get manipulated like that.

On a side note, all of his drunk coworkers told him last night that his transmission was shot and that is why his car wouldn't shift. I, having both driven and attempted to shift the car said, "No, your tranny is fine, it's something with your shifter (the pop)." He told me I knew nothing because MEN know what they are talking about (he isn't dumb enough to use those exact words, but...). So I told him I'd bring a co-worker by today that knew something about cars to look it over. I didn't get a chance, but I ran my theory by and he agreed with me.

Tonight I took him back to the car, helped him dismantle the center consul (to get inside the sifter) and whadyaknow? Me: RIGHT. Him and MAN friends: WRONG.

His exact words to me were, "Oh you think you know every thing about cars, everything has gone wrong for you." Me: No, I know shit about cars, but yes, almost everything that can go wrong with a car has happened to me in the TWO vehicles that I've actually owned in my lifetime, or at least to a car that I've driven (I'm a jinx). My first car was hell for the first two years. Transmission, shifter, started, alternator, fuel pump, water pump, who knows what, who knows what, never diagnosed, etc. The last three years were great though, I'd replaced everything else, so nothing could go wrong.

I know a tranny problem when I see one, I can feel it. I can tell that MY car has a tranny problem (nothing really serious, and it'll make it outlast the other problem(s). I've already had to drive several cars with tranny problems, it is a sickening feeling for a 16 year old who has to pay for it out of her own pocket. I memorized that feeling.

On the bright side, to make this less of a "Me right, him wrong" post (it is), Shan managed to fix a car on his own (with my guidance and pointers which had previously gone ignored which he finally heeded out of desperation). This is a first. He is such a manly man!

No Surprises Here

Sun, 21 May 2006 06:21:24 GMT

You Are Mountain Dew

Ultra hyper and full of energy, you're on a permanent sugar high.
Some people complain about your taste, but the do appreciate your power.

Your best soda match: Coke

Stay away from: Root Beer

What Kind of Soda Are You?

I'm a diet mountain dew junkie, though. Before discovering it, I rarely drank soda. Now I can't stand regular Mountain Dew. Still haven't been able to stomach any other diet soda.

PPAD

Sat, 06 May 2006 01:30:13 GMT

I have PPAD. Post Puppy Adoption Depression. I want my life back!

We knew what we were getting into, and Shan is a great co-puppy parent, but... It really is worse than a baby, the only bright spot is that we can put him in his crate and go grab a drink at the bar for an hour or so. Can't do that with a baby.

Otherwise, it is going great. He's getting soooo big! The only command that he responds to is, "Sit" he is able to associate it with something good. He choses to ignore "come" and his name. Of course, at this point his name is basically, "NO! NO!" and "No bite! No bite!"

I'm just so glad we equally wanted a dog and it isn't getting shoved onto one person more than the other. With Shadow, our old dog (she's literally going grey), Shan wanted a dog and I didn't. While I took her out and fed her when it came to the icky jobs I could always say, "She's not my dog..." We don't do that with Bo. We both fucked up there. What the hell were we thinking?

It's funny with labs, they have to be one of the WORST (i.e. hyper, chewing, biting) puppies out there, but once they get older they are one of the most gentle breeds out there. We'll get there some day. Only two more years to go...

Mon, 10 Apr 2006 22:06:00 GMT

You Are Sunshine

Soothing and calm
You are often held up by others as the ideal
But too much of you, and they'll get burned

You are best known for: your warmth

Your dominant state: connecting

What Type of Weather Are You?

Aww, isn't that sweet?

Shan and I made the brave decision to get a puppy last week. He is a black lab and has only been in our lives for a week and two days, but has already taken over everything. Most days I'm too exhausted to walk, without along talk. I can't remember what life was like before puppy.

We made our first venture outside of the home without puppy on Friday and had a couple of beers with some friends, one of whom said, "Why don't you guys just cut out all of the bullshit and start having kids." I quickly responded, "Because I think child protective services would have a problem if we locked our 8 week old kid in a crate for two hours so we could go have some beers at the bar." Of course, then, you never know.

Today is my first moment of respite and I'm dreading it's end. Shan took Bocephus (I did not name him, and refer to him only as "Bo") to a friend's house to socialize him and expose him to some new sights and sounds. It's almost like I have my life back.

I was thinking in 4-5 years we could start having kids, now I'm thinking 10-20 years. For every teen or young adult out there who thinks they should have a baby, they should sic a puppy on them for a week.

St. Patrick's Day 2006

Wed, 22 Mar 2006 03:02:00 GMT

You're 80% Irish

Congratulations, you're a shining example of an Irish lass (or lad).
There's hardly anyone more Irish than you!

How Irish Are You?

I'm really only about 75% Irish, but hey.

In other news, I lived to make it through St. Patrick's Day. We started out at a neighborhood pub, that opened at 7am serving Lucky Charms cereal, but I could not make it until 5:15. I had a strategic game plan for my drinking, knowing that I would be out until at least 2am....

That game plan was shot when a few late stragglers to our party came in at 11 and 12. Fortunately, I could still save face and say, "Look at the rest of the them, aren't they a bunch of drunks?"

Until 1am, when I joined them. All in all, it was a good night. Even when we moved on to the dueling Piano bar and I found out that my husband payed a player $40 in all to make Notre Dame win vs. the University of Michigan (Dueling fight songs). While I admit that his heart was in the right place, being St. Patrick's day and all - his wallet was not. He tells me he is just hard core and doesn't understand his heritage. He is 1/4 Irish - and doesn't even talk to the branch that IS Irish. Or was he trying to tell me that his heritage is secretly dumbass?

My House is Messy Because....

Tue, 31 Jan 2006 23:09:26 GMT

F'ing credit card companies keep sending me junk mail. Yesterday I received, 4 "you are pre-approved letters." Today 6! This is not to count the 1-2 that my SO receives each day. This is a normal daily occurrence, sadly. They seem to lay off on weekends a bit, and then after I have cleaned my house from top to bottom and can actually see my kitchen table again they start pouring in.

It is a conspiracy. They do not want me to have a clean house. They're probably hoping that I will start charging Molly Maid services.

The worst part is that I'm actually reading all of them, because it's time for the annual roll over of the credit cards to enjoy a nice 0% interest rate again.

I'm a Bad Person

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 04:16:19 GMT

My husband is a bastard. He knows his dad's name. Through his mother's knowledge of his family, and the wonders of ancestry.com I have a rather impressive family linage for him, some of it even includes causes of death.

BUT, I want more. I want pictures. Shan met my parents and knew what they looked like from day one, practically, as well as my grandparents. I do not know what his dad looks likes, I really don't care. But I would like him to have pictures of his grandparents, if at all possible.

Our families are a bit different:

My family:

Mom: 43
Dad: 45
Maternal Grandma: 68
Maternal Grandpa: 70
Paternal Grandpa: 67
Paternal Grandma: 63

His:

Mom: 65
Dad: 70 something
Grandma: Long dead
Grandpa: Dead since 1978

If his dad has ANYTHING, I want to know it now, as no one else in the family will realize who my SO is. Of course, Shan is PISSED about this. He doesn't want to know this side of the family, so he claims. Of course, this is the same man, that practically creams when I read him stories about his paternal great-grandmother [good on-line documentary that I was able to trace] who was 100% Irish, and part of his namesake.

Soo... I'm going to call his dad. Even if nothing else comes out of it, I want to say, "Hey, I'm your son, Shan's wife, and..." To leave him shell-shocked a bit. He tried making contact with Shan when was 18, and then fucked him over at 19. And either way, he is 70, in a family of men that only live into their 60s, he doesn't have much more time left. [I'm buying Shan a gym membership, and dragging him there, the life expentancy on ALL branches of his family scares the HELL out of me - people in my family live at LEAST into their 70s, if not 90s.]

I'm a Bad Person

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 04:16:17 GMT

Mayday!

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 03:25:56 GMT

There is something wrong with me. I've put it off long enough.

For the past eight years (excluding the fist two) I've been having periods like clockwork.

I started gaining some weight two years ago, no biggie. I was underweight, and I'm not waitressing anymore.

But it kept on coming. Then my hair started thinning. Now, for the past three months, I've been CONSCIOUS of what I'm eating (i.e. tracking calories, fat, protein), etc. On average I'm eating/drinking 1,000 - 1,500 calories a day (excluding Fridays when I binge drink - 2k calories). I'm still gaining.

DOCTOR!

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

Sat, 14 Jan 2006 06:01:59 GMT

LJ froze my account and made me chose a new password. I can almost guarantee, that not only was my password NOT common, I also used a unique combination of caps/numbers. Fuck LJ.

What the hell is up with flaky people that don't plan ahead? I'm the first to admit that I procrastinate but our old roommate, Parker, told us THREE weeks ago he was coming today. He called on Thursday (yesterday) and again confirmed he was coming. Tonight, his roommate (another old friend who was coming) called and said he thought Parker was getting off of work at 10, not 8. OK.

Shan gave them a call at 10:45 (they should be half way here by then, we live 45 minutes away). "Oh, I can't make it, I don't have any cash," says Parker. WTF? We planned our entire weekend around their stay for the past three weeks. What is so different from yesterday? If we would have known he was short on cash, we would have planned a trip to visit him, he knows this. He's just lazy. I can appreciate that in a sense, but as I said, by last night I would have coughed the truth up.

On the bright side, Shan cleaned for the occasion. My entire house is spotless. Even my guest bedroom, he even cleaned the carpets.

Companionship

Fri, 06 Jan 2006 02:11:54 GMT

I have this 50 some year old mentally ill client. For years she lived in an apartment all by herself, no TV, no radio, no phone, no books/magazines/newspaper, nothing. Just herself. She finally went completely nut-so, was petitioned into the hospital by a niece and we (ACT) came into her life.

So then she had no TV, no radio, no phone, no books/magazines/newspaper, but did have two weekly 15-30 minute visits from us.

She sits there and says things like, "Isn't that lovely?" Or, "It's grand, it is!" She's a very intelligent woman, but obviously, a bit different. We decided to buy her a clock radio, which she loved. It was sort of overwhelming for her at first, hearing the news, but she adapted.

Then she somehow got a "gentleman friend." He's 88. He bought her a TV, pays for her cable, got a phone hooked up, etc. And she was of, course, WAY over stimulated. Constant companionship, TV (still scares her, and quite delusional about it), etc.

Finally she's adapted. After having her ask to have her and her boyfriend STD checked and have to listen about their sex life (he found a "magic serum" - Vicodin) - I'm still scarred. But getting past that. I wonder what their relationship is like. He's 88 years old and deaf. She's 50 something and barely talks, she just smiles and acts like she's 80. They're happy.

Canceling Christmas

Thu, 22 Dec 2005 03:26:42 GMT

To do, or not to do.

My SO and I are struggling with money right now. Even with the wedding plans, we had wedding expenses, and some of the expected money was already spent upon our return (vet, wisdom teeth, etc). Then my car had problems and now has more problems.

His windshield wipers quit working more problems.

Because of the wedding, Shan can only get 2 extra days off, leaving us with a total of 4 days to divide between two families and 14 hours of driving.

So we canceled it. But, after I broke the news to my mom, she was devastated, as I suspected. She did it in an elegant classy way, her devastation, that is. Realize, in my family, I'm the oldest. Her other kids (9 and 13) are still babies and at home. In Shan's family, he is the baby, (siblings 38 and 41 respectively - about my parents age) and his mom is used to babies growing up.

My mom offered to pay us $200 to come up (for gas and etc), and to provide Christmas gifts to the kids. Of course she says, don't buy her or my dad anything, but we have too....

What to do? Part of me likes canceling and part of me is a big kid that wants my family now!!! And my gifts, of course, which include my wedding photos.

At Last...

Thu, 15 Dec 2005 04:00:05 GMT

We're still awaiting the photographers photos.

Laundry

Thu, 15 Dec 2005 03:35:20 GMT

For years I thought things would be different when I had an easy access washer and dryer. When I moved into an apartment complex that had them just a floor below me it was, at first... Then the child molester guy started stalking me, and there were the ladies who would come in with 15 loads of laundry, with only four available washers and dryers. Finally I fell back into my lazy ways.

Then I bought a house, washer and dryer included. Now things were really going to change! For a month they did.

But as of tonight, I'm officially caught up on laundry. I haven't put it away yet, after 2 hours of folding socks, I deserve a break. But every piece of laundry in my house is clean and folded. I feel at peace.

What I've learned this week...

Sat, 10 Dec 2005 01:18:26 GMT

1. I'm invincible. I've done every single no-no on the "Wisdom Teeth Extraction Sheet" (smoking, drinking, eating whatever) and suffered no consequences. I really wasn't going to drink, but we had a keg just sitting here left over from the wedding and invited a few people over, and then a few more, and a few more, and what the hell was I supposed to do? Keg party at my house and not drink? My stitches were removed today and Dr. K says everything looks great.

2. Warm water is a vital ingredient to warm-salt water rinses. On this note, I should include: 3. My work has two water temperatures: Cool and Cold. So put 2 and 3 together and they equal bad breath for me. My left upper extraction healed a bit funny (huge indentation, but Dr. K says that it is still swollen and will reduce in size) and I constantly have food caught in it. Even with warm water, it takes rinsing 4-6 times to get food out of the crater in my mouth.

3. I am a Chrysler car expert. I googled "cracked flex plate" and came across a decent peer support car forum. I've driven 4 Chrysler's in my life (2 were mine) and have been there, done that. I felt like a genius and I have no car know-how once so ever!

4. While leads us to four. My car may have a cracked flex plate. However, it will take me $150 to find out for sure, and this does not include the repair portion. Shit.

5. My mom is funny when she's drunk. I already knew this, but... She doesn't get drunk often and it is hilarious to listen to. She actually asked me to bring some Vicodin home with me for Christmas because she heard it was good and has never had one. Note: My mother (while liberal in politics) is a very conservative, God fearing woman.

6. Having stitches removed does not hurt. I always thought that it would and was braced for pain today.

7. Vicodin is for weekends only. It appears that I have a hit-and-miss reaction to Vicodin. Sometimes it knocks me out and sometimes it is like Cocaine in pill form. I never know what it is going to be.

I've Been Nice!

Thu, 08 Dec 2005 01:01:02 GMT

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In September akurah and I donated clothes to the needy (11 points). In June I helped casman across the street (6 points). In October I put money in stringstheory's expired parking meter (14 points). In November I gave change to a homeless guy (19 points). Last Wednesday I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points).

Overall, I've been nice (42 points). For Christmas I deserve a new bike!

Sincerely,
Prozac123

Wisdom Teeth

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 20:43:31 GMT

I had three wisdom teeth pulled yesterday. I've never been so scared in my life, even Shan was able to acknowledge that he has never seen me so shook up. Fortunately he was very patient with me and provided me with a lot of coaching as I called him 30 times throughout the day trying to come up with reasons to back out.

The biggest reason for my fear was that I had opted to do this procedure while conscious. WTF was I thinking? I was told that I would get a nice combination of gas and Novocaine, but sadly they did not come through for me on the gas, although had some available if I needed it. I almost once again bolted upon hearing that. Fortunately, it was a walk through the park. The only painful thing about the entire procedure was receiving the bottom Novocaine injection. Oh, and the Novocaine lasting just long enough for the operation leaving me high and dry on the way to the pharmacy for the painkillers. I was screaming at Shan to step on it and almost attacked the pharmacist when she told me that it would take 10 minutes to fill my script.

Since then I've been in a lovely Vicodin induced haze. It's quite wonderful. And this morning, I awoke after having not taking any sort of pain med or applying ice to my face for eleven hours and I was almost completely without pain or swelling.

My dentist rocks.

The Wedding

Fri, 02 Dec 2005 07:59:46 GMT

Our ceremony was beautiful and it flew past. We had kneeler's throughout most of it, so even we got to rest in a sense. Shan whispered to me how beautiful I looked (I did, the hairdresser managed to get my hair up) while we stood at the alter.

My bridesmaids sucked though. They were supposed to help me preserve my dress, but did one of them help me? Nope. In fact, just before the wedding and in-between pictures I became desperate for a cigarette. We tried to get the back door open, but to no avail. So my brother and my husband's nephew (both groomsman 13 and 15 respectively) carried my train out and held it while I puffed away in front of the church while guests arrived. Can you get any more White Trash than that?

The ceremony was from 3pm to 3:40pm. The priest even blessed my grandparents and had them do a quick re-take of vows for their 50th. Then onto pictures. (Don't know up to upload here). We arrived at the reception at 5pm, but most of our guests had been there since 4pm. It was beautiful. I mean, my family outdid themselves. We had silk tablecloths that my aunt drove to hell and back to get on sale, which really made for the overall affect. Combined with the cheap 4 star caterer, it really looked like we had dropped 20k on the wedding.

I was bubbly and friendly all evening (I was afraid that I wouldn't be, as sometimes I can be extremely introverted no matter what the occasion). I couldn't drink for most of it, because drinking meant having to pee, and having to pee meant taking a bridesmaid or my mother into the stall with me, having them hold up my dress, and praying that none of it fell into the toilet.

My dad's mom came. As did my dad's brother and his three sisters (my half-aunts who are only a couple of years older than I am). I had not seen any of them in over 8 years. I was so happy, as my dad's father's side couldn't make it because they all live in Florida now. The only one who wasn't there was my Uncle Jim, but he had just had all of his organ shut down 6 days before, so I understood.

My dad gets wasted and begins talking to his mom about why she can't be more like my mom's parents. I spend the rest of my evening trying to make sure he doesn't ruin it for all of us. SHE IS THERE! That is what counts! She paid for her daughter to fly in from Colorado to be there as well! For the first time since probably 1886 the ENTIRE family is together (well, except for Uncle Jim, but he said he wouldn't' come if his mother did anyways). Then my Aunt drinks too much and she starts. My Aunt had a horrific childhood, and I understand it. I understand where the pain is coming from. She just wanted a mom like mine. She had a mentally ill, emotionally detached, alcoholic mom. She kept crying, "Mama, why don't you love me?" Aunt has a twin sister and a sister that is EXACTLY one year younger (grandma arranged C-Sections that would all fall on the same day) and they all begin baiting one another. Finally they leave.

Then the cousin that molested me as a child, molested, and raped my cousin decided he wanted forgiveness. I explained that this is my wedding day, and please buzz off. He wouldn't leave. Thinking that my dad would understand, I asked him to escort him out. Apparently my dad missed the memo. I found him in the parking lot laughing, smoking, and drinking with him. I was horrified and stated it. He simply replied, "He's family Prozac!" Not understanding, and finally having a bit of alcohol under my belt at this point, I was horrified. Outraged, I told them both what I thought and made the mistake of mentioning my cousin's name. My dad, not understanding what was going on, called my cousin, in front of her rapist, to explain. Poor girl.

I found out, and still not realizing dad's ignorance was outraged. The F bomb was flying freely at the point (fortunately it was about 12:30am and every one but close family was gone) on my part. "Why the fuck does all of this have to happen on my fucking wedding day? Why can't everyone just leave it fucking be you fucking nosy bastards!" My cousin was devastated and we spent the rest of our evening bawling together in the bathroom. As my mom points out, maybe it was meant to be, and will bring this entire thing to a head in our family. My poor husband didn't know what to do, he was quite upset.

On the bright side, my family bought us a great Jacuzzi Suite at the Casino. We were too emotionally drained to really take advantage of it until the next morning though.

It's funny thoughout the entire ceremony and reception, I kept wondering what was going to go wrong. But everything was perfect. I actually wanted something little to go wrong, just to avoid something big from going wrong. Sadly, I wish I would have gotten my wish. No matter how great my cereomoney was and 98% of my recpetion, I can never forget what happened. The last part will always stand out. It would have hurt me deeply even if it was just a regular family gathering.

Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:56:16 GMT

Naturally Smart

You're a naturally smart person. Your intelligence comes to you naturally, rather than from instruction - and you are better with applied or more real-world things... which comes in handy, here in the real world.

0% applied intelligence
40% natural intelligence

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

And in other news, bridesmaids and groomsman gifts are going to break me. I waited until the last minute to purchase them, and thought I did quite well. Until the total was brought to my attention: $289 before the discount, $240 after. Then I went and purchased $70 worth of jewelry for my bridesmaids to put in the engraved jewelry boxes I had just purchased. Why I just paid this amount of money for gifts that no one will appreciate, I don't' know. Because it is expected, I suppose.

Why didn't I elope? My mom offered to pay for the plane tickets and the vacation! Oh well, after a few minor scares and miscommunication with the priest(s), all is well and I am getting married in the Catholic Church. As my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, great-great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother did. Same church, in fact. The guest list has taken a surprising hop in the past week as well. Fortunately, I don't pay for food. Everything else is complete, except for the final beer payment. Everything else is a check in the done box. And paid for.

9 days to go and this madness is behind me!

Wed, 09 Nov 2005 02:43:45 GMT

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to the First Level of Hell - Limbo!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	Moderate
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Low
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

I received my first communion last weekend. I've never been a big beliver, but I have felt "blessed" since then. They say you are supposed to feel this, but I always laughed. Am I feeling or it is just BECAUASE?

Either way, Shan and I continue to attend mass each Sunday. I've adjusted to it. I tried to bail this past Sunday, but Shan reminded me that as a Catholic husband/future to be husband, his job was to get me to heaven. If only he could be that consistent with my work-out routine!

Guilt-trips work wonders.

Either way, since my cofession and his baptism (free of all sin) we've abstained from all premarital sex. I plan on doing so until we are married. I always wanted to, religion or not, because sex just feels better after you've waited a bit, but this is killing me.

I'm Getting Married!

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 03:28:35 GMT

In three fucking weeks!

It's not that I don't want to get married, but I wish it were there months. I still have to get flowers and beer. Each time I send out a check or do mundane task this month, I think, this will be my last time doing it as s single person.

In other news, I'm having THREE wisdom teeth pulled at once on December 3rd, at the end of my lonely honeymoon (Shan can't get the time off). I chose to be conscious while they do it. Perhaps it was a mistake.

I don't think I posted it here, but our wedding song will be, "Making Memories of Us" by Keith Urban. I hate country, but it did fit and it's a beautiful song.

In other news, I had my First Communion in the Catholic church. I can now take communion, as long as I confess, because I'm a huge sinner (we are holding off until marriage at this point). For doing so, I received a rosary that belonged to my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Her daughter brought it to the US, where she came with her son.

It's a whole new world!

Mon, 17 Oct 2005 22:33:26 GMT

When I moved during the beginning of January my computer speakers quit working. After finally figuring out that it was not anything to do with my computers, but that I simply needed to buy speakers, I forgot about it and became accustomed to the world of silence.

The other day, I saw a pair of PC speakers for $5 and thought, what the hell.

I hate it. I forgot that the Internet clicks when you change websites. I have friends journals that have songs and videos. Horrible songs and videos that never bothered me before, but now they startle me. I forgot that windows makes sounds when you turn on the computer and turn it off. Instant messenger is horrible.

I almost feel like a deaf person that has gained auditory abilities. I'm not sure if I like it. It's very overstimulating. For now, I just turn mute on a lot.