Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Ten reasons why I hate to leave my house

1. Traffic.  People DO NOT know how to drive.  Every day that I get on the road I feel like I'm in a friggin' video game.  Anyone remember that Paper Boy one?  Where the boy is riding a bike delivering papers and has to avoid all sorts of obstacles?  That's me driving.  Constantly on the defense and for good reason.

2, 3, 4 and 5.  Customer service sucks.  SERIOUSLY!  Okay, it started out fantastic at the White and Black store with the sales lady on my every need (although I think it was cause I hadn't showered and appeared impoverished) but then she kind of agreed that my dresses weren't working.  "I like the way that one looks better than the beaded one."  I never asked her preference!  That's like saying "well if you have to make one work, that one is better."  HAHA.  No harsh feelings.  I should know better than to go shopping for dresses whilst on the rag.  After that uplifting experience I decide to give Macy's a shot.  I actually found a couple of dresses I liked and couldn't decide which to go with so I purchased both figuring one would be returned.  You couldn't beat the prices!  Now, needing a tummy tucker (no one deserves to be assaulted by the deep indentation of my umbilical remnants) I head to that dreaded department and find something rather quickly.  However, when it comes time to make my purchase there's not a soul to be found.  I think I finally found someone in the mens department and THANK GOD it wasn't a man working the register cause I don't know that I could have let him ring up my body silmmer!  A woman, who was obviously doing some paperwork, tried hard not to notice me so I asked loudly (cause I'm not normally loud), "Can I purchase this here?" and she let me.  On to find shoes!  Woohoo for shoe shopping.  I stood around for about 15 minutes trying to get the attention of a sales person running around all frazzled cause the phones kept ringing.  Finally I see her stop and do nothing so I ask loudly (cause loud worked last time)  "Do you think maybe you could get me some shoes to try on? Or is there someone who can?"  She does, but then when it comes time to purchase them I have to wait, once again, until she freezes in her tracks.  Keep in mind I have a toddler with me who hates to shop more than I do and now knows how to unbuckle herself, therefore is no long restrainable and wants to run around the entire shoe department just as I'm paying for my shoes.  She's clever that way.  She waits until I'm vulnerable with my purse splayed out and credit cards or photo ID out.  She knows I will hesitate to chase after her because I don't want to abandon my belongings, much less tie up a sales person. And keep in mind it is a Monday afternoon and the place is not at all busy. So then it's on to find some accessories to dangle off a limb or two.  No problem finding the damn things but is anyone working the counter so I can pay?  FUCK!  Then I'm in the food court for lunch..okay, ya it's a "food court" but I still pay good coin..and the first guy at the counter takes my order which included a Lil' Chicken Quesadilla and he starts making it and asks "you say cheese, right?"  I was too exhausted from shopping at this point AND too hungry to correct him so I said "sure".   Then the woman wrapping up my burrito starts to fold and tuck without adding the lettuce I'd requested.  Loud loud loud I say "I asked for lettuce with that too please" and I'm sure the look on her face was disgust at herself for fogetting what extras I'd asked for, but I couldn't help feeling sour about it.  FOCUS people.  Listen!

6. Rarely do I get to shop "kid free".  I touched on this a tad above, with the stroller escaping and running away, but my little princess is very shy so ANYONE that looks at her causes us stress.  She will crawl up the back of the stroller, headed straight for my arms if you say HI or anything directed her way.  It's annoying.  I don't know why cause she's been very socialized.  When we sat down in the food court to eat she insisted on sitting on my lap.  She's done this before and I've let her and not been able to enjoy my meal so I decide to end the bullshit here and now.  After some harsh discussion and small whining I'm able to get her to kneel on the chair next to me.  I just take a bite of my now cold burrito and "whap" then "AHHHHHH" the shrill of an injured child rings through the echo dome.  Apparently she was going to sit on her buttocks and the transition caused her lips to come in contact with the table.  Just a little blood and surprisingly not much crying.  Does she ever eat?  No.  Do I continue to purchase food for her everytime I take her out to eat?  Yes.  Does she ever eat it?  No.  Who's food does she eat then?  Mine.  UGH! 

7. Buyers remorse. 

8. Knowing that the fear and hatred of that Mall will probably prevent me from returning the dress I don't wear and probably never will wear and so it'll hang in my closet forever reminding me of the shopping trip I need to take, and eventually the shopping trip that it's too late to take.

9. Ah shit, I guess I can't think of two more cause I'm still SO exhausted from that shopping trip yesterday!  It wears a person out!  It's like jet lag.  So I guess that's number nine.  Exhaustion.

10.  Having to try my hardest NOT to throw away receipts.  I'm a really bad receipt storer/archiver person so even if I did want to return something and actually pumped myself up enough to go back that effin' place I probably wouldn't be able to return it!  Maybe that's why I lose them?  So I don't have to go back.

aH Ha!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Wax On, Wax Off

No, I'm not refering to my facial hair, which by the way has definitely decreased greatly status post two laser treatments.  I go again for a third in June.  That is, if I can keep remembering to apply the 30 SPF on my upper lip so the laser doesn't mistake my entire soup strainer as a stache needing zapping.

So I have to admit, I haven't read too much of either of my new books.  I did start the Venus/Mars one and actually underlined a few things I found to fit my situation.  I also learned that when a man goes to his cave he does not want help getting out of it. 

No comments.  No questions.  Nun-a-dat. 

HUH?  How can I not nag a tad when he is distancing himself more and sinking further into a depression that resembles familial abandonment?  So at first I did.  I tried to ignore his continuous cave visits and multiples random naps throughout the day until finally on Friday after about 11 straight days of rain I found him once again sleeping the day away in the spare bedroom.  I crawled up on the bed and asked if there was anything I could do to help?  "I'm fine" he says.  "Well good" I replied "cause we aren't."  "huh?" he asked.  "there are three of here altogether and it's affecting us all and you are losing me".  I got up and walked upstairs cause the faucets were liking to start running and he hates that.  About fifteen minutes later he was up and about and functioning like it was go time.  Maybe it wasn't anything I said.  But whatever it was, he's all into me and all over me again.  Hell, he even asked me to marry him, albeit in the heat of passion.  I told him that discredits any proposal, especially when we weren't really connecting recently..or were we?  Somebody tell me! Will I ever understand?  Oh the rollercoaster.  The ebb, the tide.  How long will the tide be out this time? 

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


Today I purchased a couple of books that should have been displayed in the self-help section but were found in the relationship category.  The first, Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus is an oldie, however I never had a desire to read it before cause hey, what could a man possibly know about where women are from and what they are thinking?  But I'm ready now.  I have to be.  I'm desperate and searching for how to understand my relationship, my role in this relationship (I've been told I'm not the woman) and most of all I need to understand the MAN in this relationship, even if he claims emotionally he is not the man. 

A month ago when I returned from Arizona I experienced possibly the best two weeks of any relationship I have been in.  We were working on things.  Finding the connection.  Letting guards down and taking risks and I felt we were swimming in the benefits of all the hard work we were putting forth as a successful couple.  Key point here :  "I felt".   He did not feel that way and before I could even get used to being the type of girlfriend I've often wanted to be, he stepped off. 

Off the spectrum that is.

I tell him he's sooo not a spectrum guy.  He's either ON or OFF.  He won't hang out on it. Perhaps if I could find a way to hide some beer along the spectrum he'd linger a little.  Hmph.  Anyway, It's the hardest thing I've had to learn about a person, ever.  All or nothing.  Black or White.  That doesn't work for someone who is learning a trait that does not come naturally for whatever reason.  It takes everything I have to compliment someone.  It takes even more to tell them face to face that I love them.  I constantly WANT to say things to people that I'm thinking..ahem, nice things..but I usually can not do it.  But I'm working on it.  And I'm working on affection.  When I feel like touching him I actually will instead of just thinking of how badly I want to do it.  I don't know why it's so hard.  The only thing I can come up with is fear of rejection.  Or fear of looking or sounding like an idiot.  Here's an example:

One evening last week the hospital had a "Nurse Appreciation" breakfast in the cafeteria at 1:30am consisting of a free waffle buffet.  I wasn't even aware it was nurse appreciation week, but free waffles are definitely a good way to draw my attention to anything.  A nurse from the floor calls and wants to know if I can come up and do a bedside exam on a patient who needs her gallbladder scanned.  I ask why I need to come up, to which she replies "because we don't have anyone to bring her down and she's not feeling well".  I've given into this in the past and was very familiar with what it meant to not have anyone to bring the patient down.  Translation:  We don't have a PCA tonight and all of our nurses are busy checking their emails (perhaps even blogging) and don't feel it's in their job title to stoop to transporting a patient.  I've gone up before and  watched in horror as all these unavailable nurses sat around laughing and eating and shootin' the shit while I'm rearranging the patients room in order to fit my machine next to the bed and bending in positions that'll cut my career short because I can't move some things, like IV poles and large recliners.  Ergonomically, it's a back bender and a shoulder shatterer and I can't afford to seize having employment.  Capeche?  If the patient is hooked up to ventilation, or in ICU for whatever reason it's a given we go bedside and we get enough of those that we really can't afford favors.  WHOA..pull it back in blogger girl..enough with the tangent.

I explain to the woman on the phone that typically a nurse will bring the patient down and she agreed to find someone.  About fifteen minutes later my patient arrives via wheelchair being pushed by a very friendly and helpful nurse.  She even helped get the patient onto the bed!  We started chatting and I thanked her for bringing the patient down and on the tip of my heavy, weighted and frozen tongue were the words "I really appreciate what you nurses do", "Thank you thank you for bringing her it means a lot to me and I really appreciate it, happy Nurse Appreciation Week".    What came out?

"Did you get the free waffles?"

So that's me.  My struggles with my reservations to tell people how I feel.  Don't get me wrong, I can tell certain people things that most can't.  I can tell my sister that she's sick and needs help and dating a psychotic man who I hope gets wiped out by an IED in his 3 month stint in Afghanistan (and I sincerely mean it).  I can tell my Mom she's depressed and needs to start moving or she will be in a wheelchair in a year.  Or that I think she lives beyond her means and shouldn't be buying pulltabs.  I can tell my Dad's wife that she needs to be careful with pain pills cause they really only mask pain, whereas ibuprofen actually decreases swelling and speeds up healing and you can't get addicted to Ibuprofen.  I can't, however, tell her that I believe she may already have an addiction.  I can tell you I like your hair, your coat, your new car, the gift you gave me.  But I can't tell you I think your gorgeous and sexy and make me tingle.  I can only think it. 


So anyway, maybe if I can understand men and women and their different needs and wants and hopefully get my man to read as well (he's usually on board with that kinda thing) we can make this work afterall.  Because I want those weeks back.  They truly were, simply the best.