Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Hump Day is for Virginia

No, wait, Virginia is for lovers!
That's what it is.
Same thing.

I just got home from the gym, and first of all:
it was a great workout.
I feel great.
While I was there I made an important discovery.
Divorce Court is the single greatest comedy on tv today.
I suppose I shouldn't laugh at other people's pain,
but when their stupidity is the cause of their pain, it's just too easy.

How could I have been distracted from my most exciting news?
(don't answer that...we all know I need Ritalin, but that'll never happen so can it.)
Can you believe I never got around to seeing it in the theater?
I can't.
It has only been 4 or 5 months since it was first released, though,
so how could I have?
My schedule is so full, it takes a bare minimum of 6 months for me to plan for something as complex and time-consuming as seeing a film in the theater! I saw "V for Vendetta" last week...
(did I mention that already? If not: it ROCKED.)
but that's hardly the point.
Hubby pretended to be ok with seeing it, but I knew he didn't really want to.
It's a sappy love story, for starters, and the fact that the main love story does not include a woman's breasts sorta counts him out.
So anyway.
It's a grey ole day, had some lightening escort me to the doctor's office this morning, even, and it just might be the perfect afternoon for curling up in bed with a couple of hot cowboys.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Ok, so moving right along...
Yes, I went to the doctor this morning.
Half the reason was just to have my blood check for thyroid levels,
which, by the way, is getting old.
My veins have always been shittty, and they're even worse lately.
They have a full-time phlemotobist (or however you spell the word for someone trained to draw blood) and he's good.
They call him the vampire, but he's soft-spoken and soft-edged and pale in an entirely un-eery way.
He told me a story today about a heroin addict he had to draw blood from,
and they couldn't get a vein and she finally took the needle and stuck it under her tongue...
Apparently the desperation of an addict for a vein fascilitated her familiarity with such a thing.
Oh, I brought it up because he referred to my impossible veins as "tracks" and I said, "yeah, from my days as a heroin addict."
and we laughed, then I said, "...uh...I was joking."
so he followed up with his story.
In other words, "you too fat to be an addict."
the other reason I went has been reviewed by a panel and judged to be too embarassing to share here.
Well, wait...
that sounds worse than it is.
I have a friend who has lost 40 pounds with a prescription weight loss drug,
and as scared as I am of drugs in general and weight loss drugs in specific...
I was considering it.
Doc lectured me (kindly) for 20 minutes,
nearly made me cry,
and mostly made up for it by pronouncing I only have ten pounds to go.
Lying bastard.
I am the size of a house.
Ask anyone who's met me.
I am not accustomed to being the size of a house,
so it bothers me a LOT.
...make that, "a fuck of a lot".
If anyone dares to say one word about weight--whether it be positive or negative--
I will ban you from my site and send you hate mail and donuts.
the problem with having a blog like* mine is that it is impossible for me to hide my felings when I'm writing.
If something's on my mind, it spills out onto this page.
Sometimes its cryptic, and you think I'm writing a poem...
but I'm not.
I'm just describing the scenery in my head.
And sometimes, like today, I end up saying things that I should regret,
or that I wish I didn't feel or know...
it's late.
No one will read this,
and after I watch brokeback, and cheer up, I can post something befitting a restless little fantasy slut like myself.
that means I'm a slut in my dreams (and yours, har har), just so's ya know.
I feel deflated and defeated and pissed off right now.
I just wanted some help.
I just want to have my body back.
I just wanted to punch that skinny doctor right in his pokey little adam's apple.
I guess I should just face the fact that I'll never look the way I did ten years ago,
and focus on more important things.
Like the fact that I chose Paris with my Mom over a tummy tuck...
and I would make cookies with my sweet little boys every day just to see them smile...
and I love exercising; I enjoy every damn minute of it every time, so it's not like it's some great punishment for my covetous infatuation with dessert.
It could be worse.
A lot...lot worse.

I just had to get that off my chest.
I've been carrying it around all day and it was starting to get heavy.
Boy, was that awkward.
I feel so vulnerable, now.
Maybe I can get the cowboys to hold me until my tears dry.

I already regret posting this, but what the fuck--

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