Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Is There Anyone Alive Out There?

I don’t know why I stopped posting.  I really don’t.  I know lots of people are posting less and less because of twitter, but to be honest, I am not interested in twitter at all.  It’s overwhelming to me in some respects, and, well, what if I have something to say that’s more than 140 characters?  I think I’ve found a solution.  A place where I can send in text posts or write them the old fashion way.  I started the site a few days ago, and so far am liking it. 

The domain should be easy to remember, and my wit or bitchiness will fill the pages, so it’s really not that different.  Baby steps.  If you are interested in my new place, shoot me an email at tidw0516 [at] gmail [dot] com.  That’s a Zero, not an Oh.  I would have you just comment, but spammers have found me and I’m getting loads of comments at a time, so I’m just deleting them all for the most part.  Don’t worry, Coop.  I got yours, and was aware of the problem. 

I’ve decided to make a book (or several) of my posts from this site.  I did a lot of living in my 20s, and most of it is cataloged in some way here.  I have this domain until November, so I’ll use that time to print out all my entries.  As I save my posts into another program, I will be disabling them, so my archives will slowly disappear.  Maybe one day the neighborhood kids will read about my life and know that I wasn’t always a crazy old woman - I used to be a crazy YOUNG woman! 

I’d like to think of this not as the end, or even taking the scenic route.  I’d like to think of this as taking an unexpected detour on my road of life.  This site has been good to me.  It has become a part of how I identify myself, really.  I just need a change. 

There will only be one more post on this site.  I am a fan of letters, and so I will write one to myself, and my site, as a goodbye.  I hope there are a few people left out there who care enough to follow me, but if not, know that everyone who has commented here is thought of kindly.  You guys have cheered me through the good times, and gotten me through the bad ones, and for that, I thank you.

Posted by amy t. @ 10:32 AM in • Evaporated • Imitation of Life · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Friday, May 01, 2009

YOU SHIT ON MY HOUSE! *Sob*

This is not a good week for me.  We had all that horrific rain on Tuesday, which brought with it some serious humidity and the entire world-population of mosquitoes.  My favorite girl left the weight loss center (well, moved to another location).  And then, there was yesterday.

I was in a pretty good mood last night.  I stopped at Target on my way home, so it was almost 8 before I rolled into my apartment.  I opened the door, stepped in, and froze.  Something was VERY amiss.  It smelled.  It smelled bad.  It smelled like a diaper genie had exploded in my apartment.  My eyes watered. I gagged.  And then I went looking for the source.  It didn’t take me long to find it.  Sophie had been sick.  Really sick.  Numerous times.  All. over. my bathroom.  That’s what you want to come home to after a long day - butt sickness.  I could tell that it had been going on a while, not just by the sheer amount, but by the varying stages of solidity.  Over by the toilet? Pure liquid, running all over the floor and hitting anything in its path, including some clothing, my scale, and my bathmat.  Behind the bathroom door? A solid-ish puddle.  And that’s when I saw it.  My dog, my sweet, sweet dog, had left me a big, gooey steamer.

In my bathtub.

I had to escape the bathroom for a bit because the smell was overwhelming, so I took Soph in the kitchen and tried to get some Pepto down her.  She was not a fan.  I even tried dipping some cheese (her favorite) into the medicine, but she spat the cheese out on the floor - a first for sure.  I didn’t know what else to do, so I finally gave her half an Immodium, thus ensuring she will be blocked up for a week.  Then I ventured into the bedroom.  I could smell shit in there as well, but I couldn’t find it, so I figured it was carry over smell from the bathroom.  I cleaned the bathroom, which involved several towels, lots of gagging, two gladware containers, a boat load of Kaboom, and disposing of some poor, shit-soaked socks.  Once that was done, and the smell was hidden by an entire can of Oust, I went back to the bedroom.

Still stinky.  I looked everywhere.  In the closet, under the bed, in all her normal nooks she likes to curl up in.  Still, nothing.  I finally gave up and went back into the kitchen to start a load of laundry.  I heard Sophie do a little huffy bark, so I went to check on her.  She was standing looking into the corner behind my closet door.  She kept looking at me and then back to the corner.  I finally went over and what did I find?  Butt pee on my carpet!  I’m glad she was smart enough to show me where it was, but seriously wish she’d stuck to the bathroom.  There was a lot of that batch, and it was all down in the crevice between the carpet and baseboard.  Cue more gagging and a frantic search for my carpet cleaner. 

It’s all over now, and I’m praying we don’t have a repeat today.  Not only can I really not afford a vet visit just now, but I really can’t handle having to clean up any more shit.  Sophie is in good spirits - hyper and happy as always, so I’m hoping she’s better today.  Cross your fingers.

And just to cap off my week…

I keep my mp3 player at work.  I don’t use it often, but I do use it.  I used it earlier this week.  Today I went to use it and it’s gone.  GONE.  I probably left it on my desk, which means anyone could have taken it, but I’m still mad as hell.  In my head, I’m shaking an angry fist in the air and cursing those pesky kids.  Because, you know, we have so many pesky kids hanging around here. 

This week?  Can suck it.

Posted by amy t. @ 09:09 AM in • Bitchfest • Imitation of Life • The Friday Files · (6) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Holy Mother Effing Goop

So I was just reading this little tidbit about how Gwyneth Paltrow did a big spring cleaning of her closet, and is auctioning off the things she cleaned out of her closet.  I clicked on the link, and was taken to the ebay auction.  I had gone through the first two pages before it hit me.

Blinded by some of the gorgeous shoes and hideous outfits (Michael Kors Black Strapless Bustier Pants Jumpsuit, anyone?), I was on page three, near the end of the auction when I realized with a jolt - I could fit into some of these items. 

Now, I know, designer couture probably has Gwyneth in a 10 when really she’s a 4, but then I saw it - a pair of jeans with a 32” waist.  One inch larger than all the designer jeans I just scored on ebay a few weeks ago.  Holy. Shitballs.

I was trying to deny it, but I think I may be suffering a mild case of body dismorphia.  I for sure am having a hard time recognizing that the girl in the mirror is a hell of a lot smaller than the girl in the mirror a year ago.  And when I’m shopping, I immediately pick up a 14 or 16.  I have to stop, tell myself that I need the 10, or maybe even the 8, and even then I usually pick up the 10 and the 12 (always trying the 12 on first so that I don’t have to feel bad when the 10 is too small, which, other than in bathing suit tops, it has not been).  But yeah.  I could fit into something Gwyneth Paltrow wore.

For some reason, that totally freaks me out.

Posted by amy t. @ 07:54 AM in • Imitation of Life • Just Eat It · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Product Pimpage

I don’t know that I’ve ever done a straight up product pimpage here before, but now I must.  Behold!

I don’t get home from work until around 6:30 at night.  Weekends I’m usually on the go, so if I ever want to give myself a pedicure it has to be on a night after work.  No matter how early I do it, no matter how dry it feels, the polish is never dry enough when I go to bed.  I always end up with a mess in the morning, because I sleep on my stomach, and therefore my toes are pressed into my sheets.  I wake up with sheet weave patterns on my toes.  Well, NO MORE!

One day last week, in an effort to make myself feel slightly better about everything going on with me and my health, I picked up a bottle of nail polish at the drug store.  It was Sally Hansen Insta-Dri.  It’s good I didn’t notice it was spelled “Dri” instead of “Dry,” because I probably wouldn’t have gotten it.  Anyway, the bottle and brush are rad.  The bottle is kinda flat, which I thought was weird, until I opened it.  It has a wide, flat, applicator and brush.  I would imagine that on nails it would only take one swoop to cover the whole nail (I imagine, plus it says that in the description on the site). 

I painted my toes around 9:00 p.m.

It was dry to the touch in about a minute. 

It only took one coat for serious color.

AND I STILL HAD A SHINY FINISH IN THE MORNING!

So ladies… Go.  Buy.  Paint!  Seriously, worth every penny.

Posted by amy t. @ 08:09 AM in • Imitation of Life · (1) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Friday, April 03, 2009

Verbal Shanking...

Just for that last comment… Coop likes “How Do You Sleep” by Jesse McCartney!!!!

Posted by amy t. @ 10:43 AM in • The Friday Files · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Relieved and Exhausted

Well, I spoke to my doctor.  I do not have gallstones, which is a relief, sorta.  At least if it was gallstones there would be a concrete reason for the pain, and a definite solution to making the pain go away.  After going over the radiologist report, my doctor broke it down for me like this.

“You have some sludge in your gallbladder, which is causing the swelling, and therefore the pain.  It should dissolve on its own.”

That’s right.  My doctor used the oh-so-technical word “sludge” as my diagnosis. 

My liver function tests still came back high, so I have to go in for more blood work in about two weeks.  So that’s that.

I ate last night - my first real, solid meal in a week.  As anyone knows, when you are sick and suffering a loss of appetite, you eat whatever sounds good just to get food in you.  And by yesterday afternoon I knew I had to eat something.  Something big.  And the only thing that sounded good was a hamburger.  Not just any little thing, either.  A big, fuck-off, monster burger with bacon and cheese.  The fries didn’t really interest me at all, but the burger was running through my mind all day.  So that’s what I had.  I desperately needed some protein.  I could feel it in my muscles I needed it so much.  And in my head.  Oh, my poor head.  After a day full of super-stress, plenty of tears, and well into day six of Operation Empty Stomach, my head was pounding.  I’m sure you know - you probably heard the jackhammer in my head from wherever you are.  I couldn’t take any meds on the chance that they’d upset my stomach, so I had to eat. 

I owe thanks to a lot of people for yesterday.  I had well wishes coming from far and wide, and they are much appreciated.  But the biggest thanks goes to, of course, Sarah.  You see, nobody makes you feel better like your mom does.  Mom’s make you feel looked after and loved like nobody else can.  Boyfriends make you feel comfortable and safe, and they rub the tension out of your shoulders for you.  Your girlfriends make you smile, and they let you know that they will be there in a flash - no matter the distance - if you need them.  But your best friend?  Your best friend makes you forget, and for that, I am forever grateful.  I needed to relax and forget more than I have needed to in a very long time, and the minute I walked into Sarah’s apartment, even before I’d walked into her open arms (she gives the best hugs!), I felt better than I had all day.  Some lame girly telly, some kitty cuddle (like Sophie cuddle, only with fewer tongue baths) and some time with the newest little lady in our life and I felt like a different person when I stepped back into my apartment. 

Today has been long.  After talking to my doctor, I realized I’ve been running on a tension high.  Once the tension was taken away, once I knew surgery was not in my immediate future, I felt like a deflated balloon.  I ate another full meal for lunch today (well, mostly.  I sorta picked my way through it, but it was enough to count for a small meal), and now I’m running on fumes.  I want nothing more than a hot bath, a good book, and my pillow.  *Sigh* It’s still a long way from six o’clock.

Posted by amy t. @ 02:22 PM in • Evaporated · (2) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

I Also Hate Waiting

My liver function tests came back high.  My doctor thinks it may be gallstones.  More blood work, then over to radiology for an ultrasound.  It was a long, stressful day.  And I won’t know anything else until tomorrow morning.  Part of me hopes it is gallstones, because then the pain will go away.  The other part of me is freaking out at the thought of surgery - no matter how minor.

Posted by amy t. @ 06:16 PM in • Evaporated · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

I Hate Being Afraid

This has been a rough few days.  Friday was fine.  I was supposed to go to a Fogo-like restaurant for dinner, so I fasted all day.  Those plans fell through, so I splurged and ordered food from my favorite Italian delivery place.  I had a chicken risoto, which I hadn’t had before.  It was okay, but definitely not the best thing I’ve had there.  And then I was in bed by 11:30.  That’s where it all when horribly awry.  I woke up at 2 a.m., knowing I needed to go to the bathroom.  When I sat up, I burped.  And then I knew there would be badness.  And badness there was.  I was sick.  Sicker than I maybe ever have been in my life.  I spent the next 4 hours laying on the bathroom floor, barely able to even make it the two feet from the floor to the bowl when I needed to.  I slept in five and ten minute blips, shoulders and hips aching from the icy cold bathroom floor.  Alternating between dripping sweat and muscle-racking chills.  I eventually made it into the living room for the little trash can, because by 5 a.m. I needed it.  Nothing makes you feel quite as nasty as sitting on the toilet with a trash can in your lap.  I finally slowed down enough to crawl into my bed around 6:30, but even then I never stayed there longer than 20 minutes or so at a time.  I just couldn’t take the floor anymore.  My joints were screaming in pain.  By 9:30, I’d given up on sleep.  I huddled in various places - the bed, the bathroom floor, the couch - never without my trash can.  By noon my stomach muscles were so tired they couldn’t even heave anymore.  I knew I needed to be sick, so I would make myself cough until that jump-started my stomach.  My back was in searing agony.  I have back problems, so I wasn’t alarmed, but these were in a slightly lower spot than normal for me, which I figured was a result of my night on the floor. Let’s face it - 30 is too old for that shit. 

I couldn’t keep down even so much as a mouthful of water, but I got to that point where I just started guzzling liquids because I needed something in my stomach to get back out.  It may be gross, but throwing up is much less painful than dry heaving, and if you have to do it, straight liquid is the way to go.  I finally got some stomach meds to stay down around 4, and shortly after that got an Immodium down.  By evening the vomit was only coming about every hour or so, and thanks to a heating pad my back was feeling better.  By midnight, it was done.  The next morning I felt like a new woman.  One who lost NINE POUNDS in one day, but at least I felt human.  And I was glad I did, because Sunday I had tickets to Les Mis - my most favoritest of plays.  I showered, I dressed, I went.  The production wasn’t the best I’ve seen (this was my fourth or fifth show), but the vocals were by far the best.  By the time I got home, I was exhausted.  I went to bed early thinking I had some 24 hour bug, and I went to work Monday.  Not such a great plan.

I only lasted an hour at work.  I had stabbing pains in my stomach.  At first I thought they may be hunger - I mean, I hadn’t eaten and kept down a full meal since Thursday night.  But when I couldn’t stand up straight the pain was so bad, I knew it was time to relent and call the doctor.  I went to the first available appointment.  It went as I thought it would - the doctor gave me some meds for the nausea and told me to go home and get in bed.  We veered a little off course though, when he started palpating my stomach.  The pain was in a few areas, and afterwards he wanted to do some blood work.  No biggie.  I suffered the needle, then the hour wait at the pharmacy, and I was home and in bed by noon.  The meds knocked my ass out, because the next thing I knew it was 7.  I managed to eat and keep down a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and went to bed by 10.  I called in on Tuesday - I didn’t want to overdo it, which is what I figured I’d done on Sunday.  I was fine most of the day.  I managed to eat some chicken and rice at lunch, and I got lots of fluids into myself. I put back on a few of the pounds I’d dropped, so I figured I was okay.  I called the doctor for my blood results.  I have gotten blood work with this doctor before, and they have no problem telling you you’re fine over the phone, but my results weren’t in yet.  Then I got hit with a wave of nastiness around 5.  I went from totally fine to barely able to stand in .5 seconds.  I turned ghostly white and knew I had to get into bed.  I spent the rest of my night there, flying through the pages of a good book. 

I didn’t sleep well.  I tossed and turned, I was hot, I was cold.  I think I probably had a low fever again.  I should have checked this morning.  I simply forgot, since my mind was occupied by the stabbing pain returning to my stomach.  I tried to push it out of my mind.  I can be a bit of a hypochondriac sometimes, and figured I was just trying to weasel out of going to work again.  The pain isn’t as intense today, but I still feel it.  And now it is accompanied by wave after wave of fear.

Because the doctor called.  They want me back in today.  To discuss my blood work. 

I can’t help but be scared shitless.

Posted by amy t. @ 08:35 AM in • Evaporated · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Friday, February 27, 2009

Validation

Since I started making jewelry, it’s been a little up and down.  If I didn’t have such awesome friends, my sales would be minimal.  Until this morning, my sales would have been non-existent, but now, just minimal.  Yessiree, I finally sold a necklace to someone I don’t know!  I sold Hoop Dreamer, and I’m totally excited about it.  Of course, I immediately posted another necklace to take that spot.

I had previously decided that my gift-to-self with my tax refund would be a condenser mic that I could use to record some vocals at home, but I have since decided that I really need to spend that money on an external hard drive instead.  So I thought about it and decided that any money I make from jewelry sales will go into the mic fund.  Previously, any sale I’ve made has been immediately invested in new bead supplies, but that has to stop for a while.  I have more than enough to make plenty of new necklaces for now.  And in a few more sales, I’ll have enough for the mic, so go me!

Posted by amy t. @ 10:07 AM in • For The Money · (4) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Monday, February 23, 2009

All You Can Eat Buffet!

I DID IT.  Please take a moment to reflect on how awesome I am.  ...  ...  ...  Okay.  Moving on…

And to celebrate, I did what any girl who’s been on a restricted diet for seven months would do - I gorged.  Saturday’s lunch consisted of Delicious Indian food.  Heavy on the cream, lots of naan and rice.  And a late night Cadbury egg snack.  Sunday I went out for brunch and treated myself to lots of rosemary roasted potatoes, veggie fritatta, and heaps and heaps of bacon.  And a late night snack of thin mints.  I felt like crap most of the rest of each day, but the food was delicious, and I know it will only take a few days to counteract my weekend splurge.  If I lose the five pounds I’m supposed to this week, and even just two pounds each week for the two weeks after, I will be well past my “holy shit, I’d love to weigh that!” goal.

20 days and counting…

Posted by amy t. @ 02:56 PM in • Just Eat It · (1) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Friday, February 20, 2009

Leaping Lizards!

I disappeared again.  Imagine that!  Once the audit ended, things got a little crazy round here.  We did okay, but mostly only for two reasons:  1) A new standard is being released, and our auditor didn’t see the point in making us fix things we weren’t doing okay with on THIS standard, when he knows those requirements are going away soon, and 2) He was the type of guy that sees both the trees and the forest, and he gave us lots of credit for the forest.  Or something like that.  Anyway, a rush of meetings and brainstorming sessions always occur after the audit, and add in to that training a new admin and it’s been a little hectic.  My computer at home is going totally apeshit because I got some weird virus, which has stored itself in my system32 file, which I can’t access, and even though I know it’s possible to get in there, I know I’m too much of a technotard to mess around there without catastrophe ensuing.  So I’m doing what I can, and hoping for the best.

In other news… Tomorrow is the day, people.  Starting Monday, I have three official weeks left on my diet.  My personal goal is to reach 148.  I’d like to be enough under 150 that a single meal splurge won’t bump me back up.  My goal stated on my program sheets is 150.  That, too, would be totally acceptable.  But the number that got this started was 50.  Fifty pounds in 16 weeks.  Well, thanks to a few trips and nearly a month off in December, it’s taken me way longer than 16 weeks, but I’m okay with that.  Anything that keeps my weight dropping without me entering the gym is fine by me.  Next week I’m doing a special diet designed to kick my metabolism into high gear to drop five to seven pounds and get me to my goal before my weight loss period ends.  After my three weeks are up, I go into transition, which is where I start getting foods back.  Week 1, I get all my veggies back (except starchy ones like peas and corn).  HELLO, AVOCADOS!  Week two I get dairy.  WELCOME BACK, CHEESE!  Week 5 I get alcohol.  BRING ON THE HANGOVER! Okay, just kidding on that last one…

Once my transition is complete, in addition to some major shopping*, I plan on doing a crawl.  Not a pub crawl, but an appetizer crawl.  I want little bits of so many different foods, I figure this is the best way to go about it.  Table-side guacamole at Pappasitos.  Queso at Chacho’s.  The goat cheese appetizer at Carrabbas.  I’m working on my list now.  I figure it’s better to have one day where I go food crazy and get everything in then to spend two weeks going out to eat and gorging myself every night.  But I digress. 

I said tomorrow is the day.  Tomorrow, I will hit 50 pounds. I know because I’m only .5 pounds away today, and I am determined to be good tonight.  I am usually down on Saturday mornings.  My body seems to reward a hard week of proper food choices by dropping me a good chunk Saturdays.  Last week I was 157 on Friday, 155 on Saturday.  Of course, I’d gone out Friday night, spent Saturday morning and afternoon with my head in the toilet, and then spent Saturday night stuffing myself with illegal foods just because they sounded good and I needed to eat, so I was up a few pounds on Monday.  But yeah.  I know I’ll be down tomorrow if I behave tonight.  And behave I will.

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow.

I love ya, tomorrow.

You’re only a daaaaaaaaaaaay… aaaaaaaaaaaaa… waaaaaaaaaay!

Posted by amy t. @ 08:36 AM in • Just Eat It • The Friday Files · (2) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Monday, February 09, 2009

Glad I Dressed Up Today

I am SO glad I wore my new dress to work today.  The tire tracks I’m sporting all over my back look awesome.  I should have known better - I knew I’d be thrown under the bus before 9 a.m. today.

Arg.

Posted by amy t. @ 11:11 AM in • For The Money · (1) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Friday, February 06, 2009

So Close...

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, so if I have, sorry for the repeat.  Last year on our cruise, we took lots of pictures.  Kind of a given, really.  I didn’t get prints from my mom until just after my diet started.  I was horrified.  In one shot in particular, I looked like a beached whale.  A beached whale in a green and black tankini.  My father took the photo as I was coming out of the water in Cozumel.  I am walking towards him, but do not notice him.  If you want the pictorial definition of “letting it all hang out,” then I have the picture for you.  There I am, in all my fat glory.  I nearly retched at the sight of it.  Shortly thereafter, I placed that photo and a couple of other offenders on a sheet of paper.  On another sheet, I wrote myself a note.  I put the note over the pictures and then put both on my freezer door, right at eye level.  The note says something like this:

Dear Self,

I know you are hungry, and I know you want to cheat.  Be strong.  Look at these pictures and remember that the goal is to NEVER look like this again.

That note and those pictures have pushed me on numerous times when I was past ready to give up.  But now, I am getting very, very close to my goal for my diet.  Today, I clocked in at 158.  That’s 46 pounds down, for anyone that cares.  Granted, it’s taken me a couple of months longer than I originally thought, but since I haven’t clocked any time in the gym at all, I’m totally okay with that.  I won a couple of weeks of free weight loss today, which means that next week I will start with five weeks left instead of three.  I don’t have to go the full five weeks if I don’t want to, but it’s nice to know the option is there. 

When I started this diet, I was supposed to lose 50 pounds in 16 weeks.  So, technically, at 154, I can be done.  The center has my goal down as 150, so I could also technically stop there.  My personal goal is 149.  I know that seems stupid, but I haven’t weighed less than 150 since my freshman year of college - 11 years ago.  If I stick it out for the full five remaining weeks, even if I only lose two pounds per, I’ll be at 148, which gives me a little more cushion.  Once the weight loss portion of this program is over, I do six weeks of transition, where I start adding foods back in and altering my portion sizes and such.  Each week brings me a little more latitude, and I’m really looking forward to that.  Especially week five, where I get “moderate alcohol” back.  With the exception of two or three weekends, I haven’t had much alcohol in the last six months.  There are two beers in my fridge taunting me every night when I get home from work - especially now, with the heavy stress load.  After that I go into maintenance - no more weighing in a zillion times a week.  I can’t freaking WAIT for that to stop. 

I was put on a new plan this week to help me drop these last few pounds.  I used to get two proteins, four veggies, three fruits, two starches, one fat, and two supplements.  The new plan cuts two veggies and one fruit and also cuts the size of my protein portions.  It will take a little getting used to, but I think it will be fine.  And hey - it’s working.  Since the new phase started, I’ve lost two pounds in two days, so I can’t complain.

There is finally a light starting to shine at the end of this tunnel, and it is a glorious site to behold.  I am getting so close it feels almost surreal, so I decided to do something today that most would find insane.  I tried on bathing suits.  Now, granted, I went to Old Navy for this, so it wasn’t a stellar experience.  Sweatshop kids don’t really understand that huge tits need good support, so I knew I wouldn’t be leaving with a suit.  But the important thing is that I did it.  And I tried on a bikini.  Me.  Bikini.  People that actually know me just fell out of their chairs.  And the amazing thing is… it may be something I do again.  I mean, surprisingly, I didn’t look all that bad.  Granted, I’m not toned at all (something I hope to remedy soonish), but I think if I was I could have ventured so far as to say I looked pretty good. 

If someone had told me 10 years ago that I’d weigh 50 pounds less than I did at 20 and that I’d be thinking about buying a bikini, I would have laughed loudly in their face.  But you know what?  Seeing myself in that suit and not cringing with disgust?  That moment makes the diet totally worth it.

Posted by amy t. @ 03:21 PM in • The Friday Files · (2) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Breathing Easier

So the chemical mistake of yesterday morning was corrected when I got home last night.  After a seriously crazy day of running around like whoa, nearly beating coworkers with large binders, lunch at a Mexican restaurant with a former coworker (a major exercise in will power, people.  I only ate THREE CHIPS), and training my new file clerk, my brain was total mush by about 4:30.  Luckily, thanks to that lunch out, I only took half my normal lunch and was able to leave an hour early from work.  I treated myself to a nail appointment in an effort to curb the stress nibbling I’ve been doing on my nails this week, and then headed home to relax.  Half a xanax, a little Janis, a bath, and a quick and easy dinner had me vegging on the couch by 8:30.  Most of the major things that were causing my lengthy panic attack are starting to come together, and today I’m breathing a little easier.  I hope I can still say that an hour from now.

I decided to take a few minutes this morning to catch up on the web.  I have barely been at my desk at all over the last few days, and I have been going through pop culture withdrawls.  So I start reading up on some stuff.  And I stumble across this piece about Dakota Fanning, and how she has like, three movies out this week and two movies releasing on dvd at the same time.  Seriously. Read the entire paragraph.

And now we’ve got “Push,” a movie I managed to miss because I had to see and read and dream about every other Fanning project. So far, the buzz has been so-so (and at times confused with the Sundance winner of the same name starring Mariah Carey and Mo’Nique), with critics considering the action-thriller/science fiction/comic book-inspired picture a bit silly, though Fanning, as usual, terrific. The story sounds convoluted, something about (according to Rotten Tomatoes) “psychic espionage” and “artificially enhanced paranormal operatives [with] the ability to move objects with their minds, see the future, create new realities and kill without ever touching their victims.” That kind of thing.

Hold up.  Wait.  Go back.  Did the writer use “Sundance winner” and “Mariah Carey” in the same sentence?  WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE WORLD?  Have I, in only a few days, managed to miss the moment where MC became a good actress?  Down with good acting by MC!  Viva la Glitter!  Okay.  Sorry.  I just needed to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated that paragraph.

Alright.  I’m gonna continue my re-introduction to pop culture.  Perhaps I will have more for you later…

Posted by amy t. @ 08:25 AM in • The Friday Files · (0) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Major Chemical Mistake

I took an adderall this morning.  I should have taken a fucking xanax.  I’ll be lucky if I don’t get fired today for smacking the everloving shit out of one of my coworkers.

Audit in T-minus two days and counting down…

Posted by amy t. @ 10:21 AM in • Bitchfest • For The Money · (1) Comments · (0) Trackbacks ·