I Have PCOS

I have been diagnosed with PCOS, polycystic ovary disease. As I'm reading a lot of forums and questions online, I realize there is very little information about this disease. I want to put this out there (and try to remember to update on it) for those who are google-ing obsessively, like myself. I'm hoping some women will stumble upon it and be helped in some small way.

Let me start at the beginning: I was a very active teenager, and I was always very thin. I don't think I capped 100 lbs before college. But, I am 5'2", so I wasn't exactly anorexic. I have always had a sleeping problem--for as long as I can remember. When I started Freshman year at UGA, I pretty much lost it due to lack of sleep. I went to the student health center, and a doctor there prescribed Trazodone once a day just before bed to help me sleep. I stayed on it for nearly 6 years. I started to put on a little weight during this time, and I chalked it up to the less active lifestyle of college and the sleeping pills, which are rumored to make you gain.

I graduated in May of 2007 and moved to Kennesaw, GA for my job. I was probably all of a size 6, maybe 125 lbs at the time. I was a very good size. But, I steadily and quickly started packing on pounds, despite living on the third floor with no elevator. I was getting concerned with the gaining because I honestly wasn't doing anything different--no change in diet, exercise, etc. After gaining 50 pounds or more, a doctor finally discovered my hypothyroidism.

I started taking Levothyroxin in 2008, and I have that under control. But, that control wasn't achieved before I peaked out at 215 lbs. (Recall that I am 5'2".) I thought at that point I could surely lose the weight--being that my thyroid was supposedly doing its thing now. But, after several months, and purchasing my elliptical to do at home due to the embarrassment of swishing my fat ass at the gym, I still wasn't losing.

I decided to come off birth control pills to see if that helped. Not only that, but I'd been on them for 10 years (started at 15 to help regulate periods), and I wanted to see how my cycle would go because my husband and I were getting ready to start trying for a family. Still nothing. Not to mention the fact that I went 40 days without a period, only to get one that was barely worth calling a period and lasted only a day.

My doctor finally referred me to an Endocrinologist, whom I grossly detest. But, she recommended more testing, which produced results of elevated testosterone. I was subsequently subjected to a glucose tolerance test and later diagnosed with PCOS.

Fortunately, I haven't grown a penis. (Joke!) Unfortunately, I do have many of the symptoms, including weight gain, severe acne, and irregular and light periods. I have been fortunate enough to not have excessive hair growth, but I have noticed a tiny amount of hair at the corners of my mouth getting darker. It used to be this white peach-fuzz like the rest of my face.

The doctor prescribed Metformin, 500mg, twice a day. I have been taking it since December 14th. I have yet to really notice much difference. I have tolerated it well, unlike many of the people I've read about online, so I wanted people to know it isn't terrible for everyone. I do have some diarrhea, but it isn't severe. I'm used to stomach upset, though, because my dad has Crohn's disease, and while I don't think I have it, I do share some of his symptoms. So, maybe it would be worse for a normal person.

As of today, I haven't lost any weight to speak of. I've been cutting way back on sugars--making sweet tea with Splenda, drinking diet soda, changing to whole wheat bread, etc. But, nothing yet. My husband and I haven't started trying for a child just yet, but my periods are not yet regular, and I'm not convinced I am ovulating yet. I can't say for sure. My acne does seem to be somewhat diminished, which is great because it sure exploded when I quit the pill--a good indicator of my PCOS because the pill is one f the treatments (probably the reason no one ever realized I have it). I do feel like I have more energy during the day, but I have been wanting to sleep 10 and 12 hours a night during my break from work (30 days off as a requirement from the State--don't get excited, it was without pay), but I go back on Monday, so I'm sure that will put an end to that.

I hope to update soon as to my weight, energy level, menstrual cycle, and other symptoms. I'm only 3 weeks into the Metformin, so I am hoping things will start to look better in the next few weeks. I go back to the doctor on the 21st, so we will see then how my levels look.

I don't know that anyone out there searching for answers will find this, much less find it helpful. But, I wanted to get this out there.

Confession: I Do Drugs (Legally)

Well, it's been quite some time since I've graced you with actual blogging. As I was driving home today in my husband's truck, "Big Red" (see below), which I am more than certain is short for Big Redneck Truck (since I call it that), I was just thinking. And, you know what I was thinking? I was just thinking, I'm happy. I'm happy even though I'm about to be at the end of my temporary position and have no idea if I'll get my unemployment back. I'm happy even though I am living in my in-laws' basement. I'm happy even though I'm completely exhausted. I'll be honest with you, it's probably the Paxil my doctor gave me a few weeks ago when I was a basket case. He also gave me Xanax "for when it's really bad". LOL The Ambien he gave me didn't last long. I was hallucinating. Not fun. Especially if you are not doing it for recreational purposes!

Big Red(neck Truck)

But, maybe, just maybe, in a more simple and forgiving world, I'm happy because I have a new dishwasher (with no electrical hookup for it and no cabinet to put it in).

Maybe it's because I have a new stove with glass top and self cleaning oven (with no electrical hookup for it).

Maybe it's because I have a new counter and cabinets with a new (redneck rigged) sink and faucet.

Maybe it's because I have a new counter top (just sitting over beside the minute amount of usable counter space).

Maybe it's because I have a new (ghetto) bathroom with a new (secondhand) counter and sink (which is an honestly huge improvement over the blue sink that was there--see below), shelving rack (because there are no cabinets), new shower (with plastic walls on a metal tub with chips in the PINK paint).

Maybe it's because I have a new curtain that cinches up all cutesy wootsey (and completely impossible to make like the picture) because there are no curtains available in the range of 25" to 35" to fit above the new air conditioner (which we have because we have no air down here, and it wouldn't matter anyway because my father-in-law controls the temperature, and he is always freezing, and I'm burning up to death like I'm in the pits of hell with a hot poker shoved up my ass sideways).

Or, maybe it's because of my super cactus (which now has this fungus-looking shit on it, and I think it's going to die).

Nah, it's probably the Paxil. Oh, drugs. They do make life grand!

KIDS! Don't do drugs!

Confession: I had a Nervous Breakdown in Public

I alluded to this previously. I thought it deserved a blog post.

I had to go to the unemployment office to reapply for unemployment when my severance ran out. Why they can't just do that if you are certifying I don't know. So, I have to get up at the ass crack, go stand in line for an hour, deal with fucking morons who can't figure out which end to shit out of, and get a different answer from every person I talk to. It's a blast.

So, I do my time in line, and they check me in. And, they tell me to go sit down and wait for my name to be called. Um, didn't I just wait in line? Whatever. So, I sit and wait for my name to be called. I go up, and I tell her my severance has ran out, and she reopens my claim. Then, she says I need to meet with a reemployment representative, and she says to sit down and they will call my name. So, I sit, and I wait, and no one calls my name. After 30 more minutes, I go up and ask what the hold up is, you know, besides their complete idiocy.

She tells me I was supposed to go into the reemployment workshop that start an hour ago that is two hours long that will not begin again for another hour. So, I'm like, um, no. So, she gets someone from that department to meet with me one on one. And, he says I wasn't even supposed to meet with him. I just needed to reopen my claim, and I could go.

Awesome. Two hours of my life I'll never get back.

But it gets better.

I ask what will happen if I miss these stupid little workshops if I am working full time. And, he's like, if you're working full time, you don't get unemployment. And, I'm like, what the fuck?

And, I. Lose. It.

Because I will not even be making as much as my unemployment benefit while teaching (and the unemployment benefit is a third of what I made before).

I fucking lost it.

In public.

Like breakdown. In tears.

Dude did not know what to do.

Poor guy.

So, he gets a claims person to come over, and she confirms what I thought before (he was wrong), and I run like hell.

I was already supposed to be at school observing any way, and I was worried about being so late.

I know, it was stupid, but I was in there, I was shaking, I was nervous, I was red faced and my blood pressure was spiking, I was sick to my stomach, and I was just all around not feeling well. The stress was just getting to me. And, when he told me I was basically fucked, I just couldn't handle it all. I guess that makes me a weak person, but I am about two seconds from going to get some anxiety drugs. I have always been high strung, but this is unreal. For anyone who has ever experienced a panic attack, a nervous breakdown, or any other mental issue, it is a real and true medical problem. You are not alone. There is nothing wrong with you. I just wanted to get that public service announcement out.

Thanks.

I Will Do This

It's official. I'm going back to school.

It's been a month, and I haven't gotten any calls for any permanent positions, even though I've applied to over 50 jobs. I don't know what else to do. I've been talking about doing nursing for a long time, and I think that this is as good a time as any. I've applied and been accepted to Georgia Highlands College. I'll be applying to the nursing program in the next week or so, so wish me luck. I don't think I'll have a lot of trouble, but I absolutely must get in this deadline for this fall, or it will take me an entire year longer because of the way the classes fall. Ugh. It's nerve wracking.

Anyway, I will, by the grace of God and every single thing working out, be an RN in two years.

The next time you see me, I will be wearing scrubs. Or at least, I better be.

FYI: I May Not Be Around Much

Brothers and sisters, I have some bad new. I'm upset, I'm angry, and I'm worried. And, I probably won't be around a whole lot for the next little while. I've got to figure things out and get my priorities straight. Blogging is going to be low on that list. I hope. Anyway, kids, I got fired today. In fact, they closed my office completely--so we all got the boot. If you know of anyone that needs a civil engineer--or a fucking janitor for all I care, I need a job--let me know. I have a BS in Biological Engineering and just shy of 2 years experience in civil engineering (water/wastewater). Keep your eyes open for me, I guess. Thanks. It's been real. It's been fun. But, it ain't been real fun. I'll see you guys later.

The Definition of "Married" is Neutered

So, I'm not the world's most girly-girl. I'm not really all that girly, actually, what with all the guns, football, motorcycles, and farting and burping. Wait, let me back up...

Whenever Travis' dad finally gets well enough to come over and eat chocolate cake and cherry cobbler with everyone (his favorites that I make--his real favorite is banana pudding, but he's super picky about that shit, so I don't even try to make it), we are going to have an engagement party and a true announcement. Everyone has been all, "When were you planning to tell us?" And, I'm all like, "Never?" We never really made a big deal out of it because his dad was in the hospital, and no one felt like partying, anyway. He is finally getting on the up and up, and I'm thinking we can probably plan for this to happen in February.

I say all this to say, I need to know if this is just too much of a buttery, dripping, gagging, sweet, froo-froo, fairy bullshit verse for my engagement party invitations. I promised Travis I wouldn't send it to his friends--just family. He was all like, "Oh, my God, can I have my balls back?" And, I'm all like, "No, you're getting married. Didn't you know that the definition of 'married' is neutered?" So, anyway, I need you to help me out. I would make a true little survey thingy, but, let's be real, I'm lazy and worthless and I just don't give enough of a damn.

You can vote by either leaving a comment or clicking one of the little check boxes below the post (either "funny/interesting" or "lame"--we'll assume funny/interesting also means, cute, creative, fun, and any other positive descriptive your dirty little minds can come up with). I added those little boxes so my lovely readers can tell me what they like and don't like without having to go through the trouble of leaving a comment if they don't want to or don't have anything really to say. So, I urge you to please take part in my little checky boxes (now and in other posts) 1) because they are cute and 2) because I love you so much and you just want to do nice things for me because that's the kind of people you guys are. Sooooo, without further ado, here is the verse I want to use (because "Please join us in celebrating the engagement of Linz and Travis" is just so fucking lame):

One starry night, down on one knee

Travis asked Linz, "Will you marry me?"

Linz said, "Yes, you're the love of my life.

I can't wait to be your wife!"

OK, please feel free to gag repeatedly. I sure am. But, please vote or leave a comment. I appreciate ya'll!

Stressed Stressed Stressed!

I AM STRESSED! UGH!

Just Another Manic Monday

I wish it were Sunday. Oh, hell, I wish it were Friday afternoon. Again. Over and over and over. Again.

I've been on vacation for almost two whole weeks, and today is my first day back. I have a migraine. Enough said.

I just am not feeling very chipper and rested after so many days at home (a few were spent back home with my family, which is always nice). See, I have this little sleeping issue. I say "little" because, well, I'm not really much for self pity. But, really, it's a big shitty problem that I've had for, oh, say, 10 years now? No, I'm not that old. I have always had trouble sleeping. As a child, I slept at night, got up early and never ever napped. I didn't sleep in the car while we were driving--even the six hours to the beach. I didn't sleep during nap time in Kindergarten, which always got me frowny faces. ...Those bitches, I can't help it I can't sleep!... Anywho, I've been taking something to help me sleep for going on six years now. And, I think it is past its prime.

I know I was out of my routine last night when I went to bed, but it was friggin' ridiculous. It's often like that on Sunday. I lay down, and I can't get to sleep for hours. Then, when I finally do get to sleep, I wake up at 2 AM and never go back to sleep. And, it isn't like I hate my job or something. I just get very anxious on Sunday nights. On other nights, I get anxious, as well, but Sunday is the worst. I don't know why.

So, I'm really exhausted, and I just got back from a two week vacation. Of doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. But resting. Please explain this to me. I think I've decided it is shrink time. I think I'll make an appointment to see the psychiatrist. I want a sleep study. I want someone to tell me why I get highly anxious at night and no other time. What the hell is that?! I realize I'm high strung, but SERIOUSLY. Let a girl get some sleep.

Add that to the fact that I'm going to have to PAY taxes this year. Yeah, I won't be getting a single cent back, I'll be paying those good for nothing bastards. And, this is AFTER paying almost $6,000 in federal taxes alone this year. Go ahead, go calculate how much I make. Freaks. Anyway, I'm not 100% sure on that yet because I don't have my W-2, but from my paycheck stubs, it ain't looking so hot. I was so thrilled we got bonuses this year (even if our profit-where bonuses come from-was 1/3 last year's profit, for our company to be making a profit at all in our economy is amazing!). And, even though it was $1500 less than I got last year, it was still great to get anything. I was looking forward to putting some money into my savings and building it back up. Nope. Think again. That'll be going to the IRS and that son-of-a-bitch Obama with all his new ideas. Kill. Me. Now.

And, throw in a little of Travis' dad is still in the hospital. Even though he is out of ICU and the coma finally, I still miss him. And, Pepe really misses his Grandparents. We go over to feed Travis' Jack Russell, Mickey, who Pepe loves, and Pepe runs up to the house to see Mom and Dad. But no Mom and Dad is to be found. Sigh...

I guess I'm just a little down today. I've tried to pick myself up a little. I walked down five flight of stairs to the mailroom three times today. I'd walk back up, but it's hot as hell in there, and I'm fat, and I sweat. It didn't really make me feel a whole lot better. I ate a sensible lunch and don't think I gained much over the holiday, which is awesome. I've come to realize I could eat a box of donuts or a handful of broccoli and I'd gain the same amount of weight--a lot to be exact. Someone can explain that shit to me next (right after they explain my sleep issues).

Anywho, I know this is a dreaded personal post, so I'll wrap this boring shit up. But, I just wanted to write that for me. I feel a teeny bit better. Even if I still have a migraine. Ugh.

The 2008 Year in Review

So, this has been a pretty eventful year. I have painstakingly put together a recap of everything I can think of at this very moment for a "Year in Review" (please click all pictures for larger):

In January, my office basically started over. In December, the guy who had sold his business to our company left--and took all the clients with him. January was a month of getting our bearings, moving forward, and trying to figure out who our new clients might be. Most of the employees in our office left to work for the other guy, and it came down to just my boss and me. We hired a receptionist, but she didn't work out--and we need to just leave it at that.

In February, I started this blog. It sort of started out being more about me and less about what's going on around me. But, I think the "Where are you Batman?" story started changing that for me.

Over the next couple months, March and April, I wrote very few blog posts, and they have since been removed. I was dealing with a very bad situation at work, and I was having a hard time moving away from that and getting it off my mind. It didn't really have much to do with work itself but with something that happened there. Work actually started picking up because our corporate office starting giving us work. Since then, I've been working for a large client and dealing with all the intricacies of them adding more water infrastructure to a military base. I have really liked going to the base. It makes me think of my grandfather who served in the Air Force for 22 years. I still miss him a lot, and the base sort of feels like a safe and happy place for me. I do hate the drive, though. Ugh.

May saw a slight pick-up in my blogging. Things started to improve with the situation, and work was going well with the work we'd been given from corporate. I found out I had hypothyroidism, and thought that I was going to move in this wonderful direction of losing weight. I mean, I just thought it would start falling off. After all, I was eating right and exercising. I was counting every calorie. But, alas, I am still gaining. It is quite a struggle to go from 100 pounds of tiny cuteness to 200 pounds of lard ass. I have a new appreciate for the DUFF--Designated Ugly, Fat Friend--because I am one now. I got out of that soul-crushing apartment and into the house I'm renting now. It was the best decision I've made in a long time. Don't ever rent from AMLI. Ever. Travis and I had our one year anniversary. I can't believe he's put up with me this long! We went to the Melting Pot for dinner to celebrate, and it was AMAZING! That was the first time I'd ever been. I highly recommend it, but unless you are rolling in cash, save it for VERY special occasions.

June was a great month. I got to go to Savannah for the first time in my life--even though I've lived in Georgia the entire time. Fort Pulaski was awesome. I took so many wonderful pictures that I am just insanely proud of. I love taking pictures, and I am trying to get better at it--trying to make them look professional. I really, really want a new camera that is ridiculous, but we'll probably wait on that one. We ate at Seasons of Japan while we were there, and it was amazing. You HAVE to go there if you are ever in Savannah! While in Savannah, we went to Tybee Island and went to the beach for a few hours. I love the beach. We went up into the Tybee Island Lighthouse while we were there, and that was really cool.

In July, I really started getting bummed about the economy. I did get to spend some time with my brother, though, so that was cool. I spent time with a lot of my family in July because I got to go home for the 4th. I took some really cool fireworks pictures. Uga VI passed away. That was sad.

In August, the Bulldogs were predicted to go to the title game. It didn't last long. We went to Pelham to the quarry there to dive. It was amazing as usual. I love that place. It gets cold pretty fast when you hit that thermocline, but it's beautiful and clear--and a very short drive for diving! I freaked out about the Large Hadron Collider a little. I got a Crackberry, and it now ru(i)ns my life. We had a month full of birthdays. Travis' Mom's is on the 10th, Travis' is on the 14th, my Mom's is on the 20th, and my step-mom's is on the 16th. And, sadly, my grandfather had a severe stroke. He wasn't doing super great there for a while, but he's doing decent now. His speech has kind of hit a plateau it seems to me. He isn't slurring, he just doesn't enunciate well. His leg is working pretty normally, but his hand is still giving him the run-around. He's still working on it, though. My grandmother thinks he may have had another mild stroke, and my dad seems to think he isn't getting much better now. I hope it's just a plateau he will overcome soon.

In September, we went to Vortex Spring to dive. It was a little cold, but there were no thermoclines, so it was constant--and much more bearable. Just pee a little, and you'll be warm in no time! (No kidding, don't knock it if you don't dive. There are two kinds of divers: those who pee their wetsuits and those who lie about it.) After Vortex, we went to Fort Walton Beach for a day. It was amazing. I obsessed over the lesser of two evils Presidential campaign--an obsession that would lead up to a great disappointment come Nov 4th. And, tragedy struck again when Larry Munson announced his retirement. I was heartbroken. I love the "Voice of the Dawgs"! But, I got to spend some time at home and have some wild "Muskydines and Scuppendines"! I had to get my wisdom teeth removed, and I'd never had a single surgery in my life. So, I was terrified of being put to sleep. But, all went well, and I got a very nice bouquet of flowers from work. That was so thoughtful! While we were home, we went to Hoschton to see the scarecrows. They were trying to break a Guinness World Record--I think they did!

In October, my step-mom was laid off. She still hasn't gotten a job. Where are you now, Obama? But, we got to go to the Atlanta Botanical Garden and see the Sculpture in Motion exhibit, so at least some good came from the month. Speaking of plants, that was the month the giant mushroom tried to take over my yard. Them little shits are still trying to get me, but I kick their ass whenever they come up! And, of course, we had a fun Halloween. I went as Sarah Palin.

I turned 24 in November. I have to say, that wasn't all that fun. Less fun, though, was finding out that Travis' Dad had colon cancer. He went into the hospital on Nov 6th for surgery. After 22 days and 2 surgeries, he got to go home (that was the day after Thanksgiving). Unfortunately, they readmitted him the following Wednesday, and he has had 2 more surgeries and is now in ICU in a drug induced coma. He has sepsis (blood infection) and is having a really hard time. He is cancer free, but he is having some terrible complications from surgery. But, we had a nice Thanksgiving with my step-mom's family, even though I hate going up there, and I wanted to spend it with my family. And, we spent Thanksgiving evening with Travis' family in the hospital. This was also when someone rear-ended Travis' 1965 Mustang. It still isn't fixed. Ugh. On a lighter note, I got my Chubby Snowman, which I love hugging! And, I got some lovely stockings embroidered with Travis', Pepe's, and my names. And, I put my tree up before Thanksgiving because I was so excited about the holidays. Sue me. Finally, Travis and I got engaged on Thanksgiving Day. It was supposed to be for my birthday, but he didn't ask my Dad for his blessing, so I made him wait until he did. Ha.

December has been filled with trying to get into the Christmas spirit despite a year with a lot of setbacks and sad days. It is especially hard with Travis' Dad being in the hospital. He and Travis' Mom spent Thanksgiving there, their 40th wedding anniversary there, and are now going to spend Christmas and New Year's there. And, Mom's house is where we go all the time--especially for holidays--so we're all really bummed and getting exhausted from that 6+ week ordeal.

But, now, I guess it's time to get ready for a new year. Let's hope it's a good, happy, and exciting one!

Gone and Done It

Well, it is finally done.

And, he most definitely did NOT go to Jared. I hate those f'ing commercials!

Nervous Breakdown in Five, Four...

OK, so, I know, I've been posting a lot of personal shit lately. And, I know, you don't give a rats ass about it. And, I know I say I hate to post this shit, and yet I keep doing it over and over again. And, I know I'm going to lose my two readers if I keep this shit up, but, shit, I've got shit to say. I just want to say "shit" one more time. Shit.

I am seriously at the point where I'm starting to think "What the fuck else ya got, asshole world? What the fuck else? Huh? What?" I mean, if it's not one thing it's another, and I'm about to lose it. Whatever it is.

We won't even talk about the possible horrificness that is the next four years. I don't think I can stomach it. I might just have a stroke, heart attack, aneurysm, seizure, or any combination of the four. I'd probably rather be catatonic for the next four years, but I gots bills to pay. Not that I'll have any money to pay them since Obama is going to give all my money to the worthless, lazy fucks who don't work. And, I'm the selfish one who wants to keep my fucking money. Ugh! I said we weren't going to talk about this. Now, look what you've made me do. Enough.

Of course, there is the issue of Travis' dad having surgery tomorrow. I say Travis' dad like he isn't my dad. But he is. For all intents and purposes. Travis and I are not married, as much as I'd like to be right now because these assholes at work are making me take vacation instead of sick time to be out for Dad's surgery because he isn't technically family. I call bullshit. I'm sorry, but my idea of vacation is not sitting in a hospital all damn day worrying about someone you fucking love, like, a whole lot. I sure as hell am not going to come back to work rested and relaxed, if you catch my drift. So, not only am I six inches from an anxiety attack about Dad's surgery, but I'm pissed because I'm having to waste precious vacation time--time that I could be using during the Holidays to spend time with my family I never get to see because I'm fucking two hours away. But, noooo, I get to spend it sitting at a hospital worrying all fucking day, and giving myself an ulcer, instead. Sorry, Dad, Mom, Granny and Pawpaw, Grandma, Sissy, Bubby, etc., etc., I won't get to spend Christmas with you. Awesome.

And, then, there is my actual dad. He's got Crohn's Disease or something, and he won't let them stick that thing up his butt to do the colonoscopy, so now I'm terrified that MY dad will get colon cancer, and he won't even know, and he'll just die. At, like, 50. And, what the hell am I going to do then? Tell me. Please. Because I don't have a clue.

And, then, last night, Travis gets rear-ended after work. He's OK. But, let me just give you the transcript of the first few minutes of that ordeal:

Travis and Linz on the phone.

Linz: "Blah, blah, blah, dinner, blah, your parents, blah, Longhorn, blah, after class, blah, blah, last big meal before his surgery, blah, blah, blah."

Travis: "Yeah."

SMACK.

Travis: "I just got in a wreck. I gotta go."

Linz: "Shit. What happened? Was it your fault?"

Travis: "No, he rear-ended me. I gotta go."

Travis and Linz hang up.

Linz thinks/talks to herself: "At least he's in a truck, so he didn't get hurt. SHIT. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, FUCKING SHIT. HE'S IN THE MUSTANG. Oh, he is going to be so pissed! Oh, shit, he's gotta get a police report. Before he kills the guy."

Linz calls Travis.

Linz: "You have have have have to get a police report."

Travis: "OK, I gotta go."

Linz: "Get a police report even if there isn't much damage."

Travis: "OK, I gotta go."

Linz: "Get a police report!"

Travis hangs up.

So, I'm assuming Travis is killing the guy while I'm sitting here wondering myself into a coronary about what happened and if his car is OK (I'm not that shallow, I could just tell Travis was fine by how he sounded). The Mustang I'm talking about is a 1965. Yeah, that's what I said. 19 fucking 65. His baby. The car he's had for, like, ten years. Let's put that into perspective: I haven't even been driving for ten years. So, anyway, at least he didn't kill the guy. Travis said he looked like he was about to start bawling, and he thought he was about to get his ass handed to him, but Travis kept his cool. All I can say is he's a better man than me. I'da killed the sombitch.

So, anyway, when it rains it pours. And, I just don't think I can handle anymore this week. So, if you hate me and you want to cuss me out for all these ridiculous personal posts, please wait until next week. And, if Dad's surgery goes poorly, well, you better just forget it. I'll be unavailable.

Think Pink

In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I've decided to share an article from what used to be my local paper. In this article, the writer goes for her first mammogram. It is a very well written article, and I liked it very much. Being in my 20's, I've never had a squashogram. I can, however, relate to the fear of having something wrong with your lady parts. (And, no, you assholes, I did not have an STD.) Ladies, if you are over 40, now is the time to start. I know you must be scared, and I know you don't want your boobies squished, but please go have a mammogram. It can save your life. Gentlemen, please talk to your wife, friend, sister, aunt, mother, or any lady in your life who is over 40. She needs to have an exam. As quoted in the article I mentioned above, the following is from a poster at St. Mary's Diagnostic, Rehab and Wellness Center (Athens,GA):

A Mammogram is About:

Making a healthy choice
Appreciating womanhood
Mission to save lives
Message of strength and empowerment
October is breast cancer awareness month
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Muskydines and Scuppendines

With today and yesterday being so cool, I thought I better post this before we forget summer. When I went home to see my grandfather this weekend, I got a nice little surprise. As I was walking up the front walkway at my grandparents' house, I caught this amazing smell. And, it hit me, MUSCADINES! Of course, in the south, it's pronounced "muskydines". I asked my grandmother if she would mind if I stole a few--as in, the entire vine--and, of course, she said no. But, my grandfather, who is talking decently well, most of the time, told me I wanted the scuppernongs, pronounced "scuppendines" for you non-southerners. He was right. They were better than the muscadines, which shouldn't even be possible, since the muscadines were already amazing--heavenly even. It felt like a different time and place while I picked my grocery bag full of muscadines--one without so many problems, one without Obama. I didn't get as many scuppernongs because I was afraid of getting stung (allergic). The vines on the scuppernongs are thicker, and the grapes are hidden more. It was easier to get the muscadines, so I got a lot more of those. I made myself ration the scuppernongs. I'd eat 10 muscadines, and then allow myself a scuppernong. It was worth it.

Blast from the Past

These were taken in 1999. I was 14. It's funny how much younger I look in the cheerleading one (that was my competition uniform). The pictures were only taken, like, a month apart. I highlighted my hair right before school started that year (freshman year--gotta look hot). I guess that made me look older. I still look 12. But, look how tiny I was then. Those were the good old days. For sure.

Talladega Tank Monkey (Wannabe)

I got to drive to the lovely Talladega, AL, yesterday. It is a truly beautiful place. It's hard to believe that twice a year, it is covered in drunk, sweaty, obnoxious rednecks (which I totally admit to being on a daily basis, and I'd love to be one of those lucky bastards sometime, but tickets are so hard to get). It was mildly amusing to me that the "gas station" was about 10% gas station and about 90% souvenir store. It was rather cute, actually. They do love their Nascar! But, the real beauty of Talladega is on a South-bound road. As I was driving South on Alabama Hwy 77, I looked up into the far away view, and I saw the most inspiring mountains. The ridge stretched for quite a long ways wide, and there were several layers of it that were farther and farther out. It looked like a painting. The closest was darker blue. Above it, there was a medium blue farther out. And above that, a light blue--almost the color of the clear sky--farther out. It really made me stop and just appreciate driving in the country. I wish I had the sense got gave a gnat because I would have pulled over to take a damn picture. But I forgot my camera, anyway, so, oh, well.

The reason I was in this fairly tale land was not so charming. I was in Talladega to climb into some hot, wet, icky water tanks. These tanks had been out of service for quite some time, and the water department wants to put them back into service. So, we were there to inspect them. This was my first chance to be a tank monkey. I've always secretly wanted to be a tank monkey, but I was still really scared. It's a long fall if your ass slips. Luckily, these tanks were ground level, but from the hatch on top of the concrete tank, you'd be falling around 25 feet to the concrete floor below. That would not make for a good day. I was feeling like puking by the time I was supposed to be getting into the first tank (it was hot!). And, like I said, these tanks hadn't been used for a long time. The hatches were welded shut, and had to be cut off. The ladders on the inside were rusted and coming off the wall. So, I'm already scared shitless. And, then, I get in. I'm excited. I'm really excited. But, I can't reach the next rung on the ladder. I reposition myself. I stretch. I look down. I'm an inch away. But. I. Just. Can't. Reach. Damn! The problem is that there is a top ladder attached to the hatch area (which is about two and a half feet of concrete on top of the roof), and there is a ladder that goes the rest of the way down to the floor. They are not connected, and the gap from the bottom rung of the top ladder and the top rung of the bottom ladder is not the standard distance. The rule is that if you don't feel safe don't do it.

I want to believe that I really tried to reach that rung. Maybe I did. I hope I did. I felt like I did. But maybe there was a part of me that was too scared to keep going. What if I slipped? What if I fell? What if I died right there in a concrete water tank in Talladaga, AL? It just wasn't worth it. I hope I get another chance to be a tank monkey. I really think it is pretty cool. I have a lot of respect for people who do that crap all day every day (like the contractor who was out there cleaning out those tanks getting them ready for us to inspect).

Note: While looking for pictures of cute, little monkeys to put on here, I realized there are some scary looking monkeys out there! Do it. Google "monkey" (in images) and see what scary shit you get. Don't say I didn't warn you. Those little bastards are freaks!

The Remix to the Remix

Because I'm feeling like a rapper who can't come up with new lyrics, I'm gonna break you off with a little remix to the remix. I made a collage of some pictures of hair I like. Please give me some thoughts and feedback (you can click on it to see a full sized version). I need something new!

This is the Remix

So, I'm tired of the same old crap, and I'd really like to get my hair cut differently (same color!). I'm got a few pictures of ones I like, but they are still really close to what I already have. I want a new 'do. It's time for the remix. I want something new and fresh, but not too drastic. Send me your ideas. Please!