Well Honestly Now

Brace yourself.  It’s a negative one.

Im off sugar and flour.  17 days.  At first it was hard but got easier after that.  Then it hit the fan.  Yesterday and today are living hell.  Living hell is too kind a term.  I’m hot but hot like warm wet wool on a 100 degree day.  My body is literally vibrating.  I have chills and goosebumps and can’t stop sweating.  I am mentally fixated on Fritos.  I look like I have the chemo sweats.  Green and kinda shiny.  The walls are closing in and my anxiety is as high as Amy Winehouse.  I am freaking out, feeling trapped, racing heart and racing mind.  Just…Fuck.

I think it’s time for it to be over between us.  I’ve loved you for so long-can’t really imagine you not being a part of my life.  But somewhere along the way, being with you meant I lost me.  I think it was a progression of sorts.  At first you were just there and I didn’t know any other way.  But over time you took up more and more of me.  I couldn’t go a day, an hour without you.  You are my heroin.

Update:  I wrote this a couple weeks ago.  The first few days were heartbreaking.  I didn’t think I could live without you.  Now, I can kind of envision a life free of your evil ways.  It’s still difficult and I think of you all the time.  When I think of getting back with you, I realize that’s just my addiction talking.

In New York City, restaurants are now banned from serving foods with artificial trans fats in them.  The entire state of California has followed suit.  It surprises me that Arnie signed the bill…  Have you seen pics of him at the beach lately?  Let’s just say it looks like he’s never met a pre-2003 Oreo that he didn’t like.  But I’m off track here.

Firstly, what is an artificial trans fat?  In a high in Omega-3 nutshell, its vegetable oil that has been solidified to increase shelf-life.  Why are they bad for us?  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that consuming solidified fat is the approximate equivalent of applying grout to our artery walls.

Here is where it all goes wrong for me.  I get that trans fats are Satan’s work.  So are cigarettes and pollution.  What I don’t understand is that the same people who feel so strongly that a woman has a right to make decisions about her own uterus don’t seem to be as protective of their aortas.  If you believe that the government shouldn’t legislate what you do to your body, you cannot support the Trans Fat Ban.

True enough, a pregnancy won’t give you a heart attack (though you should’ve seen me when I got a plus sign on my EPT when I was preggo w/ Veruca…whoo…that was ugly).  But it isn’t really about what the substance does to you.  If that were the issue, how could cancer sticks cigarettes still be legal?    Here are the options:  A)  Support government intervention in your life and your body.  Allow our leaders to determine what we consume,  reproductive decisions, etc.  or B)  Stand up and say “This is my body”.  No one is going to tell me if Im going to have a baby, be fat or get lung cancer”.

Why does the government care?  We don’t have a national health care system so it isn’t costing Uncle Sam to unclog all these arteries.  Here is where the conspiracy theorist in me kicks in.   Banning artery grout means having to use a lot more vegetable oil.  One of the appeals of trans fats was that a restaurant could use the oil for weeks (yum!).  With the new rules in place, oil must be changed out much more regularly.  Buy more oil.  The Department of Agriculture has recommended guidelines regarding trans fats (basically, run!).  Incidentally, making trans fats illegal and keeping tobacco products legal both benefit the Dept. of Agr. so please don’t think that Big Brother cares about you personally.

Is it smart to consume lots of trans fats?  No.  Is it frightening that the US government is taking the decision out of our hands?  Terrifyingly so.

I didn’t redecorate my kitchen in light blue geese decor.  I didn’t join the local cross-stitching gang.  I haven’t decided to opt for Nurse Mates over well…just about anything else.  My vocabulary still doesn’t involve such words as “newfangled” and “whippersnapper” unless I’m making fun of someone of course.  And sweet Jesus I haven’t bought a minivan.  In other words, I haven’t lost my mind.  This is my blog default template - just temporary and not my vision of snazzy.  You will probably witness many psychadelic things here over the next couple of days weeks months but fear not…its part of the process that is my insanity website.

Just like Bubba trusted me…see where that got him?

The Obsceni

Went to the beach.  As we approached the gate to pay for parking (should be illegal) it turned black.  Rain.  Turn around and drove home.  Went to Hellmart to buy special 50 gallon storage tubs I need.  Out of stock.  Found pudding though.  And that makes me happy.  Got milk, bread and jewelry cleaner too.  Came home.  No pudding in bag.  This day sucks.

Aspie stepped on the scale today; frustrated to see no change in the number.  Lamenting about his inability to gain weight, he turned to me and said “Mom…how did you do it?  What were your tricks for getting heavier?”  Well I started by eating fresh children while their bones were still soft…

Isn’t the real crime that he was eating at a Subway?

Sub par sauce story

Why is it that the mothers sacrifice so much?  Please, to my male readers, don’t email me with your list of things you’ve given up since being a parent.  Yeah, you’re great, you do so much blah blah blah.  Pushed an avocado through your urethra lately?  Ok, ok- children absolutely take a toll on both parents.  Everything changes- finances (don’t have any), sex(don’t have any), general freedom (don’t have any).  But mothers-ok this mother- has given up her very self.  I don’t even know who I am anymore.  Dear lord I bought a Cover Girl lipstick the other day…I’m that far gone.  The career is gone but really the task and the paycheck have just changed.  I used to stare down a construction manager as I named my price.  Fearless.  Unflinching and unblinking.  Now the construction manager is 3 feet tall with corkscrew hair and a bad attitude but equally if not moreso scary.  I used to help build buildings and now I build people.  The difference is that I’m not on a 36 month production schedule that will wrap up with a big dinner party and a grand opening.  I don’t know when (if) this punch list of parenting will ever come to an end.  When will I see that they are well put together with strong foundations and sophisticated accoutrements?  Where is the reward?  I’m sure when Aspie builds the first functional time machine I’ll have my Oprah So This Is What It Is All About Moment.  But what do I do while the first functional time machine is in development?  Gah…really not a sentence I thought I would ever hear myself say.

When I was doing the job for money I had self worth.  Importance.  I was someone.  My compensation now is a peanut butter hand in my hair or a doggy kiss up my bicep (incidentally, GROSS).  And it feels meaningless to me.  I know they are happy customers and maybe that is my kudos (read:salary).  Why did I have a sense of identity when I got a W-2 and I was helping to crowd the skyline but forming a freaking human being somehow feels unimportant?  My family seems satisfied.  But why didn’t anyone warn me that all their satisfaction would come at the cost of me?  I guess if I am fair, back when I was someone, my career cost me all of me too.  I lived on caffeine, drove a minimum of 3 hours a day and couldn’t sleep because I was busy playing conversations I had during the day over and over in my mind and had to count all the syllables of everything that was said and had to keep counting until saying everything frontwards and backwards ended in an even number.  Wow- you never realize how fucked up you are until you type that shit out.

So blah, blah, whine, whine.  I know it can be done.  The goal is to find me without losing them.  Moderation.  Not taking from one bank to give to another.  Oy-how very self helpish of me.  I should write a book.  koob a etirw dluohs I.  13 syllables.  And I’m lettin it go…