You know how sometimes you forget to reply to a friends text. Then a few days pass. Then it has been way too long so it would be awkward to reply now? HI! Here’s my awkward reply!
I’ve never had the intention of stopping my blog. I have just been… lazy. Like tired. After work, I want to come home and watch youtube videos mindlessly. I have lots of great ideas for posts, but I can’t write them from work and I just want to rest in the evening. So I haven’t been. Perhaps that can change with me working from home on Mondays and Tuesdays.
There was even an update on the crazy motorcycle debacle. Remember they had caught the driver? Well, he had a fuck ton of warrants. INCLUDING MURDER IN THE SECOND DEGREE. So high quality people here. They let him out on bond.
YES THEY DID.
He was arrested in Kentucky. They don’t give a fuck about the Tennessee warrants. So they let him out on bond. Because someone of that caliber will certainly honor their court date. Obviously. Yeah. I’m told that some police departments just don’t want to deal with them so they just let them out and hope they get out of their hair.
No wonder people do this. They’re just robbing everyone and making a killing with $10k a pop dirt bikes and Uhaul vans!
I was honestly so upset when this happened that I couldn’t post about it. SECOND DEGREE MURDER. Caught with a stolen Uhaul van, a stolen dirt bike, and trying to use more stolen credit cards to buy more dirt bikes. Eh, let him out. Not our problem.
The below Facebook post was in my memories for today. 2020 was a dark time, y’all. And this was BEFORE mom died. Fuck.
What’s funny is, I still remember being robbed in Animal Crossing, cause that cut deep. That was a place of happy innocent retreat for everyone. So getting robbed on fucking Animal Crossing of ALL THINGS. For fucks sake. How low can people be? You gonna rob people on a kids game when they’re giving you free shit. I’m still bitter about it. This is why I hate people, yall. People are bad.
But I actually forgot about the jaw thing. After the car wreck that wrecked my brain, my jaw would sometimes make a piercingly loud noise when I opened my mouth wide. It bothered husband. I think just because it was so jarring. At some point though, it appears to have stopped!
We never “fixed” the jaw issue, for the record. The physical therapist determined that it wasn’t anything harmful, just annoying. Probably cartilage built up funny when I hurt it in the accident. He said it might wear down and stop. Looks like he was right. Can’t remember the last time it made that noise. (*Que me opening my mouth wide while I type*) Neisen Physical Therapy was awesome. Wish I could afford to go get dry needling and neck work done on the regular. My neck has regressed a lot since therapy.
~~~ START: FACEBOOK POST – AUGUST 05, 2020 ~~~
I’m crying because I got robbed in animal Crossing. I let people in to have my saved up DIY recipes. For free. Someone took all my fossils and harvested the money trees I had around my town square. And yes, everyone agrees it’s my fault. But I didn’t expect to get fleeced in a fucking ANIMAL CROSSING GAME when I was being generous. And I have duplicates of almost all the fossils anyway, had they asked, I’d have given them full dinosaurs.
OK, so I didn’t cry over Animal Crossing. Not really. It’s literally the straw that broke the camels back. The tiniest most insignificant thing that just broke the levy.
There’s just too much going on. I’ve got an interview tomorrow which is awesome, right? But The last phone interview I didn’t get. It’s like the first interview I’ve done where I didn’t get a job offer. Seriously. So I’m like WTF? Did I lose my interview mojo? I’m freaking out now.
But I feel good about the job prospect but it opens a flood gate of other things: 1) back to work. I’ve been out of work since October and to go back to working 9 hour days and waking up early and being tired all the time and not having time to take care of things again? Ugh. And how will it affect my head aches? We don’t know.
Speaking of headaches, now when I can’t figure something out, I don’t know if it’s brain damage or normal. Seriously. I have to ask Husband sometimes. Like why can’t I grasp this? Is this normal?
And the ENT thinks I could benefit from more physical therapy. I’m fine with that, I thought physical therapy was working great on my neck and we finally literally THAT last appointment identified the jaw issue from the wreck. The one that causes my jaw to make obnoxiously loud noises every once and a while that bug Husband. LOL. But he decided my progress was too slow and fucking gave up on me. Can’t trust any body.
Not your lawyer either. Shitty ass lawyer. Now we’re in a lawsuit just to try to recover my lost wages — not even damages or anything. And not even the fact that i lost my job. We’re only asking for what I was due till May when the doctor said I should try work part time.
And never trust a fucking company. I’ve told so many people that and then I fell in love with Boecore. And I trusted them. And I love working for my friend, F. And they were awesome for a few months. They told me ‘oh we’ll keep you on as long as you’re making progress” — then all the sudden with NO WARNING, I get a “we’re laying you off next week” phone call. What the fuck was that? You couldn’t have told me a month ago? Some warning would be nice.
But at Least I have Husband’s insurance to fall back on. But then now there’s a deductible that has to be met. Which is why I can’t afford to go back to physical therapy. I need to go to the gastroenterologist too but I can’t afford that either. I can’t afford shit. I was upset and lonely the other day missing my fair-weather friends and Mexican food when Husband suggested Chuy’s take out But we really shouldn’t because it’s cheaper to cook.
We’ve been set back huge financially. And we thought we’d get my missed wages back, but we won’t. We were deceived. Now we’re set back on our plan of where we expected to be right now. And I know, Husband assures me we’re treading water and won’t lose the house — but we lost HALF OUR INCOME. We can’t go on forever like this. And this is my house Mine. Mine mine mine mine. I’d see it bulldozed before I thought of someone else living in it. I can’t fathom it! I was here every day it was being built. I designed it. I picked literally every single color and finish and tile in here. I sat in my bedroom and watched the sunset before there was even sheet rock.
My psychiatrist says this is all temporary. And logically I kinda know it is. BUT WHAT IF IT’S NOT? How long will it go on? How long can it go on? I miss people. I miss eating out. I miss having money.
And anyone who dares to think I didn’t earn my pay and this house can come say it straight to my fucking face because I will gladly let off some steam. I went to school for 9 years to get that damn degree. All the while being mocked for being “forever a student” even jokingly by my own family. I’ve built my career for near 15 years. I earned that pay check. Every penny.
Why can’t you trust anyone? Lawyers, employers, insurers, the general public that won’t take vaccines or wear face masks. Why can’t people just be good?
Who steals shit in ANIMAL CROSSING FOR FUCKS SAKE? Are you serious with me?
Well praise Jesus for a napping husband to sob on. He’s sweet and loving and not something I remotely earned. And Jack. I’ll go hug Jack.
I saw this question on Reddit and thought, this is a fun thought exercise! Usually, it’s what would you tell your younger self and not the other way around.
First, 13 year old me would have some issues.
Like why the fuck are you married? You’re gonna “submit” and “rely” on a man? Fuck that. (I’d probably call myself a pussy, but 40-year-old-me has been informed that’s a no-go word now).
Why are you crazy? Suck it up, buttercup. What do you have to be sad about? (13 year old me had a lot of denial and buried trauma).
I’d be disappointed that I was still “fat.” However, I’d also be pleased greatly with my shape. I’m actually at LEAST 50lbs lighter than 13 year old me if not more like 100lbs. Also, I got rid of the belly pudge and installed nice boobs! If I can’t get skinny, at least I get more shapely.
I’d be crazy impressed with my wealth. I live in a nice house, have a pool, and OWN my car! WHAT? *fist bump*
Lastly, I’d think my sleeve tattoo was really cool.
Further down in the Reddit thread, someone commented about telling their younger self to worry less about money and more about happiness.
I’m not sure I would tell young me that. I literally picked my career in 8th grade in one day. I looked up the top projected earning careers and picked the one that suits my strengths. Math and Science. (I went Computer Science).
Do I like it? Eh. Do I have lots of money? Yeah.
I mean I don’t hate it, but it is in no way a passion. I like the puzzle aspect of coding sometimes. But like, it’s no art or craft job. I just do a fuck ton of paperwork now. I’m damn good at it and someone has to do it.
But like, I grew up below the poverty line and two family bankruptcies before highschool. I just wanted out. Sometimes I think I should have aimed for happiness too. But… I can still do my hobbies on the side so… *shrug*
So I’ve been taking excellent care of my tattoo. Only the best lotions and sunscreens. Long sleeves if I’m swimming. Excellent care.
So it occurred to me, I could actually take care of my face too. Right now, in mid summer, my face doesn’t look terrible. That’s because it seems swimming in the pool helps my complexion. Usually though, I have zits and tons of ingrown hairs. PCOS gives me chin and lip and sideburn hair that has to be shaved daily. Every day. So when there’s a zit or something, there’s never time for it to heal. It’s getting shaved over every single day. I don’t wear makeup daily so this makes me very self conscious.
I’ve also got a secret, I don’t use lotion. Yep (or nope?) I never developed a skin care regimen. I don’t even know where to start. But like, I decided I should try it on my face. So I went through all the subscription box stuff I just tossed in drawers over the years and googled easy facial routines. Now I’m doing a routine. Evening: Wash, Toner, Serum, Lotion. Morning: Wash, Lotion with sunscreen. I’m so fancy! So apparently you need cotton rounds to apply toner. So I bought some. But like, these are ugly. How shall I store this?
Oh yeah. That’s right. I’ve been married over a decade, and I finally have a good use for my old leather condom box. Magnificent. I’m so chuffed with my condom box.
Anyway, I’m making an effort here. Does anyone have any advice for sunscreen lotion? I bought some for $18 and it burns my eyes just like every god damn sunscreen I’ve ever put on my face. The only sunscreen I can use on my face is Sun Bum stick. It’s so solid that it doesn’t move or sweat. It’s on ’til you wipe that shit off. Everything else eventually ends up in my eye corners and burns! Help!
I gotta get this written out before I forget everything that happened Wednesday. Thankfully, I texted my husband a lot so I have notes.
So Wednesday did not start out great. I fell asleep after turning off my alarms. I was having a semi-bad dream. I say semi-bad because it’s pretty norm. For some reason a big ongoing thing in my dreams is always my car brakes not working. Not necessarily a complete failure but being where I’m standing on the brake pedal trying to come to a complete stop but still having a slow roll and can’t stop on point. So I was giving a new coworker a ride home. She had a downward slopped drive and I couldn’t stop soon enough and just barely bumped her bros car. No damage, but I feel like shit so I agree to at least get them dinner. So I’m going to order them pizza. Oddly I remember that one of the pizzas was a dessert pizza that had Andes Mints and sesame seeds. My husband loves Andes Mints.
So I drive away and decide to pull over to order the pizzas. I pull over at Bass Pro Shops — but it was a tiny one. Then I hear a meow in the back seat.
JACK!?
I literally woke up and screamed “Jack!?”
OK, it wasn’t Jack. Louie was being a good boy and pissed that I was obviously sleeping too late for his favor. So he was meowing at me. Thanks, boy. So I was late to work.
My Wednesdays are oddly slow because it’s the only day I don’t have any set meetings. So work was pretty chill. I decided to argue with Amazon. First, Louie’s treats didn’t arrive. I know it was a lie that they were delivered because it said left on porch by door when they would have fit in my mailbox. Liars. I hope whoever stole my package doesn’t even have a cat! They were cool though and agree to just replace it and sent out some more. They got here today, actually — and IN THE MAILBOX. Thanks Amazon. (BTW, I can only find these treats at Walmart and even then only in Chicken. I can get a variety of three flavors online).
While I was on a roll, I decide to argue my meat sticks case. Listen, I’m not a huge jerky person but I’m keto. So I have found that I like the Jacks Links Pepperoni Beef Sticks. They’re expensive so I order them online as well by the case to save some money. So no surprise that Amazon recommended Jacks Links in Spicy Pepperoni to me. They were half the size so half the price so I used the “buy now” button. I like spicy things.
A week later I get an email that my package is delayed at customs. Wait, what? So I look up my orders and the beef sticks are coming from CANADA. With the hefty shipping fee of $29.00! WTF? I never saw the shipping fee because I used the buy now button. Why would Amazon recommend something from Canada where the shipping is as much as the item? I buy all my shit on Prime shipping for “free.” So I decide to bring it up. I use the chat online feature. Super nice lady Shreya says, it’s cool, they’ll refund the shipping cost. I make sure it’s not on the seller, because it’s Amazons fault — not theirs. I got the product. The problem is it should never have been recommended to me. I was happy for the refund but im skeptical so I screenshot the convo before it went away.
Shreya calms my concerns about the seller suffering by telling me that she “understand[s my] concern. Please do not worry. You’ve my word. You can definitely put your trust in me.” Maybe that’s why I screenshot it. That’s a lot of comfort there, Shreya.
Then I get an email from the seller asking why I want a refund. I look at our conversation history and Customer Service just sent and email that I wanted a refund. He offers me a $15 refund (half shipping). I explain to the seller what happened and that I did not want a refund from them in anyway. This is Amazons fault and they should fix it. I share the screenshot with him as proof and turn down his offer of $15. If Bezos can fly to space with William Shatner in a metal penis, he can damn well honor when his algorithm makes a mistake. Not put it on some poor small business.
So I chat up Customer Service again. This time I have to use a different option to get an agent because I already used “problem with order.” So this time I used “Found cheaper somewhere else” (LIKE AMERICA) and then clicked “other.” I explained the problem to the new chat guy. He gives me a copy paste about how Amazon doesn’t price match. I told him yeah, OK, did you read the messages I sent just now? Motherfucker ENDS CHAT. Hell no.
So I use another option of complaint. This time I request a call. I was on the phone with some Indian guy for a good while. He was nice. Just a lot of putting me on hold, really. I assume he was getting permission to credit me. He said they would credit me $30 to cover the shipping. Awesome. We’ll see if that happens. I emailed the guy and told him what happened and that he should not be asked for any refund for my purchase and to let me know immediately if Amazon tried to pull some shady shit. He thanked me and wished me a good weekend.
During all this I was also fielding calls with my doctors office because my thyroids out of whack. So last appointment we knew it was too high. But like barely too high. So he said, see how you feel. 2 months later and I feel insanely hungry when I shouldn’t and my heart feels funny. One, I don’t like when my heart feels funny. It seems like a bad thing in general. Also my stomach is like EAT, BITCH. And I’m like dude, we had lunch 30 minutes ago! And my stomachs like FUCK YOU! So it’s not even an “I want to eat” — it’s my stomach grumbling for food. So yall need to fix this shit.
This should be simple. I’ve been with my doctor for 20 years. I know the nurse. He told me if I feel off, call and he’ll adjust the dosage. So I call and request A, his nurse. Only the receptionist wants to know EVERY FUCKING DETAIL including drugs and dosages. And she couldn’t spell the drugs either, I had to google them and spell them out for her. You know why? Cause she’s not a nurse, shes a fucking receptionist! So she tells me I’ll have to come in for labs. No, bitch. Have A call me.
So the A calls me and says the idiot didn’t even look over to see that she was just sitting there and could have taken the phone. She tells me that lady is a bit special. I think I might complain that that bitch doesn’t need my private medical history when I call. But anyway, A is on it. New dosage incoming. Gotta pick it up after work. That’s cool cause I need deli meat for my work lunches anyway.
So About an hour before I leave work, I order ahead on the Publix app for my deli meat. I ask my husband if he wants anything so I order him a sub too. They should be ready at 5:30. Sweet. So I get to the store around 6. Oh look whats not ready! I don’t know why they offer order ahead — it’s literally NEVER READY. There wasn’t even a single person in line. They just hadn’t done my order yet. That’s cool. It’s not like this doesn’t always happen. I wait about 5 minutes and then I’m like “hey, can I go get the rest of my groceries and swing back?” They’re cool with that. Awesome.
So I go over to the pharmacy. I had already prepaid and signed for my pills in the app. So I hop over to the “prepaid pickup” area. Does anyone in the pharmacy give a fuck? No. They take care of the entire 3 person line of other customers before they even acknowledge me. ALL I NEED IS YOU TO HAND ME MY BAG. This is why I started texting husband that Publix was trying kill me. Anyway, I get my new thyroid hormones and grab my groceries and head back to the deli.
Husbands sandwich is in the case but not my deli meat. So I ask them about it. “Are you Mrs C?” “Yes” “We’re out of that ham.” I admit I did say “Well, you could have told me that two hours ago” — he replied with “I just got off break maam.” Touche.
Seriously, these people have my phone number. They just had me standing there for over 5 minutes earlier. Then they also had the store speaker but no one tells me they can’t fulfill my order. Now I’m texting husband even more because dammit, I’m not gonna break. So I request a DIFFERENT ham. Wait around and break guy hands me some turkey. I look at it and –seriously very politely – say “Oh hey, this isn’t mine.” He asks again if I’m Mrs C. I say yes. He says this is what I ordered on the app and proceeds to read me the label. I apologize and think maybe I did click the wrong thing on the app so I ask him to give me a minute to pull up my email and see what I ordered (cause if I ordered then wrong thing, fine, I’ll pay for it). But I didn’t.
“Yeah no, I ordered the Boars Head Peppenero Ham and a sub.” “I already told you we’re out of that ham.”
Motherfucker.
I literally texted my husband that I think I’m on a prank show and they’re trying to see how much shit I can take. I tell him I know, that’s why I asked for the Boars Head Garlic Parmesan instead. This is TURKEY. It takes a woman coming out of the cooler to tell him that that’s not mine before he proceeds to actually get me what I’m asking for. Like I’m not even looking at them at this point because I’m texting furiously with my husband trying to keep my cool. I don’t want to yell or become a “Karen.”
So then I head to the registers. There’s two “10 items or less” lanes and one regular lane open. So I head for the regular lane. I’m not gonna be that person with the full cart in the 10 items lane. It’s blocked by a stock trolley full of stock. But the cashier and bagger are sitting there like dumbasses waiting for someone to come up – even though the other lanes have massive lines. There’s actually a lot of workers around so I ask a passing worker if lane two is closed. She looks at the light and the cashier eagerly awaiting customers and cheerily says “no! it’s open!” I’m nearing breaking point so I say, in as fake a positive voice as I can, “then can you have someone move all this SHIT?”
So she goes and gets someone to move it. Here’s how crowded the other lines are. Even though I’m right there and the one who asked for assistance, an old man ducks in there before I can. He looks at me all exasperated and comments how all these workers are just standing around and no one thinks to move that thing!
MOTHERFUCKER, WHY DIDN’T YOU MENTION IT THEN?
By then I had called my husband for emotional support. I told him if the car doesn’t start then I’m just walking home and he can come get this shit. Thankfully the car started, but someone speeding through the parking lot did try to kill me on the way out.
I went to the Tattoo Expo with K and her boyfriend. I’ve never been to a tattoo expo. We saw some work by legit amazing artists. Then there was one guy who wanted us to get these tiny flash for $200. Are you kidding me? You want to do 10 minutes of line work for $200? NO.
So today ran from 2:00 – midnight. So I figured it would be better in the evening. So we met up at 6:30. And guess what? We missed the good stuff! WHAT THE FUCK? I’m legit going to complain to the organizers. We couldn’t find a schedule for this show anywhere. Big fancy website, no schedules. I even went the the circus people’s website (sword swallowers and stuff) to see if they had a schedule. Nope. Walk in and the first thing they give me is a lovely laminated schedule hour by hour for the whole weekend. Oh look, we missed the circus by an hour! DAMMIT. I’m legit pissed about this schedule thing.
Anyway, none of us were really shopping for tattoos. There were 200 tattooists there from all over. And they do tattoos right there. But I’ve got plenty of work to do on mine as it is. But I tell ya, I did see a lot of flash I liked.
There was a booth of a lady selling crystals — like carved crystals and jewelry and stuff. So K and I were looking at the necklaces. I asked her what was good for anxiety and she hands me a white one. Like the most boring of the stones. But she says it’s good for anxiety and getting rid of negative energy. She said it basically says fuck off to bad energy. Oooo. Give me. The card said it was good for sleep too. White Howlite.
According to some random internet search: “It can help reduce your levels of stress and anger, and dispel anger that is directed towards you from others. Howlite works by absorbing negative energy and filling the void with calming properties that help you feel at peace.”
A vibrator necklace and a Disney bag. Choose a lane, Ulta! Also is that really a vibrator necklace? How small are the batteries? Surely not. I gotta click that shit.
“The iconic necklace that brought together pleasure and self-expression. Crave’s Vesper is designed to enable beautiful experiences in public and in private, both as a statement jewelry and a strong slim external vibrator.”
Benefits
Vesper represents beauty, pleasure, and self-expression. As a stainless steel necklace, it enables the wearer to toe the line between subtle and provocative, to create conversations and to openly express their desires
With a removable chain, the Vesper easily turns into a slim external clitoral vibe with a rumbly feel and a smooth rounded tip for pinpoint sensation. Not for internal use
That’s some fucked up shit, yall. Don’t be wearing your vibrators out in public. That’s gross. What is wrong with you people? EW.
Usually, I write off my brachioplasty (arm lift) results. There’s multiple reasons. I didn’t get liposuction (would have if I knew to ask!) so I still have really big arms. I also still have that obnoxious fat overhang on my elbow. So I’m usually frustrated with it. Like I went through ALL THAT and still have huge arms. Really? This shit was so expensive too!
Also, when you compare my other surgeries, those are just far more impressive. I had a stomach pouch for years even after I lost weight so tummy tuck — huge. And boobs — they make every single outfit look better. Combine those two, and there’s so much oomph! This is the only time in my whole life where my breasts have stuck out further than my stomach. Seriously. I’m pretty sure I was fat before I grew breasts, so yeah. I mean the abdomen is just a complete overhaul. The difference is amazing. So yeah, I’m usually not too jazzed about the arms in comparison. Also huge scars. I’m not terribly bothered by the scars but I am disappointed that they looked like they would be so perfect and neat right after surgery but have since expanded.
HOWEVER (yes, in all caps), if you look at old photos, the arms do look hella better. They’re not all floppy either. There was a good bit of skin removed there. Before this, I’d never have worn a tank top to work. I’d CERTAINLY never have considered a tattoo sleeve. Fat flabby arms can’t have tattoo sleeves. Now that I have tighter arms and working on a fucking fabulous tattoo sleeve, I’m all about some tank tops.
Whenever an ad for a sale at Lane Bryant or Torrid pops up, I’m like “do they have any work-appropriate tanks tops?” I have a smallish collection of work tank tops hanging in my closet now. They’re my favorite to wear. I gotta show of my sweet tat.
I know it’s a work in progress. I can’t wait till we do the shoulder! But it’s nice and substantial and damn cool already. Hopefully, it greatly detracts from my balding head and acne/hairy/PCOS chin. No seriously, I’m having big issues about feeling ugly so let’s all look at the boobs and tattoo. Oooooooo.
I’m so so so glad it has my Jack in it. I miss him so much. I rub between his eyes and tell him I miss him. (He liked having me scratch right between his eyes sometimes). So I do frequently look at it and touch his little face. And people love it.
Almost everywhere I go, someone comments on it. Seriously. Just about everywhere. “Love your tattoo!” “Gorgeous tattoo!” “Who did your tattoo?” “Is that a cat!?” “Where’d you get it done?” “That work is amazing.” “Holy shit! I love it!” It’s a hype piece. A conversation starter for sure. I love it! Nearly everywhere I go, it’s mentioned.
(And yeah, hopefully it’s drawing attention away from my face. Look at my cleavage or something.)
I need to post here more. I need to set up and email account that will auto post for me. I have things to say, just not easy to get them here. And when I get off work, I just want to zone the fuck out.
Tonight, I checked on the GoFundMe for Aric and Samantha “Sam” Hutchinson. A little over a week ago, they were in an accident right after their wedding. They were on a golf cart driving away from the wedding when a drunk driver hit them. She died at the scene in her wedding dress. To be honest, i was checking to see if he died too. Last I checked, he was in critical condition. Looks like he is home recovering. Abso-fucking-lutly tragic. If I were him, I’d never have wanted to survive.
Death has been on my mind. Obviously reading something like that just kills you. But I had a better death-related happenstance last week. I’ve always been bothered by Robin William’s suicide. Not just a little, severely bothered. I’ve been suicidal. I had an excellent plan. Thankfully, I decided to give psychiatric medication a shot before I called it. But I was there. As they say in the Princess Bride “at worst I’ll kill you in the morning.”
So like I know that darkness depth of loneliness. I’ve always been so troubled that Robin freaking Williams killed himself. Like that happy man who everyone loved — if he couldn’t make it, what chance have we? He could have called ANYONE and we’d have been there for him. So it’s just always weighed heavy on my heart.
By happenstance, I came across this article by his wife (link). He was dying. He had Lewy body disease, not that he knew the name of it at the time. It had taken away his mental health. It had taken away his genius. His activeness. It had taken everything from him. He knew he was dying and quickly at that. He had a lucid Saturday with his wife and they had a wonderful day. She thought he might be getting better and then he killed himself on Monday. Tragic, of course. But he went out on his own terms. The state he was in was tragic.
But finding out that he wasn’t alone. He had his wife with him until the very end. And that it wasn’t a pit of loneliness. He was just speeding up the dying process. He was diagnosed by his brain. One of the worst cases of the disease ever seen. Half his dopamine receptors were completely gone. His entire brain was infected. He knew it was time.
And that lifted a heaviness I had. I know thats weird. But it did. I always mourned how he must have felt to do that. But knowing it wasn’t like that — it brightens my heart. He knew how loved he was. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t depression that took him. And he wasn’t alone.
RIP, Robin Williams. You are missed by many.
Also, K2’s mom was talking about how her mom had morbidly completely planned out her funeral to a tee 20 years before she died. So I’m about to post about that. I have a funeral plan. I think. Gotta run it by the husband. How much are life sized weeping angel statues?
I’m trying to review a lot of the things I’ve purchased for Louie. Which, of course, is a lot of things. But I can’t review these odor eliminating products. Why? Because I just chunked everything available at the problem so there’s too many variables.
I have charcoal bags. Charcoal and baking soda litter freshener. Gel odor absorbers. A little soapish paw print that I tossed in the litterbox. Bath and Body Works Plug-In and candles. Cause Louie has some kind of digestive issues.
I mentioned his gas problem in a previous post (clicky). So I took him to the vet the day after I got him. They prescribed him prebiotics and they did a lot! His gas is a million times better. Our house had just smelled like cat diarrhea. Now we’re doing good. However, his poop smells beyond foul. Yall, it’s bad. Hence the barrage of odor solutions. It’s been two weeks so it’s not anxiety. So time to switch his food. I researched foods for pet food specific for this problem and was recommended Blue Buffalo: Grain-Free and Natural Balance: Limited Ingredients by Google. I asked the vet what they would recommend but they said they don’t recommend specific foods because different food work for different pets. Kinda sounded like bullshit, but whatever.
So Blue Buffalo is good ingredients, but don’t I need to figure out what he’s having issues with? So I chose Natural Balance: Limited Ingredients. We’re switching now. He hasn’t noticed because he’s a vacuum. I hope this gets rid of the smelly poop. I’ve got the house under control, but once you open that litter closet — DAMN.
Also, as to him being a vacuum. I feel bad. I free fed Jack and Tabitha so they always had food available. I tried that with Louie and he ate more than a days worth in like an hour. So Louie gets fed twice a day but he eats it immediately. So I feel bad for him. But I don’t want him to turn into a basketball either. No conclusion to the paragraph, I just feels bad, ya know?
Mario
Have you seen the new Mario movie? It’s fucking fantastic, if you have not. Well, if you like Mario it’s fantastic. It’s a kids movie so we’re not looking at Oscar material here. However, if you know the Mario games and appreciate them, it’s awesome. I was worried because I don’t like Donkey Kong and he’s obviously a big part of it — but Seth Rogen played him great. It was basically just Seth Rogen in a monkey suit and it was fine. Also, Bowser was Jack Black. And it was HILARIOUS. Jack Black is obsessed with Princess Peach and want to marry her. Jack Black sings about her. It’s perfect. I love Tenacious D, so I’ve had the “Peaches” song in my head for over a week. And that’s impressive considering the lyrics are mostly just “peaches peaches peaches peaches peaches.”
The absolute standout though — Lumalee. In Bowser’s prison, there is a demented Luma. We cut to Bowser’s prison throughout the film — the penguins are there (OMG, I have to have some kind of King Penguin merch). Luigi ends up there. And Lumalee is always there. And all Lumalee wants is the sweet release of death. Yall, demented Luma is so fucked up and amazing. I have no idea how they decided to put that in the movie — but my god, it made it wonderful. Lumalee is constantly dancing and singing and user his magic — but he’s dark as fuck. He calls Luigi “more meat for the grinder” when he arrives. And when he’s about to die in the climax, he lays down in his cage and says “finally.” Of course they’re rescued and all you see is Lumalee laying there saying “boooooooo.”
The move ends and it’s good — we’re all happy. Them Lumalee pops up to say that was a happy ending. Except now there is nothing left but the emptiness and the void. What the actual fuck? I’m sorry to the parents that had kids there who heard me say “what the fuck” every time Lumalee said something. I’d want Lumalee merch, but I feel the only way it would be good is if it had the lines from the film. Like maybe a stuffed Lumalee and when you squeeze it, it just says dark shit. 100% would buy.
