Friday, February 22, 2008

Shut your eyes! Oh my gosh, Shut your eyes!

I love, absolutely adore, the notion of getting on demand television for free just because we have an HD TV.

What horrifies me, and just did, is that we just went from harmless Tom and Jerry cartoons to PORN, in the shower, two girls, moaning, my god, PORN, my babies....AURGH

You have never seen me move faster.

It was a from-the-bottom-of-the-shower shot, but the chick had undies on, but my god, PORN.


Most evenings it is channel after channel of kids' cartoons.

Luckily, I found Spongebob as quick as could be. Whew.

Oh no. Now I'll get tagged on googled porn hits.
Thank god there are probably 4 billion porn sites on the internet and I will be on page 5,969 (haha) and I will not be found.

Well, enough of this, it's time to stop stealing the neighbor's bandwidth because mine is screwed at the moment, and go put a pizza in.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Thank you brother

It seems as all my latest posts have something to do about being sick, or in pain.

Wow! Aren't I a load of fun?

I did wake up in the middle of the night in the vice-grip of clenching as I was testing a night without a muscle relaxer. I now know what will happen. I have proceeded to dose myself tonight. It's only 1/4th of a pill, so nothing extreme. It's enough to keep me sane I suppose.

I have to shout out and thank my brother, who I know is not reading this, for sending me loads of music. He is a dear. He is a computer demon and can get me any music my little heart desires.

He recently sent me all the old Depeche albums....that I have, personally, owned twice and don't have now. And he sent Vampire Weekend and Remi Nicole. The latter is the better so far.

In other happenings, there is not much happening.

I'm trying to self-diagnose my red blotching issues...and it seems as though I'm nerotic.

It actually is a symptom that corellates with the heart and the sympathetic nerve. Who knew there was something called the sympathetic nerve. It sounds so forced. (Oh, my sympathetic nerve!)
I'm taking extra magnesium as low levels can actually mimic severe anxiety induced stroke-like symptoms...which sent my grandmother to the ER at the end of the summer....which also led me to go see a Doc. about anxiety.

If my vitamin cocktail does not suffice, I will then go to el doctor to talk about beta blockers. I have a quite fast, resting heart rate (90's) and a history of heart problems...that were previously fixed, per se, so this could be an underlying issue.

I would just like to try and figure out the problem I have. It's very embarrassing and frustrating. It also makes me feel like I don't have control (which I guess, when it happens, I don't) and I don't like to not be in control.
I had two episodes last week that left me feeling so angry at my stupid body...came home and googled *red blotchy neck* and found a long message board in regards to this and actually teared up just because I am not alone with this problem. I'm certainly not careening with the majority of people here, but definately not alone.

It is currently 9:01 and this mama is determined to go to bed a little close to on time. I am tired and I need my busy-brain to give me a rest also.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Who to hire...

I need a hitman...and I need one now.

A hitman to not neccessarily take the life of another....just to break the kneecaps of one, useless attorney, who will not return my nagging emails or answer his phone.

I SWEAR!!!!!

You are getting exactly 30% of whatever the stupid insurance people pay out. The least you could do is reply to my email.
I don't care if all you say is "Kiss my ass". At least REPLY.

I'm really not too upset about it at the moment, just irritated as hell.
I am done. Done. Done. Done. And all I am in the mood to do now is settle and move on. Live with endless pain and get this over with.
Is that really too much for one to ask for?

Well, it is now time for a three-person game of Duck Duck Goose with two, sweet girls who ate all their dinner...and I think I have started to digest, so a little jaunt around the front room won't kill me or make me throw up.