Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Damned good taste

It's horrible to have such impeccable taste sometimes!

A couple of friends who just moved to the States as well announced yesterday that they went to Ikea and bought stuff to furnish their house. Now, we have a lot of stuff coming, but one of the things we got rid of was our bedroom set. So, I really want a chest of drawers at the very least. But I don't want to spend a lot as we are attempting to save money. Ikea is a cheap option even if I'm not in love with most of the stuff.

I went onto the Ikea website to see if there was anything on there that was remotely our style, and it wasn't long before I found a set of drawers that would work perfectly!

For $550!

That's not cheap people! Suffice it to say, we still don't have a chest of drawers.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Boom baby!

So, the doctor changed my thyroid medication- I knew I was hypothyroid!- and I've reduced my anti-depressants. I'm now taking one every other day, and I'd like to come off them altogether, but that's going to take a while. Of course, the weather is warming up and the sun is out a lot which does wonders for my mood!

Anyway, the point is, I got my wedding ring back on this morning!

Yes, I'm still overweight. Yes the ring is tight and not coming off again without shoving my finger in a tub of butter or the freezer, but dammit it's on! And my finger's not turning purple! Killing myself exercising and denying myself some of life's pleasures (because I firming believe that going without chocolate and wine completely is not life but some form of sadistic torture) is starting to pay off. 

Monday, February 18, 2013



Why can't we send them to boarding school? Honestly, I'm getting so sick and tired of this bloody angst driven sullenness.


Sunday, February 17, 2013

Snow play in Southern California is weird

Yesterday, we all went to Mount San Jacinto to ride the Aerial Tramway to the top of the mountain. I totally recommend this for all visitors and locals. It's so worth it! And we can't wait to make the trip again in warmer weather.

Because at the moment, the mountain is covered in snow.

Now, here's the thing: I don't like snow. I'm a warm weather creature. Playing in the snow for a few hours, though, secure in the knowledge that soon I will return to my natural climate (ie warmth), is quite enjoyable. Hell, I even slid down a hill on a saucer, not once but twice! Lost a shoe both times, too.

What I find immensely entertaining, though, are the extreme differences in what people wear to visit the snow in So. California. There are some that are dressed ready for a blizzard- thermal underwear, snow boots with furry lining, snow overalls, huge parkas, woolly hats, scarves, gloves- and they're still shivering! Then you have the other ones in shorts, sandals, and a light sweatshirt, sometimes with a baseball cap, sometimes not, and they're acting like it's a day at the beach! We were sort of in the middle- jeans, sweatshirts, I had fingerless gloves on. It was 50degrees F out there. Not the coldest temperature by far!

Still, it was really nice sitting at a patio restaurant in the sun for a late lunch in downtown Palm Springs.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Blah blah blah, shut the fuck up

Now that the suspicion has been put in my head that it's actually my anti depressants that are making me feel like crap, I really want to come off them. And I swear the effects have been worse today. Or maybe I'm just not willing to put up with it anymore.

This afternoon, I couldn't keep my eyes open while the tv was on, and so far today I've snapped at Steve a bunch of times. I still think he's being purposefully annoying, but it's still put me in a really bad mood to be annoyed with him.

So yeah. Happy Valentine's day. Now just shut up and leave me alone so I can wallow in my own misery.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Continuing the reason why health is stupid

Ok, so last month I made myself an appointment at the clinic since we STILL don't have health insurance, and I need medication. Plus, I'd really love to know why I'm putting on weight faster than a squirrel in late fall.

Yesterday they called to confirm the appointment and (if you don't want more information about my lady parts than what is socially acceptable, skip to the next paragraph) check to see when my last PAP smear was. It's been a while. Not because I don't like them- not that I do like them because ew- and not because I haven't made appointments. It's because my uterus has decided it doesn't like to be poked at with a q-tip! Every freakin' time I've made an appointment for a doctor to poke at my lady parts, my period starts the day before I'm due to go in. For example, I wasn't planning on having to undergo a PAP at today's appointment, but when she called yesterday and I said it had been a while, she decided to go ahead and put that on the menu of items to be addressed. Yay! And I kid you not, 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, Whoosh! My uterus just does not like an audience.

So, the nurse gives me this questionnaire about depression and tells me to fill it out and the doctor will be there in a minute. So I do. And the questions are ridiculous. "Do you ever feel down, hopeless?" Well, yeah, who doesn't? "Do you feel like you're useless or have let your family down?" Yes, and it's totally justified. Even though I did try to vacuum this morning. It's not my fault that the vacuum doesn't actually suck, though. "Do you feel anxious or tired? Do you sleep a lot or not enough?" Again, I don't think I've ever met anyone that would answer no to any of those questions.

The doctor, a cute little petite lady, comes in, looks at my answers, and says, "Oh dear! Not doing so well today, huh?"

I looked at her, rather blankly, and said, "No, actually today's a pretty up day." I'm surprised she didn't have me committed right then and there. Thing is, I've lived like this my whole life. I'm used to it. If I was "happy," not only would everyone around me be freaked, I wouldn't know what to do about it. I'm cool with status quo in the emotion department.

I've been of the belief that there is something seriously wrong with my thyroid meds- weight gain, appetite, lethargic, etc. And even though, all the tests have come back that it's all good, I keep putting on weight and feeling like crap. This has been going on for about 2 years. Ridiculous.

Suddenly, while I'm explaining this to doctor lady, she says, "When did you start taking anti-depressants?"

Oh my god. I'm getting depressed because I've put on more weight than a retired pro ball player, feel like crap, and you're telling me it could be the freaking anti depressants?!?! So basically my choices are continue trying to break the record for heaviest land mammal, or cry in the shower wishing I hand the courage to die. Great. This is just fan-fucking-tastic!

And no, I haven't decided what I want to do about it. I want to come off the meds, but I know I can't just stop them. Blah.

This is why I want to buy a farm. I want to live somewhere a bit simpler where it's not so bloody complicated all the time!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

First World Problems

My internet connection keeps dropping out.  Steve, computer guru extraordinaire, can't figure out why. This means two things: 1) all hope is lost, and 2) it's personal. Cheryl, that's my computers name, is a bitch and occasionally takes such offense to my face that she's like, "Boom! No net for you!"

Now, I completely agree that this is a total first world issue- see post title. There are much bigger issues out there. Hell, there are much bigger issues in my own freakin' head! But I'm a stay at home mom. The internet is my only connection to the outside world. All my friends live in Cheryl! Dammit bitch, GIVE ME BACK MY FRIENDS!

Plus, when I'm trying to harvest my crops and feed my animals and the connection drops out, all the work is lost! It's like a whole day on the farm didn't happen and I have to do it all over again. The goats are hungry, Cheryl!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Suggestion box

I love when my family acknowledges when I have a suggestion and follows through on it. It makes me feel valuable and boosts my self esteem.

Of course, I can't remember the last time this happened. If I make a suggestion, it's either ignored, met with derision, or claimed as their own. Usually the first one.

So glad I bother.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Creature of habit

I've had this laptop for a few months now, and before that I used a netbook for.....a long time. Time has little meaning for me.

Anyway, the point is I haven't used a mouse on a regular basis for years. I've started having issues with this laptop lately, though, so Steve, being the computer guru in the house, has been working on it a bit. Trying, in vain, to get the stupid machine to stop trying to kill me. The touch pad on this thing is so sensitive that you can blow on the damned thing and it will move the curser around! I've sort of gotten used to it, even though it still pisses me off to no end to type a bunch of stuff, only to have my palm select and delete it all. Ctrl Z fixes it, usually, but it's still a pain.

Steve, on the other hand, has spent a lot of time yelling at the touch pad. So yesterday he bought me a mouse.

Yay! Joy of joys! And I will admit it will be a lot easier. Once I get used to it.

I keep trying to select things with my touch pad, and then yelling at my computer before remembering that the touch pad is now turned off because I have a mouse.

My computer is an evil bitch, and I know she's laughing at my pain.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Travelling Red Dress

Have you heard about this? It's quite cool. Basically, people donate gorgeous red dresses, photographers donate a photo session, and people who need a bit of a pick-me-up benefit from it.

So what happens if you're so far down the hole that you feel unworthy of the red dress?

Yeah, that's where I'm at right now. I actually found myself on the facebook page for the red dress asking for help, in tears, before I caught my reflection in the window and deleted the whole post. Honestly, I don't want photographic evidence of how I look right now.

So then I went looking for other people's red dress photos, and they all look so gorgeous. I'd hate to ruin the whole project because if people saw me, they'd loose faith in the whole bloody thing. Plus, I'd really hate if I couldn't find a dress to fit, photographer to subject themselves to look at me that long, and let's not forget it would take a make up artist several hours to make this look human. And of course, I'd still hate the photos.

I'm the least photogenic person I know. It's been that way forever. Even my baby pictures look awkward!

Maybe someday I'll work up the courage. Right now I think I'll just focus on getting out of bed every day.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

And this is why I don't like doctors

So, before we left New Zealand, I got 3 months worth of our meds to see us through. I was sure that 3 months would be plenty. I mean, there's affordable healthcare available, right? And besides, it would just be temporary, right?

$1,700 a month is not bloody affordable!

We had gone into the clinic last month at the bequest of my son's school. That's a whole nother story. Basically it wound up with my nine year old handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser, screaming his brains out, on his way to an emergency psychiatric ward. Except he's too young for them to deal with either, so they sent us away. At least they gave me a prescription for a month worth of meds for him. Stronger meds. Except he can't come off them. If he does, we're not sure what could happen. But it would be bad.

Flash forward to last week. I suddenly realize that my meds have run out and my son's are getting really low. I have an appointment at the clinic in a few weeks, so my husband convinces me to go there and beg for mercy, and schedule my son in at the same time. They can't give me a prescription. They are booked as far out as their system goes and can't give my son an appointment. Seriously? Crap.

So I come off my meds because I don't feel like sitting for hours in urgent care and immediately delve into a black hole of self loathing. None of my clothes fit. I have to go buy yet another bigger size. Bad idea in my current mindset. I go in the change room with 2 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, and a dress. All of which make me resemble a stuffed sausage. I can't even get the jeans over my gargantuan thighs. So I leave. Of course, on the way out of the store, I find a pretty pot and 3 gorgeous scarves. The purchase of which makes me later feel horrible when I get home and am faced with the full length mirror. I don't deserve pretty things.

Anyway, after crying for 2 days straight, my husband tells me he's not letting me not take my meds. That's how I wound up sitting in urgent care yesterday afternoon, next to my son yelling at his Thor character on his Nintendo DS and watching some show about rednecks who catch snakes. I think if you added all their teeth together, you may find that they still don't have as much as one adult should have.

Finally, the nurse calls us back. And she wants to weigh me. I break out in a cold sweat. I've been treating scales like the evil undead for awhile now. You see, I'm on thyroid medication, and the doctors refuse to believe me that the levels are wrong. So I've been putting on weight. Fast. Basically, I ended 2011 at a fairly comfortable size 10/12. I've begun 2013 at a tight 16/18. This is with dieting and exercising my ass off!

When I was 9 months pregnant with my son, I was 180lbs. The heaviest I've ever been. Until now. I'm now over 200lbs! I now have a goal of loosing over 60lbs. A goal which doesn't seem feasible. And actually, it is completely impossible until I can get a doctor to actually listen to me and adjust my medication.

So we're sitting in the sterile exam room and the doctor comes in. Instantly I feel like I'm a druggie just after a fix. Yeah, thyroid medication and anti depressants give you the best high. He asks, "Why did you leave New Zealand? It's so pretty there!"

I reply, "Yeah, and it rains constantly. But more, we thought that there would be more opportunity here." And once I get started, I find I can't stop. "But it seems the land of opportunity is a dried up barren wasteland of pain and suffering," I continue. "And people are so close to the edge of poverty that they don't care who they have to claw and fight their way over, or stab in the back just to survive. It isn't even about getting ahead anymore! It's just getting the basic needs met. And I've been trying to get some sort of insurance going, but it's like we can eat and have a roof over our heads, or have medical insurance. It seems kind of pointless to have medical insurance if you're starving to death on the street....This is why I need the fluox," I finish lamely.

And all this time, my son is taking pictures of everything with his DS. I'm actually a little afraid that he's also recording my rant.

The doctor then says, "K. I'll be right back." I figure he's getting a social worker. I'm about to be locked in the high security ward. But no, he comes back a few minutes later and explains that he can't give my son's full strength of medicine, that has to come from a psychiatrist, and it's only for 1 month. If I come back next month, they can't do it again. "So, you know, get something sorted out soon."

Why didn't I think of that?! Thank you, fuckwit! Get something sorted! Duh! Oh, wait, no, THAT'S WHAT I WAS JUST RANTING ABOUT!

I'm just so relieved when doctors actually listen. Oh, that's right. THEY DON'T!