Is...how you say...freezing!

It's been colder than Santa's balls here in Portland the last few weeks. I assume Santa's balls are cold on account of the North Pole being pretty chilly and he doesn't look like he gets much action. So, as you can imagine, pretty damn cold.

We've gotten a little snow here and there, though nothing to brag about, but it's mostly been just damn cold and clear and icy and foggy. Most Portlanders would kill me for saying this, but I can't wait for the rain to come back. But that will warm things up a bit! Yikes it's cold out there.

So last weekend, Eminem and I drove a good three hours out of Portland to a cabin his folks have and then I promptly started to get a cold, which made me, per usual, a cranky, dramatic pain in the ass. But, my man handled it like a champ. As he always does. Which is why I love him.

But, even though I was getting sick, I refused to drive all that way just to watch football and movies and eat enough gluten free cookies to last me through the apocalypse, so I drug our freezing asses outside and we walked around a frozen lake and I got some great photos out of it. Totally worth losing my nose to frostbite, but that's what committed photographers are all about.



Then I came home to a week from hell. Between this cold that threatened to be the flu and feeling some immense stress from work and then some other shit which I just can't talk about, it was hard. Super hard yo.

Then a friend told me (so, you know, a very reliable source) that historically, that's the most depressing week of the year. Something to do with it being fucking freezing and everyone's stressed from coming off the holidays, blah blah blah. So that made me feel better.

And Saturday I got to go to my very first Trail Blazer's game. And even though they lost and even though I thought I might get into a LA girl throw down more than a few times (because that's how California girls do it. so don't fuck with us.), I had fun!

Still, even though it was freezing all night, a great reward for trudging along in the cold to do something with your guy that he genuinely loves is always cuddling with a human radiotor that makes you tea and breakfast in the morning. In case you missed it, my boyfriend is a human radiator. The man emits heat that could cure a hypothermia victim. Hospitals should keep him on standby.

As one parting thought, I've never liked the term "pussy whipped" for what I hope are obvious reasons. It's a horrible term. But I now own apparel for pretty much all of my boyfriend's favorite sports teams (except the Pats. because I'll always be a Niners girl).

So you tell me who's whipped.

because we live in the Matrix

In case you were worrying about me, Internet, here's a wee update: I am feeling a little better. With the gracious love of my dear, dear friend, I have taken one thing temporarily off of my plate. And you wouldn't believe how one tiny thing can much such a huge difference! I feel like a small breeze of relief is flowing in through one corner of my life. It's amazing.

Not a literal breeze though. God no. It's like 100 million fucking degrees here in Southern goddman California. Really, though, it's hot. And I hate it with the fire of my soul (get it? cause it's hot? heh.). Even though it's getting scary to make this move and all the details of it are killing me, I am so ready to leave this sweaty ass part of the world. So ready I am going out of my ever lovin' mind.

Anywaaaay.

This thing I set aside is still going to happen, I've just asked for a little postponement until I can work other details out and catch my breath.

But ask me again how I feel tonight. I may eat my words when I once again can't sleep and end up screaming in frustration at my brain that just won't effing turn off. But I plan on sedation, so here's hoping for a full night of sleepytime.

And in celebration of taking control of my life and looking forward to the first great day in a while, here's a little brilliance (thanks to Cocomo):

If you don't watch the highlarious video, you won't get the title of this post. 

See how manipulative I am? Don't you love it?

No? Well then bite me.

Hap Pee Hall Id Ays

What a week. I am simultaneously stressed and bored. Bored because my office is so quiet. No phones ringing, no emails. So I get my work done so quickly and I have nothing else to do. Pointless. Plus, I worked WAY too hard last week to get everything done before the break, because I'm taking a vacation the first week of January and I'll need to hit the ground running when I get back. But, dudes, I worked too hard. I got everything done that I can do without others' input (because of vacations). I should have spread that out so that I have more to do this week.

Stop laughing. You're laughing, I can tell. But nothing is worse than having nothing to do. It's mind-numbing! The day just goooooes soooo loooong! I'd rather be a busy bee and stressed out. Then at least the days go quickly.

But then I'm also a little stressed. Stressed because I've been exhausted lately. I know what you're thinking, Internet. Exhausted, you say? Why ever for? You just got done telling us that you've got nothing to do! Exactly my point. I am tired for no good reason. Maybe it's because I'm bored all day or maybe it's my iron levels. Whatever the reason, I'm just pooped. I simply cannot get enough sleep. I get home and collapse and then I have trouble waking up the next morning. I'm pushing my mornings later and later and that is taking a toll on my get-ready time. So you can see that hats are again playing a huge role in my life. Luckily I love hats and I'm allowed to wear them to work. Hah! So there.

And then there's this damned holiday season. Don't get me wrong, I am soooo excited that I get 2 weeks off (well, one week of my own vacation, but who's complaining?)! But no matter how many times I go through the season and no matter that I've streamlined it into my own, safe version of "christmas," I still get those butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies that pop up on family holidays that seem to be a mixture of species: the jealous of big families butterflies, the lonely only on holidays butterflies, the self-loathing why did I get stuck with the sucky situation butterflies. I can see you wondering why all my butterflies are negative when most butterflies are pretty. See, those pretty ones only come out in the spring. Wait, the bad butterflies come out for easter too. Damn it. Well, just sod it all then.

Point being that no matter how hard I work to make this work for me, I still can't help feeling twinges of negativity drilled into me from birth. Holidays are supposed to suck, are supposed to be stressful. Almost 30 years of conditioning taught me that. So it's hard to break the subconscious mind that wants to sabotage all my hard work.

Plus it's also a vacation from my therapist. Almost a month until my next appointment. Let's see if I can get through without calling her.

Nevertheless, I am going to barrel through. And I am spending christmas day with Morgan. We're having an anti-christmas, which suits me JUST fine. I am SO looking forward to it! But I must apologize to her in advance if I freak out a little. Last year I made it through with the help of my pajamas, lost of sugar, and hours of Harry Potter. I'm not sure what going out in the world will feel like. So, please, lovely friend, if I panic and just need to go home, please please puleez understand. This holiday is hard for me.

That said, happy holidays everyone! I'm sure I'll post between now and christmas, maybe, if I feel like it (hah!), but even though I don't get the joyous holiday season, I don't begrudge others who love it. In fact, I'm envious of you all. I hope you swim in the sparkliness of wintry snow and open lots of glorious presents and eat lots of decadent food surrounded by people who smother you with love unconditional. I really wish that for everyone. Really and truly.

In the spirit of giving, here are some links to my favorite charities and non-profits should you decide to part with some more cash:

Habitat for Humanity

I'd prefer you specify your giving to the New Orleans area, but just giving to this organization means your money will help someone have a home.

Human Rights Campaign

Courage Campaign

Planned Parenthood

Invisible Children

Make sure to buy one of the films and you'll get a bracelet made in Uganda too. All of their merchandise goes right to the cause.

The UN Refugee Agency

Repower America

And even if you can't give (believe me, I get how poor we all get this time of year), there are plenty of ways to get involved, even if it's just writing your legislators, signing petitions, or spreading the word. Follow these orgs on Twitter or Facebook and they'll help you to do little things which can help a lot.

Peace and love and all that jazz!

just pop a pill, shuga

So, without writing about work, which I really shouldn't do, probably even to say good things, because I really like my paycheck, I've still got to say that I've been under an unbelievable amount of pressure lately.

This is how I feel lately:

Though, for the record, my desk is way more organized than hers, even at my most stressed. And my hair is way better. But you knew that. And what the hell is she wearing? That tie? My god, someone buy this girl a mirror. No wonder she's stressed.

Anywayyyyy

I have a big event looming (no, not just big. HUGE. MONUMENTAL!) and just not enough hours in the day to get everything done, even if I take my work home, which, bee tee double you, I have been. I'm not sure that I'll see at light at the end of the tunnel until after said event, at which point I'll just collapse in such pure ecstasy at completing it and living through it. When that happens, please celebrate my survival with me and send flowers to the Community Hospital, room 211.

god I hope that is a real room and that it is occupied by a 75 year old woman named Myrtle. Please make Myrtle's day. She likes Gladiolas and lime Jello.

Naturally, this is taking a toll. I am punchy and cranky and sleepless (because I'm stressing about all I have to do) and irrational and sensitive. My synapses just aren't firing and I don't think I'm making much sense, at least I don't sound like I do. Example of a typical conversation this week:

coworker: hey, Andy, did you get blah de be blah done yet?

me: (oh my god, I fail at life and they hate me) no, but did you know that the French plan to colonize the moon in order to export moon cheese, the last untapped cheese? damn, these people are genius. do you think they'll make the moon people learn French and become their slaves? That would be so typical. Let's protest!

coworker: greaaaaat, let me know when you're done with blah de be blah.

Do you see? It's an utter mystery. Was I really talking about French Moon Cheese or was that just what my brain interpreted whilst I was actually answering in a completely sensical way. Maybe there is a point when I become so tired that my brain takes over my body and I become this automaton genius which can churn out incredible amounts of work without ME ever actually thinking a coherent thought. It's fantastic! I really am a genius! Except, I also feel migrainey and dizzy and nauseated, so maybe the side effects aren't worth it after all. Fine print: not for women over 50 or under 45, not for women who are pregnant, may become pregnant, ever have been pregnant, ever want to get pregnant, or who came out of someone's pregnant belly at some point in time, or even come into contact with the concept of pregnant. But, Automoton Genius is not for everyone. Please consult your doctor to see if Automaton Genius is right for you. And don't smoke.

See? Punchy.

The point of all this was that I got to go home half a day today to make up for working last weekend and I am laying in my bed trying to nap, but am way to0 dizzy and stressy to sleep. And while I would loooove to drag my ass to the car and drive to the rite aid and buy some tylenol pm, I don't want to. So I won't. Because really, I hate those pills anyway. I have always struggled with sleep, well, not ALways, but off and on for years. And I would rather wait it out before I pop some chemical concoction that will eventually turn me into a whacked-out, drugged, crazy lady with too many pets, a pile of newspapers everywhere, an addiction to shopping off TV, and a world view that includes me at the center and all the planets and their inhabitants rotating around me. Really, I just don't want to be my mom. And no, I'm not exaggerating. I was actually leaving a lot out to be nice.

Suffice to say, I am trepidatious about medication. Plus it's like 3 pm and I don't want to sleep 8 hours and wake up at 11 tonight ready to boogie. That's just inconvenient, really.

Did I mention that I'm punchy? You all will think this is hilarious when I'm roommates with Myrtle and her Gladiolas that you sent her. Who's laughing now huh? Not Myrtle, that's not who.