Friday, March 30, 2012

Why does anyone gamble? Because they believe they are sure of the outcome.


My pretend boyfriend, Bersercules illustrated a children's book. 

.....oops, wrong picture...
(⌒▽⌒)



It's a really lovely little book, the kind of children's book that rhymes, which means it's fantastic. The cyclopean octopus was my favourite. 


My Boss got a dog:

His name is Slade (so I've been calling him Brian; if you know why, you RULE), and he's a 6-year-old greyhound, rescued from the races. He's really lovely--doesn't bark or jump or slobber, and doesn't pull on the lead when you're walking him. Boss brings him into the office to hang out, and Slade spends that time sprawled out on the floor (his bed is only big enough for half of him when he sprawls...) and terrifying the clients who are afraid of dogs.

I obviously can see why someone might be afraid of dogs, but I nevertheless find it hilarious when people flip out and act terrified in front of extremely mellow dogs. Like the daughter of our one client--they came in 40 minutes early (otherwise, Boss would have taken Brian Slade home because we had a bunch of people coming in that day) and the daughter FLIPPED. Like took one look at Slade, screamed, ran out of the office, and slammed the door behind her. Slade did not budge.

Kind of like when my asshole-in-law was freaking out because my niece (his daughter) was playing on the floor with my cousin's pitbull.

KILLING MACHINES.
-__________-

Yeah so Brian Slade is very nice.

Except yesterday the vet called to inform Boss that Slade has hookworms.

I'm pretty sure everyone gets at least a little skeeved out by the idea of intestinal worms. But me? No. "Skeeved out" doesn't even begin to skim the surface.

I have a worm phobia (use that against me and you willpay, I promise). Like it's pretty bad. Snakes? Spiders? Scorpions? Rodents? Not a problem. I'll go as far as to pick them up and cuddle them. (not kidding--I am apparently the go-to person in the family for removing snakes from buildings because I'll just pick them up and take them outside {I know what the poisonous ones look like; we only get two}; same with spiders and bugs). I'm actually quite fond of snakes and spiders in particular. But bring a f**king worm near me and I'll stab you in each of your major organs in alphabetical order. With a blunt object.

So yeah the idea of worms that LIVE INSIDE YOUR BODY freaks me the eff out. I started manifesting symptoms of hookworms the second that Boss told me the dog had them.

I've had this phobia a while. Actually since so early in childhood that I cannot remember a time that I was ever NOT afraid of worms. My Bipolar Auntie and one cousin have the exact same phobia as well (complete with the projectile vomiting), which I find kind of interesting. However, I don't think their phobias have led them to the same extremes.

This one time, in high school, a bunch of friends and I did a bunch of acid.

(Actually there were quite a few times....)

So this one time, when I was like 15 (I think? I can't remember exactly, which makes me feel either old or brain-addled as a result of substance abuse; it might have been 14), at this kid Sara's house (her parents were never home), a group of us did acid.

The thing about hallucinogens is that they don't necessarily make you hallucinate. I have seen and heard unreal things while doing hallucinogens, but most of the time they just made me think in a very different way. Almost like dream-logic, but while fully awake. The way it alters your thinking, you can [usually] deal with the visuals when you get them...

...it's the REAL stuff you can't handle.

Like the possibility of intestinal parasites.

I'm not sure why, but for some reason on that day at Sara's, I became absolutely certain that I had worms. And obviously, I had to get rid of them immediately.

I tried to explain this to my friend Kat. Somehow, I managed to convince her that she also had worms. And then both of us had a panic attack.

Sara lived close enough to the centre of Nyack that Kat and I could walk there. We pretty much ran to the pharmacy on the main street, and went straight to the pet section. We had discussed the plan on the way--obviously, getting to our parents and then getting a doctor's appointment would take far too long. And these were the days before the internet, so it's not like we could look up home remedies on the computer. No, if we wanted to get rid of the worms, we would have to think of something fast ourselves.

So I suggested de-worming tablets. The kind you get for dogs. If they're safe for dogs, they should be safe for humans, right? So we legged it to the pharmacy and chose a box of de-worming tablets from among the limited selection, figuring it would be safest to go with the ones for medium sized dogs rather than large dogs. At least for the first dose.

We got a bottle of water as well, and took the de-worming tablets the second we were out the door of the shop.

Those things'll really do a number on your digestive system.

I'm debating whether I should do that again (I've de-wormed myself like 3 times since that incident...) or go to the doctor and get a proper prescription......

Loud and Anorexic Aunties are here, and I'm getting fat as a fool between all the Irish candy they brought and all the eating out. T.T I took a day off work to hang out with them, so we're off on a nice long hike now. At least I'll be getting some exercise!

Hope y'all have a fabulous weekend!! ♥

Friday, March 23, 2012

God didn't do that, you did!


In trying to catch up with my commenters I've kind of fallen behind on actual blogging. I'm still like 3 posts behind (well 4 now, if you count this one), so I might just say feck it and start over. I feel guilty about that, though. Y'all take the time to come here and have a read and tell me your thoughts; I should obviously reciprocate. I need more hours in my day. 

But I also hate when bloggers stop blogging with no explanation, so I guess I'll have a bit of a ramble, even though in general I feel as though I have run out of things to say. 

I think Lil Bro#2 may have found my blog... I don't know for sure, though. FIGURES that one of my siblings would search the internet for "drunk hobbit" and that the picture from the LotR post would be one of only two pics on the internet of that hobbit. Proof that some things truly are genetic.



Just for 3 days...

and then again in April for a week....

It's kind of falling at a bad time, though. Since my eff-vitamins* post, I have not touched opiates. That's over a week, so I'm doing pretty well.

However

The lack of vitamins* has caused a bit of a relapse with the ED. And I just realized that this is exactly what happened last time I almost recovered from the ED and then relapsed--the food problem got hidden by the drug problem. Because on vitamins*, I can exercise enough that I don't worry about what I eat, which is not ED recovery at all; it's just hiding one problem with another.  I can't exercise nearly as well sober (and crikey I get SO BORED!!), so my brain automatically begins demanding that I not eat anything to make up for it. If I manage to burn 450 calories at the gym (a good day), I am only allowed to eat up to 600--that sort of (il)logic. And it's so hard to find solid ground in the face of so much reckless self destruction.

So I feel like a double-failure. My brain tells me I'm a failure because I'm fat/eating too much/weak/etc; I feel like a failure because I'm having a bad recovery week. Other shite keeps piling up as well. Like at home--the two step-twats that live far away have at least fecked off back home so we only have one of them to deal with; but the whole situation with step-dad is really deteriorating. I've started and trashed several posts trying to fully explain that, but it never comes out right. Perhaps I should just stick with blunt honestly and if it makes me sound like a heartless b*tch, so be it.

Step-dad is dying of the combined forces of emphysema, lung cancer, diabetes, and heart disease; but he is dying far too slowly for everyone involved. He's actually been "dying" for the better part of the last five years, leaving everyone around him to wonder if perhaps he's ever going to die at all.

Seriously if I'm ever dying this slowly, the first person who shoots me inherits everything I own.

At this point, Step-dad needs to stay attached to his oxygen machine at all times. He has no energy and no appetite. Not much quality of life at all. (Not that he ever did anything besides sit in front of the TV and drink when he was well....). And aside from that, he has no one around who actually wants him alive.

Yes, that's mean, but I said I'd be honest. You reap what you sow, and he most certainly sowed this.

.....yeah I can't talk about this. Maybe another time.

Oh and both Anorexic Auntie and Loud Auntie are arriving on Monday.  For a week. I love them to death, but I feel like my stress level is about to go from "moderate" to "apocalypse." 

Speaking of the apocalypse, I just started watching The Walking Dead and I FREAKING LOVE IT. 

....I know this is a bit late for St. Paddy's day, but since I had such success with this recipe, I shall post it!
Spekkoek
You will need:
a whole lot of shite
...lol not really. The recipe can be much simpler, or as complicated as you want to make it. Because this is (or should be) a 12 to 18 layer cake, there is an incredible amount of room for customization.
- 4 sticks (2 cups) butter, softened
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup dark brown sugar
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 10 large eggs
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 cup flour
- for a traditional spekkoek (which is really just a spiced cake): cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, clove, and nutmeg
- I also used 1/2 cup cocoa powder and melted chocolate chips for the choco layers

To make it:
I'm going to just lay out the simple traditional method for a regular spekkoek. I'll put my changes that I made for the St. Paddy's day cake at the end. 
- Make sure you have lots of clean bowls, and that you're close enough to the sink to keep going back and washing your mixer or whisk after each step. Do not preheat the oven. You'll only need the broiler after you have finished all the prep.

- In a large mixing bowl, combine the butter and sugar.

- Next you need to separate the eggs, because first only the yolks get mixed in with the butter and sugar. Set the egg whites aside in a separate bowl. 

- Then whip up the egg whites until they're stiff, like whipped cream.

- Gradually mix the whipped egg whites into the yolk/sugar/butter mix. Do not panic--it's supposed to look like that. (should have the consistency of cottage cheese kinda?)

- Sift the flour and mix it in. It should end up with a consistency more like pancake batter than cake batter. 

- Now separate the batter, with half in two different bowls. Add the vanilla extract to one, add the spices to the other (I used 1 tsp ginger, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp cardamom, 1/2 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp clove; but you can really use how much you want for your tastes.)

For my St. Paddy's spekkoek, I separated everything early on--separated the butter/sugar mixes so that one had brown sugar and the other white; and then after the step of adding the flour to each, I took 1/3 of each of those mixes so that I had a 3rd bowl of both brown and white sugar. I put the vanilla in the white sugar mix, the spices in the one with both sugars, and the cocoa powder and melted chocolate in the one with only brown sugar. Then I dyed the spiced mixture green and attempted to dye the chocolate mixture orange.

NOW gather all of your patience, because it's time to cook it. 

- Turn on the broiler.

- I used a circular 9" baking pan; a really really good one that is non-stick even when not greased. Most of the recipes I looked up recommended greasing the bottom of the pan with butter or something similar and then adding a layer of wax paper, and then greasing that as well. With my skills in dropping things, setting things on fire, and blowing things up, I thought it best to just stick to the pan with no wax paper. However, if you want your spekkoek to look fab with no icing (like a traditional spekkoek) I would try the wax paper method.

- Pour a very very thin layer of cake mix into the pan and spread it evenly on the bottom. It doesn't matter which one you start with--spiced or plain. I started with the chocolate.

- Stick that under the broiler and WATCH IT. Every oven is different. My layers took between 1 to 1 1/2 minutes to cook, but the first bunch of layers might take up to 2 minutes because they're farther away from the heat. Take the pan out as soon as the layer of cake is solid. 

- Add a really thin layer of the other mix over the first one, spreading it out evenly. 

- This can take a while because of the consistency of the mix. Just do your best and try not to get frustrated. Broil the next layer just like the first one. And then the next and the next, alternating between the spiced mix and the plain mix. 

- When you're finished (it should have a minimum of 12 layers, but don't beat yourself up if you don't get there on the first try...). Let the cake cool. 
Then remove it from the pan. 
Mine wasn't perfect, so I iced it. :D


For Easter, I plan on making this again, only ditching most of the spices and separating the final batter into like 6 different bowls and making each one a different colour, so I can have a rainbow spekkoek. Obvs, there shall be photos. 


Have a good weekend, kids! <3

Monday, March 12, 2012

Have a biscuit, Potter.

A short update, because that last post was kind of dramatic. 


I'm having a rough start this Monday. The time change didn't make much of a difference to my morning, because even though I was tired and even though I took my normal dose of sleepies last night, I did not get any sleep. At all. 


My step-siblings are here. All three of them. Grendel & co. were up binge drinking and making a HUGE bloody racket until 5.00 this morning. And in their drunken stupors, they forgot to take all their stuff from the kitchen when they eventually slithered off to bed. This morning on the counter, I found a load of paperwork on how to put someone into a senior home and have it paid through Medicare or Medicaid, which means the step-sibs plan to have step-dad shipped off somewhere asap so they can go forward with their plans to take my house. How do I know that's their plan? Welllllll, along with all the medicaid/senior home stuff, I also found two different CMA's for MY HOUSE. 
>:(


...I can't even talk about this fully right now; it's just too headachy. So instead I shall discuss something more positive. 


Although I would very much like to go about getting deliciously evil revenge on vitamin*-nemesis, I have decided to cut my losses and move on. 


Because I am quitting the vitamins*. For good. 


It's strange how something can start so small, and before you know it or even realize it, you're stuck in this awful, repetitive, completely self-destructive behavior pattern. And you feel trapped in it. Like there's no possible light if you ever manage to crawl out of that tunnel. 


I had a similar "epiphany" last night as I did that time in December, when I made my largest step forward with ED recovery. (And oddly enough, last night I was also watching Lord of the Rings...). One of those "OMG how the hell did it come to this?!?" kind of moments. 


So I went through my bedroom, dug out every last vitamin*, and flushed all of them down the toilet. 


And afterwards, it honestly felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest. 


So that's why there will probably be no revenge. I want nothing more to do with vitamin*-nemesis; and I want nothing more to do with vitamins*. It might be hellish for the first week or two, getting back to exercising without them, but I'm not going to give in. Every ache and every drop of sweat will be proof that I've given it up. I'd rather feel the aches than feel nothing, and that's really all that the vitamins* do--it's a way of completely numbing yourself to the world. And I'm sick of being numb. 


Hope you all have a nice start of the week! Every single one of you deserves nice, happy days and don't you ever forget it. ♥


Wednesday, March 7, 2012

But know that vengeance shall be mine. ...Oh, how it will be mine!

I shall begin with a brief disclaimer: I am about to talk about things that may make some people uncomfortable. 
If you don't like or agree with what I'm saying, feck off. 


No cartoons today. I'm too angry to make them funny. 



I have been in a bad mood. To be more precise, an ANGRY sort of bad mood.

Lemme back up.

I had a stash of vitamins* (yes, I know, leave me alone) that should have lasted me quite a long time. And then new vitamin*-friend called me one night last week and asked could she please *borrow* a few because she had run out and her supplier wasn't due to refill her stash until the weekend, and she was about to start withdrawing. Because I am a nice bloody person complete moron, I said ok, and gave her several of them (less than she had asked for, but still quite a few). She swore she would get them back to me by the weekend.

Guess what.

She didn't. 

ok maybe some hastily drawn piccatures of how angry I am...

It's been two weeks since she took them. I know she was having some personal issues and I was prepared to be lenient....

BUT THEN: Last Saturday, vitamin*-friend nemesis says she has half of the thingies she owes me. I said I couldn't come get them that night because I was already out, but if she was willing to throw them in my mailbox (like old vitamin*-muffin used to :*O), I would throw her a few bucks for gas. She said cool--no problem.

Later I get a text that she had to do some family thing, so she gave my thingies to her best friend to drop off. Then around midnight, she texts again and says that Friend said the drop-off was done.

I go check my mailbox: No money. No thingies.

I don't get angry very often. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that you would need to perform some truly epic feats of douchebaggery to get me angry or offended. Some of us are just like that.

The problem with people like me is that when someone manages to push me into actual ANGER, the reaction is like 100x what it would be in a normal person. A normal person gets angry and talks smack about you behind your back until they eventually get over it. Me? I get angry and I will RUIN YOUR F**KING LIFE.

Of course the friend says she totally dropped the stuff off. And now vitamin*-nemesis has gone from "I swear I'll talk to her" to avoiding my calls and texts. And she still owes me the rest of my thingies back.

I cannot even begin to put my rage into words. Paul#2 (we're speaking again, against my better judgment....) says I should break both of their legs and then run over their dogs and burn their houses down, and I must admit I find that course of action incredibly appealing. I still don't know who the friend is, though. I have my suspicions, and once they are confirmed SUCH VENGEANCE SHALL I RAIN DOWN UPON HER YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT.

When it comes to Serious Vengeance, I have no morals. None.

I may or may not keep all y'all updated on this, depending on how illegal it gets.....