Today in my life with Prednisone:
EAT ALL THE THINGS!
And then laugh really hard at this stupid, stupid video. Like, to the point I was coughing and lying on the floor crying. Literally.
Also, I got 15 minutes of sleep last night. It’s now two hours past my normal bedtime, and I am in no way tired. The pirate’s life for me!
I’m afraid that my lack of posts is making people think I have a busy social life and no time to blog. For the record, I come home from work, eat dinner, maybe take a walk, and Netflix coma until bed.
I had a major allergic reaction to a yellowjacket sting on Saturday and just got put on Prednisone today. I’m sweating to death, my legs are restless, I can’t sleep, bedtime was four hours ago, I got into a Facebook fight for the first time in months, and thoughts like the one above are looping around in my head. I’d almost rather have the giant, itchy, swollen side forever than take this shit. Oh, my god.
Thank you for being here in my time of need, blog.
Hey, blog. Almost made another month without talking to you again. Damn. Sorry, bby.
So, what’s been going on this month? Firstly:
This month, I took part in the Foodie Penpals program and my sender was fantastic. Here’s the goods:
Basically, everything delicious and good in the world.
More specifically: Nutella, sunflower seed butter (because I recently leveled up and gained a peanut allergy!), blueberry preserves (my favorite thing in the world), apple butter, these ridiculous hulless popcorn things that were crazy tasty, a couple packs of pistachios, and extra caffeinated coffee. The only thing I haven’t totally destroyed yet is the coffee, and only because I’ve never had time to make a full pot of coffee yet.
I feel like a shit because my package wasn’t nearly as great to my sendee. I made him a dozen chocolate chip cookies, but could only fit, like, six of them in the box, then I got really excited about these jelly belly Harry Potter-esque candies AND the fact that Five Below carried candy cigarettes and bought too many of both. He got some of those, too. I didn’t realize how elaborate the packages were supposed to be! I feel like an asshole. If you ever read this, Scott, I apologize for being a bad sender.
I’m writing this on Thursday, but I can’t post it until Friday. Hello, future!
Other things that have happened in the past month:
1. I officially joined the church I’ve been going to for the past year. I never, ever planned on going to another church, let alone joining one, after all the stuff I had to deal with (and still am dealing with) from the First Church of Guano. I had a massive panic attack in the parking lot Sunday morning before I went in for the service. But I got through it and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and now they’re stuck with me and my craziness, so joke’s on them!
2. I made a major, life-changing decision! But I’m not ready to talk about it.
3. I’m currently in the process of making cinnamon rolls for the first time this year. This is the first time I’ve baked something in a couple of weeks, which is a record for me. I always tried to make something at least twice a week. It was really hard for me to not get upset every time I took something out to cool. I always set aside two for Aunt Doll of everything I made for the past five years, so I’d still reach for that ziplock container every time. Blah. This is still hard.
3b. I almost had a side job as a baker/barista at a new cafe/store that the owner of my very favorite restaurant just opened. But then he never called me when he said he would, but left random voicemails saying to call him, and when I did, no answer. I have no tolerance for lateness. I do not want to work for a person like that.
4. In the time that elapsed between writing the last sentence and this sentence, I baked my cinnamon rolls! And sweat everywhere. Like, serious boob sweat going on. Cinnamon-roll baking is more of a workout than Zumba, and the reward at the end is way better. They’re delicious, by the way.
5. Estoy muy infermo. Inferma? I forget how Spanish works. But, si. My allergies are so incredibly bad and I don’t want to do anything anymore. I am quite enjoying the local honey allergy remedy, though. I’m not sure if it’s working, but it’s a good excuse to eat a couple spoons of honey every day. (Friday update: OH MY GOD EVEN SICKER HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN WHERE IS MY IMMUNE SYSTEM)
6. I’ve been marathoning Mad Men and I have no idea why I watch this show, except for the clothes. No one is likable, none of the plots are all that interesting, and I get sympathy asthma for everyone who sat in smoke-filled rooms in the ’60s.
I think that’s all for now, blog. Talk to you soon, I think.
Oh, hello. I’m back to make sure no one thinks I’m dead. I do worry about what would happen if I died and my family didn’t know my WordPress password or think to update my blog. Not that it would even matter to me at that point, but I wouldn’t want you to worry, blog.
So, because I’m still totally out of ideas to talk about, here’s some things about me, because Jes tagged me personally (she didn’t, but I like to feel important sometimes) in her post.
1. If I could do anything and money was no object, I’d open a bakery with a free bookstore. The idea is that people bring books they don’t want and others can take books that they do want. Returning after reading is ideal, but optional. All free. A nice little library with no return date. And I’d really like to get paid to bake all day, but I could never afford to be a full-time baker. Fixing former bad spending habits is hard.
2. I started the Zombies C25K program this week, and I’m a little in love with it. Particularly Sam Yao, one of the narrators of the app. Yowza. Somehow, I kept restarting my W1D2 training thing yesterday, so I ended up walking well over a 5k (7, to be precise!) and it felt amazing. I’m not ashamed that “Eye of the Tiger” and Eminem’s “Till I Collapse” are my power songs. And I may dance more than walk during the warmup because it’s all Shakira and Queen and my hips certainly don’t lie. Also I just learned that Sam Yao has a dedicated Tumblr following, like most good things. I really need a visual descriptor for him because right now I picture him like a tiny, Asian Jared Padalecki. It makes sense in my head. Also 2x, I realized I was over [name redacted] when Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone” came on randomly during one of these half-runs and I kept going YES THAT’S SO TRUE. So, there’s that.
3. I’m trying to get my shit together and figure out what to do with my life. I know I don’t want to stay in the Pittsburgh area forever. I’m considering a few places to move to, including London, San Francisco, and Vancouver. I just need to figure out logistics and save money and find a job and yay. You can come with me, blog. It’ll be fun.
4. When I was in, like, 8th grade, around the same time as the “I’m related to Nsync!” thing, I was absolutely convinced I’d be a famous singer/actress one day. I’m basically tone deaf and my acting is definitely on the recurring soap opera guest star level, but I’m sure it’s going to happen one day.
5. Doctor Who has taught me so much about myself and life and I didn’t realize it until recently. In my journey away from being a mega bitch and just a regular one, I try to remember that everyone is important and treat them as such, even awful coworkers and yuppies who cut me off in the Chipotle parking lot. And sometimes I have to remember that I am, too, because it’s too easy to see light in others and completely ignore myself. I could talk about Doctor Who all day long.
And speaking of, new Doctor Who in five minutes, so toodles, blog.
Hey, blog.
What’s up, Duff?
It’s been requested of me to write something, so here’s something.
Today I waited in line for about four hours in the bitter, bitter cold to meet Buddy Valastro, love of my life and beautifier of my captioning days. And to get cake. We’ve been home since about 3:30. It’s 8:30 now. I’m still a bit cold. It was that bad. I wish I would have had time to say more than DERP I CAPTION YOU, though. I have so many questions about baking I’d love to be able to ask him. Man. Maybe I should just try out for Next Great Baker already. I think I’m ready for it. One of my favorite local restaurants is hiring a full-time baker/part-time barista. They can’t afford me, but I’d consider applying for the job if I didn’t have a thousand bills. Hip-hop Baking is my passion. Barista-ing, too. If someone wants to buy me a couple of these 5″ cake pans so I can make a ton of tiny cute things and work on my decorating, I wouldn’t be upset about it.
Oh, he was also giving out 10,000 cakes. I got a chocolate one and wanted to eat the whole thing with my hands. Delicious. I’ve been on the news like 30 times today, standing in line like a champion. Try to find me. I’m huge and wearing an obnoxious orange scarf that I wear, like, every single day.
Next month marks three years for us, blog. Thanks for being my longest ever relationship. I know I can count on you not to play with my emotions and leave me for a toddler. Please don’t be offended that I have a crush on like every guy I know right now. It’s just a phase, I’m sure. We’ll grow old and cranky together, blog. I know it.
Here’s a random story that I keep thinking I should write about:
In 8th grade, I told my entire class and this theater group I was a part of that I was related to Chris Kirkpatrick of Nsync. I thought it would be more believable if I chose on of the lesser members, and I even forged a bunch of notes that I supposedly had him and the other boys write for my friends and not-so-friends. I have no idea why I did this. I guess I just wanted people to think I was cool. I remember being so embarrassed like a week later and never wanted to think about it again, but now it’s really funny. I think if I had to choose someone to be fake-related to these days I’d choose Rupert Grint or David Tennant, mostly because I want to muss both of their hairs. Muss is a good word.
That’s all for now because it’s way too cold to keep my hands out of the blankets. One day, I will live somewhere that is not 30 degrees in April.
Good night, blog.
Obligatory other picture:
The Avett boys always know what I need to hear.
Hey, blog.
I didn’t want to let this be the first month where I’ve posted nothing in three years, so here I am.
What have I been doing these past weeks, you ask? So many things!
I got a promotion and a somewhat significant raise at the end of February. I’ve been trying to figure out how to quickly pay off my debts with this extra money, because I’ve seriously had enough. Of course, I ended up screwing up my first big paycheck by paying the wrong bills, and I’ve been living on $6 for the past week and will be until Friday. Times like this are when I’m not too mad about still living at home. I would not have the equivalent of the Chopped kitchen in my own apartment/house. My family are lifesavers.
I’ve also been trying to figure out what I want to do with my life as a career. My job isn’t all that bad, but I know that I don’t want to do it forever. I recently came across a quote by Frederick Buchner that defines vocation as “the peace where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” I just don’t know what my deep gladness is. I’ve been captioning a lot of Oprah lately, and this has been a recurring theme. I don’t know what would make me exceedingly happy. Being an adult is hard. I know I want to go back to school, but I want to go back to school for EVERYTHING. I’ve halfway applied to probably 20 different Master’s programs now.
My hypochondria has been on overdrive the past month, probably from my grief-related anxiety. Off the top of my head, I’ve had meningitis, stomach cancer, endometriosis, dysentery, several brain aneurysms, and TMJ, all on top of the daily multiple heart attacks and strokes, and the diabetes and hypothyroidism I usually think I have (I don’t and I know I don’t. I’m just nuts.) I probably should get back on medication until this all blows over, but the stuff they had me on when Brittani died made me feel like the world was made of jello. I don’t know which feeling is worse. The constant worrying or the constant heaviness. Blah.
Today I also went bowling and got a 77. With bumpers up.
Oh, and, had my insurance stayed the same, I would be getting gastric bypass tomorrow morning. Probably. We were shooting for St. Patrick’s Day. It’s weird to think about. I know that if I had it, I’d be constantly afraid of starving to death or getting a blood clot or dying on the table or dumping syndrome or every other bad thing that could happen. But, God, it would be nice not to be reduced to tears while trying to find a dress for a friend’s wedding because there are zero fat-size stores around here, and the places that do carry fat dresses just have a lot of horrible things. (I did well, though!) My sister had her first encounter with trying to find nice plus-size clothes. She’s always been able to find things on the higher end of the straight-size stores. It was sad to keep hearing her say how she just needs to lose a bunch of weight every time she tried something way too old for her on. I kept telling her that the industry is the problem, not her body. I was reminding myself, too. There is absolutely no reason why there aren’t affordable, nice clothes for fat girls considering we make up a huge (yup) part of the market in Western society. That’s a rant for another time, though.
So, there we go. It was nice to see you today, blog. Maybe we’ll chat again soon. I’m trying to figure out what to do with you.
(Here’s a picture of a sloth because I love you. Have you ever watched a sloth poop? Here you go. You’re welcome. I captioned the version of this that was on Animal Planet and it’s the absolute highlight of my career so far.)
If Danny Trejo was my menacing best friend, I would have a lot less problems because I would make him stare at whatever until the problem was solved.
Supervisor freaking out because I’m taking three seconds to return a text at work because this is not 1994 and cellphones are a thing now?
My crush of the day not hearing my mental cries of LET ME LOVE YOU I AM THE GREATEST LETS GET CAKE?
Chinese restaurant blaring Fox News while I’m trying to enjoy my chicken in sugar sauce?
My crazy dog keeps carrying around her monkey toy and crying but not verbally telling me what’s wrong, leaving me to Google dog symptoms and wondering why there is no canine equivalent to WebMD?
Sad person pinning pictures of me on her pro-ana thinspo board?
The internet not respecting the fact that I’m only halfway through the Harry Potter series and would appreciate to remain spoiler-free even though it’s been a lot of years since the books and movies came out, thanks?
Sallie Mae having the audacity to think my English degree is worth $60k?
Sending out my 500th résumé in a year and only hearing back from three places, getting an interview from two, and not being hired at either?
That guy texting me solely because his girlfriend is ignoring him?
Eye insurance no longer covering more than $100 of my contacts and needing $400 more than that?
Fat-shaming coworkers who are fat and I kind of feel bad about it because they don’t love themselves at all, but, still, shut up?
Feeling like a big fat grossy-pants annoying person with bad hair?
