The Doubtful Guest's blog

"Just pour them in your underwear, leave them there as best you can, and don't wash your crotch for about a week."
Story here.

In case you're not on my email list, here's the official notice that the wedding has been postponed.
Dave and I have way too much going on right now, and the stress of wedding planning was pushing us too hard.
I'll post details as I know them.
Meanwhile, we continue happily nesting. Look for a housewarming party notice next month!

After a staggeringly exhausting time in Houston (family) and then coming to Louisiana where the chowder-heads rule the streets, spent another day at muddy dodge-from-the-rain fest, we finally found a few things that just made this trip a whole lot better:

• Cheeseburgers and a brewery
• A 24-hour diner (Deja Vu) that serves food (actual food - not fancy, overpriced, or unpronounceable) populated with real people a mere two blocks from our hotel
  
• A server (Jeff) who brought us breakfast, took a quick look and said "you're here for the fest, right? Having trouble finding a place for people like us? Let me show you the way." And he gave us a map. And told us where to party later where the overwhelming chowderhead population is not.

Our vacation just improved dramatically.

Thank all your gods or whatever. We have an in.

Whew.

I am fortunate to be:

• alive
• with Dave
• seeing family tomorrow
• nearly packed up all eBay shit
• settling into new apartment

I'm innocently playing scrabble on facebook (the only decent use for it) and suddenly, I see this:

Friends are not to be in ads. Not ever . OK?

KthxBai.

 

I am lucky because:

I am lucky:

• to be alive
• to have Dave
• to have my family (both human and feline) and their good health
  
• to live in a rent-controlled apartment

I made myself a bracelet that says, "it is what it is." The words face inward because they're meant for me.
Maybe if I can remember that sentiment more often, I'll stop focusing on what I've lost and concentrate on what I have.

Millions of people have it worse and I am lucky. Even when it doesn't feel that way.

Ugh.
Bleh.
Feh.
Poo.

Me: "I rode my scooter recently. Before you start, I know what you think."
Her: "Let me count to 10 first. OK, now let's go into all the reasons you want to live."

Feh, I say, FEH.

I hate therapy. I love my therapist, but damn it, why does she always have to make sense?
I'm up to my neck in trying to reframe things.
It's too big.
I'm have cognitive issues.
I'm scared.

I want my life back.
You know, the one where I could have more than four glasses of wine without freaking and could consider the odd street drug if it came to pass (even if I didn't do it, I still had a fucking choice). The one where I could ride my scooter without endangering my life.

Choice and carefree are words that have less meaning than ever.

...let's try this again...

If you haven't seen this movie, I highly recommend that you do.
Great dialog - very witty - and yet simultaneously touching.
To whit:

I've a bunch of synthetic extensions in varying colors; mostly straight with a couple of packs of the lock-tight variety.
Anyone want?
I'd rather give them to a friend than plop them on eBay.

Full-pack colors are red, black, purple, blue, white (2 packs) - plus a few rounds of extra hairs on the side.

Only catch is that you gotta come get 'em before next Wednesday.