It's a mess in here!!

Yes folks it's a mess in my head tonight. My brain is a little bit like the nest of these squirrels which prompted me to share them with you. I know they are rodents and have fleas and such but I have always admired squirrels. Except for their need to be smashed by cars at any given moment they are really quite resilient. They can figure out any squirrel-proof bird feeder I have ever seen. Our squirrels in Arkansas would stand at the base of the bird feeder pole and look into the house reminding us that if we did not feed them they would capture the bird castle and all its seed. They would even come up on the deck and peer into the French doors. Cheeky little bastards! And I think it is this cheek that I like. They are saucy, feisty, and barky and who doesn't like that in a squirrel?

I am trying out a new strategy this week. My depression has been bad lately. Not...I am going to throw myself off a bridge bad but hard to function none the less. I have felt fragile...like one more thing was going to send me to the ward. If that happens, by the way, I expect you all to visit me and bring doughnuts! Depression is the silent disease...or not so silent in my case because I have no problem talking about it with others. The problem is that I have a problem in my relationship with my depression. I will become very quiet as I carry on my silent fight with it. I will tell it to go the fuck away!! It has no business here but it does not listen. I fight it and I fight it and I refuse to let it win most days. But you know what...that takes a toll on my emotional and mental energy.

I have always known that I have depression. I did not always know what to call it but I always knew it was there. One day I will be fairly perky and in a good mood for no good reason...even hyper and the next day I will wake up and...good feeling gone now. I argue with myself. I criticize myself. I tell myself all of the reasons why I have no right to feel depressed. Because you see...that is the evil of depression...the secret brain illness that no one can see. Unless you are a sobbing heap on the couch with the Oreos and the ice cream. There is no good reason for it sometimes...it just is. It is always there with you waiting to rear its ugly little head. Lurking behind your façade that you show to others so you don't make them uncomfortable.

Oh look a chicken...I am wandering off topic...AGAIN! So...my strategy this week has been to try and just live with the monster in my head. Because I will talk about my depression and put a happy face on it but I have never wanted to admit that I can't control it. I have never wanted to admit to myself that I can not defeat it with logic. I have never wanted to admit that I have this flaw that I cannot fix. I lie to myself and I try to explain it to others so that they will understand but it's hard to convince others when you cannot convince yourself.

My depression sucks you all and I have NO CONTROL over it. Dammit...it's true. Every day is a battle to get out of bed and get to work. Every day I try to put on a brave face no matter how crappy I feel...and it's not a good face let me tell you...because I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve...so people who know me well can tell I am struggling but they have no idea how bad it really is because I bury it in my lie. So this week I have been working on just accepting my depression for what it is. I have been embracing the suckiness so to speak. I have been telling myself...okay...you are depressed...let's just feel it and deal with it and move throughout our day without fighting it. It's there...no more lies...it's there...but we have to move forward. It has been working fairly well until tonight.

Tonight I am embracing the bastard but the bastard is fighting back. My brain is racing a hundred miles an hour. It's taking everything I have to concentrate on writing this. I am listening to my beloved Corgi, Fiona, snoring on her pillow knowing that soon I may have to let her go. It's killing me. She is 14 now and her hips are gone and her kidneys are beginning to show signs of strain and I am straining with her trying to decide if we are ready to make that decision yet. Is she ready to go? Can I let her go? Have I done all that I can do for her? She's so brilliant but alas...she cannot speak to me...and let's face it...it would be in Welsh and it would probably be a curse and I would not understand it anyway.

So tonight I sit with my depression and my squirrel's nest of a brain and wonder what the hell I am doing. I guess...like my little saucy friends...I will keep trying to make friends with the monster in my head. Even if it plows me down in the road. It's better than fighting with it and trying to keep the internal lie alive. God...I am tired.

Ah...Can you smell the rubbish from here?

Lots of rubbish roaming around in my head tonight so here goes....

Today I was behind a lady at McDonald's who was very concerned about how many calories were in their iced coffee. All the while puffing on a cigarette. I am so glad you are worrying about getting fat and not about the state of your lungs. Ah well....

I then saw a truck that proudly announced the name of the business as Redeemed something or other. Now...don't get me wrong here...I am happy that he is happy that he is redeemed and all but I am puzzled about using it as a business name. Is he just happy and celebrating his redemption? Is he bragging about his redemption and thumbing his nose at those who are less redeemed? Is this supposed to make me believe that he will do better work because he is redeemed? If he screws up the job will Jesus make it right? It's a conundrum. I think I will never call him for a job just because he is too confusing.

I would like to make an announcement to my fellow Americans. As you can tell by my photo I am not a small and girlie woman. In fact...I am a 5'7''...300 pound...hunk of human being. I am built like a small truck. This is not because of a lot of effort on my part. I come from a long line of stocky females. I also have no control over the fact that I have PCOS. This means that I have cysts on my ovaries that do not allow me to have the proper hormonal balance. Thus...I have too much androgen and not enough estrogen. Aside from not being able to lose weight easily and having to shave every morning I don't notice it all that much. However...I would like you to TRUST me to know which bathroom is the correct one for me to use. I realize that I don't look like you. I realize that I choose to live my life the way I feel the most comfortable so I do not wear a lot of feminine clothing. Trust me...you would not feel any safer when I walked into the bathroom in a girlie outfit...you would definitely think that someone transgender had walked in at that point. Think...sailor in drag! It's not pretty. So...when you see me walk in...don't panic...it's just me and my original equipment. I am still sporting the vagina God gave me without alterations so you can relax. Rest assured I have no interest in what you are doing in the bathroom. I am there to use the toilet and move on. So let's just trust one another that we can read a sign and use common sense and go into proper bathroom and go right back to ignoring one another as much as possible. Because...and trust me on this...I am old and cranky...and if you say something to me or decide you want security to remove me...you are not going to be happy with the resulting conversation. Thank you!

Let's just make everyone mad while we are at it. Here in America you can pretty much say whatever stupid, misogynistic, racist, homophobic garbage you want. That is your right. But you must understand that society collectively sets our social norms on what is acceptable and unacceptable. You have to realize that most of us have moved on. So...when you say these things you must understand that there could be consequences for your behavior. You might alienate friends and family, you might lose your job, you might get your butt kicked. So spew all the rubbish you want but understand there could be a steep price tag. Oh...and if you feel free enough to fly that piece of Confederate bull shit and expect me not be offended by it then I expect you not to be offended by the finger I salute it with when I drive by your house. Fair is fair.

You might be asking yourself...Karen...where is all this anger and bitterness coming from? Well...I blame the Republicans and the internet. Now...I am going to go watch nonsense TV and eat food that is bad for me. Carry on!

Flat Squirrel Buffet

Mother Nature has put on quite the show this evening. Evidently one of the neighborhood squirrels lost a race with an automobile today and wound up squished in the middle of the street. I did not notice said tragedy right away. However, as I sat here on the couch, diving into my Popeye's chicken I saw a rather large shadow come across my front yard.

Holy crap! It's a Turkey Buzzard!! Now I live a block off a very busy road and I can see the Kum N' Go from my front windows so it's not like I am out in the country. So...said Turkey Buzzard, completely oblivious to the fact that he/she is ruining my appetite, plopped down and started doing what buzzards do...you know circle of life crap. Next thing I know here comes one of the neighborhood cats...of which there seem to be a multitude...and he/she decides to challenge the buzzard to a duel over the squished squirrel.

The Buzzard won that battle with a stretch of the wings, which convinced the cat that, yes, that buzzard is twice as big as me. The cat still hung in there though even though he/she retreated to a safer distance. Finally the buzzard lost interest and wandered over to the curb. Then the cat got all saucy and ran right at the bird...which just flew off making sarcastic anti-feline comments. The cat sauntered over and checked out the flat squirrel offering but decided that was just a bit too gross for him/her.

I finished my supper and came back into the living room and walked over to the front door to check out the naturalistic tableau and what should I see...a gopher...seriously people. It was running around the front yard and then would scoot back under my neighbor's house. I wonder if it is a relative of the gopher I wrangled out from under Martha's car at our old building. It is really close. Anyway...a gopher.

So I am going to sit here on my couch and keep an eye out for the next chapter. Who knows what might come roaming down the street next. Stay tuned....

For the love of God...make it stop.

Now this sentiment could refer to a lot of different things...and with my brain it does...so we are going to discuss things that need to stop.

1.  The annual Spring of Karen's angst. March is a very tough month for me and end of April is no peach either. Every year it starts off good with my friend Julie's birthday and then it just goes downhill from there. March 9th brings mom's birthday and this year would have been her 90th so that brought all sorts of angst with it. Then the 19th brings dad's birthday with all it's different sort of angst. All sorts of reexamining the cause of his douche-ness. Then the 31st is my anniversary. 21 years this year. But even that is sad because we are living 12 hours apart. Partly due to circumstance and partly due to choice and that brings all sorts of life choice angst. Like...what the fuck am I doing? I am wasting my life...you know...that sort of fun.
Then we have Easter. Now...I know Easter is supposed to be a joyous time but I have never been able to warm up to that feeling. To me it's just another year of marking the time things got so bad that God sent his only son down and we STILL DID NOT LEARN A DAMN THING! Yes...I am bitter.
Then comes the pollen that plagues my brain and the storms that make me hyper, or should I say, more hyper and it all comes crashing down at the end of April with the anniversary of mom's death. Yea me! This is why I prefer the Fall quite frankly.

2.  People need to understand that other folks do not process information the way they do. No one listens anymore. Especially if you are JUST an admin. They feel free to talk over you and not really listen to you and then have the gall to be upset when you get upset in return. No one person's time is more important than another person's time. Stop...and listen...and when you ask those of us with ADD a question...STOP...and let us process the question before you stalk off thinking we are idiots. Some of us need time to process the question before our brain will let us answer. Have patience with one another people.

3.  The other day I was driving to my dentist appointment when I saw a truck with a personalized Arkansas tag. Now...I get it...I really do...I lived in Fayetteville for five years...I understand your love for all things hog related. But seriously dude...driving around with a truck tag that says piglvr...that just needs to stop!! Scary place in my head now. I have never recovered from Deliverance.

4.  Today a squirrel met me in the driveway and proceeded to climb straight up the brick wall of my house. This needs to stop because quite frankly it freaked me out a little bit.

5.  Baker needs to stop obsessing over Kitten Face's whereabouts...especially if he is going to be dorky about it. This is how the conversation goes..."Baker...you JUST saw the cat in the kitchen two seconds ago...you looked right at her and barked...you JUST saw her so why are you standing in the spare bedroom staring at the armoire?"

6.  Girl Scouts need to stop selling Thin Mints because I have no self control.

7.  People need to stop hating one another...end of story!! Just stop!!

I was going to do 10 things but my ADD is so bad that I lost my train of thought. Maybe I will get back to it some day...oh look a chicken....

It's all awhirl tonight folks!

Yep...that's right my brain is rampaging out of control tonight with all sorts of rubbish running around in it and it's about to spew.

Why is it that my 3 legged Baker can see the cat in the kitchen, can whine at said cat in the kitchen, jump up on the cabinet door to annoy said cat and yet still run straight back to the Armoire and obsess about the cat he has just seen in the KITCHEN??  And why does he try to open closed doors by banging his nose into them? That has got to sting a bit.

And why is my neighbor choosing to stand out in her yard and yell at the woman across the street about whatever drama they are choosing to have today? This isn't the trailer park sister. Either go over there and duke it out or shut up about it and go inside. Because oddly enough...I don't give a damn!

When I go out to see my friends' band play I like to call it going to the Drunken Olympics. The Drunken Olympics has many great events. One of my favorites in the Dirty Dancing portion of the program. If I could wash my eyeballs I would sometimes.

Then there is the Toilet Expedition portion that is open to all contestants. There are many phases to this event. There is the where is the bathroom investigation...followed by the is it remotely clean check out...rapidly followed by the question portion of the evening. Does it have doors or shower curtains? Are there anything remotely resembling locks and if I lock said door can I unlock it to get out? Does it have paper towels or those air thingies? I hate those air thingies. Does it have a handicapped stall so I can get back up? Why does it have a sissy bar for a handicapped person but the toilet is so low a dwarf would have issues getting back up off it? This is closely related to the if I shut this door it will be right up against my knees but I REALLY have to pee and now that I am down here how on earth am I going to get back up? Panic can strike at this moment but you must remain calm while you try to figure out how you can get up without EMT assistance. Men...this is why we go to the bathroom together...it's all about a potential rescue.

Another great event is the I play guitar too and I can tell you what you are doing wrong portion of the evening. Always an awkward favorite of mine. This is closely related to the Play "Freebird" portion of the evening. The more advanced competitors even offer bribes but the band remains true to their ideals and pretends like they don't know it. Big points for denial right there.

Then there's the two drunken girls dancing event. You don't see this every time because they travel in pairs and it's hard to coordinate their schedules I do believe. There's the I started the evening out being normal but now I just keep getting louder and louder event. This is not a gender specific event. Both men and women can compete on an even obnoxious field. Ah..fun times right there.

Why does the media insist that I must care about what "celebrities" are doing every second of the day? I REALLY...REALLY...don't care. I don't care about ANY of the Kardashians. I don't care about who Kristen Stewart is dating. I don't care about rumors of divorces and breakups. I don't care if Justin Bieber misses Selena Gomez. Seriously...I really don't care. None of this has anything to do with living my life. Strangely enough I do not need the details of their private lives to distract me from mine.

Okay...I think my brain is tired now. I had a whole political diatribe typed out here but I deleted it. I am just too tired to play the hate game right now. Just make it stop people. Just STOP!

Bird Shenanigans...we are not so different

I was sitting out in the backyard with the dogs this morning trying to wake up and at least appear alert. I was watching Baker run around looking for a new escape route that might have somehow appeared overnight. Owen is just running around aimlessly trying to figure out what dogs do outside. Fiona is navigating her way across the yard to find a spot she can get stuck in. The usual morning exercise.

As I sat there trying to put together some form of coherent thought I heard a ruckus and looked around for it. It didn't take long. There was a full-on bird brawl in my back yard. The participants were 3 Cardinals. One male and two females. I watched trying to figure out just what the drama was about. They looked like young birds. At one point they took their brawl to the yard but I yelled...hey three dogs in the yard...you might want to move on...which they did ever so politely.

At some point I noticed the prime combatants were the two females. Well...one was aggressively after the other one. The male seemed to be just enjoying the brawl. Then it suddenly occurred to me. He was trying to corner one or both and have sex while the one female was trying to drive off the competition. Who knew birds had "that bitch is tryin' is trying to steal my man" moments?

So then I paid more attention to see what the fuss was about but ladies I didn't see the attraction. He wasn't a large and fluffy male Cardinal. He was a nice shade of red but nothing special. I think it was more like teen bird drama. So...I decided it must be that he is a "hot mess" and the girls want to fix him. I am not sure who won the battle but I would assume that determined female won because her aggression was something to behold. That girl was pissed! And I thought...wow...we are just really not so different. Hmmmm...who knew??

Riding the Rollercoaster

Well...hello there...I have been gone for awhile I see. Life has been rather chaotic these last couple of months and I am just now to the point where I feel that I can write something coherent.

First my beloved cousin passed away just before Christmas and then my Christmas vacation was a mess. I had to cut it short due to a blizzard warning and then came home to a biblical flood and four feet of water in the basement. Nine days without hot water. Shuttling back and forth from the hotel to the house. Dogs in the vet. Me still trying to work amidst the chaos.

Made the decision to try and look for a house to buy. Thought I had found the perfect one the first day only to find out it had been sold and the internet had not been updated. Gutted! I kept looking but could not find a good house in my price range in Carthage so expanded to Joplin. Then another cousin died. We were not as close as myself and Connie were but it was still distressing none the less. Trying to shop for a house, dealing with grief, trying to pack in anticipation of moving, working, worrying about Fiona's decreasing mobility...life was a mess.

I found a house and was (and am) overjoyed with it. It is ME. My little hobbit house. But now came the stress of moving. Packing, inspections, paperwork, phone calls, having to ask for help moving...all the stress and excitement one girl could handle. Especially one who is not all that adept at handling a lot of change all at once. Not to mention the patience of a gnat. My poor realtor was SO patient.

The house closed a week early. I moved that weekend trying to take advantage of the day off on President's Day. My new house looks like the old house threw up in it but I am working on it slowly. I finally got the kitchen put together. It took forever to find my silverware for some reason. It was quite the adventure trying to get that huge turkey platter I bought my grandma up in a cabinet. It is wedged in an unnatural fowl position but I never use it so it should be fine. Why do I still have it? No clue.

Hopefully I will get more stuff cleared away this weekend. It's beginning to bug even me. My stress levels seem to be returning to normal. My homicidal impluses from earlier this week seem have abated. My hormones must have shifted back to their normal dysfunction. Aside from my brush with death at lunchtime today I seem to be doing much better. Oh...lunchtime death interlude...I will steal the story from my FB post rather than retype it here...

I went home for lunch and took the dogs out and then came in to eat my double quarter pounder with cheese. Whilst eating I choked like I do and went into a really horrible asthma attack. Nasty! I ran to the bathroom with my arms in the air trying to clear my airway. Sat there on the toilet thinking this could possibly be it. I am going to die on the toilet like Elvis. Every time I coughed I got an unbearable pain in my arms. I was on the verge of tears when it finally calmed ...down. At this point I realized two things...Baker was in my lunch and I had to change clothes to go back to work. I come out of the bathroom and sure enough he had eaten the other half of my burger. I almost cried and then I almost killed him. It took a great deal of self restraint to only smack him on the ass with the McDonald's bag. Both scary and infuriating at the same time. Now he will probably poop all over the house since I can't be there to let him out when it hits. Can this day be over now please?

We all survived and hopefully we shall get off this rollercoaster soon. I am too old for rollercoasters and I am out of Dramamine.