Category Archives: Pretty happy fun friends

It’s new to me

Another rainy day. I wish I was in San Francisco, watching the Giants play. If you had told me a year ago that I’d feel that way now, I would’ve laughed in your face. I grew up in the midwest, as you may know, where sports are king. Mostly football, followed by basketball and then baseball. In fact, basketball and baseball might be interchangeable. Basically, everything is about football. High school and college. It’s what I grew up with. It’s what we watched. That and basketball. We weren’t big baseball fans. We watched part of a game here or there, and we always supported our favorite college team. When the Redhawks were still the ’89ers, I went to a game. I’ve watched part of the Big XII tournament at the Brick, but I was mostly concerned with the hot guys because I was 22 and I thought baseball was boring.

Fast forward to last year, when I moved back to California. The BFF and I had a friend who was a huge Giants fan, and The BFF always was a Giants fan, so we started watching the games together. At first I was bored. I didn’t care. Okay, it’s the Giants and since I went to OSU, I am engineered to bleed black and orange AND deal with the crushing defeat of my team when we screw everything up. The BFF forced me to read articles about the Giants in the paper and then we’d go over them, her explaining the terminology I didn’t quite understand. I was still bored.

And then one day, it just clicked. I have always known the basic mechanics of baseball, but I never saw the strategy. I never saw how it could be exciting. And then I was pretty much hooked. So now I enjoy baseball and look forward to watching the games and expanding my knowledge away from one team but I really love this one team A LOT.




What not to do, or something

Yesterday, we did some shopping and whatnot to continue getting our apartment in order. It included a trip to Comcast, where I had to pay an arm and a leg to get a DVR because there hadn’t been one available when the guy came in to install everything earlier in the week. UGH. So when we got home, the stupid thing didn’t work and I was ready to bust some heads. I called Comcast and I had kind of maybe imbibed a little too much beforehand and the things the woman kept telling me just went in one ear and out the other. Fortunately, we escaped the call unscathed and now our DVR works. Woo!

Today we went to the pool and hung out in the spa and it was like sitting in a big glass of champagne. So many bubbles! The tickles! Right now we’re watching a thing about the Civil War. I love the History Channel.

How has your holiday weekend been, internets?

Sleepy with a side of heartburn


We didn’t do much tonight. We took last night and tonight off from move-related matters because we were getting grumpy and frazzled and we both just needed some down time from all the chaos. Things are a little better except now I have some raging heartburn. Blech.

Tonight we watched a documentary that I had seen part of before and that BFF had seen all of – Super High Me. I love it, mostly because pot jokes by people who smoke pot are hilarious. But I got angry at the end when they showed the DEA raiding the dispensaries. I always get angry when people try to stand in the way of help for the people who need it most. The healthcare system in this country is fucking atrocious and I defy you to find an example of how it is awesome for someone with little to no income and chronic illnesses or pre-existing conditions. GIVE ME CONCRETE EVIDENCE OF HOW OUR HEALTHCARE SYSTEM GIVES A FUCK AND MAYBE I’LL CHANGE MY TUNE.


So when I watch the DEA taking away the medication that a lot of people rely on to function pain free or anxiety free or nausea free or WHATEVER FREE, I get really angry. Why not just go down to the local Rite Aid and close down that pharmacy too? Because the shit they’re pushing is way more harmful than the stuff being sold at dispensaries.

Forever is tomorrow is today

This afternoon, I spent half an hour in a small room at a doctor’s office with my best friend, listening while an understanding but purposeful doctor drilled her about her mental health. It’s all part of the disability application process. A hard part. A part that leaves people feeling judged and hopeless, because really how much can a complete stranger tell about your disability in such a short amount of time? There’s no easy way to capture what life is like for us; I’ve tried dozens and dozens of times and can never find the right words. Everything seems so simplified and black and white when in reality, it’s a chaotic rollercoaster that we can’t ever exit.

She’s exhausted. When we left the doctor’s office, she was gray. Sweating and gray and shaking like a leaf. When her anxiety, panic, and agoraphobia get really bad, she becomes vacant. A shell. I don’t like it. When other people cause her to shift into that place, I get angry. I don’t like to see my best friend suffer.

I’m not really sure what the point of this is…just a small glimpse into another day in the life. I’m so tired of these days, full of doctors who don’t listen or don’t care or demand evidence that you are as sick as you say even though you’re a shaky, absent, incoherent wreck on the exam table.

I’m tired. Down to the bone tired. And if it’s this hard for me, if it’s this hard for me to draw up the memories of certain days or months or periods of time, then how hard is it for her, the person who has lived them firsthand?

Look at all the fucks I give!


Okay, so first things first, work is pretty awesome and I enjoy being employed LIKE A BOSS. My coworkers are nice and fun to work with and we get shit done while still being awesome. I am terrified of the day when I am shoved into the swimming pool and forced to sink or swim, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Other than that though, holy balls. People were supremely douchey this week. First there is Little Girl, who I have written off as a person I ever want to have anything to do with again. I can take or leave Little Girl, but she is kind of involved in The BFF’s life, so while I can be flip and give zero fucks about her, I still need to be supportive of The BFF. And then there is this other person, who I will not mention by name or otherwise right now, but ugh. If you read my blog, just…ugh. Go away. I don’t want your traffic here.

Now. I NEED TO GET MY ASS IN BED. Well. It’s already IN bed but it needs to get to sleep. Also: can we take a moment to observe the awesometasticness of Wisconsin, Libya, and Bahrain (not to mention all of the other countries fighting to have their voices heard)? Because damn, y’all. YOU ARE GETTING SHIT DONE.

Upon my last work-free weekend

So you know how I posted a link to those red velvet cheesecake brownies? Guess who came home yesterday with red velvet cupcakes? TWELVE. I ate mine last night. IT WAS SO GOOD OMFG. Like, it was so sweet and sugary and exactly what I needed in my liiiiiiiiiiife.

I’m looking forward to my first day of work. Looking forward to and also VERY TERRIFIED THAT I WILL BE HORRIBLE AT MY JOB. I feel like this every time I start a new job. Deep breath. It’ll be okay, Sparkle Pants. Every Sunday evening for the past few months, I’ve looked wistfully out the window as people move around, wishing I was like them and mentally preparing for the next morning. AND NOW I AM AMONG THEM. It’s a very good feeling.

Apparently later we’re going to the antique fair(e?) and that will be fun because that ish is magically delicious.

I want to eat The BFF’s leftover nachos from their date last night. But I’m going to be good and not do that.



I don’t have much other news than that. I did just discover that you can rebagel things on WP now, so I’m probably going to show you a post I just found for a delicious chicken recipe. Because OM NOM NOM FOOD.

OH THAT’S ANOTHER THING ABOUT HAVING A JOB: REGULAR ACCESS TO FOOD. So I can start getting back on the wagon in terms of not being a failing pile of disorder when it comes to eating. One of the first things I’m going to do when I get paid is make a huge fucking dinner, with like, a huge fucking dessert at the end. And I guess I might let other people eat some of it, too. Last night, Twelve made us bacon bison burgers to celebrate and omfg you guys, you haven’t lived until you’ve eaten one of his bison burgers. It’s like a party in your mouth and then a party in your belly. Tonight we’re having brownies and ice cream and champagne. LIKE A BOSS.


Don’t mind me

I’m just lying in bed having a panic attack. Like, the ceiling is caving in on me, it’s too hot, and I’m all dead inside panic. My chest is seizing up, my mind is racing…I’m really unnaturally obsessed with Cuban Revolution in Durham. I mean, their service was shit, most of the food was mediocre at best, but I’d kind of give anything to be there again, in the dim light with the music blaring while I stuff my face with yucca fries and watch people outside. Or maybe I’m just kind of reliving the night of the concert when I was harassed via text message the entire night – and later blamed for things that happened 3,000 miles away – instead of getting to fully enjoy the night.

Yesterday (Saturday) was so GOOD. Twelve suggested we go to the park, The BFF suggested we have a picnic, and then we did all that. We lounged around on a blanket, played with the dog, did yoga (I slipped out of a position and twinged my back), practiced bellydancing. Later The BFF and I went to the library. We had a bonfire back at Twelve’s house. It was a good day.

Now we’re back home and my brain is flipping out. Thanks a lot, brain.

It’s like candy but with hands!

Me: *digging through purse for hand sanitizer*

Me: *pulls out bottle, opens lid*

Twelve: *gasp!* HEYYYYY! Oh my godddd!

Me: Do you want some?

Twelve: *holds out hands* I just washed my hands but YES PLEASE.

The BFF: IS IT CANDY I WANT SOME…oh. It’s just hand sanitizer.

Twelve: It’s so amazing! *gleeful*

She said pitifully

Me, on the floor and groaning as I readjust my legs: Owwww my hips

The BFF: Your hips?

Me, pitifully: My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps