Bionic

Since this blog is all about MEMEMESHAMELESSSELFINDULGENCESLASHPROMOTIONOFME, and since I am grossly insecure, I will now list and detail (for the purposes of fortifying them in my memory) all the plastic surgery procedures I will one day have. Perfection is attainable if only you try.

1. Rhinoplasty- A shaving down of the bridge of the nose to create a more streamlined affect that matches better with my face. My face is super uneven because of my nose.

2. Have fat taken out of my checks to make my face less fleshy plus cheekbone implants

3. Turkey waddle reduction- suck the fat out of the underside of my chin. duh.

4. I don't know if there is some sort of procedure where they can make your eyes bigger, but if so that is totes on the list. My eyes are disgustingly small. Maybe a brow lift would do the trick?

5. Breast reduction- Big boobs are the grossest.

6. Somehow have fat sucked out of my upper chest so my collar bone protrudes more. I would like my upper body to look like a big coat hanger, thank you

7. Heavy duty liposuction. Even though every girl uses this excuse it really is true that we hold weight in our midsections easier and consequently they are the hardest places to lose extra lbs and tone.

7a. All over stomach lipo, including my flanks and just under my boobs

7b. Back lipo

7c. Lipo of my thighs and calves, especially where the ricotta cheese demon known as cellulite resides

8. LOBOTOMY

Barf

Sitting in the GRK airport, I am acutely aware of the fact that I may or may not be about to heave my Monster M-80 all over myself. Any minute now, my grey luggage will be covered in a fizzy primrose barf ambrosia, I'm almost certain. It has been one of those mornings-well, days that has bled into a new morning, with nary a wink of sleep. My darling man and I parted ways today, he on his way to the Mojave for a month and I home to the east coast, so I was up all night packing and doing last-minute cleaning I swore I would do days ago. I cannot stand the thought of coming back to a grody apartment with eggs and sour cream and steak all becoming science experiments in the fridge, so I did a thorough sweep-through and made myself feel a little better. This trip was slightly unexpected for me. I had planned on staying behind and working, but all my most promising job prospects fell through, so once again disappointed and discouraged I hung my head and conceded that it was best not to be alone for so long with nothing to do and nowhere to go and no one to talk to.

I have been plagued with a chronic morning sickness since the first day of high school, when jitters got the best of me and I spent most of first period in the bathroom with my head out the window, desperate for a restorative breeze to cool my face and calm nerves. The Monster was a bad idea, but I'm drinking it because he bought it for me and was all sweet and cutesy like. He is on standby for his flight but had to be in early to wait around all day, so we said a rushed goodbye outside the airport and shared a brief but cozy embrace in the chilly morning air. We exchanged "I love you's" and last glances over shoulders and he made my heartbeat just a little faster (or was it that damn M-80 again?). I miss his little face already. I need to get on this plane and then the other plane and fall asleep and forget about feeling sick and tired and lonesome. No gagging just yet; I just need to sleep against something that smells like him and wait for this foolery to be over. It can't come soon enough. I'll be waiting.

Did I mention today is our anniversary?

Biscuit's Famous Chicken Terriyaki

This is utterly unrelated to well, anything, but I made this tonight for the first time and I've gotta tell you, it's fantastic. My long time friend Biscuit makes this for me when I'm home and I finally got the recipe from her and had to try it for myself. I add slightly more water than she does since I find the terriyaki and soy sauce a little too salty still, but otherwise it is hers and she has all the credit. It's dead easy as well. My favorite recipes are minimal effort with maximum pleasure and this delivers.

Biscuit's Famous Chicken Terriyaki

2/3 cup soy sauce

1 cup terriyaki sauce

1/2 cup water

1/3 cup sugar

minced garlic clove

1lb of chicken (or however much desired)

enough rice to feed you and yours

1. Make the rice ahead of time and set it aside. It saves you the trouble of fiddling with it after the luscious chicken is all done

2. Chop up the chicken into cubes and bung them into a large frying pan over medium heat until they are nearly cooked through.

3. Mix together the soy, terriyaki, sugar, water and garlic and add it to the chicken

4. Bring to a low simmer for about 10 more minutes until the chicken is fully cooked and all tender and delicious

5. Test the sauce with a spoon (carefully!) to see if it needs more water or soy sauce or whatever. You may like it stronger than I do.

6. Combine chicken and rice in a bowl (don't you love recipes that are best served in a cozy bowl?) and apply to face in front of TV

What Can Blogging Do For You?

Can we talk about something other than my douchey job search woes? Ok, good. Lately I've been thinking about how all this stress is impacting the way people see me, and have really just wanted to come on here and pour my heart out, but I can never bring myself to.

Self-loathing is my only full-time job, and when I look in the mirror (if I can bring myself to do that), I only see a frazzled, scraggly-haired and grey-faced Muppet who is better off going back to Jim Henson's Creature Shop reject bin than getting up and doing anything productive.

What to do, what to do.

It seems that writing is the only thing that salves my dereliction, both inside and out. There has always been something restorative to me about the stream of consciousness flow, the weight of days or weeks of built-up emotions leaves from my fingertips as they tap the keyboard. So many times I write and then look back and think, "That made absolutely no damn sense." And then I feel ashamed or embarrassed at my maudlin show of emotion and delete the post, which is silly because no one really reads them anyway. I think what I am getting at is that when it comes down to it, I don't do this for anyone but myself. I never have. As self-involved as this will sound, I believe I was born to write, in some capacity, and the best things I have written have not been churned out under the pressure of a whizzing-by deadline, but in random moments of inspiration. I wish everyone could know an outlet for their troubles like I know mine. In the future I only wish to be less afraid of posting what is really inside my heart, lest someone make light of my earnestness and cause me to retreat into blogging hermit-dom.

The scariest part is the next part. Hitting "post" and sending it all off into the ether of the interwebs. Of course, it's not nearly that serious. But for a shy girl like myself it can set off another anxiety attack, the kind that the post just written had probably alleviated. Double-edged sword, no? Yes? Ah well, it doesn't really matter.

Writing feels good. Writing makes me feel good, even if what I write is utter shit. And that's that. Now excuse me while I get out of my own head and watch Ugly Betty on Netflix.

Tomorrow

Cross all of the appendages you are feasibly able to cross, because tomorrow I am applying for the 395729374590235490th job I have applied for since living in this lame state/town. I am not even going to say what it is, since that would be quite the jinx, and probably writing this post and putting it out into the universe is probably bad jojo (As David would say), but the die is cast and I do what I want! *stomps off in huff*

So! The wheels will be turning as of tomorrow, and maybe this little morsel put out into the world will come back to me like a boomerang in the form of gainful employment. That is all for now.

God Is In Control, People!

God's got it. A cheery little bon mot from Hallmark card writers to liven your day, but really its true. I've been so down lately, because of a lot of things not just what you may expect, and I have to keep reminding myself that I have a purpose in this world other than to be what I am this very moment. Things can and will change, the currents of my life will vacillate and go bursting forth in the other direction until I am somewhere new.

Fruitful Friday

"You look like hell. You should get some rest."

That's all I ever get any more. Rest. Never ending rest.

Although not really, since when my body is still my mind is not. Lots of things jockey for elbow room in my head space these days, chief among them not having a job. Join the club, you're saying. Many of my recently-graduated peers are lingering on the threadbare line between joblessness and dead-end job-ness, be it in the food service or retail industries, or nannying or what have you. I am not knocking any of those jobs or anyone who is hustling and doing what they have to do to make ends meet. I'm just expressing disappointment in myself that I am not more who I thought I would be at this age. Perhaps it's another one of my delusions of grandeur, and Lord knows I am prone to them, but I thought I would be in grad school, or backpacking through Europe or Asia, "finding myself." The truth is, I seemed to have indeed found myself in this wasteland in Texas, languishing and withering away in housewifely duties.

There has ceased to be a beginning and end to my days. I sleep so often and do so little with my wakefulness that there seems to be little point in getting out of bed. And this is worse than boredom, you guys. This is a chronic fatigue of my whole being, making me stumble in a haze at the grocery store, unable to cut my food at dinner. The lack of anything stimulating my brain seems to have osmosed into the rest of my body, sending me caterwauling into Zombieland. If only Emma Stone and Woody Harrelson were there to keep my company. I need more than a job to keep me and my checking account occupied. I need a new and better perspective on my life, I have realized. I should at least try and go to bed at a decent hour, even if David has to get up 4:30 and puncture my fitful sleep for a few minutes; to make time to write more, since it really does help, after all it was/is my life's passion since I was 5 years old. I would welcome suggestions on how to crawl out of this little hole I have dug, but luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it) not many people visit this little blog. So I will end by saying thank you, whoever you are out there in the ether of the interwebz, for listening.