Archive for category missle-anal-us
She sat there on the edge of the lake with with her feet dangling in the cool dark waters. Her body was present, but her mind drifted off to darker places. Occasionally she was aware of her silent surroundings, but the loudness of her thoughts robbed her of the peacefulness of her surroundings.
She could no more silence the deafening noise of her own thoughts then she could stop the endless flow of the warm tears that streamed down from her cheeks. Her sadness came from years of struggle, and from the realization that most of what she believed to have been the truth in her life was nothing more than a world that only she inhabited.
I’m not sure if the pain of not being able to recognize the fact that she had created the illusion, or the thought that no one around her even noticed its existence was more devastating. Perhaps she lives within a world that only exists within her head, or maybe she is just simply unable to see the world that actually exists.
Either way she is lost within the darkness of the waters. She dangles between two worlds wondering which one holds the truth, unable to discern how to cross over to a world not designed by her own perceptions. Then she wonders if everyone resides in a world of their own design, their own illusions. If she steps into the dark waters will she swim, or simply become a part of them.
Spawn and I have been craving pizza like mad. Pizza in and of itself and the toppings I like on them, NONE of them are bad. It’s that mutha effin’ crust that kicks a diabetic’s ass.
I found one recipe on dietdoctor.com for a pizza with a crust made from cheese and egg.
This doesn’t even remotely sound appetizing to me so I held off and kept searching.
Then I found this one:
I’d never heard of the Fathead movie. I did watch the movie Supersize Me that it was made to openly mock though. Of course, what I got from the latter was:
- McDonald’s had unhealthy food (no shit, sherlock)
- His girlfriend is all about vegan
- Diet can make a huge impact
I completely agree with the first and last and don’t give a shit about the middle one. It got a lot of backlash because he didn’t post a log of what he ate, didn’t use some scientific method, was full a shit on the whole panic part where his doc and gf begged him to stop… hell, I don’t know. I got the vibe it was meant to shock and create a frenzy of fear in America’s overall health, but I tend to not really get sucked in easily and I tend to agree that diet makes a huge impact.
I just tend to lean to the side that low carb (what Fathead trumpets) is the better impact, for me. If gluten-free, vegan is your jam, then that makes an impact for you. Johns Hopkins and their high fat diet that treats epilepsy… awesome. Anytime someone takes a leap to change what they already consume to treat the bad things they feel, I tend to think that is a smart move even if its not completely successful. But there is never one answer to everything or everyone.
All I knew is my ass wanted pizza. So we made this and topped it with bacon, chicken sausage, portabello, and although I wanted to put spinach on it, we didn’t have any.
I had to use a little more almond flour than listed to get a doughy enough feel to start spreading it. Spreading also ended up being more of an oiled hand quickly patting it into a pizza like shape as I didn’t have the paper. I didn’t have to poke any more holes in it after 8 minutes and I wasn’t able to hold it to eat it. I will probably play with another egg and a bit more flour or more cheese. I dusted it with sea salt and garlic, fresh oregano, basil and Spawn tossed some rosemary on it for fun.
It fucking rawked, taste-wise. Even with a fork, it felt, smelled and soothed our soul like pizza.
So… me, the Yankee, the Hippy and one of our other employees went to an “advanced” class on Windows Excel. I say “advanced” since I’m not sure if they just have to mention the buzzwords of “pivot table” or “vlookup” to qualify, but that was about the quality of this course. Our suspicion of exactly how bad it was going to be started when we got a good look of the picture of our instructor.
I’m not sure why this is a thing, but they are now doing courses where the instructor is remote and you have to listen to them over a conference speaker. They can see everything you do on your screen and you spend a majority of your time on mute and only interrupt with questions. Call me old fashioned, but this doesn’t appeal to me at all.
Don’t get me wrong, I see the utilitarian aspects of it. I just think it blows.
Considering the instructor’s photo looked like it was pulled right from her Tinder profile, duckface and all, she looked like she blew too.
And swallowed. A lot. And cheaply.
We spent at least another half hour trying to find a linkedin profile for her, which we found, and it too looked like yet another choice Tinder alternate, except this one was about 50 pounds heavier than the one in our faces currently.
How much lack of self-awareness do you need to think slut photos are “professional?” Why wouldn’t a boss doing their due diligence kind of guide you off a whore-ish cliff in the workplace?
Unfortunately, after the usage of “irregardless” (not a word) and “cumbersun” (cumbersome) and every cliche used backwards, I can only guess from a lack of understanding them, there was no value to be had in the instruction either.
There was not one single question posed to her that she could answer. We stepped through formulas that no person on earth would ever find useful. Most of her knowledge seemed to be based in memorization, in spite of bragging to 30+ years (how old was that fucking picture?) of Excel experience .
Though she wanted to spend a great deal of time on how to make spreadsheets “pretty.” Fuck that noise. If I want to see a pretty spreadsheet, I’ll look here:
They requested we fill out an evaluation for the class when we were done for the day.
Bad move… no, I didn’t hold back. I kind of eviscerated her: her grammar, her Tinder pic, her lack of any real usable instruction or knowledge in the material. However, I did try to finalize it on a positive note and complemented the building, the snacks and the book…
In spite of everything, it was a nice day. The Yankee and I only got in one argument over the fact that Dunkin Donuts sucks epic shit and Krispy Kreme rules. Apparently, Northerners are all about DD for the coffee? …even though the doughnuts blow chodes. I would rather get coffee where the main element – the doughnuts – are actually good. I don’t usually go to doughnut shops for the coffee, but hey. We finally agreed to disagree on that point.
We tried a new wing and ale place for lunch and I had an epic spinach salad with honey bacon that kicked some ass, so all in all total win of a day. Oh yeah, and it wasn’t at fucking work!
ok, I realized I got into stuff that was going on but not a lot about what I ate so I’ll kind of go over that a bit too. I didn’t realize some of you guys were getting anything out of this, I kind of felt like I was just ranting about the flows and ebbs going on. But COOL, if you get something out of it…. even that a slacker like me can do it, so you CERTAINLY can, that’s awesome.
When we picked blueberries, yes I ate some. At most, a dozen. The crop was a bit tart this year. Usually, I eat so much I poop purple. They are mid-range in the carb friendly scale.
Spawn has been AWESOME about learning low carb, and I’ve even discovered a pizza recipe I plan to try when I can devour half the damn thing. I’ll share it if it ends up worth it (why waste your time otherwise, right?). I think I might be able to convert G-uno to my darkside on this one… seriously, fucking cream cheese in the crust? Oh hellya.
Spawn has usually used meat+veg as their go-to for dinner (though they still hesitate to think of meat as low carb sometimes), only occasionally attempting to assemble a salad with mucho questions and input from my end while they do it. However, they make me small portions and sometimes supplement with another shake if they don’t feel it was enough.
The 4th soiree at the Yankee’s? I ate the hell out of some food, man. This is the same person who digs at me about never eating or never leaving for lunch. I had a small steak, a burger with cheese on it only (no bread, no toppings), 4 whole tortilla chips and a mutha load of watermelon salsa (I’m addicted to new things and this was really new to me AND watermelon was oddly enough on the low carb list of fruits… weird I know), or better known as probably .75 to 1 full cup of salsa. I had some of my own onion dip, but I brought baby carrots (ate 5) and celery (ate half a damn bunch) so I had things to dip with. I did not eat at all before we got there, other than water.
I had one sugar-free daiquiri (and was soundly mocked for drinking a girly-looking pink drink) with about half a cup of muscato added to it. I have no damn clue what the hell was in that last one, I just promised to pay penance for it later. I was so full, I was in pain and this was over 4+ hours. Of course, I ate nothing the rest of the day.
Generally, I stick with crepes when I go for breakfast choices, since they have less egg and they are less filling than most omelets. The exception being Kim and her little cafe. Her omelets are very light and just perfectly filling, with one piece of rye toast. Kim is a very, very health-minded cook, but you’d never know it just from the taste. She scoffs at store bought salad dressings, for example, and makes everything herself. Even the rice she uses is a lower GI, diabetic-friendly kind (no, I haven’t tried it, its still too many carbs).
I have days where I get super hungry, so I eat. I have experimented with old places I like to go and see how I can finagle in a way I can eat it, but for good. My favorite burger joint is more than happy to nix the bread and add a salad. That’s cool. They don’t even drown it in dressing (on the side) since I always leave most of it behind.
I’m mostly surprised how much I am not craving sugar. I used to HAVE TO HAVE chocolate after dinner. It never had to be much, but I had to have it. I suppose the protein shakes abate the sweet cravings since they too are sweet, but its not the same… I’m not missing it. I miss mac and potatoes, but I found that a tiny bite of Spawn’s is enough to give me the mental happy high without the physical repercussions. I’m cool with that too.
The only problem I’m still having issues with is what the hell can I use in my coffee aside from sugar. Splenda has been my go to, but I hate it.
- honey? kind of misses the point.
- Stevia? I will punch someone in the throat if I have to taste that shit again.
- xylitol? isn’t that the shit in gum?
Has anyone found a sugar alternative that actually doesn’t taste like shit and can be enjoyed without gagging in a hot beverage?
I did finally have to confess to work, though I said basically it was a low-carb experiment to bring down my A1C. I did NOT tell anyone I was eating super low calorie as well. Again, didn’t want to hear any shit from the all knowing VP.
My diet buddy is about to break the 200 mark, their main goal. Their sugar has not responded as well as mine has, but they have been kicking ass on putting in more activity in their routine and knocking off the weight.
They got kind of frustrated with me, because their goal was 15% of their body weight.
friend: “What’s your goal?”
me:”to kick diabetes’ ass.”
friend:”by doing what?”
me:”eating low to no carb and low cal for 8 weeks, with a steady but slow increase, then low cal cycling until my A1C gets and stays normal and I feel better.”
friend:”you don’t have a pound goal?”
me:”I don’t want my stomach to touch the steering wheel? I dunno, I haven’t weighed myself since the doc did it.”
friend:”… but what do you want to be able to do after this is moving to a more normal intake?”
me:”keep up with three nutso kids while they go trick ‘or’ treating… this time, on foot.”
friend:”I guess that’s a goal.”
me:”I’ll know I’m back to normal then, or at least getting there.”
As I said, I was really super focused on numbers a long time ago when new parenthood created someone in the mirror I didn’t recognize. It is enough to make one crazy because bodies don’t work by logic. You can’t figure out the calories burned, and math out to .00001% how much you ate in calories a day and have that always create a certain amount of loss. I had a fucking spreadsheet man, I was serious!
Too much paprika may make YOU swell, while everyone else on the damn planet pisses like a racehorse when they eat it. Too much olive oil may give YOU the shits and generally make you feel bad. Everyone is different. Apparently, I’m fine with skim milk or raw milk, but anything in between is not ok. Most other dairy products are fine with me. But as a diabetic, if its low-fat… its high in sugar and I need to stay away from it.
The one thing I wasn’t paying attention to was how I was feeling. Maybe if I had, I might have noticed something was wrong before it become a nightmare of a half dozen years.
I think I’ve already gone over how the VP in our department thinks I’m a fucking idiot, something even the Yankee picked up on even though my boss tries her best to play the diplomatic card as much as possible. My boss rocks as they are not the type to get into drama and will get pissed at the issue, not the person. They also have a tendency to try to see the best in others and want to explain bad behavior under a more rational light. Sometimes a bitch is just a bitch. Also, like I told my boss… I have to value the opinion to give a shit what it is.
The VP has more than once told me I scare her. I’m starting to wonder if she isn’t kidding.
The owners decided they wanted to see more training since our financial situation (i.e. people finally started paying their fucking bills and we got bitchier about getting them paid) started getting better. My stress level once this occurred plummeted. Up until that point, the VP wanted to send me to a class on communication skills, which in a meeting with one of the owners and the VP present, I pointed out “There’s only so many ways you can communicate ‘we can’t pay you because we’re not getting paid.'” The owner readily agreed, the VP stfu about it, but it was still on the to-do that we should have training of some sort.
Yankee and I both saw an advanced Excel class we thought might be interesting, so we requested that. VP is not so skilled in Excel, in fact usually asking for Yankee’s help and marveling at the skills, even when its a minor thing. VP and I don’t really interact much work-wise, so it became apparent she had no clue of my skill level when she suggested it would be too much for me, and I just said “I highly doubt it considering I’ve already taken the advanced certification courses. This would be little more than a refresher unless they’re getting into the actual VB coding or in-depth macros without the step-through recorder.”
I lost her somewhere in the first ten words, I could see it in her face. She backpedaled a bit, and it wasn’t long before she had signed up for the same course but before ours.
She came back afterwards and said she learned a couple small things but they didn’t go over anything she didn’t already know. Before I could stop myself I said “well that’s disappointing, I thought it was supposed to be an advanced class.”
The Yankee coughed to hide their snort, but we were rather concerned that we wouldn’t be getting much out of this. It looked like the only classes that were more of our cup of tea were a minimum of two days and about five times the cost. We were told point blank we were not allowed to be gone over one day.
Either way, we finagled it so our project cohort, the Hippy, is also scheduled for this same class (at the Yankee’s house, Hippy mentioned they had no clue how to even request training and they too used spreadsheets a lot, so I put a bug in the VP’s ear. Sometimes, she is useful).
So we get out from having to deal with the VP for at least one day. For that alone, I guess I don’t really mind if I don’t take a lot away from this class, though I’ve never walked away not learning at least something, even if its small. I’m also curious as to whether the VP just didn’t understand a lot of what was being said and filtered it out. Will be interesting to find out. At least the company will be worth it anyway.
I got up on Saturday, like I do, and when I was finally too hungry to deal with it, sat on Spawn on they finally agreed to get the hell out of bed. I find out Spawn has decided to invite Schnookums to breakfast.
They have been going strong since February, truly a record even among adults really. I had also still yet to meet them. I was honestly surprised when Spawn told me Schnookums was coming.
me:”Aw shit, does this mean I have to put on a clean shirt without holes?”
Spawn then informs that they think their mom might be just dropping off Schnookums, possibly with their two younger siblings.
me: “You mean a woman I’ve never met is entrusting me with not one but possibly three of her children? Do you not understand there are people who KNOW me that would never do that?!”
Apparently, Spawn had misinterpreted things, but I was indeed being entrusted with one of her kids. Mom and her brood of three flew in, we shook hands, chitchatted a bit and she flew back out leaving Schnookums behind.
Schnookums was a quiet little soul with an adorable face, very intelligent looking glasses (much like my own, ahem) and probably more wisdom on some things than a person their age should have to be, and insanely gullible in others. I could see the shyness, but it was more based in a fear of saying something that might get a weird response than an actual fear of interaction. In fact, Schnookums seemed very eager to interact. After about half an hour, I’m wondering what the hell Spawn was talking about when I was told this person took a month to work up the courage to share a table with them at lunch.
Schnookums told me about having had a few seizures in the past couple years, but they thought it might be from lack of sleep, so they had a strict bedtime.
They told me about all the places they are getting bounced around to this summer, dad and stepmom soon, then back home for a bit, then to grandma’s. They told me how their stepmom was really strict. I asked them why they thought that was, and they said “because she hates me.”
I asked if they realized the wrath of hell that might descend on their stepmom if so much as a hair on their head were injured under their care. Schnookums got quiet for a minute and said “I never thought about it like that.”
They talked about their irritations with their siblings and various unfairnesses. They told me about the uncle that had promised to one day build them a computer (after finding out I’d done this with Spawn’s) only to never deliver. Schnookums had a lot of pent up frustration with the adults in their life, and I guess I was non-adult enough to be a sounding board for their frustration.
They also talked about how they really didn’t get religion and I’m condensing it in adult language, but they felt it sounded hollow and pretentious to them… and essentially bullshit. I kind of went on to describe how I realized when I was their age, I had no faith. None at all. Up until that point, I’d sat in the front row, took notes and pelted the pastor with dozens of questions they could never really answer and I realized all this in a shitty little bible belt town with no one to talk to about it and no name to really give it.
I went on to say that Spawn however was a believer and I’d always felt that faith and belief systems were all a personal journey, even if it sometimes had to be a quiet one considering where we lived and limitations we had to be in discussing it. I never wanted my beliefs to corrupt Spawn’s own thoughts on it and in just my limited time, I had a vast assortment of many religions in friends and former family close to me. Our only commonality is we didn’t judge.
It’s sad but I live in a state that when surveyed, felt that they would rather hire a gay believer than an atheist. I’m not sure whether to consider the openness for this racist, bigoted little state on one hand somewhat progressive, but its rather insulting on the other too. Kind of a double-handed insult on both ends since why does it matter about either?
Schnookums went on to tell me how their mom was the superhero fan, but they’d never heard of Free Comic Book Day or May the Fourth be with you. Their stepdad was this outdoorsy type, which is why so many weekends they had to spend it hiking. They went on declare to how much they hated it.
Some of the general comments made by this kid while talking, the dry humor especially, at one point, I said “you’d make a really good Lex Luthor type… the evil businessperson plotting global takeover.” To which, they responded “yeah, that’d be cool.”
I immediately like this kid. We ended up chatting until Kim had to close the cafe and I had Schnookums text their mom to make sure it was ok to hang out at our house. Since their mom had dropped off Spawn once, I knew they knew where we lived.
Spawn and Schnookums played on the PS4 on a game I refused to play (I suck at side-scrollers). Schnookums used as many opportunities as possible to touch Spawn’s arm or shoulder or back, while I casually peeked over Spawn’s monitor under the guise of playing Skyrim.
After awhile, the game lost it’s allure and I was once again pelted with questions and observations by Schnookums. They seemed to heave a sigh of relief when I mentioned something about how girls start growing faster than boys and its about the first year of high school when the boys not only catch up but usually fly past. Spawn is not bothered by their general size disparagement but I can tell it bothers Schnookums.
I have never understood this about myself or my home or maybe the environment I create. Spawn’s BFF and their sibling were the same when they came to stay with us one weekend. I was needled to death and pelted with one question after another. It was exhausting. I asked Spawn why in hell kids were drawn to interrogating me, did they smell some weakness I didn’t notice. Spawn just said “because you answer them?”
Damn, that’s just fucking sad.