tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-114315082024-03-07T15:25:44.853-06:00I Stalk LifeLiving vicariously through others with grace and elegance. Okay, no, I'm actually trying to find my own life by stalking the shit out of it!Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-5294691046851728422012-07-18T15:44:00.002-05:002012-07-18T15:44:31.168-05:00Mama's Growing MangoesMy mother likes to grow things. Or perhaps I should say my mom likes to start things growing. My grandma, Mom's mom, could grow anything. If that woman spit on an acorn you'd have an ancient oak in under a week. My mother, on the other hand, has had issues with things growing. She tries. God bless her, she does try. Currently in the kitchen is a mango pit sitting in a shallow bowl of water trying to root. It may actually do so. She got the pineapple top to root. She gets lots of things to root. Then they just...kinda sit there. <br />
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It's not that Mom has no follow through, she does. She's been married to my dad for 47 years and y'all, that's some serious damn follow through. She just has an immensely busy schedule and she doesn't seem to have time to plant the things she roots. For those of us that knit, crochet or craft in general, the pineapples, mangoes, celery and such are Mom's WiPs. Yes, yes now we hear the collective, "ah ha" happening. We all understand WiPs, or works in progress. We all have something in our lives that are our mangoes. For some knitters, it's socks. You know who you are. For some crocheters, it's that blasted afghan that never seems to get finished but you WILL, by God, get to it eventually.<br />
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I have my own mango. It's my Cathedral Rose Window afghan. I have it started, I just can't bring myself to go any further. I want to yell at it to go on without me. To save itself. But then I'd have bigger issues than WiPs if my afghans started dragging themselves toward the door in search of more dedicated people with hooks. Behold. My mango.<br />
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My problem isn't time. It's summer and I'm not in school so time is NOT an issue. Although, I have had a pretty active social life this summer. I have tan lines!! I went outside!! And even though I just got a job for the first time since 2006 (yay me! a job!!!), it's part time and still won't be much of an issue. No, my problem lies with all things shiny and new. I see a new pattern, or get new yarn or hell, get a crap load of free yarn and my mind goes insane with all the ideas and the needing to start things and make them happen now and oooo I wanna try THIS, and....well, you get the picture. After the granny square afghan from the last post, I liked the color play so much that I decided to do more color play and am currently in the middle of this one:<br />
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Once all the squares are sewn together, it will bee a black field with polka dots! i got to figure out how to turn circles into squares. I will radiate out in a pastel rainbow, ending with pink on the outside. In the second picture you can see the bag on the right full of polka dots waiting for black squares. Then....well, then I got two black garbage bags full of yarn. With some things that had already been made. There is so much variegated and solids that I normally wouldn't buy so my mind has gone INSANE. So many possibilities. I wanna sit in a room with nothing but ALL my yarn and figure out what I have and color sort and place together and holy crap there's so much yarn!!!<br />
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See my problem? Okay good. On the same page? Awesome.<br /><br />So of course with all the new things, I now have more WiPs, cuz....yarn.<br />
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This is one I started yesterday. The flower squares were already made but there's LOTS of that yarn in all the colors.<br />
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I sewed all the squares together and worked 2 more rows of the white around them. now I am working on just making a solid blanket bottom for it in simple double crochet, and once it's long enough, I'm taking that pretty pale green and putting a scalloped edge on it. I'm hoping it will look like one of those old fashioned blankets with the hand made embroidery across the top. in my head it is gorgeous. it also makes me miss my grandma cuz y'all, she would have LOVED this. Hell, she might have claimed it for her own. </div>
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So what are you working on?</div>
Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-4504258228713363482012-06-19T23:03:00.000-05:002012-06-19T23:03:26.536-05:00Stalking shit again!<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Check it, y'all. Blog 2.0 with a whole new lease on life. Now I won't feel guilty about not stalking knitters anymore. Yay!! Now I can stalk...everyone. Muahahahahaaa...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Okay, so I'm still crazy, this isn't news. What IS news is I'm going even more insane having taken the summer off from school. I'd like to say I haven't been posting because school has been kicking my ass, but I have a 4.0 that I haven't really had to struggle for. I'm not smart, but everyone else I have class with is slooooooow. Anyway, not here to put down my fellow classmates. Then why AM I here? So glad you asked! I'm here because there are times I find I want to post things that are not Facebook appropriate and I will think to myself, "dumbass, you have a blog," and then I feel all guilty for neglecting the blog and not stalking any knitters. FIXED!! Now I can stalk whatever new shiny has my fancy and nobody can tell me i can't post about it cuz...IT'S MY DAMN BLOG! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> This means I can talk about school, or post recipes which I have threatened to do in the past (psst, semi recipe at the end. Well don't go look NOW! Rude...), or even post things I've made again cuz y'all, Stalker's been crafty again!! For those that don't have the dubious honor of following my crazy on Facebook, here's a pic of the latest afghan I recently finished:</span><br />
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Which totally matches my disco floor blog background and makes me strangely giddy.<br /><br />Speaking of giddy, I'm all little miss dancey pants here lately. If I stand still too long, i start shakin mah booty. If I hear any kind of music, booty shaking. Commercials? You guessed it. Booty. I'm hyper all the freaking time and I am blaming it on the treadmill from my fitness class last semester that I have actually found myself missing. A treadmill. I've missed it. Shoot me now.<br /><br />Anywho, we can delve into more insanity later, for now, a semi recipe!<br /><br />Crispy Oven Roasted Chicken a la Stalker</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4 chicken breast quarters, leg quarters or 8 thighs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1 gallon size Ziploc bag</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Kosher Salt</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ground pepper</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Onion Powder</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Garlic powder</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">24 hours before you plan to cook the chicken (yes, I said 24 hours. Trust me here.) place the chicken into the bag and fill it 3/4ths of the way full. Place in kosher salt, ground pepper, onion powder and garlic powder. I would LOVE to give you measurements, but I never measure when I cook. I can tell you that I thought I had put waaaaay too much ground pepper in there, but it was fine. place chicken in the refrigerator for 24 hours. I put mine in a large pot in the fridge cuz I simply don't trust those bags.<br /><br />When you are ready to cook the chicken, pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Take the chicken out of the bag, rinsing each piece and patting it dry. Place the chicken on a roasting pan, or, if you're like me and not fancy, a foil lined cookie sheet sprayed with cooking spray. Sprinkle some Kosher salt onto the tops of the chicken. This helps the skin crisp up. Bake for approximately 1 hour, until skin is a crisp, golden brown. (internal temperature should be 165 degrees and the juices should run clear. please don't give yourself food poisoning.)<br /><br />Enjoy!! If you try it, please tell me your thoughts on it.<br /><br />Since I've been gone forever again, if you have questions for me or wish an update on something I may have forgotten, please just let me know in the comments. I really don't have anything to hide anymore since you people got to read about me needing to possibly cut scrunchies out of my hair. Laters!<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-66338391797970356472011-07-24T08:47:00.001-05:002011-07-24T08:47:51.688-05:00A REAL post. With Pictures!!<span id="goog_1825763879"></span><span id="goog_1825763880"></span>So I finally have a moment in between my busy schedule of school and...well, school, to post the pictures of the room makeover. I cannot tell you the difference it's made in my general well being. It's soothing to be in here now and I no longer feel as trapped. No, the trapped feeling won't go away until I have graduated, have a job and have become a useful member of society again, but it's been lessened and that's huge.<br />
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School is awesome. Not because I adore my instructors cuz that is sooooo not the case. School is awesome because I've already met some amazing people and I've actually enjoyed getting to be around people again. I finally feel like a lot of the anxiety and panic has gone. I'm not 100% but then I may never say I am again because we all know that when I do I end up right back in the crazy so yeah, not 100% but having a DAMN good time talking to people again.<br />
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What? Oh! Pictures! Right. Sorry. You know me, I ramble. Shut up. Here ya go!! Pictures of the room makeover with commentary! Comment away. :)<br />
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I still have shelves to put up so I can get my dragons back in the room (and out of Mom's dining room, don't judge me) but otherwise, it's such a vast improvement that I'm very happy with it. A huge thanks to my folks for putting up with it and helping and to my nephew, Dylan, for being a champ during the whole process. <br />
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P.S You there. Lurker McLurkerson. There's a comment button below. Click it. Say Hi. Stop being creepy. That's my job, dammit.Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-28992182788021635742011-07-18T19:31:00.000-05:002011-07-18T19:31:04.051-05:00Quicker note:Holy hell, I am exhausted. I have one class that is apparently self taught and another that thinks homework is a present. plus not sleeping well doesn't help. I know, I owe you pictures and stories. They're coming, I swears it!!! Right after I read this next chapter, make a study guide and figu...zzzzzzzzzzStalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-66080089627015903762011-07-14T19:04:00.000-05:002011-07-14T19:04:57.355-05:00Quick note:There's been a room makeover and there are pictures! Also, today was the first day of class so yippee! Also, I am on my way out the door to meet up with my nieces for what is sure to be hell at first but then fun. Midnight Harry Potter premier. I swear I will post something interesting and picture related this weekend. I swear it on my stash. Oh yeah, shit's gettin' real in here.Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-57086130842587844012011-06-17T20:44:00.001-05:002011-06-17T20:54:51.187-05:00Wait...What?So, I'm 39. WTF? Anyway, I've been 39 for a couple of months now so I should be over it but recently it's kind of been slapping me in the face like a loose boob during a random jog. Wait...know what? Nevermind. We'll just roll with it.We all know I'm bat shit crazy by now.<br />
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So, I know I've said it before, that I promise to blog more and blah blah bullshit blah so I'm not gonna make any promises here. Can't make me. But I have found recently that I wanna write and the whole reason behind me ignoring the blog is feeling that my life is boring as shit, which it is, and feeling like I had nothing to talk about, which I don't. So...umm...I'll be blogging...things. Random shit. I know the title of the blog is I Stalk Knitters, and maybe I should change that since I'm not stalking a damn thing. I am currently knitting and crocheting multiple projects but only because I've had some time freed up recently since I no longer spend all day, everyday talking to Cory. We broke up. It's a long story and one I may get to at some point. Or not. Whatever. Just please don't do the whole, "OMG I'm so sorry are you okay men are assholes you're better than that anyway and he never did deserve you!" thing because that's all I've heard the last couple of weeks. I'm fine. Really. He and I both saw it coming, we haven't seen each other face-to-face in 2 years and it seemed ridiculous to continue calling him my boyfriend. Granted, he took the chicken shit way out of it but again, long story.<br />
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So...I'm going back to school. Again. I still haven't been able to find a job as a medical assistant because our economy blows so more schooling works for me. Mom and Dad are being kinda awesome about their sick lump of a daughter nesting in their house for the duration of school. I'm finally going to pursue my dream of becoming a nurse. Dammit. I mean it. This WILL HAPPEN. I start classes on July 14th. Do too! I'm uber excited which seems like a good thing until you realize I'm excited about doing math! You can't even use the "well maybe she just likes college algebra" excuse for me since I'm 2...TWO classes from even being in college algebra. I am math stupid apparently. I got through MA school with a 4.0. But my math skills are lacking. English? I tested out of every English unless I plan to major in that shit. Nice to know I can handle my own language. Wish I could handle 2+2.<br />
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So essentially, this blog will start to be me rambling about...things. I will eventually post what projects I'm working on, but I'll most likely keep note of how school is progressing, my frustrations with financial aid, how neurotic I become about my grades and stuff like that.<br />
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Oh! I also decided to make a fresh start in my room. I know it may not sound like much (omg she's gonna clean something??) but I quit smoking back in October. No cigarettes for me for 8 months, people!! So, my nephew who adores me, as he should, is going to come over and I plan on taking every single thing out of this room, cleaning it one thing at a time to remove 2 years of dust and nicotine. Then rip up the carpet, paint the concrete floors an aubergine purple, paint all the trim a nice clean white and paint the walls a really pretty pale sea green. Possibly replace the ceiling fan. Depends on how much of the nicotine and tar I can get off the damn thing. Did i mention I was sitting in this room smoking 2 packs a day before I ended up with Congestive Heart Failure? Yeah....it's bad. I'll break out the camera and take pics of the progress. It'll be fun for everyone! Well, except my nephew who will do most of the work but he's 18 and i'm paying him with a trip to our favorite Chinese restaurant, dammit.<br />
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Speaking of food, I've been playing around a lot with cooking and finding a LOT of joy in it with the whole we-have-to-eat-healthy-even-if-it-kills-us thing because we have 2 heart patients living in the house. I'm a heart patient, y'all. Shit is stupid scary. Granted, I haven't really kicked in the whole Angie-needs-to-get-up-off-her-fat-ass-and-move thing yet. I have lost weight. A total of 35 lbs since last October and that's just from the water weight and healthy eating bit, so moving? Actually moving for at least 30 mins a day? Angie could be getting her sexy on. Not that I really give a crap about being a size 2 or hell even a size 8. But y'all, for Christmas my mom got me a really pretty skirt and shirt set. Size 18. It's tight but I got that shit zipped and buttoned. I haven't been able to do that since I was like 17. Oh yeah, we like it. I'll be happy with an 18 looking good on me! I will rock those 18s. Hells yeah. Which bring us to why I mentioned the cooking; I may post recipes as I make things up in my kitchen for us. If I find something healthy and delicious, I'll pass it along. Pinky swears.<br />
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Anywho, I think I've rambled enough for now. You're pretty well caught up on what's going on. You haven't missed much but coming soon? Changes. Me, out and about again. Doing things. With people! Making new friends. Reconnecting with old friends which I have also been trying to do more of. And I'm starting to ramble again. See? I NEED to write, I'm just too damn stupid to realize. Okay. Laters! Bye! Smooches and shit! ♥<br />
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Oh, one last thing. Is it bad form to demand my hat and scarf back? I loved that damn scarf. *pout*Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-71151063845348392352011-03-31T16:40:00.000-05:002011-03-31T16:40:27.193-05:00Still Here.There's a post. I need to read through it, but there is a post, I've just been busy. That almost said, "I've just been busty." That would have been awesome. Anyway, I will try and read through it tonight and get it posted. I haven't forgotten you guys, I swears. <br />
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For those of you bugging me in MSN, Facebook and e-mails, thank you. It helps to know you care. Sincerely.<br />
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Oh, and if anyone wants to add me to FB, please feel free. I am easier to keep track of that way. :)<br />
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Angela Ingham Hughes. (zomg she put her full name on teh interwebz!!!!) hahaStalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-81911726633123224542011-03-11T16:20:00.001-06:002011-03-12T16:09:42.332-06:00DenialI got denied my disability. I need to talk to Cory but I won't call him at work and lay this kind of shit on him. My head is just so ugly right now. I've actually tried to think of ways to get out of seeing friends coming into town next week. It's hit me that it may be another 2 years before I see Cory again. I'm not sure I can do another 2 yrs without touching him but I obviously can't afford to go up there and he hasn't even started the process for a passport and even if he had I couldn't do anything to help him come down for a visit. I've even thought that he deserves so much better than someone who has become nothing but a financial drain on those she loves and he should, by all rights, dump my sorry, useless ass and find someone else. <br />
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I sincerely wish I could just fade away right now. I can't think of one single person that wouldn't be better off. Every part of me is screaming to start pushing people away. Delete the blog. Close my Facebook account. Stop logging into WoW. Stop logging into MSN. Turn off the cell phone. Crawl into bed and just never leave again.<br />
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I hate that I've been crying for well over an hour now and nobody has noticed. I hate that I've been sobbing so hard that my entire body shakes, but I've become so practiced at doing this silently that anyone listening would just think my allergies were acting up. I want to scream. I want to be held and told everything is going to work out. Told that things will be fine even though the ugly voices in my head are whispering that things will never be as I want them.<br />
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I'm trying. I really am fighting here but I'm so tired. The disability was going to pay for the doctor's visits, my meds...that kind of thing. Now it's all on my parents still. The letter said that according to their findings I could still work as a sales clerk. These people have obviously never worked retail. Fuck them. I'm not even a person to them, I'm a file. They don't know me, what I'm going through or what I've gone through. I hate bureaucracy so fucking much.Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-44253347294128833282011-03-10T22:38:00.000-06:002011-03-10T22:38:42.227-06:00Good News! Finally!So I finally got approved for my Gold Card. This is exciting because it's a HUGE help to me for several reasons. What the Gold Card does is allow people who live in Harris County, where Houston is, get affordable health care. It's almost like having an insurance plan in that those who qualify only have to pay a nominal co-pay for clinic and hospital visits. They cover primary care physicians, specialists, hospital stays, dental visits and I'm researching to see what else they may cover, such as vision since I'm blind as hell. <br />
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This means I can get a doctor that I see on a regular basis that will monitor my conditions. This means a cardiologist if deemed necessary to monitor my congestive heart failure. This means...<br />
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THIS MEANS A CT SCAN FOR MY LUNGS!!!!!! Woohoo!!!!! Cheer with me, folks!! <br />
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It's not my disability yet, but it's a start. It means health care for me that won't break my parents in the meantime. It means diabetic testing supplies we can afford. It means visits with a certified nutritionist for education. This means...a lot, guys. I cried with relief when I got the letter.<br />
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So things are looking up! Yay!!!! Now if my disability would just come through. Keep up any prayers or well wishes. They are so working!!<br />
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♥Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-59438972155895476822011-03-05T11:55:00.000-06:002011-03-05T11:55:50.794-06:00Lovey Dovey Crap. No, Really.So the title should really be a warning if you pay attention at all. Sorry it's been a bit since I posted but I've just had a lot going on with nothing worth posting. Still no word on my disability or Gold Card so still no CT scan on my lungs or anything. I promise to update if anything on that front changes. The depression crap is still waxing and waning as it wants to but hasn't been as bad the last couple of weeks. Hell, I shaved my legs yesterday! Woohoo!!! I just hate that it wore me out to do so and I think that's the worst part of all of this. The physical exhaustion is just....hell.<br />
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I plan dinner so I can cook it in stages. I can empty the dishwasher, but I need a break before I can then place the dirty dishes inside. Then I need a break before I go back and wipe down counters and the stove. Forget sweeping the floor because my back just won't handle it. It's not even my lower back! It makes no damn sense, but my upper back pretty well always feels like it's on fire and doing anything for more than 10 minutes makes it try to knot up and the skin in that area goes numb. What...the...fuck!? It only started doing that after the CHF hospital stay, too. So shit that I could do <i>just fine</i> before that, I can't now. I've talk to the nurse practitioner at the free clinic but she has no clue what could be causing it. Blarg, dammit. Just blarg.<br />
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So, first two paragraphs not so lovey dovey. Maybe I should change the title. Nah, fuck it, we'll do the lovey dovey crap now. Turn away if you have a weak stomach. Seriously.<br />
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So during the 10 years of my marriage, T and I spent a lot of time saying the words, "I love you." Not once did we ever say WHY we loved each other. I find that a lot of couples are like that but wouldn't it be wonderful if someone actually told you why they loved you? What is it about you that they find so endearing? Talk about a confidence booster to actually hear why they adore YOU and not the drop-dead gorgeous brunette sex-pot that sat next to you on the train that day! Imagine having someone take what you see as faults about yourself and put them in a new light. Yeah, that's good stuff.<br />
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No, this isn't going to be a brag-fest cuz Cory did this for me. This is a brag-fest because I sat down and wrote out a<i> </i>few of the things I love about him. I say a few because it would take years to figure out all the reasons I love him. And I hate romance. It bugs the shit out of me but he makes me go all doe-eyed at him. So the remainder of this post is to him. You can read it or skip it. You can also go write to the person you love and make their day.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I decided to write this because while I boost your ego a lot, what I want boosted is your self esteem. Not just because it would make you a healthier, happier person, but because you're worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. Am I biased? Possibly. But there had to be something about you to get me to the point of BEING biased, right? Right??</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">You tell me that people don't like you except to appease me in some way or because of me in some way. You have friends and acquaintances in life that have absolutely nothing to do with me. If you don't have more friends it's because you're simply a very private person. Even with me there are aspects of your life and your past that you keep to yourself. Not a complaint, simply an observation. I figure you’ll share those things when or if you’re ready to. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">You tell me you’re weird. Yes. Yes you are. I love every minute of your oddities. It means you’ll always be interesting. It means you’ll always keep me guessing. It means you’ll always be able to make me burst into surprise laughter. I don’t see this as a flaw. If anything it makes me love you more. Every time you’ve ever done something that others would see as “odd” or “weird” it just makes me smile because it means you’re just being you, something I encourage at every turn. It’s rough because you can’t see me all the time when we’re together but if you could just see how often I smile because of you and your “antics” I think it would make your head spin.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I have heard people say jokingly, and you’ve told me you’ve heard it in all seriousness, that you’re perverted. Thank you, God. A man that is open, honest and exploratory in his sexuality. A man that’s willing to try different things and keep life interesting. Your “perversity” has allowed me to open up and be honest for the first time in my life about my own sexuality and not be afraid to ask for the things I want because someone will think I’m weird. You’re the first man who has ever made me feel like a real woman. The first man to ever make me truly feel wanted. You’re the first man to ever make me feel as if I deserve more. If that’s perverted, then I am so grateful to be in love with a pervert.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">You once told me that your brothers got all the brains and the looks in the family. I call major bullshit on this one. I’m considered pretty intelligent, but at times you blow me away with the way your mind works. You ARE intelligent. You’re creative and inquisitive and just because you don’t always conform to the directions your family or society thinks you should be taking doesn’t make you stupid. It makes you independent. You speak slowly and concisely. Others may see this as a flaw, but it’s one of the reasons I find your voice so soothing. It’s the first thing I noticed about you. I love hearing you talk. You know this. As far as your brothers getting all the looks, go buy a mirror. You’re not exactly a train wreck. I used to think you were cute. I did. Thought so the first time I saw a picture of you from the Toronto trip. You’ve been upgraded from cute a couple of times since then. Biased? You bet your ass. There’s a reason I stare at you on web cam. When you smile, really sincerely smile, it’s breathtakingly beautiful.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love every quirk you have. Yes, some days you irritate the shit out of me but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Yes, some days I roll my eyes at your antics, but I still smile because I love you. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t say to myself “Jesus, I love this man.” and marvel at just how much I do. People are tired of hearing me say it. I just don’t care. I’d shout it to the rooftops if I could. Fuck what anyone else thinks.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love your personality. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love your mind. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love your body. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love your voice. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I love you. </span></div>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-10706949841895674162011-02-25T10:15:00.001-06:002011-02-25T10:15:56.737-06:00Oh Yeah. Here's a Title and Stuff.For those of you wondering about the results of a CT scan, there hasn't been one yet. I'm not sure <i>when</i> there's going to be one. See all previous posts about not working or having insurance for the last 4 freaking years. *sigh* I have my moments where this absolutely terrifies me with everything going on with my health but I can't let it run my life, so I'm not gonna let it. I am, however, gonna bitch about it. I simply don't understand the amount of time it takes or why there's been no human interaction here. These people don't know me from Eve and yet they are making important decisions about the future of my health care. I've been at this since October! I've been divorced for 2 years, I haven't worked in 4 years, I have diabetes, hypertension, congestive heart failure, severe back pains, vertigo and now a nodule on my lung. I'm not lazy, I'm sure as hell not stupid, I. Just. Need. Help.<br />
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I don't even need permanent help. I'm not looking to be on disability for the rest of my life. That thought is just waaaaay too depressing to contemplate. I have things I want to do but I just can't do them right now. In the meantime, I'm draining my parents dry with the buying of my meds, specialty diet and, hell, just day to day things like soap and laundry detergent. Disability would help there. I could buy my own meds, my own food, give them gas money for running me to doctor's appointments...the list goes on. I miss my independence but I'm hanging on. Some days are good days.<br />
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Tuesday...Tuesday was a good day. Cory and I had turned on the web cams to chat so que the conversation format! Don't worry, I'll start after the gross, lovey-dovey giggling bits (usually by me):<br />
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<div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: Blogged recently?</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: Yesterday recent enough?</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: I s'pose so.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: Say, I need a pic of your scarf. I forgot to take a pic of it before I sent it to you and now I can't blog it cuz I don't have it.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: Want me to go get it and you can just take a screen shot? You know it'll be forever before I actually get around to taking a pic otherwise.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: Yes!! *Does a happy puppy butt wiggle cuz now I get a pic of the scarf <i>and </i>my Canadian*</div><br />
Then...then he comes back into view. Oh, he's wearing the scarf. It just happens to be the <i>only </i>things he's wearing. Thankfully (maybe, shut up, don't judge me) it's long and covers up the <strike>yummy</strike> naughty bits. I absolutely died laughing. He didn't just make my day, he made my whole damn year. Yeah, I took screen shots. You would have too, don't lie.<br />
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So, with a little liberty with MS Paint, here is Cory's scarf. With a smidge of pale Canadian background. It makes me smile like an idiot.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zloT0i5xcaNruq9FVFdJUIyMwEnWdjrKKkoi_flQ8QQrSeTtI3M1PQsjmGn82xgtRdNifGYxIOxUGoP0d_3cejfDsupefYi7nviG2ACZma6HxCRCoyKOZo6URyvTWF9gXOIJHQ/s1600/just+scarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zloT0i5xcaNruq9FVFdJUIyMwEnWdjrKKkoi_flQ8QQrSeTtI3M1PQsjmGn82xgtRdNifGYxIOxUGoP0d_3cejfDsupefYi7nviG2ACZma6HxCRCoyKOZo6URyvTWF9gXOIJHQ/s320/just+scarf.jpg" width="109" /></a></div><br />
P.S. Stop trying to look below the picture edge. Pervert. You were too!!Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-65128498028238416912011-02-21T15:56:00.001-06:002011-02-21T16:41:01.912-06:00And So We Continue Our Story...Previously on I Stalk Knitters:<br />
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Graduating from school! (yay!) Job market sucks! (boo!) Panic attacks and anxiety! (boo!) Still head over heels in love with a Canadian! (yay!)<br />
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This brings us up to speed into October of 2010. At the beginning of October, little brother Frankenstein (who is 19 now and so not little) said that what he really wanted for his birthday was for me to visit. How do you refuse that?? So I talked to my folks and borrowed my dad's car to head to Austin for a few days and visit. On the 13th of October I thought I was coming down with something because I was having a really hard time breathing. Not constantly, just sudden attacks like I had asthma, which I do not. I, being me, ignored them because that's what I do! Plus I was so not letting my little brother down and I hadn't seen everyone in over a year, dammit. So off I go to Austin to see my other, non-birth, family. It was a fun week with all the singing and messing about, but I had to sleep sitting up the entire week. Walking outside would send me into some sort of holy-shit-I-can't-breathe thing but other than the breathing? I felt fine! No fever, no sluggishness, no weakness. It was so weird.<br />
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So after the birthday festivities and such, I head home on October 20th. The next evening, I get out of my desk chair, where I had been leaned back and trying to sleep, and go into my dad's office because, once again, I can't breathe. I just went in to have someone to bitch to. He decided I needed to go the emergency room and ignored my wheezy protests. In I go and immediately back to a room I go and they hook me up to all kinds of fun machines and pump me full of all kinds of fun drugs and make me have to pee every 15 seconds and the bathroom is down the hall. These people are sadists. On one trip back from the bathroom the doctor follows me in with my diagnosis.<br />
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<div style="color: #38761d;">Dr.: You have CHF.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Me: No, I don't.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Dr.: That means you have Congestive Heart Failure.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Me: I KNOW what CHF is. I just don't have it.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Dr.: I'm afraid you do.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Me: I'm afraid you suck donkey nuts. Huge ones.</div><br />
I immediately look at my dad and say to him, "Go home. Go in my room. Find every carton of cigarettes, my cigarette case, every lighter and my ashtray and get them out of my room. I'm done. I quit. No more smoking for me." I was instantly terrified. For those of you unfamiliar with CHF, it basically means that my blood pressure was so out of control and that my body was retaining so much fluid that my heart and lungs were surrounded and weren't functioning properly. Yeah, I was trying to die on accident. Wait, I failed suicide and now I'm gonna ACCIDENTALLY die? Fuck that noise. No thank you. I still have shit to do. I spent 3 days in the hospital that were a blur to me. Basically I had deprived my brain of decent oxygen for long enough that I had mild dementia for a week or so. Then, because I was stupid enough to say yes to having a Foley catheter put in, I had a sever kidney infection for a week or so. Stupid hospitals. Stupid infections.<br />
<br />
So now I am a heart patient. That hasn't worked or had insurance since T and I got laid off in March of 2007. Well.....fuckerpants. There have been some good things come of this. No, really! I promise! I have a plan. I have things I still wanna do, dammit. I still wanna go back to school. I still wanna import my very own Canadian and make an honest man of him. I'm not done yet, dammit. Yeah, I have my days where I am really down. I also have my days where I am determined. Today is a determined day, obviously. In the 3 days I was in the hospital I dropped 25 lbs. All water weight and I had NO idea I was that bad. My body looks WEIRD to me but I am working on losing more. Slowly, but working. I am cooking and eating healthier and it pisses my dad off. He LIKES his junky food and has been sneaking fast food when he goes out. He doesn't think we know. He's not really that sneaky for a private investigator. Did I mention that after I moved in he had a series of 7 (SEVEN) heart attacks? Yeah. I've been under a smidge bit of stress here.<br />
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I've also been working on getting my SSI disabilty because I'm in no physical shape to work right now and who is going to hire a very recent CHF patient? I'm a walking liability right now. I've also been working on getting the Harris County Hospital District discount card, called a Gold Card. It's basically a form of insurance for low income/no income individuals and family. Thank the gods my family lives in Harris County. I've also been going to a free clinic here in Katy and they have been wonderful. They can't treat my CHF, but I am at least back on all my meds and my numbers are looking good. My folks are still buying my meds though and I'm slowly draining them dry between my meds and needing a specialty diet. Cooking with diabetes AND staying heart healthy isn't cheap because this country fails. <br />
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I haven't had a cigarette since October 21st. I've only craved one MAYBE 3 times since then and all I have to do is remember the terror I felt upon my diagnosis. Most days I simply forget I ever smoked and people, I was smoking 2 freaking packs a day up to that point. So praise God for huge miracles. If you've ever smoked, you'll understand that.<br />
<br />
I called Cory the first day I was in the hospital so he wouldn't panic:<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #351c75;">He answers the phone and I say, "Hey, sweetie."</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: Where are you? Are you ok?</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: I'm in the hospital. They admitted me last night.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: So what's the diagnosis? What did they say was causing the breathing issues??</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: It's bad sweetie. (I start crying)</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: You're scaring me. Really scaring me, just tell me what the doctor said, please.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: I have Congestive Heart Failure. They said I was minutes away from a heart attack or stroke.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory: So that means meds, rehabilitation, therapy, better eating and exercise. right?</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: Yeah, I guess so.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Cory. Okay. That's not bad.</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;">Me: Excuse me??</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #351c75;">Cory: You're alive, love. So long as you stay with me we can get through anything</span>.<br />
<br />
So then I cried harder. I honestly expected him to bail. Think about it! Perfect opportunity to say, "Oh hell no I don't need this shit." and just walk. He's in Canada, I'm way down here. I have a crap ton of health issues and can't find a job. And he's still with me. No ignoring the fact that he truly loves me. He even apologized for not being able to be here with me. I am SO keeping him.<br />
<br />
Now on to the latest thing. With my disability stuff, Social Security sent me for evaluations to 2 of their doctors. The first one was for depression, anxiety and panic attacks. I managed to actually have a panic attack while sitting in their waiting room. I panicked and fled to the bathroom. Fun times. The other was for the CHF, back issues and vertigo I seem to have developed since then and that included an x-ray. A week or so after that one I got a "courtesy call" from their office about my x-ray.<br />
<br />
Nurse: I'm calling as a legal courtesy to inform you of your x-ray results. A 1.3 cm nodule was found on your lung and we recommend you find a pulmonologist, have a CT scan taken asap. They will determine if a biopsy is necessary from that CT scan and you should have a follow-up scan every 6 months for at least the next 2 years.<br />
<br />
Translation: I'm calling because I legally HAVE to tell you that you may have lung cancer and should have that looked into. Kthx bye.<br />
<br />
Apparently my life has not been interesting enough. I REALLY need that disability and discount card to come through now. Dear God, I know you don't give us more than we are able to handle, but dammit, maybe you have me confused with someone else?<br />
<br />
<br />
So, how you guys been?Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-57380867760359971852011-02-18T13:36:00.002-06:002011-02-19T11:31:08.242-06:00Where The Hell Are We??A friend of mine suggested I may wanna pretty things up a bit around ye olde blog and I had been thinking about it, so i did. It was easier than I had feared and I would love knowing what you think. In that I also mean you can suggest changes you may want. I only post here, YOU have to try and read it. Need a bigger font? I'm on it cuz I'm blind as a bat myself. HATE the color scheme? I'm always willing to play around and change things to make it more soothing. I draw the line at neon, though. If you want neon do it to your own blog. Ugh.<br />
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As previously mentioned, I have been going through a lot in the last umm...well, few years, actually. I have failed at stalking knitters during that time, but you know what? I'm keeping the title. Both of them, mine and the blog's. I mean, yeah I lost touch for a while but I did keep SOME contact with people through Facebook, so technically there was SOME stalking going on. Hah! <br />
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Now begins the difficult task of trying to decide where to start. How far do I go back while still moving forward and not just confuse everyone in the process? Pfft. I'll do what I always do. I'll start typing and let my mind ramble on like a crazy person and we'll just see where we end up, shall we?<br />
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Since I know some of you are wondering my yarn status, I did some crocheting last year and made some little pot holders for a future kitchen I plan to have but other than that, I just haven't felt the desire to pick up yarn. In fact, and this is going to be difficult to read for most of you, my yarn is packed up and placed in the storage shed at the moment. I'll give you a moment. If you have to switch web sites for a bit to recuperate I'll understand. <br />
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Everyone ok to move on? You sure? Ok, then you need to know that my knitting and crochet days ARE NOT OVER. In fact recently I have been feeling the bug to pick my hook back up. This is a good sign! It means I'm getting back to me. It also means Cory has been riding my ass (and not in that oh so fun way) to get back into crochet, knitting, singing and spending more time away from this damn contraption. He's such a good boy.<br />
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So previously at Casa de la Stalker I posted that I was going back to school for medical assistant. I did graduate (with a 4.0, thank you) but the job market around here SUCKED. I basically spent last summer going on interviews where my panic attacks slapped me in the face and I looked like an over-eager coke addict looking for a paycheck or a crazy woman that seriously wanted to stick people with needles please can I stick the pretty people??? Well, that's how my mind pictures me anyway. I'm pretty sure it wasn't THAT bad. Or it could have been. Piss off. I am now making a pouty face at you.<br />
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We're going to leave it here cuz I just don't feel like getting into what happened in Fall of 2010 yet. We'll just leave it with 2010 sucked major donkey balls and next time we'll get into details about the size of said donkey anatomy. I am pointing out, however, that this is officially another post. Can I has a cookie now? =D<br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">Some changes were made per comment suggestions so I hope it's easier to read now. I cannot stand a solid white web page as it kills my eyes so I compromised. I am now in the process of fixing all the old posts that had light colored (coloured for my non Americans) text in it so it can be read. </span>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-61034831173632210532011-02-17T14:49:00.000-06:002011-02-17T15:01:22.998-06:00So I Remembered My password for Blogger...Hi! It's me. Fail Stalker. I'm not even sure if anyone is even out there, but here's the deal; yeah, I know I did it again. I disappeared for over a year again. At least I'm consistent on that front! Yes, the depression is back in force and I'm wrestling with it daily but Cory insists that writing about it and getting it out of my system will help. And he has a point in that. What if it doesn't help me, but someone reads what I'm writing and it helps them? They realize they aren't alone in feeling this way and that there's hope? It'll be worth it to throw my crap out in the wind at that point. No, I'm not looking for sympathy or platitudes or a pity party. I do the pity thing all by myself just fine so I don't need to drag you down with me.<br /><br />So I plan to write either daily or every other day. It's really not like I have jack shit else going on, ya know? I will get you guys caught up on what's been going on with me since the last post and it's likely to get personal so if you don't wanna know THAT much about someone else's life, please don't get offended and just move on. If, however, you enjoy a good train wreck and can't seem to look away, hop on board!! There will be love, pain, hope, disappointment, resolution, fear, tears and laughter. In other words, this WILL be about life. There will be times that I joke about my situation or my health so I ask that you please don't berate me "for not taking things seriously, dammit!" This is how I cope. I joke about things when they get bad. If I can make light of my situation, then I'm not so far down the black hole of hell that I can't get back out, ya know? It's my affirmation that I can spring back from the bad shit. So...yeah. I'm back. You're stuck with me again.<br /><br />Muahahahahahaha....<br /><br />*To be continued...*Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-5325737016401770302009-09-26T18:24:00.002-05:002011-02-19T09:54:25.833-06:00About A BoyWarning: This is a long post. There is subject matter that may not be safe for work if people read over your shoulder. Also there will be waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much personal information involved for some of you. But hey, for me this is sorta like therapy. You've been warned.<br />
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<br />
On December 14, 2005, I created an account for, and started playing, World of Warcraft (henceforth known as WoW). For those of you unfamiliar with it, it's an online game where millions of people log on and play online. We create and control characters through leveling and questing and friendships are made, broken, grow into relationships and beyond. These friendships cross over into the real world and I know of at least 6 couples who met on WoW, someone moved, they got married, and have children now. In the game people form guilds and in May 2006, I joined a guild called Legacy of Khan. This is where I met The Canadians. I capitalize it because this group of people have been my friends for well over 3 years now and they've seen me at my worst and helped me get through it. So here's the cast as it sits now. Hey, this is my story I can tell it how I want.<br />
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Shanna: Exceptionally beautiful and kind Canadian.<br />
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Jordan: Shanna's best friend and co-worker at a call center. (Not gonna lie, I sorta had a crush on Jord for a while. I got over it. I was married.)<br />
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Joe: Shanna's brother.<br />
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Alex: NOT a Canadian but became Shanna's boyfriend and later husband. Lived in Kentucky. He and Shanna are now happily married in Ohio. He's a total hottie.<br />
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Rob: Co-worker of Shanna and Jordan.<br />
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Now, in game, I went everywhere with these guys. Some days I felt like the little sister following her older sibling and their friends around, even though I am older than these guys. 7 years older than the oldest of them. But these guys became my friends. We talked to each other everyday on a program called Ventrilo that allows you to talk over the internet. Now towards the middle of 2007, I was really getting into my depression, my marriage was a failure, and I was unemployed. I made WoW my life. I left the computer to occasionally sleep, shower when my clothes began to disintegrate, or eat when T demanded food. That was it. Otherwise I was on WoW and talking to these guys. They had no idea how bad things were because on vent I was laughing and joking and lying my ass off about how things were at home. In game we do these things called raids where 10 or 25 players all get together and work on more difficult mobs as a team for better gear. We raided 3 nights a week and I NEVER missed a raid. I lived for them. I let it consume me because it was so much better than what reality had become.<br />
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I think back now and all I really remember was WoW and raiding was fun. Reality consisted of fighting and crying. Now y'all, when you're married and having troubles, intimacy tends to fly out the window. My marriage didn't have a WHOLE hell of a lot of intimacy to begin with but honestly at the end when we would argue about the last time we had been intimate it was ridiculous.<br />
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<div style="color: blue;">Me (usually crying): Why do I stay if you don't want me?</div><div style="color: red;">T: But I do want you.</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: No, you want my cooking and sometimes cleaning.</div><div style="color: red;">T: I love you, you're my wife.</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: No, I'm your roommate! Spouses have sex every once in a while.</div><div style="color: red;">T: We do have sex.</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: ......</div><div style="color: red;">T: What?!</div><div style="color: blue;">Me (usually screaming): We haven't had sex in 5 fucking years!!</div><div style="color: red;">T: It's only been 4!</div><br />
Seriously? Really??? Yeah we could argue about the number of YEARS, people. Not days, week, even months. Years. And honestly I had given up. I no longer wanted the intimacy because I knew I would just lose it again. It never stuck around for long and it hurts worse to have those few moments of what should have been a constant only to have it withheld again and again. So there was no intimacy, we stopped talking, we didn't do things together, we fought about every little thing it seems...yeah my marriage had been over for a long time. I look back and realize now that a lot of my depression was me mourning the death of my marriage. So I hid in WoW. I lived vicariously through The Canadians and existed.<br />
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Now around the Summer of 2007, another co-worker of Shanna and Jord's started playing on the same server as us. They helped him level and catch up to us and he started raiding with us. I don't think I ever helped him level any. I believe I was just much too busy raiding to be that helpful to anyone. So into the picture comes Cory. Cory, at the time, was, to me, a friend of theirs. I got along with him and he fit into the group well, but I wasn't really interested in getting to know him. Yes, I was a selfish bitch, I know. Can we move on now? Thanks.<br />
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So in game you gain reputation with different factions by doing what are referred to as daily quests. Cory and I started doing dailies together and started talking. He was fun, as flirtatious as me and we have the same sense of humor. Yay! A new friend! He is also a fantastic listener and I found myself opening up about my problems and he listened. He never gave advice, he was just there for me. Now, Cory speaks softly and slowly. He's articulate and thinks before he speaks so at times there's a pause before he responds. I cannot begin to describe how soothing this was to my raw nerves. As soon as I'd hear him say, "Hi there!" I would just relax. It was like slipping into a warm bath after a hard day. He always made me laugh and yeah, in a way I used him. He was the balm I needed during that time. I've already apologized to him for using him. Don't judge me. During this time, Shanna and Alex got engaged. Shanna asked me to be in the wedding. I promised to do everything in my power to make that happen.<br />
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By the summer of 2008, I considered Cory to be one of my best friends. He and I discussed anything and everything. Then his computer broke. I no longer had access to him. This...this drove me insane. The game wasn't the same. My refuge was gone. I snapped out of my happy realm and ended up facing reality. It was ugly, y'all. Reality sucked balls. I left T and at the end of 2008 I was staying with Laura and family. One day Rachel told me Cory was back. I had my computer over at the house but I was trying to resist the lure of playing WoW again so I just had her tell him "hi" for me. This lasted for about a week and a half. I missed talking to him. I logged onto vent to talk to him and that was all she wrote. I had my happy place back. I had seriously missed the sound of his voice. I had missed our flirting. He let me talk about things that were going on with T and he always urged me to think about what I truly wanted before making any final decisions. He never once told me to end it. I guess it was around October of last year, a couple of weeks after I had told T that I wanted a divorce, that Rachel (my "sister" via Laura) teased me about liking Cory.<br />
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<div style="color: purple;">Rachel: Why can't you admit you like him?</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: Like who??</div><div style="color: purple;">Rachel: Duh....Cory.</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: Oh whatever. He's my <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">friend</span>, crackhead.</div><div style="color: purple;">Rachel: You do so like him!! Your face lights up when you talk to him!</div><div style="color: blue;">Me: You're retarded. I can't fall for my best friend.</div><div style="color: purple;">Rachel. That's how it's supposed to work, dumb ass. Your spouse should be your best friend. Besides, you can totally tell he likes you, too.</div><br />
Then I started thinking about it. I DID like this guy. Well shit. I'm still married, well, legally anyway, and my self image is in the shitter and he LIVES IN CANADA and I live in Texas and.....well shit. I decided that if I was ever going to really live again I was going to have to grow a pair and put myself out there. So I told him. I did too. It was the scariest thing I've ever done. His response? "Interesting...."<br />
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Wait....what? No matter, I let it drop. We went back to our flirting. But his flirting took on a new tone. I realize now he was being sneaky and seducing me. Yeah, it worked. Shut up. We both knew I was going to Canada in May for Shanna's wedding and began talking about how cool it was going to be to finally meet our best friend in person and I couldn't wait to give him a hug for having been such an awesome friend through all the shit. In November I moved in with my folks since my dogs and most of my crap was there anyway and began making plans to go back to school. I was ready to get back out in the world but Mom and I were going to Cozumel again in April and I was heading for Canada in May, so getting a job and going to school had to wait until I got back. When I got back to my folks and had all my computer stuff set back up, Mom asked me a question that was probably a bad idea. "I have this web cam I don't use, do you want it?" Hell yeah.<br />
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I made Cory go buy one. We began playing online games like cribbage and dominoes and turning on the web cams to talk. We discussed hobbies, books, movies, politics, religion, our childhoods...we put forth a lot of effort getting to know each other better. We talked every day without fail. We spent hours talking, joking, laughing, flirting and playing and it just was never enough time. My nephew started calling him my "Canadian boyfriend." I would yell at him to cut it out because I was still legally married. Yeah, I took my vows pretty damn serious. As it was there were times I felt I had no right to be talking to Cory because I wasn't divorced yet. It was too late. I was pretty damn hooked on him already.<br />
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We began really looking forward to May but neither of us wanted to do anything to mess up our friendship. We had a LOT of discussions about what would or would not happen when I got up there. I had already decided I was going to stay a little longer after the wedding to spend time with him and get to know him in person. He seemed pretty keen on this idea. We started out with, "I just wanna meet my friend." It progressed to "The possibility of something happening is there but I won't be divorced yet so hell no." Adultery was so not on the menu, thanks anyway. By the time April rolled around the plan became me getting there the Wednesday before the wedding to spend those days helping Shanna finalize things and then spending a full week up there with him after the wedding. Sex was definitely a possibility. We weren't ruling anything out but we weren't flat out planning on it either. Yes, by then we had planned on him staying at the hotel with me for that week but you never know what will happen once you meet face to face, right?<br />
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A week before I flew to Canada, Cory disappeared. He quit logging onto MSN, WoW and Vent. I went into a panic. My thoughts ranged from, "His computer broke again" to "He's changed his mind and doesn't want me and oh shit what have I gotten myself into." My best friend, Pamela, got me through that week. Kudos to her because I was a mess. I believe my end of one our conversations where I was crying went, "What if he doesn't want me and he's changed his mind and I don't know if I even have a hotel room because he's booking it and paying for it and I don't have any way to talk to him and I am such a fucking idiot for falling in love with him and I miss him and....." whoa. Yeah. I said it. I meant it. Especially the fucking idiot part. So by Sunday of the week I was flying out I got desperate. I looked up his mom and stepdad online, got their home number and left him a message with his mom. Oh c'mon! Don't act shocked. I'm a stalker, people!!<br />
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He got the message not 2 minutes after I hung up with his mom and he logged into MSN. Yes, I had a place to stay. He had just "gotten busy" that week so hadn't been around. I let it slide. I knew he had been thinking things through but I didn't want to deal with it just then and I knew I planned on making him talk about it while I was up there. So off I fly to Canada. He had promised Shanna to stay away from me until after the wedding because those days belonged to her. I was not amused. I mean, I got to see him that Thursday night because her bachelorette party was guys and girls since, like me, the majority of her close friends are guys. I must admit, I was a smooth and suave individual that night. I was talking to our friend Rob, who I was ever so excited to meet, when I saw Cory walking to us. My face fell and I think I went white. Rob said "Just breathe, you're gonna be ok." I responded, "Am not!! I can't do this."<br />
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He was standing below us on the floor of the pool hall so I got brave and walked down the steps, walked over beside him, bumped my shoulder into his and said our standard greeting of, "Oh hi." We smiled at each other and my brain shut off. If anyone spoke to me for that few seconds I didn't hear them. The world went a little gray around the edges, not gonna lie. Yeah, I'm cool as a cucumber. So we all proceeded to the small party room to shoot pool and socialize. It was awesome to get to finally meet these people, but weird as hell seeing people I had only known online for 3 years. I spent the night trying not to be obvious in my drooling over Cory. Cory spent the night walking up behind me and running his hand along my neck, my lower back, down my arm or, when we were sitting, along the side of my leg. I jumped every time he touched me. I think I squeaked a couple of times. Yep! Suave, that's me. He spent the evening being seductive. I spent the night jumping at shadows. I handle romance so well.<br />
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At the end of the night we were all standing in the parking lot and with out me getting any say in the matter, it was decided that Cory was driving me back to the hotel. Lemme tell ya, this did NOT calm my nerves. We got into the car and he hands me a sack with something in it and says I can't look at it until after he's dropped me off. We stopped so I could grab some bottled water for the room and then he took me back. We sat in the parking lot and talked for a bit when he got this devilish grin on his face and said, "Ok, look in the bag. I wanna see your reaction."<br />
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Now for a little back story. Back in February for Valentine's Day, I got the best freaking gift ever. Cory sent me an invite to start viewing his web cam. I accept said invite and as soon as it shows up, he's standing there, comPLETEly nude holding a heart shaped box in front of him in a very strategic manner. I laughed until I cried. Best Valentine's Day I've ever had.<br />
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So inside this bag he's given me is the heart shaped box he had held up that day. I laughed all over again. In my roaring laughter I realized there's something in the box. It's not supposed to rattle. I open the box and it's full of condoms. Ya gotta hand it to him, he's creative as hell. So I get out and head up to my room with my now box o' condoms and he heads home. He held true to his word to Shanna and I didn't see him again until Saturday at the wedding. He went with us for the picture taking. He stopped and got bottled water for me. He stayed at my side and was a perfect gentleman the whole time.<br />
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We get to the reception and I am warned, "The wedding protection promise is wearing off. Wedding stuff almost over." This scared me a bit. Cory comes up to the bridal table where I'm seated several times and runs his hand over my neck, scaring the shit out of me and making me squeak. The table he was sitting at held him and 2 of my other friends so they enjoyed his teasing as well. This game did not seem get old for them. As soon as dinner was over and I felt free of my bridesmaid obligations, I headed for the fun table. Not to say that the bridal table wasn't fun, because it was, but it's just not where I wanted to be for some reason. Hmmm. Luckily the bride understood and was surprised I had stayed as long as I had. The rest of the evening may has well be titled, "The Seduction of Angie" because he spent the rest of the night driving me insane. Planting small kisses down my arm, across my neck, holding my hand and playing with my fingers, running his hand along my exposed back. He's good. I gotta give him that.<br />
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At this point all I will say is he came back to the room with me and helped get the 45 bobby pins out of my hair for the oddity that was my up do for the wedding and then he spent the rest of my stay in Canada with me. It was, without a doubt, the most amazing week of my life. Sunday we had brunch with the newlyweds and our other friends and went to a movie with them. Tuesday we only left the room long enough to walk the block to Tim Horton's for coffee and take a short walk. We weren't even gone for 2 hours. He drove me around to places that were beautiful and places that held meaning for him. I took a thousand pictures. I met his family and we watched movies in the basement cuddled on the couch, snuggled under a blanket. We slept in each others arms and professed our love for each other.<br />
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We both cried when I left. We still talk every day without fail. Plans are being made for him to move down here to be with me. He's supporting my decisions about school and wants to help me make it happen. He's excited about the turns my life has taken. We have the same sense of humor. We like the same things for hobbies. He understands my need for yarn. He knows how to cook. Seriously! I love this guy! How could I not? So yes, out of pain and tragedy I have found love again. When I thought my life was over due to divorce I realized it's just beginning again. I'm starting over fresh. Have I had my doubts? Of course I have. At first I doubted my feelings. I doubted the timing. I have fears about the future. I never once doubted his love for me. So, without further ado, meet Cory.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9C5Uz-cM-xS897k-gZdrjYcGg3xAdDhsIN7_UrGTg0kTnPlswh340Q2uqNFVRffDcFwGh-SVufKPT9RWX2m3HxGUCMhM3OVNCdwV_c8lg2aeUAk8gmiTOjQKz4-kiogr_jENsGw/s1600-h/Cory+pool.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385968008420452706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9C5Uz-cM-xS897k-gZdrjYcGg3xAdDhsIN7_UrGTg0kTnPlswh340Q2uqNFVRffDcFwGh-SVufKPT9RWX2m3HxGUCMhM3OVNCdwV_c8lg2aeUAk8gmiTOjQKz4-kiogr_jENsGw/s320/Cory+pool.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 233px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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You'll be hearing a lot about him, I'm sure.Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-2518473198244538652009-09-17T10:32:00.001-05:002011-02-19T09:55:53.752-06:00Wait....Another Post?? Whoa,...I know! I'm like a mad woman here with another post within the same month and shit. I am a bit afraid, however, that this blog may turn into a bitch fest about whatever current instructor I have that likes to write notes on the board, turn around to discuss them and stand IN FRONT of said notes then get pissy because you didn't write them down. Hello!! MOVE! Gawd! He also misspells key medical terms and says bullshit like, "That's the British spelling." Jerkface. Medical terms are based on Latin and Greek. They are spelled the same around the world. Your dumb ass just can't spell. And another thing! He got mad at us for not knowing a disease he didn't cover with us. What?? He thought he covered it, but he didn't, and because we didn't know it he called US dumb. Seriously? Look Professor Fuckerpants, don't get mad at us because you come to class ill prepared and can't give us notes in any comprehensible order. But seriously y'all, I'll do my best not to let this turn into that sort of blog. Just let me know if I start failing, okay?<br />
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So I'm trying to decide between 2 posts because they sort of tie into each other but doing both stories at once would make for a hella long post. The question is, would you guys rather hear about the Canada trip? OR Do you wanna know the low down, nitty gritty on Cory? Yeah, there's a guy. He's my best friend. Has been for a few years now. He's crafty, y'all. He's tried knitting and crochet, cross stitch, quilting and does woodworking. CRAFTY. He designs things. I knit him a hat and crocheted a scarf for his birthday and he got a little teary eyed because I MADE him something instead of just going and buying something. Yeah, he's a keeper. But enough on him for now or this will just turn into the Cory post, and I have to go study for 2 tests today. After next week I learn how to give shots. I'm gonna be sticking needles into people. *SQUEEEEEEEEE!!!* I'm such a dork.<br />
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<div style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">P.S. Thanks to all of you that commented and/or sent emails. Knowing that you care helps heal scars. It may not seem like much but for people who have gone through depression, knowing they were missed and receiving a kind word means the world. I've missed you guys.</span></div>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-55043170615545052592009-09-01T09:53:00.000-05:002009-09-01T11:15:30.782-05:00Is This Thing On?Wow. So....hi there! I highly doubt anyone will actually read this, but for those of you still clinging to the possibility that I might post again some day, here it is! I'm thinking about restarting the blog but I'm not making any promises. I just felt you guys deserved an explanation of just where in the hell I dropped off to. So, be prepared for a rather long post with possible follow up posts until the story is told. It's a doozy, y'all.<br /><br /> So that depression thing? Yeah, it turned into severe depression with anxiety, panic attacks every time I left the house, severe suicidal tendencies..the whole kit 'n' kaboodle! Cuz, when I do something I go all out. No messing around, no sirree bob. Not this girl. By golly, if I'm gonna be depressed I'm gonna be close to being institutionalized! *Ahem* So, yeah. Hmmm....Let's go back to when I thought I was better. I was better. For a couple of weeks. I did amazingly well for a couple of weeks. Then it all just seemed to come crashing down on me again. I honestly don't remember what all happened. I have almost 2 years that are a complete blur to me. Seems that happens when you aren't really living life, just existing day to day. I did a lot of hiding in World of Warcraft. I still play, but mostly out of boredom and....well, we'll get to the other reason a little later, shall we?<br /><br /> So, I played a lot of WoW. I slept when I couldn't stay awake any longer, ate when I just simply had to or go into a diabetic coma and played WoW. That was my "life" for over a year. The ONLY people I talked to were my online WoW friends because they had little to no idea who I really was or what my life was like. It was a safe haven to hide in. My health was in the crapper, T's health was in the crapper, our house <span style="font-weight: bold;">looked </span>like a crapper and I didn't wanna fix it. I was tired of fixing things. I was pretty well tired of everything. I didn't want to talk about it. I sure as shit didn't want anyone to KNOW what was going on. I didn't even talk to my folks during this time. God forbid anyone should know what a failure at life I was. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not a failure, but oh damn did I ever feel like one.<br /><br /> See, the Bell's Palsy (see last post made before I came out of hiding THIS time) didn't send me deeper into my depression. What DID was me sugar coating what happened during that time. See, the story I posted is the pretty version of what happened. I did that a lot. What happened, if you read between the lines, is I thought I was having a stroke. My husband dropped me off at the door of the emergency room. He never even turned off the car. Didn't escort me in. Didn't stay to make sure I could cope with this. He dropped me off scared to death. I didn't see him again for a couple of hours and that was after they had transferred me. My parents, driving MUCH further than him, got to me before he did. The three days I was in the hospital getting tests done? He came to see me once and that was because I begged him to bring me yarn so I'd have something to work on and a change of clothes. When he came to pick me up from the hospital I felt like it was an inconvenience. Those if you who have spent any time in a hospital know how long it takes for them to discharge you. He was angry because he had to wait. I honestly felt he didn't give a two bit shit about me anymore. Whatever it was we had left at this point, it was not a marriage. I just kind of fell further from there.<br /><br /> I began having panic attacks every time I left the house, or the phone rang, or the doorbell rang. I could not handle reality poking it's head into my ugly little world. I realize now that the panic attacks when I left the house were because I might have seen someone who knew me. They'd ask me how I was. I wasn't sure I could lie anymore. I knew my face couldn't. T was pressuring me to find SOMETHING that made me happy even a little bit. He bought pots for me to paint thinking that would help. I went through the motions but it's hard to be creative when you're to that point. Crocheting and knitting was just a reminder of everything I thought I had lost. He told me I should find a job to get out of the house and maybe that would help. I went on one interview, shook like a junkie the entire time and had to pull over and vomit on the way home. I just couldn't do it. To top it off, T had informed me around the beginning of 2008 that he was not just hearing voices, but communicating with entities with his mind. I will not say what entities because it's a moot point. Trying to talk to your husband and watching his eyes go vacant because he's hearing someone else? Then he chuckles at something you didn't say? Yeah.....couldn't handle that either.<br /><br /> So I guess it was around June, 2008, that all this came to a boiling point. And by boiling point I mean I was sitting on our love seat alone, he was out in his office, and I was crying. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Sobbing </span>to be exact, because I was holding a loaded .38 revolver loaded with hollow point bullets, safety off and I was oh so very seriously considering painting my walls red, white and chunky instead of the fresh white they were. Hey, it's my suicide I can joke if I want to. What kept me from doing it was all the faces of the people I had stopped talking to. Friends and family that loved me and would be devastated by my cowardice. So I put the safety on, unloaded the gun, put it back where T had so carefully hidden it and told no one. About a week or two later the realization hit me; I didn't want out of my life. I wanted out of my marriage.<br /><br /> I needed time away to pull myself together. I needed to fix what was wrong with me before I could even consider fixing my marriage or my husband and his issues. So I went to visit Laura/Mom. I told her everything. I went to visit my folks. I told them everything. A week later, at the end of July, I left. I cried the entire time. T never had a clue until I went out to the office and packed up my computer out there and told him. By that time I had all of my stuff out of the house. I got to my parent's house that night, buried my face into a pillow and I cried. I screamed. I ran to the bathroom and threw up repeatedly. Then I cried and screamed some more. The next morning my face was so swollen I could barely open my eyes. I spent most of that day on my anxiety meds, pain meds and kept ice on my face to bring the swelling down. It was, without a doubt, the most miserable 48 hours of my life.<br /><br /> I honestly just wanted time. Time to figure out what I wanted, time to figure out where I wanted my life to go, time to figure out what I was going to do with my life. I didn't get that time. T insisted on knowing how MUCH time I needed. When was I coming home? Why was I doing this to him? What in the hell was I thinking? None of which I had the answers for. How do you put a time limit on pulling yourself together? All we did was fight and scream at each other on the phone. He kept asking me if there was someone else. He would rather think I was cheating on him than to face the issues we had. The issues <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> had. In September I told him I was done trying. I wanted a divorce. It was devastating.<br /><br /> I slowly started gaining control back over my own life. 2008 was pretty much a complete wash. I didn't come even CLOSE to pulling my shit together until the beginning of 2009. In February of 2009 my mother threatened to kick my ass if I didn't get out of the sweat pants I was living in. In April of 2009, my mom and I spent another week in Cozumel, Mexico. It was the most relaxed I've been in years. In May of this year, I spent the most amazing 10 days in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Y'all, Canadians have it made. (If you love me, bring me Tim Horton's coffee, k? Extra large, 4x4, sweetener and creamer. Thanks!) I was worried about the Canada trip because I was meeting people I had only known online (granted for 4 years now) and I was in a wedding for one of these people, PLUS it was the first time I was going to have to be truly social since all the depression crap started. I never had any sort of panic or anxiety. In fact, I haven't had a panic or anxiety attack since the day I left that house. Please, please don't get me wrong. I am so not blaming T for our marriage falling apart. It took both of us to royally fuck that up. No one person can be that detrimental to a relationship. No way. I promise I'll discuss the Canada trip at another time, cuz ya'll....seriously that was an AMAZING week for so many reasons.<br /><br /> Anywho, once I got back from Canada, I made a really fast decision about my future and decided to follow my dream of going into the medical field. I'm in my 4th month of school. I'll be graduating next April as a Medical Assistant. I am currently maintaining a 4.0 average and once I graduate, I'll be working and going back to school again. Deciding between nursing (my forever ago dream) or becoming an ultrasound technician. As of June 12th my divorce was final and I am a single woman again. Well, sort of, but that's also a story for another time. Am I out of my depression? Who the fuck knows. How the hell can you tell? I may never say I'm out of my depression again. That just seems to piss it off and bring it back with a vengeance!<br /><br /> What I do know is that I'm happy. I'm happy with my life as it is. I'm happy with the direction I'm heading. I'm happy with the choices I'm making. I'm excited about my future and what it holds. I still cry when I talk to T. I still cry when I think about my marriage failing so badly. But it's not every day. It's not even every week. And I don't wallow in it. I get a little teary eyed and realize that this is what's best for me. I'm finally taking care of me and it feels good, and it feels right. I'm a lot calmer now than I used to be. I think I may have been just a smidge manic at times during my depression, but these days I don't get that way. I'm on a pretty even keel.<br /><br /> So....how you guys been?Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-26828429314009707362007-10-21T11:12:00.000-05:002007-10-21T12:33:54.157-05:00It's an update!Seriously! I know. I'm an awful blogger. I'm an even worse stalker, but I'll beat myself up about it later. So, it's been a really craptastic year. Yay! Maybe it's over! *giggle* I know, I've said that before. Here's the deal. Depression sucks ass. Honestly. I promise. See, when you're normal and semi happy and life goes on, you're at a certain point on the happiness scale.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2032/1674673607_9ec64bc929_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2032/1674673607_9ec64bc929_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Now, this tips up into the happy range as it should, but individual results may vary. When depression hits you, you slam down into that bottom box and you float around there in that black box for a while.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2128/1675529318_827943ba99_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2128/1675529318_827943ba99_o.jpg" border="0" /></a> Now, the problem with depression is that area between depression and life is ok. See, when you start climbing into that box, you don't realize that it exists! You think, "Yay! I'm in my good box!" only you aren't. You are here.<br /><br /><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2354/1675532300_0e510fbb02_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2354/1675532300_0e510fbb02_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Now, this crazy box and the depression box are where I've pretty much spent the last year. I hate this area. This area is misleading. That's right, you heard me, crazy box. I'm totally onto you, dude. You make me think it's ok when it's really not and I think I'm back to my old self and I'm still not and you suck. Anyway, who wants to know where I am now? Anyone? Hello? Is this thing on? Oh, hi! There you are. Here's my scale, folks!<br /><br /><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2249/1675535132_92aea0431d_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2249/1675535132_92aea0431d_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Yep, I am coping! I dare say, I've even landed in happy a few times over the last few weeks. What, you may ask, has brought about this red block/arrow goodness? Near death scares will do WONDERS for your attitude. They really will. Allow me to e'splain.<br /><br /><strong><em>Timeline:</em></strong> Thursday, October 11th at approx. 11:30 pm. </p><p><br /><strong><em>Lead in:</em></strong> Hubby and I have watched a movie together and eaten Chinese food that was hot enough to strip the top 3 layers of skin off your tongue. I am in the computer room (shocker, I know) playing WoW and talking on vent. My face, feels weird.<br /><br /><strong><em>Conversation Topic:</em></strong> My face.<br /><br />Me in vent to WoW folks: Hmm...my face has gone all weird.<br /><br />Guys: "Your face is retarded." "We've known this about you." "And?.."<br /><br />Me IVTWF: Shut up. I hate you guys. BRB.<br /><br />Me to T: Baby, there's something wrong with my face.<br /><br />T: You finally noticed?<br /><br />Me: Shut up. I hate you. I'm serious, look.<br /><br />T: What the hell is wrong with your face??<br /><br />Me (looking in mirror): Ok, this is bad. The right side of my mouth isn't moving. We have to go to the emergency room.<br /><br />T: We don't have insurance, dear. Plus, it's probably just a reaction to the Chinese food.<br /><br />Me: Food reactions don't paralyze your face. Stop being retarded. What if I'm having a stroke?<br /><br />T: You're over reacting.<br /><br />Me: Do you wanna drive? Cuz I am going. Fuck insurance. My face is broken.<br /><br />T: *sigh* Fine.<br /><br />So off we go to the emergency room all of 5 mins away. I am kinda getting scared at this point. T realizes it's late, and we just left the house windows all open. He goes back to close up and in I go.<br /><br />Me to Chick at Window: Hi, I need you to take me seriously cuz I'm getting scared. The right side of mouth isn't working and I know that's a sign of a stroke.<br /><br />Chick at Window: Please go sit down in that chair right there and don't move.<br /><br />C.a.W. proceeds to run in the back like her ass is on fire. Comforting. NOT!<br /><br />Now, five (yes,5) nurse come running out of the back with a wheelchair, an I.V. line to stab me with and all other sorts of implements of torture. They are checking pupils, asking me to smile as big as I can and asking me 10 different questions each. All while putting me into a wheelchair, starting an I.V. and wheeling me into the back. Multi-tasking at it's finest. Then they call the hubby to let him know that, "why yes, it could be a stroke and we're moving her here and please bring all of her meds up here for us then you can go to your wife in a totally different city, thanks!" </p><p><br />T calls my folks, who live 45 mins away. T calls Mom (you know the one.) to let her know as well. I honestly don't remember who got to the hospital first. I just feel sorry for anyone on the roads in the way. So, 4 days in the hospital, an ass load of tests that seemed to consist of lots of my blood and shoving my little round body into even smaller round tubes over and over to scan for a brain. They found one. *whew*<br /><br />I now have Bell's Palsy. Look it up. This is a long post and it's wearing me out. I'm too damn lazy to link it. It's much better than having had a stroke. I promise.<br /><br />T is afraid that having my face broken is gonna send me deeper into the depression. Only, no, not so much. There is nothing like having something this big fall in your lap to give you that shot in the ass you need to wake up and realize life is worth living. I can handle stress but it sets off the Bell's Palsy so I'm just not letting things get to me. I quit smoking. I was in the hospital for 4 days with no cigs. Might as well, right? T screams at the game he plays and it causes me to shut down. T spends most of his day out in his office now away from me. This...this has made the biggest difference. I love my husband, but damn that man is annoying. I can play music as loud as I want, and I do. I can sing and dance around the house while cleaning or crocheting, and I do. I get dressed every morning cuz the steroids I'm on have me hyper so if I feel the need to get out, I do. T and I have gone walking every day together and we're enjoying it.<br /><br />I just found out on Friday that I was approved for a state funded school program with a local junior college. I'm going back to school. I'm planning on taking accounting. Good money, I love math and it's something I can do from home in the future if I need to. I've decided to live my life how I want to. I've decided to do the things I really want to do. Hitch a ride folks. Everyone is invited but if you don't hold on, you may get left behind.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-50368096405303123152007-08-08T15:42:00.001-05:002007-08-08T15:45:58.138-05:00Happy Birthday, Christina!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuWz0N5v297YntCivlpok2Qab87j4WquyXokLtKeTAW2SBbsDonTYu2sWKBmG3TkTA0pPZyDNkHgA4vqW1_EZ8TATiiA-lHWzige8e0qLITgPfIdfN4xZKgmd0ovTu4ioWmg5-w/s1600-h/Serviette_Happy_Birthday_Blumen_Flowerpower.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096433063023463746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuWz0N5v297YntCivlpok2Qab87j4WquyXokLtKeTAW2SBbsDonTYu2sWKBmG3TkTA0pPZyDNkHgA4vqW1_EZ8TATiiA-lHWzige8e0qLITgPfIdfN4xZKgmd0ovTu4ioWmg5-w/s320/Serviette_Happy_Birthday_Blumen_Flowerpower.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Props to <a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com/">Christina</a> who is taking time out on <strong>her</strong> birthday to get me posting again.</div><div> </div><div>Hope you get everything you want today.</div>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-61825513259187437602007-04-19T11:31:00.000-05:002007-04-19T12:31:59.052-05:00Thirty-FiveI figure we should have a post for April. At least one. Hell, there might be two! I know! Hold onto your bobby socks for the excitement never ends here. First off I wanted to say thank you for all of the support you guys have given me. The comments, the e-mails, the e-cards...you guys are awesome. For those of you who wanted me to get help, I've actually been on depression meds since October of 2006. I recently switched meds and they have been helping a lot, it's just easy to slide back into a slump. I have also been seeing a physchologist for the same amount of time so I do have someone to talk to. She lets me call her anytime I'm feeling way past the point of no return so that's a huge help.<br /><br />You guys are gonna love this one. After I wrote the last post things definitely changed for the better. I got up, got in the shower, actaully washed my hair (the combing took 45 minutes. We won't be discussing that again, k? Thx) and loaded up the car to head to Mom's. You know the mom I mean. Her second oldest son is diabetic. I can't hide shit from her. She took one look at me and started the nagging. She made me eat. She made me sleep. She made me regulate my sleeping pattern. She's such a cold hearted woman. God bless her. I'm on a normal sleeping pattern of going to bed by 2 am, sometimes earlier and up between 9 and 9:30 am. I relax through my first cup of coffee and when I go back for my second one, I leave the cup on the counter and go get dressed for the day. Get my second cup of coffee and wake up further. Have I mentioned I suck at waking up? I do. Nobody talks to me for the first hour I'm awake. My brain no worky yet.<br /><br />Yes, I drink too much damn coffee for my own good, but going for coffee gets me up and moving. That's the key. Hubby helped me figure it out. He's awesome. So, since I get up for coffee here's the pattern. Get up, set cup on counter, wash a sink load of dishes. Go back with coffee. Get up, set cup on counter, put away dry dishes, go back with coffee. Get up, set cup on counter, sweep the floor, or more dishes, or start laundry, or switch laundry or whatever. I go outside at least twice a day. Once to always check the mail and stop and enjoy the sunshine or listen to the rain or just listen to the wind in the trees. I make myself stop and enjoy the day for what it is. The other time I got out every day is to see Bonnie and Clyde out back. T spends lots of time with them but I never did like backyards much. I'm a front porch kinda gal. So, outside is good.<br /><br />I also leave the house at least twice a week. I go look at the little shops downtown or just head to Wal-Mart to browse around for 30 minutes to an hour. It's out. It's progress. Also, I have clean spoons people! And plates! And pots and pans! It's kinda nice. I'm cooking again since there's more eating now. I'm finding healthy things to cook and eating more salads again. Also, once you start eating? You stay hungry. What the hell? Before I wasn't eating and I had no appetite. I just wasn't hungry. Then I went to Mom's and she had me eating and I swear I am hungry all the damn time now.<br /><br />So yesterday was my birthday. Daddy called and sent me pink, potted hydrangeas. Momma called and sent me an e-card. Mom called and little bro and sis told me happy b-day. Sachi sent me an email. My best friend from high school sent me an e-card. All in all, a pretty damn good day, folks. 35 may turn out to be a damn good year. Things have been looking up the last few weeks and I like the trend. Do I think the depression is over? Not by a long shot. Do I think I won't end up back in a slump? Hell no. But I am trying. I am making little changes and trying to keep up a routine. I'm looking for a job and sending in the resume. Hell, I even bought a new quilt set for my bed so the bedroom would be brighter. More Spring-y. It makes a difference.<br /><br />Funny story before I head off. Yeah I know, long ass post, huh. So the week of Easter my brother and his family came in from California. T and I went down for a day and my other brother joined us all at a restaurant for dinner. 10 people make quite a crowd. So anyway, after dinner we were all talking in the parking lot and joking around.<br /><br />Small side story: My dad collects aluminum cans for recycling. He's a fanatic about it. He stops on the side of the road all the time for cans. It's like a passion for him. Wierd, but ok. I would stop for yarn.<br /><br />To continue, in the parking lot of said restaurant was a soda can. My dad was already sitting in his car so he asked T to grab it for him. There was the typical family teasing about my dad's obsession with cans. Dad, T and both nephews are in the car to head back to the house. The rest of us rode with mom. So as the rest of us are still standing there talking, dad starts to drive off. We're watching them drive away of course and all of a sudden the soda can mentioned previously comes flying out of the back window. We lost it. Then dad hits the brakes and nephew has to get out of the car to retrieve said can. He's laughing so hard he can hardly stand up. Over all the laughing we can still hear daddy yelling "What the hell is wrong with you? Get that can, son!" This sends us laughing even harder. Oldest Brother actually sits on the ground he is laughing so hard. I can hear T laughing in the car. I thought momma was gonna hurt herself. T and I discuss said tom-foolery on the way home and I had to pull over from driving as T tells me he was the one whole stole the can out of the cup holder in the car, passed it back to my nephew and convinced him to throw it out. I still laugh at the image of the brake lights coming on for daddy's can. Good times. Good times.<br /><br />In parting I leave you with pictures. I know! Yay!<br /><br />Tinker likes the new quilt, too.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWb5MKnBAmKdrn0B0L_F1crZvL0kALW8s4xMsRkxWOj9Sc6vUvNjLUpzYGuwnxkD_5w47r4TT6hMug4trdCxiIq6baGHYnP50vkUfnpXzqc3wEi4n-6EKGODExb6SlkTOOub6dbw/s1600-h/100_0949.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055189734350677970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWb5MKnBAmKdrn0B0L_F1crZvL0kALW8s4xMsRkxWOj9Sc6vUvNjLUpzYGuwnxkD_5w47r4TT6hMug4trdCxiIq6baGHYnP50vkUfnpXzqc3wEi4n-6EKGODExb6SlkTOOub6dbw/s320/100_0949.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Tinker's favorite spot is in my kitchen window. Ahhh, signs of Spring.<br /><br /><p><br /></p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTZRP0T5e6rvKB5BMQLe-mnYBKzoZO1bzIu4iINMGbCI1qoUc3Qhg12BhqsGQYOyyiNvshyphenhyphen9F9_03hayz6ipVoFrEzSGUvS2IJKDVuyhYHV9KvzI_Vw4jt3s6rGlmTIYKY781MQ/s1600-h/100_0951.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055190601934071778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTZRP0T5e6rvKB5BMQLe-mnYBKzoZO1bzIu4iINMGbCI1qoUc3Qhg12BhqsGQYOyyiNvshyphenhyphen9F9_03hayz6ipVoFrEzSGUvS2IJKDVuyhYHV9KvzI_Vw4jt3s6rGlmTIYKY781MQ/s320/100_0951.JPG" border="0" /></a> Yes the fan is holding the window open. Told you it was an old house.</p><p>My birthday present from Daddy.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3oonF7T2yeHsiCL9DvBiISEQ16zP-CReaVZ33Uwr29Ra8ozsH8EmqQ9mu2cKwWHIYz33OgrbeQTzCn4F2n_LwSdgbtK_wRPBrGspH_ssSSrqU_J7uSdDuCwl0ZA2cYXgoG9O3aQ/s1600-h/100_0952.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055191267654002674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3oonF7T2yeHsiCL9DvBiISEQ16zP-CReaVZ33Uwr29Ra8ozsH8EmqQ9mu2cKwWHIYz33OgrbeQTzCn4F2n_LwSdgbtK_wRPBrGspH_ssSSrqU_J7uSdDuCwl0ZA2cYXgoG9O3aQ/s320/100_0952.JPG" border="0" /></a>Plant is up on a shelf to keep away from Tinker who has already knocked it off the table which is why I have pink hydrangeas in the window of my kitchen. This is why his name is Tinker. He tinkers with everything. Eh-vah-ree-thing.</p><p></p><p>Also if you enlarge the photo to see the plaque on the wall to the right of the hydrangeas, it's one of my wedding presents. My mother-in-law painted that. Talented woman.</p>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-256246349856524282007-03-30T12:47:00.000-05:002007-03-30T13:38:08.181-05:00Am I Going Crazy Yet?I haven't been posting a lot recently. Oh, you noticed, huh? Damn. Well, to be honest about it, it's because my posts are supposed to be witty and full of funny sayings and conversations had. There hasn't been a lot of that and I didn't want this to become a chronicle of my depression but sometimes ya just gotta share even if nobody really wants it. This is gonna be one of those posts where I sit here at my desk and cry and make typos because of the tears so if ya wanna skip it, please do and we'll see you on a better day.<br /><br />I'm tired, folks. So fucking tired. Depression for me is like hanging off the edge of a crumbling cliff face and someone has a tight grip on my wrists. Some days I'm gripping their wrists as hard as I can and digging into anything I think my feet can find purchase on because I want up So. Damn. Badly. Other days I'm kicking and screaming because I want them to let go. For the love of God, please let go. Just let me fall. I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't want to fight. I don't want to be here. I don't want to live this life anymore. There's nothing good left in it. Then there are days I'm not even holding on. I'm just hanging there. I don't really care if they hold on or let go. I don't even want that decision.<br /><br />I'm still not taking care of myself like I should. I'm definitely not taking care of my house like I should. I used to be so anal about my bathroom and kitchen floors. I'm not quite sure what's on my kitchen floor right now. I just quit looking at it. I'm diabetic but there are days I don't eat at all. It's not worth the effort. I don't know when I last did laundry. I guess you don't have to do laundry if you never leave the house. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">occassionally</span> look around and think to myself, "Damn. When did I get so lazy?" I spend all day at the computer watching TV shows online or playing puzzle games and smoking way too much. That's not like me. I don't knit, crochet, paint, go to the movies or anything I used to love doing. I don't stalk knitters and my husband is nearly having to drag me into Guild Wars to play with him. I still play World of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Warcraft</span> (a lot) but most of the time because it's just habit to sign in.<br /><br />I sometimes wonder if I'm using the depression as an excuse to be lazy or if the depression really is that bad. How do you know? I'm no longer denying that I have depression but I don't think there's a 12 step program for it so admitting it doesn't really help so much. Is there a clue to where if your thought processes go in a certain direction you can tell yourself, "Yep. You're THAT depressed. Congrats. Now get the fuck out of it"? Is there a chart somewhere? Why does everything seem to take so much effort anymore? I'm not sure I have a clean spoon in the house. Don't ask me why that popped into my head but there it is. I don't think I have any clean spoons. Not sure about plates either. I know T went and bought paper plates last week. That might be a clue. Also, I think my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">scrunchie</span> may be tangled into my hair. I don't know. I do know my hair is out of my face and that's a good thing.<br /><br />I feel like I'm on auto-pilot. I feed the cat and clean his litter box. I make sure the dogs have water since T feeds them. I check the mail and pay the bills. BUT I don't have any sort of schedule. If I did would that help? I stay awake until my eyes go blurry. Sometimes that takes a day or so. Then I fall into bed and my mind goes 10,000 miles per hour with thoughts of stupid things like "Do we have any clean spoons and will I have to cut the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">scrunchie</span> out of my head?" and then I finally fall asleep and I sleep an entire day away and I wake up and it's dark outside so I check the dogs water and check the mail and feed the cat and clean his litter box. Otherwise I am sitting right here. I've had a full tank of gas in my car for 2 weeks now. The same tank of gas.<br /><br />When I do sleep I'm sleeping on top of my comforter. I don't remember the last time I slept IN my bed. One night I just grabbed a sheet from the hall closet and threw it on top of me as I collapsed into bed. I've been sleeping like that for weeks now. I'm just so tired. Am I going crazy yet?Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-27550142272737393912007-03-23T21:13:00.000-05:002007-03-23T21:37:21.013-05:00Peek A Boo!Well hello again. Update time for everyone. Yes, I know I disappeared again. I know I'm lax in my stalker duties. Everytime I get through a rough spot I think "Well, ok, that's over. NOW I'm done. NOW things are all better and life will be normal again. Yay!" Only, not so much. I never realized how hard depression hits and how often you backslide and how easy it is to do so. But I'm here now! No promises that it's a permanent thing but things are definitely looking up. I actually went on a job interview today with our local energy coop company. I'm really hoping I get it. If I don't get out of the house soon I may have to kill T. Yes, I love him but damn....months of being together 24 hours? Nope. You'd wanna kill him too. Also, the coop is literally 4 stop signs from my house. Niiiiice.<br /><br /><br />So...hmmm....what's happened since the last post. Well, Bonnie, our female catahoula, slipped her choke chain that kept her in the back yard, went into the front yard and chased a huge truck on the street, bit the tire and got rolled. She's ok now but her left front leg is now useless to her. She took a lot of nerve damage. Luckily the mailman saw it happen, knew who she belonged to and came banging on our door. Gotta love a small town.<br /><br />So, both of the big dogs in the back have now had accidents involving vehicles. *Sigh* Bonnie no longer has any interest in leaving the back yard, but Clyde gets out everynight still. He just hangs on the front porch and barks if anyone walks by. He's made friends with the new neighbor puppy and visits him all the time. He likes the mailman and doesn't bother him in the morning when he delivers the mail. He doesn't bark if the local neighbors are walking by, but anyone he doesn't know from his routine gets a stern barking. Also, trash. He has picked up a bad trash habit. Ya know how dogs will roam the neighborhood and dig through peoples trash? I could live with that. That's normal. Clyde goes to other peoples houses and brings home ENTIRE bags of trash so he can go through them at his leisure on our front porch. There's nothing like stepping out in the morning and finding baby diapers everywhere. Pleasant thought, no?<br /><br />Also, you guys have <a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com/">Christina</a> (again) to thank for this here post. She normally has the hubby poke me for her to get my attention. She found a way around that. The mail system is evil. She send me a card that I opened and smiled when I saw it. It's rather pretty.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9DQ7U-ViEi9EmRNKHb2smzCLBzunyYCuPukGp21DAGo9ltrRhBAOTiIc5Dn6wfVl6gniZyjQW8ZYcH8RGC_R0m6SNyqAiGU-uDuACEBU3IWR-ww0N1taUQPy92zLDH_2XxMFvQ/s1600-h/100_0947.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045313018647522738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9DQ7U-ViEi9EmRNKHb2smzCLBzunyYCuPukGp21DAGo9ltrRhBAOTiIc5Dn6wfVl6gniZyjQW8ZYcH8RGC_R0m6SNyqAiGU-uDuACEBU3IWR-ww0N1taUQPy92zLDH_2XxMFvQ/s320/100_0947.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Then I opened it and laughed until it hurt.</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRw7BBvZyMSwObuuOuwet6g1ghERVhyphenhyphenD7U0_JzPsjbgsKAVQwVYf4oZG571uFQyCf1HhM613PKmxn9RFuS9OtHgzOsR7Sey4y2WB1PGvoTNjvggLqGRv3zrw3fMRsQEyA_ccWUSA/s1600-h/100_0948.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045314204058496450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRw7BBvZyMSwObuuOuwet6g1ghERVhyphenhyphenD7U0_JzPsjbgsKAVQwVYf4oZG571uFQyCf1HhM613PKmxn9RFuS9OtHgzOsR7Sey4y2WB1PGvoTNjvggLqGRv3zrw3fMRsQEyA_ccWUSA/s320/100_0948.JPG" border="0" /></a> Friends who refuse to give up on you are a pain in the ass and the most awesome thing ever.<br /><div></div>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-1170890438716417222007-02-07T16:56:00.000-06:002007-02-07T17:20:38.866-06:00Stalker Goes DomesticBack from Oklahoma but tired. I did get to talk to <a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com/">Christina</a> today though, on IM (ok, actually, I'm still talking to her shhh don't tell) and I got to meet <a href="http://javagirlknits.blogspot.com">Lauren</a> today on IM who is a lurker here at Casa de la Stalker but funny as hell. Hi Lauren! Also, I think I scared the poop out of her when I answered her IM. That's what dreams are made for folks. Scaring the poop out of people. She also invited me on up to a Stitch 'N' Bitch but Pennsylvania is a bit too far and a bit too cold. Besides, the next state I visit needs to be Washington so I can meet the neato folks there. Also, I think if I go somewhere else first Christina might hurt me. Just saying.<br /><br />I hadn't planned to post today cuz I was tired from hanging some shelves all by my lonesome with wall brace thingies that required drilling and everything but y'all Christina totally didn't believe that I hung shelves. And I did. And I even put them up even and stacked shit on em already and they didn't fall out of the wall. Cuz I am that awesome. So here ya go. Proof. Of shelves. Shelves that are NOT falling out of the wall and are even and shit.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/1600/666705/100_0943.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/320/687472/100_0943.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/1600/284749/100_0944.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/320/261664/100_0944.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/1600/4490/100_0946.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/320/971847/100_0946.jpg" border="0" /></a> Also, cuteness. Warning, you might die from overload. Tinker is my cutie kitty boo. Too bad I don't like cats.<br /></p><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/1600/276826/100_0941.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/320/910780/100_0941.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/1600/934032/100_0942.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5084/927/320/492013/100_0942.jpg" border="0" /></a>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-1170269879420230852007-01-31T12:25:00.000-06:002007-01-31T12:57:59.936-06:00It's Alive!!!!Hi! Ummm...look! I remembered my blogger sign in! Yay! Yeah so I've been incommunicado for a loooong freakin while but I have a really good excuse! As soon as I think of it I'll let you know. I guess things just hit me a lot harder then I expected them to. The last few months have been a serious roller coaster ride emotionally and I've gotten to the really bad point of avoiding everyone. I'm sorry. I seriously owe Christina the biggest apology since she keeps having my husband poke me in the shoulder to get my attention. I also promised her a post ummm....a week ago? Two weeks ago? Something like that. She was also sweet enough to make my mailbox do some really fun stuff and sent me a Chris LeDoux CD and some sugar free chocolate truffles (there would be a picture, but I ate them. Promptly. I'm depressed. It's chocolate.) so thank you, Christina. Seriously. I cried when I got it but in that "oh damn someone cares" way. I've gotten a lot of emails from stalkees (even the lurker kind) and I cried at every one of them. Hell, I'm crying now. I guess once you hit this point it's really hard to realize that people care and really, really hard to understand why. Damn this is hard to write. I'm trying not to pour too much of my heart out because I haven't posted in 6 weeks and the first post should not be a pity party but at least you know I'm alive.<br /><br />I still owe Erin the worlds ugliest granny square. I haven't forgotten. I owe Christina some Guild Wars time and a lot of chat time. I owe Steph, Ryan, Erin, Norma and an ass load of others some serious stalking. I'll get there. I'll be back. I am bound and determined not to let everything bothering me win. I'm fighting back the best I know how so just hang in there for me. I have been working on projects but my one finished one can't be blogged until the recipient gets it because she reads the blog but it's what she wanted for Christmas. I just need to go see her. I just ordered some lipstick red and natural black baby alpaca yarn from Misti Alpaca so I can make myself a hat and scarf set. I think it will make me feel better. Hell if nothing else I can sit around and pet it. I'm working on a knit afghan (cuz I have nothing but time right now) in some soft chunky stuff so as soon as it's done it will get blogged. I haven't given up on knitting and crocheting. I seem to have given up brushing my hair but hey, dreadlocks are cool, right?<br /><br />I'm just taking little battles right now. I get up and make my bed. I win. I take a shower and brush my teeth. I win. I remember to eat something today. I win. Little battles. I'll deal with the big ones later. I have successfully avoided an anxiety attack for 2 weeks now so that's a good thing. I'm trying not to over analyze what happened to the person that showed up in Austin for the Meet'N"Greet and became the person sitting here crying in a big pink gown, fuzzy slippers and a hooded jacket with messy hair, a <s>pack</s> carton of cigarettes and a cup of coffee. I'm going this weekend with my mom to see my grandfather in Oklahoma. I couldn't even talk to him on the phone at Christmas. I haven't seen him since my grandmother's funeral. I'll also be visiting her grave this weekend. It's gonna be hard but I need to do this. I'm taking lots of yarn.<br /><br />I miss you guys. I really do. I miss the blogs and I miss being me. I miss the snarky comments you guys leave me when I do something stupid. I'll get it back though. I'm determined to win. I always have sucked at losing.Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11431508.post-1166132187151735442006-12-14T15:25:00.001-06:002011-02-19T10:08:44.841-06:00It's A Pattern!Hi kids! Yes, it is I again. Finally. It's been a lot of doctor's visits here at Casa de la Stalker and dealing with learning how to be a diabetic. Yeah, it totally sucks. I'm dealing though! Not near as many crying fits (yay!) and I seem to be having a lot less anxiety attacks. T is doing great on his meds so that helps a lot as well. I really don't wanna bore you with a lot of medical crap anyway. I've been at Mom's (the non-birthing one) for most of this week cuz she has a son that's diabetic so it's been informative. It also means I haven't been on the computer much this week so I'm behind on stalking and posting. And knitting. And crocheting. Ok so all I've done all week is sit around and laugh. That's a good thing, right?<br />
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I wanted to come on though and get the fish mat pattern out there. I know some of you have been waiting on it. I'm waiting on Catsmum *ahem* to send me a pic of hers and she was going to convert it over to the English instructions for me. Hee! Also, ummm...yeah. Pattern! If you have any questions you guys know how to find me. Also, for those of you who wanted it, and if you can catch me on, instant messenger information will be at the bottom. But first, pattern! Yay!!!<br />
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<div align="center"><b><u><span style="color: #9999ff; font-size: 130%;">Tinker’s Fish Mat</span></u></b><br />
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</div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5084/927/1600/Fish%20Mat.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5084/927/1600/Fish%20Mat.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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This little mat was made for putting your kitty’s food/water dish on. If your kitty is spastic like mine is, it also makes a fine kitty bed once they push their food dishes off of it and drag it to the appropriate room in the house.<br />
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It’s made with 3 strands of acrylic worsted weight for easy cleaning, a quick work-up and it makes it rather inexpensive to replace. You can use 3 different colors as I did here, 2 different colors to create stripes by switching colors at each row or every other row, or just make a solid color fish.<br />
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Ch = Chain<br />
SC = Single Crochet<br />
DC = Double Crochet<br />
ss = Slip Stitch<br />
Dec = Decrease<br />
st = stitch/stitches<br />
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Dec – Keeping last loop of each on hook, work double crochet in next 2 stitches, yarn over, draw through all loops on hook<br />
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Yarn: 3 strands of worsted weight yarn, any color(s) held together throughout.<br />
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Hook: Size N Hook<br />
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<b><u>Body & Tail</u></b><br />
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Starting at the neck, chain 12.<br />
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Row 1.) DC in 4th chain from hook then DC in each ch across to end. Ch 3, turn. (10 DC)<br />
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Row 2.) DC in next 4 st. 2 DC in next 2 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch 3, turn. (12 DC)<br />
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Row 3.) DC in next 4 st. 2 DC in next 2 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch 3, turn. (14 DC)<br />
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Row 4.) DC in next 4 st. 2 DC in next 4 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch 3, turn. (18 DC)<br />
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Rows 5 - 9.) DC in each st across. Ch 3, turn.<br />
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Row 10.) DC in next 4 st. Dec in next 8 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch3, turn. (14 DC)<br />
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Row 11.) DC in next 4 st, Dec in next 4 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch 3, turn. (12 DC)<br />
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Row 12.) DC in next 4 st, Dec in next 4 st then DC in each st to the end. Ch 3, turn. (10 DC)<br />
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Rows 13 & 14.) DC in each st across. Ch 3, turn.<br />
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Row 15.) DC in same st as Ch 3. 2 DC in each st across. Ch 3, turn. (20 DC)<br />
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Row 16.) DC in same st as Ch 3. DC in each st to the last one. 2 DC in last st. (22 DC)<br />
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Fasten off.<br />
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<b><u>Fish Head</u></b><br />
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Decide which edge of the fish body will be the top and attach yarn to that edge corner opposite the tail.<br />
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Row 1.) Ch 1 then SC in next 5 st. Turn.<br />
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Row 2.) SS in next st. Ch 1 then SC in next 3 st. Turn.<br />
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Row 3.) SS in next st. Ch 1, SC in next SC and next SS. Ch 1, turn.<br />
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Row 4.) SC in next st. SS in last st.<br />
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Bind off.<br />
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On opposite edge of the body, attach yarn for the bottom jaw.<br />
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Row 1.) Ch 1. SC in next 3 st. Ch 1. turn.<br />
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Row 2.) SC in next 2 st. Ch 1, turn.<br />
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Row 3.) SC in same st as ch 1. SC in next st. Ch 1, turn.<br />
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Row 4.) SS in same st as ch 1. SS in next st.<br />
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Bind off.<br />
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<b><u>Finishing<br />
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Decide which side of the fish is right side up and attach yarn anywhere. Ch 1 and SC in all st around.<br />
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Bind off.<br />
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<u><b>Optional Fish Eye<br />
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Worsted weight yarn in black and white.<br />
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Size H Hook<br />
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Round 1.) With black yarn, ch 2. SC 6 times in the 2nd loop from hook. SS into the first SC and bind off.<br />
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Round 2.) Attach white yarn to any st. Ch 1 and sc in same st as ch. 2 sc in each st around. SS into the ch and ch 1. (12 SC)<br />
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Round .3) SS in same st as ch. *SC in next st. 2 SC in next st.* Repeat from * to * until you are back at the beginning ch. SS into the beginning ch and bind off.<br />
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Position the eye where you want it and sew on.<br />
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If you have any questions about this pattern, please email me at stalkerangie AT gmail DOT com and put in the subject line “Fish Mat.”<br />
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Please fill free to share this pattern with whoever would like it. You may sell anything you make using this pattern, but please list me as the designer and do not sell the pattern as your own or the Stalker will find you.<br />
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Enjoy!!<br />
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<div style="color: #351c75;">Update: I am a dork. It's been proven time and time again. I believe I said I would provide instant messenger information. Oops. Hee! </div><div style="color: #351c75;">Yahoo: stalkerangie</div><div style="color: #351c75;">MSN: ladydragnblade@hotmail.com</div><div style="color: #351c75;">AIM: ladydragnblade18</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Updated (02/19/2011) for anyone still hoping to find me: I no longer use Yahoo or AIM.</span></div><div style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: #351c75;">New MSN: ami0702@hotmail.com ♥ </span> </div>Stalker Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04741846578381749451noreply@blogger.com9