Monday, October 27, 2008


I just feel so awful. Losing 2 pets and a job in less than a month will do that to you, I guess. I used to be funny, but I don't think I am anymore. I'm too fat to be cute. Unemployed, overweight, aging, in debt...I swear if my pets didn't need me alive I'd just end it. I serve no purpose on earth otherwise.
There's other stuff going on too. I write books, and this year I'm selling nothing. Last year I sold a hundred copies, this year less than 5. Very discouraging. So I've been being me instead of Rosie today, pimping my writing on my other blogs, on Myspace, on Amazon. I need the money!
I was doing so good with food the last few weeks at work, with my Special K bars (thanks Jenny) and not eating fast food. Now I'm home and the bars aren't cutting it. I want FOOD. I want to go out to eat. But I can't spend money. Nothing's coming in. It's terrifying.
I just feel so useless. I know everyone who looks at me thinks I'm lazy and probably stupid, not to mention ugly. My hair is starting to fall out again from stress. It did this a year ago while my father was dying, then it started to grow back. Fat and bald? Just fucking shoot me.
And NaNoWriMo starts on Saturday. I have 27 Dresses on top of my DVD queue and I ordered a copy of the script. I thought I had so many ideas on how to spoof it but it's like all the creativity has been sucked from me. I have no clue what I am going to write.
To add insult to injury, I helped a friend move and I got bitten by a spider, on my edema leg, right at the bottom where it's always most sensitive. I didn't know what it was, this hard-as-a-rock patch of skin, itchy as all hell, and painful. My friend looked at it and poked it and said "it's just a spider bite." JUST A SPIDER BITE!? That means a spider was ON ME and put its mouth on me! ARGH. My arthritis knee has been so painful since I came back from vacation that I had to buy a heating pad (2x a day for 30 minutes); I don't need my edema being filled with venom on top of this.

Thursday, October 23, 2008


I am cursed. I went to feed my pets after I finished writing that last post and one of them was dead. Had been alive earlier in the morning.
Just fucking shoot me.


So this is going to be my NaNo blog as well as my fat blog this year. Yahoo 360 is fairly dead, and I don't feel like starting another blog just to write in it for 6 weeks or so.

The official counter widget, above and on the sidebar, doesn't seem to be working properly. I'm hoping it will come online on November 1. Of course I hate the color. I dislike that pale blue. I can recolor one of the static icons but I like the word count ones.
I am going to download the script of the movie "27 dresses" (which I liked) and write a satire of it called "28 dresses". Not sure how it will come out. Definitely not publishable, but it seems like it's light and airy. Too much death and loss around me to write about anything else.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

death & fear

My cat is dead. We put him to sleep. He wanted to go. I sat down and told him we were taking him at a certain time and he'd be with his best friend (who died a few years ago) soon. At the time I told him we'd be taking him, he went into the carrier and meowed at me as if to say, "Let's get on with it." At the vet he laid quietly on the table, didn't fight at all. I had my hand on him and he went instantly. No last sigh of breath, no noise, no struggle. The plunger went in and he was gone. I cried and cried. I feel like I failed him, even though he was 15 and he had just been at the vet a week before and had a full fix-em-up $500+ treatment that did make him better for a few days. My other pets are confused. They keep going to the places where the dying cat was sleeping and looking around, as if to say "where'd he go? wasn't he right here?" There is nothing worse than a grieving pet. At least you can attempt to explain death to a child. A pet doesn't get it.
I ended up going on vacation with my husband after all. I only had to pay for the plane ticket. We went to a tropical island. It rained like mad the whole time. Most mornings I got in a early workout in the hotel pool (11 feet deep! beautiful!) before the rain started, spent the rest of the day online applying for jobs, playing video games or reading.
We went out of Newark airport. My husband's friend drove. I was afraid of the bridge (GW?) and closed my eyes going over it. Then I did the same thing in the glass-sided elevator (hate elevators and escalators, but can't climb stairs with my edema leg). He started pointing out to me that I am afraid of everything. Am I? I don't think of myself as walking around in a constant state of fear, but apparently I do.
And he couldn't believe me and food, even though apparently they work with a guy who also has food neophobia (and hates lettuce as much as I do). He was astonished that I could look at an entire restaurant menu, shake my head, and say "I'll just have a glass of ginger ale." Plus everything was so expensive. I had a personal pizza and a glass of ginger ale (the diet soda was foul beyond belief down there) and it was over $30 (American). And the pizza sucked. Pizza Hut is better. Only Domino's (and Greek pizza of any kind) is worse.
I tried to walk around a lot, as we didn't have a rental car, but my leg wasn't up to it. I was in a state of constant frustation. Worried that I was going to have to ante up the money for that horrible pizza and all the other gross food I ate (like the hamburger that I don't think was even cow meat), or for the hotel ($1700+ for 3 nights) or that my leg would give out, or that I won't find a job and end up losing my house. I did fall once, into a taxi, because I stupidly tried to climb in using my weak leg, which can't lift me into the back of a van.
I can't say I had a BAD time. I didn't. I didn't have a GREAT time. And that had very little to do with my being fat. The pouring rain made it impossible to do anything outside, and my future lack of income meant I couldn't shop or spend money in the hotel's little mall. I had no problem being in the pool or at the beach in a bathing suit (I guess all those years of working out in the pool have made me immune to feeling shame or whatever I'm supposed to feel at being fat and semi-clothed), but when it's pitch-black out and pouring rain with gusts of high wind, being fat is actually a plus. I think skinnies might have gotten blown away outside.
I was reading on an edema website (and no, I don't have the link, stupid me for not bookmarking it) that airplane travel makes edema worse. I didn't walk excessively (more than I do at home) and my workout was about equal to what I do at home, but my leg is almost as bad as it was when I got home in January. I can't straighten it and it hurts a lot and I'm limping badly again. It doesn't SEEM fatter, it just feels bad.