Ugg. Adulting

Look who’s still being terrible:

WE ALL HAVE TO WAIT.

This woman literally infuriates me. I’ve never met her and I cannot STAND HER. And I’m a nice person! I like people. Most people. Even the weirdos (they are my tribe 😉) but this one person is the exception to my kind and gentle heart. Every time I’m on the phone with Batman and we’re laughing about something I said, she zooms past and edges her way in, and the devil on my left shoulder pokes me with his pitchfork and I breathe fire.

FUCKING WAIT LIKE THE REST OF US.

I’m only upset because she’s awful, and I can’t do anything about it. And she does it everyday, which is rubbing it in our faces. The whole thing makes me grouchy. I’m also grouchy because I’ve been falling apart a lot recently, so I’m probably mad that I have the reverse Benjamin button disease and have to age normally. I keep getting older and achier and everything is cracking. Elbows, knees, cankles. It’s like I’m walking around with my own terrible soundtrack. So, I broke down and went to the doctor.

Most of it was motivated while I was sick and someone told me I looked like I had an infection and I that I had to go to the doctor immediately and I had a panic attack and FREAKED OUT. But I was a new patient, so, I had to wait two weeks, and by that time the sickness was gone and I was fine. So, I asked about the collection of tiny bumps on my head and the weird digestive issues I’d been experiencing (aka nausea caused by anxiety.)

The bumps, much to my disappointment, were NOT my twin trying to make a second go at it thirty three years after the fact, but benign (something medical sounding) cysts, and I was instructed to just ignore them. I told Batman but he doesn’t believe me. We’re going to “keep a watch on their size” so I’ll keep you updated on nothing since they’re benign cysts. My digestive anxiety issue isn’t technically/medically diagnosed. And I highly doubt the blood test this week will say otherwise. But when I only get a little nauseous before and during work and never anytime else, I’m comfortable enough with drawing that conclusion. Stress from work causes nerves causes nausea causes sometimes getting sick in the morning. Life can suck like that sometimes—but what’re you going to do?

After another paycheck or two, I’ll be heading to the optometrist —which will make Batman *very happy—and then the dentist. Ugg. Adulting.

There are other (happier) things happening in the background, but I’ve used up enough of your time and my hands hurt from typing so aggressively.

I WILL have to say: my latest passion is Doom Patrol. Have you seen it? PLEASE go watch it! It’s about a group of misfits/anti-heroes who have to fight together to get their leader back. It’s the kind of show that you think about when your mind wanders and maybe right when you wake up. Sooooooo good. I’m going to leave this link right here for you to check it out. (Seriously, it’s awesome. Go watch it! Brendan Fraser is in it. Like, wtf has he been?)

Alright, off to flip through my twenty dollar flower magazine since I blew my spending budget on it. Got to give that baby a few turns to get my money’s worth 😊

Have a great week!

*Batman thinks girls with glasses are hot. If he’s correct, and I’m as blind as he thinks I am, my hotness level will QUADRUPLIFY. Which is hard since it’s pretty much off the charts already.

I Only Feel Half Ripped-Off

I spent twenty dollars on a bridal magazine about flowers.

I’m obviously insane.

Do I have money like that to spend? No. But I’d neglected to check the price, and I liked what I’d flipped through, and my debit card was already out, about to be swiped. Everything was in motion. So, I got it. I spent TWENTY DOLLARS on a magazine because I’m awkward and can’t change my mind mid-purchase, and because it had pretty pictures that I could use for my wedding binder. That’s it. I should justify that a little better, but I can’t. These are the decisions I make. I wanted to finish my art project and apparently, I have good taste. Twenty-dollars-good. Also dropped five dollars at Starbucks so I must’ve been on a roll.

We’re approaching mid-May and a lot of decisions are being made eighteen months out (by the way—this is going to be a wedding post. Have I not mentioned that? Now you know. Carry on 😊). We have the venue and DJ booked and are in heavy research/ correspondence with a potential caterer and florist. Woop! Four out of the big five are in the process of being checked. The photographer is the last piece of the puzzle and I’m saving that for late summer.

I have a pintrest board and if you’re even the slightest bit interested/stalkery, feel free to take a look/stalk to your heart’s content:

SEE MY OBSESSIONS

Whatcha think? I have some ideas. Batman has some too, and we think this event is going to be kick-ass. That’s the goal. Have a kick-ass wedding. Just as I imagined as a little girl 😊

Well, I’m going to flip through my TWENTY DOLLAR magazine and figure out which images will be used for the wedding binder. It’s not even that thick of a magazine. But there are a lot of really beautiful, really inspiring images, so at least I only feel half ripped-off.

Still though…TWENTY DOLLARS?!?!

What the hell Virgo tendencies? Why didn’t you pick up on this shit the second I reached for the thing? Details are OUR THING.

Trying to Skeleton-Key Us

In an effort to lose weight and look sexy at our wedding, Batman and I have taken up walking. We go pretty much every day, and the walk takes around twenty-five minutes. We’re not training for the Olympics or anything, so a speedy stroll around the neighborhood is good start. In fact, I look forward to our strolls because it’s time we get to talk about wedding stuff, work stuff and random stuff without being distracted by Appa or the phone or something needing attention in the house. Walks were our nice little time carved for ourselves.

Now we’ve got to dodge her. ☹

She’s a real person—a REAL NEIGHBOR—and she lured me in with a creepy curl of her pointer finger. Straight up evil-witch style. What does that mean? It means I barely made eye-contact while I was ACROSS THE STREET speed-walking with Batman when she planted herself in her driveway like an immovable Stephen King villain and stared me down until I noticed her. Then—and I repeat— she LURED ME IN with a creepy curl of her pointer finger. Could I have ignored her? Of course. But I’m not rude, and she saw me see her and I at least had to say hello.

So, we did.

Dragging Batman with me, we ended up in a conversation with this lady and her husband—who is either brain-washed or a victim—and about every few comments, she stopped to tell me how beautiful I was. Look, I’m uncomfortable when normal people say it in an everyday situation, but it straight up freaks me out when you tell me repeatedly while staring at me without blinking. And then, after the third or fourth mention, she asked us in for a meal. A MEAL. Like, we just met. And to be clear—what is the meal? Am I the meal? I don’t know. You could be a fucking cannibal.

After telling her that we had to get back to our walk, we managed to get off her driveway and onto the street. There was no glance-back. The second our shoes hit the pavement we were gone. We had too. We’d tried escaping a few times and even at the end there when SHE ASKED IF SHE COULD GO ON OUR WALK WITH US, I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to shake her. But we were free and we were going to keep it that way.

Yes, she’s an older lady and yes, I’m sure a lot of what I said might’ve sounded mean BUT SHE WAS SCARY. Know why she told me I was beautiful? Because she’s a body snatcher and wants to wear my skin. THAT’S WHY.

You’ll know when I stop blogging.

P.S. Batman agrees.  He put it – and I quote – “She’s trying to skeleton-key us.” I’ll keep you posted.

 

Wedding Stuff, Writing Stuff, and Life in General – IWSG

Not sure where to start:

I’m still in the murder desk at work, but not as much as the newest higher, which is *directly* across from the door. She actually faces it, which would give her a few second lead-time on realizing we were all about to get fucked. Unlike me, who has my back to the door and won’t see it coming. I mean, it’s called a murder desk for a reason. I’ve been assigned one of the first-wave casualties due to hire-date, but what can you do? I’ve held better real estate in other offices, but, the pay is good where I am and they bring in free donuts on Thursdays. Guess I can’t complain.

I WILL complain because I’m not eating any free donuts. ☹ Ever since Batman bent the knee and swore fealty, we’ve been trying to be better. Trying not to be so diabetes-in-the-making with our food and beverage choices. We are still so *so* bad at it, at saying no to crap and actually having will power, but we’re getting there. Progress is being made. (Maybe?) And we take a walk almost every day around our neighborhood to lose weight and tone up, but it comes with the price of gossiping neighbors and yapping ankle-biters. This is the sacrifice to look good at our wedding next year.

NEXT YEAR, PEOPLE.

Which is later this year plus some months. We’re getting hitched next November, so again, PLENTY of time between now and then. I’m just glad I haven’t gotten to that panicky-crazy mindset yet, and if I plan things correctly, I shouldn’t. This is the benefit of planning a wedding almost two years out. I can go at my own pace WHILE maintaining a fulltime job AND writing the last book in my series AND not not having a nervous breakdown. Skill level? Awesome 😊

OKAY: I missed last month’s IWSG (somehow?!?) and that’s weird because I usually don’t forget that one. But I am getting old so thankfully, it’s not my good looks going first. Anyway, onto this month’s optional question:

What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

Oh geez. Is it terrible that nothing immediately comes to mind?

*scratches chin for REALLY long minute*

I GUESS it would have to be the first story I ever wrote (Gag! I know) because it was like being handed the keys to this really cool club only the select few knew about. You were probably looking for a “I heard/saw someone say this thing that make this other thing happen.” I’m embarrassed I don’t have one of those, but language definitely surprised me with its power when I realized I could take it by the reigns and steer it in any direction I wanted.

So, there’s my answer 😊 And ha! I remembered to answer this month! Someone’s paying slightly more attention to her surroundings–

SQUIRREL!

Insecure Writer’s Support Group (IWSG) is a monthly blog hop for writers at all levels to share their fears and insecurities in a safe and encouraging place. Please drop by and say hi to Alex Cavanaugh who started this nifty concept in bringing us all together.

P.S. Someone bought two of my books yesterday, so that was pretty cool. 😊

Welcome to Palm Coast, FL

What’s the best way to spend the weekend besides being a billionaire with a private jet and loads of cash? Give up? Well, you should because there are a lot of acceptable answers and one of them is how I spent this past weekend: family reunion 2019 baby. 😊

Look, when you live in Florida, people have an excuse to come visit you. And when you’re as cool as Batman and me, well, that’s just a bonus.

Welcome to Palm Coast, FL.

Rooming with twelve people can get terrible really quickly, so we collectively made the decision not to kill one another and enjoy the accommodations. (These are all courtesy of Batman).

Nice digs, eh?

Also, there was no itinerary! I LOVED that! We were able to hang with people over here or over there, in the beach or in the pool (ours or one of the TWO community pools) or at the beach. I simply LOVED that! Everything was so easy going and chill and Batman and I had a blast 😊 We’ll be seeing everyone again next year at our wedding (tee-hee!) so there’s just another reason to look forward to it.

What about you? How’d you spend your weekend? Do anything cool? What do you do for family reunions?

Birthday Buttons Work

Somehow, I not only forgot that it was Wednesday (last week) but I also COMPLETELY FORGOT it was the first Wednesday of the month which means I missed the IWSG post. ☹

It’s okay. As long as I don’t miss two in a row, I won’t get kicked out of the club. I’ve earned my spot in the top 100 by never missing more than two consecutive posts. So, at least I’m not out of the game yet. But still. What was I thinking? How did I miss posting my weekly blog? I’ve only been (successfully keeping up/) doing this Wednesday posting-thing since Octoberish 2017. I don’t know. I guess time got away last week.

Also: it was Batman’s birthday. 😊 That might have something to do with it.

He’s 33, which is the age Jesus was when he died, and I’ve been reminding Batman of it constantly. It’s not my fault. HE’s always rubbing in the fact that I’m six months older, which means I’m a cradle-robber, apparently? Whatever. I still claim dying first so I win. Anyway, he turned 33 and since we live in Florida, we traveled back down to Orlando because we’re adults and we can.

Destination: MGM & Magic Kingdom

Ever hear of a birthday button? It’s an actual button you where that makes cast members wish you happy birthday while “sprinkling all kinds of magic fairy dust your way.” Sounds cool, right? WELL IT IS. 😊 😊 Batman’s birthday button scored ultimate fairy dust. Like, ultimate-ultimate. So much that we are pretty much only going back when it’s one of our birthdays. (Seriously. These things are awesome).

Since Batman was turning the big 3-3, he picked MGM and the Magic Kingdom as the two parks we’d visit. The first day we did MGM and wanted to ride 1) the Rocking Roller Coast and 2) the new Slinky Dog Coaster in the new Toy Story land. Both lines were consistently at over an hour wait. The estimated standby entrance showed 75 minutes. 90 minutes. 110 minutes. Every single time we checked, (and we looped the park probably five times), it was ALWAYS A WAIT and there was no way we were standing in the heat for over an hour to ride a three-minute ride. No way. And Batman and I, being smart adults, agreed it wasn’t worth it. We’d checked both rides around 4-5 times throughout the day, but it just wasn’t meant to happen.

Enter: Guest Relations

As we were leaving, we stopped by Guest Relations because apparently, I don’t know how to buy us Disney tickets. The lady who admitted us into the park said we grossly overpaid and should see GR about getting it taken care of. We did, and everything turned out fine, but because Batman was sporting that truly magical birthday button, the lady helping us asked if there was any ride we didn’t get to do. We mentioned the Rocking Roller coaster along with the Slinky Dog Coaster, and she typed something into her system. When she gave us back our park tickets, she said we had fast passes to go on BOTH rides to be used at ANY TIME WE WANT for the rest of the day.

Uh, can I say pretty fucking magical?

We booked it to one end of the park, rode the Rocking Roller Coaster in less than five minutes, then we hightailed it to Toy Story land and rode the Slinky Dog Coaster. Ten minutes. All day long we checked and were disappointed, and we did both in the last half an hour.

Birthday buttons work. I’m just saying. 😉

Anyway, I’m going to blame missing last week’s post on Batman. It makes me feel better and he’s not here to defend himself. But seriously: if you’re considering visiting Disney for your birthday (I assume they work in CA too) do yourself a favor and get a birthday button. You’ll thank me later.

And because I remembered to take a few photos throughout the days, here are the best ones:

Into MGM. I already passed the entry sign and there’s no turning back.

Toy Story Land, everyone.

Here we have a great view of almost being trampled.

To infinity, and beyond!

The People Mover. Arguably the best ride in the Magic Kingdom.

At the entrance to the Beauty and the Beast Castle restaurant.

(Restaurant entrance)

LOOK!!!! It EXISTS!

Eating ice cream on a sidewalk. Best way to wind down Disney.

Nope Nope NOPE

I left a one-star review on a hotel. ☹

Typically, I refrain from reviewing or rating my experiences because 1) I just don’t care and 2) I forget about it minute a later, so it’s rare that I leave a comment. However, I left one about my stay in Tampa two days ago. I mean, look, Hotels.com, if you really want feedback on the TERRIBLENESS of your suggested option, I will tell you:

First: GROSS

HOW are there sooooooo many rips in the curtains? WHY are there stains in the lamp shades? WHERE did the paint go? WHY IS THIS NOT OBVIOUSLY BEING ADDRESSED BY STAFF? (Oh, and there was a tear in the “comforter” too. Batman showed me but I was too annoyed to take yet another picture. Plus, I didn’t want to think about the possible stabbing that caused it. *shudders*)

Second: LIARS

If the grossness wasn’t enough, how about the act of betrayal? Usually, I stick to my code of known name brand with a king bed and free breakfast. But we were going to be in Tampa for a night. One night. I wasn’t shelling out two hundred dollars—the going rate—for one night. But this place looked nice. Pictures were great and, if I’m to be honest (and somewhat shallow), the outside reminded me of a Holiday Inn.

BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT WAS PREVIOUSLY.

These fools bought (or possibly found) an old Holiday Inn and didn’t bother to renovate. You can tell it’s an old Holiday Inn because the outline of the letters are still clearly visible on the building, which means they also didn’t bother to clean. Or put any sort of effort into making this place their own. Or good. Or hospitable.

Third: EMPTY

To top it all off, they were out of candy.

I sent Batman on a mission for a bottle of water and a candy bar. He came back with the water and nothing else, and part of me died. No candy. No FREAKING candy. Ripped curtains. Stained lamp. LIED TO. And now no candy?

What. The. Fuck.

Let this be a lesson to you: stick to the code. Don’t deter from the code or else THIS will happen. You’ll find yourself candy-less in a bed where a stabbing most likely occurred, next to a set of drapes where the stabbing most likely continued. The whole place is a murder scene. You’re in a murder scene.

Stick to the code.

EDIT: I DID take a picture of the rip in the “comforter”

I wasn’t lying. Not like some “hotels.”

But seriously, how are you out of candy?!?!