Bon Voyage

I'm a whirlwind. Nervous energy has a hold on me. Menial, last minute tasks are a huge deal. I've cried twice already this morning. I'm supposed to be excited, not freaking out about everything. If I could stand to sit here, I'd anaylize it all to death, but I'm a wreck and even getting this much out is so difficult. What in the hell is wrong with me? This is a vacation, for crying out loud. And I'm losing my damn mind.

Happy Hallmark Day

So what if Valentine's Day is all hype? It's fun, romantic hype!

The Skinny on Drugs

The big headline today is the passing of Anna Nicole Smith... It's been speculated by the media that her death was caused by an overdose of prescription drugs- the same way her son died a few months ago. How sadly ironic. While I was never a fan of the blonde celebrity, I can't help but wonder if her death was accidental or on purpose. Smith admitted that she had struggled with drug addiction for years, and while she maintained she was sober in recent months, the media circus that surrounded her seemed to capture a very depressed, sick, and overmedicated woman.

Prescription drug abuse has almost become a trend. It infuriates me. Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie are two examples of young starlets who became gaunt and frail in a matter of months and saw a huge rise in popularity. These two girls I've named have both been in and out of rehab and have admitted to using prescription painkillers, among other weight suppressing substances. Because I've been on pain medication for such a long period of time, I know the side effects. Opiates take away your appetite almost completely and actually list anorexia as one of the possible side effects. I went from a sexy, slender 128lbs to a fragile and skinny 105lbs...And I'm 5' 8".What scares me is that I like being tiny... Even though I know I'm too thin right now. Hollywood glamorizes the thin craze, and even here, in small town Indiana, a size six isn't good enough anymore. It's sick and it's dangerous.

Aaron has been a yo yo dieter since the day that I met him, and I tease him relentlessly. However, as he's gotten older he's maintained a strict workout schedule even if he's shoveling Taco Bell in his mouth. He's been trying to get ' bathing suit ready' ( I know, such a fucking girl!!) for Jamaica and had been losing weight really quickly because of the additional physical labor in the basement. He jokingly made a comment about being even more dedicated to losing pounds because he had an anorexic wife. I laughed and starting naming off the signs of anorexia to defend myself. I stopped mid sentence. The not eating, the body dysmorphia. I still think I have love handles. I don't want to lose any more weight, but I'm afraid to gain. Even though I could gain ten pounds and still be little. Something is wrong with this picture, and I need to address it.

I have to go to Chicago to get a temporary passport on Thursday. Ugh. The traffic, the hours in the car... I have weaned down on the Norco by two pills, and I didn't think it would affect me much, but it has. I've had a throbbing headache for 3 days and my stomach is churning constantly. My bones hurt. My jaw is clenched. I'm grouchy. I should be stabilized by the time we go to Jamaica, but man, I'm in for it when we get home. I'm scared. I don't want to let myself go back into that dark, lonely place. If I can just focus on the light, and reach out to those around me I will be ok. I have a plan of action- I just need to follow through. And not be afraid to ask for help when I need it.

Hey, at least I'll have a gorgeous tan while I'm detoxing. And I'll try and have lots of sex to take away the pain temporarily.

Family Feud

I am beyond agitated... If I had to guess, I would say that Aaron is probably irritated as well, although I know he's not obsessing over it the way I am. Our morning was a fucking trainwreck... If I tried to explain the trickle down of events it would take me hours, but it suffices to say that we did not say good-bye on the best of terms. Tonight we are supposed to go see Jim Gaffigan perform with two other couples, and the last thing I want to do is pretend everything is fine when it's not, or go and be miserable.

I hate fighting. I hate the anger that wells up inside of me when I can't express myself or understand why Aaron is behaving a certain way. Usually, I'll just take blame for everything that goes wrong, and today when I didn't, things got unpleasant in a hurry. I don't know who's right and who's wrong, and I don't even care. The issues themselves are small ones. It's the way we can be downright vicious and childish towards one another without any warning. It hasn't happened in a while, and it caught me completely off guard. Now, I'm a jumbled mess of confused emotions.

Honestly, I think my husband has been keeping his frusterations and stresses from me and he just snapped this morning. I hope that we can reach a point in our relationship where he doesn't always treat me like a china doll about to break. I hope that at some point, I can listen to him be upset and not feel the overwhelming need to defend myself...

I wonder if we would have fought had we made it to our counseling session yesterday???

We'll never want to leave home again!

Some pictures of the bar.

When Aaron came to Calgary to meet me for the first time, he laughed at the fact that Canadians plug their cars in during the winter... He had never seen a vehicle with a cord hanging out of the hood before. I explained that the cold winter weather froze the batteries and we kept them warm by plugging them in during -30 Celcius temperatures.

He's not laughing anymore. The midwest has been hit with the worst cold sweep in years. My car won't start without a jump because it's so cold. Today we finally took the Jeep in to get fixed. The AAA is backed up, and mechanics are overbooked. I tried to get a new battery put in my car as well, but the wait was over three hours! Stores and schools are closed. With the windchill, temperatures are -20 Farenheight! I refuse to do the math conversion, because I don't want to know how cold it really is.

My friend Liv celebrated her 30th birthday this weekend, which was so much fun. Friday night was filled with us just being us... silly and a little bit 'special'. Her husband had booked us a huge suite at a hotel, so after dinner, it was back there to hang out and take pictures. We literally spent hours acting stupid in front of the camera. After a few more antics and a late start on Saturday, we made it out to the mall, where my girl Liv got to buy herself a whole new wardrobe. Being the fucking fashionista that I am, I was asked to be her stylist for the day. It wasn't hard to dress her- the girl is gorgeous! Although we had our frantic moments; it was a huge success and we had a fantastic time. If anyone deserved a little getaway and a whole new look, it was Olivia. That girl has a heart of gold.

By 7:30 Saturday night we were done, and it was time to head back for Liv's surprise birthday party. ( I think I kind of ruined it a little- I have such a big mouth!!!) The drive back to her place was brutal because of the weather, but we made it in one piece. When we got to her house, it was decked out in tropical gear and all of her friends were waiting. It was just the right sized party, and a great time was had by all.

Sunday morning I had to head back out into the storm, so that I could go home and prepare for the Superbowl. I was exhausted and wanted nothing to do with any more activity, but I forced a smile, drank some coffee and decided to just go with the flow. I hadn't seen the basement furnished, and I was blown away when I walked downstairs. The room is beautiful. I'm proud to say that I had a huge part in designing, though I didn't do a lick of physical labor. The real props go to Aaron, and ahem, our buddy Chad. Of course, now that most of it is finished, Aaron is going over all of the reciepts and asessing the damage. We'll be waiting to add the additional asthetics we want to complete the look. The budget? Long surpassed. But it's equity in our home, a really cozy place to watch movies, and an awesome place to entertain people.

Which leads me to the Superbowl party. It was in many ways, exactly what I expected. All of Aaron's friends immediately assumed our house was the new place to party every weekend. They made fun of us when we told them that wasn't going to be the case. Aaron was actually surprised at how brazen they were, but I predicted they'd think we were a cool, free place to drink on Saturday nights. There were only five girls out of the twenty five guests, so the testosterone level was high. One of the guys brought a date; a sweet baby faced 20 year old, who is going to be on an MTV show. The single men were stepping all over one another trying to get her attention. You would think the cameras were already following her.

A few surprises were in store for me. Aaron's best friend Brad took me aside in the kitchen and actually told me he thought I was an amazing, talented, strong and beautiful woman. He knows enough about me to know that I come from a fucked up family (not that people don't have it worse that I did!!) and battle my own demons. It's never something we've talked about, but he brought it up, and told me that most people who feel overwhelmed and depressed just quit trying. He actually got tears in his eyes when he told me he could see I was a fighter, and had changed so much over the last six years. He told me that I was the best woman for his best friend. I was nearly speechless. Clearly, I misjudged him. Sincerely I thanked him, and when our eyes met, they overflowed with tears.

By the time the football game was over, I could see that nearly everyone was feeling their liquor. So when someone brought up religion, I immediately tried to distance myself from the conversation. I hadn't had a drink all day, and knew that it would be futile to try and reason with the loopy god talk. Here I was, trapped behind the bar, at my own house, defending my beliefs to a bunch of drunk "Christians." I tried to walk away, but was unsuccessful. I stated simply that I was pro choice, believed in equal rights for gay people, and didn't think the bible was the absolute truth. I might as well have said 'god is a motherfucker,' and they would have taken it the same way. Nothing I said had any validity, because I'm not a Christian. They were shocked when I said I didn't think there was one religion that had it right, appalled when I proclaimed that I saw benefits in many religions, but didn't think there was a heaven or hell. I'm sure they saw little red horns grow from my head as I was speaking. Finally, after at least an hour of being preached to, I threw my hands in the air and walked away. I didn't care if they were looking at me with pity and fear. Enough was enough. I don't try and force my beliefs on anyone, so why do people feel they need to shove their faith down my throat?

Our Jamaican getaway is in jeopardy again- but we've found a costly way to insure it so that we can take it at a later date. Everything is in limbo. Aaron spoke to the joke we call The Department of Homeland Security yesterday and was informed that I was NOT able to fly without my passport. So, we got back on the phone with Customs and both the Canadian and Jamaican Consulates. Again we were told that I because I have a green card, I don't need my passport. Aaron thinks we should just go now, but I am scared shitless of getting stuck somewhere because my ID isn't up to par. It's possible for the Consulate to issue me a temporary passport, which would be the easiest for the trip, but the biggest hassle before and afterwards. Right now we are waiting on several phone calls.

Whew. It has been a crazy few weeks. I can't imagine what's in store for the next month, the next year... There will be no shortage of change.

Get me that straight jacket...

The last two days have been testing my patience to the limit. Our mild winter was of course, only temporary, and we got one hell of a storm. Aaron and I had a business dinner to attend last night, and we got about a mile down the road and realized that the fan was broken in our Jeep. Snow was blowing all around and the roads were pure black ice... Sitting in a cold vehicle for half an hour scraping the frosty windows was not an option, so we headed back home to switch cars. The Superbowl party is days away, so the timing of the breakdown could not have been worse. We're in a frenzy trying to get the finishing touches done, and we can't get the truck in until Monday. Poor Aaron has been driving around in the cold picking up the last few supplies, covered in a blanket and wearing foot warmers. Luckily, the Jeep has heated seats...

In an effort to help him out, I went out today to run some errands. When I returned, I was thrilled to see a large envelope with Passport Canada stamped on it. As soon as I touched it my heart sank- it was far to thin to be holding a passport. Sure enough, inside was a copy of the photo I sent, and a letter stating that I was smiling (not allowed anymore- wtf??) and that the picture was too dark ( I guess professionals don't always know what they are doing) so my application is halted until I get new pictures resigned by a guarantor and sent off.

I panicked. Our trip is non refundable. We are supposed to leave for Jamaica on the 20th of this month, and I sent the application in three months early so that I wouldn't get caught in the inevitable delay when the policy changed. Aaron and I started calling the Canadian consulate, and we discovered that I don't have to own a passport to go to Jamaica as long as I have my green card and my birth certificate. The only problem is that Passport Canada is holding my birth certificate with the application, and you can't just call them up and have them send it back. Finally, it dawned on me to call Alberta Registries. Luckily, their process will take a week at the most. As long as I don't get an asshole at customs, everything should be ok. But I've been stuck before and it's no fun. I can't believe I messed my passport pictures up. Oh well, I have a new haircut now, so at least I'll have cuter pictures the second time around.

In the middle of all of this chaos, my doctor's office calls. My doctor is going to be on vacation the day I'm scheduled to go in and begin the rest of my taper... Somehow, no one knew this when I made the appointment last week. I was forced to move the appointment to the following week. Of course it's not that easy. I only have enough medication to last until the original appointment day. Federal law dictates that you can only have 30 days worth of controlled substances at a time and you need to see a doctor for a refill. So, because I don't want to be sick in Jamaica, I have to try and figure out my own taper plan for the next three weeks. God, maybe I should just cut it all off and be sick for a week and hope that I feel human for the trip. Had I known this scheduling 'conflict' was going to happen, I would have continued reducing my medication. The damned doctor was the one who told me to wait. And now he's just gone and fucked up his instructions at my expense. Thanks doc.

I'm irritated, aggravated and fed up.