Insomnia Sucks

Let's ramble, shall we?

I hate my scale, I want to beat it into teeny tiny unrecognizable pieces.  Why?  Because I have been literally working my ass off and the damn thing never budges.  Seriously, it's making me quite mad.  Now please don't be rational with me about this.  I go to the gym four to five times a week, I know I'm shrinking, my clothes fit better, I'm getting in great shape.  I also know quite well that muscle weighs more than fat, but c'mon throw me a bone here!  I eat salads five to six days a week, I'm up to eyeballs in supplements and healthy meals, I avoid sugar like the plague.  So why why why will the scale not budge.  I have this 6 lb window, all I do is move up and down within that small range.  How can I go down two pants sizes and not lose more than six pounds?!?!?  h8 h8 h8

My birthday was last week, it was not the best I've ever had.  The absolute bright spot was the cake that our au pair made for me.  I cannot tell you the last time someone actually baked me a cake from scratch.  And it was an ohmygawd cake -- 2 full lbs of dark chocolate went into making it.  Dark chocolate cake, soaked in coffee and rum, ganache filling, homemade whipped cream decorations on top with hand-chopped dark chocolate decorations.  It was totally awesome and I don't think she realizes how much all her work meant to me. :)

Beyond that however, it was pretty much a wash.  I'm not exactly fair about it, I have these little internal expectations and when they don't get met I enjoy a self-indulgent sulk.  But since I don't share said expectations it's kind of a forgone conclusion that I will get disappointed.  Vicious cycle I tell ya.  It's not about the gifts, I honestly just like to be remembered on my birthday and allowed to feel just a little bit special.  So let's see -- no breakfast in bed, my husband didn't even say Happy Birthday until like ... noon (we were at the gym).  The present he bought me, which was a totally gorgeous bracelet, didn't come in time - so no gift.  He didn't even sign his card till like 3, when I had to get ready to go to work.  Yes, I worked on my birthday.  Then while we were having coffee and that awesome cake ... my dogs got in an awful fight with one of our cats.  She passed away a few days later from her injuries. :(  Oh and my mother didn't call.  But hey!  My dad sent me twenty bucks like three later!  I actually feel a little bad when folks asked me, "How are you?"  I don't want to answer honestly.  Like I said, it's just fodder for a totally self-indulgent and overblown sulk.  I pouted for a bit and moved on, there's always next year after all!

A local building company has purchased the four acres next to my house and has decided to put in a cul-de-sac and squeeze like 11 houses back there.  This is all happening RIGHT next door.  Backhoes and chainsaws going non-stop since last Monday.  Now the woods surrounding my house are filled with terrific trees, a lot of them are pine that stand 40+ feet tall.  As I heard them come down I was literally wincing, in tears.  I'm just numb to it now.  We had our own wildlife community here - deer, turkeys, foxes, raccoons, opossums, woodchucks, squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, bats, even a bear.  That doesn't even count the hawks nests, and our owl.  Where will they go now?  They weren't bothering a soul, and it's just ripping the soul out of this tiny patch of quiet.  Even my 9 year old stepdaughter is demanding we move now, she can't stomach being around "people who would do this."  Don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware that at one point they probably had to do something very similar just to build the house I now live in ... it just feels very personal and very sad.  Not to mention that HELLO, we work NIGHTS!  Oy.

In other news, I used my evil overlord powers on Jen and forced her to indulge in even YET another yummy fragrance for her extensive repetoire.  And Laurell K Hamilton's next Merry Gentry book comes out in April, so I was forced to re-read the series up to that point -- so I can be prepared for the next way of soft core Sidhe porn.  It was a moral imperative.

My parents close on their Jersey house this coming Friday (finally).  They will adjourn to my late grandmother's house in VA, which they fixed up for themselves.  I'm pretty convinced that the next time I see them, will only be as a result of a calamity.  It's just got a sense of impending finality.

I suppose I can toss in a Satan story as well.  At some point in the last few days, my darling son must've seen some type of birth on television (I'm truly hoping it was Animal Planet).  Anyway, he's been taking his stuffed animals and cramming them into his pull-up -- until he's got this huge bulging pouch going on.  He'll even pat it and such.  Then he'll waddle around like that for a bit.  When he's had enough he squats down and makes horrid grunting noises, even saying "push" once in awhile.  Then he pulls one of the stuffed animals out of the bottom of his pull-up and begins petting it, saying "Good job!"  If he's really proud of his performance, he'll take a bow too.  Not quite sure where he got it from, but I'm dying to tell his first real girlfriend. ;)

Course, he also won't use the potty without wearing a ski mask -- I have yet to figure out that correlation.

My husband wants to collaborate on a non-fiction book with me, centered around our personal philosophies of emergency care.  Intriguing idea, but I have stage fright!

Alright there, I've rambled.  If anyone made it this far and would like me to post about a particular topic -- lay it on me.