Man Thongs, Broken FCD and Pink Hair

Today was a typical day of randomness.  I found myself not really wanting to focus on anything and all the people of the Glass Palace made it ever so easy for me to be distracted.  I started my day talking to a friend in crisis.  I'm full of advice and, in my new "empowered" state, I am wanting everyone to be empowered.  I told my friend it was time to consider what she needed out of life and to think about what she wanted.  I was giving her permission to be selfish and put all the drama to the side.  I could see in her eyes that she was not quite ready to do this, but that she truly wanted to.  I know she will be okay, she's just going through some shit. I mean, shit happens.  It gets on your shoe and you can get the chunks off in the grass, but the scent remains until the shoe is truly cleansed. (Damn, that's some good shit right there.  I'm going to share that with the Rug Doctor.)  Anyway, I listened to my friend and dispensed all of the advice that I am so full of.  I think it helped a little.  We all just want to be heard.  We all just want to feel safe and loved.  I even hugged her, no payment required.

The day progressed and I found myself scattered here or there.  Smarty Pants came to visit me and check-in.  I flipped him some crap because last time I saw him, he was doing the ice bucket challenge in his underwear.  Like, briefs. Like, it was a lot of him to see all at once when you consider I only see him at work...fully clothed.  He then gave a full dissertation about underwear and the different kinds and how his buddies felt in those kinds.  Which brought us to the logical question, "Have you ever worn a thong? How do  we feel about that?"  Turns out, he has, once, but it was a "gag" thong.  The part where his junk hung was apparently a horse head and if you pushed a certain spot, it whinnied.  Hey, I don't judge...okay, I do a little.  Anyway, then we talked about his wife wearing a thong all the time and being at one with it.  He said sometimes she says she has a wedgie.  Wait, stop.  How in the hell do you know if you have a wedgie if you are wearing a thong?  It is a string up your ass.  It's always up there.  It begs the question, "at what point is it 'wedged'?"  Someone will have to explain that to me because I wore a thong one time (trying to be sexy) and within 20 minutes, I was so angry, I had to take it off before someone had to die.  If any of you can shed some light on that, please feel free to comment below.  I'm actually curious.

Sometime after Smarty Pants left, I started to realize two things.  One, the sneezing that had been going on has now turned to a sore throat.  This better be allergies, because I will cut a bitch if I get a cold over my three day weekend. Freaking germ incubating Glass Palace!  I found some Halls lozenges in my drawer.  It says they expired March of 2013.  That's not really that long ago, right?  They weren't gooey and stuck to the paper, so I went for it.  I have not experienced any sort of fallout from these ancient lozenges so I think I'm going to make it....that is, as long as this doesn't turn into Ebola.  I mean, I don't know what my co-workers do on the weekends or on vacation.  A girl can never be too safe.  Anyway, the second thing I noticed is that after 3 days in a row on the elliptical machine at my lunch time, my leg muscles hated my guts.  I'm walking around like a 90 yr old man and can barely get out of my chair.  This isn't pretty, folks.  I did make it to the bathroom.  I looked in the mirror and thought, what the hell?  This six-week hiatus from the gym really took it's toll, look at my gut sticking out like one of those starving kids on one of those "for just 25 cents a day, you can feed a child..." commercials. It was also at that moment that I felt my bra pinching.  Something was wrong. I went into the stall and realized that my FCD (Fat Controlling Device), which should reach my knees, was completely up above my belly shoved up against my bra.  How'd that happen?  WTF?  I broke my effing FCD!  They gave up on me.  They stopped sucking the fat in and just unleashed it without a care.  It's like it finally said, "I've had enough, I can't hold your fat in one more day, one more second, one more anything."  I pulled everything back down where it belonged, but by the time I had walked out of the stall and to the door, it was already to my ass heading for higher elevation.  I tried to reason what was happening.  I mean, I was wearing nylons, which would have created a slippery foundation for my FCD, but I had worn this combination before.  There was only one logical conclusion left...I broke it.  Like a single fat girl at a bridal shower, it broke down and ate all the cake it could cram in it's face and GAVE UP.  Now what?  I need this gut harnessed.  I can't walk around like this.  What's next?  My underwear?  Is the waistband just going to snap one last time and then slide down around my ankles? Will I have to turn to wearing a thong?  I don't think the Glass Palace could handle anymore of my rage. Also, my bra already rides up and shifts to the right all the time.  The only thing not letting me down were my nylons.  I didn't get a hole in them or snag them all day.  But what if they join the wardrobe revolution and start sliding down, too?  How am I going to get dressed tomorrow without my favorite FCD?  I'm angry, hurt...and frankly, looking a little bit like a muffin in the mid-section.

Feeling defeated, I just left the bathroom and let that mother trucking FCD go wherever it wanted to. Fuck it.  I decided to go see Stiletto Barbie and Zumba Barbie. That should make me feel better.  I arrived at their desk and found them sitting there with pink streaks in their hair.  I don't know what really happens in their cube, but clearly, left unattended, mayhem happens.  What I have come to learn over the years is that sometimes the "why" isn't important.  Sometimes joining in the crazy is all you need to do.  With that said, this happened:

Duck face included, free of charge.

They say it will wash out.  I really hope it does.  Shark Bait actually seems to like it.  He has commented multiple times that he really likes it and it is "fun."  My redneck husband thinks pink hair is "fun."  I didn't see that coming.

Anyway, I pretty much was mentally done once I became a punk with pink hair.  I called it a day and headed home.  Traffic was a mess, as usual.  And, I don't want to seem like I am judging anyone driving a Kia Soul, but you all drive like asshats.  There, I said it.  There may be some specific cases of Kia Soul owners not driving like asshats, but I believe those to be rare and undocumented voyages.  Oh, and by the way, you don't get a "free left" at a red light, dumbass.  I don't know if an actual hamster (you know, like on the commercials?) was driving that thing or what, but last I checked, you don't just pause and go at a red light.  The good news is, since I'm all about being positive and empowered (at this moment), I made it home.  In once piece.

Tomorrow I am assisting with the baked potato bar fund raiser...can't wait.  More people interacting with food.  A true recipe for stupidity, bitching and, at some point, me leaning over the table pointing my finger at someone telling them if they don't like it, to go stuff it.   <-- See what I did there? baked potato...stuffed...? never mind.

I'm Unbreakable...I am.

The last couple of days, I have had any number of things to blog about.  Like, the baby shower I went to on Saturday and all the thoughts around that.  Boring.  No one wants to hear about that emotional baggage.  Or, the trip that would never end yesterday on the way home or the start to my day today.  Eh, I'm over it. The moments of insanity and hilarity are over, and really, you had to be there.  So, what am I blogging about tonight?  That's a good question.  I hope I know the answer to that by the time I am done letting my fingers type and my mind wander.

The past week I've actually been pretty introspective.  My friend, the California Counselor, and I have been sending emails back and forth to each other talking about all the deep places in our minds.  The California Counselor is my oldest friend.  I've known her since I was four or five years old.  She is a huge part of my childhood and growing into adulthood.  She has been there for many milestones for me, whether it was in person, or from hundreds of miles away.  She is always there.  We may not talk for a year, but I think of her often and sometimes, just when I least expect it, there is an email, a text or a card in the mail.  Always offering support or encouragement.  She knows me well and her mind travels many places that my mind does. I received one of these perfectly-timed emails from her this past week.  Almost as if she knew I needed it.  I related to much of what she said and have been thinking about it ever since.  After all, I am a thinker. An analyzer...bordering on obsessing at times.  I'm deep, people.  I got shit on my mind.  I got stuff to figure out.  It's like Pinterest quotes exploded in my head.  It's a mess up there.

After considering my last blog about exchanging a day of my life and the words of the California Counselor, I have considered that the person in charge of me is me and I'm getting in my way.  So, if I can just get me, to kick me in the ass and then get out of my way, I'd "have this by the ass" as my Dad used to say.  I am recalling a certain blog I wrote at the beginning of the year...The Year of Angry Pony  http://angry-pony.blogspot.com/2013/12/2014-year-of-angry-pony.html (if you want to revisit).   I made a promise to myself that I would wear a little black dress by the end of the year...no matter what, no matter where I was at in my journey.  I want that moment to mean something.  To that end, I must get unstuck. 

This morning, I put my big girl panties on (and my Pranx/Spanx) and made a commitment to myself that I would make it to the gym on my lunch hour.  I have taken a six week hiatus allowing my body some time to mend from over-training. But it is time to return. I did make it to the gym today.  Ass Kicker lit up like a Christmas tree.  It felt right to be there.  I want to be an athlete.  I didn't know that until I got hurt and couldn't go for a while.  But I want it and I need to stop being a big baby about it.  Hey, me, yeah me, Get off my ass and make it happen.  No one else can do this but me. I am committed to shutting up the negative voices and making it back there every day, or to Cassondra's gym at home in the barn.

On the way home tonight I heard a song that really struck a cord with me.  It was on some compilation CD I had.  It's called "Unbreakable" by Jamie Scott.  I love this song and I am dedicating it to me, from me.  Here is the link to listen, if you want, or here are the lyrics:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cG-JIvyOZo

Unbreakable by Jamie Scott

She finds it hard to trust someone,
She's heard the words cause they've all been sung.
She's the girl in the corner,
She's the girl nobody loved.
But I can't, I can't stop thinking about you everyday,
And you can't, you can't listen to what people say.
They don't know you baby,
Don't know that you're amazing,
But I'm here to stay.

When you lose your way and the fight is gone,
Your heart starts to break
And you need someone around now.
Close your eyes while I put my arms above you,
And make you unbreakable.
She stands in the rain, just hide it all.
If you ever turn around,
I won't let you fall down now.
I swear I'll find your smile,
And put my arms around you,
And make you unbreakable.

Cause she's the girl that I never had,
She's the heart that I wanted bad.
The song I heard on the radio
That made me stop and think of her.
And I can't, I can't concentrate anymore.
And I need, I need,
Need to show her what her heart is for,
It's been mistreated badly,
Now her world has started falling apart,
Falling apart.

When you lose your way and the fight is gone,
Your heart starts to break
And you need someone around now.
Close your eyes while I put my arms above you,
And make you unbreakable.
She stands in the rain, just hide it all.
If you ever turn around,
I won't let you fall down now.
I swear I'll find your smile,
And put my arms above you,
And make you unbreakable.

You need to know that somebody's there all the time,
I'd wait in line, and I hope It's yours.
Can't walk away 'til your heart knows,
That it's beautiful.
Oh, I hope you know, It's beautiful.

When you lose your way and the fight is gone,
Your heart starts to break
And you need someone around now.
Close your eyes while I put my arms above you
And make you unbreakable.
She stands in the rain, just hide it all.
If you ever turn around,
I won't let you fall down now.
I swear I'll find your smile,
And put my arms above you,
And make you unbreakable.

Cause I love, I love, I love, I love you darling.
Yes I love, I love, I love, I love you darling.
And I'll put my arms around you,
And make you unbreakable.

And so, this is my song.  My anthem. I am unbreakable.  I will make the changes I need to because I need to get behind me.  I need to support me.  And, to those around me that may be struggling, I am still here for you, because I care, but I am on a journey.  I'm inviting you to come, too, however, the caveat is, you need to be able to keep up with me, or I will leave you behind.  I am not engaging in self-pity, woe is me, and all that. No more. I only have enough strength for me right now, I can't carry you on my back.  Get up and walk.  Use a walker, a cane, whatever, I'm not carrying you in my backpack. I may be unbreakable, but I need arms around me, not arms dragging me down.  I urge you, make the commitment for yourself. Stand up, come with me. I promise, it beats the hell out of the alternative, which is, trading another day of your life for time spent on earth instead of time spent living on this earth.

This is what I am going to tell myself, anyway.  It can't hurt, right? 

Countdown to little black dress - three months. 
And, GO!

Exchanging A Day of My Life

I saw the above quote today and it made me think hard. (If you can't see the image for some reason, it says, "What you do today is important because you are exchanging a day of your life for it.") These little introspective quotes always irritate me because they always have a way of making me feel like I'm doing something wrong.  This "author unknown" has gotten into my head and let me know that, no pressure, but your life is passing right in front of your eyes and what you have done today may just have been a colossal waste of time.  You didn't do enough, you didn't do the right thing, you didn't do....anything.

I don't know if it has been the weather this past week making me feel like summer is over, or what the dealio is, but I'm feeling kind of melancholy and this quote just made me angry.  Angry because, I just exchanged a day of my life for what?  I didn't do anything fun.  Just go and look at Facebook and you can see that many people are out there having fun...living life. Making sure their day will not need to be "exchanged."  Well, I'm not having fun.  I got up this morning with feelings of great potential and at some point it all got derailed.  Not because anything upsetting or disruptive happened, but because, left to my own devices, I apparently suck at living life.  I mean, I got the eating, sleeping, pooping thing down.  I'm okay at that.  I mean, half the time, I'm eating the wrong thing and sleeping isn't always easy, but the pooping, that is going pretty good.  So, to recap, I'm good at shit.  The part where I live my life, that part, not really that great.  I showered, made Shark Bait and I breakfast, went out and set up "Cassondra's Workout World" in the barn, brushed the ponies and put fly spray on them and then from there, things really kind of went downhill.  Shark Bait always asks, "so what are we doing today?"  Like I always have to decide.  I've mentioned all the things I want to do or like to do, but we never go do any of that stuff, so I just shrug and say, "I don't know, what do you want to do?" It seems we are at a bridge that cannot be crossed.

I find myself sitting outside in the sun reading a little book on how to maximize my fat burning potential, which surprisingly cannot be achieved sitting in a Cabela's camo-patterned chair while doing nothing, and Shark Bait is in the house on his Kindle reading whatever it is he reads.  I stay out there until I start to sweat and figure it's time to come in and cool down and not burn myself.  I go upstairs and stretch out on the bed and start thinking about that damn quote again.  About how I'm "wasting" my day.  A day of my life I can't get back.  I started thinking about all the pictures on FB I have seen of family and friends and all the adventures they are having and that I want to do, but never do. Places I want to go, things I want to see, stuff I want to do.  I started thinking about how I ever survived before I had this other person in my life. When I wasn't waiting for someone else to make my life special, or fun. What did I do then?  Back before all the i-phones, Kindles, computers and social media?  What did I do?  I was with my family, or my friends, or I was outside, I was with my horses, I would go for a ride, I would wander around that farm and find something that would need to be done.  And, when I didn't feel like doing any of those things, I would go lean on a fence, as the sun went down, and I would watch the horses and the sun and dream about what my life would be like someday.  I'm pretty sure I never pictured this.  Sometimes I would sit out there in the summer and just wait for the stars to come out and just sit there and just "be."  Now, I stand in my house and see the pretty colors in the sky and think, "I wish I was somewhere watching the sunset."  Why don't I just get in my truck and go watch it?  I don't know.  I guess I wished someone would know I needed to see it and wanted to share it with me and say, "hey, let's go watch the sunset."

And, I don't remember comparing myself to anyone else or their adventures so much before.  All this begs the question, before I had FB, was everyone still out there having fun in life, but I just didn't know it?  I just didn't have it rubbed in my face every day?  Or, have I settled for a boring life with excuses of no money to do stuff and not having someone to drive me to be more than this?  Do I need someone to drive me?  I have a license, after all, I can drive myself.  And then I hear Mama Safeway say those words that will forever stick with me, "Honey, you can't wait for someone else to make your life feel special, you have to make your own life special."  I guess I don't want to have to do everything.  I've always had to do everything.  I'm tired of doing everything. But, as luck would have it, every day that I do not push past that feeling, I've traded a day of my life.  A day I should have petted a pony, rode a pony, went to the water, put my feet in, basked in the sun and then watched it set.  Doesn't matter if I am in Hawaii doing it or in the water trough, I guess, just should do it.  If I want to go on a hike, I should do that.  I mean, I'm probably not going to hike far enough to get lost, and if I do, I have enough of a fat reserve to keep me safe until someone finds me, unless a bear tries to eat me and leaves me half alive and half dead, too maimed to make it out and I lose a lot of blood and die a slow, painful death.  In that case, it's a bad idea, but I should do it anyway, but I don't.  And, then, I get sad. 

Someone might counter my feelings and say, "hey, at least you had time to relax, I had to work today."  Or, as I make my lunch in the morning before work, I think, I can't believe I'm wasting another day doing what I'm doing.  But then I picture some Pinterest quote saying how each day is a blessing that someone else was not given.  Somewhere else in this world, maybe across the street for all I know, someone doesn't have any food to make a lunch.  Someone doesn't have a job to go to, someone doesn't have a life to live, because they died the day before.  After all, when you consider those things, shouldn't I feel blessed?  Shouldn't I?  What kind of ungrateful human being am I that I am not grateful for the things that I am given?  I still have my sight, my hearing, my ability to walk, while others do not.  And, so what if I could not have a child, not everyone does.  Just ask everyone who has a child, they tell you how lucky you are, after all, with all their kids, surely they are qualified to tell you how lucky you are.  Because any one of them would give up their child in a heartbeat, right?  So, all this worrying about wasting a day I am exchanging a day of life for, what the hell is my problem? 

My problem is, part of me is a fighter and the part of me is fucking tired (as I re-read over this, when I saw "fucking tired" I read it as "fucking retarded."  Same difference, just so we are clear).  And those two parts of me cannot get along.  Why can't I just get a prescription for "anxiety" and smoke pot everyday?  Why can't I just get up and accept this person in the mirror?  Why can't I just be happy sitting in a Cabela's camo-patterned camp chair on my porch petting my dog, drinking a Mike's Hard Lemonade and paying tribute to "puff the magic dragon?"  Why do I have to be like a roller coaster inside that will not stop?  A ride that I am sure everyone wants off of. 

Anyway, speaking of rides being over, I should probably end this one. So many of you have been on this ride before, you poor, sick people, coming back for more.  For those of you I did "My Talking Pet" pet videos for and posted on FB today for you, you are welcome, because that was the freaking highlight of my day.  A day that I exchanged for one day of life.  All for the price of $2.99.  I didn't even have to pay tax on that, either.  Look at me, counting my blessings.

Amazon Now Hiring CIA Agents

I’m pretty sure I almost had a heart attack at work today. I have been battling with Amazon for two weeks now and I think we reached the point of no return.  “What did Amazon do?” you ask.  Well, it’s simple.  Valerina won a $50 gift card at work.  She wanted an Amazon card.  I went to Safeway and purchased her an Amazon card. It’s a task I’ve done many times without incident.  Well, Valerina went to use her card and she got a message saying it was “invalid.”  I take the card back to Safeway and tell them I need a new card.  They inform me it was activated on their end, so they can’t help me and that I have to take this up with Amazon.  Irritated, I leave and return to the Palace to make the call.  This is where my story of tragedy and, so far, no triumph, begins.

First off, even finding a way to contact Amazon is a joke.  It’s like a freaking scavenger hunt to find the contact information.  And, even when you get there, guess what?  You still can’t freaking call them, you have to put in what your issue is.  Unfortunately, the drop down menu does not have the option of “I want to fucking kill you” as an option.  So, I chose the next logical option, “Gift Cards.”  I won’t go into a ton of detail, because it is a pretty boring story.  However, I did opt to have an instant message chat conversation instead of calling them and speaking to them.  I messaged with some guy named Maurice that basically told me it was the store’s fault and I needed to talk to them.  Through our conversation, I let Maurice know, in a “politically correct” way that he could go sit on a unicorn horn and bounce and that he was going to help me.  Miraculously, he agreed to help and said he would even follow up with me the next day.  He said it was no problem to get the gift card activated, it should be done within 48 hours.  See, look how simple that was.

Day two, Maurice is a mother trucking, butt-licking, sponge sucking liar.  I received no follow up call AND, I got an automated email from Amazon telling me how to trouble shoot my issue.  Now, I’m mad.  This time I follow the rabbit trail to where I can get Amazon to call me and it’s some chick that I immediately hate.  She is soft-spoken, timid and I can barely understand her.  I tell her my story.  She says what Maurice says isn’t true and the card can’t be activated.  I tell her I want a supervisor, but she doesn’t have one handy, so I asked for an email address to file a complaint.  She provides it and lets me know I can send proof of purchase to them and they might be able to help me.  I then send them an email and proof of payment and a copy of the gift card.  In response, some scum-sucking, nose picking alleged human being sends me an email telling me they are super sorry for my inconvenience and someone will get back to me in 3-5 business days.  Um, no.  This is not okay.  Then, I get an automated message telling me that I need to basically go bark up a tree and here is how to trouble shoot my problem.  This message has nothing to do with my problem.  I take the auto messages and send them to the scum-sucking, nose-picking alleged human and tell him I don't appreciate this bullshit and I want an answer before 3-5 days.  That is the last I would ever hear from the scum sucker.

I waited a couple of days for an answer.  None came, as suspected.  I have now received automated email messages from a variety of dimwits.  I'm so furious at this point.  I call back in.  I'm not fucking around with YOU people.  I ask for a supervisor right off the bat.  The little beyotch transfers me to a no man's land an leaves me there.  I wait 15 agonizing minutes listening to music that can only be heard in hell.  I hang up, this is bullshit.  I call back and get some guy.  I tell him I want a supervisor and before he puts me on hold, I ask, "how long is this gonna take, because I won't be on perma-hold listening to music that makes me want to kill people!!!"  He says that it shouldn't take long, the call volumes are low and he doesn't know why I had to wait.  That bitch dumped me in some queue.  I hate her guts.  I now get transferred to a supervisor named Heather.  She is super sorry, blah, blah, blah.  She is going to follow up, blah, blah, blah.  However, after this conversation, I had at least, some faith.  She promised me a call back on Tuesday.  She can't provide me a number to contact her, but I should trust she will call me Tuesday.

Today is Tuesday.  Heather finally called, only to ask me to remind her of my issue.  Are you kidding me?  I refresh her.  She asks me to send her proof.  Oh, yeah, I already sent it.  She goes and looks at the notes. "Oh, we can't open the file you sent."  I'm pissed.  She then says I can fax it to her and asks when I will do that.  I tell her right away.  I hang up with her.  Big mistake.  I try and fax it and the fax number she gave me doesn't even work.  I'm pretty sure at this point I was borderline hysterical.  I'm going to have to call back in.

I follow the mouse trail one more time to get a call back and I get Nathan.  Ah, Nathan.  You worthless, pot-smoking, nail-biting drain on society.  Nathan informs me he is sorry.  That is the only marketable skill Nathan has.  Like, he is totally ready for marriage because that is all he says.  I tell him, "Look, I am not being mean to YOU personally.  I get this isn't your fault or problem, however, I am beyond mad."  He says, "Yeah, I can see you've talked to over 10 people about this, I'm sorry."  I ask to get connected to Heather. He says he can't connect me to her, he isn't allowed.  What? He says due to employees safety, they can't give out numbers or email addresses or transfer to each other.  I said, "Look, people hate my company and I still give out my name, voice mail info and email address.  We actually help people."  He's like, "What if a customer harasses us?  I mean, I'm not saying you would, but what if someone does?"  I lost it.  I said, "What, do you work in the friggin' CIA?  Some sort of witness protection program?  You're incognito?"  He laughs.  I'm not laughing.  I said, "So basically, you can't help me and you can't connect me with anyone who can?"  Well, he is trying to figure out what to do, he says.  He is messaging another department and they are advising him what I need to do.  It's quiet most of the time.  I assume he is one of those work at home folks sitting there in his Sponge Bob pajamas prepping his bong for his next hit and eating Doritos.  His life can't be stressful because he doesn't DO anything.  I'm growing impatient.  I said, "You can't really tell me you can't just send Heather an email and give her the message  that I can't fax her.  It makes no sense that you are not allowed to talk to each other."  He insists that no, he cannot.  I continue, "It must be freaking fantastic to have your job and have zero accountability.  You aren't allowed to talk to each other, you aren't allowed to help your customers, you have the best friggin' job, ever.  It sounds MAGICAL! I think I am going to apply for your stress free job!!!"  Nathan is unaffected.  He has to be stoned.  I look in the little mirror on my desk that says, "smile!"  My face and neck are red.  I'm ready to explode.  I know my conversation can be heard 3-4 rows over in every direction.  Cross Fit is safe in his office and has sprinted past me once or twice.  He's not getting involved.  More silence.  Finally, he tells me that the person that he was  getting help from has just closed out the chat.  I said, "Are you kidding me?  The ONE person you are allowed to talk to in the whole company just abandoned you with me.  No resolution, no answers, no hope, no suggestions....NOTHING!  And he just left you?! That is awesome, again, your company is beyond amazing."  Nathan is sorry.  He told me so.  I said, "So now what, Nathan?  Now, what do I do? Start over?  What?"  Nathan doesn't know because the one guy that was allowed to talk to him may have been killed for talking to him.  I mean, I think that is how the CIA works.  If you learn too much or talk to the wrong people, you have to die.  I'm sure of it. It's the Amazon way.  Nathan will be next.  Just like the Bourne Identity, he will wake up and not remember who he is and people will come to kill him.  I hope he has been working out in between getting stoned and eating all those Doritos.

I make one last attempt at solving this dilemma, "Nathan, I need to go over your head and the escalation team's head.  I need to know who I can talk to, this is nuts."  He informs me that there is no one I can talk to that can help me, no one will help me. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, my left arm had pain shooting down it, my face was entirely fire engine red.  I said, "Hold it, hold it...did you just tell me that there isn't anyone in your company that is going to help me?  Is that what you just said?  Did you just say it didn't matter how far I go, that NO ONE will help me?"  He said, "...well, they aren't going to be able to do anything for you, you know, they'll have to reach out to the same departments I did...."  I was done.  D.O.N.E.  Next to Disneyland, Nathan works at the most magical place on earth where you don't have to do shit all day and you get to wear your Sponge Bob pajamas.  Fuck you, Nathan.

I hung up on him as he was telling me he was sorry again.  I ran over to Valerina, "Feel my cheeks, FEEL THEM!!!!  I am burning up because of fucking AMAZON!!! I'm  going to have a heart attack!"  She told me I needed to calm down.  NO.  I need to taste Nathan's blood.  I returned to my area.  Cross Fit said, "You need to email Bezos."  "Who's Bezos?"  I asked him.  Turns out he is the CEO of Amazon.  Yes, that is what I needed to do.  I Googled his picture and pulled it up on my right hand screen and then pulled up a new email on my left hand screen.  That guy looked like he had one crazy eye, but that crazy eye was no match for my crazy everything.  I cleared my calendar to write this email and set in.  I would just get to the point.  No, he needed to suffer as I had suffered.  His CIA agents were crafty, but I am bitter and that out-runs crafty any day of the week.

Thirty minutes later, I was satisfied I had recounted every detail.  I had told him about his secret squirrel workforce and the smoke and mirrors and the lies and broken promises.  I laid it all out on the line. It read like War and Peace.  It was everything I needed it to be. It was difficult to have to remain professional when I wanted to eat him for lunch, but I think I did, minus a couple digressions into "magical territory" and CIA references.  I told him his company was such a magical place to work that I, too, would apply for a position there so that I, too, could have zero accountability in life.  And just as I was ready to send it, I get an automated email message from someone allegedly named Tweeny F. that is going to get back with me in 1-2 business days to discuss this matter.  Tweeny?  Really?  I should now, all the sudden, have confidence in someone named Tweeny?  I added a "P.S." to my letter informing Mr. Bezos that Agent Tweeny was on the case, but that I wouldn't hold my breath for her resolution and expected a response from him.  I clicked "send" and just like that, my face returned to it's normal color, I shut my systems down and headed home.

I need a Mike's Hard Lemonade.  STAT.

Oh, by the way, sorry, I know I said I would not give you all the details, but I can't help it....you know how I am.

** Update**
The following day I received an email from the Executive Customer Relations department.  Problem is now resolved. No accountability has been taken for my shitty experience.

Feeling Introspective - Picture Journey

Had the day off yesterday.  Luckily, no real demands on my time.  I was just checking Facebook and doing the normal check-in with social media and I ended up on this surgery support group page that I am a member of.  It's always a challenge for me to see and hear other people's success stories about how they are six months out and down a ton of weight, or they are a year out and have already lost 120 pounds and the list goes on.  There are people, like me, that struggle and people are very supportive and encouraging to them, which is nice, but I still battle the inner voice.  Sometimes I participate in the group and add a comment here and there, but still follow the page with pain in my heart knowing that I could be doing a lot better if I had my head on straight.  It's a constant struggle.  One gal had posted a picture of herself in a sexy bra and underwear.  I was like, wow, that is one helluva great story, I wish I had something like that to share.  I did take a picture of myself in a sports bra and underwear the day of my surgery so that I would be able to someday compare and be amazed.  Trust me when I say,  I'm not ready to amaze anyone yet. 

I continued to read through that support page and one of the comments on there really affected me.  Someone asked if anyone that had the surgery had regrets.  One woman commented that she did not have any and that likely, the person asking the question would not get any negative feedback, because those that do have regrets have addiction issues and have faded away and were no longer "engaged" in the process.  I was instantly irritated by that remark.  Partially because I identify with it in the sense that I am not as engaged as I should be and I do still struggle with food choices, but I do not regret having the surgery.  I regret that I could not do it on my own without the surgery.  I regret letting myself get as heavy as I did.  I regret not doing something sooner.  But, for whatever reason, things happened in the time they happened and this is the journey I am meant to go on...I guess.  As The Rug Doctor says, "You are right where you are meant to be." And so, here I am still fighting and not giving up...just moving slowly.  I will do this, I just don't know how long it will take.

After reading some more and feeling a little bad about myself for not being further in the process, I decided I needed to really take a look at my journey.  So, I started looking at all my old pictures and really looking at my face and my body.  I found the picture I took of myself in my underwear the day before surgery.  My God.  I was so huge.  I could not even believe Shark Bait ever had sex with that body.  I just stared at that person.  That person knew she was fat, she just didn't see how fat she had become.  You just look in the mirror everyday and see this person.  I still see that person when I look in the mirror, but I have to say, after going through all these pictures, maybe I am starting to see someone different.  I spent all day putting these pictures into a PowerPoint presentation to document the journey.  I spent all day on it.  When Shark Bait got home from work, I made him take a picture of me in my bra and underwear and then some pics with me clothed.  I loaded the pictures on the computer and stared at them.  I have changed.  I will admit, I have changed.  The voice in my head still says, "you have not changed enough," but it is willing to concede that there is change.  And that, is what we call progress.

I am sharing some of the pictures with you below.  And, I will spare you the underwear pictures.  Even though they are not dirty or indecent, it might traumatize my co-workers that see me every day.  You can't un-see some things.  I will say, ironically, I am not ashamed of them.  I mean, I am totally grossed out and cannot believe I looked like that, but I am not ashamed to show them to you.  I am not that fat girl in those pictures on the outside, I am an athlete on the inside and I will find my way to the outside.  It will just take time.

The early years. In that picture in 1990, I thought I was so fat.  I would give anything to weigh that now.

This girl, this woman, so unhappy.

Pictures right after surgery on top, after all the complications cleared up and below, how I am today.

The progression has lead to me enjoying my horses again, which is the BIGGEST gift I could ask for.

In 2013, life started to get better, started to feel better about me and started to enjoy life a little.

2014 has been slow progress, but progress is still there.  Who knew this face could do short hair?

 

So, this is my journey so far.  Far from over, but something I need to be proud of.  I am proud of.  It's never enough, the voices in my head always tell me, but I'm trying to shut that bitch up.  And, if any of you are dying to see the underwear pictures, hey, I'll show em to you. LOL.

Thanks for being part of my journey.  Love to all!