At Least I Have My Health Nevermind.

You know how that silly red-haired orphan once said, "The sun will come out tomorrow?"

I wonder how she knew that. Because I don't see my sun shining. I see my mother calling me to tell me I need to get checked out for Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM), because she found out today she has it. That means I have a 50/50 chance of having it. Mom said basically, it will look like I'm having a heart attack, but I'm not. So if something happens they'll rip my chest open while I'm dying of something else.

Sounds like a great way to die.

Drink, but Not To Much

Ever since that night(The night that caused me to become TDG) I’ve been a practicing two drink girl. My first night out I had a midori sour and a long island iced tea. I think my later teenage years was when I had the biggest tolerance for alcohol.

I really had very few nights of big drinking…but they were all fun. My favorite was once a year, when we had the famous Easter Egg Stuffing Night. I lived in one of those “old money” communities where the homeowners association actually used the dues to do fun things for the community. So a bunch of the women would go over to one house and stuff the plastic Easter eggs with candy, and little pieces of paper with a number, so you could win a bigger prize.

We started out the night with a fantastic dinner, and then started stuffing…with a glass of wine of course! My mom and I would take turns, every year one of us would be the designated driver, and we would stuff those Easter eggs and have the best time ever.

Then the first banquet dinner in college I knew I was going to get wasted…they weren’t going to card at the bar…I was going to get drunk on campus at my University! I was about 3 and ½ glasses of wine in when they called my name. I had won a scholarship, and I had to go up and accept it. I remember thinking “Am I naked? Because in this dream I’m usually naked!” That didn’t stop me from going to the after party and having my first Smirnoff Ice. Oooh, and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Good stuff, all.

I’ve been thinking a lot about drinking lately. I never really got to try anything new, because they are too expensive. It makes me sad when I think I might never have a Sex on the Beach, or ever even know if a Screaming Orgasm really is a drink. But I love my old standbys; the cheap white zin and white merlot, toasted almond, and my favorite margarita. I keep thinking when I get home I’m going to make myself a drink…that I deserve a drink. Then I get home and forget about it. I haven’t had a drink in a long time…does that still make me an alcoholic? Should I join AAA (Almost Alcoholics Anonymous)?

Emotionally Disconnected

When we were babies, our emotions were out there on our sleeves. We had happy and upset and not a whole lot in-between. Skip to about five years old, and we are starting to understand the more complex nature of things. Maybe a pet has already died, or someone had hurt our feelings. Our parents/guardians have to now make a decision; how do you tell us little kids how to deal with our emotions.

If someone is making fun of you, you A) Ignore them, B) Make fun of them back, or C) Something else. The result is another emotion. If that emotion is good, then we have found our coping mechanism.

When/How do they show us how to repress our emotion? What makes a lover and a fighter? Why do I get upset when people I’m meeting up with are late, and serial killers feel no remorse for the lives they have taken? Why do I laugh when a guy is talking about how hot Morgan Fairchild was (naked) onstage in The Graduate, and someone else loses it and yells at them about how offensive it is?

As we grow older, we call it being “mature” and “immature.” We can no longer throw a fit because we didn’t get what we want. Different things have more of an impact. As Americans we like things wrapped up; we like our ending. Nothing ever really dies in our minds if there isn’t a clear-cut ending. We have no control of what upsets us and what doesn’t.

So why do people always tell us to get over it? Why are we constantly trying to control our emotions, and most of the time we lose control? Sometimes life is so hard, and our emotions just take over…sometimes we are so upset that we shut down. We start laughing because we are tired of crying…or we just plain stop caring. We cared so much for so long, that we just can’t care anymore. Where did those emotions go?

Where do emotions go when they are suppressed?

Creepy Businessmen and How to Bring Them Down

he Ask TDG Marathon Continues with a question from LisaB:

“Why do major creeps, (who are nasty to everyone,) do great in their careers? I NEVER understood that one!”

Mainly, because assholes don’t care. We normal people won’t step on people in order to climb the corporate ladder; they will. They also will take more risks because they don’t have as much to lose. You go for the jugular on a particular project, you might win a promotion…of course, now your entire office hates you because you stole their ideas and suck up to the boss. Who wants that? Well, assholes do.

And, of course, how do you think upper management got there? By being assholes, of course! That is why your manager, or CEO, is such a jerk!

Speaking of Assholes that make us crazy, Laughing Frog asks “What day/date/time will I go postal and kill my CEO for habitually robbing me of nights and weekends as if it’s his birthright?”

My dear LF, the answer is simple. You will quit when you get thisclose to doing it. Of course, in your revenge fantasy it will be tomorrow.

You wake up, and it hits you: Today is your day. He is going to pay…His birthright is no longer your misery. You put on just a little more eyeliner on today, making yourself look fierce. Tyra would be proud.

The morning commute seems to zoom by with ease, and before you know it you are standing at the door to his office. You hesitate, wondering if you should kick it in or just stroll through it without a care in the world. You compromise and swing it open so it knocks into the wall, making his neck snap up from his game of spider solitaire.

You start talking. It doesn’t matter what you’re saying, all that matters is the look on his face. It goes from disbelief and anger to embarrassment and humiliation. He begs you to keep this to yourself, and you tell him there’s no need. Everyone knows. You don’t even have to look behind you to know the rest of the office is behind you, staring him down. He runs out of the office, never to be seen again.

A letter from his lawyers a few weeks later confirm that he has signed over his company to you. You celebrate in the office with the kind of cake the CEO would never allow because he was allergic to it. Life is good. You killed his spirit, and that’s better than his life any day!

Pretty Pictures and Disappearing Products

HankLNU asks:

“What I want to know is, where did you get that picture for your profile? Everytime I look for a picture to match what idea I’m thinking, I end up with a crappy one. The one you have is awesome. How’d you find it?”

I wish I could say I found my profile picture myself. It just happened to fit my TDG status. My Lover Boy happened to find it when he was looking up a recipe on Wikipedia. Who knew, right?

Usually though, if I find a cool picture, I’ll center my blog entry around it. It’s a lot easier than blogging, then finding a picture. I’ve found. But you know who’s best at finding great pictures to go with her posts? WordWhiz…who happens to be up next!

“Why do the best products invented for use by women always end up being pulled from the shelves?”

Because Corporate America loves to make women change their whole lifestyle every few years. Think about how many favorite perfumes we’ve had….why did we change what our favorite was? Because they stopped making it.

Do you remember Japanese Washing Grains from The Body Shop? Ginger Lilly scent from The Healing Garden? That beautiful strawberry blond hair dye by Clariol Hydrience? I do….they are my most missed products. Then there was that birth control pill. My boobs were huge; my zits were a distance memory. The best looking six months of my life were on that pill until they dis-continued it. I feel your pain WordWhiz.

Now, why does Corporate America do this to just women? I mean, come on, they still have Brell Shaving Cream. I think that is the shaving cream the cavemen first used.

Sadly, this goes back to an earlier post about men. They just don’t care. Why bother changing up their shaving soap on them, they’ll just get something cheaper. But women, we’ll go to lengths to find something that was the exact same thing as that one product we had….that beautiful product that makes everything right in the world. And we’ll pay more. That is the only reason they do it to us instead of them.


Tomorrow, Why Creeps have Great Careers. (Leave your question as a comment)