So Instead I Write THIS
Newest from NetFlix:
SECRETARY: Ha. LOVED IT. MUST HAVE IT. MUST NEVER LET HUB-UNIT WATCH.
MAY: I have a thing about eye injuries. Anything having to do with anything happening to an eye, and I vomit. So what was I thinking when I rented a movie about an anti-social young oddball who has a LAZY EYE?!?!? ICK. Why must it always be about the EYE?
HAPPINESS OF THE KATAKURIS: SO funny. If you can get past the whole foreign movie thing, I would suggest renting it. It's a japanese horror/musical/comedy, kind of like it you took a bad MTV Asia video and threw it in a mixer with The Sound of Music and Psycho, but took some of the scary out.
Maybe this netflix is a blessing in disguise. I am, after, the Queen of Pop Culture Knowledge, after all, and this is by FAR broadening my scope. I now have infinite juiciness at my fingertips. Woo.
Tomorrow, sometime, I actually have a trivia question. For those that want to get involved, it's gonna be a toughie. And I myself don't have the answer. Which I guess makes it a 'help me I'm a dork' question as opposed to trivia, but whatever.
Christ Jesus am I glad I'm feeling better.

Anatomy of a Breakdown
It's 6:05 AM, and I was going to write a play-by-play schematic of my mental capacity crumbling, but I've finally got it mostly under control. Mostly. For the most part.
I was going to talk about how my skin was tingling and attempting almost successfully to crawl OFF my body. I was going to try and discuss EXACTLY how suddenly unbelieveably claustrophobic I felt sandwiched between the hub-unit and one cat. ONE CAT. I was going to describe how the storm that has dominated the island for two days has kept me awake for the same amount of time because everytime I hear the smashings and crashings outside my window I am bombarded with images of my apartment collapsing and everyone dying in the wreck but me.
Being tired doesn't help. My paranoia is at an all time high at this point, and I refuse to get out of bed most days, or leave the bedroom. SOmething about the lack of sunlight and sleep that pushes me off the edge.
The hub-unit has done his best, but he was fraying at the edges and finally had to sleep. I understand. I miss sleep.
But no, I spent the last hour cruising the WWW in search of people less fortunate than I, and I've calmed down quite a bit. The rain has stopped, and I can no longer hear the wind. I'm glad, because I REALLY didn't want to have to go in to the emergency room for a freak-out.

New Baby Picture

I swear to god that will be the last one. I SWEAR.

The Rodent Problem Increases...

How about HIM for a new Rantsville Apartments Mascot?

And One More Before I Retire....
Mood:  bright
NEW YORK MINUTE- BLEAH.
MATCHSTICK MEN- I wanted to KILL the little girl. Spent the whole movie thinking, "Gee, this could be a GREAT movie if it weren't for the drama little teenager". Seriously. Wanted to KILL her. I hate teenage girls because I was one once. I know the drama.
LOST IN TRANSLATION- SLOOOOOOOOOOW. I guess I'm just a fucking philistine, because I didn't get it. The whole japan thing was cool though.
BAD BOYS II- Blow stuff up. UNGAWA! Actually, it was pretty good. A little unnecessarily icky in parts, but that's just me.
MONSTER- I was hoping that she was a little less sympathetic, but she was still fucked in the head. And WOW was she ugly. Did NOT need to see ugly lesbian sex. Really didn't. Other than that though.
I don't know why I can't seem to get behind any movies lately. I want to see one that really sticks in my head, but I fear that there will NEVER be another Donnie Darko.
Onward to naptime!

Why the Military is Like Survivor
1. OUTWIT- Everyone plays favorites. You have to suck ass in order to get anywhere, or to keep any position you may have been awarded. A little lube in the military is always appreciated.
2. OUTPLAY- He who gets drunkest with his buddies has the best stories to tell withint legal parameters, and then see #1.
3. OUTLAST- The longer you stay at any one given duty station, the better your chances at winning someone higher up over to your side.

The only reason I'm snarking is because the hub-unit got knocked out of his Branch LPO job because someone was playing favorites, an alliance if you will. It's fucking ridiculous.
And the ony reason I'm snarking about THAT is because he gets bumped down to shift supervisor, and the only shift that needs a superviosr is NIGHTS. That's the shift that starts at 5 PM and goes until 3 AM. Guess whose schedule that's gonna fuck up?
This could be a rough week.
And welcome to V, whose second posting has earned her a middle unit with a king-sized balcony. Not many of those left, you know.

Baby Robbie
Mood:  bright
Here he is!

Isn't he CUTE? He's all squishy and full of hair! I want to squeeze him and make boodgie-boodgie sounds! And believe me when I say no bullshit he looks JUST like his daddy. Just.
Next entry.

A New Addition to my Extended Family
Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: "My Boy Lollipop", Lulu
The BBF had her baby!
Robert Lawrence David Morrow just popped into the world about two hours ago, and I just got the phone call about ten minutes ago. & pounds, 10 ounces, and 21 inches long.
I'm an Auntie again! Yippee!
That's about it for today. I was going to bitch about how SERIOUSLY broke we suddenly are, but fuck it. I have phone calls to make.

So Many Entries That Failed to Make it to the Big Screen
Mood:  bright
Now Playing: A cacaphony of mewling kitties
For all of you lovely folks that write comments here, I swear to god I am not ignoring you. I read all of your blogs every day, but you're far more inteligent than me and I just don't have the mental capacity to write anything of worth on your sites. Plus, you have better teeth and fresher breath. Shinier hair, too.
Last night, the husband and I had one of those 'talks' again, about serious stuff. This is hard, especially about this particular topic we were discussing, because of one simple thing:
The Hub-unit doesn't know women.
Well, he knows women, but only in the strict biblical sense. At 35 years old, before me he'd never had a girlfriend stay over for a weekend. Or live with him. Or ANYTHING. Basically, he's never woken up to girl things, and he's never been told about girl things. For example, he actually had no clue as to how a girl's period works. The best analogy I could come up with was a fuel pump. He got it. I think.
He also doesn't understand anything that happens in the morning. He doesn't understand weight issues or panic attacks about clothing fitting, he doesn't get the whole baby thing, you name it and he's totally incompetent. It's not that he's stupid or anything, it's just that with all his priors he's never taken the time to ask about chick-related stuff.
Take last night. He was mentioning that this whole cervical bullshit I'm going through right now was probably something simple. I had to tell him that when something happens with a girl's insides, it's NEVER simple. I tried to explain endometriosis to him, and when I got to the point about hysterectomy, he kinda wigged. It probably wouldn't happen, but all the options had to be looked at....
I love my husband, but he just doesn't get it.
I think I'll just get him a book, because I can't explain stuff that I can barely understand myself.

Triple Digits
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: "Don't Call Me Baby", Madison Avenue
It's stopped raining, and while the sun has yet to make an appearance, I feel better. Not crazy, running around yapping with the thought process of Amalah's dog better, but slightly more up than the last few days. Thank GAWD. I suppose I should summarize the finer points of the last few days:
1. Started leaking scabs. SCABS. The vomit factor was high and in rare form yesterday.
2. Once again the hub-unit IS trying, but I had to tell him to shut the fuck up. He didn't mean to sound like a jackass, but nevertheless. I was semi-weepy about my current cervical situation because of my irrational fear of doctors, and he just did the hair-stroking thing that calms me so much and just before I finally fall back asleep he says "It's okay baby, it's just all a part of being a woman."
?!?!?!? Thanks, mom. Now get the fuck out of my husband.
I had to tell him to shut up. "It's all just a part of being a woman' my ASS. That's the LAST thing I expected to hear from him. That's the last thing I WANTED to hear from him.
3. Augustus has once again graced us with his presence. Filthy, stinking, and WET, but his Nibs is back. We'll be getting him microchipped posthaste. Of course, he came home in the middle of the day, and I was so deliriously grateful that I forgot to call the hub-unit, which was bad because he spent the whole day on the phone with animal control and the vet looking for him, not to mention leaving work a half an hour early so he could drive around the block like thrity times looking for the little assmonkey.
That's about it. Thanks everyone for the kind words and major back-rubbing I got when I needed it most. Sometimes, a stranger's support can mean even more than usual.
And as this is my 100th post, I was going to drop yet ANOTHER personal story, especially since our web sister Dooce is having such a rough time, but I think that for now I will let this ride so I can go get a cup of coffee or maybe go back to sleep.
And remember something that I myself have forgotten the last couple of days...
"If not today, then tomorrow will be the best day ever."