So. Can I order my handmaid’s uniform on Amazon?


June 24, 2022 :: 6:41 PM

thought about making this my FB profile pic, but nobody would get it except you, dear reader

The last time I couldn’t look away from the computer at work, the last time I cried at my desk, was January 6th.

I had hoped those days were behind me… but nope.

Welcome to Trump’s America, where the damage done is long lasting and probably won’t be repaired in my lifetime.

Спи собі сама


June 11, 2022 :: 8:01 PM

fuck, I love Polish…

It’s the very last RTI racery event and I have bitten off more than I can chew… but I always do.

I took yesterday and Monday off - I needed some time to myself and I’m not that busy at work. Plus, it’s the first four days of The Final Battle and I figured that I would cap the first four days.

I had the bright Idea that I would run a mile for every day that Russian has been in Ukraine and donate $1 for each mile. (117 by the end of the event.) I had it planned out perfectly: Four caps would put me at 60 days. I could then cap the final weekend as well, which would push me to 90 before I ran a single mile on a workday.

Well.

I capped yesterday and today… I have not felt like a functional human at all.

I bite my nails. I always have. All the way down to the quick and sometimes a little extra. When I’m super stressed, I always manage to rip the entire nail off one (if not both) of my pinkies.

I saw a hypnotist. I’ve talked about it in therapy. I’ve worn false ones.

And I even bought this shit that was practically guaranteed to keep my fingers out of my mouth.  (Oh. My. God. It was absolutely disgusting… But. It didn’t work.)

Several years ago, I had a great epiphany: I self-harm.

Still haven’t figured out how to get people to understand why I consider it self-harm, but the end result is the same.

Still haven’t figured out how to stop it either.

(Seriously! I saw a fucking hypnotist, I was so desperate to stop doing it. Apparently, I’m so fucked up that they couldn’t figure out a way to help.)

So anyhoo…

In 47 years on this earth, I have never seriously hurt myself. (The pain of a missing fingernail dissipates rather quickly when you’re used to it.)

Well, Thursday night I wound up in Urgent Care.

Managed to rip off my thumbnail and get an infection.

My thumb was swollen to twice it’s normal size and there was a little spot that had turned green.

It was the first time I’d ever been afraid of what I was capable of.

I suppose, in it’s own way, it’s not that much different from a blade slipping and cutting a vein or something.

Of course… in the car Friday morning on the way to the grocery store, I managed to chew off the remaining nails on that hand.

(All that to say I didn’t get in a cap today because I had a bad reaction to the antibiotic they prescribed me.)

This has been on repeat today… I’m not sure why, but it fits my mood perfectly.

 

 

І буду собі в інтернеті...дивитись на голих бабів!


June 04, 2022 :: 7:53 PM

1985. It took 7 years before she stopped drinking for good. *ahem*

Back in December, I talked about the Boxes of Doom!

Well. I’ve spent way too much quality weekend time going through those in that blog post and some others.

We’re painting the room we call the Person Cave and we needed to figure out a way to maximise the closet space. Last weekend, he painted the closet white and installed shelves. I’ve been trying to reorganise 40+ years of crap.

I suppose it goes without saying that I’ve spent most of the last two weekends crying.

But… I’ve actually thrown away a lot of memorabilia. Like my parent’s honeymoon photos, my mother’s UCONN scrapbook, their wedding album, my baby book. One of my rules was that I would only keep it if it didn’t piss me off to look at it. So. No pictures of people I didn’t know. No pictures of places I’ve never been. No pictures of people who are dead to me. I kept a bunch of photos of my parents, back when they were young and in love, but only because my father looked so happy in them. The one thing he kept saying during our last conversation was that he wished I knew the woman he married. The woman she used to be. I look at those pictures and I see a strange woman laughing with my father and smiling at him. The only reason I know who she is is because I look like her, and well… historical context. I mean, as far as I know, my father only married once. And if it’s not my mother in those photos than the people I’ve always thought of as my grandparents are… not.

It’s all a bit of a head fuck, to be honest.

Today’s unexpected memory landmine was a bunch of stuff from the UCONN Mens’ Ice Hockey coach, Coach Marshall. He was such a good guy and it showed in the post it notes stuck to every single ticket he left at the door for me, the random letters he’d send me as part of the fundraising bullshit he had to do, the letter of recommendation he wrote for me.  And at some point, past me decided it would be a good idea to keep the booklet from his memorial service with all that. Fuck. I’m crying just thinking about all of it. When it came to getting a job in hockey, he was my number one cheerleader. I owe that man so much. And he’s gone.

Yeah.

So… it’s been a bit of a tough day for me.

Let’s end this on a happy note, yeah?

 

This may very well be my favourite lyric of any song ever (well, as of right now):

Нині не льотна погода
Сказала мені, шоби я
Літав собі голий по хаті,
Показував дулі з вікна.
На мене багато хто скаже,
Шо я тіпа з боку смішний,
А той, хто багато говорить,
По-моєму трохи дурний.

Roughly translates to: The weather is bad today. I’m walking around the house naked, showing my bits from the window. People say I look funny, but I think people who talk too much are dumb.

Seeing how it’s been fucking raining since Thursday, I thought it fitting.

#UntilTheVeryEnd… also, #FUCKWARNERBROTHERS


May 21, 2022 :: 12:49 PM

I watch too many horror movies and my husband is The Chicken is Boba Fett. There. That’s a thing you know now about my private life.

I’m done.

Just when I thought I couldn’t be any less motivated to run…

RTI just settled their lawsuit with Warner Brothers, which loosely translates to WB just killed a group that is filled with people who love their intellectual property so much that they band together under the name and use their combined energy to do #somuchgood.

Yeah.

The Potterhead Running Club is closing up shop.

And because the PHRC basically funds all the other RTI clubs, Whovian and Fandom are closing down as well. They hope to keep the FRC Fan Domain group active, but no more medals. No more Racery events. Some of the PHRC groups (like Book Club, Transfiguration, etc.) are spinning off and will continue to operate under different names with volunteers to keep them alive.

But it won’t be the same.

The Tower has always felt like home to me… but it’s lost its magic. Literally.

There’s no other way to put it.

I’m not OK with this.

Seriously.

I’ve been crying since the news broke.

I’ve needed the consistency and the friendship and the sense of family the clubs were filled with.

And now it’s going away.

And I don’t know what to do with myself.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

I joke all the time that I’m not all that great at the social part of social media.

But let’s call it what it is: I collect people and then I barely interact with them.  That’s why I have like 75 or 80 Facebook friends and most of my newsfeed is either (Ukrainian) bands or RTI groups. Anything more is overwhelming.

Shit, I haven’t spoken to my best friend, my little brother from another mother for two years now.

I’m just not good at it.

I keep coming back to the therapist that asked me why I don’t let people get close. Why I don’t let them help me through the Dark Days and The Ick.

I hate me during those times. I definitely don’t want to subject people I care about to that… which is why I am SO FUCKING HAPPY that my husband has been able to tolerate it.

We’ve been together since 1998 and got married in 2002. He’s a fucking saint.

A. FUCKING. SAINT.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

We’re doing a Stand with, or Support, Ukraine 5k locally tomorrow (whatever, I can’t remember the name). Proceeds are going to the Ukrainian Red Cross. I know they’re having problems selling the race, so who knows how much is actually going to Ukraine, but it’s still… something.

My tryzub sticker is on my car. We went shopping for shelving today and managed to fit it in the car. (I HAVE A TRUNK AGAIN! I might have started jumping up and down in the parking lot screaming my joy… have I mentioned my husband is a saint? Yup.) My Deathly Hallows is also on my car.

The only thing I’m missing are my race stickers. I can’t decide if I want to put them on now and add the marathon after, or do all four after and see if I can find a Dopey sticker.

I guess we’ll see…

 

Я знаю, все буду добре


May 08, 2022 :: 7:10 PM

welcome home, subie #4

When we moved to South Florida, I traded in my Forester because it didn’t perform well on the Florida roads. If the AC was on, the car struggled to go over 60. Average speed on the Sawgrass, the road I travel the most? 80+.

I traded it for a Mini Cooper. At first, I was excited because it was something new, and it was so fucking quick and fun to drive. But. As the years went on, the joy I found in the car started to wane.

It’s over engineered. (Thanks, BMW!)

It’s expensive to maintain. (Thanks, German manufacturers! Seriously. The Jetta’s maintenance was stupid expensive, too.)

It’s teeny tiny. (When the Mini is alongside a semi, and that driver decides to change lanes? Good thing the Mini has some oomph.)

It wasn’t until around Thanksgiving that I knew the car was getting traded in sooner rather than later. Given that sticks are so hard to find, I hadn’t planned on trading the car in at all.

But.

I decided to tell the The Hubby of Wonder that I was done with Mini and he told me that he had started to look at Subarus again.

COVID created supply problems, be damned!

The Gee Household was getting back into Subarus!

We ordered our cars in January. (Stick shift, plus supply chain issues, blah blah blah…)

I got mine today.

His won’t get here until June.

It’s weird being in a large car again and there definitely aren’t as many bells and whistles as the Mini had, but it feels like home.

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