He Loved His Mother (A Little TOO Much)

     I don't know what got me thinking of an old boyfriend and his relationship with his mother.  I was around 22 years old and he was a couple years younger.  I never knew someone who loved his mother as much as he did.  I like to say an Uncomfortable Love....  I was working full time because I had already graduated college.  My boyfriend was still in college at the time.  I would work all day then hit the gym for a late high impact aerobics class.  I would then head to my apartment, wait anxiously for my sweartheat to call, tell me he had finshed stuydying, and was ready for me to come over.  One particular night I drove to his apartment and let my self in.  As I was walking to his bedroom I could hear giggling, laughter, and love chatter.  I stopped a few feet from the bedroom door and listened.  He didn't know I had come in.  I thought to myself, "That Son of  A Bitch is Cheating on Me!!!".  I decided to confront him about his love chatter when he looked up and smiled, hung up the phone, and said, "That was my mom, she's so funny".  Okay to say I was uncomfortable was an understatement.  The story goes is that his mother had him when she was 18.  Now that he was 20 that made his his mom only 38.  Wow, now that I'm about to turn 50, that sounds mighty young.  I got to meet his 38 year old mom a few weeks later when he invited me to his hometown.  Oh, wait before that his mommy decided to visit college boy and bring him homemade cookies.  Sounds innocent right?  Well when my boyfriend told me the story he had gleam in his eyes and would giggle about how his mother ate half the cookies on the way to see him.  He would giggle then laugh, giggle then laugh as he told me the story. Again the way he told me the story made me so uncomfortable.  He often told me how pretty his mom was and how much he admired her.  One weeken he decides to bring me to his hometown.  I was beyond nervous.  We drive the hour to his hometown and he's giddy with excitement.  Who gets giddy when they visit there parents?  His parents were divorced so we were going to see his pretty mommy and In The Way stepdad.  I finally meet pretty mom.  She had a plaid shirt on as I recall and to tell you the truth she didn't look like the high power executive that he had described.  After dinner we headed to his old bedroom.  We were sitting on the floor when his moma plops herself on the bed and said, "Son I have your special treat......Frozen Snickers!!!!".....  She then percedes to feed him with her fingers....one bite for lover boy, one bite for mommy.....one bite for lover boy, one bite for mommy....  Oh, Hell No, I can't believe what I am seeing.  I should have call for a Taxi  right then and there.  Don't worry I didn't have to seek therapy because lover boy broke up with me 2 weeks later.  I guess I didn't measure up to his pretty hysterical mommy... The End~More Like Godsend~

My Dad, Felix Unger Might Be Slightly Negative!

Slightly Negative?....Such an understatement.  I just finished watching the documentary Halston where Liza Minnelli talked a lot about her best friend Halston.  Watching Liza Minnelli got me thinking of Judy Garland.  I was 6 years old watching Wizard of Foz for the 30th time.  I'm guessing on the one time of the year that the Wizard of Foz came on.  I called it Wizard of Foz until I was about 15 years old.  I must have never looked at the beginning, maybe I was in the kitchen getting a cardboard moonpie and some milk from the kitchen.   My Dad, Felix Unger wouldn't sit down in living room and watch the Wizard Of Foz again.  No, he would peer his head through the living room door and say, "You know Dorothy killed herself because she was an alcoholic"....Can you image being 6 years old and you know your beloved Dorothy killed herself.  Then my dad, Felix Unger would further say, "Well she was born right around your grandmother's time, she didn't kill herself at 16, she was much older".  There was no Googling her name to get the entire story.  Now I know she died around 47 years of age, but in my 6 year old mind, she was 16.  Finding out the the Wizard Of Foz was a DREAM shattered me as much as when I found out there was no Santa Claus.  I will say I TOTALLY Lack Common Sense.   I lacked Common Sense when I was 6, and I still lack Common Sense at almost 50.  I Over-Think EVERYTHING.  I live in the Past or the Future.  I never live in the Present.  I make my life Harder than it Has to Be.  I Struggle with Life Everyday.  My Bi Polar Depression gets worse with each day.  I think,  "I'm gunna Die A Nobody, Never Making My Mark Here On This Earth, Just A Plain Old Lady With Ugly Sensible Shoes, Ugly Thick Glasses, Ugly Barely There Grey Hair, Frumpy And Smelly Like Moth Balls, Blue Veins Popping Out My Hands and Black Bruising all over my Body because a Simple Butterfly Tap Bruised Me Motherf@#ker and All My Quilts Will Be Rotting In Someone's Attic, I Get Pissed Just Thinking Of This"....Someone keep those words for my epitaph.

My Black Pleather Boots!

I had to go see my Psychiatrist yesterday, and as usual I dressed to the nines.  It would have been the tens if I had real leather boots.  I never want to look like a patient.  I don't care what doctor I'm going to, you will never see me in sweat pants.  So yesterday I had a short black skirt, black stockings, my long black boot, and a cute blouse.  I had a ring bling on almost every finger, earrings, braclets on both arms and something in my hair.  "Looking Good and Smelling Good", I thought.  As I was waiting for my appointment, this girl came storming in smoking a cigarrette and pacing the lobby.  She sits down, I tell her hi, and of course I ask what medications she takes?  She was glad to ratttle off her pills, Lithium, Depakote, Trazodone, Prozac, and about 10 others I didn't recognize.  Then she shows me her arms, and told me she was a cutter.  She also said she pounds her fist at her head because that's what was done to her growing up. The she said most of her boyfriends were beaters too, but her current boyfriend was not, so that is why she has hits herself in the head.  Not only was she Bi Polar like me, she had Dissocoiative Disorder.  "Wow, I seem so normal compared to her", I thought.  It was my turn to see the Psychiatrist, I was led to the back.  I walked into my Psychiatrist's office with my head held high for awhile, then it slowly fell as I decribed my depression.  He's looking at me for clues.  I look very "put together" for being depressed.  I left his office with a new perscription for Wellbutrin.  I bring all my perscriptions to CVS thinking they thinking, "damn she takes a lot of pills".  I get home, past by a full lenght mirror, and glance at my boots.  The tips of my boots, the size of quarters are chipped off to reveal WHITE PLASTIC. Here I am, thinking I looked so good  this morning, and now I really looked like a Disheveled Hobo. How did I not notice my scuffed up boots this morning?  Knowing me, I was rehershing what I was going to tell the Psychiagtrist today.  Getting back to my Black Pleather Boots.  I bought these boots at the Shoe Station (that's probably why they were $19.99) so I thought they were real leather. For years I bought my shoes from Payless, before I realized the shoes were not real leather but plastic or more like pleather.  What do you do with Pleather Boots?...Shoeshine will not adhere to the WHITE PLASTIC. Guess what it has come down to?....A BLACK SHARPIE!  I went from looking "Classy" to a "Sassy Hobo" real fast.. This is the story of My Black Pleather Boots. The End~

This Can't Be Good For Your Lady Parts!

I was in a foul mood because I didn't want to go to the gym today.  Maybe it's because I don't take exercising seriously, well....... enough to cause results that is.  I prefer to ride my bike outside at a leisurely pace with no wind.  If the wind is blowing ever so slightly, I can't ride.  My Big Brittany Spears and Beyonce thighs don't allow such things.  Well with my Pissy Attitude, I tried to swipe my thing a ma gig and it didn't work.  I'm probably locked out of this 24 hour gym because me and my girls were changing cars because for the month of December my car was broken.  Gosh, I honestly didn't think these 24 hour gyms checked their monitors.  I was looking for someone to let me into the gym when I accidently walked into a Spin Class that was just fixing to start.  I decided instead of hasseling with the gym, I would take the Spin Class in the adjacent building.  For starters, someone had to adust my itty bitty ass seat.  I thought to myself, "this ain't gunna be good".  The pedals of a Spin Bike is like a holster for the feet.  Again someone had to put my foot into the contraption.  I cut a bunch of jokes saying stuff like, "Do ya'll have a Disco Ball that lights up?".... "Can ya'll play some Shinedown for me instead of that Techno Stuff I know ya'll gunna play?"....Nobody was laughing.  I though, "Wow, this is gunna be Brutal"......I started peddling and right away I could feel the difference between the bike I ride outside to this Spin Bike.  The teacher would yell, "TURN THE TENSION TWICE TO THE RIGHT!!!".... I turned it to the LEFT.  After about 15 mintues my Lady Parts were hurting.  I thought this can't be good for you.  Which explains why Lance Armstrong has one testical. Badda Bing Badda Bang.... I'm a cancer survivor too, La De Da...The teacher would yell, "UP UP UP CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN!!!".... I did not, I was in my own little world probably peddling in slow motion.  I knew this Spin Class was too hard.  I'm a month shy of turning 50, more than half my life is over.  I got one foot in the grave.  It's over for me, and I know it.  I gave the class 43 minutes and left bow legged.  Now it's time for a Bubble Bath, time to Soak My Lady Parts.  Goodnight Lance and Goodnight Everyone.  Don't Forget, Life is Short!....Thank God.

She Slept With A Married Man & Ate Acorn Squash!

What a funny title but it's true.  I'm trying to eat healthy, so I decided tonight for my nighttime snack I was going to eat a sweet potato instead of a bag of chips.  Baking 1 sweet potato for a snack seems so odd until I have a flashback.  I had graduated from college and moved to Baton Rouge.  Not knowing the city and being a tightwad lead me to having roomates (all girls of course).  This one roomate I had I so admired from a distance.  She was tall, thin, very neat, and going to school to be a mechanical engineer.  I thought she was so smart to be studying a field dominated by men.  I'm not going to judge my roomate too much because she helped me out on many occasions.  I remember one night a guy shows up to see me like at midnight, she told him to get lost that I was sleeping because I had to get to work early the next day.  My Savior...  Wait a minute!!!.. I just remembered we shared a room.  There was Desiree in her twin bed on one side of the room and there was my roomate in her twin bed plus her boyfriend of the moment on the other side of the room (4 feet apart).  I remember putting the pillow over my head many of nights..... GROSS but TRUE.  Now the married man was just one occasion that I remember.  There was a knock on the door, I answered it, and there standing was a 40 year old married man.  I was shocked because we were only 21 years old.  He wasn't there to see me obiviously.... I asked no questions...Now That's Shocking....Young Desiree never asking.... Who?...What?...When?...and Where?... That really was Young Desiree who now "Puts all her business on the streets". Then there was the time this Tall Tall Amazonish guy wanted to be with me & my roomate.  I thought come on Desiree be Sophisticated & Swinging.  We all 3 go to the store to get Bubbles?...WTF?.....Back at our appartment in our living room, Tall Tall Amazonish guy told me to kiss my roomate.... I said to myself, "Oh, Hell No, Party Is Over"..... I then Ran To My Room and Locked The Door.  Those Swinging 80's were Somethin' Ay?....  What about the Acorn Squash?  Well I'm the type of person if I'm hungry, I eat.  I never wait for anything.  Here's my roomate who was starving takes an acorn squash, wraps it in foil, and sticks it into the oven for an hour.  I though, "An Hour?... Wow, What Discipline!".... She goes back to studying and patiently waits for her Acorn Squash.  I on the other hand think for an hour, "What's Acorn Squash?"... The End~

YOUR MAMA IS DRUNK!

I just read in the paper yesterday that the manufactors of the drug Ambien are having to change it's strength from 10mg to 6.5mg on orders from the FDA. (That probably didn't make sense, it's not like I'm writing with the help of an editor)  It seems there have been too many automobile accidents due to the grogginess the medicine causes the next morning, the sleep driving, and the sleep eating you do on this drug..... just to name a few.  I know all about this drug because I've been on this medication for 20 years.  Am I addicted?.... Am I using it as a Crutch?.....Is it Habit Forming?.... Yup, Yup, &Yup.... When you are Bi Polar you do what you gotta do.  About 14 years ago my daughters where 8, 6, & 4.  My husband was out of town playing golf.  I use to get so pissed off when he went with the boys for the weeken, and I was stuck home taking caring of the girls.  Now that my girls are grown, I'm so enjoying my independence again.  Those fights we use to have about golf are long gone.  Now that I don't give a sh@# if my huband plays golf, there's no money for him to play, unless a vendor brings him then he wins and brings home the same stuff..... a shirt, some balls, a bag, some tees and a gilf certificate to guess where? ..... A Golf Store.  Ain't that somethin'.  Getting back to the Ambien story.   My daughters decided to have a sleep-over.  So that would be 4 girls all under 8 years old.  I wanted to get a good night sleep so I took 2/10mg Ambiens added to the Trivil & Prozac I was on.  I woke up the next morning with Cold & Cough Medicines, Nyquil, Asprins, Pepto Bismol, Band-Aids and fingernail polish strewn everywhere, on my bed and on my nightstand.  I got the story the next morning from my 8 year old.  She said her friend said, "YOUR MAMA IS DRUNK we need to help her." The poor little girls' parents were recovering alcoholics so that's what she thought.  It seems when I was in my Ambien induced Coma the girls had polished my nails, my hands, my eyelids all while I slept. I don't know what they did with all those medicines.  Evidently I didn't ingest all that, expecially Nyquil because I'm still here.  Like Nyquil or any cold medicine would do anything anyway because if you see what I take now to go to sleep?...It's like 2 Horse and 3 other pills all at the same time and I still sometimes can't sleep.  What a great mother I was.  I was over protective in some ways like my girls riding in a car other than me driving would cause me lots of anxiety and yet I never thought to lock up medicines.  Then my daughter told me that I got up out of the bed and had all the girls sit in a circle to drink lemonade out of a bottle.  My oldest daughter said it wasn't lemonade, it was wine coolers.  She said she knew it was bad so she dumped the wine coolers in the sink.  I'm such an over pretective mother, I find this story so bizarre and hard to believe, but it really happened.  I will admit to driving to Wal Mart in my nightgown, buying Hershey Kisses, eating them and returning to bed.  I did that ONE time.  I will also admit to calling random people and have entire conversations, but not remembering any of it the next day.  Now that I've been on Ambien for 20 years I know better.  No more crazy stuff.  I now simply watch Netflx until I fall asleeep then watch it again the next day because it's like I didn't watch it at all.  The end~

GAG ME WITH YOUR DIRTY WATER!

I just got back from the mall with my youngest teenage daughter.  I told her to meet me at the exit at the front of the mall.  I had time to kill so I went into a Williams-Sonoma store looking for something free to drink.  I've never been in this store because I don't care about cooking or anything else related to it, but I spotted a coffee machine.  I asked the sales clerk if they had samples of coffee to drink and she preceded to tell me all about the New Starbucks Coffee Maker?....Coffee Expresso Maker?.....Whatever it was I didn't care because I don't like Starbucks Coffee, it taste OLD to me.  So the sales clerk is demonstrating how to make my latte'.  When she turned on the spout to clear out the thing a ma gig, I wanted to punk.  It was like looking at dirty water splash into a trough that hadn't been clean in years.   I had a Flashback of when I took my daughters to the Waterpark and I saw a dirty floating band-aid, I left at that point and never went back.  It's like a Vietnam Fash Back, that dirty floating band-aid Haunts Me.  After the sales clerk cleared the spout she puts a small pack of milk in the machine so it would froth?....Is that the right word?....Froth?....After the milk was froth???... She added a small container of coffee.  It was all coming out of the machine that had a dirty trough.  I was beyond grossed out.  She hands me my latte' and shows me wear the Commune Sugar and the Commune Creamer was located.  Again, I was grossed out of the thought of the public all using the Commune Sugar and the Commune Creamer.  They had plastic spoons for the public but the used spoons had to go into the Commune Trash.   Dirty Spoons touching other Dirty Spoons....GROSS GROSS GROSS   Flashback.... I hate Picadilly.   The food taste like melamim trays and the forks, spoons, and knives taste & smell like dirty bleachy water.   If I knew what really goes on in the kitchen of restaurants, I'd probably never eat out again in this lifetime.  One last thing I noticed.....The Mall Massage Chair...... OMG.... GROSS GROSS GROSS....There's something to be said about the smell of a spa, relaxing music and PRIVATE I might add, it all adds up to a Soothing Experience that a Mall Massage Chair CAN'T...  Am I the only person that has these thoughts?  I just read this blog to my family.  I guess I AM the only person that thinks this way.....GAG ME WITH YOUR DIRTY WATER AND KEEP YOUR MALL MASSAGE CHAIR TO YOURSELF!