I like to pretend I don't cry over much, but the truth is - I cry a lot. Hallmark cards. Commercials. Talking to patients. Talking to my mother. I wonder how many calories you can burn crying? Probably as many as I am burning writing this blog... and given that my non-dominant typing hand is crammed into a bag of Bugles, that would be negative 20-something.

I don't actually buy Bugles. They're just a fun word to say. Go ahead and try it. Bugles.

My therapist tells me that I need to worry more about myself and less about what others think. I usually follow this with "I know. I'm sorry. Don't hate me". I don't actually say this, but it would be funny if I did. Usually the stuff we pay our therapists to say to us is stuff we already know about ourselves. The reasons we have low self-esteem. The story behind using food for comfort. The addictive qualities of threesomes with random hot men (ha! I only wish I talked to my therapist about that last thing. It's more likely to be addictive qualities of watching my hot neighbor water the grass).

True story (if I can diverge for a minute, and surely I can seeing as you've got nothing better to do AND you're here, reading this. In order. You get my point) - there is this HOT guy at the end of my street who is always shirtless and watering his grass. It wouldn't be quite so bad except he's all muscley and tan.. and shirtless. Even in the winter. He's out there shirtless washing away the snow.

OK, he's not. Not only would that be bad for the consequential ice cascade down the road, I don't typically dig a man with frostbitten nipples. Even if they are attached to perfectly sculpted pecs. Actually, come to think of it - hot chest man is wasting a ton of water showing off his arms. Maybe he builds houses for habitat for humanity when he's not helping his garden grown. Yeah, yeah - that's what he does. AND he rescues puppies. AND he gives foot massages. Ahem, moving on....

I'm sorry I haven't blogged in awhile - I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I've been hating myself for a thousand different reasons and mostly I've been hiding behind this phony facade of cheeriness whilst crumbling to a pitiful mess on the inside. I haven't always made the smartest decisions in the last 30-some years, but trying to figure out how to get past all that and move forward is a lesson in extreme patience. Some days it takes every ounce of energy I have just to get out of bed in the morning. And then, of course, I can't fall asleep at night. it's an endless cycle. I have found out that the most frustrating place to be in life is stuck in hiatus and that's how I often feel. Stuck. With very little wiggle room. And what seems to be nothing within reaching distance to grab a hold of and pull. Ya know? Shitty metaphor, but whatever. It's late and I'm writing this blog while watching old Murder She Wrote episodes on Netflix. That old lady sure was good at figuring out who the murderer was. Maybe she could work for the Baltimore City Police Dept since they don't know what the hell they are doing...

I sure can get off subject.

I'm a free lady 4th of July (Thank you, Uncle Mark!) and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm open to any and all suggestions that aren't outrageously expensive and don't involve me getting peanut butter into any bodily crevices. This causes rash - and don't ask me how I know this. I just do.

Until then, stay cool and be sure to drink your Ovaltine.

In light of recent events, a tribute blog. And unlike my tribute blog to Mr. Jordan Knight (which had to be removed per court order), I promise this one will not be borderline psychotic and will not in any way imply I might be stalking any has-been 80's celebrities. Except for Corey Feldman, who - let's be honest here - would probably welcome any stalking that might come his way.

Famous Separations, Part I.

- The Separation of Church & State: Yes, yes, might as well start off with a controversial one. I could go back and talk about Mr. Martin Luther and the establishment of Protestant Reformation, but to be honest with you - it's a bit of a snooze fest and you'd probably fall asleep before even got to the end of this paragraph. There was a dude named Henry the 8th or 9th or 10th - some number - who basically wanted to reverse his marriage to Mrs. Henry (she probably slept with his brother the night of the wedding - the slut!) and when the Catholic Church said no (they can do that - the Catholic Church, see - they owned EVERYTHING back then), it pissed Henry Some-Number off and he decided to start a new church that was less likely to tell him how to rule his life and more likely to allow him to be what he really wanted to be - a gay pirate*. After that, there was this treaty that basically rendered the US Government to be religiously neutral (in the 1700's no less) - but in actuality, all it really did was spark major conflict between religious zealots and some old dudes who liked to wear fancy girly-looking wigs. Are you getting all this? I hope so because I'm making it up as I go along and I'm likely to forget it all. So then, blah blah blah blah First Amendment. And blah blah blah blah, 'You can't force me to say the pledge of allegiance!' and blah blah blah 'marriage isn't defined that way in the Bible', etc. That about wraps it up. And somehow - we are in the 2000's now - a bagillion years after the term "Separation of Church and State" was even defined, and we still can't get "In God We Trust" off of our currency nor can all the praying the world forgive anything I did from 1996-1997. I'm not sure how that relates, but I thought I'd stick it in there for chagrins. As an added bonus, here's a picture I found of John Locke - an English philosopher who was all "let's decide for ourselves" and "religion is a personal choice".... or something like that:

He seems like a fun guy to hang around at a party, no? I mean, it sure must've been fun back then to be a famous dude. You could totally dress like a woman and no one even cared....Hoover tried that how many years later and was ripped to shreds by the media (?) I mean, of course this guy didn't want religion and government intertwined - he's a cross dresser! He's got a Beyonce wig and ruffles on his neck and yet he was regarded as one of those most influential figures in modern liberalism.... oh wait, that totally makes sense. At any rate - I've found my Halloween costume for this year.... that 'drape 64 yards of satin around my body' look would probably hide all of my figure flaws. Moving on...

- Heidi Montag files for legal separation from her husband, Spencer Pratt. Thanks Google. Now can you please tell me who the hell these people are? I've honestly never heard of either one of them....

- Mary and Jodie were two conjoined twins from Malta who - per court order - had surgical separation against the wishes of their parents (state intervened - so much for separation of church and state - see paragraph 1). I'll save you the suspense - the weaker twin didn't make it. I tried to finish reading the plethora of articles about them, but it was depressing and, much like my own life, I'd rather ignore the sad and hurtful aspects of this world and focus on things that make me happy. Like plastic surgery before-and-after photos, for example. Or youtube videos of fat people falling down.... stuff like that.

- Some things should just remain separated at all times:







Peanut butter and pickles is a nasty violation of both pickles and peanut butter. I'm not sure who I'm feeling more sorry for here - the peanut butter or the bread. Pickles, on their own, are just vile, sodium laden, wanna-be cucumbers. Sorry pickle - but you know it's true. You're good all wilted up on the side of a turkey deli sandwich or deep fried in batter then dipped in ranch dressing. You belong nowhere near my PB.

I had planned on mentioning some other separations here - that Inglesias singer guy getting his mole removed (I burned all his CDs after that - it was the only reason I got them!) ... the separation (and consequential downfall) of the band Menudo (I'm on a Latino kick, what can I say?) But it's getting to be late here and I should probably pay attention to my children, lest inflict more damage on them then I've already done with my - how you say - moral indiscretions. I'd ask you to comment, but I know you won't. Instead, feel free to send me some cash in the mail.... separation is expensive and Momma needs groceries.

Peace out!