Knocked Over By A Feather




Trending 3/17/17



I’ve recently had to add to the list of foods that I can no longer eat.

  • Eggs
  • Onions of any kind, even scallions
  • Legumes (sadly this includes hummus, my favorite legume ever)
  • Red meat (I can’t fucking afford it anyways)
  • The souls of the people who cut me off while I’m driving

I’ve had Irritable Bowel Syndrome for an extremely long time, but this is getting to be ridiculous. Before long, I’ll just be living on chocolate and kale.

Plus, my beloved coffee is giving me bubble gut every morning. This makes me mad.

I still drink it anyways.


If you’ve never experienced someone informing you that they regret ever knowing you, be thankful.

My reaction to most things these days.

It’s a first for me, although I imagine that there must be a few people who have thought it.

Just in case you were wondering, it doesn’t feel so hot.

I have my share of regrets, but to actually be someone else’s is not something that I strive for.


I am close to the end of my hair transition. It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve dyed my hair and I’ve been waiting patiently to see how it really looks.


I’ve had nothing but compliments on it. It might make me look older than I rightfully should, but it also makes me feel like a natural woman.


I haven’t really talked about fibro lately. Maybe I am whined out.

This week has been hell on me physically. Sharp, aching, stabbing pain and weakness, as usual, especially in my legs.

I’ve been taking my meds, smoking pot and sleeping. Not even real sleep, mind you, more like dozing.

This will be the last time I use a Bitmoji, I promise.


The only sorta cool thing is, the combination of meds, marihuana and lack of adequate restorative sleep makes me loopy as hell. Life has a haze of surrealnessĀ to it, which is really trippy sometimes.

It’s just my reality. Nothing that I can do about it. What does it matter if I can’t remember a word when I’m talking to somebody or my major life goal for the day is to take a shower?

It still makes me feel sad, angry, screwed and useless, but I need to learn to adapt to it somehow.

If that means that I’m flaky, then I’m fucking flaky.

*End Rant*

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Squeeze Me, Make Me Whine

Years ago, when I was working in the kitchen at a nursing home, I was putting some cans away (I think they were peaches) when I hurt my right lower back. It seriously almost buckled my legs, the pain was so severe. I stood up slowly and made my way into the kitchen to find my boss. She sent me home to recuperate.

It was sore for a few days but it did indeed heal.

Well, that was a long time ago, at least a decade now.

I woke up the day before Thanksgiving in exquisite pain, my old injury coming back to haunt me. Even standing up made it spasm and catch, forcing me to swear loudly.

Not to mention that I was in the process of my first nasty fibro flare of the cold weather season.

Even the hydrocodone doesn’t help much. I am out of marijuana. I’ve been using my heating pad, Tiger Balm and a generic muscle rub to try to mend myself. It’s a little bit better but I am still scared to go anywhere.

I drank a bottle of White Zinfindel on Thanksgiving just to make it through the day. My family was a bit annoyed but too bad.


A girl has to do what a girl has to do. I think when I do go back to the drug store, I’ll pick up a few bottles. The drugstore is having a huge wine sale.

Yes, they sell alcohol at my local drugstore.

This post is just free-flowing thoughts. I am complaining because I am so done with this bullshit. This is just me whining.

Whine. Wine. Hmmm.

Maybe I should just take up drinking. I know I’ve said it before but I really mean it this time.

Zipping Around

My friend Cheryl decided yesterday, with the logic that this might be his last tour, to see Ringo Starr in Cincinnati on June 22. She asked me if I wanted to go, to which I replied, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

They do, by the way.

I couldn’t afford to buy the ticket myself, but as per usual, she is just that awesome and fab. Looks like I will be getting a second chance to see Ringo, plus seeing both Beatles this summer, with Sir Paul in August right here in Cleveland.


I am really excited! I use my energy for important things like this.Totally worth the recuperating time afterwards.

But road trips are rough on me. I used to love them, but nowadays sitting in a car for hours at a time sucks the fucking life force out of me. Just another thing that I am slowly coming to terms with about my illness, traveling is not a joy anymore.

I am thinking about getting a mobility scooter, aka a zippy cart. Well, I’m going to look into how much they cost, anyways. I am not sure if Medicare would pay for one, I doubt it. (Medicare kind of sucks.) But it sure would make my life more pleasant.

Beep beep, get outta my way asshat!

You don’t realize how much you miss walking easily until you can’t anymore.

If I had one, I could go to the Cleveland Zoo or to the flea market on the weekends. Both of those outings are a no can do now. Besides the pain in my legs, the weakness would eventually make me fall down and go boom.

I don’t mean to complain. (Yes I do.)

Hey, a little whining never hurt anybody.

Keep that in mind, my friends.

“It’s my party and I can whine if I want to.”

You would whine too if it happened to you. Unless you are a saint or something, in which case I say pfft.

I really wanted to do a Fuck It Friday post, but it just didn’t work out. Anyways, I hope you have a fab weekend.

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