For the last 13 years, I have been living with epilepsy. For years, what my parents thought was a bad habit turned out to be absence seizures [mini seizures]. After having a grand-mal seizure, which is what most people think of when they think of a seizure, testing confirmed it: I had epilepsy.
Throughout the years, I've been on all kinds of medications. Some were a complete disaster, some kinda worked, and one works about 95% of the time. Which is the best I can hope for. I've been on a special diet, which includes more fats than most people. This is because epileptics metabolize fat faster than your average human. It's a pain in the ass. I have to eat on a regular schedule, eat a certain amount of fat at every meal, and if I start to feel like I'm going to have a seizure, I have roughly 20 minutes to get something high in fat in me before we're playing God with my neurological system.
Yeah, being in labor was a goddamned blast. Aside from the "push a watermelon out of your snatch" element of it, neurologically speaking, it was a fucking disaster. No sleep + no food + shit-ton of hormones/chemicals + a metric fuckload of stress = NINE seizures. Yay, epilepsy!
Fast-forward to today. My twin sister calls, and scares the ever-loving hell out of me. She found a hard, immobile lump in her breast, and it's rapidly growing. She refuses to get it checked out. Not withstanding the facts: Mama Merlot had breast cancer at age 35. Aunt Merlot had bilateral inflammatory breast cancer at 52 and died from it. Both cases are extremely rare happenings. "Rare" in our family just means we're gonna get it. Oh, and did I mention that Twin has already had lumps removed, and I've got a tumor in my left breast, and I'm having a lumpectomy on my right breast in three days? Yeah. I was a wee bit stressed.
So, in response to my stress, my neurological system decided to respond in a logical, well-thought manner: four seizures. Keep in mind, I had not one, but two parties going on tonight. One was a good, old-fashioned, redneck, beer-guzzling hoedown. Hmmm....Free beer? Check. BBQ? Check. Stupid games? Check. Hot cowboys? Fucking. Check. The other was my safety choice in case hoedown was cancelled. It involved BYOB and a bunch of hipsters arguing over the societal gender roles pressured upon our youth. Dudes. Take a fucking shot and let's play luge with this mattress and the stairs. Calm the fuck down.
Thusly, I have my ass parked on the goddamned couch, where it has been for the last EIGHT HOURS. Scouring FailBlog for anything remotely interesting. All because my stupid neurons & synapses were pissed that I might have a good time tonight, and decided to say FUCK YOU HOE. NO FUN 4 U.
On the bright side, thanks to this lumpectomy in three days I am guaranteed to be in a good supply of Dilaudid.
#winningbitches #bejealous
05 June 2011
Men, take note.
I have always wanted to tell my exes. Shit I never told them up front, because they were all whiney little biches. I know how to pick 'em. Anyway, I've had a few drinks, so here goes...
1)Jason. There are two things you should have figured out by now. You're 35. Number one, it's a dick, not weiner. Secondly, you do not need to piss after having sex to "avoid infection." The fuck do you think that condom was for?!
2)Chris.Okay, so I married your ass. Couple things here, buddy. Your sweaty hairy gut was not attractive, I lied. I used to pretend it was a fuzzy, wet blanket. Also, I knew the honeymoon was over when you asked me to pop all the zits on your hairy, stinky ass. Lastly, just because you can zip up your old high school jeans doesn't mean you should wear them. Muffin top: Google it.
3)Stupid. Question: were you only given a certain amount of good fucks to use? And once they were gone, that was it? Because what little sex we've had for the last 4 years has sucked. Here's a hint: no, I cannot come in 2 minutes. I don't even have time to fake it in 2 minutes. You make a damn good argument for the old size of the boat, motion of the ocean folks. You have a huge wang, but hot damn you suck.
4)John. I hate to say this, since you reign Numero Uno on my Best Sex Ever list. But dude. After an hour, wrap that shit up. I am all for some hot, sweaty sex. BUH-LEEVE ME. But after 45 minutes of my ankles wrapped around my head, I'm getting bored and I'm wondering if you'll wrap it up in time for me to catch the Late Show. Appreciate the consideration though.
5)Christian. Ah, yes, you. My hot as Hell cowboy country fling. Anal is a tricky thing. It's something to be brought up after the 5th date, with someone you love and trust. It is NOT something you just spring on a girl. You don't just start screwing and then OOPS looky where my dicky went! "Oh, don't you like that?" No, dude! Damn! And if I did, it is something you discuss in advance with me. This is why I never called you for a second date.
(Oh quit judging me, I was desperate like a mother fucker. Like you aint never been there.)
Okay, well that's all I can think of for now. Love you, bitches.
Mad Merlot Mama
1)Jason. There are two things you should have figured out by now. You're 35. Number one, it's a dick, not weiner. Secondly, you do not need to piss after having sex to "avoid infection." The fuck do you think that condom was for?!
2)Chris.Okay, so I married your ass. Couple things here, buddy. Your sweaty hairy gut was not attractive, I lied. I used to pretend it was a fuzzy, wet blanket. Also, I knew the honeymoon was over when you asked me to pop all the zits on your hairy, stinky ass. Lastly, just because you can zip up your old high school jeans doesn't mean you should wear them. Muffin top: Google it.
3)Stupid. Question: were you only given a certain amount of good fucks to use? And once they were gone, that was it? Because what little sex we've had for the last 4 years has sucked. Here's a hint: no, I cannot come in 2 minutes. I don't even have time to fake it in 2 minutes. You make a damn good argument for the old size of the boat, motion of the ocean folks. You have a huge wang, but hot damn you suck.
4)John. I hate to say this, since you reign Numero Uno on my Best Sex Ever list. But dude. After an hour, wrap that shit up. I am all for some hot, sweaty sex. BUH-LEEVE ME. But after 45 minutes of my ankles wrapped around my head, I'm getting bored and I'm wondering if you'll wrap it up in time for me to catch the Late Show. Appreciate the consideration though.
5)Christian. Ah, yes, you. My hot as Hell cowboy country fling. Anal is a tricky thing. It's something to be brought up after the 5th date, with someone you love and trust. It is NOT something you just spring on a girl. You don't just start screwing and then OOPS looky where my dicky went! "Oh, don't you like that?" No, dude! Damn! And if I did, it is something you discuss in advance with me. This is why I never called you for a second date.
(Oh quit judging me, I was desperate like a mother fucker. Like you aint never been there.)
Okay, well that's all I can think of for now. Love you, bitches.
Mad Merlot Mama
01 June 2011
Why I have a love/hate relationship with the State
In my short time thusfar on Unemployment, I have learned a few things. Namely, I am fucking lost without a job to go to. It's a daily battle to keep te depression at bay. Amazing how much a job will define who you are. Anyway, there's some other things I have learned. Things like...
1. The State assumes you just want to keep suckling the Government teat.
Granted, there are some women who only want to collect that welfare check and noting more. However, the State knows from IRS records that I have worked every single day of my life for the last 11 years. Yet, they still admonish me that "this isn't permanent." Um, I certainly hope not! Every single day, I get up, make coffee, and scour the job boards for a new job. (Which they damn well know.)
2. Just because the case worker tells you it's taken care of, doesn't mean it is.
For example, since I no longer have a job but am required to spend 8 hours a day searching for one, they consider my job search my job. When I expressed concern over how to pay for childcare for Kidlette, the case worker said I was approved for state-funded daycare and not to wory about it. So I didn't. Until I dropped Kidlette off today, and Daycare stood there with their hand out for $400. I called the state only to be informed that just because the case worker tells you that they took care of it, you still must call and tell them yourself. Which translates into, "The left hand doesn't know what the right one is doing. Sorry." And now I owe Daycare $400. That I most certainly do not have.
3. Your jobsearching doesn't count unless you apply for jobs.
In theory, I understand this concept. Anyone can say they "searched" for jobs, but not apply for them so they can sit on their ass and watch E! Tru Hollywood Story reruns. My problem is that there are only so many new jobs I can apply for on a daily basis. I am not going to reapply for the same job over and over again, thus ruining my chances of even getting an interview. Or, should I apply for jobs I am over or under-qualified for? Knowing full well I will not be selected for an interview? The answer is YES. Apply for everything. Even if you know you'll never get it.
4. Even if you are offered a job that won't cover a third of your rent, you must take it.
Why? Because, "Well you can still get welfare." Excuse me, but I thought the point was to get off of Welfare, not stay on it? The social worker asked me if I thought I didn't need to "put my time in the trenches". Yes, I replied, I do. Because I already have. I have been doing Bachelo-degree holding work without the benefit of a degree. I've put my time in the trenches. And here's a newflash: my budget is built around my old salary. Taking a minimum wage fry-cook job will not even cover a third of my rent. Furthermore, I am over-qualified for such a position, and I don't want to continue to be on Welfare. Jackasses.
5. One must attend classes for shit they already know.
If you've never held a job, I can see where "Interview Techniques" or "Résumé Writing 101" workshops would be useful to you. However, I'd like to once again point out that if I didn't already have these skills, I would not have had the positions I've held. Yet, I must still attend these classes as if I have no idea what I am doing. Am I the only one who thinks it would be a better use of resorces to have someone who truly needs these skills attend and not I? Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I can't learn anything, I'm just saying the basic classes such as "How To Dress for Success" are of little, (if any), use to me.
In the meantime, I suppose I will continue to play this little game so I can have some form of income coming in.
The [Unemployed] Mad Merlot Mama
1. The State assumes you just want to keep suckling the Government teat.
Granted, there are some women who only want to collect that welfare check and noting more. However, the State knows from IRS records that I have worked every single day of my life for the last 11 years. Yet, they still admonish me that "this isn't permanent." Um, I certainly hope not! Every single day, I get up, make coffee, and scour the job boards for a new job. (Which they damn well know.)
2. Just because the case worker tells you it's taken care of, doesn't mean it is.
For example, since I no longer have a job but am required to spend 8 hours a day searching for one, they consider my job search my job. When I expressed concern over how to pay for childcare for Kidlette, the case worker said I was approved for state-funded daycare and not to wory about it. So I didn't. Until I dropped Kidlette off today, and Daycare stood there with their hand out for $400. I called the state only to be informed that just because the case worker tells you that they took care of it, you still must call and tell them yourself. Which translates into, "The left hand doesn't know what the right one is doing. Sorry." And now I owe Daycare $400. That I most certainly do not have.
3. Your jobsearching doesn't count unless you apply for jobs.
In theory, I understand this concept. Anyone can say they "searched" for jobs, but not apply for them so they can sit on their ass and watch E! Tru Hollywood Story reruns. My problem is that there are only so many new jobs I can apply for on a daily basis. I am not going to reapply for the same job over and over again, thus ruining my chances of even getting an interview. Or, should I apply for jobs I am over or under-qualified for? Knowing full well I will not be selected for an interview? The answer is YES. Apply for everything. Even if you know you'll never get it.
4. Even if you are offered a job that won't cover a third of your rent, you must take it.
Why? Because, "Well you can still get welfare." Excuse me, but I thought the point was to get off of Welfare, not stay on it? The social worker asked me if I thought I didn't need to "put my time in the trenches". Yes, I replied, I do. Because I already have. I have been doing Bachelo-degree holding work without the benefit of a degree. I've put my time in the trenches. And here's a newflash: my budget is built around my old salary. Taking a minimum wage fry-cook job will not even cover a third of my rent. Furthermore, I am over-qualified for such a position, and I don't want to continue to be on Welfare. Jackasses.
5. One must attend classes for shit they already know.
If you've never held a job, I can see where "Interview Techniques" or "Résumé Writing 101" workshops would be useful to you. However, I'd like to once again point out that if I didn't already have these skills, I would not have had the positions I've held. Yet, I must still attend these classes as if I have no idea what I am doing. Am I the only one who thinks it would be a better use of resorces to have someone who truly needs these skills attend and not I? Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I can't learn anything, I'm just saying the basic classes such as "How To Dress for Success" are of little, (if any), use to me.
In the meantime, I suppose I will continue to play this little game so I can have some form of income coming in.
The [Unemployed] Mad Merlot Mama
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