Author Archives: crashdlanding

01 Saturday Apr 2023

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Almost two years ago today, I made the biggest mistake of my life. And no, it was not the perm. I actually really liked the perm and might get another one some day.

No, it was the perm that made me do, it. At least that’s what I like to tell myself. You see, two years ago I decided I wanted a perm, and because it was income tax season, I had the money to do so. Yes, it has to be income tax season for me to do drastic changes to my hair. That’s when it was for the purple and blonde hair. Because I am the type of person who will go for months on end and not get a haircut because I hate spending the money on it. I don’t hate spending money, its spending it on certain things.

So, it was the drastic change of a perm, and the confidence that said perm gave me, that made me want to make the biggest mistake of my life. And said mistake has four wheels, a pretty green paint job, and a check engine light.

See, this beautiful beast of a truck was purchased on a whim. She was not my first choice. The truck I was eyeballing in the salon chair while inhaling perm chemical fumes was a GMC Sierra. It had more miles than this one. And I went down to the car lot not half an hour after getting my hair done. But it was taking forever to get my credit check to go through, so we left.

And then the dude called me, at work, the next day and said he had a better truck for me.

And oh did he.

The check engine light came on twenty-four hours after I signed the papers.

Later that year the battery terminal messed up and we had to change that out.

Then the next January it died while i sat in the parent pick-up line waiting on my child.

I have barely driven it for the bulk of 2023. Because On February 7, at the bottom of the hill my workplace sits on, just as I was turning into a curve, it died. I only knew it died because the steering tightened up and the breaks were hard to push. I managed to get it off the road, mostly (and into mud). I called my husband because I was afraid to start it and get it up the hill without back up, and I message my manager letting him know I’d be late.

On the way home that day it died four times.

My brother-in-law (he might never know how much I appreciate him) and my sister and the kids, came to the house so he could look into it. First, we thought it might be the fuel injector that we discovered was out on it the last time it died (parent pick-up). Then after putting it on a scanner, he said it was probably a thing called the ignition coils. And you could only get two of them or eight. So we got eight. For $254.39. He put them on a while later. And I managed to drive it to work for two days, before it died again in an S curve in downtown.

Again I called my husband, we pulled the think into parking lot of a for sale business, and I left a note in the windshield that said, “Truck is dead please don’t tow.” He drove me to work, and that evening we got it out of the strange parking spot and left it at his mother’s place of residence.

The next day, a Sunday I believe, I drove it home. I vaguely remember making it all the way home without it dying. But it was mostly because I was filming the entire event and it wanted to prove me wrong and make people think I was crazy. I am crazy but its the truck that’s making me crazy.

Eventually, BIL got the ignition coils put on, and I was able to drive it to work for a few days before it died again on February 17th. At this point, after the ignition coils, the assumption was the problem must be spark plugs and the fuel injector, for which there was a previous code. On February 24th, he bought and put on the spark plugs and the fuel injector, which I’d already had. I drove it to work two days. On the second day, I was IN MY FLIPPING DRIVEWAY and it died.

That was the last day I drove it. Until March 1st when I picked my sister up and she came to the house and helped my clean out my garage so I could pull the enormous hunk of junk into it so I didn’t have to look at it anymore.

On Monday, March 25th, he installed a new $180 fuel pump because that was the next only possible solution, and it turned out that might not have been the problem. Keep in mind, the thing has barely been driven for more than a few days at a time.

On friday (yesterday) he came and fiddled with it a bit, because when you put on a fuel pump on a 2012 Dodge Ram, when there’s about three quarters of a tank of gas in it, its “easier” to take the BED OF THE TRUCK OFF, which is a nerve wrecking experience in and of itself and get to the fuel pump than dropping an almost full tank.

He put on some nuts and bolts and taillights that he didn’t get back on previously because it was getting late and messed around with it some more. He took it for a drive (i nearly tinkled when he hit 60 on a two-lane road, I usually don’t go over 35 on) just to see if he could copy what it does.

Of course he wasn’t able to recreate the incident, because the truck gets shy and doesn’t want to show off. And prefers for me to look like a lunatic.

The best he could figure that maybe it was a little low on transmission fluid, and maybe needed a little oil (she needs an oil change but you can’t get that done when you can’t get very far).

So, I bought both of those things today, and put them in with some frustration.

Listen, the fact of the matter is this: I love driving my truck. I feel safer than I was in my little car, like no one can get me. If I were to encounter the stupidest thing on four legs, a deer, I would be more likely to win in that battle in my Dodge Ram, than I was in a Chevy Cobalt. Its also a beautiful automobile, and I was always proud to say it was mine.

When it ran right.

When you are driving along, minding your own business, and your steering gets stiff, you lose juice, and you have to try to steer your way off the road safely, its nerve wracking. When you live in an area like I do, and there’s an uncanny number of either rock walls or drop offs into rivers protected only by guardrails that may or may not be dug into eroding hillside, it’s scary not knowing when you might lose power. The last time I drove this truck very far i barely let it get over 40 miles per hour because I was scared.

And for some reason I decided to try and drive it to work tomorrow.

To be honest I am scared shitless. I don’t want to risk having to pull off in a questionable spot. Luckily the drive TO work is the rock wall side. There’s a few places before you get to downtown that would be okay places to pull off. But just thinking about it is really scary, and I don’t want to do it.

As I have discussed her many times, I am not a praying woman. I am not religious at all, mostly because I don’t know what to believe. But after the over $700 in parts and labor I’ve put on that truck in the first four months of this year, I am praying that it gets me to and from work tomorrow.

And the next day I have to take The Kid to an appointment. I really mad at myself that I forgot about that. The appointment is all the way in another county. Like, half an hour’s drive, on the highway.

This is really just a therapy post, for me. I know I’ve said a million times that I’m going to stop posting personal stuff here. But that truck really is feeling like the dumbest decision I’ve ever made. And I really need something to go right for me.

Not that anybody is reading any of my posts besides diet related posts.
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Will the real Madeleine McCann Please Stand Up*

23 Thursday Mar 2023

Posted by in current events, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized

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*I’m not expecting her to emerge from the mist. I realize that title might seem a little insensitive and that’s not my intention.

Because Julia Wandelt is not it

I could be wrong but I’m 75% sure I’m not.

Over the last several months there’s been speculation that a young woman from Poland named Julia Wandelt (or Wendell or Faustyna) could be missing the Madeleine McCann.

Who is Madeleine McCann

In May 2007, three year old Madeleine was on vacation in Portugal with her parents and twin siblings. Her mother and father left her and her two year old siblings sleeping in their apartment to go to dinner, about 180 feet away. Around 10pm her mother, after having checked on the children multiple times, discovered Madeleine missing.

At one point her mother and father were suspected of covering up her accidental death after some DNA evidence was misinterpreted. Her parents were later cleared of any wrongdoing, and the girl, who would be 20 now, has never been found.

There are multiple theories as to what happened to the then three year old, most notably that a man previously convicted of abducting and murdering another child might have had something to do with her disappearance.

To be honest, there’s a lot about the case that doesn’t make a ton of sense, but that’s not why we’re here right now.

Who is Julia Wandelt

Julia Wandelt (aka Julia Wendell or Julia Faustyna) is a 21 year old Polish woman claiming that she could be the missing Madeleine McCann. She began sharing “evidence” that she was McCann on her YouTube, Facebook, and Tik Tok accounts. Those accounts have since been deleted as she has faced criticism and threats.

She began with a plea to the parents of Madeleine, asking for DNA testing and to get in contact with them. As far as I know she has not spoken to them. Wandelt had traveled to the United States with a woman named Dr Fia Johansson a private investigator and self professed medium.

Why tho?

Why is it Julia Wandelt believes she is Madeleine McCann?

Madeleine McCann had a very distinctive eye defect, affecting the appearance of her iris and pupil. this condition is fairly rare, only affecting about one in ten thousand people. The unique characteristic was quite obvious in images that circulated of the little girl after she went missing.

This defect, called a coloboma, which Wandelt had, is one of the reasons why people might think she is McCann.

Coloboma in Madeline McCann’s eye. Image.
Julia Wandelt (left) Madeleine McCann (right) Image

There are a number of other pieces of “evidence” given as to why she might be the lost little girl, including other facial features.

Why do I think Julia Wandelt is not Madeline McCann?

I think, with close to 8 billion people on earth, the chances that two people look eerily similar, enough that one might be the older version of a missing person, is highly likely. There are tiktok videos that people stitch asking the original poster who their parents are. We all have a doppelgänger somewhere.

One of the things that tells me that it is unlikely that Wandelt is McCann all grown up is the placement of that rare condition that causes the deformation of the pupil. Yes, it is rare, but that doesn’t mean that two different people can’t have it.

And if you look at images comparing their faces, Wandelt’s defect appears to be straight, while McCann’s radiates away from the center of the eye or the pupil, at an angle. McCann’s coloboma is also more distinct. I’ve found no pictures of Wandelt that show it as prominent as McCann’s.

Based on my limited knowledge of facial features, there seem to be discrepancies between the two that might show differences as opposed to similarities. Wandelt’s fuller lip, brow bones, jawline, and other features just do not scream to me, “I’m a grown up McCann.”

There is also the fact that Wandelt and this Johansson woman decided it was important for the case to travel to Los Angeles, California. In the United States. One continent that is NOT a part of the case. If she wanted her DNA compared to that of McCann, would she not do so in a country closer to where she’s from or where she went missing?

Sus

I believe that Julia Wandelt had ulterior motives. I do not claim to know anything about her childhood (which she claims to not remember because she was trafficked by the same or similar looking German man believed to be involved in McCann’s disappearance) or her life at all.

I do believe in possibilities. Specifically ones that include her having made the claims initially believing they’d get little attention, and it because something bigger. In the day and age of “going viral” it’s not hard to convince people of something. Perhaps it was a hole she dug too deep and now she’s going all in?

Or perhaps she was convinced by someone *cough cough* johansson *cough cough* that she could be the missing girl, and they are looking for some sort of fame from the act, perhaps to free Wandelt from a not ideal life she was living?

Why else would they go to LA thr publicity capital of the world?

Like I said, all speculation.

Regardless

Madeleine McCann is or was a human and it’s an absolute tragedy what happened to her at such a young age. But Julia Wandelt is as well, regardless of what happened to her and what is going on now. And Wandelt has apparently suffered from death threats and harassment over the whole thing.

It is wrong and inappropriate to harass or threaten anyone, regardless of the reason. Treat others the way you’d want to be treated and all that.

But I also think that the parents of McCann are not holding out any hope that Wandelt is their missing child. I think after si king, I wouldn’t blame them. But it must be hard for them to go through this ordeal. Like losing her all over again.

But I am almost certain, like 74%, that these two are not the same person. And if I’m wrong, I will eat my words.

In conclusion

While I’m sure her mother and father would be absolutely thrilled to know her child is alive, Madeleine McCann is still missing, and last I heard, presumed dead.

One can only hope that Julia Wandelt (and her would be guardian and mentor Dr Fia Johansson) is not insisting that she is the missing McCann, solely for the publicity.

I have paid for my website for the final time.

23 Thursday Mar 2023

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All of the website things that I’ve spent money on to keep this little nonsense blog a float, for the third year has been paid for. So until February and March of 2024, this website will be up and running.

At that time I will not renew the domain name, premium subscription, or g suite.

Why?

Because none of my fiction posts, which is why I started this blog in the first place, get any attention, while anything and everything Spite Diet, gets likes multiple times a day, every single day. I am not a diet blogger, but that is what the people want.

I really done have a niche. I do all kinds of blogging here. But none of the stuff that I really love gets any attention, and I’ve kind of lost hope.

I’ve lost hope in a lot of things but this was the one place I thought…

Well I’m dumb. Clearly. I wanted to write and craft and art. But the internet wants to read about my diet.

Which, by the way, is going horribly. I’ve lost my will. I hate meal prep. I neglect to log my food and I’ve had all the things I’m “not supposed to” I’m probably back over 300 but I wouldn’t know because I haven’t weighed myself in two weeks. My appointment is on Monday and I dread it.

No one is gonna read that, I’m not completely stupid. There’s still a morsel of logic left in my brain. I know that no one finds anything here interesting unless it’s about me losing weight.

Wasting my time.

It Has Pockets

13 Monday Mar 2023

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But at what cost?

I recently discovered that there is a direct correlation between the size of my pants and the size of my pockets. This is not implying that no pants equal no pockets. Wait, I guess it is. But here I am referring to my jeans. Specifically, the bigger the pants the bigger the pockets.

Allow me to elaborate. I buy most of my jeans, which is all I wear to work, at Lane Bryant. If I need jeans in a hurry, I buy them at Walmart. Lane Bryant is a plus size retailer, my local Walmart location doesn’t carry a huge selection of plus sized clothing. Now most of the jeans I’ve purchased at Lane Bryant are too big. This is not due to my recent Spite Diet. They were always big. All of those too big jeans are so big that if I don’t do something to keep them up I have to pull them up repeatedly throughout my workday. So big, in fact, that I have multiple times threatened to “moon” those around me just by walking or, lort forbid, bend over. The jeans I’ve purchased at Walmart, which are a few years old at this point are all two small (and all different sizes despite the number on the tag).

The few pairs of pants that I do not have to pull up or sinch at the waist, have small pockets. These are the Walmart jeans.

So, the problem is this, the only time that my phone can be put in my pocket without it threatening to pants me in public is when the phone can barely fit in said pocket. I suppose the choice is either struggle with my pocket or my pants.

Yes, this is an absolute ridiculous reason to post. This post is also not about the difference between clothing sizes and retailers. But there is a point.

Women’s Clothing Generally Lacks Pockets.

It is a well-known fact that women’s clothing, at least the bulk of it, lacks proper pockets. The phrase “Thanks, it has pockets!” couldn’t have become a thing without that being a fact. We ladies get super excited when we see we have pockets, especially ones we didn’t expect.

There’s a couple of theories floating around as to why this is true. One is the predominance of men in fashion. Men know how to design clothes that look good on a woman but don’t think about how the functionality of those items of clothing for the people that will wear them. The fact that MEN are more prominent in the designing of women’s clothing, is bonkers. But my theory about that is in the past women were always considered to be not for the professional world. Women belong in the home having families and taking care of husbands. And women back and that day didn’t need pockets to keep things in, but men did.

Another theory is that the main concern when designing women’s clothing is fashion over function. Designers make the items to look good, plain and simple, pockets are not a priority. And done the wrong way on an item, pockets can change the look or silhouette of the item. Like cargo pants. Imagine all the stuff you can carry in cargo pants. And then imagine how lumpy you’d look with them packed full of, I don’t know, marshmallows.

But not only does women’s clothes generally lack pockets, when they do have pockets, they are usually small. “Yes please, I would like the pair of pants with the pocket that I can fit this folded one dollar bill into!”

It’s all about Equality.

Seriously though. Men get pockets in their pants. Have you seen a pair of men’s pants without them? And they have big pockets, too. Everyone deserves pockets.

I do enjoy carrying a purse. I put all kinds of nonsense in there, but I don’t like taking one to work, the place I go most frequently, because I don’t always need all the things I carry in it, and with the Spite Diet, I have to carry a lunch box now. So, I don’t want to carry two separate bags to work when I don’t need most of the stuff in one of them.

Give me pockets and make them big enough for my phone and my Airpods and some cash and some lip balm. I don’t want a pocket that I can barely get my enormous smartphone into without wondering if it’s going to fall out of said pocket and smack its screen on the tile floor of my workplace. I cannot afford a new phone. Oh, and not just back pockets, like on most jeggings (yes, I still wear them, no I don’t care about fashion, sheesh).

In Conclusion

Pockets are just one of those “hot topic” issues that really shouldn’t be. It sounds ridiculous to get bothered by pockets, really. But its a the little things that can make life easier for everyone. Having a place to put a thing you wanna carry, without having to carry a whole other thing.

This post does not have pockets. Sorry.

The “Spite Diet” Update

12 Sunday Mar 2023

Posted by in Beauty and Body, The Spite Diet

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It’s a thing.

As a reminder, The Spite Diet is me decided to lose weight in my own because my doctor thought I needed to take a drug to do so, even though she didn’t ask if I was even trying.

That’s not me judging people who use medication to lose weight, but me figuring I should give it a good college try before I start pumping my body with medication marketed for something else.

The actual diet is me being mindful of portion sizes and making healthier choices as opposed to my typical “eat whats delicious and convenient in unhealthy amounts and not realizing I feel terrible because it’s bad for me and not because it’s normal”.

What I Eat

Breakfast: A protein shake (equate high performance vanilla) and a protein bar (usually quest) or Oats Overnight oats.

Lunch: To work I take a wrap, veggie straws, and pickles. I drink water or a low calorie packet mixed in water.

Dinner: chicken and a Turkey burger patty and a veggie.

Snacks: low fat yogurt.

How It’s Going

Well, to be honest, my high stress life, has taken a toll on the journey. Yes, according to the scale I had lost 26 pounds since the beginning of this journey, I am an emotional eater, and all the things GOING ABSOLUTELY BONKERS WRONG in my life is not helping that.

I’ll not go into the gritty details, but I have turned to good to make it all better. While better it has not gotten, I know that food will not solve my problems. No matter how good it tastes.

I haven’t weighed myself in over a week, and didn’t even record it then. Should I go do it now? Okay not as bad as I thought. 301. Which takes my weight lost down a pound, but we’re letting that slide.

I have also slacked on tracking my food and water intake. I know that’s not the main goal here, and tracking doesn’t necessarily help the mission, but I feel better about it, and have accountability when I do it.

Tools of the Trade

Lost It: I just renewed my subscription (for a deal!) of the premium Lose It app. Now, I have heard some not so great things about the app, like how unrealistic some of the goals it’s sets for someone can be. But the thing is very customizable and it’s really just guidelines anyway.

Intermittent Fasting: LOSELY. I “fast” between 8pm and 8am daily. It reality it ends up being 8:30am or later before I have breakfast due to my schedule. And I don’t plan on closing that window anytime soon. I stopped eating after 8am when I was trying to lose weight before having The Kid, and it seemed to help.

You body tends to slow down on its functions in the evenings, and you don’t digest food well late at night (unless you’re in a schedule where you eat regularly at that time). You’re also not buying many calories while sleeping, so leaving food on your stomach over night is just bad form.

Some Overall Thoughts

  • Don’t deny yourself. If you are really truly craving something, go for it, just in moderation. Like I’d dance in the pale moonlight in my skivvies if I could get my hands on a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. But I would try not to engulf the entire pint in one sitting.
  • Doesn’t have to be diet food. It’s just probably shouldn’t be garbage. Eat that Doritos Locos taco from Taco Bell, just keep the lettuce and tomato, and try not to order the whole cravings box and consume it all. Fun Fact the steak offerings come with a sodium warning.
  • Drink water. Muscle cramps suck.
  • Setbacks are normal. Don’t let it break you.
  • Small goals are good. They are baby steps to the big milestones.
  • Everything doesn’t work the same for everyone. Find what fits you and your life.
  • It’s a journey. There will be ups and downs.

Controlled Substances

27 Monday Feb 2023

Posted by in Family, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized

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The Kid Has ADHD & I Guess I’m ready to talk about it. Some.

This post was written and edited over a period of multiple weeks. Between personal issues and family issues to weather related power outages, I have managed to complete and post it.

My kid, who has been a glorious part of this world for the better part of this decade is the absolute best thing to happen to me. She is our miracle, as we tried for a long time to conceive and, until I found the right doctor, I never thought I could.

Now, almost ten years later she’s been a blessing. And also we’ve had some of the hardest times because of her.

I feel like a bad parent for saying that but I’ll explain.

The kid has been in daycare for her whole life. I cannot pinpoint for you when the trouble started but there were times, as she got older, that we would get messages from her daycare teachers, the women I often credit with helping raise her, that she was behaving inappropriately and unkindly.

This meant throwing fits and not doing what she was told. I don’t recall her ever purposefully hurting another child, but there have been times when her teachers have messaged me implying that if her behavior continued she would not be allowed to return.

Then school started, but she started school in the midst of a pandemic, and 75% of her kindergarten year was spent with virtual learning. To be honest, they had to give every kid a pass that year, there’s no way they all learned enough to be successful. The last half of her kindergarten year was mostly spent in a classroom. We heard nothing of any issues that year.

But when first grade rolled around we began to hear things. To be honest most of it is a blur. Except the number of times my husband and I had to leave work and go to school because she had a meltdown.

These meltdowns would range from shutting down and refusing to do anything or communicate to outright fits of kicking and screaming and falling to the floor.

No one has ever been physically hurt, but the kids were terrified, and school staff would have to clear the room until she could be calmed. And more often than not I was the only one who could calm her. That makes sense, as I’m often the only one she will listen to at home (no offense dad you know it’s true).

We also learned that she started second grade with an discipline plan, a plan of what to do if the situation occurs. Apparently it started in kindergarten and we didn’t know.

If it weren’t for the constant email updates for her amazing teacher and communication with the principals and staff (except for not telling us about the issue in kindergarten), and their frankness but kindness when discussing it, we wouldn’t have figured anything out. They also made it clear they too wanted the best for her.

It was my sister who brought it to our attention that she might have ADHD. My nephew, who is a teen now 🤮🤦‍♀️ had very similar issues when he was in the early years of school. So we discussed it with her doctor, filled out a form (Vanderbilt Assessment), which also had to be filled out by her teacher.

It was concluded she did in fact have signs and symptoms of ADHD. We started her on medication, first a 5mg dose of Dexmethylphenidate HCL ER, generic for Focalin. We ended up raising the dose to the 10mg when her outbursts continued.

She’s been on the medication for fourteen months. And she hasn’t had major issues in some time. She has and a few incidents but we discovered those are anxiety related. Anxiety can often occur in patients with ADHD. Ninety-nine percent of the time she does amazing. When she has her medicine.

Therein lies the problem.

I do not give her her medicine when she is home. I don’t see a reason to make her focus when she is at home doing nothing. If she is in a situation where she needs to be calm and receptive to instruction and good behavior, or when she might get anxious (I’ve been told my numerous people the meds help with anxiety), we give it to her.

So, the thirty day prescription can last longer than thirty days. And we only pick it up when she’s running low. That is also part of the problem.

Because right now, there is a shortage on many types of ADHD medications. This means that accessing it is difficult. And considering it is a controlled substance, walking up to my pharmacy, where they know me, and asking about it daily makes me feel like a drug seeker.

Honestly I probably need some kind of drug but well not get into it right now.

I’m sure the pharmacy employees are getting tired of seeing my face, but knowing what mg child can be like if she hasn’t had her medicine, scares me.

There have been a few people who have offhandedly commented on the fact that I am medicating her. But I won’t say what I think about their lives. Sorry that’s rude.

The Kid has been without her medication for almost three weeks. While she hasn’t had any major issues, we’ve seen some signs that perhaps she’s nearing an explosion. And that’s what I’m afraid of.

The most we can do is try and grind into The Kid’s mind how to handle her own feelings and emotions and how to calm herself down in case she gets upset. I’d love to not have to medicate her anymore, but I don’t foresee that being a possibility anytime soon.

Drugs y’all.

I have regerts

21 Tuesday Feb 2023

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My life is a series of bad decisions. Not the “should be in jail” or “how am I still alive” bad decisions. But the, “everything could be different” bad decisions. Like, fifteen years ago when I graduated college, I made the decision to take time off before I started looking for teaching jobs. I babysat (I still have the bite mark to prove it) I then got married. And I decided that I didn’t want my new husband to have to keep paying my student loan payments. So, what did I do? Did I go out and try to get a teaching job?

Nope.

Of course not.

I went and applied online to the local retail establishment. The thought was, “I’ll just work here for six months and then get a teaching job.

Dummy.

I got comfortable. I was making money already, why would I need to get a teaching job?

Then I started to realize that I wasn’t feeling fulfilled in said retail environment. Or was it that they offered me a position on the floor? I don’t know, it’s been a long time.

One of my more recent bad decisions I like to lovingly blame on the sudden influx of confidence from a brave (for me) new hair style. In April of 2021 I bought The Truck. Oh yes, for about 48 hours I loved the truck. Until the “Check Engine” light came on. My current working theory is that the dealership either bought a new battery or just left the one in it disconnected and the light cleared for a while.

More recently, two weeks ago, at the bottom of the hill where my day job is located, it died. It started to shake (NOT like a polaroid picture), the steering stiffened up, and then she died. Well, the engine died. The lights and everything else worked. Thankfully, since I was able to put my emergency flashers on so idiots didn’t rear end me in the dark.

See, the ironic, coincidental, or curious thing is, I asked the universe (my mom, in spirit) to give me a sign. What kind of sign, for what, you ask?

“Give me a sign if i shouldn’t put in for this promotion.”

Something like that nonsense. What better sign that for my only mode of transportation to the place where the promotion would be given dies at the bottom of the hill before I could get there. Ah yes, that funny little thing of maybe I should listen.

After dropping roughly $344 down a proverbial well, hoping to fix the thing, it died again four days ago. Luckily it was in the middle of town (its a small town) and not far from my Mother in Law’s house. We got it home the next day, and its not been started since.

But wait, there’s more

There’s a list of things, big and small, that have worn on my mental health over the last few weeks.

  • One of my bosses made me feel like he wasn’t confident in me in the promotion so it made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
    • Said boss unintentionally made me feel like I was being punished for putting in for said promotion, It is important to note that not only would I be on his level had I gotten it, but he/we would be losing an employee in our area that would not be replaced.
  • I learned some interesting information about the whole work situation that made me feel like I would get it only to feel like i definitely won’t
  • The store manager is leaving, and I despise when there is a management shakeup. Especially when you develop some kind of rapport with the manager and you have to try to do the same with the new one. I’ve been through that process a lot.
  • The Kid lost the tip to her fake Apple Pencil, after someone “pre-ordered” a sticker of their dog. They paid money for it. And we paid money for the pencil that is absolutely useless now.
    • I am going to let her use my pencil and ipad to draw the dog and we will get the woman her sticker.
  • Apparently, I cannot use the available means of selling items on my website because PayPal wants me to use a business account so they can charge two different fees. I don’t sell enough stickers to validate eating the fee.
  • Since making the decision to apply for the promotion, there seems to be a negative change to The Kid’s behavior. She was doing so well and has had issues at school and home.
  • OH, and because we don’t like to give her ADHD medication when she isn’t at school, we forget to pick it up regularly every month, only when we are running low, not only will it not let us pick her new prescription up until MARCH, but they got the older one on file to go through, but THEY ARE OUT.

This sounds dumb but that list doesn’t feel long enough for what these last SEVERAL weeks have felt like. It’s probably the combination of all those things plus the overwhelming feeling of stress and worry that comes with them.

I still owe over $12,000 on the truck, I know I cannot sell it as is, it would have to be fixed, and I cannot afford to fix it.

I’ve kept myself in a constant state of panic and worry and stress over this promotion that I honestly don’t know heads from tails.

Also, my heartrate was at 120 when I finally pulled the truck into the driveway on Saturday. It took about ten minutes to get it to settle down into its normal range.

I’m chocking all these issues up to my terrible karma. I firmly believe that I unknowingly pissed in some vengeful spirit’s cheerios and they’re taking revenge on me. Anything I touch gets ruined.

Just thinking about all this is giving me chest pains. So, I’m going to end with a few notes. First, I’m trying to work on both Pretend Fantasy Novel, which will have a title soon, and Silent Secret, the 2nd Story. I want to have two separate pages for them, but don’t want to have to charge separate subscriptions. I’m going to try and finish the multiple free fiction stories that I’ve started, including Cora. The goal is also to have more side stories/lore/background/etc for PFN.

I am also going to try to post here more, including the only post anyone ever seems to hit like on, Spite Diet posts.

The Path of Least Resistance

02 Thursday Feb 2023

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I’ve realized I’ve begun to base my life around how many days until my next day off. I was just off a day. My next day off is in three days. I literally just had a day off.

The fact that I am at the phase, or point or stage or whatever of my life that I am basing my life around when I don’t have to work is disappointing. Starting the countdown over again after a day off.

I do not work the same schedule as typical Americans. The average schedule is 9-5 Monday through Friday. The good ol’ 9-5. You hear it in movies and tv shows, newspapers and books and magazines. But not me, no.

I’m a lowly retail worker. We don’t close at 5 or 6 on Friday and open back up at 8 or 9 on Monday. Hour current store hours are 6am to 11pm seven days a week. I’m lucky enough to have gotten, after almost fourteen long years, a stable schedule working the same time every day. But I don’t get weekend off unless I ask for it. And even then it has to be approved my management.

Now, I already know that this living “day off to day off” is a symptom of not loving my job. While there are aspects of my job I do enjoy, and several I have grown to love appreciate, I do not love my job, either parts of it or it’s entirety.

This is a fact of life for many Americans. The majority of which (which I am a part of) simply cannot afford a career change, for one reason or another. So they are stuck in the path they have made and cannot fathom divergence from it.

Personally, I made some decisions early on and over the course of multiple years that led me to not leaving this path.

Think of it like this: you’re young and walking along a road. For several miles it is one lane, one direction. And then suddenly the road widens. Then signs up ahead warn you adulthood is approaching. Once you reach, more signs. Signs telling you “this way for higher education” whether that be trade school or college.

But the path varies for each individual. After college my path divided. Warning signs stated, “try for texting jobs ahead” and “take time off”. Guess which path I chose?

Then there was the marriage path. And then, again, “try to teach” and “job. Now.” I didn’t want my new husband to have to keep paying my student loan payment.

And after that the rest doesn’t matter. Because I quickly passed the detours for teaching and never realized until too late that I’d run out of chances. Except that once, when I interviewed for a teaching position. But honestly at that point the road was out.

Now, the only exits I have will keep me on the same track in the same state. Sure, there is always the potential to attempt a new route to the same destination. And that’s frankly the only option I have to have nicer scenery.

The fact is, I know if I take another route I won’t be happier. I’ll still be on the same level of life that I am now. Aspects will improve but, as has been said, with great power comes great responsibility. The situation doesn’t change, it’s just a little shinier. There’s still rust underneath.

The Spite Diet: 32 Day Update

30 Monday Jan 2023

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“Scales and Arpeggios”

Hi, my name is Crystal. Hi Crystal. It’s been 21 days since my last Update.

Spite Diet Reminder

  • The goal is supposed to be to change my eating habits and lifestyle to improve my health and see how much weight I can manage to lose before my next doctor appointment on March 29th.
  • I started it because my “lady” doctor, suggested i ask my regular doctor about Ozempic, a drug manufactured for diabetics that has shown positive results doe weight loss patients. And I wasn’t even asking about losing weight.
  • There’s a blog post coming soon about Ozempic.

For more info see this post.

So, how’s it going?

Terrible.

Seriously, listen. I’ve let the idea that I’m not going to be eating all my favorite foods the way I was eating them, the absolute consistency of routine has become boring, and I’m frustrated with a lack of results.

I’ve had more Pepsi than I should have (I firmly believe it is my one true vice and I’ll need a 12-step program to break its hold on me), I had a mental breakdown the other day and decided I needed Mexican food.

It was absolutely delicious and I regret most of it.

I feel terribly alone in this journey. There’s a post about that too but I’m not linking it.

I know how to fix (most) of it

But I have issues. I won’t go to the gym by myself because i’m an anxious scaredy cat. I won’t message them because I’m afraid of doing something to look stupid. And it’s too cold to walk.

And to be honest I can’t really go walking or to the gym on days it would benefit me most (high stress days) because it’s my job to pick up The Kid from daycare on those days. And of course I don’t want to add to His high stress.

I also know that to see results I need to break my own rules way less often. I saw more results (lost more weight) the first week because I had zero Pepsi and really stuck to the diet. I made less not so great choices and tried harder.

I want to do better. I need to do better. I want to prove my doctor wrong, even if I won’t see her again for another year. I don’t need drugs to lose weight. I need willpower, determination, and to not be so depressed gosh darn it.

So, wish me luck I guess?

The Spite Diet: sucks.

28 Saturday Jan 2023

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It’s hard to change your lifestyle when you are alone.

When my mom had her stomach surgery, she was in the hospital for two months, she was on ventilator for a large portion of that time. In that span of time she had gone through the withdrawal of her nicotine addiction and had been without a cigarette.

When she was released into my sister’s care (excellent care) she was without cigarettes. I cannot remember how long she stayed with my sister. But she eventually decided that she was healed enough and knew how to take care of herself and her newfound circumstances, and was ready to go back to the home she shared with my dad.

But when she returned, neither my father nor my brother, who both lived with her, nor my other brother, stopped smoking around her. My sister and I were smart enough to never pick up that habit. But the rest didn’t care enough not to smoke around her.

She was in her late 50s, and it would have done her a service to neglect to partake. I’m sure pointing this out to them now would mean nothing to them. But had they done so, she might have stopped for good.

However, one day, she decided that she would stop at a gas station, and buy her first pack of cigarettes in months.

She tired to hide it but we knew.

Had her lifestyle change been important to everyone the same way it was to her and myself and my sister, she might have had better success. Her support system could have been larger, so to speak.

Of course a lot of it has to with the individual’s willingness to stick to the change. But it helps having people around you who are right there with you. It’s easier to do things together than it is alone.

There’s a point to my rambling.

I’ve been doing this “Spite Diet” thing for one month. I’ve only lost 6 pounds. I’ve weighed myself three times. I’ve not gained it back. But I’ve only lost 6 pounds.

I tried to go to the gym but couldn’t get in.

I try to eat healthy and meal prep.

The other night I cooked some diced chicken and quinoa. It was delicious and I wanted to save the rest for lunch the next day. I rested for a while after my meal and returned to the kitchen to package up my leftovers, and it appeared I’d left less chicken than I thought.

My first thought was, “oh, maybe I didn’t just take half? Or “did I maybe get seconds without realizing?” As if my eating disorder (not claiming to have an eating disorder here) is so bad I black out while eating.

Now, I knew my husband had made his own dinner. I saw the cooking paraphernalia on the stovetop. He wouldn’t have ate some of my chicken as well as what the hell ever he made for himself, would be?

Oh, but he would. “Honey, did you eat some of my chicken?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I was going to save that for my lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, sorry.”

That’s it. Oh, sorry. That’s all.

Tonight, I had my dinner and was going to make a quick wrap for lunch at work tomorrow. I was thinking about that wrap all day. The last one was so good.

It’s a whole wheat tortilla, a serving size is good deli turkey, a single slice of Swiss, some spinach, a little Mayo, and if I was feeling frisky a thin slice of tomato (too much makes it soggy). I would pair it with veggie straws and some pickles.

I walk into the kitchen and see, sitting on the counter, my turkey. Now, last I left it there were enough for two wraps. There was barely enough for one. I could have made it work.

But, it was room temp. Now, one could assume that had it not been out that long, it might have been fine. But one does not know what I know, which is that my husband and child left the house around (you know what I don’t know what time) before noon. Eight hours before I went to make my lunch.

I’m a dumbass. But I’m not so much of a dumbass as to not know that eating eight hour old counter lunch meat would make a good time not. I mean, I might lose some weight afterward, but that’s not how I want to do it. Or how I want to die.

So, when he walked into the room, I asked him, “honey, is that my good Turkey?”

“What turkey?”

I point. “That room temperature Turkey over there.”

“Yes. The Kid wanted a sandwich. Sorry.”

At this point I really just shut out the universe. pretty sure I said, “it’s fine” at least ten times.

He asked me if I wanted him to go get more. It was after 8pm at this point. No, it’s fine. Are you sure. It’s fine.

He went to his room was gone for a few minutes, and came out dressed for public (meaning not shorts) and said, “I’ll be back.”

Where you going? To get Turkey. I said it’s fine. Are you sure? It’s fine. I’ll figure out something else or I’ll buy lunch. It’s fine.

You know, I understand the kid was hungry. I understand that even I have forgotten to put stuff back in the refrigerator (RIP giant bag of frozen broccoli). We all do forgetful things, and we also have to feed the children.

But he ate my chicken, when he had or was making his own dinner. He’s not trying to lose weight or eat healthier (going all day and not having anything but off brand slim fast and Quaker chewy bars isn’t healthy either).

I’m alone in this. I’m doing it by myself. Just me and a stupid app that reminds me that even if I think the food I’m making is healthy, it is in fact not. Because of all 9,000 things that have to be taken into account.

If I didn’t just THOROUGHLY LOVE FOOD, if my emotions and eating were not lovers who slow danced from dawn to dark, if I didn’t crave the most delicious gawd awful unhealthy delicacies, then losing weight would be a cakewalk.

But two days ago I had Mexican food, real Mexican food, because I was having a stressful day and craved that polo bandito, and a large Pepsi. Tonight I had Taco Bell. And you know what, the first thing I’m gonna eat when I finally give up the charade of this “Spite Diet” is most of a little Caesar’s hot and ready pepperoni pizza. And I’m going to have some kind of enormous delectable ice cream dessert.

That six pounds I lost two weeks ago, well it’ll be back. Like Arnold Swartzenegger in that terminator movie. Even if I don’t quit, even if I improve my eating, and change my lifestyle completely. Because I’m not made for success. I’m built for failure. Like a structurally unsound tower made from off brand Lego bricks from the reject bin.

Why am I even doing this? To live longer? For my pants for fit better? To be able to work an eight hour shift without wanting to remove my own feet?

None of those things. Who wants to live a long life in this world? most of mg pants fall off me right now anyway, losing weight will make it worse. And the damage is already done to my feet and ankles.

No, I started this last month to prove to a doctor I see once a year that I can lose weight without taking an injectable diabetes once a month. I did it to spite that doctor. To prove her wrong. And all I’m getting out of it is depression and cravings for food I can’t have.

I’m not a happy person anyway, and this is not helping.

Relax he doesn’t read this