Argument with himself tonight - Love can be a real pain in the ass

I really hate it when we argue. We both have this ability to put a really sharp edge on our tongues. We don't say hateful things to each other, we just.. get snippy and sarcastic. And I hate it.

You would think after 21 years, we would manage not to feed off of each other's bad moods. Tonight it started with his bad mood, and I responded in kind, and next thing we knew, he's stomping to lay down on the couch, and I'm up for the rest of the night unable to sleep, so I rescheduled my doctor appointment which was later this after noon, for a week from now, because no way I'll be able to stay awake long enough to get to my 4PM appointment, but I'm not going to be able to sleep for hours yet.

We've already apologized to each other, and he's back in bed where he belongs. Our arguments never last more than 15 or 20 minutes. They flare up fast, and they die down fast. But man, they suck when they happen.

My old neighbor in California, Adeline, told me that in 42 years of marriage, she and her husband, Art, had NEVER argued or fought or even disagreed.

I wish I knew THAT trick.

I look at the life we have built, the kids we have raised, the many many MANY trials and joys we have weathered, and I know that even with the occasional spat, I would not trade this man for the world.

But earlier tonight, I would have gladly strangled him.

New wedding ring

I decided that since I had to replace my engagement ring with a smaller size, I should do the same with my wedding ring. My rings are sterling, and not at all expensive. My engagement ring cost me $19, and my current wedding ring was $8.

Current ring is very plain, a simple silver band. I decided I wanted something a little fancier, so I found a $10 sterling silver Celtic knot band on Amazon that I positively love. It arrives on Tuesday. The pic at top of this post is the new ring. 

And here's the engagement, in case you don't remember it. I think they'll look amazing together.

Could a truce really be happening?

I am cautiously optimistic that the woman I have been battling with for two months and I are reaching a peace. Check the post and comment thread.

https://acceptingpeopleforwhotheyare.blogspot.com/2025/09/my-response-to-bubblybackwashs-comment.html

If you actually READ the damn thing...

 

Ozempic is NOT for me!

I finally sorted out why I've felt so damn sick for the last four months. I figured this out tonight.

I've been getting headaches almost daily, some of them migraine. I've been dizzy and disoriented. And damn, have I been TIRED! I wake up after a ten hour sleep feeling fatigue into my BONES. Absolute exhaustion. 

Additionally, my abdomen has been a bit painful at times, my vision has been blurring now and then, I've been shaky, I've had a lot of nausea and constipation (which I THOUGHT was a gastroparesis flare, but now I'm thinking that my GP was triggered by what is going on), and incredible dry mouth.

Turns out ALL of that is a side effect of Ozempic. And I increased my Ozempic dose from .5mg to 1.0mg four months ago, and then this shit all started.

So it looks like Ozempic and my body just do not get along. I took my weekly dose this morning, but that's the last damn dose I'll ever be taking. And I need to talk my insurance company into letting me see a nutritionist to work out a healthy weight loss program. They've told me several times they don't pay for that. Fuckers. Maybe I can convince them, though.

I want my energy back.

Gramma - An Historical Overview

My grandmother, Mary Thomas, was born in 1906 and when I think of everything she witnessed and experienced it just boggles my mind. Her family had kerosene lanterns and wax dip candles for light, chamber pots under the beds and an outhouse. Hauled water by the bucket to heat on the wood stove for baths. Almost everything they ate they grew on the farm, pretty much. They read books for entertainment, because radios didn't become available until 1920, and even then, a poor farmer could not afford one, or the batteries. Great grandpa had two mules and a wagon, and now and then they would take the twelve mile trek to the nearest town to buy staples. The trip took about two hours each direction, so it was a rare thing.

In those days, young women on their periods used rags, or hand sewn pads that they would pin into their underpants and then wash after use. There were no tampons. No Kotex. I remember Gramma being rather horrified to discover that I was using tampons when I was 15. She thought it would take away my virginity. My virginity had not been an issue for about a year by then, but I did not tell HER that.

When Gramma died in 1998, people were spending entire days chatting with strangers on the internet over on the other side of the globe. People were starting to carry a telephone in their pockets. My uncle, with whom she lived, commuted 50 miles each way to his job in his Toyota pickup truck every day, a trip that would have been unthinkable with a mule cart.

And then all the history that happened. Two world wars. The great depression. The rise and fall of the Soviet Union. Numerous presidents. The Civil Rights struggle. Women getting the vote and slowly gaining something that is just NOW starting to resemble equality in the workplace and the world. Vietnam, Korea, the Gulf War, and all of the little undeclared wars we've had our sticky fingers in. FLIGHT! Man on the Moon. Explosion of Space Shuttle Discovery. Television. The cold war and the arms race. And the disarmament of the nuclear stockpiles. I know she breathed a sigh of relief over that one. I wonder if she ever just looked at all the changes going on and wished things would just SLOW DOWN a little. I wonder if she ever paused to ponder just how much was happening and how amazing it was to be alive to see it all. She was pretty amazing, so I am rather certain she marveled at what she saw happening, and cheered for any sane progress we made.

How do you do, I see you've met my...

I have never been the kind of person who wears makeup every day, or even every week or every month. I don't think I've used any makeup since my son Ian's wedding three years ago, to be completely honest.

All of the makeup I own has gone manky, crumbly, melty, scary looking. Today I threw it out.

As a teen, I used Wet and Wild, which had every item they sold priced at a dollar. The quality was about as you'd expect, but hey, I could afford it! As an adult, I used to buy expensive cosmetics. Mary Kay, Sephora, etc, for those rare times I would wear it. And I would buy it ALL: Foundation, concealer, powder, three dozen shades of eye shadow, blood red lipstick, two shades of blusher, brown pencil eyeliner and black/brown mascara.

I knew how to use the stuff, and had a pretty good hand with the makeup brush. I liked the result and how I looked in it. I did not like the fuss and bother involved. The twenty minutes in front of a mirror, the serious skin care needed every day to prevent damage to the skin due to cosmetic use, the witch hazel scrub every night to remove the makeup and dry the zits the crap caused if I used it daily.

Lately, my lips have been chapping for some reason. It's annoying, and I was about to buy some chapstick when I remembered how very much I hate the taste of the stuff. So I bought a couple of 98 cent dark blood red lipsticks instead. Because I wanted to.

I won't be using any other cosmetics, can't be arsed. But I look forward to the arrival of my FrankNFurter red lipsticks. :)

Labubulla, Pukemon, Cabbage Bitch Babies, and Fucko Pops

I do not understand these weird ass trends. Beanie Babies. Pokemon cards. Pogs. Furby.

I don't understand why people clamor for the latest fad. I have collected Funko Pops, but not because they were popular, and I have never in my life sought out "rare" Funkos for collectible value. I just buy ones like Mister Rogers and Iron Man, because I like those guys. I have a Larry Bird Funko that is my favorite in my collection. It cost me $12, and is worth about $3 because (bad me!) I took it out of its box. I unbox ALL of them. Because this is for ME to enjoy, not for being hoarded. I recently gave away a bunch of my Funkos as my tastes have changed and I have run out of shelf space what with all my tchotchkes of various types.

I even had a couple of Beanie Babies, a little grizzly bear, and a rottweiller. And I tore the tags off them. :P It's not about monetary value. I see NO point in buying something and hiding it away to keep it pristine for future value.

And yes, I have a few albums full of the enamel pins I have purchased over the years. I use them on my purse and my denim jacket, and switch them out sometimes for a change. They're just bands and shit I like, not valuable.

In 1995, I knew a woman who paid $120 for a Charizard Pokemon card, thinking it would become really really expensive and eventually pay her daughter's college tuition. You can buy a mint condition one on eBay right now for $30. Oops.

In 1985, people were screaming for Cabbage Patch kids, and spending $3-400 for them on the secondary market. Now, on the secondary, you can get one new in box for $180. Still a lot, and not worth it. That stupid doll is NOT going to pay for your retirement some day, dipshit.

My first husband's best friend paid $500 in 1987 for a statuette of Bob Hope holding a golf club. He kept it in the box, in a plastic bag under his bed for security, because he was certain it would be worth thousands of dollars after Bob Hope finally croaked. I've never heard a word about the thing since the one time he showed us the box, but I am thinking it is worth maybe $50 now. (Just checked eBay. $45.)

I don't understand collecting for status. If you LIKE something, why would you not put it out where you can enjoy and use it? Make it make sense!

Apple Cider Memories

This is the SHIZNIT!

I used to go apple picking in Amherst every autumn. Then we would go to our friend's farm in Shutesberry where he had an old fashioned wooden cider press, and make the best fucking cider!

Those were marvelous days. Cool crisp air, but warm sun. Leaves beginning to turn. Apples heavy on the trees. Macintosh, of course. Climbing orchard ladders and choosing apples without worm holes, because I'm fussy like that. Laughing with my Dad and our friends. Then back to Robert Brown's farm, where we would throw all the apples into the press and take turns cranking the press down to squeeze the juice out of the apples, leaving a pulpy mess behind that Robert would feed to his pigs.

Then into the farmhouse with the fresh pressed cider, toss some into a soup pot with some cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, and sit around the fireplace drinking hot mulled cider, eating fresh popped popcorn, and more laughter and love and fun. Those were absolutely great times and I sorely miss them.

Can't get good cider in Texas (OR Macintosh apples!). All the cider they have looks and tastes just like regular apple juice. Here's a pic:

Apple Juice. That is all.

I miss that thick and pulpy tart brown cider. Man, that's the stuff!

I mean, we DO hate him, but...

Live your life in such a way that if an escalator stops, you don't assume it's because people hate you.