Friday Fluff N Stuff

Let me preface this post: I have been drinking hot toddies tonight like they are going out of style.  Part medicinal (I am nursing a wicked cough), part I feel like I can loosen the hell up.  My Kiddo, my pride and joy, is staying with my parents for the next few days (relax! I'm not ditching him for Christmas).  

 

BK (before Kiddo) I was (what I consider) a functioning, depressive alcoholic.  Drinking was a way for me to self medicate for the fact that I was in my rape victim mode for 6 years, whereas now I am the survivor/not-a-victim/balls-to-the-walls/kicking-ass-stigma-buster.  Now when I choose to have an adult beverage, I do so in severe moderation (I'm usually toasted by 3/4 of a beer) and I don't feel like I have to hide. 

 

Anyhoo, I stumbled across this hilarious Holiday Post from Seeking Elevation (what up, YO!) and decided to link up.

 

Inappropriate responses to follow. . .

 

PS. Don't tell Becky and Ben that I'm using ellipses.  They hate that shit.  Plus I am double spacing!

 

Friday Fluff

It's time for the Fluff of Friday.  It's the Holiday Edition, yo.  And I think the way I'm meant to answer these is as a would you rather this or that kind of thing.  Here goes:

Get kissed under the mistletoe or in the snow?
Make out under the mistletoe (What?  It's been 3 friggin years since anyone kissed me!)

Santa or Rudolph?
Rudolph.  Santa was a dick to him in the 1964 TV show.

Stocking or presents?
 Presents.

Egg nog or hot cider?
  Like I said above.  Hot toddy.

Angel or star?
  Cheap, from Wal-Mart star that would look fitting on a pimp's Christmas tree.

Decorating the tree or putting lights on the outside?
  It's kinda hard to decorate the tent I'm living in.

Warm cozy fires or sleigh rides?
I burned down my college dorm room, so I am all about THE FIRE. 

Family time or friend time?
Ummm...Plead the 5th.

Expensive presents or presents that come from the heart?
From the fucking heart.  Last asshole I was with decided that I wasn't excited enough when he bought me a friggin $800 bracelet.  I'm sorry, jack fuck, I was too fucking shocked to think that anyone could afford to spend that amount of money. Sorry I didn't jump up and down like the bimbos on the commercials.

Snow ball fight or snowman?
Snow-wrestling.  Much easier to make out.

Coal or present?
I can burn coal I suppose. . .

Open presents quick or slow?
Slow.  No one likes a quick draw McGraw.

Caroling or christmas stories?
  Stories, as evidenced of my son reading "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

Snowy days or ice days?
Today it was fucking 80 degrees outside.  I'm lucky if I drops below 75 on Christmas day.

Red or Green?
Fire Engine Red.  Like the color of my pretend future wedding gown.

The Kiddo Does Dr. Seuss

My darling little Kiddo wanted to read "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" for his Aunt Kathy, who is far off in VA. I have to share; memories like this are too precious not to share. 

Justin Beiber Is A Sign The 4 Horsemen Have Arrived

Just when I've thought I've seen every frigging stupid toy (Hello, Pictionary! When I was a kid we used a pen and some paper. What's with hooking yourself up to a TV screen and doodling on a smart pad) out on the Christmas saturated market, something else comes along to replace my blown brain cells. 

So when I caught site of the Justin Beiber real hair doll, I knew that the Apocalypse is only weeks away.  Apparently if you get tired of doing your own hair you have the freedom to mess with The Beiber's tresses. 

It can only get worse from here, so I've been told.
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In other non-sarcastic news, December 8 has always been a big deal for me since 99.  It was 12 years ago this day that I got the courage, strength, and Heavenly guidance to escape an abusive relationship.  A chain of events were set into motion that I can only attribute to Heavenly Assistance which ended 4 months of hell on earth. 
I was going to get super deep and emotionally vivisect that time, but I'm too friggin tired and frankly don't want to go there now.  I've got those demons out.  The people closest to me know what happened and how I believe that night 12 years ago was a make it or break it night.  So as I say my prayers as I drop off to sleep, I'll send up an extra thanks to the BVM.  I've never had a close relationship with her, as I'm more of a Magdalen type, but I am forever grateful.
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To date, which is 3.5 wks, I have lost 6 lbs. Which is a huge boost to my ego and confidence about kicking this weight to the curb.  But really when someone tell me that I'll go back to being "your old gorgeous self" after I lose XX number of pounds, it takes all of my willpower not to reply, "Bitch plz!"

*If Zombies Are Real Then I Want F. Scott Fitzgerld To Go After "The Great Gatsby 3D"

Redford. Hot then, pretty damn good looking still.

For the love of tea and crumpets, why in the name of Lay's Potato Chips would someone greenlight a remake of The Great Gatsby? In 3 fucking D?

I'm beyond flabbergasted.  Actions movies, space movies, movies about human-animal hybrids having sex with their tales--fine do it in 3D.  It'll cover the fact that the plot holes are so big the national debt could fit through it. 

I'll be there with popcorn when Fitzgerald comes back to gnaw the brains out of those involved in this hack job.  But I will not be wearing the 3D glasses.

PS-Maybe if I got more sleep I would see this as humorous instead of sending me into a pissy hissy fit.  I apply the same feeling towards "healthy" junk food.  No, I don't want to see that my Lucky Charms provide me with 9 grams of fiber.  (Not that I believe that.)  Nor do I want to hear that the trans-fats have been removed from my Oreos.  THEY DON'T TASTE THE SAME ANYMORE. 
Please powers that be, stop fucking with the classics.  Now hand me that stick of butter while I enjoy my first editions. 

*Alternately titled "Caroline Is On A Diet And Needs A Xanax Donut" 

Finding The Pulse On The Trigger Point--Or--Hooray For PTSD!

So today I had a fantabulous flashback that came out of nowhere.  Really I don't understand how can my brain jump from fold box flap A into flap B, stack in alternating patterns, to being back in a frightening place, walking alone across a dark windy campus.  I was crying, more like sobbing.  I remember two friends coming across me trying to ask why I was so upset.  I couldn't answer; the words wouldn't come.

But the memory stopped there.  I wasn't going to allow myself to wander down those dark paths again.

I don't know what set me off.  There wasn't any music playing.  I wasn't uncomfortable with my surroundings.  So strange.  

I'm just proud of myself for becoming aware of what was going on in my head and I was able to short circuit that mess.  I don't give myself enough credit for being strong and amazing, but damnitall I am! 

And now once again, that it is nearing midnight, I should really contemplate going to bed.  I know I'm going to hate myself in the morning for staying up this late, but I had to get these words out.  But I had to watch Psych first.