Go away.

Don't you hate those people that turn every situation into something that revolves around them? You tell them a story about something that happened in your day, and they feel compelled to not only NOT comment on your interaction, but try to TOP it with a story of their own, ending in how great they are?

That's why I think I like my blog so much, i can make it all about myself, and not really care about anyone else's take on it.

Sometime, however well intentioned you might be, you find weirdo's on the internet that tend to think that just because they read your most intimate thoughts, that they somehow KNOW you. They form some sort of weird attachment and relate it to caring about you.

These are the type of people that scare me. (I also throw those that tell me their full medical history within 2 minutes of finding out I'm in medicine into this category.)

The reason I have this blog is because a reader of the old blog crossed the line. Their comments only reflected how self absorbed they were, and their "my story beats yours" attitude took the tranquility of my blog away from me. So I left the old blog cold turkey, started a new one, and LOW AND BEHOLD, it looks like I have a little internet stalker peering over my shoulder and reading things about my life again. (thank you site meter)

How this person found me, i don't know. All I know is that it's scary, that I don't want anything to do with them. They've begun to haunt blogs I use to read, send me nasty little e mails, and for the life of me I don't understand WHY THEY DON'T JUST GO AWAY.

Anyway, if I end up dead in a gutter and this blog goes dead again, you'll know why. They're just as bad as CP - and i think that even he's given up.

PSA

I guess this post has been a long time coming. I'm so good at dealing with everyone else's problems rather than mine... I am the queen of denial. If I don't talk, see, deal with it - it's not happening right? But if my best friend's father she hate's dies... I'm there for her, if the grandmother she rarely spoke to dies, I'm there for her... if her best friend growing up's father dies... I'm there for her. But somehow - things always hit home and you see things much differently.

PSA is the antigen used in screening for prostate hyperplasia or carcinoma. In normal talk when someone's PSA is elevated that means either the person just has a big prostate (that should be carefully watched) or cancer. Anything more than 4 means an enlarged prostate with a chance of carcinoma, anything above 10 has a 50% chance of being cancer.

My grandmother has been very sick for some time. She's been in and out of the hospital, and even had a scary trip to the ICU while I was in basics. My grandfather has retired and where he use to have her waiting on him (she was sooooooo cute the way she'd plan out his day, have food waiting for him, doing his laundry) he is now running the house.

They had/have the perfect marriage, perfectly happy in their roles. She stayed home, cooked, cleaned, never even had a drivers license, he took care of everything outside of that. He has never once complained the role reversal, of her being sick, of having to dress her, has learned to cook (after watching her for 60 some years) and listens to her nagging while he fumbles to organize the millions of pills he has to give her for her heart.

We have never questioned whether he could survive without her. I dreading her death have distanced myself. Writing about this, and even thinking it usually brings upon tears (which is no bueno in the library while I'm studying for boards... but procrastination is a bitch) which I push away by what? not thinking about it. But about a month ago I had a nightmare while spending the night at navy's house:

Navy: "WAKE UP!"
Me: *grumble* "whaaaaatrudoing"
Navy: "You're crying"
Me: *snuggle*
Navy: "You ok?"
Me: *groggy* "Grampather..."

I don't remember this interaction. He told me about it when he e mailed me from work the next day, I do however remember the dream:

Some man (who was not my real grandfather) told me and my cousins (who were not my real cousins) he was going to die. I started bawling as he started giving valuables to my cousins, in turn not giving me anything. He looked at me and told me I already had my present and pointed to a old watch on my arm - at which point I think navy woke me up.

(I keep having to pause because I'm crying so if this blog doesn't have it's normal fluidity I'm sorry)

The next morning I get a message from my mother: "Call me ASAP"

I call her back during a study break and tell her about my dream. She sits there quietly and tells me my grandfather has prostate cancer, and that he's gifting me with his restaurant. Then she proceeds to ask me everything I know about it. I ask the usual questions trying to figure out it's severity and kick in doctor mode. I made her think it wasn't as bad as it was presenting her with the facts. He's over 80, if it hasn't metastasized it's not that bad, blah blah. Then I hung up the phone, and cried.

I cried all day, and then I stopped - and never thought about it again.

Except for the weekend when we went to tell him at his house.

I was FUMING. HOW DARE THE DOCTOR BREACH CONFIDENTIALITY AND EXPECT HIS FAMILY TO TELL HIM. The doctor had told my aunt, who told my father she wasn't going to tell him, to which my father turned around and told my grandfather. I went with the family that weekend and ate the lunch my grandfather had prepared under my grandmothers watchful eye. But I honestly couldn't take it and made an excuse about having to get back to studying and left. My father told him shortly after, he described the scene to me as this:

I went to the kitchen while we were cleaning up and told him softly. He just nodded his head and told me not to tell your grandmother.

This of course had me in tears again because of how brave he was trying to be, he was scared if my grandmother knew she'd give up. If he died she would be sure to die.

BTW, I NEVER cry, unless I'm angry... :)

I grew up with a very close family. I love my parents (yes, even my overbearing mother) and I love my grandparents (I call them mom and dad). They have and will always be the closest things to me. To lose someone that close scares the shit out of me. Due to his age and etc, apparently his treatment isn't too bad - but I don't trust anything the family says until I can see his medical records and figure out the grade of the cancer and etc.

He's given me access to his medical records but... I just can't bring myself to sort through it. I keep using my boards as an excuse. I have too much stuff to review, too little hours in a day, I need to meet so and so, fix something, anything so that I don't have to sit down and figure things out.

Regardless, this is my post to myself telling myself my grandfather has cancer, that he is strong, that he willl fight through it, and no matter what weird dreams say he will not die anytime soon, and that everything will be ok.

Voldemort

My roommate is 30. She's 30, has a very pretty face and big bones, and is single. No that doesn't mean she'd fat - because she'd not fat... she had big bones.

This means she's depressed and has no self confidence.

I didn't mind her in basic sciences, she kinda kept to herself and seemed to know her shit. That meant she'd be a good roomie right?

... right

Well when I got back to town, navy and I were still in that weird mode where I didn't know what to do with him, didn't want him touching me in public, and was debating if it was ok to give guys that asked my number. Unfortunately all these experiences were done while my roommate was around.

She would tell me how great navy was, if I looked nice that day, and etc. Then the compliments got weird... she would tell me how great I looked in jeans ("my ideal weightloss goal is to look like you in jeans!"), while walking around if a car honked or someone whistled she'd always mutter that it must be for me, and she wouldn't even speak to navy when he'd come up for the weekend.

She wanted a man - it was very clear that this was her only way to find happiness (and she couldn't stop talking about this ass she was dating during basics, and swore he worshipped her... *snicker*). So I found her one. I set her up with three different guys I knew.

One was ipod guy (he bought me an ipod and we'd only dated for 2 weeks) - his unhealthy jump into relationshipness made him a great candidate for my desperate for a relationship roomie.
Next was AW, who I've known since I was 13 and he was 19. I had the BIGGEST crush on him back then. He was smart, an english teacher, and... older.
Finally there was Voldemort who we collectively named later.

Anyway, I tried to set things up with ipod guy only to realize he was trying to make a play for me - and cut that out real quick. AW wasn't interested because he had a couple of girls he was already juggling and said my roomie was boring, and finally... voldemort, who recently broke up with a mutual friend 2 weeks prior, took the bait - and my roomie was out of my hair.

BUT WAIT!

Apparently Voldemort has a little anger problem, and when going back to his old apartment (after already beginning his proceedings with roomie) decides that he's going to call his ex-live-in-girlfriend all types of names, which makes my best friend jump in tell him to back off, and ends with my best friend being shoved against the wall at such a force that she (2 months later) still has signs of inflammation on her knee and elbow, and a scar from the corner she hit on her neck. *breath* (if that isn't a run on, i don't know what is).

Technicalities of the encounter included the fact that my best friend shoved him first... but she was still pretty beat up from a shove he gave back to her and will have a nasty scar on her neck for a very very long time.

Anyway, I tell my roomie this little encounter, but since they've been talking for a whopping 4 days, she's already completely in love and doesn't care. I take myself out of the situation and stay neutral. Best friend hates him, roomie fucking him, no bueno.

Anyway, while they were together she was fine to live with. She was always on the phone with him at night, the weird comments regarding how I looked stopping, and it wasn't weird when navy would come up to visit because either her man would be there, or she'd be down in DC at his place.

Here's the problem: On friday he dumped her.

UGGGGGGGGGGGH!

Apparently she was too controlling and got jealous of him hanging out with his friends or something. I DON'T CARE, he's crazier than her and the fact that he even got (especially while he was going through all this BS with shoving my friend) her to deal with all his shenanigans was mind blowing.

Now I have to hear her talk about how much she misses him, and she gets all teary eyed at times, and oh yeah - one day we went to a concert and she starts bawling right in the middle of it because she and him and gone there once...

UGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not to mention she'd being very snappy, and I don't give a shit who you are - you don't snap at me for random reasons.

Things running through my head:
-You're 30 damn you, you should know better than to have let him get in so quickly!
-You're 30 damn you, stop acting like you're 19
-Stop crying
-Stop SNAPPING AT ME before I punch you
-Stop telling me how one time he stopped and kissed you at every single light post because you don't like PDA
-Stop asking if you're crazy
-Stop asking me to ask navy to ask him things
-Stop telling me that same stories over and over
-Stop reading me the e mails he's sent you
-Stop STOP STOP!!!!!!!!!!

All this has built up since sunday night. Yes that's right. I went home from visiting navy to her depression sunday night - I moved back into my parents last night. I think it was about 24 hours before I booked it. (lease is up in august anyway)

SHE WAS DRIVING ME CRAZY!

So I told her to start blogging. To re-read the shit she needs to deal with instead of telling people (me), and to suck it up and move on. I also told her that her little fantasy of him calling her and her denying him was probably never going to happen and put money down that if it did she'd take him back in a heartbeat. I told her she wasn't allowed to use his name anymore, and she made the harry potter reference ("he who shall not be named") = voldemort = funny... ha ha.

Anyhoo, keep a lookout for a break-up blog, it'll be good.

Am I a horrible person?

Last night I went to walmart and due to many people's stupidness I was in line for a whopping 30 minutes. My definition of stupidness includes:

- Buying a year's worth of walmart gear at one time and checking out with roughly 3 carts that were overflowing, but price-checking almost everything to make sure it wasn't too expensive.
- Checking out a family with 3 cart's worth of gear and taking your sweet as time scanning everything while checking out things they're buying.
- Being the manager of a walmart knowing there's a line around THE FUCKING CORNER of people waiting for these dumbasses, and not opening extra registers.
- Hitting cash instead of debit on something or another that I didn't care to overhear and spend 15 minutes talking it out with the manager with employee's stopping by to see what happened WITHOUT OPENING ANOTHER REGISTER!!!

Regardless another register FINALLY opened, and I was one of the few who made a mad dash to make it there.

Now, throughout this very annoying and time consuming experience, there was a short very fat lady in front of me. She was obviously not very well off, missing a couple of teeth, and her cart consisted of a couple DVD's, crackerjacks, a CD and 2 packs of peanut-butter m&m's. She was also very obviously in distress because like the rest of us, she was standing in the FREAKING line for 30 minutes. So I struck up a conversation with her.

I've realized people decide who they can and can't talk to based on initial judgements. She seemed shocked that I was cracking jokes in her general direction, and tried to counter back by showing me the CD in her cart, asking if I'd ever heard of the random duo. "I haven't", I answered, "I usually download music on my ipod." "Oh," she muttered back "I don't have onna 'dem, only got me a por-ta-ble C-D player"

I ended up hopping lines one more time, and when I saw I was about to get to the front I went back to the old line and offered her the spot in front of me. She was grateful, then muttered something about hoping not to miss the bus.

Instantly my anti-beggar radar went off and I automatically thought she was trying to bum a ride from me. So I ducked my head cursing myself for being nice to her, and I didn't say anything as she got her things and left. I hightailed it out of there after I FINALLY CHECKED OUT THE 4 ITEMS I NEEDED TO BUY and jumped in my car hoping she wouldn't somehow see me and ask me for a ride back into the city.

But then I saw this while driving out of the parking lot:
She had taken her cart and was using it for support to make it to the end of the parking lot. Then she stopped short, put the cart in it's designated position and continued walking (obviously in a lot of pain, and she was so fat she kind of waddled - making even walking look painful). I realized she'd never intended to ask me for any type of hand out, she was just venting like we'd been doing earlier.

So I rethought my initial judgement and started debating if I should slow down and offer her a ride. Then I thought this and realize I am, indeed, a horrible person:

"With her BMI as high as it is, I'm sure walking would be better for her than me picking her up and driving her back into the city."

...then I felt like shit again and couldn't stop thinking about it.

GAH!

Alli - Day 1

Since coming back to the states I have gained a whopping 10 pounds. Granted, I have been going to the gym, everyone around me tells me they can't tell (my mother says my face is rounder and you can see it around my butt), and navy lectures me telling me I should know muscle weighs more than fat, but non the less it's starting to get to me.

My theories on the recent weight gain:
- I started birth control again, because my body needed to be put back on a normal cycle after that horrible depo shock (never ever ever ever get a depo shot, they make you go crazy!)
- The hormones in the food here are different (I BARELY eat compared to out of country, what the hell)
- MAYBE, it's muscle... maybe...

Anyhoo, I'd still like to be toned and that requires a loss in mass.

SO! Recent news told me orlistat was on the market. A drug that I have learned about, and know first hand is prescribed to fat people (no offense) in hospitals. YAY!

Technically you're not supposed to take the drug if you're not overweight... which... I'm not, BUT I feel that they're just saying that so people who are anorexic won't take it.

Therefore, yesterday was my first day (even though I made this day one)

I bought the starter kit for a whopping 60 bucks (90 pills - 60 mg) which came along with a ton of things like:
1. Keys to successful weight loss (everything we already know)
2. Welcome guide (everything we get, and online support)
3. Portable quick fact pocket guide (nothing special)
4. Companion Guide (goals, dosage, use, side effect)
5. Healthy eating guide
6. Calorie and fat counter
7. Daily journal

Anyway - it's stuff I already know, but then again, I do want to tone up and lose this 10 pound excess that has started to cling to me if not more. Side effects are gross and include oilish discharge and uncontrollable bowel, but that's only for people who chow down on really greasy meals with loads of fat. HELLO CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!

Anyhoo, I'm not going to turn my blog into a weight-loss blog, but I'll tune in every now and again if:
- I see no difference in weight while exercising and etc.
- I have any side effects to note
- If I think it's working.

Goal: get back down to my weight in sophmore year of college.

Ready, set, GO!

For more info on alli, you can go to their website or read this little doosy: clicky

Move over Beckham

Though my infatuation with David Beckham is quite apparent (well maybe not so much on this blog, but take my word for it), navy's obsession with baseball has introduced me to another hottie that makes me drool whenever I see him.

Navy doesn't seem to mind my drooling, as long as I attend and watch games with him -- but as he sat next to me today watching me prowl google he kept muttering "you can have him as your screen saver only if he's wearing an indian's jersey." I just laughed it off and kept showing him hot photo's of my new main man.

Grady Sizemore - hubba hubba.

Now for your enjoyment are photo's I've stolen from other sites showing is amazing hotness. Enjoy. (I am)
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