January 7, 2002 I have rediscovered coffee again though. The last time I was this hooked on coffee was my last year in college where I was taking graduate/professional coursework, as well as finishing off my senior year of college while working nearly full-time. That time in my life sucked ass, but the coffee is still good, after all these years. Well, that and science has had the time to perfect the art of flavored creamers. Why did that time in my life suck ass, you ask? Well, aside from the grueling pressures of taking 16-19 units of courses as a senior in college and working and all that stuff, I'd decided to deal with abuse issues and had a week long stint in the hospital on suicide watch about a month before I graduated. I was a most unhappy creature. Victims of sexual abuse often are. I'd endured a great deal as a 19-23 year old and at the time I finally decided to look over that part of my life, I turned into a very sad person for a while. Antidepressants helped me a great deal and have helped here and there over the years, as I've slowly dealt with all that baggage. Of course, my family now believes I'm a fruit loop looking for a bowl, but that's ok. My parents have finally decided I've turned out okay, quirky as I am, due to my marriage and kids. My brother is listed dead last in my will in the lineup of guardians for my kids because I don't think much of his wife. Being that I am quite clear she doesn't think much of me and she uses an amazingly patronizing tone with me, like I'm about 4, I find contact with her uncomfortable, distasteful, and otherwise icky. Bill can't understand why everyone doesn't adore his wife. Well, she's a bitch. Always has been, always will be. Surprisingly enough, people in his life seem to know that as he seems to have all the friends. I've tried very hard to be nice and to be civil to her, but I am quite clear she and I will never ever be buds. I've also given up on her ever treating me like someone who's older than 4. I've been really tempted to mimic her tone back to her, but I know she'd get all offended and every time she gets offended, she sends my brother out to defend her lacking virtue. Wow, I am so stream of consciousness today. Pardon me, but I'm gonna digress more and you'll just have to cope. Neener neener neener. (SG, you may suck my wiener.) So yesterday, I did something I haven't done in about 13 years. (No, not that. I left all that kinky stuff behind me in my experimental and way-abused period.) I went skiing. We bought Russell ski lessons for Christmas and they offered cheap tickets to the parents. Mike and I figured this once, we'd get a babysitter and then we'll swap off weekends. We've both been all drooly and horny about our skis. I showed him how to wax and sharpen the edges on them. Mike thought I was very cool and handy, like always, and watched me carefully, so he could do it himself. I exude Redneck Ruby-ness. I really do. I had boots that didn't fit and have left ringed bruises on both shins. I had to stop when I felt the blister forming on my left big toe because foot sores and diabetics are a very bad mix. I was begging Mike to let me rent some boots but he pointed out that the half hour it would take to get the damned things fitted and paid for wouldn't make the last half hour of skiing worth it. When we took our lunch break at 3PM, I did have the good sense to take 800 mg of ibuprofen, which would explain why I could walk last night, albeit in excrutiating pain. Another dose of 800 mg of ibuprofen at 11PM would explain why I could walk this morning. I took one more run and if I could have limped and skied I would have. It was bad enough to where I was stopping at a lot of places on the mountain on the way down. It didn't help that the snow had gotten slushy so it was Olympic Giant Slalom fast and of course, slush is heavy, so I'm there going faster than spit and making my tired torn up legs dig me a lot of turns, so I didn't take out a snowboarding kid on the "family run." I'm sure there is probably nothing scarier to a 7 year old snowboarder than a 250lb old broad barreling down the hill toward him. When I got to the ski rack, I clumped up the stairs to the lockerroom. I got out of my boots and thought that my clogs with the big heel that always make my knees ache were the most comfortable shoes in the world. Mike, the big stupid man that he is, could barely move this morning and whined a lot. He refused to take the ibuprofen. Silly boy. Genny had a lovely day going to Mormon temple with the neighbors. I know I'll have to fix that brainwashing thing, but I figure I can confuse her with enough of my own when the time comes. When she gets to be 3, I'm sticking her in ski lessons and letting her learn the ropes...I mean slopes. And why am I back on coffee? Well, someone sent me something from work with the explanation that this piece wasn't bad at all. When people say that, I swear they're just screwing with you. That's like standing in the middle of a field in a heavy thunderstorm and saying,"I'm sure lightening won't strike." The first 10 pages have been a total nightmare and I've got 40 more to go! Being that whining doesn't pay the bills, I'm drinking coffee and ending this now.
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