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WELL TAKE A GANDER AT THIS!

<a href="http://dailylifewithbipolar.blogspot.com/search/label/Peon%20Diaries"><img src="http://i993.photobucket.com/albums/af60/grafixwife1/Diary-button.png" alt="Peon Diaries" /></a>    



Isn't this the most beautiful thing you ever seen?  Look what CB done went and made!  Go over and tell her she is not getting royalties from the book sales what an amazing visionary she is!!!!


I had a super busy day today and I will detail that tomorrow along with posting a couple of awards I have gotten in recent days.  I am going to need a little something extra to occupy myself tomorrow because I will start Operation HopeIDon'tCuttaBitch aka stop smoking.  Cross your fingers but tune into the nightly news just in case!

The Peon Diaries~Chapter Two

Dear Diary,


Today was a great day!  I arrived at the castle to find that I had my first assignment.  I was greeted by Vera where she handed me my itinerary for the day.  I found it a bit odd that I was only given instructions for the one day; that such a lofty empire would not have activities scheduled weeks in advance.  Apparently, it has something to do with preventing a security breach. I will not know what my day's tasks will be until I arrive.  I guess that makes sense.  I can be flexible.  


Vera explained that I would be tending to the needs of the Princess today.  The Queen would be otherwise indisposed and unable to help the Princess with her charity project.  I am unsure what or where the Queen would be this day but I thought to myself for a moment...that gin most certainly isn't going to drink itself.  Perhaps she is passed out on a luxurious chaise while handsome migrant workers paint her toenails.


Vera showed me to a large room with several tables, a sewing area, paint easels and the like.  The Princess was sitting at one of the tables and she was wearing a bright orange smock that had some white stains on it.  I literally thought she was just sprung from the "big house" where she was released early for good behavior, hence the stains.  That ill impression was quickly erased when the Princess motioned me over to take a seat.  She began explaining the project.  Apparently, I was to help her with this.  Fall wreathes.  Oh my goodness, how I love working with a glue gun.  There was that one incident at that frat party with the hot glue and the testicles but there wasn't really a need for precision for that undertaking.  She went on to explain that she was making fall wreathes for the homeless.  HELLO?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Am I being Punk'd?  Ashton, where you at?  Where the fuck is a vagrant going to hang a wreath?  I know that she could read my thoughts because she went on to explain that they would be sold at the Town Fair and the proceeds would benefit the homeless.  I was just under the impression that she had been in the liquor cabinet before noon on a random Wednesday.

  
As we arranged and attached the foliage and ribbon onto the wicker circles, we did have a few moments of conversation.  She had mentioned that CB, whom I recall was the petite brunette from the sitting room on my first day, wasn't home.  She was attending a court-ordered anger management class.  I didn't press for details but, in all honesty, I was dying to hear the scoop.  I think if I play my cards right, I can get Vera to spill it.  


She mentioned that her true passion was hodgpodge or the modsquad. I am not sure what the hell she was talking about but I think it is a TV show.  I am going to research that in order to learn more about the Princess.  I figure the more I learn about the Royals the easier it will make my job.  I don't want to be caught off guard. 


She mentioned espionage and something about doing laundry through her garbled speech but by this time she had drank enough wine to fill an entire bathtub.  I think she has a catheter because the wench didn't pee once the entire time.  She wasn't making much sense so I am going to file that away as unneeded information until I get further corroboration.  Still, it makes me wonder what kind of back-alley, cockamamey bullshit is going on here.


I have the next two days off but I am still on-call for emergencies.  I need a break already and an ice pack for the glue burns on my fingertips.

Trudging Through

Bummed out.  That is the best descriptive.  Things are just moving along while I am trying to not pay attention.  It's always easier that way.  My sleep has been disturbed by fearful thoughts for going on a month now.  I am barely sleeping in my own bed because as soon as I lay down I start hearing strange noises and have to get up to "check it out".  I end up on the couch because it is halfway between all of the kids, you know, just in case. Logically, I know it is ridiculous but I cannot seem shake the feeling.  It has been a while since I started leaving the bathroom light on to light our room.  I used to never sleep with any lights on.  On the contrary, I used to not be able to sleep unless it was pitch black.  I am really thinking that I need to add an anti-anxiety med because it is getting out of hand.  


We were informed last week that beginning January the health insurance premium will be going up by $100 if you are a smoker.  Which we are.  I am now thinking what would be the best way for me to do this.  So many people I know have quit using that new drug Chantix but with terrible side effects associated with mood.  From what I understand it affects your "pleasure receptors" weaning you off so eventually it is not pleasurable to smoke.  It makes sense that it would throw someone like me into a deep depression.  No thanks!  I don't need any extra triggers.


I keep gaining weight.  I know that it is a side effect of my current medication but I have realized lately I have been eating to fill a void.  It's not that my stomach is empty, my heart is.  So as much as losing weight seems like a grand plan and an easy endeavor in my head, I have no desire to put it into action.   I am losing days.


I miss my friend.

The Peon Diaries~Chapter One

Dear Diary,


Today was the first day of my new job as a security guard.  I woke up a whole hour and a half early because of my excitement or anxiety, I am not sure which.  I haven't been this nervous since Maggie passed the love note to Jake on my behalf in eighth grade.  I am so glad that today turned out better than that trifling incident.  


I made sure that my uniform was pressed and my shoes were shined.  As I carefully applied my make-up, I thought to myself that I needed to make the best impression.  After all, this was The Royal Family I was going to work for and not some rinky-dink Maw and Paw's General Store.  I took one last look in the mirror for good measure and headed out the door.


The drive over was a long one as I kept going over in my head the way I would introduce myself.  When I finally reached the iron gates that divided the Royals from the regular folk, I was greeted by a security guard.  Security for the security, the Queen and her subjects will be in capable hands.  I surveyed the grounds that was a lush green. To either side of the walkway was row after row of grapes.  I spotted a large canister-type device that I immediately knew must be some kind of distilling machine.  Could this be a moonshine ring?  What on earth am I getting myself into?


Entering the castle, I looked around and was surprised by the decor.  It was not the steely blues and cold concrete walls as I had imagined. On the contrary, it was very warm and cozy.  Almost every room had been decorated in a lovely shade of pink.  While noone was looking, I quickly pulled the boy scout knife that my father had given me as a youngster and cut a swatch for my scrapbook.  They will never notice it is missing because I was smart enough to cut a piece from the behind the liquor cabinet.  From what I have observed, noone that matters even bends over to retrieve their own gin so mostly likely the missing piece of paper will never be found out.


I was given a full tour by Vera, the house manager.  She was a plump woman of probably 45 years.  She took me from room to room, all 27 of them, and explained that only she and the Queen had a master key.  The other Royals and servants had only certain keys that would unlock only some of the rooms.  The barkeep is the only person having access to the liquor cabinet.  It sounds funny calling it a liquor cabinet as it is actually more of a walk-in closet, the walls are lined floor to ceiling with mahogany shelving.  I have been to many a bar in my day and have yet to see so many bottles of booze. Vera explained the typical running of the day-to-day activities of the Royals and gave me some survival tips that were not mentioned in the 50 page employee handbook which I am supposed to memorize over of the course of the next few days. Vera is a very nice lady and seemed to really want to help me to learn the ropes.  Her breath is another story completely.  It smelled as if she were mouth fucked by a trash receptacle.  When the time is right I am going to mention this to the Queen.

I didn't actually get to meet any of the Royals today.  They must have all been busy self-medicating running an Empire.  I did however see three of them.  They were seated on a Victorian style sofa discussing an upcoming event.  I couldn't really hear all of the details from where I was standing but it seemed that it was going to be very regal.  The Queen and her loyal subjects were not dressed in the buttoned-up fashion that I had conjured in my mind.  To the contrary, it was rather redneck in contrast to the fancy, paisley wallpaper as the backdrop in the sitting room.  The Queen was wearing a tight fitting screen print tee that adorned the words "Trust me, I'm a Doctor" and holey jeans.  The Silicone twins were wearing white wife beaters and denim cut-offs.  Despite their ragged apparel, they were absolutely stunning.  My impression of what the "other half" lives like has been totally annihilated.   
I am going to make it my personal mission to befriend the dark-haired girl so that I can learn to apply my eyeliner like that.


Unlike other jobs that I have held in the past, the orientation was not very rigid.  I fully expected a training seminar or at the very least a few poorly made videos educating me of the dangers of bloodborne pathogens and proper lifting techniques.  According to the job description, there will be disorderly, drunken behaviors that I will be expected to clean up. I most certainly hope that I am issued an OSHA approved back brace and protective eye gear before I get into the "meat and potatoes" of this job.  I am not naive to the photos published in the tabloids.  I have seen The Royals in action.  Pictures don't lie.  


I am signing off now to begin what is mostly likely going to be hours of reading.  What a snore fest!  OH Dear Diary, what will tomorrow hold?


To read more about The Royals...

The Beginning of Fiction

Last weekish I asked everyone to go over to the Queen's blog to vote for me.  The results are in and I made the security team!  I haven't ranked third place in anything since that third grade spelling bee so needless to say I am super excited.  I am about to embark on a new journey of fiction writing.  I am not sure if I will suck at it or not but I would love your honest opinions.  


Click this link to acquaint yourself with the Royals so when you do see my first post you are not ready to call my Psychiatrist for fear that I am having Bipolar delusions not totally lost.


Thanks to everyone who put in a vote for me!!!

Fawk You and Blog Stalk Friday~Season Premiere

You know what time it is? It's Fawk You Friday and Blog Stalk Friday! What do you need to get off your chest this week?  Click the button to link up!

Here's mine....


Fawk you to the writers of Grey's Anatomy who for some reason always feel it necessary to orchestrate a script that makes me cry.  I don't care if Meredith is boo-hooing because her life is in a shambles.  What I take exception to is when you take a character like Bailey and make her make me cry.  It is too hard to watch a strong woman come unglued.  There better be some saving babies next week and that's all I got to say about that.


A serious FUCK YOU to the power company, heat wave, dude who hit a transformer or whatever the situation may be that caused a neighborhood outage smack dab in the middle of the season premiere of Private Practice.  I missed the most crucial 20 minutes of the effin' show!  (Does anyone know what happened with the dude's new kidney and how did the couple meet the surrogate?) 


Fuck you facebook for having piss-poor servers.  You went down for hours, I mean HOURS, today and it caused a seizure in my hand.


Fawk you to Katy Perry.  I don't have a problem with you sashaying your hot ass down Sesame Street in front of Mr. Snuffleupagas.  The problem arises when you proceed to flaunt your oddly sexy, googly eyes and opposable thumbs in front of Bert and Ernie.  They have had a hard life and are just now able to be open about their relationship.  Now they are going to start questioning their sexual orientation!

How To Get Unbroken

More and more, social networking sites are being blamed for the dissolution of marriages.  I think this is totally oversimplifying a bigger issue.  If you have reached out to someone...anyone, via MySpace, Facebook or some other social forum, the breakdown of your marriage has been happening for some time.  The breakdown of the marriage is not a result of a third party.  The union is broken because you are.  You have already reached the point that your confidence is nil, your self worth is in question and your happiness is a distant memory.  You have been beaten down emotionally, not enough to make you numb, yet enough to make you forget that some time ago you used to be a dynamic person.  Like a hungry man reaches for a piece of bread, you will reach out to anyone who will validate you.  It may not be the moral thing but it is the natural thing.  Humans need to be reminded of their value.




I know this because I was a "hungry man". 


It was winter 1994, bitterly cold.  I remember walking to the pay phone at the gas station, depositing what was most likely my last quarter in an attempt to escape the reality that had become my life.  With Danielle on my hip, I dialed my Mom's number.  Through my tears, I tucked my pride into the same pocket I had pulled that coin from.  "Can I come home?  I need to come home, I can't do this anymore." to which she replied, "No, I don't think that is a good idea, Sissy".  I said OK and placed the receiver on it's hook.  There was nothing else to say.  At this point, the affair was still going strong.  I concluded that if my own mother didn't think enough of me to save me from the emotional turmoil that there wasn't much worth saving in the first place.


Fast Forward to November 1997.  Before I met Beau online, I met Anthony.  Correction.  I chatted with Anthony.  He was from New Jersey.  I would talk to him in chat rooms and eventually on the telephone.  He made me feel alive again.  He made me feel important.  We would laugh.  He listened to me with compassion that even my own mother could not muster.  He was interested in me.  That means I must be interesting.  The idea had become so foreign.  He too had been cheated on by his ex-wife and left with a son to take care of because she had a terrible drug problem and abandoned them both.  Tommy never had a drug problem but he abandoned me so many times and took with him my personality.  He stole everything good about me and left me with an empty soul. 


I only talked to this man for maybe five weeks but what he did for my self esteem in that short time is immeasurable.  He made me realize that all of the negative and hurtful things that I have been told and told myself were not true.  I was smart.  I was funny.  I was pretty.  I was something. He gave me the strength to know that I could do it on my own.  When the opportunity arose that following January, I acted on it.  Tommy had a court date that he decided he would blow off resulting in a bench warrant.  I told him he would have to leave because I would not lie to the police for him.  It was that easy.  I didn't care where he went and I never second-guessed my decision.  After all of those years of heart-wrenching back and forth trying to break free from the spell he had over me, it was just over.  Just like that. 


I have learned that although some people may only come into your life for a fleeting moment their purpose for being there is no less important.

Let Them Eat Cake

Ask and you shall receive.  Sometimes.  If you have a great friend like I do, you would.

Donda My hormonal influx has reported that I need an entire chocolate cake. That's all.

Monday at 5:34pm  · Comment · 

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  like this.
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    I need one too...please!
    

    Monday at 5:35pm · 
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    Donda  I wish I had all the ingredients for an earthquake cake...it would be on!
    

    Monday at 5:36pm · 
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     I'm almosty done with a chocolate pie!
    

    Monday at 5:37pm · 
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    Donda  You're always cookin' it up...if you ever get rid of Parry I will marry you!
    

    Monday at 5:37pm · 
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     He baked it -not me!
    

    Monday at 5:40pm · 
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     I'm not almost done baking it-I'm almost done eating it-he made it for me last night!
    

    Monday at 5:41pm · 
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    I thoght of you the other night at walmart-they have edible markers that you can write on sandwiches, cookies or other things!
    

    Monday at 5:42pm · 
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     Really? I haven't seen those....I will have to check it out. What aisle?
    

    Monday at 5:44pm · 
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     over where the cake decorating stuff is-food coloring and icing tips and whatnot.
    

    Monday at 5:46pm · 
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     that sounds about right to me! My mood swings might be better monitored if I self-medicated with chocolate more often!
    

    Monday at 5:48pm · 
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    Donda  Thanks Tifaney! The more I think about it the more I am tempted to go get ingredients.
    

    Monday at 5:50pm · 
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     btw... what on earth is an "earthquake cake"?
    

    Monday at 5:51pm · 
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    Donda OMG It is chocolate heaven...I will post a link to the recipe...give me a minute.
    

    Monday at 6:05pm · 
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    Donda  http://www.cooks.com/rec/doc/0,166,145180-245207,00.html I put chocolate chips on top too. I also made this for Thanksgiving with a spice cake and white chocolate chips...it was really good too.
    

    Monday at 6:07pm · 
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     Thanks!
    

    Monday at 6:08pm · 
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     now I want earthquake cake...thanks alot Donda, I'm trying to lose weight here. ha,ha.
    

    Monday at 6:36pm · 
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    Donda  I want some too...thanks alot me!
    

    Monday at 6:37pm · 
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    you are so silly.
    

    Monday at 6:39pm · 
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     Me Too!!
    

    Monday at 7:53pm · 

    
    

So, later that night I am chillin' on the couch watching the Big C with Beau when I receive a text message that reads, "check your porch".

I know what you're thinking...not a crazy stalker.  I actually knew who the text was from.  My good friend, Jennifer.

Donda OMG I have been the unwitting victim of a drive-by caking!! Thanks Jennifer  I needed some chocolate covered in chocolate in the worst way!!! YOU ROCK!

Monday at 11:18pm  · Comment ·  · Share

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   like this.
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     Wow, what a nice friend!!
    

    Yesterday at 6:21am · 
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    Donda  YES, she is!!
    

    Yesterday at 7:16am · 

I call her back immediately and we proceed to talk for over an hour.  Not just about the cake but about everything and anything.  She is always good for a laugh.
This is the second time I have been hit by the Scone Ranger.  The first time it was this...

Disclaimer:  This is a filler post due to the aforementioned hormonal influx.  I did purchase those food markers and made cute, little flowers on the girls' sandwiches.  I did eat about half of that cake over the past two days.  Does anyone know what will eliminate the Crisco pockets off my ass/back?