twitch-gate
so twitchy has officially been with me for 6 months. if she were a baby, i'd be easing her into solid foods {oatmeal and rice- since they're more fiber rich and less constipating}, and introducing the sippy cup.
but she is not a baby. she is not something i birthed from the bliss of my happy marriage. nor did she stem from a deep need to create new life in the genetic ice blended of my husband and me.
this hooch just showed her unwelcome, irritating self in and up into my lower, right eyelid. she settled in, pulled up a chair, ordered a pizza, watched a little direct-tv, went through my clothes and made herself at home. and she's been there, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, save for a couple of hours, post mexican vacation bliss.
attempting to rid this unwanted houseguest, i went through a solid round of acupuncture. although soothing and calming, the needles were a bust. it was a bit confusing when my persian doctor would extol the merits of chinese medicine, but then tell me she was praying to jesus for my recovery. my meridians didn't know whether to make the sign of the cross, bow or kneel.
my potassium, magnesium, b-vitamin, and caffeine levels have all been checked too...i'm a big time supplementer as it is, but now, just for good measure, i'm a mega-supplementer. i'm my own GNC store these days. yet it's done nothing for the party bus in my eye.
two weeks ago, after a three-month wait, i finally was able to get in to see the wonder woman of eye specialty. doctor eye-fix-you-up was going to cease the six month mardi gras in lower right peeper.
as i was lead into the exam room i had to harness my deep, diaphragmatic breathing. i was excited and anxious. i was hopeful doctor-sight-for-sore-eyes was going to find twitchy a new home. i snuggled down into the large, vinyl reclining chair and waited to be cured.
three hours and 48 minutes later, i was still in the chair, still had not seen doctor-eye-have-better-things-to-do and was one month's salary poorer. rather than kill the wait time with the provided woman's day and runner's world magazines, i killed my bank account with ipad shopping. new shoes from net-a-porter, a doo-dad from 1st dibs and some potions from beautyhabit.com. i was getting confirmation receipts as well as s.o.s alerts from my bank wondering if my credit card had been stolen.
when doctor-eye-get-waiting-room-kickbacks-from-american-express finally appeared, i was so grateful for the shopping intervention, i couldn't get angry for the wait; and after all this was the woman who was about to work a miracle.
she shined blinding lights in my irises, checked my vision {20-15 thank you very much}, squirted some drops which made me cry, not tear, cry, and finished with 2 rounds of what felt like ping-pong paddles to my eyeballs. afterward, i had the disposition of declawed cat who had been given a cold, wet bath.
i was not a happy kitten. even with new fancy shoes coming in the mail.
dr. kiss-my-ass had determined that my twitch issue wasn't of a vision origin, and decided that the best solution was to inject botox into the trouble-making party. she also decided that somewhere down the line i should come back and get a "very simple, out-patient surgery, to remove the deep, puffy bags under {my} eyes."
doctor, you also should decide what kind of, in-patient, surgery you will need after i break your face!
although i was not exactly thrilled with the botox idea {a giant needle of botulism into my bottom eyelid?}, i signed the waiver agreeing to possible permanent disfigurement and loss of vision, betting my money {what was left} that this woman knew best.
in went the needle. i silenced my scream, but not my tears. twitchy did her version of a scream, and twitched in hammer-time. i actually felt a bit guilty for my 6-month old, baby twitch. doctor-i -hate-children told me the botox {did you know botulism means sausage in latin} takes a couple of days to take effect.
i stumbled out, hand covering my right eye, protecting my now beloved cub.
coming home, exhausted from the ocular rape, i fell into bed, and tried to nap my morning beating, to my bank account and my eye, away.
waking up, the first thing i felt was the absence of twitchy. she was gone! hand to cheek, that reverberation down my face had vanished. something felt strange though. was it just that i was so used to my eye fluttering, that "normal face" now felt odd. i ran to the mirror to check out my miracle:
yes, my twitch had fled my lower, right eyelid.
but the little minx had journeyed her way up to my upper, left brow.
awesome.
it has been three-plus weeks post socket assault. bitch twitch continues her artist in residence status. she's partial to my lower, right barker lounger, but occasionally spices it up in the high, left loft.
i'm at a loss. i go back to doctor-my-numbing-cream-sucks in september. stay tuned.
monday happy m'loves.
it's not me, it's you.
here we are, face to face, couple of silver spoons.
me and coffee cup.
it's that time again.
my annual break-up.
as with every tenuous, co-dependent, abusive relationship, one party eventually reaches their threshold with the highs and lows, ups and downs, happy-happys and tired-tireds.
coffee supplies me with morning warmth and wakeup, aromatic steam for a worn out tired engine, ritualistic comfort to my o.c.d. fantasy land, calorie free, delicious, toe-tingling energy, and is my ever-soothing, security blanket, thumb sucker i never carried or sucked as i child.
according to google...and friends, coffee also could be giving me a waxing thyroid, irritable sleep {although have zero sleep issues so far}, a cracked up metabolism, and hormonal imbalances.
as with everything, in excess, toll will be taken.
but my body seems to have cried uncle. actually my eye.
while my twitch isn't directly related to my coffee consumption {a silly, stressful conversation involving big words and numbers actually brought it on} i know my continued main-lining of caffeine isn't helping it go away.
thank you m'loves for all the words of support and suggestions.
i do already take a toxic dosage of magnesium.
and as far as the B-supplements.....i do them all biotin, b-6, b-12, b3, i'd bee-hive my hair if i thought it would help.
so teapot here i come. again. i hope you'll take me back.
coffee and i will never completely cease and desist. i will merely see other people. sort of like taking a sister-wife. preferably something perky and sweet.
yes, i'd like a venti ginnifer goodwin-ish tea please, extra hot, double cupped.
updates to follow.
go ahead. call animal services....
but last week's vet check-up was not pretty.
truman is "fat".
priscilla is not svelte.
a soundtrack of shame booms throughout the house.
we are headed back to the ranch.
priscilla insisted i take a before picture.
wish us luck.
kreativ blogger
i'm sure there was some sort of mistake.
i'm so not worthy of such an award,
but, in what i suspect was copious amount of black tar heroin consumption,
the divine deborah of dumbwit tellher bestowed the very generous kreativ blogger badge upon moi.
to say i have procrastinated is putting it mildly: she gifted me march 1st.
tis how i roll. i'm still sending out wedding invitations, and we're coming up on our 2nd year anniversary.
i tend to fall behind.
part of my hesitance has been the job of summoning up 7 personal items of substance and circumstance to impart upon, you, my loveliest of readers.
i can easily give you 7 things that are annoying and compulsive. but the former......i gots nuttin.
rather than try to dazzle i will go for the informative route. these may not be sparkly, antic facts, but all are true and differentiate me from the all the other mouthy, half-japanese/half caucasian, childless, compulsive eating, newport beach housewives around here.
1. i am terrified i will be the worst mother ever. we're talking joan crawford style wretched. i'm in love with a baby i haven't even conceived. but i'm deathly afraid said child will be asking hh for someone more adept and competent with her first words.
2. i love gummi bears. but only the haribo brand. and only the orange and yellow bears. i won't touch red, white and green. they taste like someone else's regurgitated jello shots: a senior graduation trip to puerta vallarta i'm still trying to forget.
3. i like to have things planned way ahead of time. and i make lists like ina garten makes cobblers.
i'm a moronic-scheduling-maniac, who writes everything done in my filofax (yes, i still live in the 1990's), re-syncs it in my blackberry, and triple confirms it to my desk calendar. i even schedule my spontaneity.
4. i take multiple baths everyday.
5. crickets. i hate crickets. i also hate silence which, in effect, is pseudo-crickets.
6. my left pinky toe lies horizontal. i was born with it this way. we call it bitch toe.
7. i am always cold. i wear a fluffy, cozy wrappy all the time to keep warm. even in 100 degree costa rica sunshine i had goosebumps. it's no longer adorable to my hh, but to still to get his attention i dramatically cry out, "baby, i am frijoles!!".
yes, i know this translates to " i am beans." BUT i like the way it almost sounds like "i am freezing", and it makes him smile.
so there you go. my seven things. it only took me 4 months to figure them out, put them to paper, and post.
i'm apparently supposed to tag the kreativ blogger onto 7 other blogs to keep the party going.
argh!! i hate that i have to narrow it down to 7....
duel living, jeune marie, sweet nothings, reverie, trust your style, with love from pittsburgh, and audrey onassis.
feel free to accept the tag if you like or pass it on to your discretion.
thank you again deb. you set the standard, oh goddess of katy, texas.
coffee break
i'm back on the crack.
with zero regrets.
2am 4am, 6am (thank you amanda), 8am, 10am, 1pm, 2:30pm, 5pm....
i can't explain the amour, the attraction, the courtship of sipping my piping hot, syrupy black love.
it ministers my moments with meditation; vents meaning into the tiniest of cracks of time, and molds memories from what would otherwise be breaths ungrateful.
venti, bold please. no room for cream or sugar.
priscilla goes to canyon ranch
piglet, er...i mean, priscilla has put on a couple of el bees of late.
although she eats vegetarian fare, we recently learned she's been helping herself to the kibble bin between meals.
definitely behavior unlike a lady, miss priscilla.
much to her father's dismay (the idea of his apple suffering sends him fetal) i have put miss priscilla on a strict diet:
vegetables and fish oil. tried and true.
i've used this method before, and it works wonders. my beasts slim down, their coats and eyes shine, and they shave minutes off their 10K's
at first she was curious. {never underestimate the power of a pink bowl}
then she spit it out.
a tantrum of tears and bellowing ensued for quite some time.
i finished a magazine.
exhausted and defeated (read lazy); she surrendered, and ate her "salad".
truman, trying to stifle his giggles, watched in happy, glib glee; remembering his months at canyon ranch.
post meal though, priscilla actually embraced her new spa-like regimen with a half savasana/half happy baby pose.
see? she's already groovin' canyon ranch style.
namasté.
happy weekend
2:30 alarm today. has anyone read the healthcare bill? say anything about a national naptime referendum?
all in favor say "aye".
a giant thank you to meghan, shannon and deborah for their meth face advice.
deborah, the last 10 checkups have included a thyroid check. in addition to meth face, i have crazy night sweats (think underage gay boys/studio 54 dance floor).
and when i'm not changing my sopping wet clothes (amazing i found a fella) i'm teeth chattering, freezing cold (wearing a parka in 90 degree weather). yet, my butterfly gland shows normal.
as for the gluten. i've never heard of it causing skin issues. ever since elisabeth hasselbeck stopped eating gluten it's been my mission to consume as much as possible. i'll try the celiac diet, but if i start squeaking in gibberish and quoting unicorns please give me back my wheat.
but give up dairy girls?
as in burrata con foglia and jasper hill cloth cheddar?
like for more than a 24 hour cycle? does this include greek yogurt too?
can't i just hold my breath all day instead? or make out with them instead?
anything, but give up dairy.
(sob)
(sob, sob)
oink oink
full disclosure: this is not a review.
i don't eat bacon. anymore.
(pause for moment of silence as i commemorate days of crispy salty, sweet love. love that made all things bad and scary..disappear, for 12 seconds as i chewed and swallowed).
i'm not one of those vegetarians who doesn't miss meat at all (take that double negative and shove it where the seitan don't shine). i crave tofu and tempeh like i crave being hungover. so when my friend, tara simon, started selling her katie treats candied bacon, i tried my best to avoid her.
but unfortunately, my plan to evade my fellow pilates co-worker (yes, you read that correctly; she is also an amazing pilates instructor) worked out disastrously.
her new company, the sticky pig is cooking like betty crocker!!! people are losing their minds over her candied bacon confections. seriously, say those two words together "candied"/"bacon". they're perfection. that's like "parisian"/"vacation"...."cashmere"/"bathrobe"..."folded"/'laundry"...(you get the idea). flavors come in coconut curry lime, raspberry jelly doughnut, s'mores, orange ginger, maple cinnamon, apple pecan dulce de leche, dark chocolate peppermint, the elvis, chocolate covered strawberry, and original.
these morsels sell and ship all over the country. orders range from 4 pieces to 12 month supplies.
this is a fabulous valentine's day present....a nice break from the normal chocolate, wine and flowers. how great would these be at your next chi-chi dinner party or reception?
love it tara!
Happy New Year
resolution time.
i detest these silly things. i detest uncomfortable shoes. yet i still wear them.
i am resolute to make the following things happen this year:
you dears? what are you resolute to change? i hope nothing because i adore you all exactly the way you are. yes, brandi even you with that giant herp on you face.
happy new year loves.
-katie
click image for source
oh mother may i
uh knt buluv owwww fikung gooooooot sih missu mayzz zzz krincha sih!??!?!?!?!??!?!? mmmm hmmmmm (swallow) pardon me????????? what i was saying, mouth full of rich, tasty goodness, was i can't believe how fucking good this mrs. may's holiday crunch is!?!??!?! 
trying to be sensitive to my gluten sensitive pal bernie, i purchased ol' mrs may's for a dinner party last week to pour over coconut bliss (another celiac disease friendly product.) i inwardly pitied the purchase as i envisioned the rest of the party gorging down on my other buy: a gluten-glutted chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting. (which by the way i plan to force feed halfwit Elisabeth Hasselbeck if ever we meet.)
so much for courtesy and concern? my gluten free diva stood us up for another party! the nerve? these prima donna's and their "disease's" think they can just crap all over us healthy, cereal and pasta eating folk. a pox on him and his villi . i hope his guilt triggered symptoms of bloat and menstrual periods missed. hmph!!but their was some silver lining to this ugly blouse. yesterday i found myself with a deadline, 15 free minutes i needed to commit to that deadline, and an unopened bag of mrs. may's holiday crunch. deadline's be damned i dived headfirst into that scrumptious sack. a-maze-ing!!! almonds, cranberries, pomegranate, acai powder, and a little smattering of sea salt. it was a yuletide party in my mouth. but not in a whorish way (don't be dirty you guys.)love the pared down ingredients. apparently it's kosher too, so i'm covered if ever i get celiac AND decide to become jewish. it's a fucking win win!!!!!i discovered mrs. may's at mother's market, give her a "click" to find her near you.
All the concealer in the world.....
isn't going to cover up the hot mess creeping and crawling around my kisser. I must be camera ready tomorrow, and it's more like ready for my possession of crystal meth mugshot. Those fourteen pounds I was supposed to lose over the weekend actually developed into a 2 pound accrual. At the time, my wine was telling me "birthday cake (2 days worth) is cleansing and detoxifying." I should have known better. Wine also once told me, "guys think it's really hot to pick out places to honeymoon on the second date."I'll let you know how tomorrow goes. I was cast for an athletic shoe commercial/DVD. Keep your fingers crossed they don't fire me upon arrival.* image Eleanor Hardwick