OH MY GOD, Y'ALL

So I just read this article on Yahoo News.  I was hungry and about to go eat my leftover sandwich from lunch, but now, NOPE.

Japanese scientists have synthesized meat FROM POOP.

HUMAN FUCKING FECES.

I'll be fair.  I'm sure they killed the various microbes.  I'm sure it does not visually resemble shit.  I'm sure they used enough chemicals to make it palatable to humans.

BUT IT'S SHIT, Y'ALL.  SHIT!

And here's what gets me:

The scientists hope to price it the same as actual meat, but at the moment the excrement steaks are ten to twenty times the price they should be thanks to the cost of research.

So, you go to the market, and you have your regular factory-farmed meat, your more-expensive organic grass-fed meat, AND SYNTHETIC POOP MEAT.  Which are you going to choose?

Professor Ikeda understands the psychological barriers that need to be surmounted knowing that your food is made from human feces. They hope that once the research is complete, people will be able to overlook that ugly detail in favor of perks like environmental responsibility, cost and the fact that the meat will have fewer calories.

Why yes, I do have "psychological barriers" about EATING SHIT.  Those were developed during human evolution for a damn good reason.  And citing "fewer calories" as a reason to override both instinct and common sense?  Oh wait, people do that every day.

Merde!

It finally happened.

Hello, loves!

I was supposed to get this most fantastic of mystery tattoos last week, but the artist had to reschedule for yesterday.  My appointment was at 6pm, but we didn't get started until 7:30.  It was a long, grueling process, and it is definitely in my top 5 most painful ordeals, but at 1:30am, I walked out with a magnificent piece of artwork.

Ladies and germs, I present to you...the top of my ass and my #1 stay-in-shape secret!

I'm going back in 3 weeks to put more yellow on the butter, and do more shading. He'd already gone over the yellow six times and couldn't bear to put me through any more last night. After six hours, Cody and I were both pretty spent. Needless to say, I'm still feeling pretty spent today. All of my muscles are sore from clenching and unclenching, falling asleep, latching tenaciously to the headrest, the table next to me, and/or Brandell's hand. I'd like to say I was a total badass about it, but I wasn't. I was in too much pain to make up any good swears.

It was totally worth it, though. I've been wanting to get some sort of Size Acceptance related tattoo for about a year. I had this idea and just...never looked back. It was only a matter of time. I come from a long line of southern cooks, and margarine is a dirty word in my house. I think there's a nice element of just...owning what you've got in there, too. And man, next time anyone dares fat shame me, I'm gonna show 'em my ass.

<3

GTFO, take two

I rescheduled this week's stitch-n-bitch date with Jeanette to today since I won't be around on Friday.  I made Shrimp, Crab, and Corn Bisque for lunch, which came out better than any other time I've made it.  I impressed myself.  And Jeanette.  And Brandell.  I made a full batch, as in, enough for meal-sized servings for 6 people.  Between the three of us, it was polished off by 6pm.  Glory!  I taught Jeanette some of the basics of crochet.  It's been a really mellow day, which is what I needed. 

I'm still continuing to improve.  My overall pain level has decreased, and my doctor had the wild idea of using a small dose of an appetite suppressant as a mild stimulant to help cut through the fibro fog, and that's working out pretty damn well.  My mental state...well...it's fluid as always.  At least it's not stuck on "Heinous."  Things are pretty good, though.  Can't complain.

I'm going to be out of town for the next two days, so I'm just going to leave you darlings with this.

We have a backlog of soda boxes.  Our roommate had a bad day.  Bring on the hilarity.

To anyone who reads this, please send me happy, calming thoughts and good traffic mojo for tomorrow.

ps  I'm getting my Super Secret Hilarious Tattoo on Tuesday.  Just so ya know.  XD

A few good days!

Before I tell you anything about the last few days, I'm gonna need you to all read the funniest true-life story EVER, written by my amazing friend Tori. Door-to-door evangelists get more than they bargained for.

 Wednesday, the roommates were gone, so Brandell and I spent the day acting like an Actual Newlywed Couple.  I made pan-grilled salmon with toasted polenta for dinner, and it was fantastic.  It was the first time in FOREVER that I've felt well enough to stand over a stove willingly, not just because I'd promised someone some sort of food.  We had chocolate chip cookies for dessert.  YUM.  I can't lay claim to those, as they were break-n-bake, but that doesn't make 'em any less delicious.

Of course, when I posted this picture to facebook, my friend Scott had to say some ignorant shit about the "poop on the plate".  I informed him that it was olive tapenade and that he would be kicked squarely in the nards if he called anything I cooked/served poop again.

Thursday was crazy-busy.  I'd tried to pay the water bill online the night before, but for whatever reason, the payment refused to go through.  So, Thursday morning we woke up to no water, so Brandell and I went to the water office and paid the bill and the reconnect fee.  Le sigh.  Usually that joint is mobbed and the customer service folks are surly, but there was one person ahead of us and the lady at the window was sweet as pie.  Thanking god for small favors and whatnot.  I didn't want to get in a foul, gonna-choke-a-bitch mood because Thursday was my day to run around and do fun things with Jenny.

Oh, and that we did.  Our first stop was Natural Foods, a market with a self-explanatory name.  I stocked up on Kind Bars, grabbed a couple new flavors of Clif Bars, and a couple Chai Sodas.  YUMMM.  On the way there, we'd seen a couple girls on the side of the road by Condemned Tattoo and Piercing that said "$20 tattoos for ladies".  I ate a Clif Bar and drank my chai soda and we headed in there.  The one hang-up is that you had to pick your tattoo out of this notebook of flash, but I actually found something I liked.  A winky kitty face with two stars.  WHY NOT, MAN.  I got it on my right foot. 

Now this--this was an interesting experience.  I get bad cramps in my hips, legs, and feet when I have them at a disagreeable angle.  I was sitting in a chair with my foot up on another chair when my entire right leg seized up like a mofo.  I jumped up, almost tripping over the foot rest on the chair, and flattened my foot out on the floor until the cramping let up.  I sat back down, but nope, it fired up again.  So, wash, rinse, repeat, and I decided to proceed standing with my foot on the chair, Captain Morgan style.  I really wish there was a picture of this silliness.  After the outline, I sat my fat ass back down.  All the while, Jenny and I were chatting with one of the artists who was hanging out in there with us, and she seemed like a really cool chick.  She took pictures of my spoon tattoo and my foot-kitty, and showed us all of her ink.  As much as I love Diabolik Ink, I will absolutely go back to Condemned in the future.  I really liked how many female artists there were there.  Tattooing is definitely a male-dominated industry in this town, and while I really don't give a damn about the gender of my tattoo artist (or doctor or bus driver or gynecologist, etc.), seeing women in typically male-dominated spaces always makes me happy.  They're going to be doing another tattoo for me in the next couple weeks--all I'm going to say is that it's a tramp stamp, and you will likely pee yourself laughing when you see it.  This is a crappy picture, but I'm sure I'll be able to get a better one once I no longer have to put highly reflective petroleum products on it.

So, Foot Tattoo Pain Report:  It's really no worse than anywhere else, except for one little thing.  See that star right there at the very edge?  The one that's DIRECTLY ON TOP OF MY PINKY TOE KNUCKLE?  Yeah, I'm surprised I didn't pee myself.  That was murderous.  Jenny even said I was making Psycho Murder faces.  So, moral of the story...avoid your joints and it's all good.  I freaking love this silly little tattoo.  Need to know if I'm a crazy cat lady?  Just look at my foot.  Yes.  Yes I am.

After we were done at Condemned, Jenny and I decided we were hungry so we summoned The Husbands and went out to dinner at Passage 2 India.  Despite my ingrained hatred of businesses who substitute numbers for actual words in their name, I think this place is my favorite restaurant in Valdosta.  I am addicted to their Dabba Ghosht.  I order it every. single. time.  Brandell orders something new and interesting, then we share.  So it works.  Because all four of us are such frequent patrons, the waiter kept bringing us little plates and dishes of things to munch.  In addition to the usual plate of veggies and raita, he brought us a plate of fruit and each couple got a small bowl of some sort of rice pudding, heavily seasoned with cardamom, for dessert.  OMFG YUM.  It was far more liquid than any rice pudding I've had before, but I swear to you, I will figure out what it is, find it in the new Indian cookbook Jenny and Jeff gave me for my birthday, and make some asap. 

Yesterday was just...bizarre.  I woke up at 10am, farted around on the internet, did my usual waking-up thing.  I started to get sleepy, so I laid down for a nap before my therapy appointment.  Had my appointment, got my meds refilled, came home, got on the internet, fully intending to post here, spent maybe 30 minutes screwing around, and my eyes started to cross, so it was Bad TV Time.  A few shows in, I fell asleep.  Brandell woke me up and fed me a couple burritos.  I didn't even feel hungry, but this fattie doesn't turn down food, so I ate them, and all the sudden, I was AWAKE!  More bad TV and crocheting, and sure enough, a few hours later, I fell asleep again.  This time, my wonderful husband woke me up with some really tasty baked fish and corn on the cob.  (It should be noted that I love corn on the cob more than life itself.)  I cleaned my plate, then more bad TV and crocheting, and I was back in bed by 1:30am, which is crazy-early for me.  I didn't wake up until noon today.

I have a theory, though.  I'm hypoglycemic.  I get sleepy, REALLY sleepy, when I'm hungry.  However, baclofen, my muscle relaxer, has the side effect of anorexia.  And I haven't felt a legitimate hunger pain in days.  So my body is no longer telling me when to eat.  I just go to sleep.  Yes, this sucks, but at least I know what's going on now.  When I get sleepy before 3am, I need to just shut up and eat something, lest I nap myself into a hypoglycemic coma and have to be hauled off to the hospital.  Sheesh.  With fibromyalgia, you learn something new every day.

AND we have a new development with the Dueling Loaves.  Peace at the food dish!  Behold!

Previously, we fed them in separate rooms because of fighting, but I guess these two are finally forging a peace treaty.  Yusss!  Also, Scotti has decided that being a neck pillow on my computer chair isn't enough.  He must attempt to cushion my back, but as he's not quite as loafy as Fizzgig, this doesn't work out so well.

Silly cat.

Well, I'm getting sleepy so I think this means I need to go put on Real Clothes and go out to lunch with Krystal.  Good times!

Bottom line of this is, of the 12 (no shit) things I'm taking on a daily basis right now, SOMETHING IS WORKING.  This is amazing.  I feel better than I have in a long time.  This pleases me.

Tu-tu Tattoosday!

After my earlier post about spoons and learning to evaluate reality before agreeing to every offer of fun times that comes my way, I decided that the spoon tattoo was definitely happening. I got a quick shower, put on a fun outfit, decided makeup was unnecessary, and got the hell out.

So, we got to Diabolik Ink and I discovered that Bob, my usual artist, wasn't working today. However, Erik, who did Jenny's tattoo about a month ago, was available. This sort of caught me off guard. Bob's been there every time I've been in since the first time he tattooed me. I sort of stammered out "Well. Uhh. You're good, right? Duh, what am I thinking, of course you're good, Jenny's tattoos look awesome." GOD ALMIGHTY AT THE FLAVOR OF SHOE LEATHER. He seemed unfazed by my unintentional rudeness, and we talked about what I wanted. He got the initial drawing done, and Brandell and I left to go grab a burger since we'd barely eaten and I'd hate to pass out, and when I got back, I decided to be a mega-dork and email myself with some content for this post. LOL

Currently sitting at the shop waiting for Erik to prep everything. I'm getting a spoon on the inside of my left wrist. Told him why, and the drawing came back with some red liquid in the spoon. Spoon with meds? Fuck yes, even better. So yes, I am tattoo-cheating on Bob today, but this...this just had to happen. I feel like it's important to cement my new reality in my head in a very real, permanent way. It will be a reminder to consider how I actually feel and my current mental and physical state before over committing. That sometimes, it's ok to put my needs first. And I'll always have an extra spoon when I'm running low.

Right about then, Erik bee-lined for the door to smoke a cig, so I followed him out for "Smoke 'em if you've got 'em" time. We went back to his booth, and I saw he'd added a red and orange sun behind the spoon. Oh sweet lord, yes.

See, all I'd told him earlier was that I'd recently been diagnosed with fibromyalgia and wanted a tattoo of a spoon. He didn't know what fibromyalgia is, or about the whole "spoons" concept, or that being diagnosed after three years of misery really is like the dawn of a whole new life for me. As he worked, I explained all of this to him, and we both thought it was definitely...interesting that he'd come up with that without any input from me.

What I'd requested as a simple line drawing just grew and grew in complexity and color and depth. This is by far one of my most beautiful tattoos, hands down. It's number 10 for me, and I hate to say this because it almost always jinxes me (the artist moves to a bigger city), but I think I've found MY artist.

There's just no words for how much I love it. The detail is impeccable. The treatment of transparent and reflective surfaces is unlike anything I've ever seen. Holy balls, Batman, this guy is GOOD.

(Never mind the mirror images, I was screwing with FXCamera on my Droid and wound up getting a better picture than the previous one. LOL)

After a trip to Big Lots in which we purchased everything but what we meant to purchase, we stopped by Captain D's to pick up some dinner. We were both beat.

After we ate, Brandell used the cat as a pillow while I took my meds and changed into my pajamas.

...I gotta say, it was a good day.

<3