Saturday, January 21, 2006

Deb's Mental Status

The day is bright, the sun is out, the weather is spring-like and I’m in love! The snow has melted and I can see the grass. The trees are bare, but the birds are perched on the first available branch; chirping songs that makes my heart sing. Don’t worry. This is temporary. It’s the strong espresso I drink in the morning. It’s almost like crack to me. In about a half hour, I’ll crash. The sad thing is, I don’t go for another fix until the next morning. My crack dealer is Shoprite. They supply my grinds to give me that morning high.

Buzz kill: “The plumba’s comin’ova to look at da’pipes. Dare’s a noise comin’ outa’ da’ well, and we dink’ itza’ leak.” My father says, as I make my way down the stairs to greet my parents hello.
“Today?...This morning?” I was disappointed that I couldn’t have my Saturday morning in peace without some large man screaming out to his partner, “Get me dis! Get me dat!” He was over about a month ago with his little sidekick putting in a new toilet for me. He’s abrasive and he makes me nervous. Of course, I can hide in another room and just wait until he’s done, but he always manages to get into that one room that I’m occupying. He invades my space. There’s always a pipe I don’t know about hidden under my couch somehow. It baffles me. The best part about this plumber we have is that he doesn’t sport the plumber’s crack. Major plus.

So now that my coffee high has dwindled, and the clouds started rolling in, my mood started dropping faster than Google’s stock. It was 10am, and it almost looked like night outside. My seasonal affective disorder kicked in big time, along with all my other manias. Lovely. This is definitely going to be a great day ahead.

Madelene called me up from work to check on how I was doing. She knew I was in a major funk the last couple of days. She was surprised when I picked up the phone on such a ‘high note’ due to the caffeine consumption. It almost sounded as if I won the lottery…either that or I was trying to audition for an auction. I always speak way too fast when I’m hopped up on coffee—especially espresso. We have our little annoying ‘habits’ that we created throughout our relationship before hanging up the phone or even while we’re together.

“I love you.”
“No…I love you more!”
“No!..I love you more!
“I love you more than you love me!”


Bleckkkk!

I should surprise her and end it with, “Let’s break up!” It’ll be worth it by the look on her face. “NO! But I love you less!” Why do couples have their little weird habits? I’m not excluding myself here. Think about it—the pet names for one. I hate pet names. Madelene created one for me about ten years ago. She was over my house late at night planning to sleep over, so I went in the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for bed. I have very long curly hair, and at night, I put it up so high, that it looks like a mountain full of curls—almost like a mushroom cloud. It’s just comfy. I go back to the couch to watch TV with her, and out comes there words:

“Fraggle Rock!”

I didn’t want to turn around, because I was in fear that this would be my label for years to come. Whenever my male friends would stay over when I had parties, they used to call me “Pebbles”. That I can handle. It wasn’t a big deal to me—because these were my guy friends—not my lovers. So, Fraggle Rock turned into just plain ol’ fraggle. It’s still my name till this day. It even became a verb. One morning while preparing breakfast for myself, Madelene calls me from work.

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing?”
“Just fraggling.”
I said, without even thinking about it.

I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. I turned this awful name for myself into a fricken verb. Great. I’m labeled for life now. It’s not a big deal anymore--I’m quite used to it. The only embarrassing moment is when she forgets and calls me ‘fraggle’ in public. That’s just God awful.

When Madelene and I separated for a couple of years, I dated a couple of women who had the habit of ‘sweet talking’ me to death with pet names. I cringed at each little cute term they used.

“Sweet cheeks”, “baby doll”, “honey bunny”, “sugar lips”, “schnookims”, and so on. My best friend would make fun of me all the time, because I would always whine about these pet names that were given to me. She was definitely cursed—because now her current girlfriend gives her the names that used to make her skin crawl. They were just horrendous. I can only imagine how a man feels when a woman purges out these embarrassing names at them. I feel your pain guys.

Most straight people ask me, “Isn’t it a challenge to live with another woman? What about the PMS days? What if you two get it at the same time? Is it absolute chaos with all those hormones raging?”

My answer?

It’s just ‘me’. Madelene is not of this earth—I swear. My emotions are so up and down, Madelene doesn’t know if I’m coming or going. Poor thing has to put up with me. She’s like a man, but in a feminine costume. We compliment each other very nicely. Or, she just compliments me. My mood swings and anxiety attacks is a force to be reckoned with. If I happen to be PMSing, she’ll come home and find me on the couch with a big blanket tossed on me, drinking a hot cup of green tea with a huge box of Kleenex on my side while watching sappy Lifetime movies. My eyes will be all puffy and red and my nose will be swollen from blowing it so many times.

“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
I mutter.
“You okay sweetie?”
“Yeh. Why?”
(sniffle)
“You look sad.”
“I’m not sad.”
I say, as I just finished watching Terms of Endearment for the 100th time.

Then comes the anger part.

“Sweetie, can I get something for you?” Madelene asks so graciously.
“No thanks.” I say, in a low voice.
“You sure honey?”
“Yeh. Thanks.”
“Awe sweetie, let me do something for you- you sure you’re okay?”
“I’M SURE! I’M SURE! I’M SURE!!!”
I scream, in a manic-depressive rage.

Then the guilt takes over. I wait for a few minutes so she doesn’t think I’m ‘too bi-polar’.

“I’m sorry sweetie.”
“It’s okay…”
She says, but still keeping her distance. The look of fear in her eyes makes me feel just awful.
“I’m just not feeling good. Fricken PMSing and I’m sobbing over some corny movie.”
“I understand.”
She says, carefully…as she puts her coat in the closet, trying to be busy and not get in the path of my psychotic moment.

Even sex messes me up. I’m manic with the one thing I love the most. I can outdo a seventeen year old hormonal boy with my high libido. Attacking Madelene for hours, as if she were a huge filet mignon, I’m definitely in the height of my sexual peak. I’m in my thirties, and I never really believed my sexual drive would increase. Well it did. After a couple of hours later, a few bruises here and there—I find myself in a freakish depression-like state. What the hell is wrong with me? I just had the best sex in my life, and I’m all weepy again. Then one of my ovaries starts pulsing, and then I realize that my hormones are just way out of control.

Madelene says that I definitely keep her on her toes. It’s never a dull moment with me. She even claims that’s the reason why she’s so in love with me—because I’m not boring. I’m unpredictable like a tornado. It’ll be calm and still---until the tornado takes over and wreaks havoc for all who’s in its path. I guess some people live for that excitement. I’m just glad Madelene does. She loves it. I think she’s definitely addicted to the excitement of the unknown. Is it good to be unpredictable?

When Madelene and I separated for a couple of years, back in 2000, I dated a woman who was much like myself. We were like a fricken time bomb together—ready to explode at the same time. (Yes in that way too) God forbid we would PMS at the same time—the hells would open up and suck us right in. We sat there like two mental patients yelling and screaming at one another—and then crying hysterical telling one another how much we were in love with each other. It was chaotic. We’d sometimes break up, to enjoy the make up sex. She’d wake me up at 4:30am for a little ‘wake up call’, and then we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. Once we woke up, we looked at each other with hateful eyes.

“How come you never make coffee when we wake up?”
“Go make it yourself!”

“I’m hungry…”
“So get yourself something to eat-what do I look like?”
“Why do you let your God damn dog sleep in the bed with us?”

Those were happy days. There were definitely great times with my ex, and we are still friends till this day. I was actually allowed to write that—with her permission. We laugh at it now, because it was so comical. I’ll have to get her to write a post to tell her side of things. That would be very interesting. She has now found a very tolerable woman who puts up with her shenanigans much like Madelene puts up with mine. We laugh at the similarities that we both have as far as our living arrangements now—minus the Noah’s Ark she has going on in her home. What is it with lesbians and their desire to have twenty or more pets? Even though we went through a lot---she is one of my good friends who knows me all too well. In a way, it comforts me to have a friend who is able to read me like she does. I wouldn't trade anything in the world for the memories that we once created.

People think that lesbians are the most loyal and faithful people around. Think about this---they are always seeking to form some sort of cult-like group. It’s to meet other ‘friends of the same lifestyle’. Sure. The majority of them are in AA, and if they weren’t, I’d bet you anything that their little cult-like group they formed would become one huge orgy. It’s already in progress. This one slept with that girl while this one was still in a relationship. Potluck Thursdays and poker night Wednesdays have you wondering what’s really going on at these events. Some ladies even formed their own knitting group. That’s right up my alley. My friend Tara once walked into a knitting group at Barnes and Noble’s a while back, and had to run into an aisle full of ‘self-help’ books to muffle in her laugh. Poor girl was traumatized. I think she’s seeking psychiatric care now.
Too many luaus and firehouse parties to count. It’s relentless. They keep sending you email reminders of their next upcoming event---as if you can’t miss this one! This’ll be a hoot! Beverages will be available. Beverages, consisting of punch, soda and juices. What are we—a bunch of preschool children? I refuse to attend these events, only because I would rather mingle with my straight & gay buddies at the same time. I don’t feel a need to just congregate with ‘my own kind’---as if I have some catching disease. You think I live in a bubble? These women formed a bubble of their own—making them an exclusive lesbian cult. After each meeting, you’ll see a few u-hauls parked outside, just in case a couple of the girls hit it off really well. Lesbians always have this knack for moving in way too soon. This would be the very reason why they break up way too soon. Whenever a lesbian relationship starts up too soon, it usually becomes this explosive hormonal run-away train heading for the end of a cliff. The passion is in high gear and the anger is full of rage and anger. Every lesbian has the word 'drama' in her vocabulary. If you ever go snooping into the lesbian personals, take a look at how many women put this line in:

“I don’t want any drama!”

The ones who write it—are the ones who usually create it. It’s usually a sign that they aren’t over their ex-girlfriends. Lesbians usually cheat with their lover’s best friend or some sort of acquaintance. It never fails. I say that, only because I see it way too many times. I know I sound like I’m generalizing, but I’m only going by what I experienced and seen. Not every lesbian fits this description...only most of them.

Once the break up sets in, they have to sit down and talk about the cat custody. They usually refer their cats to 'the kids'. Who gets the kids? They now have in their possession--ten or more cats. Maybe a few dogs here and there—but lesbians prefer those felines that make your skin and body itch. It’s a major dilemma. Who gets which cats? This is the only real troublesome part of the break up, other than bumping into the new girlfriend. This can lead into a major ‘cat fight’.

I’ll be getting a lot of hate mail from that cult-like group. I usually do. Someone always gets their shorts in a bunch when I bash their little gatherings. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a large manly-like woman at my front door wearing a pair of Birkenstock boots ready to ram it up my arse. The women are to be feared. They’re a whirlwind of bodybuilding, flannel shirt wearing, big steel toe wearing broads who wouldn’t think twice about taking down a ‘femme’ who isn’t ‘really a true lesbian’ in their eyes. I say that in jest of course.

With that being said, I’m signing off so my life isn’t in jeopardy. If you read this entire post- God bless ya! I give you credit.


WARNING:
Most rants are usually written while in PMS mode. Side effects include vomiting, diarrhea, sour stomach, leg cramps, eye strain and agitation. Drowsiness and fatigue can occur while reading such long-winded rants. Ask your doctor if this post is right for you.

48 comments:

kathi said...

What day is it?

~Deb said...

I have no idea.

The Stevo in H-Town said...

"Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is"?


Chicago

blackops said...

Well Pebbles, I must say that you got a lot of fraggling shit to think about there. And all that fraggling that you and your girl do...whoaaa, no wonder you're so mind-fraggled. As my buddy Jerry Springer says, "we love lesbians!!! we love lesbians!!! we love lesbians!!!! Okay time for me to go do some fraggling chores now and come back later and do some more fraggling bloggin'.

~Deb said...

Stevo, it's Miller time. I'm gonna be heading over to the Jammy for some beer and wings. Be prepared.

Blackops, ah go fraggle yourself! ;)

Casually Me said...

Sometimes I read your blog, to learn how to write. I am not a lesbian, never been to New York, and have little in common. That being said, I read your stuff cuz it's a new world to me, and because your writing style is so right on. kathi and yourself are teaching me things...just by reading your blogs..thanks..

kathi said...

casually me ~ deb can teach many things...especially how to write and entertain...
I teach how to bore people and make them yawn. My blogs have been put on audio and video to aid insominiacs. :)

~Deb said...

Well that's very flattering Casually Me! Thank you. I don't know if people come to 'learn' how to write---I just write from the heart and from my nutty lesbo life. You don't need to be a lesbo to read this blog. ;) Straight/gay/bi men are always welcomed! I always love reading your blog.

Kath: Your blog is FAR from boring my dear. Come on, I still can't get that image of you falling down in a puddle of urine in a bathroom stall. Now THAT'S entertainment!

Sad Brother said...

help
i lost my sistor

Mike said...

I can't help but wonder if referring to you from now on as 'fraggle' would be offensive...lol.

Thanks for the insight on a life style I know nothing about.

Amz said...

haa ha haa..I use to love watching the fraggles :) Hensen was the best. I can hear yet another new term being used in my life, "wanna get together later and fraggle?"

maddie sounds like a god send...i keep trying to tell others that a great relationship isn't about compromise...nope, it is about tolerating each other exactly as you are :)

~Deb said...

Mike: You can definitely call me the ‘new fraggle’…I’m fragilized and now I am labeled that for life. And no, I wouldn’t be offended in any way. I’ve been living with this name for a decade now. Welcome to my world Mike.

Amz: Well, in our definition of the verbalized state of fraggling is---hanging out---or ‘cuddling’ or just doing anything leisurely. Madelene is definitely a God send to me. She accepts all my little idiosyncrasies, and I accept all of hers…(sometimes)… I’m working on it!

Fred said...

I started this during the first quarter; the football game is in the fourth quarter now.

Fraggle Rock? I could see that name. It fits. As for names I use for my girls, well, I don't. Every so often I'll throw in a "Honey" or "Baby", but that's about it. No imagination on my part.

I'll take the extra credit, please. I made it to the end, warning and all.

~Deb said...

Glad you made it Fred!

Romeo Jensen said...

OMGaaawd Deb (snookems) that was your best ever post!
That was more than I've ever knew about Lesbiens... I'm rethinking my switch LOL
Now people be nice to my Big sister... especially you Yugo driving Berkenstock wearing Kerry voting people

Jon said...

It seems to me that the way you describe your hair prep for bed, and the "tornado" of emotions that Madeline deals with that you should be called Twister.

You may be a mess, but I love you anyway.

Monica said...

I only feel qualified to comment since I've had a bottle of wine (what?!--a GLASS? No...BOTTLE!!)
Red.
Yeah.
Anyway. those hormones should be mixed carefully.....never mix hetero with bi...or confused with lonely....or never angry and hurt with lonely and fun......that's BAD. Sorta fun.....but waaaaaaaaay too much drama and super-dee-dooper bad.

Did i mention the bottle....?

I think it was cabaret.......


red.....yeah.

Monica said...

Which Fraggle are you?
Red?
(wine?....giggle)
What was the other one....Madge?

Googling......
Gobo?....noooooo
Mokey...noooo---that's Kathi....
Mokey is a dreamer, a poet, and an artist; she sees the beauty in the world around her. Mokey is slightly older then the rest of the "Fraggle Five" and is more sensitive to others' feelings, and even sometimes takes on the role of mother. Mokey is never too busy to help someone in trouble or in need of advice. It is Mokey's job to collect vegetables from the Gorg's garden which are the Fraggles' main source of food. She enjoys peace and quiet now and then but also knows how to have some traditionally noisy and hyper Fragglish fun.

Wembly...??? Boober??? No......ti's gotta be Red.
You'll never find a more energetic Fraggle anywhere. Red never walks if she can run. Red is a tomboy, athlete, and daredevil, always pushing the envelope of Fraggle endurance. Even if her attempts of doing so land her flat on her face, she doesn't despair. As soon as she's able (and sometimes before), she'll try it again. Red loves the thrill of sport and the spirit of competition. She doesn't deal with defeat well, but it doesn't hold her down long. It only convinces her to try harder. Red is wild, noisy, and always in the mood for a party. Her favorite thing to do is swimming and to yell "Whoopie" in the middle of a spectacular dive or slide. This suits her job quite well, for it is Red's duty to keep to pool clean.


There ya go babe...you don't need therapy...you just need more-
"Whoopie!!"

joey♥ said...

i like reading your posts. great writing and i learn about something i don't know anything about.

god i hate pms! my movie of choice is breakfast at tiffany's.

Mella said...

This is great, ~deb! Not only because I relate to the coffee/crack addiction, the seasonal affective disorder & the bi-polar PMS (which are all happening at once with me at the moment - ack!)- but you wrote it so well. Very entertaining. Maybe I'll brew myself some espresso and read it all over again.

kathi said...

I'M MOKEY~~~ I like that!! Except that I don't really like people and I'd always rather be alone...

DSMars said...

"'Why do you let your God damn dog sleep in the bed with us?'

Those were happy days."

That was funny, Deb.

Tanisha said...

Deb as usuall you ahd me laughing this morning. so you are a human tornaddo eh? And Bleck is right on the I love you's.. Sheesh... Hope all is welll

~Deb said...

Romey baby---do you know me at all? I’m republican! I never would dream of voting for Kerry! I’m a Bush girl. Errr…well….not into bush per se, but I did vote for ol’Dubilya’. No big steel-toe boots here, just a nice pair of three inch heel boots…I need height---then I’ll be at my perfect weight!

Jon: Twister is a great term to describe me----even my personality. Yeek. I’m glad you accept my flaws! xxoo

Monica: LAY……..OFF………THE…………WINE! And this coming from an alcoholic. You know it’s bad when an alcoholic tells you to cut down on the wine consumption. You know something though? I am not familiar with the casting of Fraggle Rock or whatever those little thingies were. I’m clueless.

Joey: Thank you. Well it’s always good to take a look out on the other side of the fence.

Mella: Ugh….I’m waiting for my coffee to brew right now. I love my coffee, but hate the big ‘crash’. PMS is subsiding, so I think I’ll be semi okay today. Thank you for the compliment---especially coming from such a talented writer!

Kathi: You don’t like people?

Dsmars: I hope that my ex-girlfriend comments on here, and defends herself with my little rant. Her dog slept with us, and she would always say, “Get down—go sleep over there.” (To the dog OF COURSE…) and then 3am, the dog would sneak back up on the bed and then I would have this huge asthma attack. My motto: Sleep with dogs...wake up with flees! (I speak of the dog--not my ex...ha)

Tanisha: After the fifth “I love you more than you love me”---it’s time to slap someone upside the head! Things are ‘better’ as far as mental status goes. Get me in about 5 hours and it’ll be a different story. Manic manic manic! {{hugs}}

Mike said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Mike said...

Happy Monday Fraggle... *snickers*

Oswald Croll said...

I like to think there is a small place in heaven for "the catcher" as I call them. The catcher, much like it's baseball parallel, the the one person in the set of two that receives.... in this case the emotions. Anger....that's the fast ball, it comes in high and hard, and often. Sadness is the curve, always looking like something else at first, then the bottom just falls out and handcuffs us. Guilt, well, that's like a knuckle ball, we have no idea where it could take us, but we look like asses trying to adjust to it. Anyway, enough sports metaphors. Being a 'catcher' myself, I like to think it will pay off. Unfortunately I think I'll have to die before reaping the benefits.

~Deb said...

Go ahead Mike, TEST MY PATIENCE when I'm in a manic state of mind! (heh)

Os: The lesbian community has a different take on the term, 'catcher and pitcher'....can anyone tell me what that means?

Mike said...

Sadly...I've entertained thoughts of changing my link to you to show up as fraggle....lol.....how's that 'patience' test coming along now lil missy?...(ducks...and runs for cover)

~Deb said...

Don't make me b*tch slap you Mikey boy! (Hoping you get assed in the arm again!)
Please read his blog if you want more details about being assed in the arm.

kathi said...

deb ~ I like people in small (very small) doses.

~Deb said...

Then you must hate me today. I left a billion messages on your blog. Ah well....can't please everyone.

Saur♥Kraut said...

Another funny, great post, Deb! And you're right about lesbians - some of my friends are lesbians, and they'd all agree with you, too. ;o) Most are drama queens. The ones that aren't, get the pick of the litter. But they know how to party and love animals! One that I know has several dogs and 4 cats. I don't know how she breathes.

You'll balance out eventually, but take my advice and get yourself a good head dr. Not the idiot you've been seeing... ;o) *hugz*

Mike said...

kathi doesn't like people?...does this mean we're relegated to just visiting every other day?...lol

~Deb said...

Saur: Yeah it's pretty interesting in this 'community' of lesbians. The gay men have it down to a science though. Yes----I am getting a new shrink, but get this----the one I called up to see if I could get an appointment----BATHES with her cats. That's alarming. She has cats all over her house, and I'm severely allergic. And I hear that this woman is an incredible therapist too! This sucks!

Mike: I can always give her the number to my shrink…He doesn’t talk. She may like him. Kath? What do ya think sweetie?

Mike, yeah, every other day would be suitable in this case.

Kellie said...

I get the exact same way when PMSing... Sometimes I feel so down I wonder how J ever puts up with me.

Great post!

~Deb said...

Wouldn't it be nice if all women got their PMS days together? They can just isolate us in one room and put on a huge screen TV to watch Lifetime movies. A truck load of Kleenex would be supplied and a sh*load of Motrins for each person. Whaddya think???

SignGurl said...

Deb! I used to have very long curly hair too when I first got married. My husband took to calling me a Fraggle too! Ugh... I still hate it.

I had to cut my hair to get away from that stupid nickname.

~Deb said...

We should seek revenge.

Leesa said...

~deb: All have PMS on one day? Since women really run the world, the entire world would shut down during those days.

Natalia said...

I am not moody but I am like a million people all wrapped into one...and I never quite know which one of my MEs is on duty that day, or that hour...so one never knows.

And I loooove pet names. I have had some weird ones in my life...but they were all cute because they were given to me with love.

-N

~Deb said...

Leesa: That's why there aren't any women presidents....ever notice that? I'm kinda grateful for that sort of discrimination.

Natalia: Oh no! You like pet names? We'll have to think something up for you. I'll do it out of love as well. Let me go back and think...I'll get back to you!

Oswald Croll said...

I am not fully up on my gay slang. I'll go stand in the corner and think about what I've done. Maybe read the cliff notes ahead of time next time.

But I get it now.

Os

Saur♥Kraut said...

Meet her for coffee somewhere else. Explain to her how you feel about it. If she cares about you (as she should) that won't stop her from finding a creative way to meet with you in the future; whether it's at a colleagues' office or something else...

~Deb said...

Os: Nothing wrong with not knowing the 'gay slang'... In fact, you're lucky!

Saur: She won't. She said that her house is the only way to meet her, and that her other office in another county is all booked up. I'm out of luck. *sigh* Can I see you????

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