mixtapes and sour grapes

originally, this blog was formed on the idea of venting about anything and everything that one person would not feel comfortable unloading on any other person. however, the thought that no matter what emotion one is feeling, there is a food item and a song to go with it- all three together. shall we give it a go?

i just want to bitch and moan. deal with it.

today’s main course: burracos (AKA Barack-Os)arroz con tomate in hard taco shells with a little pico de gallo.

today’s theme song: Frustrated Inc. by Soul Asylum 

“put me out of my misery….i would do it for you, would you do it for me?”

so, in the shitty world of wonder light of day, we must face certain challenges, take risks, be bold, be weak, be motivated, be lazy…..whatever. oftentimes, these things are completely out of our hands. what i would give to be a lapdog.

this morning, i woke up around 5 a.m. to use the facilities. i was on a loveseat, my friend A asleep on the couch, and my friend D camped out on the floor. i had been doubled over in pain the entire day before, and the two had come over for a slumber party. very cute. i ambled into the bathroom and then once again passed out on the couch in the fetal position.

the second time i awoke was to A’s voice, greeting my roommate- my roommate who had been on a trip and back sooner than usual. normally, this would be a celebrated welcoming. however, there were ashtrays full of cigarette butts, a sink full of dishes, and a few pillows removed from his room. it basically looked like we were up all night partying and cooking. no good, no good.

so roommate is unaware of my illness at this point in time. as to not set him off, i mosey into the kitchen and start to wash the dishes. A makes the coffee and gets dressed quickly- she and the roommate have a history, and he had told me prior to his leaving that he did not want her in the house. i had not been on my feet ten minutes when my knees buckled; i had to finish the dishes while clutching onto the sink.

sitting down, i poured the coffee, trying to overcome the terrible pain that was eminating throughout my thoracic cavity and abdomen. awesome. yeah…….i could do this.

the day “eased” on (when i say “eased,” i sort of mean “dragged on forever and ever.”) and obstacles became more apparent. my mail had not been dropped in my mailbox. i would have to drive to the next town to pick it up. driving to this next town, i started to have a seizure, and pulled over to the side of the road.

excuse the time gap, but i have amnesiac seizures.

when i entered the house and found no mail, i was confused, as well as exhausted and a little irritated. i rang up the culprit who had allegedly dropped my mail at my apartment. he had, in fact, dropped it into my neighbor’s box. i drove back to my apartment, checked the box, and guess what- nothing. i knocked on the neighbor’s door.

“hi, i’m sorry to bother you, i was just wondering if you accidentally received my mail in your box?”

“uh…what?”

“did you get any mail that wasn’t yours??”

“uh….yes, ah, but not for you, for…..kotREEN?”

“oh, no no no, that is my full name. do you have it?”

“whah?”

“do you have the mail?”

“ah, no, i bring it to the post office. thank you, bye bye.”

this is getting lengthy.

long story short- i drove to the post office, where, surprise, i was told the mail would be re-delivered to the original address within one week. awesome. yeah, no, i don’t need my check or anything. really, it’s cool. that gas bill that i have to pay? pfft. no problem.

by this time, i am thoroughly exhausted, and not very pleased that the apartment is filled with my roommate, two of his brothers, and a small child. we have a pretty small apartment….and i hate to spend time in my room. once again, though, this was life. feeling like a giant pile of partially digested chowder, i laid on my bed and said a prayer.

please, dear god, don’t let anything else happen.

i am pretty sure there is a time delay between people praying and god hearing them, because the phone rang. finally, my doctor was calling me back. what’s that, doc? IV therapy tomorrow?? an unknown mass? surgery to remove that lymph node on monday? oh, no, no! i can handle this giant bundle of bad news all at once, it’s cool, i just can’t stand up and hear it.

fucker.

in short, health issues are something i find frustrating. with frustration, i enjoy comfort food- if i can eat. when i think of comfort, i think of my friend M and how we usually grab lunch at a particular burrito place. we eat them in the same fashion- without beans. all i had for a wrap was hard taco shells rather than soft tortillas, but scooping some spanish rice into taco shells is pretty easy, too. 

ghetto, but easy.