bewize

“The Gingerbread House has four walls, a roof, a door, a window, and a chimney. It is decorated with many sweet culinary delights on the outside.

But on the inside there is nothing—only the bare gingerbread walls.

It is not a real house—not until you decide to add a Gingerbread Room.

That’s when the stories can move in.

They will stay in residence for as long as you abstain from taking the first gingerbread bite.”

― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration


My office has a tradition of putting together gingerbread houses for our firm Christmas party. Last year, we started meeting at a restaurant instead of one of the partner's homes, so we skipped this particular tradition. That was a relief, y'all, because those little suckers are HARD to put together.

Monday morning two weeks ago, I came into my office to see a brightly colored wrapped package. I was super excited, because it wasn't the day for Secret Santa, so this was just a random gift.

Or, so I thought.

"Bring to the office on December 14 for judging."

There it was, in all it's slick lies and promise of simplicity, a gingerbread house in a box kit.

Of course, I waited until last night to assemble it. My friend wanted to help, and my boyfriend certainly didn't. He's lived through the years where we had to do this at the actual firm party, so he's smart enough to run away. Anyway, she came over and we made cookie dough, ate dinner, played with the baby and then got to business.

I was putting cookies in the oven while she opened the package and box and heard, "Uhh, Bewize? This is broken."

"They usually are," I said absently, much more concerned about the cookies that I was baking than the stale gross gingerbread she was unwrapping.

"Some of this is sand," she said, and her tone of voice sounded genuinely upset. I shoved the cookies in the oven and went over to see what we were working with.

Crumble. Pieces. Broken fragments. A few side panels had only snapped once, but the whole thing was a total shambles.

Clearly, the gingerbread house hadn't survived transport well.

"Oh, shit." I paused, tempted to shrug and throw it all away. But, I could tell that she was really disappointed. "Let's see what we can make of the pieces," I finally suggested.

An hour later, covered in hardened frosting (which also hadn't survived transport well), we ended up with a wonky stone hinge. Of course, even that fell apart after a few minutes. Not even cement frosting and toothpicks would hold this mess up.

I snapped a picture and sent it to my office with the word SABOTAGE as the email header.

Then, we talked about the gingerbread house.

I felt a little bad for my friend. She'd cleared an evening to come and spend time and work on this project. She'd brought extra candy and decorations. She was really into the whole idea. She doesn't have family that she's close to. Me, the boyfriend, the baby - we are her de facto family, and our house is her family home.

We are her Christmas experience.

She was gutted.

I showed her the picture I'd sent to the office. She paused, then took the fondant in a package, unwrapped it, and crafted a disembodied hand with a prominently displayed middle finger.

I was so proud of her. I promptly sent that picture out as a "reply all" to myself, with a metric ton of giggles between us. She told me later she admired my balls.

Later, she asked if I'd agree to help her put together another gingerbread house for the contest she'd started at her work.

I mentally sighed, because she doesn't know - it's always like that. It never turns out like you plan. It's deceptively cheerful box, holding disappointment, things that won't go right, and icky tasting cookies and candy.

"Yep, of course!" I replied. Because, it's Christmas. Because, she's family. Because that gingerbread house is nothing, if not a metaphor for life.

I saved the fondant middle finger, though. Just because. After all, it's always good to be prepared!


Written for LJ Idol prompt: "Sucker Punch." I will link the poll if there is voting.

I started on a birth control pill last summer called Beyaz. It was expensive and didn't seem to do much beyond the name sake in terms of being helpful. About a month later, I started shedding a lot of hair, but I didn't put two and two together until October.

I lost a lot of hair in September, like sobbing on the couch while N brushed out clumps of hair a lot (and yes, that is literal and yes, I am scarred from it emotionally, if not actually physically). The trash can was full of it.

I panicked.

And someone suggested that it might be a side effect of my birth control. I looked and yep. I researched and double yep. I talked to my doctor and got switched to Loestrin. Two months later... I'm not shedding hair anymore.

But, I have bald spots. Actual balk spots.

To those who have seen me, but not noticed, thank you for not noticing. To those who noticed, but didn't say anything, thank you even more.

I don't consider myself overly vain, but this has been incredibly hard on me.

A few days ago, it occurred to me to wonder if my hair would ever grow back. I was talking to my mom at the time, and she jumped on google and found out that, apparently, it is a common enough side effect that a lot of people complain about it.

I'm torn between being pretty angry and still just upset. My doctor never mentioned that this was a likely side-effect (nor did she mention that it was 3 times more likely to cause DVT than other types of birth control pills). There are several class action lawsuits against the company, although I can't confirm if any of them include my symptoms, or just the blood clots.

I also can't find much about whether or not my hair is going to actually grow back. I'm trying to be patient, but it's hard.

The new pill seems to have made me pretty wretchedly sick. I haven't had cramps like that EVER. I mean EVER. I hurt so badly for so many days that I was honestly starting to wonder if it could be something worse. My back hurt, my stomach hurt, my legs ached, my hips ached. And no amount of pain pills helped. Showers, heating pads, massages... nothing. I just hurt.

So, this isn't really a request for advice or anything. I'm just bitching about it. Because it sucks.

I've dropped off the map.

I know that.

I miss you guys. :(

I have clearly started today as I finished yesterday and Sunday - with increasingly random weirdness and a growing sense of impending doom, coupled with a lot of self-inflicted WTF-ery.

I ended up having to go to court for S this morning and that was a complete fiasco. I abandoned ship and he will have to show up and see if he can't fix it, but when I left there were people vowing to do "whatever it takes" to see the other side fucked over.

Then, I get to the office and am setting up when a crazy lady walks in and demands to use the phone. I tell her we don't have a public phone and she gets so belligerent that I finally relent, because I didn't particularly want to stab her in the face with my pen, which was where my thoughts had taken me with increasing pressure.

While she's on the phone having a meltdown at whomever, I try to make breakfast and coffee. I burn breakfast and I spill coffee all over the place, including my foot which is sprouting a nice little red burn now, and in the midst of the symphony of curse words I'm spilling, coupled with the cacophonous sound of Crazy Lady yelling in the phone, one of B's client's walks in and gets irate that B isn't here.

At this point, I've reached the end of my tether and I ask if he had an appointment, he says no, and I ask if he sees the problem or if I need to spell it out for him. He apparently decides not to piss off the crazy lady with the one red eye (b/c oh, yes, left eye problems are back) and meekly asks me to leave B a note, which I do.

Then I go and tell Crazy Lady to wrap it up.

I call my paralegal and tell her to stop at the grocery store and buy paper towels and non-powder coffee creamer (b/c the boys only buy that nasty shit when I send them).

Then, B arrives and says that L was in a wreck, but she's okay.

That's 4 wrecks in the last few weeks, folks. M, B, me, L - usually these happen in threes, we may be going for a double, so watch yourselves.

I am on my last day of antibiotics. At least, I think I am. The left eye problem may suggest something different. FML.

Some days you win. Some days you lose.

Some days you're the bump in the road. Other days you're the suspension on the car that's torn up.

I don't think I'm internet-proof anymore and will now retire to watch Top Chef, eat a sandwich, and work on fic.

I can't stand it anymore. I'm going to work. See ya'll on the flip side. XD

So, not only did I start the new year with either food posioning or a stomach bug, I earned... wait for it... car problems on the second.

Yep, car won't start.

AREYOUFREAKINGKIDDINGMEUNIVERSE?!

Remember when I was whining yesterday about my throat hurting? Yeah. Well, I woke up this morning with my throat so swollen that I choked. I literally choked so much and so often that I threw up three times before I managed to get my contacts in, wherein I opened my mouth to stare at my throat... and freaked the fuck out.

It is... not pretty. NOT PRETTY. My uvula is so swollen that it and my throat lining were hanging down into my throat. I thought it was an allergic reaction and that it might be closing shut, so I ran and woke up V, made her look, and then called my mom to see if I needed to go to the ER or if I could wait for the doctor in an hour.

I ended up at the doctor, who sort of made fun of me until he actually looked in my throat (this is a long time friend, so I don't mind that he was being sort of snarky, especially since he worked me in AND gave me 3 months of my Advair inhaler!). Once he looked in my throat, all humor was gone and he said, "Wow. Umm, okay. Wow."

Yeah, not so funny now, is it?

He is pretty sure I have an abscess in my throat, although I am the only person without tonsils he's ever seen have one. My sinuses are compacted and filled with blood and everything about me is disgusting at the moment.

I'm now on steroids (my old friends! Yay, weight gain!), two antibiotics and a pain killer. I also have strict instructions to call him immediately if my throat starts filling like there is cotton stuffed around my voicebox or I cease being able to swallow at all.

Ummm. These things can happen?! *cue panic*

Plus, he told me I couldn't go to work today. I know it's ridiculous, but that's a crushing thing to tell a workaholic. But he said if the abscess ruptures (from talking too much or doing too much), I will end up in the hospital. I don't want that. I really don't want that. So, I worked from home today.

I did get a few things done, not nearly enough, because the pain killer knocked me the fuck out and I slept for like 3 and half hours. I'm still exhausted, though, and could go back to sleep in an instant.

Mostly, I'm left wondering what my body will think up next. A throat abscess? Really? According to the Internets, the most likely causes are tonsillitis (and I don't have tonsils) or TB (and I got tested about a dozen times last year what with the asthma issues). So, who the hell knows?

It's 1:12. You've got one of the big STRESS inducing items off the list. You've got... 3 others? I think you can get them all done today, yes I do.

But first, maybe take a break and eat some lunch?

(I am purposely not saying anything about the idiotic decision to agree to a closing tonight. You did a good job turning them all down last week and yes, I saw your bank account. I get it. But, still... don't let this be the feather, that's all.)

Take the two things you need to file with you, so that when you go to serve said subpoena, you can stop on the way back to do the filing.

YOU REALLY CAN GET THIS DONE.

Then, 3 pm interview with Mike Kennebrew (which I strongly encourage you to enjoy, because he is AWESEOME). Last, call RG (asshat) and get him his damn divorce papers, so he can quit causing you stress all night long. Do not be nice. Even though he is super hot, and usually very nice. I'm sure it's holidays during a divorce that's making him be a grouch but you don't deserve to be his scapegoat. REMEMBER THAT!

My life is out of control and I cannot keep up. Work is making me sick to my stomach with stress and if one more person tells me to calm down, I will lose my shit. Don't be that person. Just don't.

************

This weekend happened. There are many things that I would like to talk about, but some of them are making me twitchy, so I don't even know where to start. That and the fact that some of the things that are making me twitchy were within my power to control and I let it happen and I don't know if I'm okay with that or not either.

***********

The people who are supposed to move our phones should be here in 3 minutes. I don't have the keys. I'm pissed about this.

***********

Met with the phone people. Had lunch. Saw this vid (thanks A!!).



Feeling better, though still overwhelmed. Food helped. A lot. (Apparently, I'm hollow. I've now had toast and fried rice today and I'll probably eat at least one more time. Oink. [I'm being sarcastic. Usually I skip breakfast, though, and all day today I've been starving!])