The Catherinette Chronicles

What is the true mark of friendship? Everyone has their own idea of what friendship really means. Well let me tell you what it means to me: friendship is about being in sync and sharing things with one another.

Using this definition, Foxy and I are true friends.

You’ve all heard how women’s periods tend to sync up when they spend a lot of time. There are plenty of us in this office that bust out the box of tampons at the same time every month. But Foxy and I have decided to take it one step further. This time around, we’ve decided to get yeast infections at the exact same time. We’re such good friends. We really are. We might even go out shopping for Monistat together later. Maybe afterwards, she can get a UTI and we can reminisce about all the fun times we’ve had over a delicious glass of cranberry juice.

That’s right, kids, another yeast infection. Thank you antibiotics for the UTI. Thanks for ruining my reunion with 3D last night. No, really. It was freaking awesome when he said to me, “You have white stuff coming out of you.” So hot. Yeah, I totally wanted lightening to strike me dead in my bed.

Here’s to the yeasties.

Oh God. I’m so freaking pathetic it hurts me. So 3D and I are wandering into week 7 of our romance, and I’m totally enamored with him. He’s out of town and we spent 4 hours on the phone last night. 4 hours. I happened to mention that I loved getting flowers at work. Guess what? He sent me flowers at work.

I think my heart might beat right out of my chest.

They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Frankly, I can’t function unless I eat a little something in the mornings. Today is no exception. My breakfast consisted of 2 Tylenol, 4 Advil, 1 antibiotic, and some Cherry Coke Zero. That’s right, kids, I’m getting sick again. My throat is sore, my head hurts, and as a cherry on this sickness sundae, I just realized I have a bladder infection. Super. My life totally rules right now.

You know the best part? Tomorrow I’m supposed to go back to work after 6 weeks of being off. I have a very bad feeling that I might have to call out sick. Don’t think that they’re going to love that.

For the freaking love. Why won’t she just leave me alone sometimes? Tonight is the first night in about 3 weeks that I am by myself. I’m tired, my house is a freaking mess, and I have no interest in being around other people. All I want to do is lay in my bed, watch some bad programming, and perhaps eat some junk food. My mother has called me 6 times today, and each time I told her that I didn’t feel like talking. 3 times ago I ended the conversation with, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” How does she respond? By calling me 2 more times to ask me stupid shit.

Let me give you the set up of today’s lame ass calls. My mother is single. She has been for quite sometime. She is a good looking, smart, sophisticated woman, who could find a man if she really wanted. For a long time, she said she did not. Every once in awhile (about once a year), she decides that she will look for love. And every god damned year she asks me to help with her god damned online profile. Here’s the thing, she asks me the stupidest questions on the face of the earth. Witness today’s exchange:

• Me: Hello?
• Mom: If I sign up for Voldematch.com do I have to use my email address?
• Me: [Pissed that she's intruding on my night of solitude and holding back from telling her to leave me the hell alone and just read the stupid instructions] Yes you do. But the men won’t see your email address. They’ll contact you through the site.
• Mom: Oh. How tall am I?
• Me: [Really? Really are you asking me a question you know the answer to?] 5′3″.
• Mom: 5′5″?
• Me: {Red in the face with rage] No. 5′3″.
• Mom: Okay. Thank you. I won’t bother you again.

5 freaking minutes later.

• Me: {Even more irritated than before.] Yes?
• Mom: What’s my body type? Slender, above average, curvy, a few extra pounds?
• Me: Are you serious?
• Mom: Yes. What do I put?
• Me: Slender because that’s what you are.
• Mom: [Irritated because of my tone.] Fine. I’ll just do this by myself.

Wait a second. What the hell is she getting pissed about? I already told her that I didn’t want to talk on the phone and she thinks it’s okay to harass me with something she’s done 10,000 times and ask me stupid questions to which she knows the answer? What’s next? Will she call me to ask me my sister’s name? No, wait, perhaps she’ll want to call me to let me know that today is Thursday and tomorrow is Friday.

Apparently, she took the hint. I just called my sister to give her a little reading of this post (because we both enjoy mocking mom). She doesn’t have time to hear it right now. You see, she’s on the phone with my mom trying to help her with her profile.

Good luck, sis. You’re going to freaking need it.

Okay, apparently she did not take the hint because she just called me again and asked me to help her. I told her she’d have to wait until tomorrow. I would take the phone off the hook, but if she tries to call me for the one billionth time tonight and I don’t answer, she’ll think I’m dead at the bottom of the stairs.

My eyes!! My eyes!! I’ve done something horribly stupid and now I cannot stop my eyes from bleeding, nor can I get the image out of my head. Why, dear Lord? Why did I make such an incredibly stupid decision? Good God, maybe I’m still really sick. Perhaps the terrible infection that has caused me to miss 6 weeks of work is rotting my brain and impairing my judgement.

My eyes! The images will stay with me forever. I won’t be able to sleep tonight, and if by some miracle I manage to fall asleep-I’ll have terrible nightmares. In these scary dreams it will be me instead of that girl. Oh God, I may never sleep again. Ugh, my stomach is seriously freaking churning.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

No doubt some of you have heard that Vern Troyer (AKA Mini Me from the “Austin Powers” franchise) made a dirty movie with his now ex-girlfriend. [Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth for a second.] Well, TMZ happens to have a little clip of said film. Gross. Vomiting in my mouth. Granted, what they show is pretty tame, but it’s still enough to make me want to vomit and die-though not necessarily in that order. Why did I have to go and watch it? WHY??

Ugh. I might have to throw myself down the stairs to end my misery.

Disgusting. Freaking gross and nasty and vomit-worthy.

Here’s the thing. I know that there are some of you out there that also enjoy making some pretty bad decisions. Consider yourselves lucky, kids. Here’s the link to the TMZ clip. I warn you: make sure you haven’t eaten anything before you watch the clip.

Must go and vomit now.

I have returned from vacation!! The picc line is gone, I’m still not at work, I have about 60 comments to respond to, and I haven’t caught up on anyone’s postings.

God, I’m totally beat. Let met tell you about how thrilling my day has been: I woke up at 7:00 to let the dog out, then went back to bed until 11:00 (3D and I were up late “talking”). Spent 20 minutes cleaning his shower and bathroom sink. Unloaded the dishwasher. Took a shower. Then I played on the computer. All of this is making me tired and I’m considering going back to bed for another 2 hours. Or maybe I’m tired because I haven’t had anything to eat since 9:00 last night. Who knows. What I do know is that being off of work is exhausting!

Next Monday I go back to work-no more life of leisure for me. The prospect of getting up at 6:30 in the morning and being trapped in my cubicle or attending boring meetings doesn’t really appeal to me. What I am looking forward to is seeing my friends, having more time to post (that’s all for you, kids), and feeling like I’m actually productive. I could totally get used to this whole not working thing, though I’d have to have more to do than run errands and do chores. Chores and I, we don’t mix.

The other thing I’m looking forward to is my social life picking back up again. That whole being-in-the-hospital-and-practically-dying really puts a damper on the social life. Kind of hard to go out and get your boozy suzy on when you’re too tired, on antibiotics, and sporting a stupid picc line. Last week on vacation, though, I did enjoy a little bit of booze. Then on Sunday night, to celebrate the removal of the picc line, 3D and I drank an entire bottle of Prosecco. Is that wrong.

Tonight is going to be a very special night which really does signify the return of girl dates! I get to see Muffy and Lola tonight AND I’m going to have a cocktail with them! Woo hoo!! Then I’m coming home and getting some.

What could be better than that?

Okay, people, we’re in day 5 of vacation and I have a thrilling announcement to make. Ready for this one? I think you should probably sit down for this one. Go ahead, put your drink down and have a seat.

Okay. Ready?

Tomorrow morning, 3D is flying up here and joining us for a few days. He has officially been invited to join us on our little family vacation. Poor bastard doesn’t know what he’s in for. First of all he has to sleep in his own room, though he does get his choice of 3 twin sized beds. Second, the room that he’s in is right next to the kids, meaning that he’ll be up by 5:30 every single morning. Please to enjoy. Finally, I’m on my period. He will have come up all of this way and won’t be able to go anywhere near Vangalina Jolie. Maybe if he’s really lucky I’ll get super bitchy and Simone will make a very special guest appearance.

Poor guy. I did warn him…

Still, it’s exciting times and I can’t wait!!

Why, Cape Cod? Why? How freaking hard is it to find a hot spot with wifi around here. The people that we rented the house from lied and said there was wifi. After 6 hours of trying to connect to the internet, and having a slight panic attack, I left the house. I’m not parked outside of some freaking A&W that is currently closing and stealing someone’s signal.

I’m a thief. Also, it’s pouring so the windows are rolled up and I’m starting to lose air. I have a problem. I’m addicted to the web. I managed to survive blood poisoning and some crazy ass infection. I survived the trip up here with 2 screaming toddlers, and a family fighting over directions and what hotels to stay in. I even managed survive sitting in the very back of this stinking SUV. But this lack of oxygen may be the end of me. If I die in this car tonight, I want you to know one thing-I didn’t have a rootbeer float tonight.

Click here because you don’t want me to die.

Today’s the day. I’ve been waiting almost 4 months for this day to come and I’m ready to freaking go. It’s vacation day!! I barely slept last night, managed to pack in about 15 minutes and am totally ready to roll out the door.

I’m packed, the house is clean, the bed is made, and I can’t freaking leave. Neighbor Care is supposed to be delivering the final dosages of my iv antibiotics any second now. Yesterday they gave me a window of 9:00-12:00, and I’ve been sitting on my couch since 9:00 this morning. It is almost 12:00 now and they’re still not here. Bastards. Every 10 minutes I happen to look out the window in hopes that I’ll see the delivery guy. No such luck.

11:53: Is it that much to ask that they just get here early so I can pack myself in the SUV with 2 screaming children and drive for 9 hours or until someone is near death? Come on!! I’m freaking ready to get out of here!! Super, guess I’ll just keep sitting on my couch staring out the window every few minutes.

11:59: Here’s what I imagine will happen. They will not end up delivering until about 4:00, and they will experience my wrath. What’s more, they’ll probably also experience the wrath of my mother as she’s also ready to hit the road. Maybe I should just call her and tell her to bitch out Neighbor Care now so they can still make their scheduled delivery time. Is it wrong to use her powers of making others cry for evil instead of good?

12:01: There’s a really bad new version of “Sweet Home Alabama” on the radio. Here’s a question: why can’t people just write new songs/movies/TV programs instead of recycling old stuff?

12:05: Maybe I should eat something. I’m so freaking hungry. Oh, wait, there’s no food in the house and I can’t leave. Great, maybe I’ll pass out from hunger and won’t be able to answer the door when they finally show up and then I’ll die on the floor and won’t get to go on vacation. This is not going as well as I had hoped.

12:08: I can’t find the Neighbor Care number on the web. Do you realize what this means? I’m actually going to have to get up off the couch, walk 8 paces, and rifle through my bag for the number. I barely have the energy to type this post, much less move off the couch. Lack of sleep and food will do that to a person.

12:10: On the phone with them now. They are officially 10 minutes late, but “should be on their way.” That’s code for “we forgot to put your order in and are going to send someone out in the next 2 hours.” Ergh.

12:12: Still not here.

12:15: I’m starting to get angry now, and you don’t want to see me when I’m angry.

12:16: Know what makes me even more angry? They offered to drop the stuff off last night between 7:00 and 9:00, but I told them no. You see, I took 3D over to my sister’s house for dinner last night. I really wanted pizza. I should have just stayed home and we’d be on the road by now…

12:20: F this, someone is going down (and not in a good way)!!

12:24: Okay, I give up. I’m just going to take a nap and they can wake me up in 2 hours when they get here. Bastards. Thanks for ruining everything.

I was 24 when I moved out of my mother’s house. It was my first time living on my own, and I’ve been doing it ever since. At first I was afraid that I’d be lonely and I’d miss being around other people. That’s never been the case. Instead I found an incredible sense of independence and pride that I was living on my own, in my own space, with my own things. Knowing that I can do what I want when I want is refreshing. The thought of living with another person makes my stomach hurt.

For some years, my mother has been trying to convince me that we should buy a lot of land together, and build 2 houses on the lot. This gives me a headache. There is no way on this earth that anyone could convince me to move that close to my mom. I love her dearly, however, sometimes she forgets that I’m 34, and thinks I’m actually 14. When I mention that I’m going out with friends, she wants to know who I’m going with, where we’re going, and when I’ll be home. Sometimes she asks me to call her when I get home-which I never do.

There are times that she takes it even further. For some reason, she can’t seem to get it into her head that when I’m at work, I may actually be working. Yes, it’s true. There are days when I find myself in back to back meetings and am unable to take her phone calls. This sends her into a panic. Inevitably I end up with 3 panicked phone calls from her, 2 from my sister saying that my mom is freaking out because she hasn’t heard from me in 3 hours, and then an email message from my brother-in-law. That’s right, my poor brother-in-law gets drawn into the mess too. My mom will call my sister, who then calls my brother-in-law, who then has to walk over to my building to see if my stuff is at my desk. It’s ridiculous. I’ve mentioned this to her a number of times, but she just can’t get it into her head.

Yesterday, she scared herself so badly that she nearly had a heart attack and died. Since I got sick a month ago, I haven’t been leaving the house too often. Sure I’ll venture out from time to time, but it’s not as if my social calendar has picked up. It just so happens that yesterday was a busy day for me: I had therapy at 10, then lunch with 3D, followed by a pedicure, and some errands I had to run. When I was through with therapy at 11:00, I had 3 voicemails on my phone. The first one was from my mother, and from the tone of her voice, I was sure that someone had died. The next two were from my sister warning me that my mother had gone into panic mode because she’d been trying to get in touch with me for 45 minutes and had no idea where I was.

As I was listening to the last voicemail, my phone started ringing-mom again.

• Me: I just got out of therapy. I’m fine.
• Mom: [Enraged] You are so irresponsible!
• Me: I’m fine. I was in therapy and I didn’t know you were trying to call me.
• Mom: [Yelling at me like I had never heard before. Imagine yelling at your 12 year old for stealing your car keys, going joyriding in your BMW, and then holding up a liquor store. That's how she was yelling at me.] I am furious with you!! You cannot do this! You could have died! That catheter could have come out of your arm and you could have bled to death! And I don’t even know this boy you are dating!! I need to know where you are at all times!
• Me: [Stunned silent and wondering what 3D has anything to do with this]
• Mom: They [Neighbor Care that delivers my antibiotics] have been trying to call you to schedule a delivery and you were nowhere to be found!!
• Me: I’m fine. I didn’t get the messages. FYI: I’m not 12 and I can’t imagine what on earth you think I was doing that I would have torn the entire 41 cm of the picc line out of my arm and bled to death.

This was not the appropriate response as she decided to lay me out for talking back to her. Umm…am I 14? Am I really? Because that’s not what my driver’s license says.

The doctor has cleared me to go on vacation, and the iv is coming with me. I can only imagine the joyous time that I’ll be having with her checking on me every 15 minutes. Maybe she’ll send me to bed early, or make me sit at the table until I eat all my vegetables.

Oh! Or maybe she’ll ground me and take away my TV a phone privileges.