Tuesday, February 28, 2006

In 5...4...3...2...

I'm looking at the clock, watching... waiting... I'm almost 37.

I'm actually looking forward to my birthday. How weird is that?

I've always HATED my birthday. I always set these huge expectations for some kind of magical day where everyone spoils me and tells me how fabulous I am. So when nothing magical occurs, I get pissy.

So I'm wondering why on EARTH I'm looking forward to my birthday? Well, I'm not so much wondering as I am standing in wonderment.

Here are a few traditions that I'm not observing this year.

We're NOT going to have a fancy dinner and a grown-up date. I told LoveBug to rest his little foot and I'll heat up a Nutrisystem entree and we'll catch AI.

I'm also NOT having birthday cake... not at work, not at home, not in secret.

So I've been thinking about how I want to celebrate the big 37, since I won't be blowing out candles. I could blow other things... but you know, it's MY birthday, right?

I decided to send 37 magical wishes out into the universe... one for each year I've been blessed to walk this wonderful earth.

(1) LoveBug will be back on his feet in two months.
(2) CadiBug and CuddleBug will fly through their FCATS without breaking out in hives.
(3) I will graduate this spring with a 4.0
(4) Manatees will NOT be taken off the endangered species list until they're no longer endangered.
(5) Scott will win his custody battle.
(6) #1 will find peace in spite of her mother's neglect.
(7) Scott will buy #3 a rat.
(8) #2 will also heal in record time.
(9) My mom will finally find her joy and song.
(10)Speaking of songs... I will finally see what a royalty check looks like.
(11) Marianna will find a way to get to Italy.
(12) Tim and Suz will thrive in their new jobs.
(13) I will be a milf before the year is through.
(14) We'll elect a democrat govenor.
(15) He will save the manatees and the Florida wetlands and the Scrub.
(16) The Bugs' dad will move to Florida.
(17) Scott and his crew will follow shortly thereafter.
(18) I'll make five new friends and we'll have coffee together... a lot.
(19) Nick Lachey will find someone hotter than Jessica Simpson, and live happily ever after.
(20) New Orleans will rise again.
(21) I'll spend a weekend at Atlantis in the Bahamas.
(22) I'll get more than three lottery numbers.
(23) My sister will smile every day.
(24) My kids will start to like each other, or at least pretend to when I'm in the same room with them.
(25) I'll forget what peanut butter cookies taste like.
(26) My ex mother-in-law will stop sending my kids peanut butter cookies.
(27) My dog will stop peeing in the house.
(28) No more soldiers will die.
(29) Tolerance will become the new black.
(30) My pile of laundry will disappear.
(31) Bloggers will stop hating on other Bloggers.
(32) Sephora will open up a store in my city.
(33) My kids will learn how to carry dishes to the sink.
(34) Christians will start acting like Christ again.
(35) I'll find something about the gym to look forward to.
(36) One of my photos will sell.
(37) I'll get to meet more of my wonderful Blogger friends.

Cool... it's like a to-do list that comes written on scented stationary, with a little genie attached and shit.

Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday Little Funky
Happy Birthday to Me.

In 5... 4... 3... 2...

This is Funky, and that is all.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Me-Me-Monday #59 -- I Just Keeping Finding Those Same 50 lbs

(If you want to know more about how to play, or you just need the HTML for this image, click on the image and it will take you everywhere you want to go.)

Last week covered #58 and my life-long struggle to lose weight AND keep it off.
58. Over the course of my life I've lost the same 50lbs.

This week continues my new journey at #59:
59. I keep finding them.

I'm pretty good at dieting. As my husband says, once I set my mind to doing something, I really do it 100%. But the truth of the matter is, once I lose that 50lbs, I find them again. Usually they come back with at least 10 or 20 of their friends. This last journey brought an additional 26 or so friends. As it stands, at the time I wrote number 58, I had about 76lbs to lose in order to reach a goal weight that I think is not only reasonable, but one I've never managed to reach in the past.

So I'm looking at that statement my hubs made this morning; once I set my mind to something, I do it.

So if I do it -- and then I don't do it -- what does my mind become "set" on that causes me to fall off the wagon and into a slice of apple pie?

There are a few things I've been able to identify -- those stumbling blocks that tip the wagon:

(1) I'm a stress eater.
The last time I did a truly successful stint was about three years ago with WW. I lost a lot of weight, going from a size 14-16 to a size 6-8. I looked healthy and I felt fabulous. But I fell off the wagon and ate my way back up the ladder. I looked at the timing of that event, and I remember going through an ordeal with my mother that completely threw me into a fit of despair. Is there something there? I'm not sure, but I do know that when I get angry or feel hurt, I immediately walk to the pantry and consciously put something evil into my mouth.

(2) I'm really afraid of being thin.
That's completely true. Fat is a barrier. Though I do not like the way I view myself when I'm overweight, and I certainly don't like the way I assume the world views me, there is a certain comfort in being undesireable. I KNOW that's weird, okay? But if I'm walking to my car after work, and it's dark... and someone drives by slowly... this voice in my head says, "You're fat, he's not interested."
This would make more sense if I had actually BEEN abused or attacked or some such thing. As it stands, other than two fairly benign occurances, I've never been either of those things. So where this fear and feeling of weakness comes from is anyone's guess.

(3) Inside me lives a fat girl.
When you're been overweight for most of your life, you don't know what it's LIKE to be thin. You have the psyche of a fat girl battling you every step of the way.

I imagine any one of those three things may be the reason why I keep finding that weight I keep losing. So this time, I'm facing the trio of demons -- and I'm facing them 100%. I WILL admit my fears, my weaknesses, and with much crying and humbling of my ego.

Because I turn 37 tomorrow. And that only gives me three more years to become a hot MILF.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Friday, February 24, 2006

So I'm Bad -- Sue Me

No Audio Post tonight.

Hey, I'm doing you a favor.

The mood that I'm in was sure to bring you all down to my level.

And friends don't let friends blog depressed.

I think it's the lack of sleep, coupled with the enormous pressure I'm feeling to keep it all together.

I also started my diet today.

And there was NO diet coke left in the fridge when I got home from work and class.

That probably put me over the edge, if you want to be honest.

So I'm just going to be nice to you and spare you my bummed-voice... and I'm going to be nice to me and get a good night's sleep for once.

I'll be back on Monday, all perky and shit, 'cause that's what I do.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

HNT -- Come a Little Bit Closer

Come a little bit closer
You're my kind of man*
So big and so strong
Come a little bit closer
I'm all alone
And the night is so long

*insert non-gender specific noun here


This is Funky, and that is all.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Don't Drive Angry

It's not like I left work in a good mood or anything. For starters, CadiBug calls me an hour before I'm off to tell me that I have to stop at Wal*Mart for some supplies she suddenly remembered she needs for a very important project due on Friday. I HATE Hell*Mart with a passion, so now I'm getting cranky. Then my $70 (on sale) shoes break a strap on my way to the car. How much more of a bad mood can I be in?

I'm sitting at the intersection and I can already see there's going to be a problem. Some rather eager commuters decided that instead of stopping for the red light, they'd just take up that silly extra room in the intersection... in the lane I need to be in... because I have the green arrow and the guy behind me is honking his horn, telling me to go where I cannot possibly go.

So, bad mood and all, I just go. That's when it happened.

This woman in a beat-up ol' car refuses to let me in my lane. Further, she leans out her window and says something which culminates with "stupid bitch."

I was stunned. Me? She's calling me a stupid bitch? She's the eager beaver taking up residence in the intersection, but I'm the stupid bitch?

I started mulling over her words... stupid bitch. And I feel that sensation in the pit of my stomach... I'm 13 again, and the boys are all watching me dive into the pool during PE because I have developed breast and pubic hairs, but they're not looking at me, they're laughing at me. Then I'm 8 again, and I've spilled milk on my pants midway through lunch, and I want my mommy.

But wait. She says, "bitch" like it's a bad thing. And "stupid?" Shit, I'm not stupid (furthermore, I'm not the one eating Big Mac in the intersection either.)

And I'm thinking all these things while being forced to drive behind her all the way through town.

That's when it happened.

That's when I stopped being so fucking passive.

That's when I decided that it's time for people to stop shitting on me.

So I stalked her. Since I was forced to follow her, I followed her good.

She changed lanes, I changed lanes. I stayed right on her bumper. The more I followed her out of town, the bigger my grin grew.

Then I took out my camera and snapped a picture of her license plate while stopped at a red light. Here's where she gets really nervous. She starts looking back at me in her mirror, and she picks up her cell phone.

She turns off the main road.

I follow her.

She winds around the lake.

I wind around the lake.

She speeds up, I speed up. She slows down. I slow down.

Then I got bored and let her off the hook. Because really, I've got better things to do than follow some stupid bitch through town. I've got to go to Hell*Mart and get some glue.

Anyhow, to the owner of this vehicle:

Think twice before you call someone a stupid bitch for trying in interrupt your chewing exercises. I'm just under a lot of stress, and clearly looking for some amusement. However, there are a lot of people who might do more than follow you through town for shits and giggles.

Yes, I consider it a public service. I may have saved her life. Or, maybe I just felt like being a stupid bitch. Who knows?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

An Update on LoveBug's Leg

LoveBug aka GimpyBug and I trekked over to the Ortho today for his follow-up. We were really feeling so optimistic. Over the weekend we were actually able to get out a little bit. He walked through the mall with his crutches, and stopped for some coffee at Barnies.

We took the kids to their various and assorted hangouts and had a grown-up dinner at Sam Setzers.

It FELT like things were beginning to return to some semblance of normalcy.
Sunday he felt better than he has since he broke his leg. He was able to put a small amount of pressure on his foot and not wince. It all looked so promising. We had visions of a walking boot and a release to drive, dancing in our heads.

Imagine our sadness when the Ortho said, "Looking good, coming along, rest, elevation, no pressure."

Click to play video

(I know it sounds like I'm making fun of him, but this is how we communicate. When one of is us sad, the other one makes a stupid joke. Don't knock it -- it's how we got together in the first place.)

So, other than getting rid of his Una Boot, we're still at square one.

And it breaks my heart. Send him some prayers and healing thoughts, for his leg AND for his spirit.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Me-Me #58 -- I Found That Weight You Lost

Welcome to another installment of, "Come ON -- tell me the WHOLE story!" otherwise known as "I love to talk about myself", and in a pinch can be called Me-Me Monday. The object of the game is to refer to your 101 Things About Me list, pick one of your "things" and tell the whole sordid tale. If you're new and you want to grab this image for your post, see the instructions at the end of my post.

58. Over the course of my life I've lost the same 50lbs.

I've jumped ahead to #58 because it reflects a journey I'm once again embarking: my struggles with weight.

I wish I could go back to the beginning and tell you when my struggles with weight began. But I can't really remember a time when I wasn't dealing with this issue. I have childhood memories of trying to hide something inside a baggy sweatshirt, being chided by my father for taking an extra pat of butter, refusing to wear shorts in 90 degree heat.

I've never owned a bikini.

I've never felt comfortable in my own skin.

I can remember the first diet. It had something to do with beets.
I can remember the next diet. It had something to do with faux dieticians.
I can remember praying away the pounds.
I can remember when Atkins was my savior.
Then it was low-fat.
Then it was Weight Watchers.

Let me just say that I'm a very successful dieter. When I set my mind to losing weight, I do it.

I'm just not a very successful "sticker."

At some point I bought into the idea that diets don't work.

Well, neither does NOT dieting.

So here I am again, on the verge of starting a very strict, very scary, regimine.

I picked up my debit card on Saturday and ordered an entire month's worth of food from Nutrisystem.

An entire month.

No turning back.

Am I scared? You bet!

But for most of my life, I've fought this battle of the bulge. I'm always tired of fighting, but I'm more tired of being tired. I'm tired of hating the way my clothes look. I'm tired of layering. I'm tired of wearing black. I'm tired of counting the "Xs" in front of the "Ls". I want to take my six 6 skirt BACK out of the back of my closet.

Yesterday I felt like dancing. I tried to do a pirouette, and my knee gave out.

In 8 more days I'll be 37. Three years after that I'll be 40.

I don't want to be 40 and still fighting my fat. Fighting gravity is bad enough.

And I don't think dehydrated mail-to-door food is going to save me.

But I have to do something to start the saving process. My knees want to dance.

If there's anything I've learned in my struggles to maintain a healthy weight, its that I never know which diet is going to be the last diet. I do know that there won't ever be a last battle, until the war is won. It's called hope, kids. And I've got it in spades.

So here's to losing that same 50 lbs again.

Let me know if you played so's I can give you that linky lovin!

Here's the instructions for scarfing up this image for your Me-Me Monday:
Make sure you replace the parenthesis with < > .

(a href="http://funkybug.blogspot.com/")
(img src="http://static.flickr.com/29/43386062_d480de8e1d_o.jpg" border="0")(/a)

Remember... no "()", but "<>"

This is Funky, and that is all.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Live Drive Friday 4

this is an audio post - click to play

Here's your non-audio recap:

Slutty-ugly didn't show up for class tonight! I start out feeling sorry for her, and end up going into a rant.

LoveBug/GimpyBug is doing better every day.

And I'm okay with graduating without the ceremony. I still earned the right, right? Right. Once again, I get by with a little help from my friends. Y'all poured some mighty fine drinks, and I thank you.

HNT -- Nothing to Wear

Overworked and Underdressed

You see that pile of laundry in the upper right corner?

Seriously -- I need a maid.

This is Funky, and that is all.


Wednesday, February 15, 2006

When Did I Earn THIS Karma?

The day before my husband broke his leg, I stopped in my college office to apply for graduation. They gave me a form, told me to fill it out, and told me to bring it back.

Last night I was sitting in lecture hall and the professor brought up the college website on the monitor.

Graduation deadline was Friday, February 10th.

I had completely forgotten it with all the excitement of nurturing GimpyBug.

I called my guidance counselor today and pleaded with her to no avail.

I've busted my ASS for my 4.0 so that I could walk with honors. I'm Phi Theta Kappa for Christ's sake! I made the goddamned National Dean's List!

And because I missed the deadline by four days, I don't get to walk.

I can get my diploma.

But no walky.

I'm beyond upset about this! It overshadowed the entire day. It even lessened my giggles during House M.D. It put me is such a horrible mood that the nasty comment I got on yesterday's post didn't even cause me to blink an eye. Call me whatever you want, Freaky. Your insults pale in comparison to being shunned at graduation.

Somebody cheer me up.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Happy Valentine's Day!

Let's make this short and sweet, shall we?

Go spend some time with the one you love.

Thank you all for filling my days with sweet, affectionate, friendship!

Happy Valentine's Day. If you don't have a sweetie to share this day with, then go love yourself.

Oh god... that didn't come out right at all.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Me-Me #18 -- The Second Marriage

Welcome to another installment of, "Come ON -- tell me the WHOLE story!" otherwise known as "I love to talk about myself", and in a pinch can be called Me-Me Monday. The object of the game is to refer to your 101 Things About Me list, pick one of your "things" and tell the whole sordid tale. If you're new and you want to grab this image for your post, see the instructions at the end of my post.

Before I start, I've had a few people ask how they can join. Well, kids, it's simple; just jump right in! If you have a list of 101 Things, you're ready to start. If you don't have a list, you can tell us a story about YOU YOU, and that will be the beginning of your list! No, you don't have to ask! But if you want to, let me know in the comments that you played, and I'll give you a link in my sidebar so all the Me-Mes can visit all the You Yous. Good? Cool.

18. I married my current husband at 34.

Remember last week when I told you about the love that opened my eyes? This love set me free from myself. It was every bad love song lyric, every tacky Hallmark card, every poorly cast Lifetime Movie for Women.

But it was real. And it was me.

Some time after my divorce, I set about dating. I knew I should take some time for myself, be by myself, but I was like an addict. I loved who I was when I was with him. I hated who I was without him. I had to fall in love like that again. And he was there through all my dating ventures. I remember calling him as I was driving to meet my first date. He was my sounding board, giving me courage to put myself out there again, reminding me that I was beautiful and worthwhile. I tried to do the same for him, but I secretly rejoiced when his dates went bad...when the Russian told him she thought he was wearing a wig...when they just didn't return his calls...even when they just didn't live up to his expectations.

Then something happened; we both found someone. Someone almost right. Someone just close enough to perfect that we thought we could settle into it for awhile. And I wasn't happy for him. And he wasn't happy for me. And neither of us told the other.

And some months went by, maybe even a season. I called him one morning. I had walked my someone to the door, closed it, locked it, and knew I wouldn't be seeing someone anymore. In fact, I was done with someones. And I called my love and confessed to him that as long as he held my heart, I was his. And until he let go, until I let go, I wasn't dating someones anymore.

And he told me he was mine.

And I asked him since when?

And he said since Valentine's Day, when he was dining with a someone and realized that he was thinking about me, wishing she would say something funny, wishing she had brown eyes.

And I asked him what this means?

Six months later he was standing in my state, in my sister's front yard, helping me sell my life in incriments of 25 cents. Two weeks later I arrived in his driveway some sixteen hours away.

He had a balloon waiting for me. It said, "Welcome Home."

He had no idea, truer words were never spoken.

Because I'm never more at home than I am in his presence.

And we were married almost a year later.

Because who wants to waste their time hanging with someones, when you can be with the one?

Happy Valentine's Day, Baby Mine.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always.
As long as I'm living,
My Baby you'll be.

Let me know if you played so's I can give you that linky lovin!

Here's the instructions for scarfing up this image for your Me-Me Monday:
Make sure you replace the parenthesis with < > .

(a href="http://funkybug.blogspot.com/")
(img src="http://static.flickr.com/29/43386062_d480de8e1d_o.jpg" border="0")(/a)

Remember... no "()", but "<>"

This is Funky, and that is all.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Live Drive Friday #3

this is an audio post - click to play

Uh-oh! Looks like Blogger is going back down in about a half hour. What is WITH them lately? Don't they know I have HNTs to look at and friends to visit? Bastards.

So for those of you that don't get into audioblogging, here's the Live Drive Friday recap.

LoveBug has an Ortho seeing him now -- talk about breathing a sigh of relief! Unfortunately, the report wasn't as good as we'd hoped. While the break was fixed quite nicely, the swelling is much worse than would be expected at this stage in the game. So they put a special wrap on his foot and leg which comes off tomorrow for more x-rays and a look-see at the progress. It could take anywhere from 3 months to 2 years for him to be fully healed. Will ya' all agree with me that 3 months is just about long enough? Cool, thanks.

School was awesome this week. I got an 'A' on my biology test, and I got to develop some negatives tonight. I took my son and his skateboarding buddies out over the weekend and took some shots of them sailing through the air. Tonight I processed the film and made a contact sheet. I'm really happy with the results of my first assignment. LoveBug says he'll scan the negatives for me this weekend. Hopefully I'll be able to show you my shots early next week.

It's been a good week - a really really good week. It's amazing how well I get by with a little help from my friends.

If He Ever Gets Sponsored

Have a beautiful weekend.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

HNT Manatee

I was trying to work up something with a hint of sexy, but my manatee kept getting in the way.

See how happy he is? He's smiling and everything.

I think he likes you.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

You Can't Waste a Good Stomp

Because I have a paper on aneuploidy syndromes, which is due in a mere few hours, Funky is on autopilot. Please enjoy a tale from my archives of not-yet-published drafts for just such an occassion. Yes, the pretzels are old, but they are NOT stale.

My husband approached me in the kitchen and asked, "Are you yelling at me?"

I replied that no, I was not yelling at him. I was yelling toward CadiBug in an attempt to get her to stop yelling INTO the phone.

LoveBug says, "Are you sure?"

I replied that yes, I was sure.

"But I heard you say, 'The electrician is here, stupid.'"

I'm not sure how he got that from, "I can hear you from across the house!" but apparantly he did, and additionally, he thinks I would call him 'stupid' for no reason.

This led to a discussion of name-calling. Have I called him "stupid" ever? Well of COURSE I have, but only in jest (or in the privacy of my own brain when he really pisses me off).

"Yeah, that's what I THOUGHT, but there was one time you called me an 'ass'."

Well, I did NOT do that!

"Yes, yes you did. The night I drank too much tequila and you caught me staring at that chick's boobs, and I denied it even though I knew it was true and I got mad and stormed out of the room and slammed the door. I heard you say "ass" and I remember it clearly because I remember thinking, "Oh my god I've really pissed her off. That's what she used to call her ex-husband!" And so I know you've called me names in anger before."

So I ask him, well if you knew I was pissed, why didn't you come back? Why did you keep going?

"Because I'd already stomped out of the room. You can't turn around and waste a perfectly good stomp."

Well that's just retarded, stupid!

And some people think relationships are hard work. Hmpft.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Kim Says I'm Having an Identity Crisis

So by now you've all checked your bookmarks to make sure you're in the right place, haven't you? I assure you, you are. FunkyBug has sold her collection of butterflies and purchased a bar. Pull up a stool, and let me get you a martini. I'll tell you a story and then we can take the tour.

I started blogging back in November of '04 because I was tired of trying to update my webpage's diary. It was a LOT of work, and I don't like lots of work. I'd been hearing about these blog things for awhile, so I decided to get myself one and link it off my webpage. You'll notice that my webpage is no longer affiliated with my blog. There's a reason for that, but I think we're jumping ahead of ourselves.

I fell in LOVE with the blogging community. Instead of having one of a million webpages in the universe, I had this little ol' blog in a slightly smaller but much more fascinating pond. Within weeks I decided that my blog looked gross. I commissioned a new template, but I really had no idea what I wanted. I called my blog The Wisdom of Funky Bugs because "Funky Bug" was my screen name elsewhere, and wisdom was what I longed for the most in life. So the designer shopped around for some bug-related images, and there it was -- my template.

Oh -- do you want that martini dirty? One olive or two? Okay, where were we?

After a few months, I started writing things I would never want the "real" world to know about. I just couldn't stop myself. I had to bitch about my mom, my kids, my co-workers and friends. The link from my website (bearing my real name) to this blog suddenly disappeared. It was like cutting a string and letting the kite sail to the sky. I was free.

If there's anything I've learned over the last year of blogging, it's that my friends here in the blogosphere make me a better person. I've seen glimpses of true humility and the incredible power of the human spirit. I've found myself praying for people I've never met. I've had strangers send me beautiful works of art, or visit my husband in the hospital. I've had authors send me books. I've had hackers teach me HTML. I've made friends who are willing to tutor me in biology via Yahoo!Instant Messenger.

My new template is not an identity crisis, dearest MongaKim. It's a thank-you to all of you for all you've given to me. I realize that I may never meet most of you, but I do get by with a little help from you all, my friends.

Grab your drink and let me show you around.

The Affiliate Establishments are my other pieces of real estate I've aquired over the past year. HNT Archives is a gallery I hang my works at. Adventures in Cyberia is neighborhood where I play with my blogger friends. La Meme is a shoebox under my bed where I stuff all my Meme tags.

Regulars are the non-blogger people I mention on a regular basis... namely, my family. You'll see them from time to time, drinking my liquor or stealing my pretzels.

Seated at the VIP table will be a blogger I'm trying to get you guys to socialize with. If you stop by and you see someone you've never met before, please pull up a chair and chat with them. Drinks are on the house at the VIP table.

Since I get by because of YOU, you all are my bartenders. These are the people that regularly supply me with the stuff I need and love. If I've missed you, please let me know. I keep this list at the door, and the bouncer can be really nasty if he doesn't recognize you.

The House Band changes as I see fit. I encourage you to play attention when the artist is on stage. My music fits my mood, and it tells you a lot about what kind of service you'll be getting when you come by for drinks.

I know when a new place opens up, it's not always easy to find it. I posted the Directions because apparantly this is how other people have found their way to the bar -- at least that's what the keyword people tell me.

If you wake up the next day and you feel hungover, you've probably had too much to drink. Try a bit of the Hair of the Dog that bit you -- somewhere in my archives you'll probably find the remedy.

I drink here often, and as such, I have quite a Bar Tab. These are the places I'm in debt to.

So listen, I need to go mingle now. Feel free to have another drink, and stick around for the show. There's a good seat at the table up front.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Me-Me #17 -- The Divorce

Welcome to another installment of, "Come ON -- tell me the WHOLE story!" otherwise known as "I love to talk about myself", and in a pinch can be called Me-Me Monday. The object of the game is to refer to your 101 Things About Me list, pick one of your "things" and tell the whole sordid tale. If you're new and you want to grab this image for your post, see the instructions at the end of my post.

17. I divorced my first husband at 32. (Cory, I think this is the last week I'll be picking on you.)

The decision to get divorced does not happen overnight. It also doesn't happen cognitively, as far as I'm concerned. I think the thought creeps up on you slowly, the realization that you've already left hits you like a ton of bricks. But the decision is not instantaneously made with a list of pros and cons. At least it wasn't for me.

That's not to say there wasn't a "OH!" moment, but the actual variables materialized over time.

When my bestest friend in the whole wide world found his whole wide world crashing down around him, he took all of us along for the ride. His once boring, suddenly painfully exciting life was a rollercoaster we all screamed through. We suffered as he suffered, clung to hope as he clung to hope, and rejoiced during his brief moments of respite. One of his respites was a saving grace called Divorce Source. Tired of telling us every day "how things are going" or what he was "feeling," he just gave us the link and allowed us to follow his saga from the privacy of our own homes.

Even though I was not divorced, even though I hadn't given it much conscious thought, I got sucked into this world where people were trying to get over a bad marriage and move on to a better phase of their life. I wanted to talk to them, but I didn't want my friend to know, so I created a fake persona in order to communicate with the other women -- to hear their stories, and perhaps to assure myself that quite possibly I would be able to move on myself... one day.

It was here at Divorce Source that I struck up a friendship with a man who was looking for some support to help him cope with the sudden departure of his wife and child. The friendship blossomed so quickly that it knocked me off my feet. In six weeks' time, we met. Somewhere before that, I knew I was in love with him. In six months' time the friendship blossomed into romance and wilted into impossibility.

I hid it for awhile, then finally confessed it to my husband. I still wasn't sure I wanted out of the marriage because we had kids to think of. My husband agreed to open our marriage to the possibility of polyamory. The problem was, polyamory means you love more than one person, but I hadn't loved my husband "that way" in a long damned time.

When the relationship ended, one would think that I would have settled back into my marriage. Yet now more than before, it was not a possibility. I had tasted real romance, passion, fire, and mature adult love. In the ten years since I married young, I had grown up and pinpointed what it was that I wanted in a lover and partner. I knew that having tasted it, I could never go back to living without it.

My husband was seeing a therapist and he begged me to go see him too. The nights of crying and sleeplessness were taking their toll on me. I agreed to go, and it was here that the "OH" moment happened. My husband's therapist asked me, "Could you be happier than you are now?" I answered an immediate, emphatic, "YES." He told me I had already made my decision, I just needed someone to help me admit it.

I moved out two weeks later, filed and signed a few weeks after that, and became a single woman just nine months after logging on to Divorce Source. It happened just.like.that. I never ever saw it coming, though it was coming for many many years.

I just want to add, for anyone that wonders, Cory and I have talked about my Me-Mes of late. He told me that he had read them, and that it's okay. He said, "we're good." He said seeing it like this makes everything make more sense. Who knew when I started telling these stories that I'd finally be able to say the things I should have said to him four years ago.

Let me know if you played so's I can give you that linky lovin!

Here's the instructions for scarfing up this image for your Me-Me Monday:
Make sure you replace the parenthesis with < > .

(a href="http://funkybug.blogspot.com/")
(img src="http://static.flickr.com/29/43386062_d480de8e1d_o.jpg" border="0")(/a)

Remember... no "()", but "<>"
This is Funky, and that is all.

Friday, February 03, 2006



First surprise would be that I never post on the weekend.

But that wasn't the biggest surprise, was it?

The bugs, the butterflies -- It's been about a year since I paid a pretty fortune for my template. It served me well, those many months. But it's time for a change. It's time for a new blog template, designed by moi.

I was actually going to do this in November when I celebrated my one-year blogging anniversary, but you know how time gets away from you?

But now it's time -- it's time for a martini. The bar is open, kids. Somebody pour me a drink, dammit.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Damn Lu, we gotta do something about these colors!

Live Drive Friday 3

scroll down for HNT

Vroom Vroom
Life Drive Friday

this is an audio post - click to play

Well, another week is coming to and end. Here's the recap for those of you that would rather die than listen to one more self-obsessed blogger yacking 100 miles/hour.

LoveBug has his Ortho appointment tomorrow! I'm almost as excited as I was when I thought the Colts were going to go undefeated. Let's hope this turns out better than their final bow against the Steelers.

It's been a good week, all things considered. I see my hubby healing a little bit every day, and it's good to see that in spite of everything, he's maintained his sense of humor AND his sense of adventure (Lord, help us.)

As for school -- I did pretty well (I think) on my Bio exam, and I managed not to kill Slutty Ugly in my Photog class.

Yes, it's been a good week.
And I'm looking forward to a good weekend AND my first photography assignment! Woo hoo!

Love and Kisses, Y'all. Have an awesome weekend.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

HNT -- Me & My Manatee

*posted via Flickr because Blogger sucks ASS tonight.*

Last week I dug into my archives to find a picture that expressed the level of distress I was feeling at being away from my LoveBug.
Me & My Manatee
With absolutely no fanfare at all, I introduced a series I had long ago planned for HNT.

Me & My Manatee

12-14-05 035-1

Allow me to introduce you to my manatee. He has no name -- he is just my manatee. I bought him a few years ago at the Lowry Park Zoo. Lowry is amazing in their committment to nursing injured manatees back to health. I spoke at length with one of the workers and became passionate about the plight of manatees at the hands of selfish and stupid boaters. I bought my manatee and took him home to remind me to work for the cause.

One night soon thereafter, one of our pillows came up missing. Now see, I have to lay my head on one pillow, while resting my face on another pillow. With one pillow missing, I was forced to cuddle up to my manatee. It was the best night's sleep ever. Since that time, I do NOT go to sleep without him. He is more important than my pillow or my blankets. He has become my security blanket, my cuddle buddy, my very special sleepy time friend.

So one night a few months back I shot some photos with my manatee. I will be exposing you to them, as I expose not only parts of my nekkidness, but the very childish side of me that now has to sleep with a stuffed animal.

This is Funky, and that is all.


Wednesday, February 01, 2006

And the Wheels on the Bus Go Round & Round... Updated at 5pm

*Update below*

For the love of GOD and all that his holy and/or represents some semblence of sanity, someone please explain the logic here:

LoveBug breaks his leg in Texas.
The surgeon puts a large railroad spike down the center of his leg.
The surgeon advises immediate follow-up with an Ortho here in Fla.

FunkyBug has called every fucking Ortho between Tampa and Orlando.

Here's where it gets *funny*, kids.

"Hello, I my husband broke his leg in Texas. He's home now after undergoing surgery, and we would like to schedule an appointment for follow-up care."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but the doctor will not accept your husband as a patient if he's had surgery in the last year."

Excuse me, but isn't that WHY we're calling? BECAUSE he had surgery? Someone grab my soapbox.

Follow the logic -- leg broke, surgery, bandages, staples, pain, care, brick wall.

I called my insurance company and they suggested we "wait until he's in pain, then take him to the ER for assessment. The ER will then refer him to an Ortho who will be required to treat him and assume his follow-up care."

Here's where the soapbox comes in; the insurance companies were the very entities pushing the Florida Legistlature to draft the 3 Strike law, which our ill-informed constituency voted in on the last cycle. This was supposed to "drive those bad doctors right out of Florida, upping the quality of our health care."

What it did was scare the bejeezus out of every practicing doctor. So now, rather than treat patients in need, they shoo them away for fear of having their license taken away. Three strikes (medical malpractice, which is as popular as Mentos) and you're out.

SO -- the insurance companies that pushed the issue are now going to pay 3x as much for my husband's care.

AND -- I get to sit in the fucking ER all damned day.

and I have a biology test tonight.

So -- anyone know why fat girls never get kidnapped?
Because it's so hard to get our ass in the car unless there's a pizza in the back seat.

Oh my god this is about the MOST frustrating thing I've ever experience, and yes that does include our actual courtship.

I took him to Urgent Care. After an hour, we walked out with two prescriptions and a "I'm sorry, but we cannot do post-operative care."

So we drove to the Emergency Room.
After listening to the nurse laughing over the actual incident that resulted in our current level of frustration, we were shipped to Fast Track, a little area of irony for ER patients without life-threatening issues. The doctor showed up some time after lunch and actually removed part of the bandage! I was shocked! I was thrilled! He pulled back a corner of the gauze and viewed on staple. We left a few minutes later with more prescriptions and a referral to an Ortho.

The Ortho he referred us to was the first of about a million to turn us down previously. I took great satisfaction in telling them that they had to see my husband now, because we had a REFERRAL.

So they scheduled us ONE follow-up for Friday at 11:30. That's all they're required to do. If he needs more follow-ups, we have two choices:

Choice 1: Sit in the ER and wait for another referral to the lucky Ortho on call
Choice 2: Go back to Texas for each and every follow-up.

Thank you voters of Florida! You fucking morons.

Here's my tip for the day. If you're out of your home state and you need emergency surgery, you might want to fly back to your local hospital to have it performed.

This is Funky, and that is all.