Might as well face it I'm addicted to.. Chapstick.

Hello my name is Booty and I'm addicted to Chapstick. {Hello Booty.} I don't really remember the first time I tried Chapstick, but I must have been pretty young. It has been a staple in my life for prolly decades now, but I really became aware of it in high school. Every where I went, I made sure I had a tube on me or planted tubes in the places I knew I would be. In my car, locker, backpack, jean pocket.. Madre wasn't too happy about that because she would often wash my jeans with the Chapstick still in them. If she didn't find it in the washer, it would take the Chapstick melting trip to the dryer, where it would proceed to ruin all the clothes in the load. But I didn't care.. I just needed my Chapstick. If for some strange reason I would find myself without Chapstick, a mental freakout would occur. I would break out into a cold sweat, and run down the list of known places where Chapstick might be. I would then consider changing my route to get some Chapstick, or just buy more Chapstick at the store. You can never have too much Chapstick. And I'm not talking about the generic, crappy, cherry flavored kiddy's chapstick. I'm talking about Chapstick brand chapstick, Chapstick Medicated. The kind of Chapstick that burns soooo good when you put it on. The burn signifies healing my dry, parched lips and turns them into luscious, plump, moisturized lips that could form my words with perfect, delectable ease.

I tried other brands, of course. Blistex, Burt's Beeswax.. You name it, I've tried it. I even went down the dark, dark road of Carmex. Talk about heroine for your lips. I only tried it once or twice, and the intense burn was sweet enough for me to know I prolly shouldn't be using it. I quickly went back to Chapstick.

For a long time, I didn't think I had a problem. Of course I would freak out if I didn't have Chapstick within reaching distance, but that was just something I had to deal with. Some people deal with absent fathers and life time illnesses; I dealt with always needing Chapstick close by my side or I would be in a bad mood. If I suddenly realized that I wouldn't have access to Chapstick for a long period of time (15 minutes or more), my lips would immediately get dry, crack, and torture for me for my stupidity of forgetting Chapstick. This was just my life. And I lived this life happily, dependent on Chapstick, but ridiculing others for their weaknesses and dependencies on drugs, food, people, etc. "You eat chocolate every day? You fat pig. Can't you control yourse OHNOIFORGOTMYCHAPSTICK!!! THE WORLD IS ENDING! Oh wait, I found some in my pocket. I can't believe you do that though. Weak."

I packed 5 tubes on my trip to Asia, all in different places. I couldn't depend on any country having my particular brand so I brought enough to last me the 6 months. Over in Asia, my lips were in especially good shape because it was so humid over there. Add on 5 layers of Chapstick and I had the plumpest, most moist lips possible. They tingled with delight alllll the time, prolly because I was constantly applying Medicated Chapstick, but I like to think they were just that happy.

Upon returning home, I knew I had a problem. I hated that panicky feeling I would get when I didn't have Chapstick within an arms reach. I didn't want to be beholden to anything, yet here I was, dependent on Chapstick. Completely.

I decided to quit cold turkey. I knew if I let myself have any artificial lip moisture, I would cave in and need it all the time. I had been using Chapstick for many, many years, so I knew it was going to be tough. However, I had no idea how tough it was really going to be.

The first week was agony. Who am I kidding, after 30 minutes I was sweating and pacing, thinking I had made a horrible decision. My lips immediately dried up, and I mean dried up.. I'm pretty sure my lips just forgot how to make their own moisture. My plan was to go without for a couple of weeks and then my lips would start creating that moisture all on their own and Voila la! No more addiction and hello supple, plump lips again. Boy was I wrong.

To Be Continued...

Musings about Midas

Sorry it's been so long. All of my mental faculties have been funneled towards work which equals less blogging. So, I took the laid back job and I am reporting back, 3 months later, that it is the best job. EVER. Shhhh, sssshhhh, skeptical ones. I know it's only been 3 months, but the environment and tasks I am given are so radically different than my other jobs that I can't help but have hope. My hope is that this job continues to be one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. Let me explain the awesomeness that is this job.
1. I can wear whatever I want at work. Which means, I wear jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes to work every day. Heaven.
2. Every day is different. Sooo important to me because I get bored very easily.
3. The projects I am given actually take more thought than a monkey possesses. This is a new one for me, as my past jobs required less brains than I could eat (none).
4. I get every other Friday off. I convinced my boss that this was a good thing and now Hbf and I get 3 day weekends together.
5. Ok, ok, I'll stop bragging. Just know that I am very happy right now and I want to shout it to the world, aka blog about it.

But let's get away from work for a second and talk about every day things that happen. Usually, I take Midas for a walk after work because I'm not a morning person and don't have the motivation to get up early and take him. Occasionally, he tries to persuade me by coming in the bedroom and putting his face real close to mine and shooting snot on me. It wakes me up, but now I'm pissed and don't want to reward that type of behavior, so I punish him by turning over and going back to sleep. He'll try to talk his silly whining talk, but I am verrrry good at ignoring this and he usually gives up and goes back to guarding the front door. And when I say guarding, I mean he sleeps so soundly that someone can actually begin opening the door and he still doesn't wake up. Some guard dog.. When I touch the leash, Midas immediately channels the spirit of a bunny and proceeds to hop all around the house to show his excitement. Once he calms down, he sits nicely and sports a 'red rocket' while I put the leash on him. If you don't know what a red rocket is, lucky you. Come to think of it, this always happens when he sits down. Is that weird? Maybe he was neutered too young. As he sits, he quivers with anticipation and occasionally squeaks. Of course, he has to sit there while I open the door and I'm sure that's the ultimate test of his self discipline because as soon as I say ok, he charges out the door to see what trouble he can get into. Once we're outside, the 'talking smack' begins. Midas likes to be as loud as possible so all the neighborhood dogs know he's out on a walk while they are inside. He whines, or talks, or whatever the hell it is he does, and waits till the dog responds with angry barks or comes to the window. He then proceeds to pee on their territory and kicks up his feet like a challenging bull. He knows, of course, that these dogs can do nothing to him so he proceeds to prance away, so smug and cocky. This goes on until he's out of juice and I don't let him stop to shoot his blanks.
On a walk last week, we were walking down the street, minding our own business, Midas was smelling everyone's business, when we came upon a house that has a fenced front yard. On this particular day, there was a very large dog in the front yard and he seemed to be very angry that we were anywhere near his house. He was barking, and running the length of the yard, and just generally intimidating. This dog was huge, and I remarked to Hbf how glad I was that there was a fence between us and this giant d... OH LORD THE FENCE IS OPEN! The dog comes charging out and immediately latches on to Midas' neck. Midas is trying to get at the gargantuan thing attached to his neck, I'm trying to pull him away and yelling to Hbf to run and get the owners and all of a sudden the dog lets go and stands there, somewhat bewildered. I think he was as shocked as we were that there was an opening in the fence. Hbf yelled to the dog to get back inside and to our surprise, he did. We closed the gate and that was the end of that. Well, my heart rate was at like 200 beats/min, but I eventually calmed down. We've never seen that dog again.
Sometimes Hbf accompanies me, although attached to his iPhone. He reads me news and reddits as we trudge up the hill, but a lot of the time he is a silent partner. I've started mandating 'no iPhone' walks so I can have someone to talk to other than Midas. He doesn't listen anyways and hardly ever responds.
On one occasion, we were walking Midas at dusk. Midas especially likes this time because the cats are starting to come out and he like to pretend he can chase them and someday catch one. But not today, not under my watch. On this particular day we were stopped at an unusual place on a down hill, and the yard was actually set up at our head level. Midas was sniffing a light pole and Hbf and I were chatting when we heard a rustling in the yard. We both turned and saw.. A skunk. Actually 3 of them. Babies. Right by our head. I don't think I've sprinted that fast since high school. My smelly good life flashed before my eyes. The last thing I wanted was to get skunk spray all up in my face. We escaped though, and only smelled like fear and sweat.
There are 2 grass patches that Midas insist on rolling in while eating the grass as well. I wish we had some sort of food that we could roll in while eating. Well actually that seems kind of gross. My mind goes to a giant tub of chocolate pudding.. yeah, gross. But when Midas does it, it's adorable. Lucky guy.