Because of the myriad of health problems spread for glorious public viewing between Bryan and myself, I've been forced to become somewhat of an expert in the field of nutrition.

Bryan is a type I diabetic, meaning he requires one shot of insulin as a "base" for the whole day, as well as a shot of insulin from a Novalog pen after each meal, the dosage to be determined by the carbs consumed at each meal. I am a former sufferer of kidney disease, post transplant, meaning everything I learned in the hospital when I was diagnosed is wrong, and everthing I do now is doomed to heartbreak.

Apparently if you suffer from both kidney disease and diabetes, the only things you can eat are grapes (to keep your blood sugar up) and iceberg lettuce) to keep your blood sugar stable as well as balancing your potassium/protein/calories.

I have decided this is bullshit.

1)Why am I paying the Cleveland Clinic money to tell me things about the "typical" post transplant diet" that I don't need because I am technically 104 pounds, instead of the 160 I was "supposed" to be come February.

2) Why is Bryan being told by one party that the vegetarian diet is perfect for diabetics hippies, and yet being told that every food is evil by the hospital?

3)Why is every dietician except for the one I called a "miserable cunt" while on dialysis a fat cow? (Ironically the one I screamed at and threw my grapes at was the one I liked the most...and I think his was pregnant...)

It's hard to shop for food when the person who's supposed to watch calories is too skinny, the person who should be counting carbs is prone to 15 pound weight fluctuations every three months needs to "count carbs" and both of us need a delicate balance of Protein and Potassium.

Nevertheless, I am able to somehow able to glance at "The Diabetic's Healthy Exchanges Cookbook" by JoAnna M. Lund and pick a recipe that is both appropriate for both diabetics and post-transplantees, even though at one point I was told that someone suffering from both afflicitons could eat iceberg lettuce and grapes, and that was pretty much it.

At this point, if i'm not charged the $25,000 they're trying to pin me with for surgeries (and they shouldn't as I had THREE types of health insurance at the time...), I'm thinking of continuing my education. Should I get my Paralegal? Or should I go back for Science?

I LOVE Science. Obviously, it's a lifestyle for me. Nutrition, physics, chemistry...they all go hand in hand for me.

I've come to the conclusion that if I took Science and ended up as a nutritionist, I'd either gain fifty pounds, or tell some asshole doctor to go fuck him or herself, or both. Let's be honest here...I'd do both. Let's be TOTALLY honest here...I do half of the able once every few months. So while Science is my first love, not counting my fiance or Star Trek, I think as a career choice it's probably not a good idea.

But that's OK. If I did it for a living, I'd probably end up not caring, which, given my condition, is not a good idea. So I think I'll continue to watch PBS and Discovery, and yet stil push papers for the man, since that seems rather profitable. Hell, at least there's health insurance in it.

This would probably make more sense if I hadn't had that Bloody Mary for dinner, but what the hell. It's filled with Antioxidents. Antioxidents! That's good enough for me, damnit.

I'm going to bed.

I'm not even going to pretend to justify the fact that I'm posting about celebrity gossip. It is what it is. Today's topic is Britney Spears--a decline? Or is it?

Let's all face up to the fact that it's not as though Britney Spears was the best role model on the planet to begin with. She was a package deal...mediocre singing ability, some damn good PR people, a once athletic body, and an ability to work a crowd. She didn't have to do too much public speaking, she just had to look sexy yet wholesome, shake her thang, and unconvincingly deny allegations of sex and/or plastic surgery. We didn't hear too much from Britney, because she wasn't "Britney." She was a business. Of course lots of people loved her!

Of course, America can only stand so much saccharine, as you may guess by looking at the average waistline in this country. We didn't want artificial sweetener...so the PR people decided to introduce skimpier and skimpier clothes and raunchier lyrics and dance moves. I believe there was a nose job, as well as another breast enlargement to enhance what had been once enhanced before and then taken out (and if you don't believe me, look at the pictures.) By the age of 18 she'd had her career and her body manipulated by dozens of executives who were salivating at the money she was bringing in. Still, we didn't hear too much from Britney herself.

I'm not sure when the change set in, but at some point during the "sexy" phase something happened to good old Britney. Maybe she changed managers, or PR people...either way, she started to get just a little more tacky as time went on. The roots...the fake tans...the clothing. But I don't think this was Britney "declining." I think this was the real Britney who had been hiding behind a shiny plastic veneer all along. This is the Britney who was more of a real person. She reminded me of a lot of those girls you see hanging out at the mall all the time.

When she broke up with Justin, we started to hear more from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Again, I won't call this a decline or a downward spiral...we were hearing HER, not some middle aged music executive words coming out of her mouth. And then she took some time off. Had some knee surgery, met Mr. Federline, took up smoking...I don't know what happened. Maybe she woke up one day and realized she wasn't living her own life and got good and pissed off.

People started bashing her and calling her fat (and at this point she'd really only gained about ten pounds...not a lot, considering she'd had knee surgery). There were a lot of ghastly trucker hats which I WILL not stand up for, because trucker hats are the scourge of Satan and a nice Southern girl should really know better. She was seen out and about with yesterday's makeup smeared all over her face, her skin broke out and she never brushed her hair.

"Where has Britney gone?" people would lament, posting pictures of her barely legal, airbrushed body all over the internet. But Britney didn't go anywhere...in fact, during those tender years of 14-19, THAT'S when we should have been asking "where's Britney?"

And now she's 24, she's married, and she's starting a family of her own. What's so bad about that? Did we think that she was going to stay 18 forever?

Now, a lot of people have blamed Kevin Federline for her "descent," saying that if she only divorced him she'd return to her former svelte, pushed up glory. But I don't think that's the case...I think, if anything, that Britney's been having a really hard time under the pressure and scrutiny. I think that sometimes she says and does things that don't make sense because 1)she's gone through a lot of changes and lived a lot of life in a very short time and 2)she was NEVER a rocket scientist, so I don't know why we expect that she would be. Did we think all those years when we never heard more than sound bites out of her mouth that she was hiding a nuclear physicist's brain under all that platinum hair? Nah. She's just as dumb as the rest of us. She has a flair for the melodramatic and she's taken to speaking and acting without much foresight...something we're all prone to, I just might add.

Here's the thing about Kevin. If he were really as bad as all that, wouldn't Britney's bodyguards just beat the shit out of him? She has millions of dollars---she doesn't have to put up with much. Now, I hate his music just as much as the rest of the world seems to, and I think he has overly high expectations of his own talent, and maybe he always looks like he douses in a vat of grease before leaving the house, and he thinks he's a pimp, and he has a ratty mustache......actually, as I typed all that I forgot what I was going to say that was good about Kevin Federline. Ah...yes.

At least he's trying to have his own career. As much as people like to bitch about him, you rarely read about him doing anything REALLY stupid which is more than I can say about some other celebrities out there. He married up...good for him.

For all we know, she's the crazy one who wants to hold desperately to glory, and he's the sane, grounding element in her life. I think people want to point the finger at someone for staining their beloved former Mousketeer, and that those same people are all too quick to forget someone's 55 hour marriage, the allegations of former bodyguards and even former ex-boyfriend, Justin Timberlake. I'm just saying.

Don't cry for Britney, America. If anything, she's come home. And I bet she's a lot happier doing what SHE wants to do for once, instead of what WE want her to do.

I LOVE Star Trek Next Generation. I love the elaborate makeup, the bad female actresses, and the thinly veiled social lessons spun by the great puppetmaster himself, Jean-Luc Picard. And sometimes Reiker, who could be MY number one anytime Captain Picard needed a stand-in, if ya know what I mean. Not that I watch Star Trek for the tight uniforms and the gratuitous half-naked episodes where Patrick Stewart strides around in an open vest, or in little briefs as he did today. That man has some shapely legs, although that was not the main thing I learned (though probably the most exhilirating.)

I had the pleasure of watching a double header tonight---two episodes on G4, sandwiched in between some show I've never heard of, and The Man Show. I came away from each feeling fufilled, thoughtful, and a little wiser.

In episode one, I learned that while we can learn the most by observation and playful experimentation with ourselves, others, and our environments, sometimes our good-natured curiosity can really be hurtful to someone else. And I learned that rather than getting mad and screaming at that person or threatening to "shiv" them (my usual mature response) sometimes a gentle taste of "what it feels like" is just the thing to make someone understand. Yes. Star Trek told me that revenge is OK, under peaceful conditions. Is it any wonder I love this show?

In the second episode my lessons were many. 1. When you vacation in a foreign place, make sure you're not prominantly displaying some sort of sexual artifact on your drink table. 2. If a woman is smart enough to confound a Ferangi, she's probably smart enough to confound you, too. 3. Being a sneaky underhanded harlot is apparently the best way to woo a Star Fleet Commander. I'm not quite sure how I can work number three into my daily life (or number two, really) but I'm sure one day I'll think of a way.

I also learned (not from Star Trek, but from W. C. Privy's "Bathroom Reader") that you "should never wear anything that scares the cat." I believe it was P. J. O'Rourke who said that. Or some other famous guy. Something like that. Probably pretty good advice, except that one of my cats, Jerome, is afraid of the things in the mirror, so I guess by default I'd have to say she's afraid of EVERYTHING I wear, since she runs away from my reflection. I have no intention of going to work naked, because it's air conditioned and I'm constantly spilling hot coffee on myself, so I suppose that lesson is something I'm going to have to follow sparingly.

Speaking of Star Trek, and things that are potentially a bad idea, what the hell is "Star Trek 2.0," anyway? Call me old school, but I'm a wee bit skeptical. I guess I'm hesitant to go where no lady has gone before, which is a statement I guess can also apply to the trunk of my car, which I THINK may still have a deep fryer in it, something I have no intention of dredging up.

God, I'm a nerd.

I apologize for last night's medicated bitterness. As I said, one of the side effects is mood swings, and it always cheeses me off to hear about other people having to go through unnecessary suffering. (Note I said unnecessary: if you steal my parking space, you WILL suffer!) This morning I'm feeling better. 1. I have a gallon of pickles in the fridge. 2. My boss isn't in today. 3. I'm going to make Jello shots.

Those of you who are in town on Saturday around 7ish are more than welcome to come up for the Browns game and goodness. It was going to be a housewarming, but as most people can't make it, I think it's just going to be a Browns party. And I don't want to hear any comments about how they "suck." They beat the Lions, didn't they? I mean, that's a start. Kind of.

After being on 5 mg of Prednisone since April, I've become pretty bitter about the fact that I still have a fat double chin. I decided to do a little googling on the side effects of this horrible drug and now I'm pretty pissed off at the whole medical community once again.

If you are ever told your "only option" is to go on Prednisone long term, tell your doctor to go fuck himself. They'll put you on a super high dose, refuse to taper you, and conveniently forget to tell you that the side effects are often just as detrimental as the condition they are trying to treat.

Why do doctors love Prednisone so much? Why, because they'll spread their legs for anything insurance will cover...I remember being on dialysis and having them try to force feed me these Phospherous binders (the big ones that cost hundreds a bottle AFTER insurance) that I didn't NEED, because my Phospherous levels were consistantly perfect, which I knew because I watched my bloodwork like it was a full screen version of Snakes on a Plane. All in the name of kickbacks treating every patient as though their condition requires ten thousand pills science. *cough*

Here are some of the things I'm STILL dealing with, despite being on a "very low" dose for so many months:
HORRENDOUS double chin. In the past week I've had several people say that from the neck up in pictures I look like a fat person. I'm thinking of getting a veil that covers my neck.
Inability to sleep through the night.
Joint pain.
Severe muscle cramps.
Night sweats.
Super swift hair growth, which may SOUND fun, but isn't really when you're wandering around with Nair all over your arms trying not to touch anything.
Sore gums.
Thrush, which can cause your tongue to swell oddly for no apparent reason.
Extremely easy bruising.
Weird skin tone.
Inflated blood pressure.
Tired eyes...and much much more. Next time I go to the doctors I'm going to demand they start my taper again. This is the drug of Satan. If you can avoid it, do it.
Oh, also for some reason I'm the only person my doctors have EVER seen who hasn't gained 45 pounds, and even THEN I still had odd fat distribution when I was on a higher dose. You know what's fun? Getting a kidney transplant so you don't retain so much water/have such high blood pressure/to fix one of the complications of diabetes if applicable, and then going on a steroid that causes water retention and high blood pressure and fucked up blood sugar! Yes! GENIUS!
Apparently it also causes dementia and suicidal thoughts, osteoperosis, and even DEATH if you stop taking it too suddenly. Huzzah! "Miracle drug" my pasty freckled ass.

I'm pretty sure there are better things out there, but Lord only knows why they're not available to us. When your doctor pulls out that prescription pad, tell him to suggest some alternatives. And then punch him in the throat. Or suggest that maybe HE take some, if it's all that dandy. Not that I would suggest violence, or poison by a very common, readily available, "miracle drug." Heck no. That would be illegal, and we all know how I hate to break the law. Or other peoples' bones. *shifty eyes*

I'm posting pictures of all the things I've been up to. It's going to be a huuuuge picture post, and you can reach it by clicking on the "photos" tab somewhere to your right on this page.

It's probably not going to be safe for dial up, so beware.

Dear tan Chrysler,
You know what the best part of my commute home was? It was the fact that even though I made it from downtown Cleveland to my little suburb in about 15 minutes today, it still took me almost another 15 minutes to go approximately 4 miles, thanks in great part to your insistance that the speed limit was 20, when it was in fact 45, then 35, and then 25 for about 100 feet. Gosh, you sure are a careful driver! I also appreciated the way you sat IN the intersection after the stoplight by Drug Mart turned green, rather than proceeding through the intersection, which you did with caution and after much start and stop speculation. It was very entertaining. In fact, when I said those entertaining four letter words really loudly, I was thinking of you the whole time. So thank you, for proving that once again, people in Lorain County obviously like to drive while under the influence of heavy narcotics. There's really no other explanation.

In other news, I'm going to Michigan this weekend to see Snakes on a Muthafucking Plane with Joe C. And to maybe attend a pigroast, which will be tricky since I don't technically like pork.

Also, I've been approached by four photographers in the past five days. Apparently people like the idea of taking pictures of my pasty freckled ass after a few beers for free, so I'm just going to throw out the open invitation right now: if you are a photographer, and you want to take pictures at the wedding, go right on ahead. Do what you want. Just send me the doubles, please. I figure I'm going to end up with a handful of sets of wedding photos, all by different artistic people, and that's actually pretty cheap for mecool. *shifty eyes*

Oh my God, I am so happy to have a DISHWASHER!!!!! It is so glorious I'm going to spell it out: d-i-s-h-w-a-s-h-e-r, tra la la la la! You finish your cup and spoon, and you rinse them, and then you load them on a little rack, and eventually when all the racks are full you turn the dial and BIZAM! Twenty minutes later and they're all CLEAN! No scrubbing! No more water all over my shirt! No more dish pan hands! I can use a different cup each time I want a cup of tea and I can wash them all with the flick of my wrist! Oh happy day! Oh happy day! *shakes booty*

My throat hurts like that of a "lady of the night" due to this stupid cold that only affects me so strongly because I'm not allowed to have an immune system, due to this alien kidney sitting somewhere in the vicinity of my right hip. I've named it Skippy II---the kidney, not the bloody immune system.

I got up to try a few home remedies that I found on the internet. Louise (the cat) is helping. Apparently she thinks that crawling all over me and biting my feet and hands while purring is going to work. And it might...maybe if I try to wrap her furry body around my neck and wear her like a scarf her purring will improve circulation, but I'm loathe to bring her anywhere near my jugular, since I'm pretty sure she's hungry, hunger being the only real motivator for her to cuddle up to me. Hell, I can't complain, she learned it from me. Where was I?

Ah...throat remedies.

Well, I decided since the internet's a veritable plethora of misinformation, why not apply some of it to my tonsils?
So far I've tried gargling with salt water (not bad...still sore, but took the edge off) and tea with honey and lemon, which has stopped some of the coughing and kind of soothes...a little. The internet says to gargle with lemon water, and hell, if the internet says so it MUST be right so I'll be trying that as soon as I feel up to running to the sto' to purchase more lemon. I'm also going to try various other remedies such as Chamomile tea, ginger tea, and apple cider vinegar after visiting Giant Eagle. I know this is absolutely riveting stuff, so I'll post the results as I try them in the hopes of misguiding you all amd continuing the great Online tradition.

Until then, I'm off to take some NyQuil, read some Pearl S. Buck because I'm a biiiiig nerd, and maybe I'll even get some sleep. What a novel concept.

1. Sprawl in the chair of the person two career steps above you with your feet all over his deak. Talk to the other people in his department while gesturing grandly with the knick-nacks on his desk. When he comes in and catches you, jump up and deny that you were sitting in his chair. Ask him where he's been and why he's not "working."

2. If you have an in-basket, you can fashion a guitar out of it with rubber bands. I took a lot of time on mine, adjusting the bands by tying knots into them so that they're tuned very closely to a real guitar. I also went through the bands, selecting them for thickness, width and tone, and ended up lining it with a file folder for resonance. Turns out I'm not the first person to have done this...I'm thinking next week the Processing department and I are going to have to jam.

3. Make a map of the department as though it is a town. Include everyone's desk/cublicle/office and assign them a landmark, such as "Stephanie's Sweet Shop." Make the boss's office the county Sheriff's department.

4. Remember, you're not creating a useless email forward---you're practicing you power-point skills.

5. Medical stories are fun. Get a group together and talk about your scars. If someone has an office, it can be fun to shut the door and show them off. This also works with tattoos. Sometimes gender screening is required.

6. Remember, going to GET lunch doesn't count as EATING lunch. Do you really need to clock out?

7. It can be fun to rearrange the knicknacks people have in their work spaces. It's even more fun to kidnap them, take pictures with a camera-phone and email them ransom notes.

Above all, when you're wasting time on a day the boss is out, or the system is down, or just on a day when you're sick of the corporate job thing...you're getting PAID to act irrseponsibly, gossip about celebrities, and look up bizarre news on the internet, and it sure beats doing it at home while unemployed for free.

Everyone at work ended up with a fun, 4 day cold, so of course I have to have it too. I feel like ass, so naturally this means it's absolutely nothing serious and since it came on in 24 hours it'll probably be gone just as swiftly. Until then I'm drinking lots of tea and soup. My throat feels like I was kicked repeatedly in the neck by a big, burly guy named "Bubba." And I'm pretty sure that DIDN'T happen, although I did spend most of the night knocked out on cold medicine, so heck, it could have happened.
You should mail me lozenges.

I'm aware this isn't the newsflash of the century, but...well...people are idiots. Certainly I include myself in this rash generalization. We sign things without reading them all the way through, we always think we're right, and we watch "24." Really, isn't that more than enough evidence right there? (While I may include myself under the category of "idiot" I do NOT include myself under the category of people who watch "24." I like to think that there's a line, and I have drawn it in the sand.)

Today I'm going to bitch about credit, because bitching is what I do. Let's consider this a little lesson in Credit Management from Someone Who Knows, Although She Is Not Allowed to Really Say Why or How She Knows Due to Potential Liability Factors. I am going to attempt to raise our Credit IQ here.

If you sign a lease, as the main party or as the co-signer, you are RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEBT. I don't care if the car blows up ten minutes after you bought it, and neither does the Evil Finance Bank. Sue the car company for the amount of the debt, plus court costs, and whatever else your happy ass wants to sue for. Evil Finance Bank does not CARE that Evil Car Dealer sold you a lemon. That's not their problem. Their problem is you. Fix it.

If you sign for something (car, house, whatever) as a business owner so that someone else can use it and you can get the tax write-off, even though it's being strictly used for business purposes, not only is it technically fraud, but if they're missing payments---guess what---you are now responsible for the debt. That's what happens when you sign for financing. You are LIABLE. Also, when the matter of the debt comes in question, DO NOT say that you just bought the property in your business name for the tax write off because not only have you FAILED to prove yourself unliable, you have also just admitted to a pretty big bad illegal activity right there.

Lastly, when negotiating with a creditor, do not threaten to kill them...that will come back and haunt you, too.

Also, if someone has stolen your credit card, and you're afraid you're going to be sued for that money (or if you ARE sued for that money) you do need a police report. If you are AFRAID to file a police report, it's probably going to be assumed that it's because you're up to no good. Yes, it's a hassle and the paperwork is a pain in the butt, but it works. Don't be so damn lazy.

If you're having trouble making payments on things, call your banks. Tell them. Ask for forebearance. Ask them to lower the interest rate. Ask for a payment plan. You can even ask to settle it in full for a smaller amount, although most people wouldn't know it. When my kidneys failed, you bet your sweet ass I was on that phone asking for forebearance. And you know what? I had no problems. In fact, I'm doing pretty well with my own personal obligations, merely because I bothered to let some people know that I was laid off and sick.

Let's recap: read things before you sign them, don't sign anything you're not prepared to pay for, and be friendly with your customer service representative. Don't be a jackass, I guess is the moral of this little tirade.

Tomorrow's real-life lesson: how to accidentally piss off your boss.

You know what pisses me off? Besides bees, ending phrases with "at" and hot pink nailpolish, I mean. Conspiracy theorists. I mean, really. What kind of an ego must you have to believe that everyone in the world is out to make your day miserable? I especially hate the people who think the government has nothing better to do than harass them personally. I mean, why would the government waste so much time and money on YOU when they could go waste MORE time and MORE money on something even more ridiculous?

I think everyone wants to feel that they're "special" or in some way unique. And that's true...we are all special and unique. But we're not all USEFUL. If I were to suddenly disappear, I hardly think the world would run any more crappily than it already does. I personally cannot see what the government would want with some nerd who spends all day on their ass posting pictures of naked people with celebrities' faces pasted over them. I'm sure that's somehow one of the VP's duties, although I'm not technically able to confirm it. YOU'RE NOT THAT IMPORTANT. Geez, find some other way to confirm your existance or something. Get a part time job or something.

I think that instead of pushing horrible gun control billboards, maybe the Ad Counsel should take up the torch against introverted, egocentric people who get all their research from Wikipedia. Just a thought.