Buzz Feed, You Just Get Me

My therapist once asked  what I believe to be my primary coping skills.  My first reply was wine (of course). I then cited a long, hot bath with a good book, and random, mindless games or similar web searching.  Wine, a bath, and a book often do work wonderfully to cure depression or stress.  However, when anxiety also arises, I find myself unable to concentrate, so I frequently turn to sleep and mind-numbing activity to cope.  Such behaviors are an attempt to stop my brain from coursing rapidly through every single worse-case scenario one could possibly imagine. 

Satan's Children: Nightmares will ensue.

Given my extremely high levels of anxiety this past week, I ended up wasting a lot of time scrolling through hours of useless trending information on the interwebs.  I saw that damn mash-up of Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus’s face so many times that it appeared in my nightmares.  I learned what super bowl ads to watch for this coming weekend (because that’s important).  I also passed through several levels in god-damn, relationship- ruining Candy Crush, ensuring that there is now only one person on my friend list who has also passed the Soda Swamp.  Believe me, I recognize how pathetic said activity sounds, but it does indeed succeed in temporarily distracting me from the anxiety and depression. 

 

Aside : Anna Kendrick is expected to have a hilarious ad for Newcastle Brown Ale.  Just thought I should give you all the head's up.  You're welcome.

 

Me and Kanye: We're basically soul mates.

While my tedious time sucks served to divert my anxiety, an additional bonus is that I just so happened to learn several eye-opening (sarcasm font) things about myself this week thanks to multiple Buzz Feed quizzes.  First of all, I took the all-important self-concept affirming quiz, “Which Pop Diva are you?” Turns out I am Rihanna.  Who knew? Because “sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me” (except not really).  I then was so relieved to finally have an answer to the one question I have been pondering my entire life: "Which Rapper are You?" Of course you guessed it right. Yes, I'm Kanye because I "need to relax and accept that not everyone recognizes your amazing talent." Aint' that the truth, yo? I feel ya, Yeezus, I feel ya.

 

You might also be interested to know that if I were an 80s pop hit, I would be Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” because: “Sometimes you feel like a misunderstood outsider, but everyone adores you when you let down your guard and show them your sensitive side.”  Isn’t it so true, folks? You do love me when I’m vulnerable, and I thank you for that too. I also discovered, of equally high importance, that if I were a sandwich, I would be a grilled cheese.  I don’t even know what the fuck that is supposed to mean. 

But, alas, that is not all I gathered of myself.  Indeed, there’s even more; I told you I squandered a lot of fucking time this week.  If I were a dog, I would be a corgi. Hmmm …  I must admit I didn’t expect this one; I have always imagined myself as more of a Labrador.  All the same, I was quite pleased with the logic as, apparently, like the corgi, I “know how to be myself at all times without apology.”  In addition, the corgi and I also both have a “cute tush.”  I do have a cute booty, Buzz Feed! OMG!

Finally, here is the most paramount self-discovery I acquired from Buzz Feed all week (and, again, I spent like a shit-load of time there):  I should be a writer.  Yes, Buzz Feed! Thank you for this affirmation! Yes!

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What Career Should You Actually Have?

You are a maker. Creative from the day you were born, you spend most of your time thinking about the world you live in. You are open to new ideas and value beauty and originality more than most. We both know you’re not really the office type, so give yourself some room to create. Other occupations: director, producer, advertiser.

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I’m constantly having a discussion with others (and more frequently, in my own head) about how I might finally be ready to trust myself and attempt to make a career out of writing.  I do suppose I am already a writer per se, but I have never been paid, so it doesn’t really count, right?  I genuinely aspire to become an author, but that dream also terrifies me and prevents me from truly trying. 

But Buzz Feed has now changed everything! Now that this highly intellectually esteemed site has informed me I’m like a kick-ass grilled cheese sandwich with a cute corgi tush, I believe! Thanks, interwebs! I’m so glad you sucked me into hours of random, mindless quizzes because once I’m a successful author, I won’t need to cope with Candy Crush no more.  No more, sister, no more.  I’m retaining wine as a coping skill though.  Whether or not I obtain publication, you can be certain that I’m forever clinging to my wine.

You got: CEO

You are a visionary. You’ve always thought about the bigger picture and are most excited by new possibilities. Sure, you’ve been told to get your head out of the clouds every now and then, but what’s life without dreaming?! You might not be at the top just yet, but you’ll get there one day.

1. You got: Professor
   

   You are a thinker, in constant search of knowledge and answers to life’s most illusive questions. You love to analyze everything, testing out theories and pushing mental boundaries. Basically you’re an Einstein, but then again you probably already knew that.

 
And now, for your listening pleasure ...

                                     
                                         It's just so me, right?  Buzz Feed, you're  a genius.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And There was No Wine

I sat on the couch sobbing, “I’m so sorry I ruined Valentine’s Day. I’m so sorry I ruined everything.”

We had a dinner reservation in a town about thirty minutes away.  My spouse had asked my mother a whole month in advance if she was willing to babysit. It had been months since the two of us had actually been out together.  Date night is a rare occurrence in our house as we have a two year old and a seven month old.  It’s also become a rarity as means to save money given my current unemployment.

We had to cancel those reservations because I was too anxious and depressed to even leave the house.  I felt absolutely desperate in this most recent depression, afraid that this one was so bad I may never come out of such depths of anguish and lingering gloom.  So, I wasn’t just ruining one meal together, but I felt absolutely sure that I was also ruining my life, our marriage, and our family's future.  I honestly believed all of these things in those moments of despondency. 

However, as I recently regained some clarity, I realized that the situation was never truly hopeless, and reservations could easily be rescheduled.  Our date may not have happened on the holiday assigned to love.  However, we can just as easily celebrate our love and additionally celebrate renewed clarity and hope on any calendar day. 

As a component of my enhanced clarity, I felt a strong desire to solve the riddle of such a deep depression.  My moods were cycling and this low felt far deeper and more abysmal than it had in years.  It was such an entrenched, serious low and one I never, ever want to experience again.  Therefore, I began to contemplate the source of such a deep depressive episode. 

Well, it was February … and February is a bitch of a month, hiding the sun away from those of us who desperately rely on her rays to make it through each day.  Furthermore, I had also stopped taking my fish oil during my most recent pregnancy as it upset my stomach, and I never resumed my consumption of this natural mood beneficiary. I was still ruminating over my job loss and the injustice of the whole situation.  Finally, the obvious culprit (once I had regained any sense of clarity) was my most recent medicine change.

I still felt certain, though, that there was even more to the mystery of such an acute episode. Suddenly, it occurred to me.  There was a reason our Valentine’s Day reservations were not in our own town.  That reason is because we had ran out of wine in the house about two weeks before  and there’s really no fine wine to be found at our local liquor stores.  However, the town we planned to dine in had an extremely fine wine cellar, and part of my Valentine’s Day present was for my husband to purchase me a new stock of wine. 

Alas! I had solved the mystery of this latest episode.  It was the wine!  Damn! I didn’t need a new mood stabilizing medication. I needed some finely fermented medication.   I feel quite certain the psychiatrist will agree with this analysis when I meet with her again tomorrow morning, right?  This girl just needs her god-damn wine. Next year, I shall ensure a sweet Valentine’s Day by staying well stocked throughout these long, difficult winter months.

The Twelve Wines of Christmas

#ChristmasStress is trending on twitter.  In between their shopping and baking, billions of twitter users have still apparently found the time to bitch about the holidays to a world of folks that don’t really give a shit.  People are still complaining about Black Friday madness, the difficulty of buying presents for boys, and the detangling of outdoor lights.  Black Friday got you pulling out your hair?  Here’s an idea: don’t shop that day! And so what if your neighbor’s holiday lights are better than yours?  Is there a cash prize being awarded on your block?  If not, relax and avoid that Christmas stress you feel it necessary to tweet about. 

Unfortunately, for as much as we all bitch about it, I think the majority of Americans love the holiday stress.  Misery loves company, right?  What brings two co-workers together more than complaining about the mother-in-law’s deathly fruit cake? I have tried to make a point of doing only what I want at the holidays.  I like buying gifts; I like seeing someone’s face light up when they unwrap a present I selected for them.  However, I sometimes don’t find the perfect gift and so I just don’t bother.  My best friend and I have been exchanging gifts since the fifth grade.  Some years she gets a present from me, and some years she doesn’t.   I don’t buy her a gift out of obligation; I buy her a gift when I spot something that speaks to me (like penguins and reindeer do at Pier 1).  If I receive no gift from her this year it won't matter either because, as cheesy and cliché as it sounds, I already have everything I need for the holidays right here in my home – my loving husband and adoring children. 

Despite having everything I need, I did bravely venture out on Black Friday this year, although I knew it might generate some of that much tweeted about Christmas stress.  I didn’t go out in my hometown either – there were no door-busting deals at the Ben Franklin that I know of.  We were visiting family in a larger city – a city with a mall (big time stuff given where I live).  We avoided the mall like the plague, though, and also steered clear of all major chain stores like Wal-Mart and Target. I wasn’t in search of one specific super deal like a flat screen TV for $99.00 or Crock Pot for only $4.99. I didn’t need any $1.00 DVDs or fucking half-price Fidget Friends or Furbies (Why are furbies back?!?).

In fact, I must boast that I actually had the majority of my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving.  Given this, the primary reason I had to go shopping was because I was down to two bottles of wine.  Two bottles!  Therefore, my first stop was to the World Market.  I left the store having made zero purchases for friends or family members, and 12 bottles of wine for myself.  You want to know how to make it through the holidays this year?  Do it the Not Appropriate Angela way – sleigh bells and shit loads of red wine. 

 

My Shopping Cart on Black Friday

After the purchase of wine, although I had not actually consumed any, I felt confident and brave enough to venture to Toys R Us to see if there were any super values for my children.  Okay, I got annoyed as fuck with the crowds there and left with only one item: an aqua doodle.  My daughter needs this so that she stops giving herself face tats (this is what I call it when she draws on her cheeks). Although no great bargains were found because I lack patience, I am immensely glad that we stopped at Toys R Us as I overheard one of the best conversations ever. 

“Mommy,” the little boy in the aisle next to me said while tugging at his mother’s winter coat, “This year, for Christmas I’m going to tell Santa Claus our house burnt down so I can get lots of extra toys.”

His mother looked back at him, appalled, and said, “Honey, that’s really not a nice thing to do.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” he confidently replied, “I’m just telling Santa.  I won’t tell Jesus.”

So, go ahead my friends and get through this holiday season with Merlot, Cabernet, and Shiraz instead of holly and berries. Don’t worry.  I won’t tell Jesus that Christmas time makes you consume a bit more wine, and Santa clearly can’t judge you on overindulgences (as he approaches Diabetes with his cookie consumption).  Stop tweeting about your Christmas stress and simply start pouring the twelve wines of Christmas.  Merry Christmas to all and to all a fine wine!

The Twelve Wines of Christmas: Revised Christmas Carol

Do you think I can get Micheal Buble to sing this shit?