Fibromyalgia: AKA “this is just a nice way of saying you’re crazy and it’s all in your head” …

I’m a tough woman. I’m not a complainer. I distrust people who I perceive to be weak and above all, I am suspicious of those who cannot just suck it up.

Well, I don’t know if that attitude resulted in karma biting a major chunk right out of my ass this year, but my health deteriorated very rapidly in May and June, to the point that I could barely get out of bed some mornings.   I quit going to the gym because it hurt too much to lift weights.  I lost about ten pounds without even trying.  I lived on wine, ibuprofen and smoothies – the thought of eating made me sick.   Despite all of this, I showed up for work when I was supposed to, didn’t complain and no one had a clue how I was really feeling.

It was a struggle to get through some days – I actually thought I had cancer so finally made a doctor’s appointment. I was x-rayed, blood tested, medicated on various types of pain-killers and finally referred to a rheumatologist.  I had a two hour appointment (which is a freaking miracle in the Canadian health care system ).  I was poked, prodded, questioned extensively, bloodwork and x-rays reviewed, and finally told I don’t have rheumatoid arthritis (a good thing), I have moderate to severe osteoarthritis in parts of my body (not such a good thing).  That, however, didn’t explain all of my symptoms and the pain I was in, and I was told that I probably had something called Fibromyalgia.  That’s the rheumatologist’s best diagnosis.  And then she went on to tell me that there is a huge psychological component to the disease (if that’s what it is) and that I should seek counselling to work out stress in my life, and this whole thing is best handled by my family doctor.

Being the chippy, snotty woman I can be, I just looked at the doctor and said “So, you’ve just told me I’m crazy, there’s nothing wrong with me, and I’ve wasted two hours of my time and your time?” And I walked out of there just thinking “Kill me now”.

I acknowledge that there was some severe stress in my life this summer. But this came after I felt like I was going downhill.  I can definitely say I am not depressed.  I am generally extremely content.  Do I experience anxiety?  I do at times, but I can acknowledge that and it doesn’t overwhelm me.  Having had a shit-ton of therapy over the course of my life, I can also definitively say that I didn’t find it really helpful.  That could be because I’m not big into talking about how I feel.  Particularly when someone is trying to analyze me.  But, I am a prolific writer and I have always found writing a far more useful way to deal with things than talking to a complete stranger.

I feel like I’ve been told that I am now the kind of person that I just can’t imagine myself being – someone with a vague illness that is all psychological. I can’t stand it… And I will figure out how to fix this.


Hair, Scrabble & Men …

Clearly my life is sucking a bit at the moment as I’m actually writing another blog where I am mentioning hair. But I’m doing it as a public service announcement to all women who curl their hair.

So, take this as a warning. Don’t ever, ever, ever buy that hair curling thing that sucks your hair up into an automatic curl chamber and is supposed to magically produce a perfect curl.  My hairdresser told me about it and so of course, I immediately go out and spend $100 bucks to buy one.  I was so excited and had visions of beautiful curly hair (not my usual sucky, humidity laden curly hair).

Anyway, the first couple of curls at the front of my head – perfect. Then, to my horror, the curling thing sucked up my hair and wouldn’t release it.  I had the presence of mind to unplug it, but couldn’t get my hair to uncurl from the chamber!   After three minutes of complete panic, I got it untangled, mostly because I basically ripped it out and tore half of the hair out.  I am completely traumatized about this.  I nearly wrecked my hair using this stupid thing.  I realize that I’m not the most coordinated person in the world, and put the mishap down to that, however, nothing like this has ever happened to me with a regular curling iron or hot rollers.  This curling iron requires a level of manual dexterity that I obviously don’t possess.

I immediately returned it, and I’d like to thank Sally’s for bring super nice about the return, and not even asking me why I was returning it. That is what I call good customer service.

Moving on.. I had a party on Friday night for one of my clients.   Best office party yet!  For a small group that I didn’t think drank that much, they wiped out a case of wine and a huge amount of beer and rum.  I found a napkin in the morning solving an algebraic equation of some sort – they are such nerds.  The night ended with four of us, at 2:00  am playing a game of incoherent scrabble (which I won due to my creativity and skills in defending non-words to drunk men):

Scrabble at 2am

The man situation is now non-existent. I have tossed the married man.  He was getting way, way too attached to me and making trips to see me from Toronto.  I could see that this was going to end badly, and I like the guy enough that I put a stop to the whole thing before the shit hit the fan (for him, not me).  Not to mention that his sex skills could really be improved – Mata Hari has already told me that I should consider that a deal breaker, and KMS pointed out a few weeks back (and rightly so) that I wasn’t having a lot of sex with him because I couldn’t be bothered to have mediocre sex.  They both know me so well : )

I really need to get some excitement into my life as I’m actually boring the shit out of myself writing about mundane crap like hair, scrabble and dull breakups. Imagine what it must be like to be me and living this – I can only hope this is just a temporary dry spell deemed necessary for me to rest up for bigger and better things, hopefully sooner rather than later.

It’s possible I am beyond ridiculous …

Well, after I took this photo, I realized how ridiculous I am. Is it really a thing to put your hair extensions in hot rollers before you go to bed???????

hair extenstions.JPG

I love those hair extensions. Something about them makes me feel pretty.  It’s a subtle look, and people look at me, but can’t figure out what it is that is making me look a bit different.   I bow down to whomever is was that invented them : )

But really, I would never admit that I wear these stupid things!

Replacing men with guns (and having way, way more fun..)

Men:  Constant bullshit, ego-soothing and mostly mediocre sex..

Guns:  Constant fun, only need to worry about my own ego, and mediocre shooting is a challenge to be overcome, not something to be tossed from my life.

Go big or go home is my motto, so in keeping with that philosophy, I am now National Firearms Association holster certified : )

I cannot even explain how excited I am about this!!!  I blew off work and took a one-day holster certification course on Tuesday.  And, I have to say, it was completely amazing, intense and one of the most nerve wracking experiences I’ve ever had once we got out on the firing range and put things into practise.

I think anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I am a pretty confident woman who isn’t easily intimidated by things.  But holy crap, once that loaded gun was nestled in my holster, I was hyper-aware that the possibility of shooting myself in the leg or foot was pretty real.  Like shoot a hole in your foot kind of real.

That, not to mention the fact that I’ve never actually de-cocked a gun before.  Which, for some reason, scared the living shit out of me, and I had to do it with the gun I was using (a CZ SP-01 Shadow). It involves pulling the trigger gently while moving the hammer up.  Then the gun goes into the holster, ready to fire.  So, sounds simple, and yes it is, but all I could think was “I’m going to mistakenly fire this gun if I don’t move that hammer properly”.  Which would be considered a “negligent discharge”.  Which has been drilled into my head that is a very, very bad thing.

I just couldn’t wrap my mind around how this could possibly be even a remotely safe thing to do (even with the gun pointed down-range).  And yes, I did get it, and it didn’t even take me that long to get it. I chalk all of that anxiety over this up to me being a girl and over-analyzing everything, as none of the men on the course seemed to have one iota of an issue with it (and the only other woman had a SA so didn’t have to worry about it).

Anyway, once I got it, and we started shooting and doing drills, and I passed the test, all I could think was “this really is the most fun you can have with your clothes on”.

I guess I’m pretty hard-core now – my Friday night will be spent at the range shooting guns.  I hardly recognize myself : )

shooting v2

The most fun you can have with your clothes on…

In one word: Guns

I was in the valley with my red neck boys on Saturday and Sunday, and when they are involved, the guns come out, and the fun begins. God I love these guys – they tease me, mock my taste in men, let me shoot their guns until I can’t shoot anymore, plus they buy me dinner and supply me with as much alcohol as I want to drink.  And to top it all off, they never hit on me or have any expectation that I should have sex with them as repayment for all of this awesomeness.  That’s some seriously nice friends I have there.

We were supposed to go deer hunting, but had to change the plan due to circumstances that were mostly down to me. Anyway, thanks to them, I spent Sunday afternoon with a Ruger, a scope, a 30 round magazine that was filled more times than I can count, and shot the shit out of a whole lot of apples, targets, and even made some pop cans dance : )  It was beyond fun.  Particularly when I had a whole lot of shots like this:


And no, I wasn’t ten feet away – I did that from 75 yards!!

I’m still excited about it and that was four days ago. So you can only imagine how beyond excited I am that I got this last night:


Well, I am 100% hooked! Not to mention that I have found my new hobby – getting really, really good at shooting handguns.  Of course, as I would do, I pick an expensive hobby that is a bottomless money pit, not to mention the 45 minute commute in my gas guzzling vehicle every time I want to shoot a gun.

But, all worth it – this really is the most fun you can have with your clothes on, hands down! And actually, not something you could do naked as holy shit that would have the potential to go south quickly – picture hot bullet casings hitting delicate, naked flesh as they are ejected from the gun.  (As an aside, do nudists/naturists ever carry guns, and if they do, how does that work?)

So, in the interests of keeping the economy going, I am signed up for the Holster course next week, and the Level 2 pistol course in December.  Chippy NS Chick is going to rock that range!  And, I’m pretty sure my Christmas gift to myself this year is going to be a stunning new handgun, type yet to be determined.

There. An entire blog and not one man drama or complaining man word written : )

Seriously – I found this note in a plain brown envelope…

I was cleaning up my office this evening in the interests of not sitting in utter chaos and actually getting some work done tonight. I filed some stuff.  I stuffed a whole bunch of other stuff in a blue bag and put it in the basement in the hopes that the shredding fairy will come tonight and take care of it.  It’s looking pretty good – I can see the floor now that all the crap is gone:


And then I found a random brown envelope, nothing written on the face of it, but something made me look inside. I just about pissed myself laughing when I read it…

This is “Pretend Boyfriend” at his best. I have no idea when he left this in my office – but assume it must have been last December or January when he was hanging about here all of the time moaning about his wife. (Or, perhaps, he left it here when he was taking care of my house for me when I was in Cuba last February and having my fun liaison with the Hot Italian Hippie who wears Prada).

In any event, Pretend Boyfriend was probably wounded that I didn’t notice this gem and thank him for his clarity and insight into my life….



As I’ve said before: THANK GOD I AM SINGLE!

The red neck princess rocks the gun range…

Off I went on Saturday afternoon driving out to Hnatiuks with my music cranked to 70’s rock and roll as loud as I could stand. It just really seemed like an amazing prequel to shooting shit all afternoon.

I stayed for nearly three hours, and shot up a bunch of targets and now have a new strategy based on my observation of the guy in the next lane to me. Rather than the targets of the outline of person, he had these cool target practise things that I am totally going to use next time.  Yes, I am becoming slightly obsessed.

And major kudos to the range staff who couldn’t possibly have been more awesome and helpful!

Couple of my targets are below, and I’m pretty happy with how they turned out, although they are the last one I did. I shot 100 rounds of .9mm  (some of them in the centre of this target) and about 400 rounds of .22.  I really liked the Smith and Weston hand gun – fit perfect and easy to shoot.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a gun owner by the end of the year )

I liked this gun

I really liked this gun

Nice little grouping

Nice little grouping

Target practise

The 9 mm in the middle and then tried to group the .22 around the target.

And, my friend lent me his fancy ear protectors from when he was in the military, which I loved and now am on a hunt to get a pair of those. And I also need some way hotter looking protective eyeware than what is currently offered up.  I will take suggestions here

To top it all off, I have a range bag to keep my bullets, targets and eventually my guns in. Go big or go home I say  : )

I am totally loving this place and have signed up for the pistol course in November and talked to a guy about competitive shooting. In his words – “the most fun you can have with your clothes on”.  With a recommendation like that, I’m hard pressed not to check that one out.  I suppose if you did naked shooting, it could be unpleasant when hot shell casings blow back on you : )

I’m off to the valley to hunt deer with the boys this weekend (who gave this gorgeous present my first year of hunting in 2012. Yup, it’s pretty shiny – never been used as I suck at hunting, but it was pretty nice of them to get it for me : )


Presented to be in October 2012 – and give the name ‘The Red Neck Princess” at the same time.

I am determined to make J and B proud of me this year! They have taught me everything I know, and this will be the fourth year they’ve taken me hunting and they show nothing put patience, mixed in with a little bit of making fun of me – it’s awesome and I love it.  Plus they cook for me and we get to drink beer!

(KMS and LMK -Can’t you see why I’m totally and will forever be the number one squirrel  now???)