It's Official.

On Halloween I took the kids downtown do Trick or Treating and while we were walking I kept feeling the ole underoos slipping down.  At first, I kept telling myself it was just a little slip, no reason to hike them back up. That little slip turned into a whole ass. By the time we got back to the car, my undies were no longer over my ass, they were under my ass. I tried a few nonchalant (In my head they were nonchalant) grab and pulls, but these fuckers weren't staying.

So everyone I know, knows that I moved out here to Oregon about a year ago and all of my close people know I haven't transitioned well. It's been rough and when the rough stuff gets going, I get to eating. I'll be honest, I don't care about my body or my mind as long as I got a meal in my belly. These are coping skills, people. Look it up. Who needs a doctor when you got a Polar Pop and hot dog?

Now that you've got that little back story I need to move one to this morning. I'm getting dressed, about to take the kids to school, because that pretty much my only responsibility these days. So I am slipping on the White Cottons and they aren't really making their way over my boodie. Wham! It hits me. I have officially eaten myself into my underwear not fitting me anymore. The stretchiest piece of clothing I own is at it's max capacity.

You would think that I would immediately get on the horn with The Biggest Loser people, but I did not. I shrugged.

Hello, is it me Your Looking For?

While I don't suspect anyone is there anymore but I will say hello. The adventures of life have taken me here. To Oregon. It's been slow going but I am starting to enjoy life in Oregon. It took awhile to get it going and we all know I am as impatient as a bitch can come so this was not easy for me. There was crying, there was a lot of upsettedness like only I can do. Dishes in the sink, unfolded clothes, commercials... you name it. It either put me over the edge and I cried or got pissed off.

Rick is a trooper. He sticks by my whackjobbedness with great fervor. It's ok with me that he doesn't mind that I am and always will be batshit crazy. It isn't all bad for him, though. Don't feel sorry for him.

So what keeps us here? In the end. School. Not for me, of course. My kids go to great schools. Ohio can never compare as long my children have better futures here.

I love  you, Ohio. I miss you, sister, most of all. I miss you, house. I miss you, neighbors. I miss you crazy neighborhood guy who walks around with no shirt on looking scary as fuck but is really just looking for a few shiny things on the sidewalk. I miss you, 2 minutes away Walmart. All my childrens memories are there but we will make more. We already have.