sookieeyesOkay, so, I’m going to be thirty nine this coming January. I can barely believe it. I don’t feel that old. I don’t believe I look that old. But nevertheless-39. Which means forty…40!…is right around the corner. Yikes.

There are things I’ve recently decided I need to accomplish before I leave my thirties and head off into the unknown territory of forty. Goals, if you will, to achieve throughout the year. A lot of them are things I merely want to improve about myself-both inwardly & outwardly. Some of them are things I’d like to do, some are things I’ve always wanted for myself.

1. Lose “the weight” for good. I want to be curvaceous, yet svelte.
2. Make exercise fun, instead of a chore.
3. Buy a brand new wardrobe.
4. Finish my novel & find an agent.
5. Take a fabulous vacation somewhere exotic.
6. Excel in bellydancing.
7. Start work on my short film project.
8. Stop being scared.
9. Try at least one new type of cuisine.
10. Take lots of pictures.
11. Try to be a less aggressive driver.
12. Perform at least one act of kindness a day.
13. Be a more thoughtful, kind, grateful person-go the extra mile.
14. Love myself more.
15. Acknowledge the Divine every day.
16. Put care & thoughtfulness into every action.
17. Finish a videogame. (Ha!)
18. Swim with dolphins.
19. Spend lots of time with my new little niece, Lexi—be a wicked cool aunt!
20. Make more of an effort towards my sister in law.
21. Forgive.
22. Hate less. Love more.

So, I think that’s enough to tackle for one year—whadda you think? *g*



….to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.
~Nelson Mandela

Wow. So, it’s been awhile. About a year or so, maybe? Have you missed me? *cutegrinwink* I’ve missed you. Really. *nodnod*

It’s time to come back, to dust off my blog and start pouring my heart out again about whatever crosses my mind. I got lazy before I left, the 2007 NaBloPoMo really took a toll here on things at Terminally Cute, though there are some gems there hidden amongst the rubble, I think.

I’m excited to get back to blogging! I’ve spent the last couple days cleaning up the place, changing out some links, and revamping a few things here and there. If you, my dear readers, have anything you’d like to know or questions you’d like to ask or any comments or complaints you’d like to make, just let me know and pop me a comment! I lovelovelove getting input from you guys and it feels so good to know that someone is out there actually reading my schtuff! *g* I’m also still on Myspace, and can be reached through there, just friend me. I do not have a Facebook page: I think Facebook is boring.

My goals for Terminally Cute in 2009 include blogging more consistently. I hope you’ll find posts here that will amuse you, make you laugh, and maybe even make you think about stuff in a different way. I’ll continue to post about my life and all that entails, but I’ll also not forget to dish about the latest celeb trainwrecks or give you my opinions on the latest in film, tv and books. I do love me some pop culture!

Now, how about playing some catch-up? *s*

2008 has been a tough year for me. Health-wise, I have not been at my best, and there were days I thought I’d never feel good again. We decided to change up my RA meds in the spring as the Humira just wasn’t working as well as it used to. I was having more flares and feeling uncomfortable more days than not. My rheumatologist felt that at my young age, there’s no reason we can’t achieve 100% on another med when I’m currently only reaching about 70% of how they’d expect me to feel on Humira. Well, prior to switching me to Remicade, I had to have a routine PPD test to look for signs of tuberculosis, and guess what, folks? Winner, winner, chicken dinner, I’ve got TB.

And as if that wasn’t enough, around the same time I was battling the WORST ear infection ever in the history of ear infections, all thanks to my compromised immune system. Yay. I was literally deaf in my left ear for the better part of a month.

Things did turn around though. My ear infection got better, no thanks to my ex-primary care physician who refused to put me on anything except the lowest dose of oral antibiotics she could prescribe. Thank the Gods she was out of town when I called after a few days of this treatment to complain of continued pain and ooziness. I got referred to the absolute best doctor, and suffice it to say, he is now my primary care physician. He set me up with stronger antibiotics and pain meds, as well as sent me to a specialist who sucked my ear dry with a little ear vaccum thingee and put me on even stronger antibiotics, oral and drops. Ahh, sweet relief!

Anyway, I digress. Back to my TB. They couldn’t start the Remicade because I was positive for TB. Craig and I weren’t exactly sure what TB was, but clearly being positive was not a good thing. We both began to worry. I had to go to the Health Department for treatment. Apparently, that’s the law.

At my first visit, it was explained to me that being positive for TB simply means I carried the TB antibodies, putting me at great risk for coming down with the disease, especially with my weakened immune system. I could have picked up the antibodies anywhere, but as I was negative when they tested me prior to the Humira, Craig and I are blaming my positive status on a uniformed soldier who sat behind us on a flight from Tennesee, coughing his head off the entire way.

I was given a strong antibiotic that I was to take for nine months, and I would have to come in once monthly for check ins and to pick up more meds. I had to stop my RA meds for a short span of time too. Needless to say, I was a hurting puppy.

Three months into the treatment, I was able to start on the Remicade. Remicade differs from Humira in that it is a three hour IV infusion given every eight weeks after the first two infusions which are spaced more closely together, whereas the Humira is an injectible that I would take at home every other week. I was very excited to get going. I just wanted to feel some relief. At this point I was experiencing a lot of pain all the time. My new primary care doctor had taken me off of the Darvocet, which wasn’t doing squat, and put me on a hardcore dose of Vicodin. After four infusions of Remicade, I still felt lousy. After a full body flare, in which every single joint was inflamed, I got put on methylprednisone. Ugh. My RA doc didn’t want to run the risk of doing any further damage to my joints once it became clear to him that it wasn’t working for me, so he took me off the Remicade and got me started pretty quickly on Orencia. Orencia is also an IV infusion, but it’s given once monthly and takes about 1-2 hours.

I just had my third infusion , or maybe my fourth, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and I’ve got to say I’m feeling pretty okay. *knocks on wood* So far, so good. Of course, I’m unhappy about the weight gain from the pred, which I’m still on, but slowly tapering off. I’ve actually lost 18 lbs so far, just trying to be more conscious of what goes in my mouth and watching my cals. Thanks SparkPeople!!! Exercise up until now has been completely out of the question, but now that I’m getting a little more perky and energetic I’m excited to start bellydancing again! I’ll start classes at The Goddess Hour in the beginning of January, but intend to start going to some cardio-strip classes this month, and maybe even try the Zhumba walk-in classes as well. It really all depends how I feel.

My health has really been the priority and the preoccupation of the entire year. Aside from that, there’s not much to tell.

We just spent a really quiet Thanksgiving, just the hubby and I. We did go out on Black Friday and pick up quite a few dvds and PS3 games, so Craig has been completely absorbed in Call of Duty-World at War as well as NHL ’09.

Here’s the thing with me and videogames. I love videogames, however, once I get bored or stuck, I end up losing interest and so I never finish a game. Ever.

I was bored over the long weekend with Craig so embroiled in Call of Duty, and so I dragged out a game I’ve had for a long while but never opened–Zoo Tycoon. Don’t laugh! It’s really fun. I stayed up every night until the wee hours, just building zoos. I’m totally addicted now.

What’s really hilarious is once you’ve built your zoo and everything’s running smoothly, just throwing a little chaos on into the mix. Picking up a few zoo guests and throwing them in with the Siberian tigers or throwing some penquins in with the polar bears or even just oops! accidently breaking down some cage walls and watching as your animals terrorize the zoo guests into a helterskelter-ish kind of pandemonium. Hearing their little screams and watching as they get tossed about through the air by some big bad predator is just awesome.

Yeah, I know, I have a pretty messed up sense of what’s funny. Good thing I’m not running the country, right? Ah, but that’s a topic for another evening! *g*

Sweet dreams!

Freedom at Thirteen

escape.png I remember I was about thirteen or so, and on my way to NY to spend July with my dad and “Miss Piggy,” my stepmother. I was miserable, of course, with the prospect of spending 31 whole days with them, not to mention all that time away from my friends & the beach. However, I was resigned to the unavoidable, and so I filled the nine hour trip by staring out the window as I listened to my Sony Walkman, finding solace in the musical renderings of Winger, Def Leppard, and Ratt.

The backseat was my refuge and I fantasized as I watched the scenery fly by, daydreaming mostly about horses and boys and escaping to the freedom that lay just beyond the window glass. While my father navigated the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I flew just out of reach, my long tangled hair whipping my face as I raced on a stallion as dark as night, hooves barely touching the red clay ground.

As my eyes traveled over the wooded hills and cliffs that bordered the expressway, my thoughts lost in a different world entirely, I was slammed back into the present quite rudely by the sight of a teenaged boy about my age, high on a hillside, pants around his ankles, equipment swinging in the breeze.

He seemed to be exhibiting himself to the passing cars on the turnpike, but he was so high up, no one would have even noticed him unless they were staring out the window as I had been doing. He looked happy, as evidenced by the huge smile on his face, and he waved at us as we passed by, our eyes meeting for the merest fraction of a second. I was so stunned at the strangeness of such a sight, I couldn’t even began to tell my parents in the front seat what I had just witnessed. They’d have never believed me.

And I realized oddly enough, I didn’t want to tell them. It was almost like I shared a secret with this boy. Some weird kinship wrought from longing and the purest essence of freedom. Although I didn’t really understand what this strange kid was up to, I felt instinctively somehow that it went beyond an inclination for perversion, that this rebellious act was actually a grasping for some deeper truth or meaning in life. A one person riot in the face of conformity, he was expressing not only his desire for freedom, but freedom as he felt it to be.

But then again, maybe he was just some whack job exposing himself. Who knows.


beagley.jpg It’s the last day of NaBlo and the last day of NaNo….and I am relieved it’s over.

Yes, another successful year as far as NaBlo goes, and though my blogging this month has been kinda up and down, much like my life the last 30 days, at least I can say I was able to post every day.

My freshman efforts with NaNo were not good. I certainly failed to meet the 50,000 words in 30 days deadline, but I did get started on my novel & I have plans to continue working on it until it’s completed. In that way, I feel as though I got what I needed out of it.

In other news, I went & saw “Enchanted” tonight with a dear friend of mine. Verrrrry Cute!! I’ll post a review hopefully this weekend, if I can manage it. I’m still typing one handed. *grimace*


I Hate oOh Noes!

attack.png I am really upset. Very angry. And typing this one handed to boot. My left wrist and forearm is completely swollen. And painful. Very Painful. My right elbow is also completely fucked up.

This is the worse flare I’ve ever had, and it just keeps moving around from one set of joints to the next.

I’m so sick of being sick. I hate it.

We watched a Smurfs episode last night that featured Grumpy Smurf. He walks around the Smurf village exclaiming everything he hates, and when the Smurfs were in trouble, and someone shouted out “oOh Noes!”….Grumpy replied that he “hates ‘oOh Noes!” Cute, huh?

I can identify with Grumpy Smurf right now. I know exactly how he feels. Poor little bitter Smurfling.

Now somewhere there’s a pretty pink darvocet with my name on it.

Smoochies nonetheless,


just-go.png I have absolutely nothing to blog about tonight, so I’ll leave you with my favorite web comic from xkcd. Sweet genius.



Joyeux Noel

labyrinth.gif This afternoon, a search query on “what do the french leave for santa” led some poor clueless wanderer to Terminally Cute. Because I do my best to answer the hard hitting questions *snicker*, I did a little research on “Pere Noel.” (read: I needed something to fill space for tonight’s post. TGI-almost the end of NaBloPoMo! *g*)

The French call Santa, “Pere Noel,” which in their language means “Father Christmas.” French children leave carrots and hay in their shoes for Pere Noel’s reindeer, and toys & gifts are left in return. Pere Noel makes two visits to children who have been especially good, showing first on December 6th, St. Nicholas Eve, and then again on December 24th, Christmas Eve. Adults usually exchange gifts on New Years Day. He travels with Pre Fouettard, a stern disciplinarian who keeps track of which children have been naughty and which have been nice.

Hmm. I think the next search query I’ll tackle is “what it’s like to be a sociopath.”