Today we went to Universal Studios proper.
I didn’t write anything yesterday, because:
- It was a “lay by the pool” day for me to try and get rid of my vampirishly white legs, so how boring is that? And:
- I was just too damned tired after two full nights spent obsessively writing in this blog instead of doing what a sensible (sane) person would do and going to sleep at a reasonable hour. Then:
- Getting three hours of sleep, and then dutifully getting my body out of bed in the morning to go do stuff with John so he wouldn’t be bored.
He was bored yesterday anyway. He’s not a lay by the pool kinda guy.
We did go to City Walk for dinner at Emeril’s, and that was nice.
This was after John had had enough and woke me from my poolside slumber, after which I managed to shower and change. Painfully.
Walking, though, was challenging.
I had plenty of time to regret not sleeping on the way to the restaurant.
My OCD takes over when I blog, though, so I gotta finish the post or it will bug the shit out of me and I won’t be able to sleep anyway.
Oh, by the way, after reading my posts, John says I am no longer allowed to use any part of his life in them without a court order.
He says this will all come out in “the evaluation” which supposedly comes out after our 27th anniversary on July 27th.
Other habits I have, also going on the evaluation, are starting to pile up.
You can’t change my kind of crazy with the threat of a negative evaluation.
I love him for trying, though. It’s cute.
Anyway, Universal Studios has changed quite a bit since we last came here with the kids 15 years ago.
It’s more fun.
There’s even a rollercoaster.
We walked the whole park, and rode every ride, and I just gotta say, that Express Pass was once again worth its weight in gold.
I only lost John once. It was in the Jimmy Fallon ride where one has to go through several rooms before going on the actual ride.
I personally found each room highly entertaining and had found good spots in the front by the stage in the first room, but England and Columbia had tied 1-1 in the World Cup by this point and were soon to go into penalty kicks, so John was leaning against the back wall trying to find out more about the game on his phone.
As the crowd surged to the second room, he disappeared.
I, of course, immediately panicked.
He, meanwhile, was calmly sitting on a bench in said room, and called me over as I came out, my eyes rolling like a runaway horse on speed.
I hung on to his shirt after that as we moved from room to room.
Call me a baby if you like, but I have the sense of direction of a ball of lint. John guides me. I swear he carries Magnetic North in his basel ganglia, if that’s even a thing.
Plus, he’s calm by nature, knows I’m not, and always knows where I am even if I’ve been distracted by a barbershop quartet or the fact that I never knew Jimmy Fallon was now the host of The Tonight Show.
Last I knew, it was Jay Leno. Conan O’Brian never even registered.
My excuse is that I never watch The Tonight Show, but I’ll bet there are people who live in caves (with satellite dishes and TV sets of course), that know Jimmy Fallon is the host of that show.
The real problem is that I’m so busy with my various mental illnesses, I don’t have time for anything outside the world I’ve created inside myself.
But, John knows this, so he keeps me up on current events. Usually.
I’ve mentioned John several times already in this post. I’m sure that’s going on the evaluation.
I don’t think I’ll get sued, though, because the court order isn’t a real thing. Yet.
Look how happy he looks. He does love his futbol, and the FIFA World Cup only comes once every four years. How can I deny him this pleasure when he does so much for me?
He loves all sports, actually, but this is special.
- rode a few more rides,
- got me some $14 (!) chocolate from The Chocolate Emporium,
- ate dinner at NBC Brew (or some name like that),
- and took the water taxi back to the hotel.
Honestly, if I’da known how much that chocolate was gonna cost, I wouldn’t have it now. Of course, we paid $8 for two bottles of water when we got back.
But we’re splurging and spoiling ourselves for the next two weeks, what with the mountain trip and all, so I refuse to feel guilty about this.
After all, after this it’s back to 80 hour workweeks for John, and hiding in my house with Tsuki for me when we get home.
Ironically, one of our biggest expenses is paying the dog sitter to watch Tsuki.
But, I won’t put her in a kennel with those itty bitty cages, especially now that Blizzard has passed on. She’s a little lost without him.
- Plus, Tsuki knows the sitters,
- gets walked daily,
- has plenty of other dogs to play with,
- gets plenty of attention,
- and has a yard and a house to wander around in.
My sitter is called My Other Mommy, btw. You can Google them if the link’s not right.
They send me texts and pictures on how she’s doing (she dug a big hole in their backyard the other day, lol), and they walk her daily and pay attention to her as well as making sure she eats right, among other things.
Tsuki is my emotional service animal, so I can take her with me wherever I go.
All you need is a certified letter from your Psychiatrist stating that your pet needs to be with you for your mental health and then he/she can go with you almost anywhere.
At 105 pounds, we used to have trouble renting with Tsuki. Now, by law, a property management company can’t refuse to rent to us because of her size.
Until next time, stay strong and believe that you deserve good things. I do.
Stay on your meds, and take time out for yourself. The cruise and these latest vacations have done wonders for my own mental health.
Remember, depression lies, anxiety will pass, and mental health needs to be nurtured.
Most importantly, remember that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of.
It strikes without regard to race, creed, color, sexual preference, social standing, wealth or what color socks you wear.
Chemical imbalance? Crossed wiring among your synapses? Neural pathways that are just plain screwy?
All of the above and more?
Who knows? You just keep doing you to the best of your ability and accept help when you need it.
It’s not your fault.
I believe in you.