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There once was a very sad post here about money and not having enough, and definitely not enough for my upcoming life adventure.

Instead of going postal in public, I’m going to just go pray on it or something. Or else I’m entirely too capable of making some very rash decisions and fucking up the whole works.

So, I am going to use this moment for good, even if it kills me. Since I’m congested and can’t just go blow off my aggression with a cigarette. 🙂

Anyway. …

May this be the last time in my life where I feel like absolute crap over something so freaking PETTY AND STUPID as money. Or the lack thereof. And all the panic attacks that ensue. Don’t forget the insomnia!

I was in a restaurant this weekend, absolutely having dry heaves over something on the menu. I don’t even remember what it was. It was “poor-people food.” You know what I mean — the crap our families fed us to keep us alive. The meals you had two or three times a week because the ingredients were cheap and plentiful. The shit you’d just DIE if your family served if you had a friend over for dinner.

For us, it was “shit on the shingles.” Ground meat in gravy over elbow macaroni. *shudder* For variation, throw in some stewed tomatoes and, voila — beefaroni. *barfaroni*

Ooh, and “city chicken.” *omg, no. just, no* It smelled vile. Was it pork? I dunno, it was just fake chicken fried up in a pan. “Shitty chicken,” I learned to call it.

I can’t eat any of that crap today. Of course, I have all but stopped eating meat, save for special occasions, of which there is an alarming lack.

For one of my friends, her “poor-people food” was chicken and rice. To this day, you cannot present her with the combination — no matter how artfully or expensively prepared — without her going into the wayback machine.

For others, it’s spaghetti. (I came from an Italian grandmother — I didn’t exactly have a problem with the spaghetti because the homemade sauce rocked.)

What was your poor-people food? Or what other triggers do you have of a long-ago (or recent) past that throw you into a tailspin?

I was out recently and smelled someone wearing Bijou perfume. Someone gave it to me as a gift when I began my five-month non-employment journey. I cannot STAND the smell of it to this day. Reminds me of applying for thousands of jobs for which I never got a call. Reminds me of being hungry and having NOTHING to eat. Reminds me of being lonely and trapped in the house and not having a hope in the world.

All right, see, this isn’t going in the right direction. Sure, I want to hear about what your “yuck” triggers are. But tell me about your good ones too. Like when you find yourself in a viciously bad mood like the one I’m in and what you use for a pick-me-up. (O HAI obvious hint!) 🙂

4 Responses to < deleted >

  1. Lachlan :

    Chunky soup and rice as a kid. And grilled cheese.

  2. Angie :

    So sweet of you to remember my distaste for the gastronomical abomination that is chicken and rice. Give me SOS any day!
    Yuck triggers: Cheap cheese, Poison perfume, vodka in plastic gallon bottles (aka Military Special) and cars with no AC
    I think this life “funk” is going around. It’s contagious and spreading exponentially. Unfortunately there is no vaccine or cure—like the common cold, we just have to ride it out. (FYI: I have found that splurging on the occasional top-shelf dirty martini helps me cope.)
    I’m going on 5 months now with no job. However, I’ve recently been offered a position but it’s contingent on a background check and drug test. Currently I’m drowning in credit card debt and I live with a gawd damn stoner…kinda hard to ‘just say no’ when peeps are hot boxin’ your basement. Wish me luck, I’m going to need it.

  3. ExtraordinaryGirl :

    Hmm, I don’t really have any deep seated “yuck triggers”, at least not when it comes to my family. I’m lucky we’ve always been close, and aside from one or two friend exceptions, my brothers and I were always perfectly happy from early on, growing up with each other as company. Because of that, I was never really embarrassed by things any of us did, since no one besides family was ever there. 😉 At least not when we were really young, anyway.

    My biggest “OMG, NO!” thing, though, is definitely a Jager Bomb. UGH… The mere THOUGHT of these things gives me a shudder I used to only get with ACTUAL tequila shot consumption. DAY-UHMM!!

    My positivity trigger, though, is the smell of Fragrant Tea Olive. I’ve always loved the smell, having grown up with these in my parent’s front yard. When I first moved to England, I found myself in the depths of missing my US home and family more than I had ever imagined possible. One night, walking down an English “pavement”, I happened to smell the unmistakable scent of Tea Olive. I must have stood there with my head shoved into one of those shrubs for about 15 minutes, just breathingly deeply and crying happy tears of fun memories and good things from the US. The mere thought of Tea Olive now makes me smile, and when I do smell it, I’m elated.

    I LOVE that.

    Hugs and strength, Girlie.. 🙂

  4. Sabre :

    Oy, chiming in late. Your rss feed is wonked in my Sage reader. *cry*

    I cannot, will not, eat grape jelly. But the worst, absolute worst from childhood? Powdered milk.

    Deep seated “omfg i need to take a few days off now” trigger is when people who I’ve allowed in to my world and discussed my past with (in all its poverty stricken abusive glory) use it as a weapon against me in arguments. As in, “Why don’t you just go back to the trailer park you came from?” Or, “You know, if your mother didn’t love you, I’m not sure how you can expect anyone else to. She knew you the best.”

    *sigh* And I never lived in a trailer park actually. What with them being relatively upscale to the dump I did actually live in.

    Happy triggers… the smell of the beach. You know, when you can smell the salt water on the breeze, but you still can’t see the ocean? Always puts a smile on my face.