<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>ShaunaGlenn.com &#187; sometimes drugs ARE the answer</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.shaunaglenn.com/category/sometimes-drugs-are-the-answer/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.shaunaglenn.com</link>
	<description>No vagina was harmed in the making of this website.</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Thu, 09 Feb 2012 15:21:06 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1</generator>
		<item>
		<title>How well do you *really* know someone?</title>
		<link>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2009/11/how-well-do-you-really-know-someone/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=how-well-do-you-really-know-someone</link>
		<comments>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2009/11/how-well-do-you-really-know-someone/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 19 Nov 2009 12:35:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Shauna</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[don't judge me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[it's all about me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[loser]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[please don't throw baby alligators at me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sometimes drugs ARE the answer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[there's clearly something wrong with me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[why some people shouldn't be given access to sharp objects]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.shaunaglenn.com/?p=1206</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Here are some things about me you probably don&#8217;t know. *My middle name is Rae. I&#8217;m named after my Uncle Ray, who when I was a child, convinced me he had a bear living in a tree in his front yard. I have been afraid of bears&#8230;and trees&#8230;and men named Ray ever since. *I slept [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p>Here are some things about me you probably don&#8217;t know. </p>
<p>*My middle name is Rae. I&#8217;m named after my Uncle Ray, who when I was a child, convinced me he had a bear living in a tree in his front yard. I have been afraid of bears&#8230;and trees&#8230;and men named Ray ever since.</p>
<p>*I slept in the same bed with my two younger brothers until I was 14 years old. OK, 15. Because I was afraid to sleep by myself. And I only stopped then because my parents made me.</p>
<p>*In middle school, if the teachers gave no homework I would make up work to do because I loved doing homework. I would show my teachers the next day all the extra work I did. They thought it was odd. My mom swears to this day that I was never dropped on my head as a baby. I was just a school nerd.</p>
<p>*If I didn&#8217;t bleach or color my hair I&#8217;d be almost completely gray headed. It&#8217;s been this way since I was 28.</p>
<p>*One time when I went scuba diving I was nearly eaten by a grouper the size of a two bedroom apartment. I&#8217;ve never been able to look at a fish in the face again. Not even our pet Beta, Douglas. His beady little eyes scream &#8220;I will devour you!&#8221;</p>
<p>*When I was 15 I faked a stomach ache to get out of going to church camp and ended up having my appendix removed. DO NOT TELL MY MOTHER.</p>
<p>*My grandparents named my butt cheeks, Precious and Adorable. And they would fight over which cheek was cuter. I think this might explain a lot of what&#8217;s wrong with me.</p>
<p>*When I was in elementary school I used to cry because I wanted to be a boy. Not because I wished I had a penis, but because my mom wouldn&#8217;t let me play football in the front yard without my shirt on.</p>
<p>*I like going to the movies by myself so I can sit in the dark and eat a hot dog AND nachos AND popcorn without feeling like people are judging me.</p>
<p>*I&#8217;ve never won anything in my life&#8211;except a Cabbage Patch doll&#8211;when I was 12. And then <a href="http://www.avitable.com/">Avitable</a> ate it. Cuz he eats the fuck out of those. </p>
<p>*I&#8217;m terrified of going to the dentist. They have to practically drive to my house and pick me up for my appointment. And there are usually promises of candy if I behave for the doctor. I don&#8217;t normally make it through without crying&#8230;or behaving.</p>
<p>I think this pretty much sums it up. It all makes perfect sense now doesn&#8217;t it. </p>
<p>Weirdos need love too.</p>
<p>***Please keep Anissa in your thoughts. For updates on her condition, you can <a href="http://aiminglow.com/">go here</a>.</p>
<div id="fb-root"></div>
   <script>
   window.fbAsyncInit = function() {
   FB.init({appId: "182465651785731", status: true, cookie: true,
		 xfbml: true});
	};
 (function() {
  var e = document.createElement("script"); e.async = true;
 e.src = document.location.protocol +
   "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js";
 document.getElementById("fb-root").appendChild(e);
}());
</script><span class = ""  style = "  "><fb:like href="http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2009/11/how-well-do-you-really-know-someone/" send = "false" layout="standard" show_faces="true" width="" action="like" colorscheme="light" font="" /></span>]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2009/11/how-well-do-you-really-know-someone/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>38</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>wounded butterfly</title>
		<link>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2008/09/wounded-butterfly/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=wounded-butterfly</link>
		<comments>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2008/09/wounded-butterfly/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Sep 2008 12:14:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Shauna</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[drunk in the a.m.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mothers against select soccer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sometimes drugs ARE the answer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[why i don't have a gun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[why some people shouldn't be given access to sharp objects]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.shaunaglenn.com/?p=614</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[if ever i was going to become a serious alcoholic/drug addict, this week would have been the time i started my new career. early in the week i had this to clean up. ethan, aka the golden boy, found an ink pad and decided it was a good idea to rub it all over himself. [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p>if ever i was going to become a serious alcoholic/drug addict, this week would have been the time i started my new career.</p>
<p>early in the week i had this to clean up.  ethan, aka the golden boy, found an ink pad and decided it was a good idea to rub it all over himself.  he was left unattended for about 4 minutes and came into the kitchen saying, &#8220;i sorry mama.&#8221;  i looked at him and screamed.  he was covered, head to toe (including his TONGUE AND TEETH) in gold ink.  i screamed again and he continued, &#8220;i sorry mama.  i no do it again.&#8221;</p>
<p>you bet your ASS you won&#8217;t do it again.  then i heard a scream in the other room.  riley yelled, &#8220;mom, do NOT come in the front room.  i&#8217;ll take care of it.  just promise you won&#8217;t come in here.&#8221;  holy shit, what was happening?</p>
<p>turns out the golden boy left his ink covered hand prints all over the leather chair in the tv room.  riley happened upon it and, because she&#8217;s smart, decided she better clean it before i see it.<br />in the meantime i picked up gb by his feet (only body part NOT covered in ink) and carried him upside down to the bathroom where i attempted to scrub him clean.  luckily for him, the ink washed off his body <em>and</em> the leather chair.</p>
<p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXFe5eXI/AAAAAAAAArQ/4WmdMZKjp2g/s1600-h/golden+boy+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243255789635336562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXFe5eXI/AAAAAAAAArQ/4WmdMZKjp2g/s400/golden+boy+001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXQ9j_3I/AAAAAAAAArY/Pej-DzAI1OI/s1600-h/golden+boy+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243255792716742514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXQ9j_3I/AAAAAAAAArY/Pej-DzAI1OI/s400/golden+boy+003.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>
<p>on thursday, not only did we have two soccer games in dallas (i didn&#8217;t get home until 11pm!) but we also adopted a new family member.  meet cooper.  i&#8217;m not sure how old or what kind of dog he is (he appears to be shy and hasn&#8217;t talked much yet.  hopefully soon he&#8217;ll feel comfortable enough to share his life story) but he&#8217;s so freakin cute.  i especially love his little under bite.  so now we have <a href="http://shaunaglenn.blogspot.com/2008/02/hi-my-name-is-buddy-and-i-am-chicken.html">buddy the storm trooper</a>, <a href="http://shaunaglenn.blogspot.com/2008/08/collie-or-chupacabra.html">leona the chupacabra</a>, and cooper. </p>
<p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXuJjy0I/AAAAAAAAArg/f4vTuFQgx8I/s1600-h/cooper+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243255800551689026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MtAPODVfAYw/SMPJXuJjy0I/AAAAAAAAArg/f4vTuFQgx8I/s400/cooper+004.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>
<p>thursday night, i couldn&#8217;t sleep.  every time i would move or turn my head, i felt a sharp pain that would radiate throughout my entire body.  i got up around 4:30 because i couldn&#8217;t take the pain any longer.  my neck and left shoulder hurt so badly that i considered self amputation but then realized if i cut off the left side of my body my clothes would fit weird, so i decided against it.  as the morning progressed, so did the pain.  i went to the doctor where she prescribed a muscle relaxer and pain medicine.  then i went to see my massage therapist who worked on the area for an hour.  by the time he was finished the medicine had kicked in and thinking back now, it probably wasn&#8217;t a good idea that i drove home.  i was high as a kite and i had no movement in my neck which made changing lanes a challenge.  so basically i was comparable to one of the really old ladies who still has her driver&#8217;s license but shouldn&#8217;t.  i made it home, laid down on the bed and passed out.  </p>
<p>three hours later i woke up in pain again.  couldn&#8217;t take medicine this time though&#8211;had to go to dinner with a friend of tommy&#8217;s and his wife.  i was so groggy and had that medicine head thing going on.  i didn&#8217;t want to ask tommy to reschedule because i already had once.  i would just have to power through.  we got to the restaurant 30 minutes early and tommy (not fully knowing how still totally fucked up i was from the controlled substances i took earlier) ordered me a glass of wine.  i drank it and within a few minutes was nodding off&#8211;at the restaurant bar.  he noticed i was asleep sitting up and he nudged me.  &#8220;hey, are you all right?&#8221;  i tried to open my eyes but it was rather difficult.  it was as if someone had glued them shut!  i mumbled something not of my native tongue and then realized my actual tongue felt really weird in my mouth.  like it was swollen&#8211;or had doubled in size.  for a minute i thought, <em>i have someone else&#8217;s tongue in my mouth</em>.  i panicked.  i wanted to scream, &#8220;help tommy, someone took my tongue and replaced it with a gigantic one.  call the police!&#8221;  but i couldn&#8217;t get those words to come out of my mouth.  all i could muster was, &#8220;water please.&#8221;  tommy waved down the bartender and then turned to me and said, &#8220;i think we should go home.  i&#8217;ll call (insert any name here) and tell him you&#8217;re not feeling well.&#8221;  hallelujah!  yes, that&#8217;s a very good idea.  just as he was getting out his phone to call his friend, he and his wife walked through the door.  well, he would just have to tell him in person.  i knew i should get up and introduce myself, but i couldn&#8217;t figure out exactly how to do that.  i motioned for tommy to help me off the barstool.  he did and we stood there making small talk&#8211;well, they were talking&#8211;i was fascinated by a fly that kept buzzing around me&#8211;it seemed to be taunting me&#8211;i can&#8217;t be sure, but i think it even told me i sucked.  </p>
<p>anyway, i kept waiting for tommy to say something about how i was not feeling well and that we were sorry but would have to do this another night&#8230;but he never did!  in fact, just the opposite happened.  he said, &#8220;well, are we ready for our table?&#8221; or something like that.  i wanted to curl up in the corner in the fetal position.  i gave him a look and he shrugged his shoulders and i was like, &#8220;yeah, fuck you too.&#8221;</p>
<p>i staggered to the table and sat down.  while the others ordered wine i ordered coffee.  if i was going to do this, i needed to be sober.  my neck was killing me, i was completely out of it, and dinner lingered on until 10 o&#8217;clock.  normally this would be fine, but the whole time i sat there i kept thinking i was not in my body, but hovering above, looking down at myself.  one thought came to mind while i was floating above my head&#8211;i <em>really</em> need to get my roots dyed.</p>
<p>i survived dinner but there&#8217;s no telling what those people think of me.  i&#8217;m sure i made the worst impression possible.  they probably feel sorry for tommy.  whatever.  i made it through without passing out in my salad&#8211;so the night was a huge success. </p>
<p>saturday&#8230;soccer gamessss.  3 of them in fact.  i&#8217;m afraid harley has gone to the dark side.  she did score her very first goal and was super excited.  so it looks like she&#8217;s drinking the cool aid and is going to be playing for awhile.  the taste of victory was too much for her and she wants more.  traitor!</p>
<p>so, how was YOUR week?</p>
<div id="fb-root"></div>
   <script>
   window.fbAsyncInit = function() {
   FB.init({appId: "182465651785731", status: true, cookie: true,
		 xfbml: true});
	};
 (function() {
  var e = document.createElement("script"); e.async = true;
 e.src = document.location.protocol +
   "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js";
 document.getElementById("fb-root").appendChild(e);
}());
</script><span class = ""  style = "  "><fb:like href="http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2008/09/wounded-butterfly/" send = "false" layout="standard" show_faces="true" width="" action="like" colorscheme="light" font="" /></span>]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://www.shaunaglenn.com/2008/09/wounded-butterfly/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>

