Hold Please
Wednesday Advice Smackdown

Off The Rails

No advice column today. I may postpone it until tomorrow, or it might take a little hiatus and run away with the 'ku.

I've made some light-hearted references to The Crazy and the Brain Doctor and la la la, Amalah's feeling a little blue and stressed.  Prozac is the new Flintstones Vitamin, no big deal, she's FINE. FINE FINE FINE.

Am not fine. Am dirty liar.

I'm not going into details. < insert standard "people in real life read this" boilerplate here > I'm not going to spend a lot of time writing about it. In fact, I'll probably just refer to the whole situation as "It" a lot and gloss over It entirely for weeks at a time. La la la.

But I thought you should know a few things.

1) No advice column today. Check.

2) I am still hilarious when I'm depressed. Sometimes even more so. Please don't leave me. Please don't find someone new. Especially someone younger and prettier. I would cry. Don't walk out that door! I am still talking to you! Baby, don't goooo!

3) I'm more than just depressed. Everybody's depressed. I need to be special...to stand out in the crowd. Am star!  Thus, I have Other Problems besides/in addition to/on top of It. I probably won't talk about Them either.

4) But these Other Problems require some serious mood stabilizers. Which make me feel like shit. Stable shit, but still. Shit.

5) I cannot, under any circumstances, get pregnant while on these drugs. My doctor literally held the prescription over her head and wouldn't hand it to me until I promised promised promised to go back on birth control, cross my heart and hope to not die in a depressed and moody puddle.

6) I will be on these drugs for a minimum of nine months. Nine. Months. Minimum. Ouch. Just...ouch. Right in the heart. The length of a pregnancy. At least. At this rate, my next-door neighbors will have a goddamn softball team by the time I have one. (And yes, it's totally a competition. I have to beat the spread in Vegas. Shut up.)

So. This is where I'm at. Fucked-up ovaries, fucked-up brain, fucked-up plans and now a seriously fucked-up entry that I'll probably regret posting instantly. Luckily I changed the title from the original, which was "Off the Baby Train, On the Crazy Train." I am happy about this, because that? Was awful.

(SIDE NOTE TO ALL REAL-LIFE PEOPLE: You never read this. I don't care if you read this, I'm telling you now, YOU NEVER READ THIS. The first person to walk into my office or whatever who makes a concerned frowny face and asks if I'm okay? Dies. As will anyone else. I do NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH YOU. Yes, you. Capiche?)

Ain't I a peach? Don't you want to take me shopping and give me big hugs?



Yes, yes I do want to go shopping with you and give you a hug. Or maybe just go find a dollar cinema playing "Van Helsing" so we can have a good laugh at a bad movie and watch how pretty Hugh Jackman is. Sound good?

We do love you.


Definitely want to take you shopping because as far as I can tell, you have a better fashion sense than me and can help me find cuter clothes than the oversized left-overs I currently have from my fat Vegas days. And we can go make fun of the Hot Dog on a Stick girls. Because the bitchy one in the middle? The vertical stripes totally aren't helping her...

bond girl

Shopping is the best way to feel better about yourself, and by yourself, I mean your shoe wardrobe. So yes, I'd love to go shopping with you. I'd even buy.


I will send Jason Bateman over to hug you (but you better stop there, kid) and to take you shopping immediately. Now that's loave, and its all for you, for you are a STAR!!


I'd like to take you shopping and buy you BURRITOS and COLAS and all sorts of shiny jewelry and coach accessories. (did I say that right? Should Coach be capitalized?)

Oh...and you can have Jason Bateman. It's the least I can do.

Luv ya. Fo' rizzle.


I think you are fabulous, depressed or not. Come to Santa Barbara and I'll buy you pretty things and get ya drunk on the finest Cali hooch.


I totally want to hug you and squeeze you and call you Squishy and make you mine. And also take you shopping. At Target. And maybe some other places. When can you be here?

And I am so sorry that everything is so sucky right now. Sorry in a genuine non-stalker-ish kind of way.


I hope the flowers are helping you feel a bit better today. :) I know yesterday you got hit with a lot of stuff. Oh, and you know I'm totally open to taking you shopping and buying you lots of nice things.


My God. Clone Jason, please, so I can marry him.


I'd give you supportive hugs and all but I never read this blog entry per your instruction. I agree with the other posters who are recommending the shoes and I'd like to add the pretty pretty baubles.


Really? There's someone younger AND prettier than my beloved Morty? I don't believe it. Show me.


I would totally go shopping with you and we could get lots of really great lip glosses that make our lips shiny and purty.


Feel better soon Amy! And shopping-as-therapy is the best! (and why do I suddenly have the Flintstones theme in my head?)


Sorry you're down in the dumps. I wish real people didn't read you so you could vent. Eff-off real people! leave the blogging to us! Bloggers against real people unite! I don't like to shop, but we could go to the movies. I'm all for smothering real feelings in media and consumerism. Eff-off real feelings!


I say you should compete with your neighbor about other things. Like who is the prettiest, who has the nicest couch, and who has the best shoes. Because you will already win all of those competitions, I'm sure.

Don't worry, no matter how you're feeling, we aren't going anywhere. And blogs? The best kind of free therapy around really.


I will give you hugs, and smoking babies. It is what I can do. As for hilarity in the sucky times? I understand. And? I think you will be equally funny, if not more so. We're here to stay, pretty lady!


No matter how shitty they make you feel now, especially in light of the whole nine-month hiatus from "trying", those mood-stabilizing drugs are so worth it in the long run.

Been there, done that, posted that same post. Good luck, girl -- I feel you, more than I wish I did. (For both of our sakes.)


i've got some shiny lip gloss with your name written all over it, 'for the queen of everything'. Of course we, your loyal servants/readers, would never leave nor forsake you. We would travel across snowy mountains passes or brave inner city streets to bring you Cokes and burritos and pictures of Judith Light.


Darlin, forget shopping -- this situation calls for CHAMPAGNE. Believe me, I know.


Perhaps this will help?



I was going to say something like "Mmmmmmm ... crazy pills ... (drools)," because I love me the crazy pills, but that was before I realized things were a little more serious. But serious times call for serious measures, so I see your shopping and raise you SHOE shopping, Veuve Cliquot and all the cheesecake you can handle.

You'll be all right. And I'm not going anywhere, either.

type a

i hate it when i can't use my blog to rant about the assholes in my real life. or just my real life in general. but, so you know, we are not leaving you. because there is no one younger or prettier, just ask jason bateman.

also, look at today's cat calendar kitty. fuck everything - give me a hammock.


My GOD. Lauren wrote you a B&B episode with your Celebrity Boyfriend in it. That is true Loave, right there.


Hope you feel better, cutie. Better living through chemistry is eventually better living. Make sure you wear all kinds of really cute clothes around the apartment mommy and remember she is dragging her size 10+ whoo-ha around inside the granny panties, unless she had a C section, in which case she gets to look at a big smiley face every day.

PS - I know it sounds totally crazy, but take this time to document your cute little 122# bod before kids hit - yesterday I rolled over in my sleep and pinched my own nipple between my BACK and the bed. Wish I had documented cute, perky boobs, but I thought it would be shallow. Now, it is too late. Hmmm. Now I'm depresseed.

Suzanna Danna

Take the J Man up on his offer. He's a sweetie, let (Let?... yes, dammit LET) him buy you the nice shoes and shiny things. Shopping therapy is the new black.

I'm here. No pressure.


You have been my therapy today. I found out a week ago tomorrow that I also have to "get off the baby train and get on the crazy train". Maybe we can hook up in the dining car and have lots of drinks and smoke lots of clove cigarettes together. And, I hear on the crazy train they don't have bowls of mixed nuts on the bar, they have bowls of "vitimins".

drinks and smokes and hugs from Nashville.

feisty girl

Um, you need some form of chocolate-peanut-butter product immediately. Never fails.


On behalf of the Not-Real-Life People who get huge bonus laughs from you on a daily basis, I offer the mightiest of wishes for you to find all the happiness that a superstar goddess babe like you deserves. With Real Love from the Not-Real People!!!


Here is one more Devoted, Not Real Life Person/Trained Seal who loaves you from afar. Life can really suck sometimes, but not all the time. I've been taking "happy pills" for about a year now and can say it's turned things around for me. Then you came along, and life was even better! No way am I going to step out on you, baby. When work gets all shitty (or not), I go to the computer and find you there! All better now! Thank You!!
I hope that you'll be feeling better soon. Buying shoes always helps. Buy lots and lots of them. Think of crazy occasions that you need the right shoe for. How about Monkey Ninja Sandals, Haiku Dress Slides, Rah-Rah-Work Lovefest Dress Shoes, Judith Light Pumps, I'm So Pretty Look At My Dainty Feet Shoes, and Get Outta My Way 'Cuz I'm Gonna Kick Yo' Ass Shoes to get you started?


Yes, I will take you shopping and give you hugs and buy you lots and lots of pretty pretty things.

Because that? Sucks. Like, yay for the Crazy Pills that make you stable. But Big Fat Boooo to the No Babies thing. Gah. That? Is something I will talk to Them about. Because that is fucking ridiculous.

P.S. You can still borrow my ovaries. It's not like I'm using them for anything.


I know there's been a goodly amount of crappage in the last couple of days and you, my friend, are one of my true heroes for dealing with it as you have. You deserve shopping, burritos, flowers, Coach and more! Open wide the shopping floodgates and let slip the magnetic strips of credit cards!


So sorry. Am fellow crazy-pill taker, though too young for attempts on baby-train. I will not offer platitudes, cuz they suck. Go shopping, eat chocolate, and cry if you want to. Also? You have a very sweet husband. That's a good thing. I will send happy thoughts of lip gloss, diet coke and shoes in your direction.


Godiva chocolate+wine= a better mood. visit my site- look at bunny photos. They don't wear fanny-packs.

your adoring handmaiden forever and ever

My darling Queen, your coach (actually it is a town car) will be picking you up promptly at 12. A massage therapist will be in the car waiting for you to provide a soothing foot rub while we drive to the airport. Judith Light has kindly lent you her private jet and we will be heading straight to NYC. Wolfgang Puck will be on the plane to provide you with perfect nibbles and Judith said, and I quote, to "have at" the bar and wine cellar. I called Larry Gross and explained your situation and he's letting us have a copy of "We Don't Live Here Anymore"-- so you can watch it on the flight. Word is the amazing Mark Ruffalo is more amazing than ever and the film is good and sad so you can cry with abandon (a good cry can really help sometimes, don't you think?) When we arrive in Gotham, you will be whisked to the Ritz where a suite is waiting. Once you've revived from the flight, we'll head straight to Barney's to do some damage and then stroll Madison, cross through the park (you do need some fresh air my dear, and watching New York crazies always helps to put our own troubles in persepctive) to Columbus where will hit the boutiques you love. This is just the beginning of your shopping extravaganza, of course. Grab your bag and be ready to go!


There seems to be a common "shopping" theme going on here. I advise not getting carried away, though. :)

I'm sorry to hear about "It." If I were to see you in person I would definitely not make a frowny-face. Those are the worst.

The comments to this entry are closed.