working on a Saturday

it is a rarity to work Saturdays but occasionally it does happen....special events only. The only good thing about working today was that it made up for the hours I missed when I was dealing with that first day of Mr.3 being gone.

We had a display table at a social studies teacher fair. It is a great time to make contacts and try to find out what we can do to incorporate the Middle East into the curriculum of what the state of Utah requires. I hate it when teachers say "I don't need anything about the Middle East, I teach elementary". The only thing officially in the curriculum of elementary schools is ancient Egypt in 6th grade....it is my goal to be able to come up with something that can be included in the elementary classroom.

I am really tired today...and it wasn't really work that did it, but lately I have been just super tired. I am trying to drink more water and less pop. In fact I went from having 2-3 sodas a day to 2-3 sodas a week. My muscles don't ache nearly as much. While I am tired, I sleep really well. So well that I don't need medication to get a good night's sleep. It is an odd win-win situation.

The high point of my day has been a text message from Jimmy when he discovered that I bought him some chips that he had been wanting. It said "I love you so much you don't even know" and it included a photo of the chips. I guess that I haven't been able to make myself feel happy for so long that if I can give someone else a bit of happiness it feels worthwhile.

Low point of my day....missing a phone call from Mr.3 because I was in the middle of a presentation. He didn't leave a message....probably thinking that I was mad at him for what happened yesterday...I wasn't. Not at all. I hope that he will be able to get another call out to me today. I miss talking to him soo much.

As of right now, I am spending my Saturday night on my lonesome. Yesterday I watched Sons of Provo....which was really funny---if you live in Salt Lake. I started reading a book about Somalia called "In the Company of Heroes", and I read it in until my eyes get tired...then clean or watch some tv, and then I go back to it. I know that I will never understand all that my husband has been through...but it doesn't mean that I can't try to learn about it.

So, that is my boring story for tonight, I wish that I had more to report. I hope that you are out doing something fantastically wild and fun in my stead.

and yes, I feel safe with him

I was hoping to hear from Mr.3 last night, but when it got to be about 10pm I had given up hope and just went to bed. He called at about 11pm-ish and talked for about 3 minutes, making the complete talking time with him yesterday just under 6 minutes. It was better when he was in jail.

He called to tell me a couple of things...one being that he missed me and wanted to come home. It was clear that he was on some sort of medication. Apparently the doctors let him on the internet for a couple of minutes yesterday in order for him to check my blog. I guess that he has told them about it. And according to Mr.3, it made them realize why I need to be brought into the process...that and the anger of not being able to see me created in him.

Mr.3 said that he did something bad yesterday and had to be sedated. I asked him to tell me what happened. Some grad student in the ward at lunch yesterday told Mr.3 that "he didn't really understand what it was like to be away from family." I don't know what this guy's aim was...maybe he was referring to his mission or something...but this is something that you DO NOT EVER say to someone who has been deployed for long periods of time, to someone who is clearly away from their family at the moment because of treatment, and this is something that you do not say to someone who has "anger issues" and has been denied the right to see his family. Bad things happen. Such as Mr.3 picking him up and slamming him against the wall. Mr.3 was sedated for this and he doesn't know how bad the kid was hurt....but he suspected that he broke a couple of his ribs.

I am not upset by this news. It clearly shows the grad student did something stupid in unnecessarily provoking a patient with anger issues. I don't know if it was something that just slipped out or if the kid was trying to make him feel guilty......clearly the application of guilt does not really work.

I was about to give Mr.3 my reaction to this--all I got out was "if they really think that I need to be involved in this process, they need to contact me...." and the phone hung up. Similar to last time. Mr.3 shows a tendency to call me when he is hopped up on sedation meds, confesses a bit, and then hangs up. I don't know if I should be grateful for these calls or not. Yes, he is confiding to me and showing me that he really does want and need me....but two, this is alot to lay on someone late at night in a conversation that doesn't seem to be had. I think that in the long run I should be happy that he called me. I am safe territory, a confessor who loves him unconditionally.

What seriously disturbs me is the fact that his medical staff has been reading my blog. It is not the act of reading my blog that disturbs me, but the fact that they are reading it.....reading my pain....and still not contacting me. Isn't this some violation of the Hippocratic oath? "Thou shalt do no harm?" Not being involved, not being allowed to see him, or even to verify that my husband is where he thinks that he is....isn't that causing both me and him harm? Are they viewing this as an opportunity to evaluate my mental stability? Because, trust me...my ups and downs...the panic attacks...the episodes of longing are not included here. I may mention little things that are clues, like the fact that I am now exclusively sleeping on Mr.3 side of the bed or about being frustrated about money....but none of it adequately conveys the depths in which this situation really has messed me up...my self esteem, my new developing phobia of being left or of being taken advantage of....or of how all the reading that I am doing right now in order to understand some of the experiences of what my husband has been through gives me the strange dreams and causes me to shake when I read.

If it is true that Mr.3's patient care team is monitoring this blog....they should be ashamed of themselves.

Sometimes mere observation can do so much more harm than good. Hopefully it is a lesson that that grad student learned yesterday.

the depression is bad today

so far I have done really really well with not being too depressed with this whole situation, but not today.

I got 2 new tires today. I figured that I won't be able to pay rent this month or next without some major help anyway...and keeping the car going is important for work. Driving with the new tires is a night and day difference. And my Dad would be proud, I made sure to get a tire gauge so that I can check the tire pressure.

Then I dropped off books and stuff due to the library. Unfortunately Mr.3 has some stuff that I can't re-new and I am now paying fines on that. I am not sure what I am going to do about it.

After that, I went to the grocery store and bought 30 dollars of crap justified only by the fact that I knew that my brother would benefit from it. I just want to spend and spend. When I am depressed I want to shop, and I get depressed because I have no money...It is a horrible cycle.

Talked to Mr.3 for a few minutes this morning. He said that he was going to get some answers today, but no news as of yet. I do like having a cell phone back, it is nice not having to wait by the phone constantly. Either way, the missing of him is really bad.... I applied for an extra education loan today to hopefully defer the costs of everything until this is all sorted out....but knowing the fact that my credit is ruined I will probably get turned down for it. After that I have one more place to go and then...well I have no idea after that.

Here's to the weekend everyone.

Hooray...Hooroo...

Mr.3 called me this morning to give me an 8-digit access code. Hooray!

Until I called the facility...who still don't have a record of him and they aren't sure who the 8 digit code belongs to, since their access codes are all 3.

Hooroo...

What a let down, right back to where I started.
I don't have the stamina for this......

A Week

It is hard to believe that it has only been a week since Mr.3 said that he needed help. It feels much longer than that...but that might be only because I am desperately waiting to get ahold of Mr.3 for his bonus check so that I can pay rent...which is late, and the price is steadily rising with each day. $910 so far, and me with absolutely no way in hell to pay for it.

Well to keep you updated in the most general of ways....I have been getting short calls from Mr.3 -at least once a day- but absolutely no information from him about how to visit him. In fact for the past two days his doctor was supposed to call me...and of course, no call. I've called the ward so much to leave messages that they all tell me "oh yeah, you..." Who knows what that means. In any case, I am sick of calling.

I am tired of having to be the one extending myself.

Yesterday, Mr.3 told me that his doctor was going to call...so stupid me, waited. No call, and I left a highly annoyed message on the cell phone. He called this morning at 6 am to tell me that he would have the doctor call me during their appointment that morning at 9 am. Mr.3 calls at 9:05 am, tells me that his doctor doesn't want to talk to me with him present and says that she assures him that she will call me after their session today about 10:30 am. No call.

Since then I have left several annoyed/furious messages.

I don't feel like I have been asking for the world. I just want to know where my husband is and to be given enough information to verify where he is and to discuss his treatment with his doctors. Hell, I should be entitled to this information if he is in fact admitted under my insurance. I am entitled to answers of how I am going to be expected to pay the rent when he has or has run off with the rent money.

I am angry and hurt. And tired of everyone under the sun asking questions. If I had answers it wouldn't be that bad, but I have none...nothing.

I miss him dearly. Mr.3 is not only my husband but my friend. I want to talk to him to bitch about the tires that I now have to re-fill with air every two days...that I worry about them exploding at any moment. I want to tell him about how my TESOL certificate came in the mail. I want to tell him about how I reordered his cell phone and that it will be delivered tomorrow---those of you who have Mr.3's cell number, you will be able to reach me there as of tomorrow evening. I want to have him help me and read through the cover letter and resume that I am working on for the Outreach position that is opening over at Global Voices.

At this rate he will be gone again for the same length of time that he was back.

I felt like I was just getting back onto my feet, and I took a chance, and now I am back to the hole that I was in again.

I just want resolution.

I want Mike.

21 Days

Heard back from Mr.3...he had good news and bad. Bad news, I won't get to see him today; good news he is being enrolled in a 21 day program. As the VA is so overburdened the U has developed a pilot program for those with PTSD and their spouses. The first week, both of us are in therapy--individually and together (this continues through the full 21 days), week two he will be allowed out of the hospital for a couple of hours a day, and then week 3 it is a further integration.

From day 1 (tomorrow) I will be getting help with him. And I will get to see him everyday.

Mr.3 was really positive about the care that he was getting...really positive. According to him this is better than anything that the VA has been able to give him. My having kick-ass insurance is helpful as well. He paid a $20 co-pay when he went in, and everything should be covered until he is officially discharged at the end of the 21 day period. Being an employee at the U also helps because of my benefits.

In week 2 or 3, they are probably going to bring Jimmy in on some of the sessions since he lives with us and the therapists are concerned with the role of the extended family.

I'm disappointed that I will not get to see him today....but at least it sounds like we are going to get the help that we all need. I should hear something tomorrow morning about when I need to go down for my first series of appointments.

good news sunday

can you take the updates lately....well can you?

at 8:30 this morning I got a call from a very normal and all together sounding husband. He is at the U hospital, and when he had called he had been given a double dose of turmazipan. Anyway the hospital normally does a 72 hour evaluation (I wonder if that has something to do with the missing persons stuff?) and he said that everything was going really really well and that either he could be released today or at the very least that I would be able to come and visit this afternoon.

This is such a relief.

And Mr.3 was really positive about the care he had been receiving there, something he NEVER was when he was at the VA. He is sure that we have now found someplace where WE can get the help that WE need. He sounds ready to come home. Thank god.

He apologized for the sleepless nights that I have had. I told him that I have been trying really hard to listen to my heart/gut. When he asked me what my gut had been saying, I told him that everything had said to me that he hadn't been lying and that he had done everything to keep my trust.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

And so did I.

Everything will be alright, it's a beautiful day.

And one more thing....

why does YouTube and MySpace hate me so?

YouTube seems to refuse to post videos for me...I suspect that it has something to do with the blogger upgrade. It is just soo frustrating....

And MySpace? I was trying to find more blogs to cover for Global Voices and I swear everyone writes on it...but doesn't say anything of use....and then it also freezes up my browser. Everyone under the sun has a MySpace...I do as well....I feel like I should use it more but it doesn't interest me that much. I think that it is because I find most of them too busy, blogs are much simpler in their design...easier to read and gather information from. I wonder if it makes me a blog elitist?

Anyway, it's late, I should go to bed. Jimmy is at a concert and will be home late tonight....hopefully there will be a phone call in the morning.

if you have seen my husband recently, can you let me know?

It has been one of those days where you kinda sit around trying to figure what exactly you want to type. Contrary to the last time Mr.3 and I had to go through the therapy thingy...I decided that I need to write about this. Writing becomes my therapy.

Well as to an update from yesterday... I heard from Mr.3 at about 10:30 last night. He had been given something to sedate him and he was kinda out of it, he was crying on the phone to me wanting to know why I hadn't come to see him...he had been waiting for me. Of course, I haven't heard anything from anyone. He said that he was at the University psych ward, but I am not really that sure he knew exactly where he was. I asked him to tell me where he was or if there was someone nearby who could give me more information about where he was and how to get to him...like a nurse. He told me that he saw someone at the end of the hallway...he went to go and talk to them and then the phone was hung up. I star69ed the phone and found out that he was calling from his cell phone.

Then it was a series of completely unproductive phone calls with the University Hospital trying to get any sort of information about anyone. Basically...they can't tell you yes or no, but they would be more than willing to pass on a message if that person is there. Damned frustrating.

This morning I embarked on a similar odyssey with the VA hospital. They are a bit more helpful with information, but only just. When I first called them, they sounded positive that he was at their facility. The later in the day that it became, I called back to talk to the patient advocate's office. What I learned was that he is NOT at the facility, but someone is who has a similar sounding name. A dead-end.

In any case, I am learning alot about how the mental health system works. Each time I call, I make sure to ask procedural questions. New rule between Mr.3 and I....he checking himself in is not allowed...because these programs will not contact family. From now on, everything will have to be done together because the consequences are too difficult to bear.

And to continue this onwards...I contacted the police. They can't do anything either, even after the 72 hour window passes to officially declare him as a missing person. 72 hours! Can you believe that!? In fact they recommended that I social engineer myself into the ward. I think that I can going to try that tomorrow. If I get the nerve.

Don't bother trying to get the phone company to help you track someone by cell phone. That only works if they call 911....damn that television for giving me ideas that won't work.

My gut feelings are still telling me to be calm, whatever that means. So I am being calm...sitting at home, endlessly waiting....waiting for any word about Mr.3. Maybe because my gut says that this is really a simple situation and that there is no dishonesty on Mr.3's part, that I feel like writing about this. I guess last time, the shame I felt because I thought that he was leaving me was too much for me to admit, even in this most intimate of spaces on my blog.

So the counter clock is ticking....25 hours with no word and counting.

I think that syntax is cursed

As Mr.3 was delayed for reporting to work in the SLC office because of the train problems, he was let go from his job. To say that this has hit him hard would be an understatement...he called me at 6 am in the morning yesterday to tell me that he wanted me to meet him at the VA, he said that he needed help.

I waited for him at the VA for almost 2 hours, and then went home because I was starting to freak out.

He called me a little later, said that he would take the bus home....2 hours later I finally get a hold of him again. He couldn't face me....not with the disappointment he was feeling. Promised he would come home. And he didn't.

Mr.3 calls this morning, again at 6 am. Tells me that he is going to check into the U mental health ward, promised that I would get a call from him or from a doctor telling me what was going on. No call yet, no information. And I am not sure how I feel. Gut reactions tell me to be calm...I know that I should listen to my gut reactions....but waiting is difficult, despite the calm I feel over the situation.

Mr.3 apparently stayed with friends last night...but he won't tell me who they were. It was someone who he felt comfortable in talking to, and he wouldn't tell me who because he thought that I would be mad at them. Needless to say I am curious. I wouldn't be upset at whoever sheltered him last night--envious of them, as he wanted to be with them and not me, and thankful to them...for being there for him when he wouldn't allow me to.

I guess the best way to describe how I feel about the whole situation can be capsulized in a except from a letter I wrote to him this afternoon:

I range from sad, understanding, enraged, and detached. You are not the only one hurt by all of this. Whatever this is at the moment. From my end, I see that you got some bad news---news that we (and I do mean "we") could have done something about yesterday---and that news completely shut you down. And shut me out. I thought that we doing better....I was happy that you wanted to go through therapy with me...that you wanted to fix this partnership. We can't fix anything, if it is you getting help....if it is you who call all the shots. It isn't fair. Why should I have to be the one who waits for you? Why should I have to be the one shut out, not given any information? Why should I have to be the one who has to hold everyone else up when all I want to do is crumble?

And yes, maybe I am trying to make you feel guilty....I am trying to make you feel something, anything, just to get you to interact with me. By letting you go to DC, I was showing you that I was willing to take a leap of faith and to trust you....you won't even do that for me...you won't even trust me to see you. Am I that dangerous or undeserving? Being married means that we take all that we have and share it with the other. It means that we see each other at our best and at our worst, that we take each other fully and completely for what the other is. We don't pass judgments, we just love. I don't want to see only "the best" side of you....I want to see the human side....the one with weaknesses...the one with love and compassion for me...I don't want to see the side of you that I am seeing now...the one who is so obsessed over what I may or may not be thinking that he is willing to push me away all together..because of pride. That is not who I married.

I just want to be a wife to my husband. I want to be there for you...I want to help you, to help me, to help us.

Neither of us can do this alone.

I guess this leaves me with further waiting. I hate waiting. I just want some news. I guess if that I don't hear from him I can report him as missing tomorrow.

The ache of missing him controls everything. I miss his body...the proximity of his body to mine...I miss seeing his freckles, the weight of his body and how it makes the mattress feel whole when we are lying together hovering in that state between sleep and awake. I just want him back home...or at least to tell me where he is, is he safe, getting help?

I am so cold. Probably due to lack of sleep and not eating properly. I can't tell if it is laziness, apathy, or just plain depression. Shaky and worried, that is all that I am.

The really odd thing is that in Syntax class we are covering the same exact chapter were we covering when everything fell apart last fall. So if I can blame this on anything, I think that the culprit is Syntax. I think that it is cursing my marriage. Damn Syntax.

A short note before class...

I am tired and cranky today....another night with little sleep, or at least decent sleep. I have been waiting for Mr.3 to come home and they always say that the train will be here in the middle of the night. So far it was delayed for over 24 hours, and then of course the one time that it was on time Mr.3 slept through his stop, which he is now trying to ride the train back from. He was supposed to be here at 3 am, but currently is stuck behind a HazMat train going super slow just outside of Wendover. We are hoping that he will be home about 7ish, but with Amtrak's record, I won't hold my breath.

Good news though...the fallout of BYU's behavior has finally landed from the horror that was this last weekend at the Regional Model Arab League. Apparently, BYU is being permanently uninvited from all Model Arab League events. Gone now are our mantras of "beat BYU", because they beat themselves.

Well at least the Mormons won't poison you...

We live across from a Mormon ward house, as it is one of the oldest in the valley is it distinct from the others...it looks like your ordinary chapel house with old brick and stain glass windows. Parking in front of our house can be scarce sometimes due to Church activities...as I have parking in the back of the house this doesn't bother me so much as it does my friends and parents who try to find off street parking.

And while I seriously dislike the Mormon religion, some aspects of the culture are kinda nice...such as when a group of giggly 20 somethings rang my doorbell to give me a thank you note and some cookies for letting them park out front. Not that I have any choice in the matter, and honestly, I had no choice but to take the cookies and thank you card. And I had no choice but to eat them. And boy are they tasty....

I think that if that happened anywhere else in the states, you know- complete strangers giving you food, no one would trust to eat the food. But here...it is no problem.

And as I am the only one home tonight....I feel no guilt in eating all of these cookies myself. mmmmmmmm.....

My Brother Hearts Jake Ryan

My brother desperately wanted to watch 16 Candles and the Breakfast Club tonight. He had seen a shirt that said "I heart Jake Ryan" and he almost bought it, but didn't as it was a V-neck...and I think that he has limits on how flaming he really will be.

So in an effort to explain more to him about the Brat Pack---complete with pictures, god I LOVE the internet---I came across this great article written on Valentine's Day 2004 called Real Men Can't Hold a Match to Jake Ryan of 'Sixteen Candles'. It is all about how there are all of these jaded women (and some men) who are ever searching for the perfect man, the Jake Ryan's of the world. Basically, it says that they don't exist.

I beg to differ.

I would say that Mr.3 could be a Jake Ryan. I have had that moment, when I am walking around after a bad day, sort of oblivious thinking, only to look up and see him from across the quad smiling at me with that little wave. I have those moments with Mr.3 all the time...those sweet tender moments that may not make other melt...but I did and do when I think about him. Also when we talk about instances where the great guy notices the strange quirky girl and falls in love with her instead...if that isn't us, I don't know what it.

Hopefully, my Jake Ryan will be home tomorrow morning.....I can't wait.

Bad Day(s)

Model Arab League has ended...I'm exhausted, and the huge post I did to tell the long sordid story of why BYU's unprofessional behavior made me cry got accidentally erased. It is probably someone telling me to just let go of the whole situation. Or at least approach it with less anger.

So I am just going to continue drinking my girlie beer and eat the generic store brand of cookie crisp and maybe watch a little law and order.

I really wish that Mr.3 was home today, just so that he could hold me. His train back from DC has been delayed in Omaha because of a blizzard. He should be home tomorrow.

Inshallah.

Job Perks

One of the perks of my job is that I can get free lunch by being a filler person at the luncheons we hold for our speakers. Today I got dragged in to a lunch that I really didn't want to go to....and while the speaker was a very nice man with a extremely firm handshake...the rest of the company wasn't that great.

One of the donors was at the dinner and the guy drives me nuts...loud and obnoxious with the self-confident attitude that he can loudly prattle on about anything because he is rich. The gentleman in question is a "metal man" for lack of a better word...he has a recycling scrap business...which can make you alot....ALOT of money. Whenever I am around him however, he is so rude and obnoxious that he makes me want to become some upper-class British snob. "You're a metal man are you? From Cheapside? Oh dear, I don't care how care how rich you are with your 'new money' you will never be seen at St. James Court!" (kudos if you get all of those references)

The one truly amusing point of the whole long affair today, was the bug being inappropriate in polite company again. We were at the point where I was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for being able to leave when everyone ordered tea and coffee. The bug and the director ,"I", got tea. "I" was talking to the speaker when the empty cup, teabag, and pot of hot water was delivered to him. The bug immediately sat into setting up her tea, but "I" was busy speaking. Then the bug began to wave her tea bag at Kelly--our office assistant--sitting next to "I". Of course, she is confused, and as the bug began to wave her tea bag around more and more fervently..more and more of the table was taking note of her strange behavior. Kelly grabbed "I"s tea bag and held it out to the bug. This is when she loudly said..."No, I want you to fix "I"s tea!"

Problems with this statement:
1. "I" was embarrassed and announced that he was perfectly capable of making his own tea.
2. "I" hates it when the staff babys him...so we NEVER do it. If the bug had been sitting next to him and she had started to make his tea for him he would have slapped her hand. And Kelly isn't required or ever expected in ANY circumstances to wait on the director.
3. oh yeah....the embarrassing silent moment that this little interchange created.

In any case, the incident filled me with mirth....kinda like the time when we had the secret service in the office and she walked in and pretended that her hand was a gun...

oh....good times.

The wait is almost over!

Mr.3 went to Mount Vernon today, and since I couldn't go with him I thought that I would leave you a link.

Well I (and we) have survived the first week of business-related separation. I am starting to relax and I really really really really really really can't wait for Mr.3 to come home. I am also starting to calm down about the enormity of the possible lifestyle change. I don't really want to change how we live...rather I want to save every freaking penny possible! But I am looking forward to the days where I can keep frivolous food items like potato chips in the house and actually be able to eat them without guilt. And it isn't some some of diet guilt but rather the guilt of buying food that gets eaten so fast. It will be wonderful!

That, and I am super excited about getting new tires. The passenger front tire was about flat once Jimmy and I made it to Price (10 pounds of air in it)...my Dad thinks that it is a slow leak. Hopefully it will make it all the way back (and yes, we refilled it with air...I know you were thinking about that).

Also there is good news galore about my Dad's employment situation....more on that soon.

News News News

Actually this news is a few days old, but I am really feeling the brunt of it today. Mr.3 got a job this week...a really good job doing computer consulting like he used to. Instead this time he isn't the manager of the business and it should be alot less stressful. Let's hope.

And if we all wanted a situation where our trust of the other had to be tested....this is it.

Currently, Mr.3 is somewhere on a bus somewhere is probably Illinois on his way to Washington DC. He needs to be there for training on the 13th and he will be gone close to 14 days if you count in travel time.

He is taking the bus for 2 reasons. One, he doesn't have his ID (long story on that) and two, it is all I could afford (as it is, I feel bad that I could only give him 200 to survive on...that is less than $20 a day). The company he will be working for has assured him that they will make sure he has the means to get back home. As they will be issuing him ID (another really long story) it is likely that they will be able to fly him home. I hope that they will be able to do that, simply because Ehud Barak will be speaking at the University on the 22nd, and "I" might be able to get him an audience with the former PM. As he is working on a project about the Lebanon war, it would be great to be able to ask some questions. ...and I wouldn't mind it if he was home as early as he could be.

14 days is a long time when you consider that I have only had him home for 4 weeks. Last Friday was our first wedding anniversary. I took the day off and it was a wonderful day with him...but bittersweet as we had to get him on the bus early the next morning.

When and if he comes home he will be bringing with him a reimbursement check and a rather hefty signing bonus check. This will be great seeing that my meager paycheck will not have gotten us through the month anyway...and since 2/3rds of my paycheck went to getting him to DC...the need is all the more greater.

Last summer when I left him in Denver all the alarms and bells and whistles of my intuition were going off...they aren't now. My gut reaction is that this is all happening and that things are starting to get better....and my rational side has only a teeny tiny voice that keeps reminding me that you might need to be prepared if this is just a ruse. If he doesn't come back, I will without a doubt, not be able to survive it. People keep noting my strength...but honestly if this fails...I won't be able to endure.

And Mr.3 knows how I feel, he knows my fears....and he knows just how hard it was for me to tell him the other night that I did trust him.

The only way to really test if you trust someone is just to trust them and see how they manage with that trust.

So....I am trusting him.

Drop Down Menus from Hell!

I want to create a drop-down menu for my Excel spreadsheets detailing the wonders of DOE reporting....and I follow all of the frigging instructions only to have the damn thing not work!!!! I have tried like four different instructions and each of them do not work. this shouldn't be that hard!

Forget creating the fucking template....Microsoft can eat my ass.

Hi folks!
Contrary to the absolute frustration of the drop down menus...my Monday at work has been really good...why else would I have the time to spend two hours figuring out drop-down menus for a template that only I will ever use?

Tired or Scared?

I am exhausted...or at least I think that I am. All I know is at this moment I am tired and avoiding going to bed.

Last week whatever pestulance the boys had was given to me. I missed only one day at work because on the one day that I felt like I could die I realized that I didn't have the time to be sick. In order to sleep and take away the pain and achiness away I have been taking Tylenol PM...which after use of longer than 3 to 4 days of use can lead to strange symptoms such as a sense of dreaming while awake, grogginess, anxiety, cloudy thinking...and depression.

Of course the depression was there to begin with, and the medicine only makes it worse.

Why am I depressed? I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I am supporting five people on one paycheck that manages to cover rent and utilities but not food. My loan check from my student loans went way way too fast...but then again, we really needed to stock up on food from Costco and I needed to pay my parents back for their monetary gift of my bankruptcy lawyer fees. Everything that was bought was justified but we still couldn't get the things that we needed like phones, or the rather desperate need of new tires. They are so bald at the moment that I am just waiting for one of them to burst when I am driving someone to somewhere for something. It is like waiting for an axe to fall. or...what is it called...the sword of damacles?

I have thought about starting my thesis...or rather I panic about not being able to read enough to do it adequately. So far I have kept up with my classes...but I know that I should be doing so much more.

I don't miss working at Williams-Sonoma but I miss the extra paycheck. While something is in the works with Mr.3, I have no idea of when it will all come through. Which makes me want to start looking for a second job again, and then the voice of reason in the back of my head says two things---why should you? and do you really think that you will be able to survive it, the last time nearly killed you?

Mr.3 has been home for three weeks now. And things have been good mostly....the mostly basically accounts for my multiple freakouts because of one thing or another. I thought that I was a stable person, but I'm not. I keep cracking. When I try to explain things to Mr.3 he gets quiet and internalizes it all...and I don't want him to take it personally, I just need someone to listen and understand what is going through my head. I haven't started any fights and I haven't directly accused him of anything....but whenever I try to explain my panic and anxiety over the possibility of him lying to me again or him leaving me...he sees it as a personal attack.

Since he has been back I have had dreams that I can't find him, or that he is leaving me, or that someone has forcibly taken him away from me. These nightmares happen every night. With or without the addition of medication to my system. I feel consumed by these nightmares and my anxieties. Again I find myself in mid-step, hovering between one place and the other...the other being the answer to so many questions and the knowledge that everything will really be ok in one sense or another.

My self-esteem is even shot. Yes, I am big and always have been...but I have always had a strong level of confidence. Two Fridays ago I went in for my annual girlie exam...and even though the doctor talked to me about my latex allergy...I discovered only after the INTERNAL examination that she used latex gloves. The first time I discovered that I had this problem it took me five months of hell to heal. I have been taking antihistamines to help counteract my skin's reaction, and numerous salt baths to try and keep my ph in balance...but things still aren't right, and I don't know when they will be. This does not help my self-image at all.

The only thing that I have felt that I have managed to do right lately is get back on tract with my article writing for Global Voices. I got 34 comments on my Hrant Dink post....34! That is unheard of!

So where does this leave me? On the couch, typing at almost 1 in the morning, because I am afraid of my dreams...of my insecurities overtaking me...or the kitchen full of dirty dishes....or the house that needs cleaning...the articles and books that need reading....of everything and then nothing at all.

We interupt your regularlly scheduled program....

sorry for the interruption in the India stories, but I need to break in and tell you that Mr.3, my beloved Mr.3, is now home. Oh course it was a long road with 3 bus breakdowns and some lost luggage, but he is home now. We have a lot to work out over the next few days, weeks, and months...however we have always been stronger together and we will be able to get through this.

I am sooooo happy that he is home!

Snake Charmers and other ways to get paid for just being yourself....

The one thing my Dad wanted from India was for me to get a picture of a snake charmer. And I did. Please look at and learn to love this picture, show it to your friends, show it to whoever you would like to....please show it and look at it....just so I can feel like the 5 bucks that this guy charged me to take his picture wasn't in vain.

Of course I didn't know when I was taking the picture that I would be charged for it...silly me...because I come from a society that doesn't normally accept the average joe to be paid for just being themselves. And of course....I am a dorky tourist who like so many other people before me....fall into the scam. The history of snake charming is interesting though.

There are alot of people in India who expect to be paid for being themselves...and so many street performers who start performing for you that you don't want to pay but get sucked into it unwillingly. I guess that in the US the shame of watching someone perform and not paying them isn't that big of a thing....but in India that is many people's only livelihood.

At the airport on my way home I talked with a doctoral student who was working with Indian children and various NGO's...it is fascinating all of the work being done to help children in poverty. There are thousands of children who leave rural areas in India to come to the big cities every day. Most of these kids are abused both in their homes and when they get to the cities. Teaching them a trade like street-performing is a way for them to learn how to get by alone in the world. I still have to deal with my issues of not wanting to pay people when I didn't give consent for them to perform. I can afford it....I am just selfish and don't want it forced upon me.



While we were at the Red Fort, my friend Oiwan and I were sitting out on the grass relaxing, waiting for some other friends to catch up with us; a woman came up and stood really close behind us and had her husband take a picture of us. I didn't think anything about it until she ran off giggling and pointing at us. She had taken the picture only to have a picture of the fat American and the exotic Asian girl. As she ran away I realized that I had missed out on a great opportunity.....

I could have made 200 rupees for that photo.

What's an American Yogi like you doing in a Pizza Hut like this? Or Tale of the McCurry

Being an American traveling abroad, it is always appropriate to sample the local variations of American cuisine....realistically....this is also when your stomach can't handle another bite of curry that you become desperate for anything that resembles home even if it is horribly warped.

A couple of blocks from our hotel was a McDonald's...and of course, I had to try it....for travel's sake and because a french fry was probably the only thing that my stomach would be able to handle. I should have taken a photo of the menu board but was to "McChicken" too. (hee hee...I'm so funny!) Either way, as the internet is such a wonderful place you can view the McDonald's in India Veg and Non-Veg menu. I learned alot about how Indians view waiting in line from our trip here.

There is no such thing as a line....only a mob scrambling to get to the counter.

For an American who is used to her bubble of space...this was hard. What was harder was once I had gotten my McChicken meal for 99 rupees (about $1.50) I couldn't turn around to get out. So I yelled loudly "Backing Up, Move Out of the Way!". It didn't turn out to be quite the parting of the Red Sea that I was hoping that it would be, but I did manage to get out. The meal was good, but slathered in mayonnaise--ick. The fries were great because beef is forbidden in India, they were not cooked in beef grease as in America, so you didn't get the feeling that you were going to die of cholesterol. Finally a French Fry that Libby would approve of!

Of course in India, you see alot of the older more-well-to-do Americans who are trying to "reconnect with themselves so why not be like the Beatles, do the cliche thing and go to India"....you see them everywhere...and it hurts. It hurts so bad.

Anyway, we decided to go to the Pizza Hut (oh please check out their website...the song alone is enough to warrant its entertainment value) and there was one of the American Yogi wannabes there....complete with the long white hair and beard...and the leather headband thingy. He looked so out of place, it was really funny. But I believe that even the Beatles had their limit on curry.

The food was great (still oddly skewed) but they used real mozzarella cheese which was wonderful. Indian cheese tastes alot like feta with all of the salt blanched out of it. In fact one of my Asian counterparts has eating a cheese kebab type dish and was shocked when we told him it was cheese.

He thought it was tofu.

That isn't dark circles under your eyes, it's just soot

I don't know where people travel when they go to India, but it sure as hell isn't in New Delhi. I have been to some pretty filthy places in the world, but New Delhi is by far the worse.

In a way, I had expected the extreme poverty and was quite curious about it when I was there...I did not expect the air to be as polluted as it was. All of my pictures look hazy and bluish because the light would reflect off of the smog and dilute the colors of where we were.

My lungs ached the entire time I was there and I would hang out with the smokers because the smoke felt better on my lungs than the regular air that I was breathing. When I blew my nose, it was black. Literally black. In Turkey, kicking up all of the dirt on the dig, you would become accustomed to brown in your tissue, but never black.

After sight-seeing my exposed skin was covered in gritty soot. It was truly nasty.

If I go back to India, I will not stay in New Delhi....and I recommend that you don't as well... Trust me, your lungs will sing my praises.

American Muslim?

Our travels in India stayed within the boundaries of New Delhi. Across from the Red Fort is the Jama Masjid and a subject of our sightseeing my second to last day in India. You could tell that we were getting to the Muslim section of town because the type of dress began to change for the men and women....loosely veiled women transformed into tightly veiled women....sikh turbans morphed into prayer caps. The first photo here is of the Red Fort from the opening of the gates to the Jama Masjid, the next photo is of the gated opening into it and a view of not only the mob of people there, but the vendors that were there as well. The shopping was pretty good, I purchased several prayer rugs for the house at rock bottom prices and got a little something for Mr.3...which I can't detail here because he will probably read this before he comes home and can open the gift for himself.
I find it strange that I am consistently reminded of how comfortable I feel in an Islamic element. I was reminded of it every minute that I was in India (and during Dione's wedding mass I also felt it keenly). I know that I am not the best or even the most conventional of Muslims, but I am sure in my heart that I have made the correct decision for me.

Now my traveling buddies were all based out of China or somewhere in East Asia and it was nice to be able to point out to them the differences between Hindi and Islamic culture as they didn't recognize what they were seeing. John even went so far to having me help him find a hijab to take back to show his mom. I was tempted to buy some of the outfits that I saw for work, but I was running out of money. In any case, I looked at the items closely enough that I can form a pattern from what I saw and make something to put in the Outreach closet. It is funny how everything I do revolves around my work in some way.....

I digress.... I gathered alot of looks to begin with in India, and it also held true for our time at the Jama Masjid....except this time the curiosity was with me being obviously American and shockingly Muslim at the same time. I took a photo of the front of the Masjid but did not take photos of the inside courtyard area...for two reasons. One, I have issues with taking photos of places that feel sacred to me and/or a place that I actively intend to pray in, and two...some guy wanted to charge me for taking photos.

I took off my shoes, covered my head, and walked in. As I got through the main foyer some guy tried to sell me a tour of the place. When I asked were the women go to pray he was shocked, and then tried to tell me some nonsense about the women's area being on some balcony....in an area that clearly had no balconies. It was a massive courtyard exterior for the prayer area. Everything in India is open air and this was no exception...I walked past dozens of people who were staring at the strange American with her head covered. Finally I found a small alcove, away from prying eyes, and took a brief respite. As I follow the sufic school of Islam, I don't pray in the traditional manner (I hadn't done my absolutions anyway, and wasn't wearing enough to comfortably pray in public). I simply sat and centered myself....focusing on each breath, silently saying "Allah" to myself with each inhale and exhale (this is called the Dhakir).

I met up with my friends about 10 minutes later....John was negotiating with some guy who was trying to charge him for watching his shoes outside of the mosque. I got mad at the guy.....because it was absolutely outrageous what he was doing...you don't charge people to take off their shoes in front of a mosque! It sickens me though, because you know that plenty of tourists who don't know better fall pray to that scam everyday.

As I was putting my shoes back on, several Muslim women kept giggling and twittering next to me....each pushing the other to go and talk to me. When I addressed them "Assalam al walakum" (Peace Be Upon You-the traditional greeting to another Muslim) they fell silent and ducked away, too shocked to answer me back. Which was pretty much the case for everyone there.

I felt in my element, but the entire time I was walking around I felt like I needed Lenny Kravitz behind me singing "American Muslim" instead of "American Woman".

Everyone Needs a Good Bum Kneading

In India, it is auspicious to be....well....big like me.

In other words....this was yet another trip filled with stares and pinches for me. Unfortunately this is something that I am getting used to. Well you can never fully get used to it, but I can pretend for a moment, can't I?

Our story begins on the subway, or metro, or monorail...whatever you wish to call it. The picture shows it being rather empty, once you board you are packed in like sardines.
I have experience of being in tightly packed trains, but nothing like this. It was so tight I couldn't move my arms, and at a couple of instances, my own body.

It started innocently enough, the 14 year old (that is what I am classifying him as...either way he was old enough to know what he was doing and that it was wrong, but young enough that he thought that he could get away with it) was packed in next to me. At first it was just him pressed next to me...like everyone else. Then it was noticeably his pelvis pressing/rubbing up against me as hard as he could without attracting attention.

I squirmed my body away as best as I could.

The crowd shifted and my body became trapped, unable to move away. His hand began to rub tiny circles on my right hip, then moving southwards to fondle my right bum cheek.

I tried to move away but I couldn't...and my friend John wasn't translating my panic looks correctly.

His hand begins to press and squeeze and bit more firmly now. I tighten my bum cheeks...but my bum is so big that you really can't tell when I am pressing them tightly together. I know this because I checked afterwards. Either way, his hand has now moved to the recess between two bum cheeks and I am truly starting to freak out.

I kicked backwards, hit the wrong person who said something sharply to me in Hindi. I smiled an apology and tried to grab John to help me, but he was being pushed back further into the crowd. I twisted my body as much as I could, throwing my hips out as much as possible, pushing back several Indians who weren't happy with me either.

The kid just pressed his shoulder into to my shoulder blades, making me arch and definitely immobile...and he continued on with his exploration of the left side of my posterior.

And then, thankfully, our stop comes and I push roughly against him to get out. He had the same stop and after we got out he turned around and just leered at me....knowing what he had done and that he had gotten away with it. I shouted at him "Your Mother would be ashamed!"

It was at this point that the rest of my party realized that there was a problem. Yeah I should have made a scene, but it is alot harder than what it seems...and Americans already have the stigma of being loud and obnoxious. After this, it became the running joke between us all. When we were at the Red Fort, John started to tell me about all of the people he was noticing, noticing me. And to think about all of the guys we saw primping and preening, trying to catch my eye....it still is pretty funny.

The next time I travel though, the only person kneading my bum will be my husband.

Welcome back to the land of the living...or so I tell myself

Returning from India was much more difficult than I thought that it would be...seeing that India refused to leave me.

You should always be worried when you read travel notices giving strange stomach ailments that people receive while traveling to a certain place "cute names" like "Delhi Belly". Oh, yes, it sounds cute and fun and just something that everyone gets (insert fake houghty touty laugh here)....but it is hell. Much worse than Genghis or Aziz (my resident Turkish parasites that have been with me for several years now)....having diarrhea is one thing.....having diarrhea where you are not digesting anything is scary. Scary such as drinking a red gatorade and passing red liquid in the bathroom for hours afterward. At first I thought that I might be bleeding intestinally...but the reality was worse.

Of course, as soon as I came back from India I was working at Williams-Sonoma...who are absolutely horrible to their holiday workers. Now I have been in the position of having to deal with temporary workers and granted, some of them aren't really the best. And if some have complained about wanting to go home early because they don't want to work, I admit that I have kept them working. However if someone was truly sick, I sent them home. This is not the policy of Williams-Sonoma. In fact they even had me stay extra time even after it was apparent that I was close to death and had asked to go so that I could go and see the doctor. I called in on Christmas Eve because it was the only time that I had to go to the doctor.

Of course, every time I have gone to the doctor after traveling there is this awkward period where they have to tell you that some "discomfort" will happen when you travel to the strange places that I do. Basically it is the "filler lecture" while they silently freak out for not having the slightest clue what is wrong with me. The doctor was going to just let me go before she started to pay attention to me and realized that I wasn't responding like a normal person would----I was really out of it, my family was really concerned. So she gave me an IV. The nurse told us that it would take about 40 minutes to an hour for my body to take the IV. 20 minutes and one power pak IV bag later they realized that it might be wise to give me a second IV. Apparently I was the first person that they had ever seen who needed two before.

What can I say? When I get sick, I get sick.

I was told to "take it easy" for a couple of days...basically- I was bedridden for 3 days. Thankfully I am better now...and I have so much to write and tell people that I am absolutely bursting with stories. I promised India so that is next, but I will have to tell you about Dione's wedding, the question of whether Mr.3 will ever get home (damn the weather...or should it just be damn Denver?), and of course my Mehndi connection at First Night. I would have written sooner, but the new year has made me decide that I need to be the first person with dibs on my computer not my brother or the rest of my family. Jimmy is going through extreme MySpace withdrawls today...but I don't care....he doesn't share well, why should I?

Jetlag Haze

Good news abounds!

1. I am home after 20 hours in a plane...and I am only slightly loopy.
2. Mr.3 is FREE!!!! He is now at his parent's home and we will see about getting him back here within the next few days---hopefully by Christmas....oh please, please, let him be home by Christmas!

As for me....yes I need to post more, but I did put up a ton of the photos from India, there will be more but as the night gets later and later the slower and slower my mind works. That and the delhi belly that I am dealing with takes alot more time and bum pain that what I would like. Raj and Sandjish are battleing with Gengis and Aziz for supremacy of my GI tract. My money is on Gengis and Aziz...they have been there longer.

India-Part 3

So India kinda grew on me yesterday, but I am still glad that I will be leaving today. And since I do not know how much time I will have before the internet connection goes out on me, I thought that I would give you all a taste of the stories to come.

Everyone needs a good bum kneading

American Muslim?

That isn’t dark circles under your eyes, it’s just soot

What’s an American Yogi like you doing in a Pizza Hut like this? Or Tale of the McCurry

Snake Charmers and other ways to get paid for just being yourself

Oh yeah….The GV Conference, day one and day two, otherwise known as….finally I am not the only one who…oh wait, I am? Damn!

Can I just get an email out? Please!

Sex at the Isa Khan tomb

India is popular for the strangest of things

Ricksaw Madness or How many foreigners can you stuff into a shopping cart for 100 rupees?

This is probably not an exhaustive list, but a decent one I think. Type at you again soon! I will be back home on Wednesday to my house and beloved cable modem connection.

Oh and did I mention….Wednesday, inshallah, Mr.3 will be freed!!! Thank God!

India Part 2

Many people come to India to find some sort of clarity in their lives. My trip to India seems to have clarified something that I had been working towards for a long time…

I’m tired.

Tired of traveling with no money and beating myself up over every cent that I pay. Tired of having to stay at low-rate hotels….tired of feeling like a back packer. Tired of traveling by myself. Granted I am very grateful for being able to come here…but I came for the Global Voices conference, not to see India. I came to be a part of something….but shopping and sightseeing without the ones that I love tear me apart. I am impossibly depressed at the moment. I want to spend and spend and spend and buy for me and for me and for me…I have felt that lately everything has been all about me helping other people….me giving up for other people. And I am tired of that too. I’m tired of feeling like I am going to break into tears at any given moment…that all moments of reflection are moments where all of the sadness that I have been bottling up comes to the surface.

I realized last night that I used to be a fun and witty person. Last night at the dinner I was very very dull…a shadow of my former self.

India Part 1

I have made it to India safe and sound…much sounder than any of the internet connections that I have come across. The hotel that I am staying at has wireless but it is patchy at best. I waited for a half hour the other day for it to finally connect and was able to enjoy 15 to 20 minutes of workable internet…long enough to be able to send emails to everyone under the sun to let them know that I was ok. And then, like clockwork, the second I start to check other things that aren’t as valuable…the connection goes down.

Currently I am sitting in the first day of the Global Voices conference…a group of people known for their multitasking. I spent most of the time, between taking notes on what was being said, chatting with my Mom. This is probably a good reason for me not to have my computer with me during class time. But let’s also note the coolness of the situation…I am sitting in a conference in New Delhi and typing with my Mom in Price Utah just as I would if I was a work.

I have several pictures that I want to put up, but they might have to wait until I get back home because it seems to take forever for these things to get loaded up here. Man, am I spoiled with my cable line and my T1 line at work.

The taxi/motor ricksaw thing is totally crazy here. If you have read Harry Potter he talks about the Night Bus fitting into impossible spaces and going very fast….they must have been thinking about India when they wrote that, because I am not sure how they fit where they did, and how they did it without killing us all. I always thought that Istanbul drivers were bad….turkey is nothing compared to here. Once I accepted that I was going to die, I began to have a lot of fun.

I went shopping with a Bahraini blogger yesterday…I had a lot of fun but I spent way too much money and I have been beating myself up about it. Partly because I wanted to spend more than what I did and still want to spend more and the other side of me who is angry because I shouldn’t have spent anything because it all needs to go to rent at the end of the month. Then again, how often is one in India? Either way I keep going back and forth on it. Like to the point of making myself cry over it.

turkish posts

I have been thinking today about what has been said about my Turkish posts. And I don't think that the issue of quantity is really that important. The quality of the Turkish posts are much higher than the Kurdish posts. And I prouder of the Turkish articles that I have written than the Kurdish. I am currently working on an article about the Pope visiting Turkey. It is taking longer than what I would like...but I have much more material to sort through.

So is quality better than quanity, or the other way round?

SNL Hugh Laurie - 4 Protest Song - Subtitulado

Brilliance from Hugh Laurie!

Cheese Fries with Jimmy

Again, my brother impresses me with his maturity.

Last night I made him make dinner...cheese fries...delicious.

After reading the comments left of GV by Metin and Murat I was upset, and Jimmy was so kind to listen to me cry over the whole thing. And he hugged me too...which I also needed.

I left a snide comment on Murat's blog...he included two separate jabs at me in his blogroll update and closed with "Hopefully no one's feelings are hurt". I left the comment that it was "too late". Perhaps I shouldn't have left it, because the last thing that I want to do is to start some "internet fight" and I don't have the stamina to stay mad at someone in real life let alone the cyber world. But the comments that they have left have hurt me deeply and partly...it is my fault.

Fault 1- I made the mistake in thinking of these guys as friends of mine. We have emailed frequently and in the case of Murat talked on the phone. Murat and Metin have consistantly been the ones to send me words of encouragement and support through these tough times....they knew of my situation and seemed to understand.

Fault 2- I believed both Metin and Murat when they described themselves as "Progressive Turks", they have both written about the Kurdish question and how it needed to be re-evaluated. Now they have chosen to make up assumptions about my "Kurdish favoritism" on Global Voices...when I have perhaps been the harshest critic of the Kurds.

Of course the real possibility of their recent "ganging up" on me, could be the fact that their vanity is hurt because I haven't written about them...and somehow they think that by giving me some sort of "push" is going to make me brighten up to them and announce to my readership that everything they have to say is right. I really don't think that this is a case of Turkish nationalism but rather a case of their readership being down...and on this point, I am going to stop here...because I have many opinions on this that many would think are "self-serving" on my part.

I'm upset at the hypocrisy here...don't say that you are my friend and that you are concerned about what happens to me...when obviously, you don't.

too much

I am not sure where to start with this. Just when I start to fill like I am back on my feet, I feel like I have been smacked in the face with a board.

Good news on Mr.3, his court date in on the 20th and I have been told that the prosecution can't prove the case and that he will also be released that day. I have to talk to his lawyer first because I worry that he--meaning the lawyer--is telling him something that he would like to hear. I can't afford to pay the phone bill to correctional billing services until the 7th, so I haven't been able to talk to Mr.3 and have been told everything through his mom. The bankruptcy is going through. I now have the luxury of being able to answer my phone. It is a hollow victory. I seem to work all the time now...ferrying myself between job 1 and job 2. Saturday was horrible. Outreach had a workshop and I worked from 7am to 4pm straight, and then on to Williams-Sonoma from 5pm to 11pm. It is the last week of school and I have a thousand projects to complete.

Every morning I wake up and take an Aleve because I ache so much.

And of course, my own desire to be perfect is slowly killing me. I love writing for Global Voices, I love being a part of it...but lately I haven't been able to write anything. And the Turkish bloggers are turning on me....citing favoritism to the Kurds when really the only reason I think that the Kurdistance article gets done is because it is during the week and the Turkey article is on Saturday. I want people to understnad my stress right now...that I feel like I am facing the impossible....but nothing I seem to do is good enough for me or anyone else for that matter. I feel really hurt by the comments lately put on Global Voices by Murat and Metin...and yeah...I may just be over-sensitive but that is my only viewpoint at the moment. I have been considering talking with my editor to re-do my writing schedule or to switch to a bi-weekly option until I can mentally get back on my feet. And let's not even get into the guilt over my lack of writing and going to India this month...guilt and embarassment really....it is too late to cancel, in fact it was too late to cancel last month.

I feel so broken.

Robot Chicken - Calvin and Hobbes

Barot - Cultural Learnings of Islam

Ok, so I found a bunch of videos today that I wanted to show Mr.3 when he got back, so I am going to post them here.

Routine.

I wrote the letter...well part of it anyway...but I am going to wait to give it to him when he is back home. Libby and Mom read it and told me that it was mild. Either way, the act of writing the letter was very soothing. I cried for a little while after I wrote it. I haven't been able to cry for a while so it was nice.

I think that I am beginning to get used to the new routine. ..at least where my brother and job 1 and job 2 are concerned. I have a ton of school work coming due and this weekend will be rough. I also finally got around to cleaning the house (parents are coming to stay for this weekend and for thanksgiving), so now that the house is clean after the explosion that hit it when Jimmy moved in it will be easier to keep up. Of course in order to find time to clean the house this morning I got up at 4am.

And to the anon. commentator... your well wishes do mean something to me. I thank you for them. Take care.

The letter I wish that I could write

I have not been able to talk or write to my husband since August without having someone else listening or reading what was written....nothing has been private with us for so long that I am afraid that I will never be able to have a candid and honest conversation with him...if I have in fact ever have.

I have alot of anger issues....a lot. And I want to write a letter to Mr.3 detailing all the places that he has hurt me. He has destroyed my trust...yet me made me feel like a horrible person for not trusting him in August when he was obviously lying to me. I wanted him to meet me halfway: emotionally, financially....marriage is a partnership after all....and all I feel like I have been doing is trying to please him, to make me happy...when I don't see him trying to do much of that for me. I have never said no to him...and that, is going to change.

In his letters he apologizes for not being there during my Grandpa's death...he knew how much it meant to me to have the two of them meet, and they never did. But there is no apology for what he has put me through, the lying, none of that. No apology for any of the hurt he has caused me.

Case in point. I have asked him for practically nothing...but one thing that I did want was a shiny wedding ring. He told me several times that he had picked something out and had put a downpayment on something and that I would just love it...etc...etc...etc. And when we finally had the money for it, he made an annoucement that we needed to go down to the mall that I knew had the jewelery store that he had supposedly made arrangements with, he said that we needed to buy "something special". So here I am, excited that I am finally going to get what he had promised...and what did he buy....$200 of name-brand shirts that he didn't need. Thinking about it now still makes me tear-up. I didn't want anything expensive and regardless of all of the promises that he gave me, I watched (and let) him spend money easily over 6 times the cost of that ring on frivilious items...each time getting more and more hurt in the process.

so I need to tell him these things...and I think that it is important that he knows just what exactly he will be coming home to when the time comes...not that I am some raging beast (at least I don't think so), but I feel that I need to let him know some things now. He has so much to answer for...so much.

working...

I forgot how exhausting working two jobs can be. I did it for years and then I got spoiled with only working full-time at one job instead of piecing together 2 jobs to get the full-time pay.

Now I am piecing together the full-time job with the part time job...50+ hours this week. Either I am complaining with cause or I have developed into one big giant wuss.

Either way...my feet hurt today.

Anniversaries

Yesterday was really hard. Yesterday marked my 9 month anniversary and marked the time where I have spent as much of my married life with Mr.3 as I have away from him. And yesterday also marked -as Mr.3 informed me of yesterday- the two year anniversary of our first meeting. He came into the MEC and I had asked him if I was drooling all over myself because I had been to the dentist earlier that morning.

during our phone conversation last night I cried through most of it. I apologized to him, but I can't help it. I have so many questions that I need to ask him, but if it puts him in a bad light we shouldn't discuss it because anything he says can be used against him. so I am sad and angry at having been put in this position.

today on campus they are celebrating veteran's day. this hurts as well. I am married to a veteran who was hurt more than I will ever be able to understand. a veteran who last year dove underneath the table when they did a cannon salute in honor in of the day. a veteran who recites the soldier's creed like a mantra while waiting in jail. a veteran who after being in treatment for months is denied his medication by his jailers...how fair is that? how can he ever get better? how can be ever get to the point where we will be able to start over again?

Overwhelmed?

I think that I am but then again, I am not really sure. If I wasn't as busy I might be able to evaluate my situation more clearly.

Basically I think that I am having issues with my multiple roles: student, worker, daughter, wife, and now...a mom of sorts.

Student: I didn't start to study for my midterm on Tuesday until Monday night at 9pm. I hadn't been doing any of my readings at all during the semster so there was a lot to catch up on. I have projects coming due that I have not started...and I have been working on getting my committee set up and my thesis topic approved. I am a horrible student actually, but I manage to pull things out all right in the end. Additionally, I don't want to go to class today, but I will probably go just so that I have time to write a letter to Mr.3 or not go because it is raining and there a lot of wet leaves on the ground....me=clutz, and wet leave+rain+running late for class=disaster for me.

Worker: I feel like I am just skirting by in Outreach, I should be so much more productive than what I am. As for Global Voices, I haven't written anything in close to 3 weeks for them now. I am sure that I am annoying my editor and disappointing my readership. I tried to work on my Kurdish article last night, but I couldn't focus...I'm so tired and emotionally distraught. I think Grandpa's death is affecting me more than what I want to admit. And of course, I start my first full shift at Williams and Sonoma today. Between the two jobs it will be a 10 hour work day.

Daughter: I want to be supportive of my family and I feel like I am failing in that as well. I know that my mom is going through a hell of a lot right now: one, with being a mom in general, two, she is in mourning, three, she is getting a house ready to sale, four, she is supporting my dad emotionally while he is looking for a new job, five, empty-nest sydrome from my brother...and well it is alot. She called me at 10 last night, wanting to talk and I feel that I failed her because I was too tired to really hold on a conversation. And I am also dealing with my Mother-in-law, who I have just met and only talked to on the phone a few times. Even though we have been thrust together under strange circumstances, I still have to be respectful of her while she chews me out about her phone bill (which I will go into more detail about soon). I just want to make everyone happy...or at least to be a support for them, and I am not very good at it.

Wife: the situation with Mr.3 is so complex at the moment that I will surely qualify for my own lifetime special. He was in the VA, then got picked up by the FEDs for studying about terrorism and was put on their watchlist, and now because of some issues left over from someone stealing his identity a couple of years ago (this person broke alot of laws in my husband's name) he is now in a jail in florida. I can write letters to him and get phone calls, but at a price. since Utah has tariffs on inmate phone calls (the bastards!), I have to pay a HUGE fee to speak to him. Inmates can make collect calls. His mom can talk to him for 15 minutes and only pay $2.50. I talk to him for 15 minutes, and I pay $18.34. So I have very little sympathy for his mom. She hasn't even gotten her phone bill for $25 worth of calls yet, and I have already paid $150. I will complain about inmate billing services and the fact that I have to pay for my husband being in the jail in another post. I have to contact a lawyer to file for bankruptcy and I am too busy to even do that. Now that I can have regular contact with Mr.3, the separation is much harder to bear. The reconcilliation that we need to do needs to be done face to face, not on opposite sides of the country.

Last night I dreamt that I had received word that he had died. And I tried to move on and start again. Then when I was in another relationship I received word that it was a mistake and that he was coming home...and I had to tell him that I had been cheating. Even in my dreams I seem to be failing the ones that I love.

Mom: well my little brother has made it through 2 full days at school. I know that he is going through a difficult time adjusting to not only the new living arrangements but a new school. He seems to be doing well. I want to be home in the afternoons and evening for him, but school and work interfere. Plus, now I have to take care of someone else...I have to remember to make meals for others. Most of the time I am just lazy and don't eat, but I can't do that to my brother. The dishes aren't done, the house is a wreck and the laundry is never ending.

Overall, I just feel like I am a failure in everything. I either need more hours in the day, or not to sleep...but I have to sleep because I am so exhausted from everything else. It is a horrible cycle and I feel like I am caught in that stupid Groundhog Day movie with Bill Murray... ever notice that that movie was good the first time you watched it, but that it just got worse and worse on the other times? And apparently they are starting a TV series along that same theme...oh the endless repetition of the world! Gag!

I'm back

So much has happened to me in the last two weeks or so that the only way I can cover it all in one post is in list format.

1. Things continue to go well with Mr.3 and reconnecting with his family. He is currently in Florida dealing with some business that I am not prepared to discuss yet. Hopefully we will be able to bring him home soon.

2. Managed to successfully pull off my workshop at work on Saturday the 28th. This was my first one running things and it seemed to go smoothly---my boss is happy. However there is an explosion on my desk that I have to figure out.

3. Jimmy-my little brother-moved in with me on Friday the 28th. The house still isn't ready because...

4. We received word that Grandpa died on Saturday the 28th. So when I was expecting to have my family staying with me until Monday, there were here till Wednesday when we left for California.

5. Saturday night Jimmy and I went to Rocky Horror....tons of fun, but I can't do that late night stuff anymore.

6. Monday my family and I went to enroll Jimmy in his new high school. His counselor was horrible...his job was to know the classes and he didn't. After being in his office for 2 hours trying to find something to fit into the last class spot for Jimmy I cracked and decided that if Jimmy didn't need to have that time fit with a class then he could come home early....rather than spend one more minute with the man who insisted on scrolling through a 44 page pdf document even AFTER I told him that he could do a search function on it. Since we would have had to have Jimmy miss the rest of the week of school he officially starts next Tuesday...and I get to deal with the counselor again.

7. Tuesday afternoon I had a presentation in CBI class....afterwards Jimmy and I went again to Rocky Horror...again- lots of fun, new brother/sister tradition...I might post the pictures of us...or not, you will have to wait.

8. Early Wednesday morning we were off to California....did the whole drive in one day. Cousin Mary was so good to let us use her house in Palm Desert to stay at.

9. Thursday was the funeral and the multiple family gatherings that happen afterwards. There is alot of anger and animosity of how my (step) Aunt is handling things with my Grandma that I will probably discuss later. Let's just say that the step relationship wasn't an issue until my Aunt made it one a couple of months ago...and no one from my Grandma's family came from the funeral to support her...like her son. However her son has no problems is sending his daughter with a UHaul to my Grandma's house and cleaning it out.

10. Friday, The most difficult of days. We went to visit my Grandma, only to be made extremely unwelcome by my Aunt who was determined to give away all of my Grandma's and Grandpa's things---completely oblivious to the tears of my Grandma. I have a feeling that I will probably not be allowed to see her again.

11. Saturday was the long drive home again. I fell carrying stuff out to the car and I still ache. I might have broke a bone in my wrist, but the pain is lessening today to I might have just strained it. On the drive home the craziest thing happened....I ran into a friend from childhood at a gas station in Primm Nevada. She lives in LA now and the odd thing was that on her birthday-earlier in the month-I had a dream about her. Strange coincidences that life presents to me.

12. Contact with Mr.3 has been mostly through letters....so at least an hour a night has been spent writing to him...afterwards I am so tired that I don't have the energy to blog...I must work on time management.

13. Today was my first day of orientation for my holiday job at Williams-Sonoma, I start officially next Thursday.

14. Now I just have to figure out what we (the family) are going to do for the rest of today and to help my brother settle in while studying for a mid-term....

...for the most part things feel like they are calming down but not really...Grandpa finally being at peace does limit the stress levels though. Now it is just figuring out how to get back to regular business.

Interview Tonight on PRI

I am being interviewed tonight for Open Source Radio in conjunction with their show on "Talking Turkishness". They pulled me along for this ride based on my work for Global Voices.

You can listen online here, and I believe that they are archiving the stories, or if you are in Utah, KCPW will be airing the show at 7pm.

I only hope that I can pump my system with enough cold medicine to make myself sound decent.

Enlightenment Update

I talked to Mr.3 this morning. Yes, he was trying to start a new life...and the only way that he could completely get rid of all of the horrors of the first life was to start new, and that included a new name.

Never fear however....he is in the process of legally changing his name....which for men is a process that takes 2-3 years to go completely through. This leaves me the ability to still refer to Mike as Mike and not having to go through the strange process of having to learn to call him Scott.

Although I am being ravaged by a stress cold from let-down....I feel really good about all that has happened. When I talked to Mr.3 this morning, he told me that he has been trying to tell me the truth for months....but honestly....how do you really start a conversation like this?

I feel at peace today....which is good. Because I really need to be able to focus some of my attention on to school matters.

Enlightenment

Today has been an enlightening day to say the least. I heard from Mr.3. He is safe, which is good. However there is so much to this story....and I need to resolve alot of things. This will be a long road.

My husband suffers from PTSD, apparently when he came to Utah, he was running from something and was trying to start a new life that ran away from him.

Mr.3, or Mike...is not my husband's real name. It is Scott. He is not an orphan, but has a very loving family that has been searching for him for two years now.

Not everything he has said has been a lie...in fact just about everything he has said is true. His mother and father he told me was his Aunt and Uncle, but the histories are the same. His personality is still the same...his wants, his hopes, his loves....there are all still the same. Just a new name. I may have lost the name of my husband, but I will stand by the man. It is the man I love, not his name. And if we are meant to be, then we will be able to work this out.

I am not sure when I will see him next. He has some "obligations" to fulfill in the East. There might be a trip to Florida for me in the near future to meet the new extended family that I have gained today. His mother is a wonderful woman, and it is a shame that I had to meet her under these circumstances.

I went to a therapy appointment today, my first ever...and I really didn't like the lady. She wanted to boil the situation down to Mr.3 lied and get rid of him. Which is outrageous. PTSD is not a case of "simple lying", PTSD is a sickness. If someone who should have been taking medication for 2 plus years and hasn't...you don't just abandon him. You get him help. You also don't really control who you end up falling in love with...and I love him. And there is something to say for loving the way I feel when I am with him....how we can be in the same room not speaking and feel completely content and happy. Giving all of that up because he has a problem, doesn't help him, or me. I have gotten the impression from his mom, that many people have just left him when he has a problem. How can someone ever expect to get better if they are constantly abandoned? How can a person learn to find their self-worth if they don't have someone there to love and support them?

I choose to stand by my husband. I choose to give him a second chance.

Through this whole ordeal I have been told that often unhelpful phrase "Everything happens for a reason." Maybe this is happening not to help me out. Maybe this is happening to prove to Scott that he can depend on someone, and that it can be ok. That he can find love and support and learn to be happy with himself and his life.

Silence

My silence is linked to my husband's. It has been 88 hours since I last heard from my husband. I was helpless to find him before and I find myself equally helpless now. Except now I am filled with dread...something bad has happened to him and I am left without being able to help.

I have not been able to verify this entire time if my husband is really seeking help at the VA. The local VA denies that he is a patient, and the regional VA will only tell me that they do have a record of him in their system but that they cannot tell me anymore. And basically the only information that I have had about Mr.3 has come from Mr. 3 himself.

This week has been especially disturbing. According to Mr.3, in response to an email that he sent out to a congressman , there was a meeting with all of his doctors, etc., to discuss Mr.3's issues. They apparently hadn't been paying attention to him when he said that he wanted to go home, because they hear that from their patients all of the time. Tuesday he was told that he was going to be released on Friday morning. I got to talk to him for 10 minutes on Wednesday evening; in which he told me that he was to be able to get a 30 minute call on Thursday to arrange the details of his release on Friday. He didn't call on Thursday. I have received no contact whatsoever from him.

Worried is an understatement, as well as distraught.

I have been grateful that people have stopped asking about him because it saves me from crying in front of them. I cry at the oddest of things. Libby said the word "children" the other day and I completely lost it.

I don't want to envision a future without Mr.3 but I feel that I have to be prepared for it as well. Life will have to go on even though I feel as my heart has stopped.

rude collection call

so with all of the problems that have been happening the past few months I have been behind in my credit card payments....really far behind, and most people in my position would have declared bankrupcty by now...but I refuse. I want to pay my bills, I just can't at the moment, not until I can get a steady second income coming into the house. This entails me getting a second job, which I am working on.

With all of my creditors save one, I have been dealing with their hardship departments and they have been fairly nice and reasonable to work with. The exception is First Financial Bank.

Never deal with First Financial Bank.

Most of the time the first person you talk to is rather nice. You can explain the problem to them, they will look through your account history----because they note down everything you say to them and your history of conversation with them is there-----DON'T LET A COLLECTIONS AGENCY TELL YOU OTHERWISE! I know, because I used to work for one. So after you build up a good relationship with the first person, talk about options, and set up arrangements then they have to send you over to the "verifier".

The "verifer" job is to be an ass.

This is the person who wants you to explain everything that you talked to the first person for 20 minutes about again....and verify what you have said to the last 5000 other people. They always refuse to read through your history, and I sincerely believe that they are told to beat the person into the ground. I hang up on most of the verifers after I tell them that they are incredibly rude and have ruined any positive feelings that I had with working with their company. Maybe they are told to be rude, or they are just so hardened from doing collection work that they have forgotten how to be human.

Anyway, the cell rings today and it says "private call"....I have been answering those because when Mr.3 calls me that is what it shows up as. Unfortuately, it wasn't Mr.3....but it was First Financial Bank and I am almost positive that I have spoken to the same person before as a verifer. He had a distinctive voice. In less that 30 seconds he told me that my "behavior was unacceptable" and that "all of my income should be sent to them to pay my bill" and there was some other things that he added.....either way I told him that he had been incredibly rude and that I wasn't going to deal with him. I hung up at him as he was starting to yell at me....and I mean "yell" at me. There was no reason for him to yell at me, in fact I had hardly said anything to him besides, yes that is who I am and that I have no new information for him as I was in the process of getting a second job.

The thing about collections is that you need to collect money. I understand that, and I realize that I am a horrible debtor who hasn't made payments in a while. (Well I did make a payment to everyone last month, but was told that since it wasn't the minimum payment that it was worthless-yeah.....that felt great let me tell you.) However you can only really be "mean" in collections in the earlier stages, not the later stages that I am in. The later a person is in the collections process the higher the likelihood that they will declare bankruptcy and the company would have to write off all of that debt. When I worked for Discover card in 1997 they wrote off 2 billion dollars a year in debt from people declaring bankruptcy.

2 billion a year.

In the later collection stages it isn't a case where someone forgot a payment, there is a serious problem....you want to work with them so that you actually do get paid.

Every other company that I have credit with has been willing to work with me, except First Financial Bank, who makes me want to declare bankruptcy just to spite them.

And I want to spite them so badly.

Why yes.....

.....this is my brother....and yes....he is wearing my old tutu.

Isn't he cute?