Sunday, January 23, 2011

Bluebeard-And other fairytales that scare the crap of me

I watched this French movie called Bluebeard last night. It is based off of a historical fairytale of the same name....which just freaks me out. I think that this is one of those times when in being an American I am at a disadvantage with fairy tales. The tales that I grew up with always have a clear moral, a happy ending, and the scary bits? all within the realm of the imaginary. They have always been safe allegories removed from really happening in everyday life. This has probably been one of the reasons why I have been so slow to really get into Grimm's fairytales. I feel dissatisfied with them. They always end horribly and the moral is too subjective for me to get. Oddly enough, I haven't felt this way about 1,001 Arabian Nights, but the stories have more clear and logical endings for me.



Back to the story of Bluebeard. It follows that there was a powerful and rich lord, however for all of his wealth he wasn't regarded as handsome but disgustingly ugly as he had a beard that was blue. He was married many times but no one knew what became of the wives as they would disappear after about a year. A local woman with two daughters is recently widowed leaving her and her children completely destitute. Hearing this the rich lord Bluebeard invites the family to stay with him at one of his country houses for a week with the hope of enticing one of the girls to be his next bride. The youngest one accepts him and they wed.

In the movie, the youngest girl is prepubescent and there was a part of me that was horrified that I might have stumbled upon a movie that is going to have child rape in it. But there wasn't....so that was good. The girl was definitely older in maturity than in her years and sees something of value in Bluebeard when she accepts him as her groom. You start to really feel that he is just a poor misunderstood man, one that just needs one woman to genuinely love him. She doesn't ask questions about his past or the other wives, she just tries to get to know him and loves him unconditionally. And for those that know me and my past, you'll understand how I deeply identify with that.....and this probably won't be the first time that I say that in this post.

Bluebeard then has to leave for a while on business. Depending on which version you read, he's left her once before giving her all the keys of the house and telling her that she is welcome to see and look through everything. In any case, it doesn't really matter how many times he has left her alone with all the keys to the house.....it is the last time that is important. As he sets out to leave, he gives her the keys as before and then gives her one extra little golden key. He tells his wife that this key is to a small door in the basement and under no circumstances is she to open the door and look inside. Of course, she goes and opens the door at the first opportunity. Inside the floor is covered with blood and on the walls are hung the tortured bodies of his former wives. She is so upset by this she drops the key and it becomes covered in the blood. Bluebeard unexpectedly returns home saying that he received news that his business had been concluded while he was on the road. He asks for the keys to the house back. She returns all but the small golden key which she hasn't been able to get all the blood off of yet. In the end she returns it to him and he sees the blood. Knowing that she had gone into the forbidden room, he tells her that she must reenter it as well and die like the other women that he could not trust. Again there is some variation on the ending of this story, but the girl manages to stall, get help and have her husband killed. She then inherits everything and life ends well.

In the movie version and in the written versions that I researched last night after watching the film, the story focuses much more on the keys and the discovery of the bloody chamber than in how she escapes. In one version of the story the author noted the moral is that women should learn to guard their curiosity and completely and totally obey their husbands. My response to this is "Paa--leeze, what f-ing planet are you on?" There was another moral to the tale that I am just going to quote here directly:
Moral: Curiosity, in spite of its appeal, often leads to deep regret. To the displeasure of many a maiden, its enjoyment is short lived. Once satisfied, it ceases to exist, and always costs dearly.
Another moral: Apply logic to this grim story, and you will ascertain that it took place many years ago. No husband of our age would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife, nor would he be such a jealous malcontent. For, whatever the color of her husband's beard, the wife of today will let him know who the master is.

These morals also cause a bit of eye-rolling on my part. I think that there are plenty of modern references to similar stories. Let's look beyond the carnage of the past wives in the story. What do they represent? His string of victims, the women in his past that he has kept secret, his history of lies. Bluebeard has used his riches, his knowledge, his worldliness, his eccentricities to draw women to him. He then asks the impossible of them....he clearly sets them up to fail. To the outward observer the "rules" that he has set up in this game of his only make sense to him. Clearly, we are looking at the classic representation of a sociopath.

There is nothing wrong with curiosity. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know the truth about the person that you marry. For a local example of this story, look to the Lori Hacking case. Her husband lied to her about his past and what he was currently doing, when she learned the truth he killed her. This case happened shortly before the whole drama with my ex, and it is a story that I identify with deeply. I feel very very lucky that my version of the Bluebeard story did not turn out the same....and yet the fairytale still remains. Sinister and frightening. Used historically by men as a justification for violence against women; retold by women as a cautionary tale of what the worst could be. Makes sense to me why I was weirded out all last night and couldn't sleep very well.

In any case, it has started me re-looking at some of these more "non-kid-appropriate" fairytales. I have a co-worker who has an affinity for the Red Riding Hood tale as it is an example of a tale warning women of going off alone in the woods for what could happen to them. There is a South American tale warning women off of going off in the woods alone because they will be impregnated by an ogre. How is this any different then telling women that they will avoid being raped if they don't go out at night, or don't wear that short skirt? I recently reread a telling of the creation myth of Medusa. Did you know that she was raped by Poseidon in the temple of Athena....and Athena cursed her with the whole snake get-up as a punishment? Why are the women being punished in these stories? When I do awareness work on rape culture and victim blaming it is so easy to say that we don't really believe that the victim is at fault....and then again....look at all the stories that we have grown up with. It really feels like an impossible climb...and definitely something that cannot be conquered in one little blog post here. As I continue researching, I'll let you know what I learn.

In the meantime, beware of men with blue beards and cross-dressing wolves.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

I'm An Ancient Fertility Goddess!

Last year, Libby and I walked (because I did little running that day) in the Pride Festival 5K. We came in last, dead last. You can see the results online - which I looked up today. You can also see pictures of us walking in. And while I am not normally a photogenic person....this one is pretty bad. And yes, I am about to make fun of myself....it isn't because I have low self-esteem, it is because I have a good sense of humor.
Here is a photo of me looking HUGE:

Know what it looks like?


This.


The Venus of Willendorf, baby. I see this as even further proof that you should all worship me. Worship Me!!!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Psst....can I make a small request?

Just as a short plea to all of those who I have talked about my baby plans with.... please, please, PLEASE stop suggesting that I have some random hook-up with a stranger (or suggest that I proposition a co-worker to sleep with me) in order to get pregnant.

I know that you are all excited about my decision. I am too.
But, if I am going to do this, I need to do it in a rational and well-thought-out way.

I know that there are much cheaper ways of getting pregnant than going to a fertility clinic. But I really don't want a "baby daddy" situation. I want a father who is either completely and totally a part of this decision, a part of my life and in the life of my future child, or a father who is not there at all.

So I ask you all to just be patient. August is still the goal. I want to have the money for the procedure and my maternity leave saved up before I conceive. The time will go by faster then you think.

And if you are really adamant about me having a child in a more "traditional" manner....then set me up on a date with someone who is seeking a serious relationship rather than a random "hookup".

So there, that's my rant.
We're still cool right?

Monday, January 03, 2011

Resolution Time!

I've been trying to think of some resolutions for the new year because I'm lame and wish to follow the herd as much as possible. I had three resolutions last year, two of them I met. Those were to get a new job (check) and to progress to the intermediate level of piano (check, check). The only one not completed was to get some sort of gaming system. However, I got one for my parents for Christmas and after playing with their Wii, I really really want one of my own. So let's consider that resolution half finished....and one that I will hope to finish within the year.

Resolution One: Rather than the stereotypical "lose weight and exercise more" resolution that is so popular, I propose a twist on it. I wish to lose some financial weight, meaning that I resolve to pay off some bills this year. My medical bills are first on the list and I would like to tackle one of my student loans. In addition I would like to make some major headway on some of my financial goals such as creating an emergency fund and the saving that I have planned for a baby.

Resolution Two: To learn at least one new word a week, hopefully more than one a week, but at least one a week. I hope that most of these will come from resolution three. The word for this week is "simony" which is "the crime of paying for sacraments and consequently for holy offices or positions in the hierarchy of a church, it also extends to other forms of trafficking for money in "spiritual things". Oddly enough I was joking with someone about the buying of indulgences a couple of weeks ago, so it was interesting to learn about simony as well.

Resolution Three: To read the books that I have always meant to but did not find the time for. I've always been an over researcher. Whenever I hear a new theory, historical nugget, interesting story I always want to read it for myself. So when I watched a history channel documentary on the seven deadly sins, I wanted to read the references they gave in the show. Its my historian side going all sorts of primary document crazy. So with the bookstore gift card I got for Christmas I bought Dante's Inferno and the Apocrypha...among other things. So I will read them. I've already started on the Inferno. Hopefully I don't get too overwhelmed with all that I want to read.

Resolution Four: To say "mea culpa" to someone in a snarky and sarcastic tone and have that person understand what I mean. Saw it in a movie....and I definitely want to try it.

Resolution Five: To learn to do all that I need to do without making myself freak out at the prospect. I have some cool ideas for stuff I want to do at work. I want to do more with GV and other writing related projects. This is more of an ongoing project. Little bit by little bit I've been managing to get more done with less stress, and this is something that I want to work on more.

And that's m' list. Not as easily measurable as last years resolutions and most are a continuation of other work that I have undertaken in the last year or so of my life.... however I see the prognosis as good in completing these things.

If anything, I am sure that I will have a good story to blog on the "mea culpa" resolution.

Monday, December 20, 2010

A Sign That Your Work Is Creeping Into Your Personal Life

This last weekend little bro had a Halloween for Christmas party.
I prepared for this party by walking to his house so that I could drink as much as I wanted and still get home in the evening. As normal, I turn into a responsible adult at a party and try to take care of those more smashed than I. One of these folks was my brother's roommate....who turned 21 this weekend.

And as we all know, turning 21 means that you spend that entire weekend completely inebriated.

She had a friend/boyfriend/potential boyfriend/I'mnotexactlysure there. Nice boy, quite cute. She was throwing herself on him, telling him that they should go off to her room, etc., etc. I know that at least one other guy there would have taken her up on the offer (which was creepy), but not her guy. He kept telling her no, kept saying that she was too drunk. Which she was. And after a while of watching him turn her down and still taking care of her in her drunkenness, I walked over to him to thank him.

I thanked him for recognizing that she was too drunk to consent. I thanked him for not taking advantage of her. I thanked him for being a good guy.

First of all, thanking someone at a party for not being a rapist is weird. But this has become my new reality. He was really sweet...and blushed, mumbling something about how he wouldn't want her to be with him like that anyway, and how it wouldn't be any fun.... but let's be honest, what else could he say? I made an already awkward situation a rape prevention moment. Oh well, maybe if we thanked people for not taking advantage of someone, they might step in for someone else later when they see it happening. A bystander education moment? Maybe. Several people at that party learned alot about consent that night from this conversation. So that should be considered a good thing.....or a sign that I live and breathe my work too much. What do you think?

I've been a bit busy, how about you?

Wow....absolutely no blogging this month so far. That's really sad. In my defense I have had a super busy month so far.

I was battling a sickness, while taking care of a family friend who was sicker than me. I don't recommend this at all.

In something that I haven't really talked about on here at all, I was preparing for, took, and passed my examination to the second degree in co-masonry.

Plus, I had a party to go to for Job 3 and a party that I held at my house for UCASA. Lesson learned from this is that no matter how long I take to clear off the table, leaving gravy out for any extended period of time is not a good idea. One of these days I will pay more attention to dishes rather than trying to convince myself that not washing them is part of a grand scientific experiment.

Oh, and I decided....this morning actually.... that I am not going to take my birth control pills anymore. I keep forgetting to get the prescription filled anyway. I was planning on getting at least a month's filled for emergencies....and then I realized that that was super silly because I want to get pregnant, so why would I need the pills? Mindsets are really hard to change sometimes. I've been so used to being hyper-vigilant about unintended pregnancy that being ok with that situation is sort of a mind bender.

That's about it, I think. Although I am considering doing a bunch of top ten list for the end of the 2010 (top ten moments in my life, top ten biggest bonehead moves, that sort of thing). If you have any ideas for topics, please let me know. I'm going to do a top ten most influential sexual violence stories for work, which I will definitely link to here, but I haven't decided if I will cross post it here or not.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

5 Days of Hermitage

I have not left my house in 5 days, and it has been wonderful.
What won't be wonderful is having to clear off all of the snow from car tomorrow morning, but I guess that is a sacrifice that I will have to make since I've been able to be nice and warm in my house for so long.
I didn't intend to spend 5 days in my house, it just sorta happened. I had all of my grocery shopping done on Tuesday before the non-existant blizzard occurred. (As a quick aside, it was really unusual for everyone to preemptively freak out about a storm, but they did, and then nothing happened) I worked from home on Wednesday, which was an oddly productive day for me. Jimmy and I spent over 5 hours slaving over our Thanksgiving dinner. I refused to leave the house for any reason on Black Friday. I don't like to play into the over-consumerism of the season. And yeah....I was supposed to meet some friends for brunch today but we canceled because we all didn't want to go out into the snow.
I'm always saying to myself that if I only had some time at home doing nothing I would feel recharged. The problem in that last sentence is the "doing nothing" part. I think that is impossible for me to do. What I did manage was to get the Christmas decorations up, super clean the house, soap the hardwood floors in the living room, dining room, and the kitchen, completely revamp and sync my work email so I can access it from home easier and do a crapload of sudoku puzzles. I still need to do some odd little work tasks, finish the last couple Thanksgiving dinner dishes, and clean the bathroom....but that is no big deal. And with doing all of that.....I feel recharged.
Weird.
Now! On to one more Sudoku puzzle before I tackle the next item on my list!

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

How Flat Can A Tire Be?



It seems that for the past few years the colder months has brought with it a season of me never being able to keep air in my tires. One will go low, I'll fill it up, it will go low again, I'll fill it up, etc, etc, etc. Usually when it gets to a visit to the gas station once a day its a sign that I have to replace the tire.

Monday night was a bit different....but no less funny then the regular visits to the gas stations that offer free air hookups.....I probably know all of the stations in the downtown area that offer it for free actually. My car was having a hard time speeding up, and by the time I got to my driveway it was bouncing up and down so bad that you would have thought I had installed hydraulic shocks.

I parked. Went to look at the tires....which I hadn't been noticing a problem with air pressure-wise...and discovered that my front passenger side tire was flat. There was still some air left in the tire but it was definitely squishy to the touch.

So in a flash I jump back into my car and begin the drive to Big O tires on South Temple. Now while the drive was only a few short blocks, it was an eventful few blocks. So imagine me driving down a busy street in heavy rush hour traffic unable to go more than 20 miles an hour. The cars around me are honking trying to tell me that my tire is flat or honking and trying to swerve around me as I am causing a major disruption to traffic. It was the longest three minute drive ever. The car was shaking with each thwap thwap thwap as the flat tire rotated....just like in the cartoons. When I finally got to the tire store the tire was on the rim. I've seen flat tires before but the tire was so flat I was surprised the rubber was still on it. I also wouldn't have been surprised if there might have been a little sparking from the tire while I was driving.

Unfortunately they couldn't put a patch on the tire and I had to buy a new one. The rim wasn't damaged though, phew! They offered me a three-year protection plan on the tire which turned out to be half the cost of the tire. I passed....cause seriously....since I know that I will probably have to replace another tire next year I might as well save myself the cost now to apply to another tire later. Hopefully it will be only one tire this season. But if you see me riding down the street at a snail's pace with my car bouncing up and down, you'll know where I'm headed.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Giving Voice

In a comment left last night on an older post where I referenced some feelings that I had towards my ex-husband, it was stated from an anonymous poster:

“Having read a few other of your postings (older ones), I find myself wondering what the other side of the story is/was. It would seem from the lack of comment by him that his most serious sin is that of cowardliness. What would you do if he came forward I wonder?”

My response to this anonymous poster was the following:

“Well it has to be understood that the very basic nature of a blog means that there is going to be one side of the story. And there is really nothing I can do about that. Mr.3 is more than welcome to come forward, in fact he has commented on this blog numerous times, but never under his own name. He has other sins besides the cowardice you note in my post, Anonymous. He's emotionally hurt many people, and financially many more.”

10 minutes after the comment on the I Hate You post appeared, a second comment was published on another post of mine which was clearly from my ex-husband.

“This is quite an epiphany, I must say. Especially since the abuse at times went both ways...but we can't share that now can we, D? That would strip you of the right to play the victim. And you are and always were high maintenance. As for Anonymous's post, ask her why, if her 'Scott' was such an abuser, she didn't come forward to testify when 'he' was in jail in Florida? Ask her why she refused to be involved. Same was true with the ex-wife. It is too bad really - such a pity, as you always could have been and done so much more.”

Due to the short difference in time to these comment postings, the syntax, and the general context of the comment, it is my opinion that I believe the author of both comments to be the same individual.

My response to the comment on the post The Empowering Work Epiphany that I was NOT expecting was the following:

“Well, hi Mike. It's been a while since you have directly commented.

You have stated that the abuse went both ways. Why can't you bring it up? So far the only thing that you have accused me of is being "high maintenance". I don't believe that I am. Others who really care about me, unlike you who left, don't believe that I am. In fact, you know full well that being labeled "high maintenance" and a "victim" are terms that will emotionally hurt me. And they don't now when coming from you. So please, try to strip away the victim guise I supposedly wear so well.
As for your questions for the other Anonymous commenter on my blog....I am actually not sure which one of your past ladies she is, as there are many that have been hurt by you. Maybe those are questions you should ask her yourself.”

Much to my surprise, I did receive a response back.

Anonymous said...

D:

Perhaps in the past I would have been afraid to put my own name on a post, much like some of the other Anons here, but not anymore. For the better part of three years of knowing you, I was badgered, belittled, and held back by your sheer lack of motivation. How many classes did you fail on the way to a Masters? How seriously did you take your insulin-resistance diagnosis? If I ever took an authoritarian stance with you, it was to help you, not hurt you. But those details never come up, and that's too bad.

What also surprises me is that you don't mention to anyone here how much we fought, and how often I begged you to open your eyes and come with me to DC. You don't tell people about the conversations where I told you I couldn't stay with you in Salt Lake anymore because of your lack of drive and SLC's lack of opportunities. You only tell them what you want them to know so you can be the victim. Honestly it's really sad and I feel really sorry for you.

I would ask for your forgiveness for the things I did do wrong in the end, but lets face it, you won't ever give it because it would disallow your ability to feel victimized. As for me, I've moved on - past the cheating ex-wife who like to screw the UPS guy and then try to pass his kid off as mine, past Courtney who is Anon (get over it, won't you please?), past Kathy, the drunk, and past insane nicole-crystal-bella-whoeverthehellsheis and the kid who looks an awful lot like the guy she ran off to the desert with while I was left to work in Orange County. And most of all, past you, who four years later is still moaning and blaming me for all your woes.

Also, you might want to make sure you can back up every single comment you say on here. I am not above hiring an attorney to slap you with a libel suit should you keep this up. So you might want to find someone else to blame for everything in your life; something to think about. Oh, and by the way, my name is Scott.

Why am I re-posting these comments in a separate blog post? I take accusations against my character very seriously, and I have been accused of not telling all sides of the story. Unfortunately, the only side that I know fully is my own. By reposting my ex-husband’s comments, I am highlighting the voice he wishes to give.


I also wish to give a response to this latest comment, and I want it to be the last conversation about my ex-husband that happens on this blog. Too much time has been devoted to him and how he has made me feel.


Dear Ex-husband,

This is the first time that you have directly communicated with me since Christmas Day 2007. On that morning, you called me and told me that you had been released from the VA Mental Health Division and that you were returning home. You had said that you were taking the bus to the house and would call me when you got to our home. At the time, I was in Arizona visiting my parents. I waited for your call and it never came. That was the last time that you deigned to speak to me.


You have said that you felt “badgered, belittled, and held back by [my] sheer lack of motivation”. I accept that this is how you feel. I accept that this is how you view what happened. That is not how I remember things.


You asked “How many classes did you fail on the way to a Masters?” The answer is 2. And I didn’t quite fail them, I got a C in my Syntax class and I believe a D in a class on curriculum design. However, as the grades were low they could not be counted towards my masters and I had to retake them. My Syntax C happened at a time when you were in jail in Florida. I was emotionally upset by your incarceration. I will not deny that. I let my emotions interfere with my ability to do well in the class. I take all responsibility for that C. And when I retook the class, I received an A. The second class that I “failed” as you put it, was the following semester. You had come home for three weeks, gone to DC for some “job training” and then told me that you had lost the job and checked into the VA for evaluation. I was not allowed to see you. I was emotionally upset at the situation, at not understanding what was going on. Once again, I let my emotions interfere with my ability to do well in class. I recognized that I needed to take a year off from my studies so that I could get to the point where my emotions did not interfere with my academic work. I retook the class. I passed the class. I finished my Masters degree. The fact that I finished my degree I feel shows that I do have motivation to finish something. Also, my Masters degree and the journey that it took me on is not your responsibility. You were not there to hold my hand. You were not there at my graduation. My Masters degree has nothing to do with how our relationship ended.


You have also asked “How seriously did you take your insulin-resistance diagnosis?” Just briefly I would like to state that my medical diagnosis has nothing to do with how our relationship ended. I took the diagnosis very seriously. I changed my eating habits, lowered my cholesterol, lost weight, seek regular medical care in which I am told that I am in excellent health, ran a 5K…. I’ve even enrolled myself in a medical study to help doctors understand more about the body. You publicly accusing me of having a medical issue and finishing my Masters degree are merely tools that you are using to deflect my earlier question to you about what abusive acts I committed.


You have also stated that you are surprised that I never mentioned how we fought or how you begged me to go to DC. I never mentioned them, because we never had those conversations. We very very rarely fought….in fact I can’t remember having a verbal fight. I know that on a couple of occasions, I tried. But your response was that you refused to fight with me because people end up saying things that they don’t mean. So nothing was said. It just festered in the silence between us. I was more than willing to go to DC with you. More than willing to support you. In fact I financially supported you in that. I bought the bus ticket for you to go to DC. It cost half the rent money and because no job materialized and you took that opportunity to leave me then, I had to be the one to figure out a way of begging our landlord to not evict us. In a way, I wish that we had fought because it would have been some sort of communication between us. On this note, it can only be further said that it is your word against mine.


We can feel sorry for each other. I don’t see myself as a victim. I see myself as a survivor. This blog is more of a collection of my rants rather than a true representation of my daily life and daily thought process. I don't blame you for every little thing that goes wrong in my life. You honestly don't have that much control. There are many many things in my life that I don’t write about. One of those things is that I forgave you long ago. I don’t have the strength or the ability to waste the mental energy to still be mad at you. You have your own morality, beliefs, and ways of doing things and I have mine. I don’t want to spend time trying to figure out how you think or what your next move is. That’s seems like a game to me. And I am not going to play. I forgave you when I looked back at my life and realized that even though I have felt that I have been through hell and back, that I would not change a thing. The person that I am now, is so much stronger and self aware then I was before we met. I like the person I am now so much better. And if I had to get there through all of the heartache, then all I can do is thank you.


While it does feels a little bit like a threat to me…..you have reminded me that I need to be careful as to what I say here about you, what I can prove and not prove. I would ask you to do the same. I can prove your infidelity. I can prove your abandonment of me as grounds for the divorce. I can prove the fraudulent financial acts that you committed in my little brother’s name. I can prove many other things. I am not sure why you feel that it is necessary to lay out the “dirt” -so to speak- about the other women in your life on my blog. It sounds like you are still very angry with them. It is clear that you have physically moved on from these relationships. It is also clear that you have a history of relationships that can be categorized as “negative”. You’ve had a run of bad luck, and so have these other women.


I have heard (so its definitely heresay) that you are looking to reclaim your original name and your life. I suspect part of that journey is why you contacted me. If that is the truth then I wish you the best of luck. I believe that everyone should live their life honestly. You will have a lot to go through to regain your name and put it in good standing. You will have to admit to a lot of wrong and atone….. and probably rack up some nasty legal bills in the process to correct everything. If you truly have the strength of mind and character to do what needs to be done, then all I can do is to wish you well. If you can truly do this, then you will have proven me wrong.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Man With Van for Hire

I've probably been working on too many policies at work or been reading too many crimes novels lately, but yesterday when I was driving behind a white van that had a "Man with Van for Hire" sign on the back I kept trying to imagine what the service contract between the van driver and a serial killer would look like.

I'm guessing that there would definitely be a cleaning clause included. Such as "the signee agrees to place a tarp along the floor of the van to prevent damage to the vehicle. If in the case of any damage, the signee agrees to pay all cleaning costs". Of course, there would probably have to be a confidentiality clause of some sort....cause if I was a serial killer and hired a van, I would ask for that. It would read something like this:

It is understood and agreed to that the below identified discloser of confidential information may provide certain information that is and must be kept confidential. To ensure the protection of such information, and to preserve any confidentiality necessary under criminal and/or civil laws, it is agreed that

1. The Confidential Information to be disclosed can be described as and includes:

Victim identification, logistical information pertaining to location of body disposal and/or stalking grounds, weapons, methods of weapon use, lethality of all activities, the disposal of all miscellaneous evidence, any financial gain resulting from murderous activities, and current or future maiming plans and models, regardless of whether such information is designated as “Confidential Information” at the time of its disclosure or witnessing.

2. The Recipient agrees not to disclose the confidential information obtained from the discloser to anyone under threat of being labeled as an accomplice to the crime.

3. This Agreement states the entire agreement between the parties concerning the disclosure of Confidential Information. Any addition or modification to this Agreement must be made in writing and signed by the parties in their own blood.

4. If any of the provisions of this Agreement are found to be unenforceable, the remainder shall be enforced as fully as possible and the unenforceable provision(s) shall be deemed modified to the limited extent required to permit enforcement of the Agreement as a whole.

WHEREFORE, the parties acknowledge that they have read and understand this Agreement and voluntarily accept the duties and obligations set forth herein.


Hummmm..... I wonder if anyone has ever done that and used it in court. Might have to research that one a bit.

And now that you all think that I am a total psycho, I bid you a good night. :)

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Salvage

Yesterday I had a panic attack and mini-breakdown at work. Actually it was a series of panic attacks.....which lasted about an hour and a half.

What caused this you might say?
In a word......

TAXES

We recently switched from using an accountant to handle our accounts to doing it all in-house. Now if I mess up on some of the bookkeeping, it can be fixed. If I mess up on our taxes there are much heavier penalties. I was under the impression that our accountant would still be doing them....she was under the impression that I am perfectly capable of handling it. I am glad that someone had more confidence in me than I had.....but, I wasn't able to overcome my fears of messing up.

And so I cracked at work.

I have a wonderfully understanding boss, but this could have been avoided. I should have been able to say sooner that I was overloaded and not capable of doing it. I'm so stubborn though that I kept trying to do it myself until I imploded in my boss's office.

I'm a little embarrassed. Breaking down into tears makes me feel awful, horrifically weak, and incredibly unprofessional. I think that it is the professionalism aspect that is getting to me most. Ugh....I cried...in the office....I frickin' cried. How more negatively female could I have been in an office setting? Even though I am now in an environment where it is a bit more acceptable to be emotional, and even encouraged in a therapeutic sense, the old carry-overs of being dominated in my old office and being accused of not being mature enough to be competent because I let my emotions take over still linger. There is bitterness there (and for once it is not about the last MEC director there but other professors in my past who used it to their advantage).

What to do? How do I salvage what happened yesterday?
I can only hope that my co-workers don't feel like they need to tip-toe around me today. That will make the embarrassment much worse. For me, I think that the only other thing I can do is to work that much harder, get done what I need to do, and get my productivity levels back up. Let the automatron take over.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Adventure, Ample Breasts and WHAM! Amazing Gunfights!

Each week on my Nook, Barnes and Nobles offers a free book download. Whoever wrote this week's book must also write for those silly Saturday night Syfy channel zero star movies that you end up watching because there is absolutely nothing else on TV. This book has been hilarious. I'm only 80 pages in and the main character has been in no less than 5 gunfights. He's also been in New York, Florida, Mexico City and Guatemala in less than three days.

Here's the basic storyline (you'll have to imagine the added sound effects and arm movements that would be added if you were listening to me tell this story in person):

Ruggedly handsome and overly wealthy man is stuffed into a tux for yet another "society fundraiser". A strikingly beautiful woman (with "ample breasts") spots him from across the room and begins to walk towards him. But before she can get there WHAM! the waiters at the event aren't real waiters but professional killers who beat up Mister Ruggedly Handsome and kidnap the beautiful woman. She left behind a flag and an empty whiskey bottle. Mister Ruggedly Handsome, with his unlimited funds, decides to track down the source of the bottle (in the hopes of also rescuing the girl). His search takes him to Florida, but on his way to the airport..... WHAM! He is ambushed by an armored car with the same professional killer waiters from the night before. He manages to evade them.....causing minimal traffic congestion by the way.... and get to the airport to fly his own personal plane down to Florida.

He spent most of the flight in the back of his airplane with it flying on autopilot. Little troublesome there.

He arrives in Florida and of course the only way to get to this civil war battlefield (the source of the flag) is by airboat. And as they are skimming their way through the swamp WHAM! A second airboat accompanied with two jetskis start to chase him and shoot up the boat. After a game of chicken where the other airboat flips, allowing him to travel to the battlefield museum in question. While there he is confronted again by one of the men in the overturned boat. He escaped by BAYONETING the man with an exhibit from the museum.


The next leg of the journey takes him to a museum in Mexico City where he meets the extraordinarily hot curator. As they are flirting in a highbrow and academic sort of way.....WHAM! they are ambushed yet again by several gunmen. I don't remember exactly how they escaped....but that was because the gun fight was pretty similar to the one some Dan Brown novel I read and I had started to skim. Anyway, they escape and Mister Ruggedly Handsome accompanies Miss Hot Curator to a black tie function at the museum benefactor's house.

And....you'll never believe this one....the benefactor is none other than the man who has been hiring these henchmen to kill Mister Ruggedly Handsome in the first place. I know! I was just as surprised (*tap* *tap* is the sarcasm font still working?)!

Mister Ruggedly Handsome and Miss Hot Curator try to leave the party but then WHAM! they are pursued by four----count them---FOUR motorcyclists shooting at them. She surves and ones of them falls off the road. Mister Ruggedly Handsome finds a can of gasoline, tears off a bit of his shirt to make a wick, lights it, and creates a fireball that covers the road and takes out two more motorcyclists. One more motorcyclists rides through the wall of fire (I swear I've seen this somewhere before) but he is taken out by a bullet to his front wheel.

The pair then get a hotel room where Miss Hot Curator takes a shower and walks around holding her towel around her very very loosely. Eventually the towel comes off. I just wish that the author was as forthcoming with the sex scene details as he is with the gun fights.

Last I left the book they were driving through Guatemala being pursued by the local lawless bandits. I believe that the book might eventually have some sort of archaeology component and deal with some mystery surrounding the myth of the fountain of youth. Oh, did I mention that Mister Ruggedly Handsome was an archaeologist? I know....that was a bit of a surprise for me as well. (*Ugh, it hurts to type that with a straight face*) It will be interesting to see how many more gunfights they can fit in within the next 90 pages or so.

Thursday, October 07, 2010

I Knew It!

As I was waiting for the Comcast repairman---yet again--- this morning, I came to the realization that I have been reading other people's blogs a hell of a lot more than I have been writing in my own. And while it is a good thing that I am patronizing other people's blogs, I really need to be writing here....its my outlet. It is just strange that I have noticed this today, especially as Libby has been dropping hints about needing to spend my free time writing. Sometimes I am surprised at how well she knows me....and when those times that I need someone else to remind me to do what I like and what makes me happy.

This past week I have been trying to work Job 1 at home for a few hours a week. I am supposed to be writing the newsletter but when I am at the office, I am so focused on dealing whatever the immediate crisis is that I can't seem to focus on the writing that I need to do. Mostly the crises have been focuses on getting the accounting handled here....which has been going well. And after I discovered that setting up a tv tray next to the computer (which gives me more space to spread out my materials to work on) I really like writing on my home computer. It feels less transitory. I guess that has been some of the issues I've been facing with trying to have the most minimalist computer setup ever conceived.

So what have I been reading about? Mostly about Fat Acceptance. One thing that I am continually surprised at working at UCASA is that for things or ways of thinking that I have, there are actual terms for. For the most part, when someone is basically acting like a total jerk, they are exercising their "privilege". Even though I've been told that recognizing you have privilege is a good thing, we never seem to praise people for that....just condemn them when they act on their privilege in a way that negatively affects us. There might be a term for that....I just don't know what that is yet. When it comes to Fat Acceptance....all of that "I just want to feel healthy" and "I am happy with my size and I've come to terms with how I look and I still love myself" stuff that I have been spouting for years apparently has its own political movement. Who knew? I've got alot of reading to catch up on.

Getting back to this morning. I've been having some major issues with Comcast. The cable feed digitizes alot and the internet connectivity has been awful. For Job 3 I need to have constant internet connectivity and when the internet modem keeps going down every 20 minutes and then takes 20 minutes to come back....dear debbie here can not work. The problem has been only for the past 4 months or so....but it is really annoying. A couple of months ago I had a tech come out. He clearly didn't want to be working and was convinced that nothing was wrong. For this they charged me $30. I had to call for two months to get it taken off of my bill. Last month I just paid the $30 and then this month they finally got it off of my bill. This morning the tech seemed more disposed to talk to me. It could have been that I was giving him some very specific and targeted information.

Guess what he found? That someone had tampered with the cable line to split it and it was causing the interference. He didn't want to out right say that the guy upstairs was trying to steal my cable, but he did say that it was a pretty obvious case of tampering and interference. He also said that the lady upstairs should be having problems too.....which I clarified with her this morning. She's been calling Comcast to.....and they keep trying to tell her that it is a problem with her computer. All I can say about this is.....

I knew it!!!

It only took four months and god know how many calls.
I hope that this fixes the problem.
Please, please, please.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

It's Sorta Like Mixing Vodka and Gatorade

That is the only way I can describe my life at the moment..... vodka and gatorade.....which is a horrible combination. You get the feeling of being drunk coupled with being completely hydrated....which could be a good thing but your body just instinctively knows that something is wrong.

I feel super run-down, a bit high strung and yet....surprisingly healthy. Could it be the magic vitamins? I'm not sure. Could it be that the placement of the planet says that it is fall and yet it still is summer temperatures thus making everybody's natural biorhythms out of whack? Possibly. Or could it just be that I am badly badly in need of a vacation?

This is probably the most likely cause.

However, arranging for some time off is not going to be the easiest thing at this point as it would call for some major schedule pre-planning and pre-worked hours. And honestly.....working myself to death so that I can have a couple of vacation days in which I would totally crash isn't the wisest of decisions to make.

So anyone have any suggestions for mini-vacation ideas? Something hopefully that would take anywhere from 1 hour to 5 hours and make me feel like I had a vacation. There are only so many at-home face-masks and bubble baths a person can do....and I've hit my limit. Oh, and if you would like to join me on these excursions/activities....I love company.

Maybe if I can find a way to clear out my head my wit will return. *sniff sniff* I miss it so....why did it have to leave me? *sniff sniff sigh*

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The 100 Things

I keep falling out of the blogging loop....but there is stuff happening. Unfortunately thinking that I should blog about something doesn't make it magically appear on the site.

A few weeks ago, Libby sent me an article about a couple in Portland who pared their life down to just 100 things in their apartment. Now, I know that I can't do that.....however I am following the lead of Libby and her husband of a goal of getting rid of 100 things instead.

So I've started a list of things that I want to get rid of. Some of these items I plan on donating, some of them I plan to sell, like my wedding dress. I have already had some success on getting rid of things. My old computer desk I donated to work. And I sold back some books.....alot of books. Getting rid of 100 books is easy, so books only count as one item on the list. But I did make Mr.3's old Arabic books a separate category. I pulled over 200 books off my shelves to get rid off (my shelves still look like a bomb went off in them). Sam Weller's took over half of what I brought (including Mr.3's Arabic books) and gave me enough money for them to buy an e-reader. Cause let's face it.....I may be trying to lessen the amount of stuff that I have, but I am always going to have a weakness for books. I got a nook from Barnes and Nobles. It arrived in the mail yesterday and I was up way way way too late playing with it. I like it alot more then I thought that I would....in fact....I could be in love.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

So Obviously Not....

As an update to the PGJ situation, I have to report that there is no news. Nothing at all.
I emailed him a few days after our coffee, and I've heard nothing back.

So....he's obviously not into me.

And this pisses me off, but for probably not the reasons you are thinking. First of all, my actions on the night of the party.... I am completely ok with everything that happened. I wanted physical contact, I knew what I was doing, and I got what I wanted. The second part of all of this however, is the coffee. I gave him an "out" of the coffee date totally... and if he had said "no" to the coffee, I would have been disappointed, but I would have understood.

But we did go to coffee. And I'm pretty sure that now-after the fact- that my "really liking him" freak out session was my intuition telling me that this was a hopeless pursuit. He admitted that he was really "shit-faced" that evening, but then also made this big deal about how he didn't want to be seen as a "fuck them and chuck them" type of guy. I took this as a sign that he didn't want this to be just a one-night stand. I should have focused more on the "I was shit-faced that night" remark.

As a short aside on the "fuck them and chuck them" remark.... his terminology by the way... I had never heard the term before. This statement implies that I was actively pursued with the intent that sleeping with me and then never speaking to me again afterwards was the goal. This makes me a passive player in this situation.....and I definitely was not a passive partner in this. How dare he assume that he is the one with the power in the situation? How does he not know that that was not my intent? It wasn't....but....well....I hope that you get my point.

So I'm a bit ticked off at PGJ. I've at least in the past had the courtesy to let a one-night stand know afterwards that I didn't want to see him. Here....it's a situation that I ended up helping to ease his own feelings about being the "fuck n' chuck" type.....and then he went ahead and treated me in that manner anyhow.

Also, I'm having major troubles reconciling the fact that I feel that he's a nice guy and a hypocrite at the same time.

C'est la vie

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Today was a good day. An exhausting long day. But a very good day. Car is fixed and it only cost $137....and I think that I have found a mechanic for life.

So in order to celebrate, watch this.....it's so fricking cute it makes me want to scream.

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

The Wonderful Things that can Happen in a Pretty Bad Day

In an effort of trying to find the silver lining in every cloud, I am going to write about all the good things that happened in my very very bad day.

As my car was threatening to overheat on the ride home from piano yesterday I went to Jiffy Lube first thing this morning. They put coolant in the car and replaced the radiator cap that wasn't seeming to hold any pressure.

Bad Thing #1: As I was driving to the accountant's house, my car started to overheat and by the time I pulled into her driveway steam was billowing out of the front. I called Jiffy Lube and they said to come back and they would re-look at it. Good Thing #1: While at the accountant's house I learned how to use the accounting software and I was the one who processed payroll and ran all of the checks! It was very exciting in an awfully nerdy way. Good Thing #2: People will get paid today because of work that I did.

Good Thing #3: My car survived the ride back to town......but Bad Thing #2: the car started to overheat within sight of the Jiffy Lube. When I pulled up steam was coming out from under the hood and starting to fill into the car itself. My eyes were watering on top of all of the sweating from having the heater on to cool the engine in a car with one working window on a 98 degree day. Bad Thing #3: the guy at Jiffy Lube telling me that I either have a very cheap repair or a very expensive repair for my car that needs to have done at a mechanic's. Good Thing #4: My boss had the name of a mechanic that she trusts. Good Thing #5: My boss also talking me down from hysterics over my car and coming to pick me up. Good Thing #6: My boss taking me to lunch on the way back to the office. Good Thing #7: My car insurance completely paid for my car to be towed from Jiffy Lube to the mechanic's. Good Thing #8: My boss was willing to drive me back to Jiffy Lube to meet the tow truck. Bad Thing #4: The sight of my poor little car on the tow truck leaking out all of the coolant that Jiffy Lube had put into it. I sorta felt like PeeWee Herman when he has that dream in PeeWee's Big Adventure when his bike is totaled....and then they are wheeling it into the operating room....and then the doctor looks at the bike, shakes his head, then pulls off his mask only to show that he is a clown and .... well watch it yourself....

Good Thing #9: My boss drove me to my medical study workout session, and took the opportunity herself to go for an afternoon swim. Bad Thing #5: Being already hot and sweaty from dealing with the car and then getting even more hot and sweaty with working out is just nasty. Good Thing #10: Boss even picked me up from the workout session and drove me home. Good Thing #11: Shower. Bad Thing #6: Angry workout knees. Bad Thing #7: Some very hot and melty turtles when I got home. Good Thing #12: A cool bath perked them both right up and Zippy stopped sneezing (allergies again).

Let's tally up shall we? I've got 12 good things pitted against the 7 very bad things that happened today. I haven't heard from the mechanic yet, so that doesn't figure on our score sheet. And I am going to wait to see how the knees are in the morning before I decide to try and ride my bike to work tomorrow. Hopefully I have built up enough leg muscle to handle the trip.

See? I'm not all doom and gloom...big meany-faces in all their doubting...

Monday, August 16, 2010

Deconstructing my latest....well...thing

A friend of mine decided to set me up with a friend of his. I figured 'why the hell not' and met the guy at a party at his house two weeks ago. We talked some but a party isn't really a place to have deep conversations, however it IS the place to drink lots of alcohol and end up spending the night.
So needless to say, the physical chemistry is there.

The day after the party I sent PGJ a text message telling him that I hope that his hangover got better. We texted a bit back and forth about the evils of too much alcohol the next day. Tuesday morning, I sent him a text suggesting that if he wanted to take a break from the booze, how did he feel about coffee? And then asked him to join me for coffee later in the week. I didn't hear from him for almost 2 days. In that day or so of waiting, I went spiraling down some awful overly-dramatic middle-school-girl freakout train as to whether or not he liked me. I'm embarrassed to say that it even happened. I ended the emotional situation by texting him that I was a person who was not good with uncertainty and asked him to reply to the coffee message even if the answer was no. The answer was yes, that he had gotten busy at work and hadn't gotten a chance to reply. So everything was well.....but the ghost of the freakout lingered.....

Friday at 6pm, I met PGJ for coffee. While I was hopeful that I might be able to drag out the coffee to a longer evening, it turned out to be just coffee.
About halfway through coffee and conversation, I realized that I really really liked PGJ. When I had that realization everything became harder.....I felt like my flirting was forced. By the end of the evening I could feel the pressure of my wanting to let him know that I liked him, and felt like I completely blew the whole thing by only giving a hug. I did have to initiate the hug though.

So here is the issue. Liking PGJ makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. Anytime I feel that someone else might know my true feelings, I feel vulnerable. Me and vulnerable is a horrible combination. It leads to the overuse of watching sappy movies in order to have an excuse to cry and release all these emotions. It also leads to me pulling away and becoming an ice queen. I know that all this is due to my constant need to be in control.....because as long as I am in control I get hurt less. I hate that I have this sort of baggage. Before Mr.3 I could be as naive and trusting as anything....now I am so worried that someone is trying to hurt me. I worry that someone is trying to hurt me when I don't hear from them.....which is absolutely INSANE. Then again....I was controlled by Mr.3's silence for a long time.

Where does this leave me? It leaves me trying to constantly tell myself to take a chill pill. I met a wonderful man that I would like to get to know better. I met a man who I feel safe with....even in sleeping. I have never been able to sleep soundly while sharing a bed, and I did with him. I met a man that I have alot in common with......at least on the family and geek front....I've yet had the opportunity to question him on his Scifi likes.....hopefully I will get that chance soon.

I want him to be the one to ask me out next. I want the opportunity to go on a date with someone that might resemble normal. And I dearly dearly want to be able to date him without having any more of these emotional freakout lapses!

I'll let you know how it goes. If it does.

Wednesday, August 04, 2010

The Baby Decision and Other Momentous News

Stuff.
That is what going on, stuff.
Decisions, thoughts, and the occasional call to my mom that leaves her speechless.
That is what has been going on.....lots and lots of stuff.

I'll start with the news first. Prop 8 being ruled unconstitutional gives me much hope for my brother's future happiness. He's had more on an idea of what he wants for a wedding than I have ever had. One day, he will get that day under landscape arch.

Second on the news front. I haven't written very much on this blog of the horror what was the last 6-7 months of my employment at the MEC. Partly this is due to finding out that my former boss had printed out a page from my blog and supposedly was telling people that I was running a counterfeit id business.....and the fact that he was looking for strange and impossible means of firing me.... and he referred to me, my job, and the program it was under as an "abnormality that shouldn't have been allowed to survive". Well, for all of his changes, the new directions, and new programs that he was trying to implement, it apparently wasn't what the Department of Education wanted because he lost the grant that had funded the MEC for 50 years. I also find it funny that he apparently announced to the faculty (read the article comments) that the MEC had received the grant over a full week before the news that he didn't receive the money became public. Am I surprised? Not a bit. I feel bad for the staff and students at the center who have futures in jeopardy......do I feel bad for my old boss? Not in the slightest....in fact this has reaffirmed my belief in karmic payback.

Now on to the big news.....
It has become apparent that I need to re-evaluate some of my life plans. Oftentimes when I talk about having children I normally follow it with "its in the five year plan". The thing is, it has been in the five year plan for several years now.....and I keep pushing it back. It is sorta like the contractor in the movie "the Money Pit" saying that the work will be completed in two weeks and it takes like 10 times longer than that. I keep telling myself that I need to pay off all of my student loan debt before I have a child. To pay it all off will take me 8 years. 8 years! I'll be 39! When you add that to the fact that I am almost reduced to tears whenever I am around a small child the issue because much much worse. So instead of all this addition, I am doing some subtraction.

I plan to have a child within the next two years.

Research has started and the absolute earliest conception date would be November.....gotta start prenatal vitamins, you know. And well....there is alot of things that I am going to have to figure out. Money, daycare, sperm donation, there is alot....as I said it is in the research stage.

Here is what I do know.
*I have the space- if the worst happens and my parents need to move in with me, I'll share a room with the baby, if the best happens the baby will have a room all to his own.
*Unlike my brother, I never really knew what I wanted to do for my wedding, but I've had a birth plan decided on for ages. I even have names picked out: Evelyn if it is a girl, Owen if it is a boy. In fact, as I have had dreams for years that I have given birth to twins, I even have back up names: Eleanor and Eric (thanks Jimmy for the help on the last one).
*I've always loved kids, and have always wanted to be a mother. Not having this part of my life completed has caused me much heartache.
*There are still times when I can tell my Mom something that will leave her absolutely speechless.
* And while I may not be doing this in any traditional manner...I don't need to worry about having the support system of a spouse. I have family and friends who will be there willing to hold my hand. If I had any doubts, my little brother's reaction when I told him today was enough to wash those all away.

So, at the moment, it is only a decision. A happy one. One that have given me new focus. And it is a decision that can altered or changed along with life. But it is an important decision to have made.

Sunday, August 01, 2010

I Hate You

This has been a crazy week and a half of crazy weeks and a half.
I turned 31 yesterday and the week leading up to this event has been filled anxiety, anger, and depression. It isn't the getting a year older thing that is causing the problem, but more of a convergence of random other things happening. Alot of it has been focused around Mr.3 and the specter of him. And while I tell people that there will always be a small little part of me that loved him....the part that hates him gets much stronger everyday. Here's why....

I hate the fact that words like "sociopath", "abuser", and "wanted felon" have become normal words in my vocabulary.

I hate the fact that people like you are around other people in my life.

I hate the fact that I am reminded of you when I talk to other people about the people who are like you in their lives.

I hate the fact that even though I would like to be in a partnered and stable relationship with someone right now, I'm not because I don't want to start the dating process and run the risk of meeting another person like you.

I hate the fact that I don't have children yet, however, I am very grateful that I never gave birth to a child that shared your DNA.

I hate the fact that friends we had together have a hard time talking to me, because it is now awkward with the knowledge of all the bad that you did and how betrayed it made them feel.

I hate the fact that I have to work three jobs to pay my bills because I am an honorable person who wants to pay off my debt....as opposed to the weakling that you are.

I hate the fact that you continue to take advantage of people, even after they think that they finally have gotten rid of you.

I hate the fact that you are a bully.

I hate the fact that my little brother can no longer have any sort of financial right of passage because your ugly, lazy, and degenerate ass has been there before him.

I hate the fact that you are incapable of having your own life and therefore must steal the identity of others....like my brother, or your two nephews, or your brother....and the list goes on..

I hate the fact that out of all the sad birthday stories that I share with people, that I can't share the story about the birthday you ruined because it is the only one I can't find a joke to tell about it.

I hate the fact that their aren't adequate words in the English language to describe what true scum you are.

I hate the fact that even though I try to put you behind me and move on....you somehow still manage to resurface in some way and remind me that I really truly do hate you.

Monday, July 12, 2010

A Case of Mistaken Identity?

It kinda annoys me that you can send a message to someone on Facebook if they aren't your friend. Today I got a message from someone that I have never heard from or seen before. This is what the message said:

It is quite a nice pleasure meeting you,i looked at your picture and i was caught by beauty of your eyes,that really told me the calmness of your heart which i consider as the real beauty in a woman,that is the beauty of the heart.i would wish to know more about you and may be we get more closer,my name is xxxxx.I live in Jacksonville,Florida.Have a lovely day as i hope to hear from you.


Oh....what a lovely message. He was caught by the beauty of my eyes and the calmness of my heart.
There are several reasons why I think that his gentleman might be confused. One, I have never been to Jacksonville Florida. Two, I do look at grammar and punctuation in people that I choose to date or flirt online with. And three, and perhaps the best reasoning for his message to be a case of mistaken identity.... this has been my profile picture for over a month now.
I think that it screams calmness and beauty, don't you?

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Lessons Learned and Thank You's

Tomorrow I have my follow-up post-op with the surgeon about how I'm healing after gallbladder surgery. My belly button incision site still hasn't healed up, I've also managed to get a heat rash around my belly button at the same time.....but I think that the healing process has gone quite well. I was able to roll over without pain on Thursday, my stamina has increased, and I think that I will be able to return to running within the next week or so. I thought that this would also be as good as a time as any to go over some of the things that I have learned since being sick.

1. I am fairly confident in saying that my gallbladder hasn't been working properly for at least a year before the surgery. Eating without pain can never be underestimated....and if that means I need to take digestive pills with every meal for a while (or even for the rest of my life) it is totally worth it in order to be able to have a meal and feel fulfilled.

2. I miss pants. As the incision sites are on my waistline I haven't been able to wear pants for a couple of weeks now. Normally I am fine with skirts...but I also normally wear shorts underneath. As I can't deal with shorts at the moment, I have had to deal with sweaty thighs, and the worry of a sudden wind gust showing the world my undies. I wore a skirt the other day that sat on my waist...the combination of the sensitivity of the site and the hotness of the day created the current rash issue.

3. I've always known that I had an excellent support system, but seeing it in action is awe inspiring. Knowing that people care is one thing....having them prove it to you in a time of need is quite another. I have some oddly worded thank you's that I need to give.
To the GV fairies: Coming home from the hospital to see the flowers you sent reduced me to tears, thank you.
Linda: You have done so much for me over the years and I don't know if I will ever be able to truly tell you how much it has meant to me.
Ewa: Thank you for showing me that laughter is truly the best healer.
Agustina: Thank you for gelatto and dealing with my narcotic forgetfulness.
Jimmy: Thank you for keeping me company, getting me candy in my time of need, and holding my hand in the car during the aggressive driving session.
Dad: Thank you for braving hospital waiting rooms and the boredom that they provide in ample amounts.
Libby: Thank you for nagging me into making a doctor's appointment in the first place.
Karen and Kelly: Thank you for flowers and chocolate and for being EXTREMELY understanding for when I became horribly nauseous at lunch.
Alana: Thank you for making sure that even when bed ridden that someone was taking care of me, and for making me lay down at work when I needed to but wouldn't admit it.
And most importantly, thank you Mom for helping potty train me a second time, for yelling at the nurses when they needed it, for taking care of my every need for two and a half weeks, and for giggling with me in the multiple hospital rooms we visited.

4. Being this sick and out of commission for so long has been incredibly hard. Having to allow someone to take care of me, having to admit that I needed help, was so very deeply humbling. If the universe is trying to tell me anything, it is trying to tell me that I need to have patience with myself. Which is a difficult lesson for someone who is their own worst critic. I haven't had patience in giving myself the time and means to heal. Even though I have made strides in taking time for myself, I've also been shown that I haven't given myself enough time....there is so much more to do.

5. I am not really sure that I have a point five....but ending a list on 4. doesn't feel right for some reason. I guess I can say that I might have gotten over the need to hide the "embarassing" items in the shopping cart. We should all be proud that we are being proactive enough to take care of our own health....even if it means learning to buy yeast infection treatments, enemas, anti-gas pills, and laxative suppositories without shame.

Thursday, July 01, 2010

For Those of You Who Were Brave Enough to Read My Last Post

I would like to announce that the crisis has been handled.

I used the suppository this morning, which worked, but I might be permanently traumatized by the whole experience. The size and girth...oh dear. But happily my boss is also at home to potty discussions, and that has helped me immensely.

And I just managed a small BM at work that didn't kill me or anything. Whoohoo!

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

When the Dr Says to Take Stool Softeners, Take the Damn Softeners

I am just going to warn you up front, this might be a "Too Much Information" post for many people....but for those that talk to me everyday, you already know WWAAAYYY too well that I have no issues at all discussing my bowel movements, or lack of them.

After the surgery I was prescribed stool softeners because apparently the gross amount of narcotics that I have been taking have a tendency to constipate you. I took it the first day home, had a bowel movement and figured that since the thought of taking "stool softeners" made me feel like an octogenarian, I quit taking them.

I was oh, so very very wrong.

So I've become "constipated". Last night I tried a couple of times and only was able to produce small pellets. And it isn't that I don't need to go.....oh I do! It's all backing up....it is just....well....stuck. Literally.
Went back for day two at work and had Indian food for lunch. Predictably had to use the bathroom after and was in there for a half hour, because things were stuck---half-in, half-out. My boss even came into the bathroom to check on me thinking that I had fallen/collapsed/or something. From there I went home, and for the next hour and a half was in various bouts of agony as my system really really really wanted to go...and I was completely unable too.

I even went to the grocery store to purchase an...ahem...enema kit. Unlike the guy I teased about buying it a couple of weeks ago, I made no attempt at trying to mask my purchase. Got home, discovered that I am unable to get into the "preferred application postures" because of my stitches. When I finally was able to attempt something similar to the preferred application, my system wasn't able to take even a quarter of the liquid. There followed another agonizing half hour with little progress.

Got online and started researching other solutions, went back to the grocery store and purchased suppositories....yes, you read that right. When I got home however my system decided it was going to try again regardless of my exhaustion. Progress was made, but I think that what happened felt very close to what child birth must be like. And of course, it got stuck....and I had to (warning- highly gross!) had to take toilet paper and well.....pull. I wasn't able to get it all out, and I haven't tried the suppositories yet because I am so exhausted I can hardly stand...or sit. I am hoping to be back to normal soon, but I seriously fear the pain that might be ahead of me in this process.

So folks...the lesson for today is, when the doctor says to take the stool softeners, take the damn stool softeners!!

And yes, I have been taking the stool softeners religiously for the past few days.

In other news, I have new health insurance, and I am not sure how it will cope with the medical bills that are coming. I know that I have a $500 deductible that I will be paying soon....but I have my fingers crossed that the rest of the $27,000 gallbladder fun will be covered.

And my Mom left for Arizona today. She's been nursing me for two weeks now, and while I am glad that no one else had to witness today's "labor pains" I miss her terribly and have broken down into tears several times. Thanks Mom!!!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Gallbladder Saga

Yes, folks....the story of my gallbladder and its recent demise is an epic tale...definitely worthy of the title "saga". Let me thrill you with stories of various narcotic substances, angry nurses, a whole lot of lame daytime television, and of course...no saga could be complete without copious amounts of pus in unexpected places.

The beginning.
I have never had decent digestion. Just a fact of life. If I eat a fatty meal I will have gas pains that resemble a heart attack. On May 18th (yes, this has been happening for more than a month) I had a wonderful (and yet highly fatty meal) with a friend. The next day I was to go to a council on foreign relations meeting in which I would face my abusive ex-boss. My stomach was a wreck and I was convinced that I had had food poisoning and a panic attack at the same time. It took several days of a semi-liquid diet for my system to calm down and I would be able to eat normally. This happened several times over the course of the month. After roller derby on Sunday June 13th, I had had a regrettably high fat meal.....and from there on I was in agony. Except this time the pain could be localized to just under my right breast. I had been thinking that that was were my stomach was, but after looking it up on the internet I realized that the pain was somewhere behind my liver.

I was to go into the doctors on Monday morning for a blood test for something which I had thought was unrelated...and I managed to get ahold of the doctor before I went in to have her look at me and make sure that the blood tests taken would also look at my liver and pancreatic function. My bilirubin tested very high (which measures the amount of bile stuck in your system). She recommended that I have an unltrasound (scheduled for the next morning) and prescribed Loratab. The Loratab worked, a little, but I mainly had a Loratab hangover in addition to the gallbladder pains on Tuesday. Went back into the doctor on Wednesday as the ultrasound was positive for gallstones. I was advised that I needed a CT Scan (Thursday) and to schedule a consult with a surgeon to remove my gallbladder (scheduled for 2 weeks from now). The only problem with this system, is that I knew that I would not be able to survive the pain for that long. I felt pretty ignored by my doctor at this point.....but then again, she doesn't know me personally....she doesn't know that I only go to the doctor when I have a serious serious problem. And it was only when I got to the point of hysterics and threatened to just go the emergency room instead did I feel that they took me seriously. Well....sort of seriously...as they told me to be patient and prescribed stronger pain meds for me.

Dependence
If you know me, you know that I am stubbornly independent. And even though I had lots of friends and well wishers who were willing to help me out, I couldn't let myself really ask for help. When I managed to get home on Wednesday, I realized that I needed help. I shouldn't have been driving....and I haven't since then. I also didn't want people to see me.....because when I wasn't at the doctor's I was bedridden with the pain. My parents drove up on Thursday, and Jimmy and his friends took me to get my CT scan. Friday I couldn't take it anymore and went to the emergency room. Pretty much since then I have been dependent on my family or a variety of nurses to help me with the most menial of tasks. It has been incredibly humbling....but I am also very grateful that these amazing people in my life were willing to help me when I needed it.

Narcotics
When I got into the emergency room they gave me morphine. Now I am not sure how a normal person would want to take these drugs recreationally just because when they gave me morphine I felt normal for the first time in two weeks. That's how much pain I was in....morphine made me feel like my average everyday self. I'm currently on Percocet now that I am back from the hospital....so I have a low level of strung out-ness going on. But morphine was my drug of choice over the weekend. I am not sure if I want to know how he knows, but my brother told me the street value of some of the narcotics I currently have in my medicine cabinet. It is a little tempting.....but I will probably flush the leftovers.

Dirty, Dirty, Dirty
Before they managed to find a bed for me on Friday night in the hospital, I had to take a variety of blood and urine tests. My urine was the color of maple syrup....or as the ER nurse said when she thought that I was out of hearing range "dirty, dirty, dirty". For some reason the third "dirty" really irks me. Two "dirty"s I can understand, but three? Geez. The only good thing that has come from my strangely colored urine is that fact that I was finally taken seriously as to being sick. While I was in the hospital they gave me antibiotics through my IV, and this morning I took my last pill of it. Of course, antibiotics just ravage your system and I think that I have a full body case of thrush....so that has required another set of pills.

Reverse Potty Training
The nurses had to measure my pee. They had this thing they called "the hat" which was like a measuring cup that covered up half of the toilet bowl. Everytime I peed I had to leave it there until a nurse could note it in my chart and dump it. After my procedures all of my bodily functions became of importance....a nurse would say hello and then ask if I had farted yet this morning. After a while you revert back to being 3 and proudly come out of the bathroom announcing that you peed in the potty like a good girl. I was probably a bit too excited about my first bowel movement in over a week.

Nothing Happens on a Holiday Weekend
I talked with surgeons and nurses and doctors over the weekend, but they just kept me doped up and scheduled procedures for Monday and Tuesday. On Monday I had an ERCP, which stands for Endoscopic retrograde cholangiopancreatography. Basically what they had to do was stick a tube down my throat into my stomach and then into my small intestine. From there they go through the pancreas to the common bile duct between the gall bladder and the liver. Then this little basket thing comes out and they grab out all of the gallstones that are impacted. The doctor was expecting to find one stone, instead he found many....and alot of pus. You could tell that he was really worried about not only the amount of stones but the infection that they were trapping inside....guess whose antibiotics got doubled after that?

General Anesthesia- Double Take
After finding the pus in my bile duct, there was no question about having my gallbladder removed, which happened Tuesday morning. The surgical nurse came in just before 7am and told me that they were going to come and get me for surgery at 10am. Which meant that I had time for a short visit from Libby and a shower, right? Nope. For once they came early and I was rushed to the OR by 8am. The surgery was a success but I would never ever recommend that someone go under general anesthesia twice within a 24-hour period. As the nurses are trying to wake you up they are yelling in your ear, telling you to breathe deeper, etc....and then they seem to forget that you are there and start talking about their personal lives. The hospital folks kept telling me that gallbladder surgery was an outpatient deal.....they must be fucking crazy. I could not have done that on an out-patient basis. Granted I was more than ready to go home on Wednesday, but pain-wise I could have been in the hospital easily for another day.

The Giving of the Name
Jokingly before I found out how sick I really was, I decided to name my gallbladder and associated stones after my ex-boss and his minions. This was mainly due to the fact that I would like to say that he was thrown away in the hazardous materials wastebasket. The more I learned about this though, the naming seemed to have more meaning. One of the doctors told me that I should have been systematically sicker than the symptoms I was showing. He thought that I was really resilient...and just as that whole situation at the MEC folded out....I showed great resiliency in dealing with something that was making me emotionally and physically ill as well.

Scars
I look like I've been beaten up. My arms are all red and spotty from the eight gazillion times they had to take my blood pressure. I have a beautiful bruise that looks like a Rorschach diagram on my arm from where we accidentally tugged on the IV. And of course the healing scars from the laproscopic surgery. I have four holes in my abdomen. I've taken the dressing off of one, but the three on my waist are still there. I'm a little scared about the one on my belly button.....it freaks me out that they put a camera through there. The other issue with recovery is that I had no idea how much I use my abdominal muscles on a regular basis. I can get in and out of chairs fairly decently due to the huge increase of leg muscle that I have acquired since running.....leaning back or down is enough to paralyze me in pain.

Each day I am getting a little better. I would like to start up my normal routine on Monday, but I am not sure if I will be able to do that. The hardest part of this process is to find the patience in myself to allow me to heal.