And then I miss him again....

I had been waiting all day to see hear from him...and the one time that I am away from my desk, I miss his message. I was so upset I just broke down and cried at work...shutting my office door so that other wouldn't hear me...despite the 80 degree heat in my off because the air is broken.

2:01 PM Michael: are you online?

2:02 PM We get released on thursday. It will be 21 days of treatment not counting the 3 days of tests and evaluations

I got your vm and spent my whole session with the doctor today going over it

it was a difficult message, but I think i understsand what you need and what you mean, so i will happily arrange for myhoney to pick me up

2:03 PM I will try to gt online later and I will call you as well

I love you

xoxoxoxox

7 minutes

2:10 PM me: god dammit, I just barely missed you!!!!

I miss....

...burying my head in his chest, knowing that his arms will wrap around me, and for a moment the world and all of its worries are gone as I enjoy this time in a bubble of his scent- breathing.

....his weight on the opposite side of the bed-subconsciously knowing that he is there protecting me in life and in dreams...instead of me waking up in the middle of the night, lost and alone-searching.

.....hearing the sound of him shaving in the morning while I shower, knowing that when all is quiet that I can expect to open my eyes and see him peeking through the curtains at me-smiling.

......the normalcy of love and companionship-waiting.

See I Told You...

I told you that Mr.3 wouldn't come home yesterday. Even after all that he said yesterday on the gmail chat about being able to come home after his group session and that he would call me after his meeting to let me know what was happening. Well no call and no Mr.3. I guess that I am not surprised. He was going to come home any day, today, for 5 months last fall.

In some ways I have made progress. I have learned to let go of the responsibility of his PTSD. But that is partly because he will not let me be involved in the process. And according to the books that I have been reading, my repressed anger is turning into depression. Big surprise. I can't deal with my repressed anger however until I can have him around on a regular basis...so it is back to the status quo of me waiting...

and waiting....

and waiting.

Sad Sunday

It has come to my attention that once again...I have been married together with Mr.3 just as long as I have been married apart from Mr.3. It truly is depressing.

And in theory, Mr.3 is supposed to be released tomorrow. Although there has been nothing done about bringing in the family...just empty promises made to the patients about it. Supposedly something is going to be talked about in group about coming home....but again...I think that it is an empty promise.

I hate where I am right now. I hate being married in name only. I hate this uncertainty...I hate being told that I have to just deal with all of this. I hate having the burden of supporting everyone else but myself on my shoulders.

I bought myself a badly needed pair of tennis shoes this weekend....and all I could do is feel guilty for it. I finally got my hair re-permed after almost a year....and I felt guilty about it. And of course, everyone says that I deserve it and that I need to treat myself from time to time. Well fuck that! Why do I have to be the one to treat myself?! Why can't someone treat me for a change?! Why can't someone help me out with everything that gets dumped upon me?! Why do I have to be the one who is the silent and obedient support?!!

And yes, I am angry. And yes, I am frustrated. Mr.3 is supposed to come home this week....and I don't think that he will. Part of me feels that he will never come back....that I am again stuck in a neverending loop of only him getting help and him telling me that he will be home soon, be home soon. And that soon never happens. What is there to make me feel like this time will be any different? How am I not supposed to feel abandoned?

In any case, if he comes home this week I am ready for him. The house is clean, I finally went through all of the piles of junk mail and shredded what needed to be shredded and filed what needed to be filed, the laundry is done, the mattress is flipped, I even re-did the spice cabinet and inventoried everything with scary efficiency.

On the surface, everything looks like it is alright. But it isn't. I feel broken, hopeless and hollow.

The Call of Africa

I just finished watching the Constant Gardner, for the second time. I saw it several months ago--back when Mr.3 was gone the first time. I thought that it was a great movie, nice love story...all that jazz. This time it was very different. Again Mr.3 is gone...but now I have all of that reading about Africa under my belt. I find Africa heartbreaking and haunting. So much pain in so much beauty.

And the UN can't (or won't) do anything. Drop the food and hope that it gets to the right people. Evacuate as soon as something goes wrong....no effort to resolve anything. Or you could take the opposite view that nothing can be done in Africa, that it is a hopeless cause. Which, just the thought of is more horrible than the reality.

Useless Information that I think I need

So I found this link today to a collection of bios about all of the New York socialite scene. My first response was, "wow! this is great information, I should bookmark this!"

Then reality hit in.

When am I ever going to need to know who the whos who of New York is? I live in Utah for goodness sakes. And the one time that I was in New York, it was at the JFK airport...no one would help me figure out how to go from the International Terminal to the Domestic Terminal....I was incredibly sick with diarrhea from Typhoid exposure in Turkey...and I had to run outside of the airport with all of my luggage in the street from the International terminal to find the entrance to the other terminal. The closest I got to New York life was almost being hit by a taxi cab.

But I think that I am going to bookmark it anyway....just for shits and giggles.

Well being the Princess is still pretty ok.

You Are a Drama Princess (or Prince)

You're not over the top dramatic, but you have your moments. You know how to steal the spotlight... And how to act out to get your way. People around you know that you're good for a laugh. But at times, your drama gets a bit too much for everyone. Tone it down a tad, and you'll still be the center of attention.

Are You a Drama Queen (or King)?

Hummm...I don't know. What do you think?

Your Personality Profile

You are pure, moral, and adaptable. You tend to blend into your surroundings. Shy on the outside, you're outspoken to your friends. You believe that you live a virtuous life... And you tend to judge others with a harsh eye. As a result, people tend to crave your approval.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Listening for Scooter...

I did two great things this week...one, paid the rent (Hooray!) and two, gave 500 badly needed dollars to my parents. I also have the satisfaction of a completely full pantry (and a secret stash of girl scout cookies that my brother hasn't found yet). Tomorrow I am taking off from work and I am going to -finally- get my perm re-done. The straight hair grow out is only 8 inches long. I think that I have waited long enough.

I have given the turtles a bath and they are now running around the house. Or rather, Scooter is running around the house and Zippy...moved. It is a little easier to keep track of them now that we are in a house with hard wood floors because you can hear them clomping around. Although I am sure that they would rather be able to run around on carpet. I am also reminded of just how old and feeble Zippy is getting. Zippy has definitely hit his prime. The oldest that most box turtles get is to be 25 years old...and Zippy is pushing the 25 and beating all of the odds. When they were given to us over ten years ago....the previous owner did not keep them in the best of conditions (too wet) and most of Zippy's undershell is gone, it is bare bone on the carapace. The vet didn't think that he would live a couple of years with the shell like that...well 10 years later...he is still kicking...sort of.

After their bath I placed both of them in the living room on the rug. Scooter took off to explore and Zippy kinda hung out in the towel. After about an hour he poked his head out of the towel and it looked like he was watching television. (I know that the computer has fascinated Scooter when I have had it on and on the floor before---and of course if you are taking them in the car anywhere they like to look out the window.) Then Zippy kinda hoisted himself up, took the equivalent of feeble-old-man-steps for about three feet and then deposited himself in a corner to go back to sleep.

I wonder what a walker made for a turtle would look like?

An update: Zippy has woken up again and is watching my brother intently as he is drawing on the floor. And Scooter I think has himself stuck, wedged behind a bookcase (he isn't too good in reverse)....he is giving me that "Can you get up and help me?" look. One day he will realize that he just can't make himself flat to fit into places.

Or maybe he won't. Probably not.

Newroz (Kurdish)/Norouz (Persian)

Below is a reproduction of an article I did for work on Newroz, the holiday marking the beginning of Spring and the New Year for many Middle Eastern Cultures.

Norouz- Happy New Year!

Norouz is Persian for “New Day” and marks the New Year’s holiday for people in Iran, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan, Albania, India, Turkey, Zanzibar, various countries of Central Asia, and among ethnic Kurds. The holiday is also a holy day for those of the Zoroastrian and Baha’i faiths as well as some Sufi sects of Islam.
Rather than celebrating the New Year at the end of the calendar year, Norouz is celebrated on the first day of Spring, the vernal equinox, which occurs each year around March 21st. Traditions vary depending on the community for the celebration of Norouz, but we thought that we would share some of the more interesting ones here.

The Haft Sin-
One of the major Iranian traditions of Norouz is the setting of the Haft Sin- the seven ‘S’s, seven items starting with the letter S or sin in Persian. The seven items on the table symbolically correspond to the seven creations and the seven holy immortals protecting them. While some of the items on the table have changed, the symbolism remains the same. Common items (and their symbolism) found on a traditional Haft Sin table include:
-sabzeh- wheat, barley or lentil sprouts growing in a dish (rebirth)
-samanu- a sweet pudding made from wheat germ (affluence)
-senjed- the dried fruit of the oleaster tree (love)
-sir-garlic (medicine)
-sib- apples (beauty and health)
-somaq- sumac berries (the color of sunrise)
-serkeh- vinegar (age and patience)
-sonbol- the hyacinth flower (the coming of Spring)
-sekkeh- coins (prosperity and wealth)

Others items found could include: traditional Iranian pastries, lit candles (enlightenment and happiness), a mirror, painted eggs, a bowl with two goldfish (life, and the sign of Pisces which the sun is leaving), a bowl of water with an orange in it (the earth floating in space) and a holy book.

Hajji Firuz-
The traditional herald of the Norouz season is Hajji Firuz. He symbolizes the rebirth of the Sumerian god of sacrifice, Domuzi, who was killed at the end of each year and reborn at the beginning of the New Year. He uses face paint to make his skin black and wears a red costume. Then he sings and dances through the streets with a tambourine, spreading good cheer and announcing the coming of the New Year.


Chaharshanbe Suri-the Iranian Festival of Fire-
Celebrated on the last Wednesday before the New Year (Norouz), this festival is a celebration of the light (the good) winning over the darkness (the bad). The tradition includes people going into the streets and alleys to make fires, and then jumping over the fires to symbolize passing their bad health and luck from the past year to the fire in exchange for the good.
It is said that the living are visited at this time by the spirit of their ancestors on the last days of the year. Children often dress up in shrouds to re-enact these visits. They go from door to door to “visit” and ask for treats, very similar to Halloween in the West. There are also several other traditions on this night, including the rituals of Kuzeh Shekastan, the breaking of earthen jars which symbolically hold one’s bad fortune; the ritual of Fal-Gush, or inferring one's future from the conversations of those passing by; and the ritual of Gereh-gosha’i, making a knot in the corner of a handkerchief or garment and asking the first passerby to unravel it in order to remove one’s misfortune. Prior to the beginning of these celebrations, tradition holds for a through spring-cleaning of all homes in order to welcome in the New Year.

The Legend of Kawa the Blacksmith-
There are many stories that tell the tale of the beginning of the celebration of Norouz; one of the more famous myths surrounding the holiday is the Kurdish Legend of Kawa the Blacksmith.
Once upon a time there was an evil Assyrian king named Dehak. The king and his kingdom were cursed because of his wickedness. The sun refused to shine and it was impossible to grow any food. The king Dehak had the added curse of having two snakes attached to his shoulders. When the snakes were hungry he was in great pain, and the only thing that would satisfy the hunger of the snakes were the brains of children. So every day, two of the children from the local villages were killed and their brains fed to the snakes.
Kawa was the local blacksmith and hated the king, as 16 of his 17 children had been sacrificed for the King’s snakes. When he received word that his last child, a daughter, was to be killed he came up with a plan to save her. Instead of sacrificing his daughter, Kawa had sacrificed a sheep and had given the sheep’s brain to the King. The difference was not noticed. When others heard of Kawa’s trickery they all did the same; at night they would send their children up to the mountains with Kawa where they would be safe. The children flourished in the mountains and Kawa created an army from the children to end the evil king’s reign.
When their numbers were great enough, they came down from the mountains and stormed the castle. Kawa himself cast the fatal blow to the evil king, Dehak. To tell the news to the people of Mesopotamia he built a large bonfire, which lit up the sky and cleansed the air of the evilness of Dehak’s reign. That very morning, the sun began to shine again and the lands began to grow once more. This is the beginning of the “New Day” or Newroz as it is spelled in Kurdish.


Sources:
Wikipedia- http://en.wikipedia.org
The Circle of Ancient Iranian Studies- http://www.cais-soas.com
Kurdish Media- http://kurdishmedia.com

spring break day 1

I swear, I have spent most of today thinking that it was Tuesday.

Nothing really to report, but I feel compelled to blog...maybe I should go and do something productive, like read. Or not. I did manage to not only make dinner today (I made hamburgers!) but I also managed to finish the dishes before 24 came on.

Work was great today...the campus is sooo peaceful during Spring break. No students, isn't that the way it should always be?

Sunday Sunday

Quiet day today, even if I have been up since 5am. Talked to Mr.3 for a little bit this evening. I can't shake the feeling that he is avoiding me....just like I can't shake the feeling of being abandoned. It takes me awhile to process these calls. I am not sure if I handle them well. I live for them though.

I am aging rapidly. My skin is breaking out---quite frustrating to be dealing with acne at 27---and no matter how much I wash my face and how much moisturizer I put on, I still feel like my face is sagging. I am probably imagining it....or maybe I feel like I am aging so because rather than smiling I clench my teeth alot. I did that when Jimmy was in the hospital for his mental stuff. Rather than breaking down, I just clenched my jaw to stay focused for the rest of the family. My teeth suffered dearly for this...I had to get a crown because one of my teeth crumbled under the stress. And I know that I need to go back to the Dentist, my teeth are going to fall out at this rate. I wonder what the average age for getting dentures is? Although I am not sure that I want to raise children having to expand to them why mommy keeps her teeth in a glass next to her bedside.

I miss smiling. Mr.3 makes me smile.

My mom said something interesting tonight that struck me. I was telling her that I would feel so much better if only I could get confirmation that Mr.3 is where he says. She told me that during the times that he has been gone, I was happiest when he was in jail, because at least then...something was certain. Nothing is certain anymore.

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The Drag Show I Never Told You About

Sometime in January, I think, the Utah Pride Center held a small benefit for their youth group TINT. My brother has been going to the Center since he has moved up here and I think that it has been a wonderful experience for him. Each year they have a drag show called Vanity. What makes this show different than the ones that they hold every month, is that Vanity is the one time that parents and members of the community are allowed into the facility. Of course I took this opportunity...and I dragged Mr.3 along.

I got to meet some of Jimmy's friends (and love interests) and it was a good opportunity for me to donate money to the Center. Jimmy eats there alot and while their services are free, I still feel like I should contribute, if anything for the food that he eats there.

Whenever I talk about this show, I talk about how cute it was...the little draq-queens in waiting. Some of them were really good, some were horrible....but it is interesting to watch this transition, this process of these youth trying to find themselves.

The best performance by far was done by a young man named Tim. Dressed straight out of the 80's with matching tights, heels, and legwarmers he performed a remix of the song "I'm so excited". While the video below does not do justice to the energy in the room and how funny and original the performance was....you can still get a taste for it.

early, early morning

I wish that I could sleep through the night. Rather than what does happen. I go to bed at 10:30 because I am exhausted....but don't fall asleep until 11 or 11:30. And then I wake up between 4:30 and 5:00, still exhausted and confused as to why my body woke me up. I try to go back to sleep, which I manage to do until 6:30 when I normally get up to get ready for work...which for some reason is really super hard to get out of bed. The rest of the day I spend tired.

It is the weekend for goodness sakes, I found be able just to sleep and sleep and sleep.

After yesterday's post, Mr.3 called me for 11 minutes. We talked about his day, it felt like pulling teeth to get any information about his appointments and such....and very little about mine. Not that it was spectacular or anything, but I sorta wanted to tell him about the Zonta Club of Salt Lake Website that I am developing. Oh well. The site is definitely in its rough stages, but I am proud of the banner because I made it myself....even down to finding the pieces so that I could create the logo in the "approved" manner of Zonta International.

hu-blah...

Well I finally have a weekend off, and with no impeding deadlines I am not sure how to handle myself. I have been so tired lately that reading has been difficult--hard to get my eyes to stay focused. The past 2 days the phone calls that I have had from Mr.3 have been about 7 minutes long, with promises that they will be a second call that is longer. That call never comes.

I am frustrated. A married woman without a husband...or rather a married woman who is not allowed to see her husband, whether it is him or his doctors that have made that decision I don't know. If only he would call. It is hard not to feel abandoned.

I read alot about PTSD and coping with it and all of that fun stuff, I find new things every day...I am pretty sure that Mr.3 and I are not in a codependent relationship....if we were I would really be going off the wall. Everything says that this is something that has to be worked on together. And that this isn't something that I can control. Well that's great, like I have any control or any say.

I didn't call the VA and beat down doors to get us therapy, because Mr.3 wanted to be the responsible one to do it. And I let him take that role because I didn't want to be overbearing. The result....he is getting help somewhere and I have been completely pushed out of it. I understand that what has happened to him is his, and that there is nothing I can do to make it go away for him. However, what effects him, effects me...and I feel like I have been put into the put-up or shut-up position.

I have never criticized him for not being able to provide. Never. I felt that he beats himself up too much about it anyway...I didn't want to create more tension by letting my anger out. But I am angry, I am hurt. He was so busy worrying about the job that he lost, that he completely pulled away, and any help he could have given me was taken away. So the "paycheck" that we desperately needed....never came. I bit down on my pride, and gave him my trust to let him go and take this job.... that was a huge thing for me. I don't think that he really realizes that. And then he let a small mistake go to his head and he completely shut me out. Completely.

I can't trust my husband to fulfill the promises he has made to me. He gives me no support. And every time some crisis happens, I know that I can count on him to not be there. I know that I will not be able to count on him being there for holidays. I want to have children with him someday...but I plan for that knowing that he will not be there when I need him. When I think of our future....I look at the plans that we have made, and I know that I will always have to be the one bringing in the money. I will struggle all of my life to try to live the appearance of a comfortable existence.

I wasn't asking for the world, I was asking to be met half-way.

My problem is that I love him completely. That even through all of this loneliness and gloom, I still hold hope that we will be able to get past all of this. That one day we will be able to live a happy life that resembles normalcy.

And now, I am going to admit some fears that I haven't admitted to anyone. I believe that my husband pawned his wedding ring last year. He seems to treat it like it was just something trivial that he has misplaced. He doesn't seem too concerned about getting it back or getting it replaced. I feel like that is how he is treating me. I am a trivial object. I also think that he pawned my camera and the portable DVD player that we got as a christmas gift this last Christmas when he went to DC. Why? Because I just can't see his friend "loaning" him $200. I believe that even now he is still lying to me. And stupid me..I am always going to be gullible enough to believe him....and foolish enough to never leave him for it.

Can it be that his getting therapy is ruining our marriage? He has lied to me for so long, asked me to accept so much....and I can't even get confirmation that he is getting help like he says he is. When I talk to him, he tells me about how wonderful the treatment is, and how he is learning so much about himself. And he tells me that he is frustrated that I haven't been brought into this process yet....Big fucking deal...How is this not just more of him stringing me along?

And of course he will read this...and call me with that quiet little voice of his, trying to apologize. I can't take any more apologies because the words feel empty, rehearsed. I need action. I need him to be a man, I need him to show me that he really does care about me and about us and about our future.

I try to hide my feelings, my hurt. I have always had to be "the strong one" for everyone else. When do I get to break down? When do I get the luxury of having someone care for me? And no matter how much I want to break down and give in to my inner drama queen ...I know that I can't. I've got work and school, and Jimmy and my parents and my husband....all of those things that I have to care of.

I stupidly answered the phone earlier, it was a call from the bug. I have been invited to dinner at her house tomorrow and I don't know how to get out of it. I can't think of any way to do it and not leave someone with hurt feelings. While Wendy and Hamida are going to be there, two people I like and feel comfortable with....I can't shake the feeling that this is an attempt on the bug's part to finally find out all of the gossip. And of course, if I tell her that I can't go because of emotional reasons...she will just push more and more and more. I can't trust her anyway. I can't find a way out of this.

To make it all worse, I don't even know what to tell people anymore anyway. To some extent, people haven't been asking about Mr.3....maybe they are all worried that I will crack and they will be flooded with a situation that they really didn't want to hear about. Maybe no one asks anymore because I just don't leave my office. I work and work and work...and hope that people can leave it at that.

I guess that if I have to accept all that I do, that they should be able to do the same.

And I wish that I could tell this to someone and have it matter, rather than just pouring my heart out to a keyboard. But why go to some therapist who is just going to tell me to run away? I don't want to run away. I want to make this work. I want to be able to be given the chance to make this work. Just to be given the chance. I am not even asking to be met half-way anymore, because that was too much. Just a chance, a toehold in the door...something, anything.....please.

My Brother is the one to blame for getting this stuck in my head.

You Are A Good Friend

You're always willing to listen Or lend a shoulder to cry on You're there through thick and thin Many people consider you their "best friend"!

What Kind of Friend Are You?

You Are Olive Green

You are the most real of all the green shades. You're always true to yourself. For you, authenticity and honesty are very important... both in others and yourself. You are grounded and secure. It takes a lot to shake you. People see you as dependable, probably the most dependable person they know.

What Color Green Are You?

oh so busy....

I feel like I have hardly been at home lately....and the smelly dishes in the sink confirm it.

Midterms this week....I think that I passed them, but probably not with flying colors.

I finally went to a Zonta meeting again. It has been forever. We had a speaker last night that was pretty good, she was one of the co-authors of God's Brothel, a book about escaping Mormon polygamy. She only spoke for 20 minutes and then 10 minutes of questions....definitely not enough time. I think that I am going to try to arrange some volunteer hours with her organization, Tapestry Against Polygamy. It seems like they are doing some fantastic work. And of course, every time I go to Zonta I want to be more involved...I just think that my personal life has lead to some distractions. They want me to update their website, and I think that we should definitely create a google group for them.

News on the Mr.3 front. Therapy has been going very very well. He says that he is making alot of progress. And they are allowing him more access to things like the internet. They let him chat online with me for a half hour yesterday....and a phone call. It was really nice. Not as nice as it would be to have him home, but sometimes you just have to take what you can get. One day someone will allow me to be a part of this process...until that time I guess I get to mine reserves from my finite amount of patience.

Anyway, should pretend to work at the moment. Hopefully the next podcast for work will be approved today and i can get it up on our website.

Spring Frustrations

The weather is beautiful today and I would love to be walking around the neighborhood with Mr.3 at the moment. And as I have been craving grilled cheese sandwiches...I also wish that he was hear to make me one of his clog-your-arteries grilled cheese sandwiches right now. And a hug. That would be nice.

I left work frustrated today. I am in this constant struggle to get my boss to be happy with my job performance and I am just not feeling it today. I have learned that you need to work on her schedule....if she is working on something, you better be too...or you will just get frustrated. But even though she is predictable it is the unpredictable that I can't handle. All last week and the week before as well...she told me not to worry about the podcasts....don't deal with it, we don't have time, she said. Well now this week...as I feel like I am scrambling to finish what I couldn't get done last week because we were working on her schedule...she wants the podcasts done....NOW. It really isn't that much, and it is partly spring fever hitting me and latent stress....but I am feeling it today. I want her to be proud of me, but I can't tell at the moment if I am letting her down, me down, or just plain over-reacting.

Heavy Breathers

Just barely made the elevator after class in the library today. When I ran in there were 3 people already in there. The two women in the elevator were on opposite ends with a guy in the middle. All throughout the 1 minute ride I could only hear the women....

breathing.....

heavy
slow
raspy
congested breaths

One would breathe....then the over....

It was creepy. All I could do was hold my breath and wait for the ride to end.

conversations

the past two days I have been able to talk to Mr.3 a little bit more. Yesterday for a full half hour! It was nice, we just prattled on to the other about nothing in particular just to hear the other one speak. And i just got off of a short phone call with him now.

An update on that grad student, 2 cracked ribs....and he has been removed from the unit. There are 14 other people in this program, and only one of them is from Vietnam. Mr.3 likes this because there are more guys there who are closer in age to him and have been through similar things. Apparently all of them are having to deal with not being able to see their families...Mr.3 just hopes that they are trying to baseline everyone to see when they are ready for that next step. He has an appointment with the female doctor today and is hoping to hear good news. He has, after all, been in this program for 7 days and there is only 2 weeks left. They should start bringing in family soon anyway.

I finished "In the Company of Heroes" yesterday, it was really good, and I cried throughout the ending. Mr.3 told the guys in his group that I had been doing a lot of reading to try to understand more of what he went through and they were quite impressed. I am going to read Black Hawk Down after I finish "Shake Hands with the Devil". It was written by the UN General that was stationed in Rwanda during the genocide. He has had a long battle with PTSD as well, so I hope that I find it somewhat enlightening.

Other than that, I am super ticked off because of daylight savings...I didn't have that much energy to be sapped of to being with.

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?