Yo Ho, Yo Ho, No Pirate Patch for Me

Holy Health Scare Batman!  So here's the whole shebang in a nutshell.  I was seeing a flash.  Actually it was more like a glowing blob that would appear in my vision for about half a second and then be gone.  It had been happening for months but it seemed to be getting more frequent so I went to the eye doctor.  He said everything looked fine but had me come back in two weeks for a recheck.  I went back and to be on the safe side he referred me to a retina specialist.  "You'll be the youngest one there by 30 years." he said.  "they'll check you out and laugh and say I was crazy for referring you," he said.  "Well this will be a grand waste of time," I thought.  But I went.  I WAS the youngest person there and the triage portion was long and boring.  I had the pleasure of being snapped at by a nurse with RBF big time.  (That's Resting Bitch Face for those of you who don't know.)  Come to find out throughout the visit that it wasn't just RBF.  She was just a bitch.  Anyway, I finally got in to see the doctor.  He looked in my eye and blinded me with a bunch of shiny things.  I was fully prepared for the "I don't know why he sent you here.  You are fine."  I waited to hear those words when he reclined me and began poking and prodding at my eye.  I waited to hear those words when he said, "Give me a moment to make some notes and then we'll chat."  I waited to hear those words as he made scribbles and marks on the eye diagram on his computer.  I was still waiting to hear those words as he began to "chat" with me about my RETINAL DETACHMENT!!!   What?!?!?!  Did I just say retinal detachment?  Yes I did!  He started with that and then went on but all I heard was "wah, wah, wah wah wah wah."  All of a sudden he was Charlie Brown's teacher.  He said something about gel in the back of my eye and something about being prone to tears and something about a tear and a hole and surgery.  My mouth was hanging open.  My husband's mouth was hanging open.  When he realized I was in shock, he slowed down and explained my treatment options.  There were three.  Number one:  Do nothing which he said wasn't really an option.  Number two:  Have laser surgery to forma scar around the tear/hole to prevent it from expanding.  This option does not stop the flashes but may prevent them from getting larger and more intrusive in my vision.  Number three:  Have traditional cutting surgery.  It involves anesthesia and a band around your eye and then "wah, wah, wah wah wah wah."  Risks include bleeding, infection, and a bunch of other things.  "Ok," I'm thinking, "I really need to do some research and thinking about which I want to do."  No such luck!  The doctor slams me into a state of shock again with the news that the laser surgery would be done today and the traditional surgery would be done the day after tomorrow.  Well there goes the research and the thinking.  He ushers us into another room to decide and I want to burst into tears.  My hubs who thought he would be back to work in an hour quickly cleared his meeting schedule.  While he was doing that, I was left to decide my fate.  The laser would be quick but not painless.  The surgery was more invasive but may fix the flashes and they would knock me out for it.  I had no idea what to do.  My only bright spot (pun intended) was maybe I'd get a pirate-style eye patch to wear home.  That intrigue was short lived as I imagined the laser zapping my vision away if I accidently looked in the wrong spot.  I thought of the recovery period after the traditional surgery and wondered if they put stitches in your eye.  There was no one to answer any of my questions.  Everybody acted as though there was no decision to make.  I ended up opting for the laser surgery which was scary as hell.  It felt like I was getting a tattoo on my eyeball.  Like someone was snapping the inside of my eye with a rubber band repeatedly.  They finished the first portion and put me in the waiting room with juice and crackers to recover a bit.  After about an hour, it was time for round two.  My eyes were tired and uncooperative but the cod managed to do what he needed to do.  Once I could see again, we made our way home.  My eyeball was sore from all the drops and poking and prodding and zapping.  It felt swollen and it ached.  I now know what to look for as signs of retinal detachment but am totally paranoid about every little light or shadow I see.  Eventually I'll get back to normal but knowing I am more vulnerable to going blind in the future - well, I kind of sucks.  The most disappointing part was I didn't even get an eye patch.  Ahoy, no pirate look for me matey.  Arrrrr!!!

***If you see flashes, floaters, shadows, or black spots, please see your eye doctor right away***

Involuntary Nastics at the Gym

Well it finally happened.  I dreaded it.  I tried to avoid it.  I even had nightmares about it.  I actually fell off the treadmill at my gym.  It happened simply enough.  My phone was in the holder on the machine.  I hit a button and went to move my hand back and caught the wire of the ear buds.  My phone tumbled to the running belt.  Of course, my instincts kick in and I try to grab it but since I am incapable of doing two things at once, my feet stopped walking.  Within a half a second, I realized I needed to keep walking but it was too late.  By that point I was flailing with one arm and holding onto the side of the machine with the other.  I let go of the side, stopped flailing, and just let myself be ejected off the back of the machine.  I must have kicked my phone at some point because it was still on the treadmill and was ejected after me.  The entire time I was thinking "I can't believe this is happening."  Luckily, or was it by divine intervention, I was able to stick the landing.  I managed not to fall on my ass.  My niece would have been proud of my "nastics" moves but I highly doubted anyone else in the gym would be appreciative of them.  I looked around and saw everyone in the gym, ears plugged with ear buds, continuing on with their workouts.  Even the folks at the desk didn't seem to notice.  I was grateful for this but also a bit unnerved.  I just wiped out on the treadmill in grand fashion and nobody noticed.  What if I had been really hurt?  Would someone have come to my aid?  I was in the back so I guess that helped my anonymity.  Still.  I could have used a "poor baby."  And as for not hurting myself, that train quickly left the station.  I finished my workout but my arm was hurting a bit.  As the evening went on, I became more sore in the realm of my right arm.  Today, it hurts to type this and I can't lift my right arm without the fear of vomiting in pain.  It'll be a trip to the urgent care tonight for me.  Is it sad that I know the x-ray guy at the urgent care by name?  And it's January so that means deductible time.  So I'll be paying full price for my exam and x-rays.  It'll cost more than the year long membership at my gym.  So if I had never gone to the gym, I'd have my membership money, my x-ray money, and not be in constant pain?  Sounds like the gym is the problem here.  Or is it just my lack of coordination.  Either way if I hadn't gone to the gym, like ever, I'd be a lot richer and a lot healthier.  That doesn't quite seem right.  But what's done is done and what's injured is injured.  At least I don't have to come up with a disguise to go back to the gym.  But I will be forever haunted by the idea that somewhere out there in interwebland there may be surveillance camera evidence of my treadmill dance with death.

My Office is for Pooping -or- Psychiatrist Wanted: Must Love Babies

Today sucks.  Yup.  I said it.  Today sucks.  It completely blows.  I am just sitting here wallowing in self pity and I don't care who knows.  I don't give a rat's ass.  Why does today of all days suck.  Because.  My Gram died two weeks ago and I still haven't really accepted that, yesterday I found out that my psychiatrist of ten years will no longer be accepting my insurance in a month, a person who is supposed to remain impartial has proved to be totally and completely biased in my book, and my dogs pooped in the office.  That last one is nothing new.  They poop in the office on a daily basis.  They think its their own person toilet.  I included that one because having poop in your house that you have to clean up just kind of sums up my day.  Oh, and we are apparently aren't going to see hide nor hair of a snowflake in the exciting Snowmaggedon of 2016.  I wanted to stay tucked into my house as the snow fell down all around me sipping coffee and being productive.  Instead I sit here with my eyes closed willing the world away.  (Yes, I know I have depression.)  I called the Hubs to tell him how upset I was about some of the days events and . . . nothing.  No "awwww."  No "poor baby."  Nothing.  That only added to my depression du jour.  I want snow damn it!  I have the weather channel on and they are talking all about snow in terms of feet, power outages, driving restrictions, and here - nothing but melting.  It sucks.  The only good thing about today is that I get to meet one of my bestie's offspring tomorrow.  Hopefully this gloom and funk will be over by then but if not, I will hold that baby and sniff her head (Babies smell awesome.  The head end that is.  Not the other end) and experience a moment of pure peace.  Because even if just for that moment, that little baby needs me.  That may be it.  I may just want to feel needed.  The Kid (who is about to graduate from university) informed me that that's why they give people in nursing homes with diminished cognitive capacity baby dolls to care for.  It gives them purpose.  A reason for being.  A connection to the universe.  Maybe I need to dig out my old 80's Cabbage Patch Dolls and carry them around.  I wonder if that would make me feel any better.  I also wonder if I will end up back in the "special unit" on the fifth floor.  Walking around with a doll all day.  But if I go to the "special unit" I will get a referral to a new psych doc and an appointment without the normal waiting time.  There, two birds with one stone.  Now all I've got to do is keep the momentum going.

Sandy Toes, Salty Kisses, and Butt Support of the American Revolution

I suck.  I suck, I suck, I suck.  I really want to be better at this blogging regularly but blogging occasionally is a hell of a lot better than not blogging at all.  Funny, I feel the same way about exercising as I do about blogging.  I think about it a lot, but don't actually get around to it a lot.  I saw something online today that said "I am fat because a tiny body couldn't hold all this awesomeness."  I feel this way about 50% of the time.  The other 50% of the time I wonder if chairs will hold me and if I will fit through certain places.  This was especially true on our recent vacation to Virginia Beach and Colonial Williamsburg.  The day we arrived I felt tremendously self-conscious and we didn't even put our swim suits on.  Day two I warmed up to the beach and stopped worrying about what I looked like and enjoyed myself.  I'm not very happy that there are pictures to prove this beach vacation but whatever.  When we left the beach and headed to Colonial Williamsburg, I thought I was in the clear - no such luck.  I forgot about one thing - the dreaded Colonial chair.  Not only did many of the Colonial doors into the Colonial buildings open in the middle only giving you half the Colonial doorway to squeeze through, but there were these chairs - Colonial chairs - that are historically accurate to the Colonial time period in material and construction.  Apparently, I am not historically accurate to the Colonial time period because these suckers hurt.  They were about half the size of my butt with knobs that poked in some not-so-comfortable places.  And that was just the design.  The materials used to make said chairs would creak and snap and basically make you feel like its the soundtrack to your ass falling on the Colonial floor.  But I survived and promised myself that I would get back in the gym as soon as the patella femoral tendonitis I had was healed.  That and as soon as the gym we joined was back in business after THE TORNADO!  That's right!  We joined a gym down the street and within a month I had hurt myself and shortly thereafter the gym was hit by an EF1 tornado.  Luckily, we were not there.  Even though it was our usual day and time to go, we didn't.  But I'm thinking there's no way more direct for God to say be happy with who you are first and if you then still want to change yourself - all the better - than with 100mph rotating winds.  So as the gym heals and I heal, I tried to take stock of my self-worth and self-esteem and realize that I am fine.  I like me.  No, I love me.  And I want to slowly but surely improve me - for my health and my family, not for vanity or appearances.  And if I ever find a time machine or develop a means for time travel, I will omit the Colonial period as a destination option. 

If Only I was You're-a-peein'

I was pondering what to write as a blog entry today.  Numerous ideas crossed my mind such as my latest tangle with my local pharmacy ("No I will not pay you $322 because you keep pushing the wrong button") but I settled on a topic that I'm sure we are all interested in - the bidet.

WARNING: This blog post contains juvenile wording for natural human processes and parts.  If this will offend you, please stop reading here.  If you're ok with words like pooh and tinkle, please proceed but comments saying how offended you are will not be tolerated.  You've been warned.

I don't know how it came up.  I think we were watching an episode of House Hunters on HGTV and the house the people were looking at had a bidet.  The potential occupants were surprised and in their uncomfortable way made some borderline inappropriate jokes.  But my daughter asked why they had two toilets.  I responded that one was a bidet.  She had no idea what that was so I explained to her that you use it after the toilet and it shoots water on your lady bits to clean you and then blow dries your private zone.  I explained that they are very popular in Europe but nobody uses them in the United States and I got to thinking - why not?  Why are we as Americans not blessed with possibly one of the greatest forms of hygenic cleansing ever invented?  I mean, what are we afraid of?  A little water?  A little air flow?  We pride ourselves in having technology out the whazoo but when it comes to our whazoo we skimp.  I did however have three questions for my European followers who are veteran bidet users.  First off, does water do the job?  I mean the full job.  Let's face it. We've all had those moments where we need to use more toilet paper than an overzealous three year old.  Does the stream of water have some force behind it to force our behind into clean territory?  Second, same question basically but this time it involves the dryer.  Do you end up feeling like you just sat in a puddle?  And latestly, how does one get from the toilet to the bidet without making a mess or leaving a trail?  I mean they are typically positioned close to each other but not THAT close.  Now, given that I have zero patience to wait for my European friends to comment.  I did what any normal American does when they don't know anything about something.  They Google it.  This is where I discovered the Swash 1000 Bidet Toilet Seat.  With an installation time of less than 20 minutes, you too can feel as though you are poohing abroad.  The review was good (Well I guess it was good.  I don't read many bidet reviews so I don't have a standard against which to measure this one.)  It even answered some of my questions.  Yes, the water does the job.  Yes, you still may need a minimal amount of toilet paper.  And with this particular model, there is no messy transfer from seat to seat.  Its an all in one deal.  It even has a smell elimination feature!  The only real downside is that you will hate poohing anywhere else once you've experience it.  You will become one spoiled tinkler.  But I say, bring it on.  Look out toilet paper industry.  Here comes the Swash 1000.  It will put you out of business.  Maybe that's it.  Maybe the supression of the bidet has been formulated by the toilet paper industry to protect their profits.  Like a toilet paper mafia!  See - good things come from waching cable TV and frequent Googling.  Without these, I never could have warned you about the toilet paper mafia.  Feel free to leave your thanks in the comments and remember this is America - it is your right to bidet.  United we Swash!

The Resignation

I did it!  I officially resigned from my job!
Oh and here was my resignation letter -

I don’t know how to say this, I don’t know how it’s done

But I’m concerned I’ve run my course, this job just isn’t fun 

It was one time way in the past a ministry I thought

But now it’s become frustrating – a ministry it’s not

And so I go in hopes of finding more out there for me

It won’t be hard to fill the office spot I bet you’ll see

I’m giving you my notice, two weeks until I’m done

I want the church to know at times it really was quite fun

But lately things are tough with those overstepping the lines

And venturing to tasks not theirs, to tell the truth they’re mine

As well as folks who volunteered deciding that they’re through

So I’ve been told their jobs fall to me which is not fair if true

And so it is with a sad heart you will not see my name

On the back of the bulletin anymore, the job just isn’t the same

As it was when I started long ago, way back when

So I will be no longer here officially as of May 10

I will miss some of you and wish you well along your way

But due to certain instances I can no longer stay

So good-bye, farewell, see you around and all those other things

It feels so good to finally be spreading out my wings

I feel bad even as I type this and am really on my way out

But before I leave I just have to say I will not miss the Scouts

Look Out World, Here Comes Superwoman!

I am on an upswing!  Must be a few good bipolar days for me or something because I have made so much progress yesterday and today.  Yesterday I woke up in a funk.  I could practically see the dark cloud over my head.  It was awful.  I felt hopeless.  I felt despair.  I felt totally useless.  I called my boss and took a mental health day from work and then I talked to a great friend online and did something I didn't know I was going to do that day.  I chucked the new therapist I had been seeing.  That's right.  I kicked her to the curb.  I called (lauckily getting her answering service) and cancelled my appoinment for Friday.  It was like the heavens opened and light was shining down on me.  All of a sudden I had this huge weight lifted off my back that I didn't even realize was there.  I had been dreading my next appointment and now that I had scrapped that I was free.  I called a new therapist and explained to her that what I am looking for is talk therapy not behavioral stuff and she said she will be happy to talk to me.  She even got me in within the next two weeks.  I was light as air at this point so I asked myself, what else do I want to do and have been putting off?  So I started today to set up my online shop.  I have enough  necklaces to start one and can make more if I need to but I thought today is the day.  So I went onto the site and set up shop.  It was a lot harder than I thought it would be but I am determined.  I have no items in it yet and probably won't launch it until next week.  But I am doing it damn it!  I am going to be happy!  I've even decided to get healthier and Hubby has agreed to jump on the bandwagon.  We are going to do the "Couch to 5K" program.  I have a friend that did it and another friend who is currently doing it so it has a realistic look to it.  I just hope I can ride this high long enough to see some improvements in my life.  So, now in addition to being a blog about a girl who is switching therapists, it will also be a blog about a girl attempting to shed some pounds and start her own business.  See - a little bit of something for everyone.  I aim to please!

Maternal Contentment and the Art of Philanthropy

I just spent an hour in the basement clearing out old crap.  Hubby was with me so it wasn't too bad.  It basically consisted of me going through boxes and handing crap to Hubby saying "Trash" or "Donate".  We got rid of a lot of stuff - three bags of trash and a bunch of boxes to donate.  It feels good to get stuff cleaned out.  Some of the stuff was trash, some of it was things to be donated without pause and some of it was sentimental in value.  I thought the sentimental stuff would be harder to get rid of but it wasn't.  I stopped at one point on a shirt and thought "This would be cute in a t-shirt quilt".  Then I remembered the pile of t-shirts I already have upstairs that are not yet in quilt form and thought "This would be more beneficial to someone as a t-shirt."  What a beautiful thought.  What a beautiful freeing thought.  I don't know if I've been taken over by the spirit of someone who can actually accomplish this stuff but I was definately on a roll.  I was getting rid of stuff right and left.  I've never felt so free.  It was liberating.  The thing is that I have to be in the mood to get rid of stuff.  It's strange how that happens.  One day I can be holding onto things and remembering old times.  The next day I can be throwing out the thing I was fixated on the day before.  Its strange.  I'm strange.  Now I have a few boxes of papers that I have to go through before they can just be thrown out.  Its sad that we live in a world where you can't just throw things away because someone somewhere might go through your trash.  Sigh.  What a wonderful world we live in huh?  Well, at least nothing happened at the school on Friday although I think if someone were going to do something, they would wait until a day where there were actually people there.  Great.  Now I'm afraid to send my daughter to school tomorrow.  I tell you where I am not sending her at the moment - Walt Disney World.  Yes, I decided that my daughter's education is more important than a trip to Orlando.  It was all just too much.  The dates were wrong.  The flights cost a lot.  Most of the hotels were booked up.  It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.  Just wasn't going to happen.  So I sit here - mouseless and wonder what tomorrow will bring.  Guess I'll go work on my "Good Things About Me" list.  I guess considering the concession I made about the Florida trip, I could start off with "a good mom".

Little Miss Crankypants

I called the girl to fix the color in my hair and she was nice - as usual I just made things out to be worse than they really are.  I have no villian at the moment so I'm kind of cranky.  It is a beautiful day outside and I'm still cranky.  I had a productive day and I'm still cranky.  I had a breakfast date with my hubby and I'm still cranky.  What the hell is my problem?  Oh, that's right, I have Mood Disorder N. O. S.  There I go again.  Making myself be the disorder.  My therapist says that I shouldn't let my disorders define who I am but when your disorders affect majority of your thoughts, actions, and emotions, how do you differentiate yourself from the disorder without ending up with a split personality.  Which, I might add is a whole other disorder. I think I'm just tired.  My doc allowed me to go off of one of my meds upon my request.  Sometimes I get tired of putting so many extra chemicals into my body even if they are needed or have good results.  It was the med that helped me to sleep.  I'm falling asleep just fine but I'm not sleeping as deeply or as soundly as I was before.  When I wake up at night (and I do wake up many times with or without the medication) I find that I am more awake and alert than with my medication which makes me realize that the medication was actually doing something.  The trouble is that I don't want to go back on the medicine but I want to be getting enough sleep.  Whatever.  I'm just cranky and that's the way its going to be today.

Billie Joe Armstrong is My Idol (Title Has No Relation to my Post I'm Just Singing Green Day on Guitar Hero While Trying to Come Up with a Title)

I went to my therapy appointment today and it went well.  I was so scared that she was going to be angry with me for buying the wrong book but she wasn't and if she was, she didn't let me know it.  The workbook I have is on Dialectical Behavior Therapy.  She said she didn't know much about it but she had heard good things.  I'm on page 40 so I think its going well.  Most things would have lost my attention by page 10.  But this I'm finding interesting.  It is reminding me that not everything I do is negative.  There are some good things to me.  That's what I have to do for my next therapy session next Friday - make a list of good things about me.  It'll be tough.  I'm not really one to see the good in things let alone myself.  But the book is helping.  And believe it or not, today's therapy session helped too.  I was convinced that it wouldn't.  Actually, I was convinced that my therapist was a puppy kicking, hair pulling bully.  But she's not.  She is nice.  I don't know why I tend to villify everyone.  Ok, so maybe not everyone.  Just her mostly.  But I did do it.  I wish I wouldn't.  I wish I could go through life with lollipops and rainbows like my hubby.  But I must be true to myself and until I've gone through enough therapy with Dr. Not-Cruella-Deville to learn differently I guess I will continue to villify someone most of the time.  I mean what good is a story without a villian.  I'll try to limit it to one person at a time.  Now, I just have to call that kitten punching, shin kicking chick who is going to fix my blue-green hair color.  I'm sure in reality she's really sweet.

Long Time, No Blog

Hello there stranger!  It's been some time hasn't it?  I let myself get into a bit of an insecure funk and couldn't bring myself to blog but hopefully I'm back - at least no more breaks of longer than a month.  I can't believe that I didn't blog even once in February.  It must have been a much bigger funk than I thought it was.  Oh well, you can't go back and change what's in the past.  You can only change what will happen in the future with your actions of the present.  Wow.  Pretty profound for me dontcha think?  I continue to drive my daughter to school and pick her up everyday.  Tomorrow is Super Tuesday (although they really should call it Pain-in-the-Ass Tuesday with all the political crap that's everywhere you turn) and we get to vote on the tax levy again tomorrow.  Not that that will change anything for this year.  I shouldn't really complain.  It gets my butt out of the house each weekday at least twice - once fully dressed, no jamas!  Super Tuesday is really bumming me out though.  My phone rings ten times a day and each time I get excited thinking its an actual person for me but its not.  Its just some bogus recorded message telling me to vote for Mr. Slimeball because he's the least creepy of the candidates.  Nothing like reminding me that I have no friends who actually call me Mr. Slimeball.  Way to get my hopes up.  But I'm working on it.  This no friends thing.  Don't get me wrong, I have tons of acquaintances but not many that fall into the realm of friends and the ones that do fall into my strict definition of friend usually live at a distance and I'm not really all that good at keeping up with those relationships.  Maybe I need to redefine my definition of friend.  Maybe I need to be more socially active.  Maybe I lost my therapist and am not sure if I like the new lady and so I'm looking to you guys for emotional and psychological guidance.  Yeah, I think that last one hit the nail on the head.  After six years of intense work, my therapist had to quit for medical reasons.  I feel bad for her - really I do.  But I also feel bad for me.  I feel like six years of work has just gone down the drain.  Nothing like starting all over again.  After much agonizing, I chose a new therapist or at least a candidate for my new therapist and I'm not sure if I like her or not.  So far, most of what we have done is background work - when were you hospitalized, what progress have you made, what was your original diagnosis - that kind of stuff.  Surprisingly I've learned that I have a more in depth diagnosis than I thought I did (Who knew I was agoraphobic or borderline bipolar in addition to the OCD, depression and panic attacks?) as well as the fact that I indeed had made considerable progress over those last six years (Boundaries.  I got 'em now babe.)  I guess its a little like watching your kids grow up.  Its so small every day, every week that when you really step back and look at it - holy cow they've grown!  Anyway, I've decided to document my search for a new therapist in the hopes of helping others who may go through the same thing.  So far, aside from the background, she has assigned me to buy a workbook on relaxation techniques and stress management.  I didn't.  Instead I bought a workbook on depression and anxiety.  I've been using it and it seems to be helpful so far.  I guess we'll see what "Dr. Number 2" has to say about my rebellion.  If she's not ok with it, I don't think I'm ok with her.  I see her again on Friday so we'll see how it goes.  This will be my third weekly visit.  I hate to tell her, I'm not really looking for relaxation techniques.  I'm not there yet.  I'm looking for ways to stop obsessive thoughts, improve my self-esteem, and break out of this funk for starters.  Frankly, I think even though she has the degree, I am the one who should know what I need.  I need to work through my severe anxiety before I go deep breathing and picturing my happy place.  If nothing else comes from my having this depressive funk, at least I have my new blue hair!

It Doesn't Matter if He Can Tap Dance or Not, Jesus is Still an Awesome Guy

I was at our work Christmas party the other day having a good old time.  The party planning committee (me and my stuffed pig) had accomplished another brilliant feat of festive activities and I was thoroughly enjoying them.  In discussing the holiday with my co-worker, (yes I only have one and the party consists of me and him) I said how I was behind on my Christmas to-do list.  I stated that I didn't even have my stable and nativity up yet and how there just isn't room for it this year.  I thought for a second.  I have room for the six and a half foot tall Christmas tree (barely).  I have room for the snowmen and the penguins, the cute birds with the santa hats who are ice skating and the Mickey and Minnie Mouse in the sleigh.  I even have room for the tap dancing santa, reindeer and elves, but the Christ child - heck no.  No room for him in my inn.  I had to chuckle at myself.  I try so hard to respect the religious beliefs of others that I often forget and turn my back completely on the religious roots to which I will forever be tethered even with all my doubting and questioning.  Whether I believe Jesus was the son of God or not, he was a great man.  We celebrate Martin Luther King Jr., Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, and many other great men and women.  But I happened to overlook the celebrating of possibly the most influential and inspiring person in all of history just because he is claimed to be supernatural and I don't know if I agree with that.  Either way, his life should be celebrated and what better way to celebrate it than by celebrating his birth (even if the date was chosen based on numerous other outside influences rather than actual chronology).  Even though I prefer to focus on his life and teachings rather than his birth and death, without a birthday there would be no Jesus.  So Chuy, I will move the parrot's playgym and get out my nativity - complete with santa, reindeer, snowmen, winnie the pooh, squirrels, unicorn, panda bears, rooster and six kings - and make room in my heart as well.  Remember, peace, hope and love is what he proclaimed and it is what I wish you this holiday season!  Happy Whatever-You-Celebrate to You!

Fourth and Goal

I recently realized that once upon a time, I had goals in my life.  I wanted to get a piece of paper from a college or university by the year 2000 and I did it (it was an associate's but that counts right?).  I wanted to do certain shows in the world of community theatre and I managed to direct and/or choreograph quite a few of them.  I wanted to raise a happy healthy child and . . . well . . . she turns seventeen next month.  But that was all in the past.  I have come to realize that I currently have a lack of focus beyond my normal ADD.  Sure, I have things to do day to day but I want some goals people.  I'm hoping you can help me.  Some of you don't know me any more than what you have read on here.  Some of you know me personally.  Either way, I'd like your help.  I'm hoping that your suggestions will lead to some wonderful future adventures for me.  Thank everyone!

WANTED:

GOALS FOR ME TO FOCUS ON

Large or small

Realized I have no goals to work toward

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What Now?

So I don't quite know what's going on with me.  Since I have come to a final decision about what was eating up 95% of my thought process, I don't really know what to do with myself.  It feels good to be free of the constant internal stuggle but at the same time, I am not quite sure where my place and what my purpose is now.  My mind is free.  I have time on my hands.  I should be glad.  Instead, I am overwhelmed with possibilities and don't quite know where to start.  So many options I don't know where to focus now.  But I will find my way.  I will once again find a healthy balance.  Being a mom to my daughter and helping her transition into adulthood.  Being a wife to my hubby and finding comfort in his companionship.  Being me.  I think that's where the problem lies.  I have been so busy thinking and waiting and wondering that now I am able to get back to me.  The thing is - who am I?  That is the position I was in a year and a half ago when this whole thing started.  I don't quite know yet but I am slowly finding my way.  I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of my friends and family for their support through this recent confusing time for me.  I will be back to my old self soon.  I have had one interesting devleopment recently.  I have been asked to be a book reviewer for a review blog.  You should check it out.  You can find it at beeskneesreviews.blogspot.com  Look for the reviews posted by quirkyme.  I have done two reviews for them thus far and I love it.  It is so refreshing to do something you enjoy.  I figure this expression of my opinions in the literary world may once again free up my voice in life in general.  Hopefully I will back to myself in no time.

School Daze

I got an interesting friend request today on facebook.  It was from a girl that I went to high school with.  How she found me I have no idea.  I don't have my high school listed on my profile and nowhere on my profile does it even give my maiden name.  She doesn't know my family.  I thought I was incognito enough to avoid being found - but no.  She won the prize because she tracked me down.  The friend request was nice and polite, making sure it was indeed me.  I hesitated for some time and thought about whether or not to click confirm.  I also got a message from her saying the same thing as the friend request.  I thought "Wow.  She's really happy that she found me."  I got awash with the nostalgic warm fuzzies and allowed my mouse to hover over confirm and then . . . click . . . and I was immediately invited to my twenty year high school reunion.  What the hell?  But there is no putting the toothpaste back in the tube.  The can was open and the worms were all over the floor.  The room was spinning a little and those warm fuzzies were now creeping in the corners of my eyes with shades of blackness.  Now, not only did this girl track me down but she shared me with everyone else in the class of '91.  Great.  Just what I wanted.  High school was rough for me.  I didn't enjoy it and I don't care to relive it in any way shape or form.  This includes a reunion.  Sure, let's just gather together all of the people who didn't like me in a bar and talk at length about the names they used to call me.  Or better yet, let's recreate the late 80's/early 90's and have me pay $30 to sit at a table all by myself with nobody to talk to.  Yeah, that'll be fun.  Sounds like a blast.  Hello.  People.  There's a reason I didn't maintain contact with you and you had no desire to maintain contact with me.  We weren't friends.  We were classmates.  There is a BIG difference there.  At least in my book there is.  Sure there are one or two people I would love to see but those people know who they are.  They were at my wedding.  They have met my daughter.  They were NICE to me way back when.  We may have lost contact but those people will always be in my heart.  Its unfortunate that high school was so hellish that I have to miss out on seeing those few people I want to see due to the risk of renewed rejection from all the rest.  So to the happy, popular kids, have fun reliving your glory days.  Too bad they are over.  To the few people I wish to see again, if you ever read this you will know who you are and can reunite with me if you'd like.  No pressure.  And to myself, kudos to you for leaving that part of life behind you and moving on.  I may never click "confirm" again in my life.

A Freudian Slip-pery Slope

Today I had a therapy session.  Yes, I go to therapy.  You got a problem with that.  Didn't think so.  Anyway, aside from the fact that I'm a little defensive about it, my session today was . . . well . . . confusing.  I took Hubby with me because I felt that I needed the support and since we were going to discuss the same topics we did last time and last time he came, I just figured that his coming was a given.  Nope.  There was an early morning crisis as I debated whether or not he should come.  The problem wasn't whether or not he should come, the problem was he didn't really want to come.  He had been encouraging me all week to go by myself.  I didn't want him to come, I wanted him to want to come.  He gave in and came.  We chatted and discussed many issues I will not specify here.  The hour went by too quickly and before I knew it my therapist had picked up her pen (the sign we as her clients are taught means time to pay - its all rather Pavlovian).  But we were just in the middle of something.  We were just getting to the good part.  What do you mean its time to pay and be on my way.  I quickly voiced my desire to come back as soon as possible hoping on some unrealistic level that she would just let us stay a few more hours.  But it is Friday, so I have to wait until Monday to go back.  By then I will have lost my place.  My thoughts will be subdued and it'll basically be like starting over.  When we left the office and Hubby stated that he didn't really learn anything new (what my ears hear: that was a waste of time and I didn't need to come).  But he did speak in there.  So there was a purpose to him coming.  I thought we did well.  I thought we made progress.  I thought we both learned new things about how to cope and deal and strive to be the ever elusive "normal".  Instead, I have an appointment on Monday and I'm pretty sure that justifies what I'm pretty sure he is thinking - the problem is me.  I think its better to overreact instead of being oblivious.  He thinks the other way around.  We were told to meet in the middle but due to our circumstances in our particular situation it is better to ____________.  I fill in the blank with overreact.  He says she said no such thing.  I wrote it down so I can check with her and find out what exactly she said on Monday.  Of course he won't be there so he might not believe me when I tell him the answer.  The right answer.  My answer.  I can't believe we argued about this on the way home from the therapist.  Great.  Nothing like a little therapy to come between us.
To Be Continued on Monday . . . After My Session . . .

Grow Up Already

I hate bullies.  You'd think that I mean the type of bully who pushes other kids down on the playground.  While I do indeed hate that type of bully too, I'm talking about adult bullies.  When you're growing up and you encounter bullies you can't wait to be an adult but what you don't realize is that there are bullies in the adult world too.  They are much more manipulative than the sort of physical abuse that young bullies resort to.  Instead they will use their words and their passive aggressive tactics to reign supreme over others.  I encountered one of these such bullies today.  I had sent her an email telling her that she couldn't have what she wanted and within ten minutes my phone rang.  She was overbearing and aggressive.  I tried to stand my ground while she tried to get information she wasn't entitled to.  I hung up the phone wondering what just happened.  I was now following her instructions instead of those I was hired to follow.  She wanted me doing things that were not my job and I was miffed.  After calling my boss and venting for a few minutes, I found a way to turn the situation around so she would be following our rules.  The thing is how many people would have just gone and done everything she asked for to avoid further conflict.  That shouldn't happen.  It's the adult equivalent of being pushed down on the playground.  If you work or play with an adult bully, don't take their crap.  Stand up for yourself no matter how hard it may be.  If they are making your life miserable, who knows how many other people feel the same way.  Adult bullies need to be stopped as well.  The first step is recognizing them.  Once you recognize them, it will be much easier to remind them that you too have a life, you too have responsibilities, and you too are worth something.  You are not just there for their ribbing and exploitation.  If you are doing the work and not getting the credit, speak up.  If you feel pushed around and unheard, speak up.  Don't let the bullies get the best of you.  Be a good example to the youth of today.  Don't be a bully.  The sad thing is my bully today is an official in an organization shaping the youth of today into the leaders of tomorrow. 

Mix It Up

I have made a recent rediscovery.  I love music.  I'm not talking about turning on the radio in the car and singing along with whatever happens to be on.  I'm talking about finding those old favorites, digging them out and dusting them off.  Reconnect with yourself through music.  Remember who you are.  For most people, who they are is easily reflected in the music they like.  Find those songs that, as far as you're concerned, just won't ever be out of style.  Make a collection.  Remember the old mix tape?  Remember sitting there with the cassette recorder trying to get the perfect mix?  Getting that seamless line up where the songs flow and aren't all disjointed.  I have made some mix CDs recently and I am so loving them.  I have one of upbeat stuff and one of mellow stuff and one of my top favs.  So I encourage you to get in touch with yourself through melodies, rhythms and lyrics.  You'll be surprised the memories and the moods they evoke.  If you're looking for something new, here's my current top ten.  What's yours?

10.  And So It Goes - Billy Joel
9.  Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
8.  The Way - Fastball
7.  Human - The Killers
6.  I Want Love - Elton John
5.  Santa Monica - Everclear
4.  One of God's Better People - Robbie Williams
3.  Just a Girl - No Doubt
2.  Good Riddance - Green Day
1.  Gravity - Sara Bareilles

Happy Listening!

Resolution Solution

I wanted to have a blog posting that was really deep today since it is the last day of 2010.  I wanted to wow you with my insight on 2010.  I tried reflecting back on my year and . . . well . . . there honestly wasn't that much to reflect on.  We went to Hometown a few times, Hubby went on a few business trips, our daughter did her thing with school activities but overall it was a rather uneventful year.  As I am typing this, I am looking at a sticky note stuck to my computer monitor with my resolutions for 2010 on it.  I didn't do bad at them but I guess I could have done better.  They were 1) Live simply, 2) Cherish that which cannot be seen, and 3) Find comfort in order and awareness.  When 2010 started, I was very proud of these what I considered deep, philosophical resolutions.  These were going to change my life I thought.  But while I have worked at these I realize that they should not be new year's resolutions - they should be a way of life period.  I should not think of it as what can I do to improve in this coming year.  I should think of it as what can I do to improve my life period.  I made some progress on those resolutions but not enough.  And I don't want to give up on them just yet.  I feel there is more work to be done in these areas and just because 2010 is ending doesn't mean I should just give up on them.  And it is not just making the same resolution year after year because I didn't fulfill it last year.  My life is a work in progress - something that is constantly changing and morphing.  I'm sure these ideas will be added on to as the year progresses but as far as new year's resolutions go, my resolution is to continue improving on my last year's resolutions . . . no . . . make that to continue with my new focuses in life - to live simply, to cherish that which cannot be seen, and to find comfort in order and awareness.  Happy New Year everyone!

Dia de los Pajamas

Today I would like to introduce you to something very important and close to my heart.  It should be a part of everyone's life every now and then.  Its fulfilling and enjoyable beyond your wildest dreams.  Its a pajama day.  In case you're unaware, a pajama day is a day where you stay at home in your jammies all day long.  That's right - all day long!  You relax.  You indulge in whatever your heart desires as long as you stay in your pajamas.  I'm not saying you can't be productive.  Catch up on your e-mail, pay some bills, do a load of laundry but do it all in your pajamas.  It's a sanity day of sorts.  Everyone needs to take a break from the rat race every now and then and its a forced break.  Whenever we try to plan a day where we just kick back and relax, it never fails.  We always remember something we forgot to go get or something we should have done.  We then end up going out and not relaxing.  With a pajama day, there is no choice but to stay home.  You can't exactly go get groceries in your pajamas (although I think I have seen some people do that at the Kroger).  You won't be as eager to run to Wal-mart or Target in your pajamas.  You can nap and read and do the things that you like to do.  So plan out some sanity time by scheduling a pajama day.  You'll enjoy it.  I'll bet my jammies on it!