Hello, my friend, hello....

11.6.08 - 12p

Well.

This has been my most extended break as of yet.

Lots going on. Lots not going on.

As a matter of fact, I had one of my most sensational nervous breakdowns to date, just yesterday.

Let's see: I'm out of money (-$74, in fact), out of medicine, I'm being pulled in a million different directions, my house is in the worst state it's ever been - it's a literal sty (it's so bad, I can't even find my pigs), I'm in some of the most incredible amount of full-body pain I've ever experienced, as well as in the mid-stages of another pilonidal cyst (refer to first post ever) that is basically a ticking time bomb in the crack of my ass, and I'm trying desperately to get my assigned general surgeon to take care of it, and of course, this all culminates only three days from the ninth anniversary of the death of my beloved mother.

I'm sure there's more I can think of, but I don't really want to.

And, please don't tell me you're sorry (and don't send money). I'M sorry...for not keeping you updated. These are just the things that are going on in my life at this present time. And, it's just the way life is for me. As for anyone else, I'm not sure - I can only speak for my own. I'm okay with it...but not happy or satisfied, or even good.

Right this second, though, I'm sitting at work, with five minutes left on my lunch, as my neck and shoulder spasm down through my right arm, and my pillow slips out from under my rear, gravity pulling my cyst dangerously closer to touching the chair, and gritting my teeth and faking the "joy of work," trying to keep myself from the blood-curdling screams, until I can get home and collapse in tears.

You know how it is - everything all at once.

Pardon, while I relieve my coworker...


11.7.08 - 930a

As you can tell, this is why I no longer have a chance to post. I am now currently living the probably the worst day in OR history, in the respect of my cohort, Derrick, and myself. We've had one of the worst surgeons ever blessedly come back to join our ever-shrinking and already fragile family. Every day just gets worse and worse here, thanks to our main employer. I must be careful in this day and age - don't want to get sued for slander, even though it's my own personal opinion that I'm not allowed to voice.

For "they" will here you, and come after you. And, if you think "they" won't, then you've obviously never worked for "them."

But, that's not why I'm posting. I'm doing this for myself. And, for those of you who actually care. And, for those of you who just need a little entertainment, since The View is on right now, and you think if you have to hear any more squawking from that ridiculous and intolerant Elisabeth Hasselbeck, you're going to build a post on the roof of your house and wait for the apocalypse, because then, maybe after that, they will have cancelled the show...although you know they'll just come up with a spin-off.


I'm okay right now. I'm very tired. My face is very swollen from crying. My back and neck are chiding me for the years of abuse through which I've put them. (This, girls, is why I bug you about exercising, taking calcium and good posture!!!)


And, all I want is to talk to someone who understands me. *insert melodramatic sigh here* Not specifically someone who is sympathetic to the things which I'm combating. Just someone who is on that level - my level. My "alternative-Christian, computer and game geekery, environmental, humanitarian and animal rights ACTIVIST-IST (activist actually means something to me, as opposed to just sending money), living overseas to help the truly suffering of whom have been forgotten, and wants to simultaneously start a family-ish, at least able to put up with my desire to dress as I feel, whether it's provocative, crazy, jeans or just nothing-self, and is okay when I just need to cry it out and doesn't tell me to 'stop crying' " kind of level.

That's my level. That's me. Love it or abandon it. I couldn't care less, because I won't change for anyone, unless God feels it necessary to change me. I know it sounds brash, but you don't hear me harping on YOU to change, do you? And, if you do, feel free to punch me in the mouth, because apparently, I've been possessed.

Lately, though, my best friend is constantly busy, for which I don't fault her in the least - she has three children of whom demand all of her attention (I'm envious of her wonderful family). She also is having issues within her life, that I'm hoping to help guide her through, since she's already done so much for me. But, all I can do is be there for her and hug her when she cries...and laugh when she falls down (I love you, Mig)! &=)

My family is......well, they're my family, "but I love them anyway." In reality, I love them regardless, and I would never give up on them, no matter what. I have a family letter that is currently in the works. I'm not my mother, but I'm definitely not hiding behind anyone's skirts. I don't have any qualms with addressing the affairs that are going on, of which I think are irrefutable. I'm really tired of them ignoring the things that are happening, that are slowly but surely tearing us apart.

But, that will all come out in time.

As for myself, I'm making it. I rarely have a moment where I actually feel in touch with my true self. But, she's in there. I'm just having problems accessing her.

I miss her. She made me happy.

Sure, some people, friends as well as family, don't always agree with who I am and what I do. But, that's why I'm me, and you're you. We won't always agree on everything. You won't always think what I do is um, "mature." But, I don't always think what you do or say is right or appropo.

I like to consider myself as a very tolerant person, though. I'm usually good about keeping my mouth shut, as opposed to criticisizing the lifestyles of others. And, although some may believe I'm misled, I consider tolerance a Christian value. What other people do, say or believe is none of my concern. As I heard once before, if you take a hula hoop, put it over your head, and drop it to the ground, that's the area that you should be concerned about. Not that I don't believe in witnessing to others, but I would NEVER push myself onto anyone else.

Only medically.

I believe that I have enough knowledge, having worked in the hospital for a number of years, that I can "encourage" people to do things to make themselves well. But, I'm sure it also extends from the fact that I was able to do nothing for my mother, due to my ignorance.

I don't like ignorance. I believe in teaching and research and experience. There's no reason to be ignorant on any subject.

Anyway, my point is, I'm searching for someone (whom I know God will send my way, if it's within His will) who complements me. I'm looking for someone similar to whom I've had in the past, only mature. I need a man who is able to be my rock and my shelter. I will never put my complete reliance in another human being, because we all die, and I can't allow myself to feel that vulnerable and inept at life ever again.



Ahh, I go on and on so.



I need to draw this to a close, or I'll never post it. This is obviously a very raw, unformatted version, and I apologize. You know I'm usually try to add a little more pizzazz.

I'm all out of pizzazz right now.

I wish you all well, be you friend or enemy. I hope that sometimes, I can encourage people to open their minds. It's a very freeing experience. Being unbiased or observant doesn't mean you don't care. You all know I could never STOP myself from caring.

Just please give me a break. I'm 31, now. I'm adult. I'm okay. And, if I need help or advice, I promise I will ask. But, please just lay off. You won't change me - you'll only push me away.

To those of you who have stood by me, thank you. You have no idea what your friendship means to me, to know that I can always turn to you in a time of need.

Hm.

Back to work.

Dreams on hold

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

What happens when you trust no one? When you trust nothing? What happens when you feel like it's all lies and deception?

I want to scream at people and ask them what they could possibly want from me.

At work - lies. Lies and hiding and secrets. They outwardly stress communication, but it's all lies. They don't ACTUALLY want you to communicate. They want you to keep quiet and take it up the rear. Your boss lies, the doctors lie, your coworkers lie, your customers lie, human resources lies...

Life - Politicians, right now, are preaching lies. The creditors tell you lies. Your yard man lies. The gas station attendant lies. Your landlord lies. Your family lies. Your friends lie. You lie. I lie.

But at least *I* make a serious, conscientious effort not to. Sometimes it's just better not to say anything at all. I can't speak for anyone else.

Off on a tangent, but still within the subject of LIES.....I'm sure every guy who's ever emailed me to tell me how much alike we are, how we share the same characteristics, how he's always wanted to do that type of work, is a complete and total liar.

When I tell people I'm joining the Peace Corps, I'M GETTING ON A PLANE AND LEAVING THE UNITED STATES. I don't know if they know what PC is, and I don't really care, because if they wanted to know, they would ask me instead of lying about wanting so badly to go with me, then turning green when I tell them what this entails.

I would like someone who isn't opposed to starting a family, basically "on the lam," who anticipates raising a completely different type of family, where our children will be children of the world, who understand the true suffering in the world, aren't afraid of it and grow to devise ways to defeat it; children who will be raised to learn to participate in the things we would stand for as a family. I want someone who looks forward to the blood, sweat and tears that this hard work will bring, who can will protect our family with whatever it takes, who is fearless, yet who is God-fearing, and who will love me for the rest of our lives together and beyond.

I haven't found him.

And, I don't feel like looking anymore.

My dreams are on hold. They've been put to the side right now, because the world makes me face whatever it wants me to face RIGHT AWAY.

I have to face work. I have to COPE with it. I think it's a sad day, when you dread coming to work, because you know the whole day, it's going to be all about coping. I have to face my boss tomorrow, because we got in a fight today. And, I could have punched him square in the mouth if he wouldn't have walked away. Because I'm sick of his bullshit, just as he's sick of mine.

I wanted to mow down all the people from the Pain Clinic today, with that ridiculously heavy-ass demo C-arm we've been using. The C-arm rep was getting on my nerves - he had NO CONCEPT of personal space. The nurse is just a flat-out bitch, but it's ok, because she already knows it and flaunts it. The doctor was semi-ok. But I couldn't make the machine do what it was supposed to do, and I got frustrated. Then, ON TOP OF ALL OF THAT, it was hot as hell in there, and I thought I was going to vomit. But, don't ask to turn down the temp in the room, because someone - nurse or doctor - is going to go ballistic. And, the cherry on the top is that I just fucking hate pain clinic. I hate going down there. I've had to go all week, because everyone else "didn't want to go."

Um, neither did I. So, I called for a break, because I knew my boss would be coming to relieve me in the next 30 min (which means hour or so). I flew out of there in a rage, because I couldn't take it. Anymore. I couldn't.

Then a pregnant lady fell in the hallway, and we had to get her to the ER. That was God telling me to calm down and stop thinking so much about myself.

But, I didn't listen. I never listen.

I marched back to the department, and I was more than happy to take xrays. MY JOB, the downstairs OR calls, and I jump up with enthusiasm and head on downstairs. It's past my lunchtime at this point, but I'm SO THANKFUL to be going downstairs, to my home, again, that I don't even want to take lunch. I want to be with MY PEOPLE. I want to do the job that I'm good at, that doesn't stress me out, that doesn't piss me off, that doesn't require bitching to get things done. I want to be here. I WANT TO.

So, my boss comes down...him: nonchalantly "Hey, what's going on?" me: "Not working in pain clinic, that's what's going on. And don't plan on going back." him: "Ok, well, it's lunchtime." me: "I don't want to take a lunch." (and by the way, I was being TOTALLY honest.) him: "Come on - lunchtime." me: "I'm NOT taking lunch."

He immediately strikes back with "FINE! Then you're not going to get a lunch!" me: "I KNOW. That's kinda what 'no lunch' means. I just want to work straight through lunch." him: "SEE?? THIS is why we have a problem!"

Then he starts walking away, mumbling. I ask what he said, and he half turns and says, "We'll talk about it later." me: "Why not now?" He's marching down the hallway. me: "What's the matter? Everyone else can bitch and get what they want, but not me?????" At this point, I'm screaming down the hallway in surgery.

Not good.

Then, later on, I was sitting at the far desk reading a book, when all of a sudden Derrick walks up to the main desk and says, "WHAT'S THIS, WORK? Just stay there, Jennifer! I got it!"

Of course, I stood up to see what he was talking about. Apparently, Stella had brought back requests without saying anything, so um, uh oh, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT SHIT WAS SITTING THERE!!!!"

When I stood up, Derrick said loudly, "No, Jennifer, sit down! I've got it!" me: "I didn't know it was sitting up there!!!!"

So, of course, bless him, he gets the one with TWO exams, and I get the measley chest xray. Once again, the face punching feeling came back.

Why the fuck he was yelling at me, I don't know. I'm going to say something to him tomorrow, and I know I'm going to get an earful of whining, just like everyone else around there does, even me.

God, I beg you to help me cope with this place, until it is time for me to leave. I WILL give this to you, because I don't want it anymore. I don't ever want to touch it again, but you know how I worry, so help me get rid of it. Help me repair the things which need to be repaired, get rid of the people who need to be disposed of, and concentrate on the ultimate goal. I have no answers. And, I'm completely at your will.

Eyes are closing. I hope I can explain more later. And if you read about yourself in this, this is my space, and I can say whatever I want.

It helps me to let go. And, I'm letting go of you.

My brain is scrambled eggs. I'll translate tomorrow...

Plus, I missed belly dancing tonight, and I'm really pissed. It's the one thing I've SO been looking forward to all week. It's my momentary escape from hate - mine and everyone else's.

More tomorrow, maybe. Words are starting to blur.

At least I'm not doing a monologue from Harry Potter or Spongebob

So, I'm looking to find a Shakespearean piece to read on Monday night. I'm thinking they prefer a monologue, and I'm leaning more towards Titus Andronicus, since that is my favorite play by ol' Willem.

The part I've chosen (for those of you who know...or don't know) is when Titus' brother Marcus is walking through the forest and comes upon his niece, Lavinia, who has been raped and mutilated by the Empress' two sons, Demetrius and Chiron. I might have picked something else, but time was coming down, and anyway, I liked it. I guess I need to build up my repertoire, though, if I plan on being serious about this.

Anyway, here it is:

Act II

Scene IV

Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!
Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so?
O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him, to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touch'd them for his life!
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
For such a sight will blind a father's eye:
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

So, anyway, yeah. That's my piece. I still wished I could have done the one from Sense and Sensibility - that's the one I can memorize and deliver like a fiend. This one is taking me a little longer. Plus, I could totally suck ass - I know that.

Mind you, I'm not looking to be the lead.



Yet. &=)

Tryouts are tomorrow evening at Workplay - I'll let you know how it goes.

If you don't like inane rambling and lots of bitching, please don't read this, because frankly, I don't want to hear it.

Ok, so I know I haven't typed in a while, so I'm going to get a lot said...or not. Because I'm feeling way crazy right now. I had a really bad headache this afternoon, and so I took a couple of excedrins. Ephedrins? Ephedra? Are excedrins illegal?...because they FEEL illegal...

I've got the giggity shakes for real. And, then I tried to type the word "dawg" today, but it looked so awkward coming out of my pretend mouth. Like, I was "working like a dawg," but then I thought, why do people write it like that? Because it's more letters, and why would you add instead of take away??

Hot dawg? I want a hot dawg with mustard and ketchup? See, it's just not right.

And, by the way, I'm rubbing my feet together furiously (sign of serious anxiety), so you have to read this really fast. In fact, my fingers can't even type fast enough, but that's mainly because my keyboard is missing the c and v keys, so I have to make a point to think about it and push those little rubber jimmies that make the letters. So, I have to think too hard about typing, and it's messing me up. I have no flow.

Speaking of flow, you should see that at the film festival or download it - powerful stuff. And, then you should stop wasting water. Or before that. What was I saying?

Oh, and I went to my doctor's appointment today for my wrist, and I went in and told her my name and "yes, I know I'm here an hour early, but I didn't have anything better to do." So, she's looking on the computer, and looking...and looking.......and I get an idea and open my datebook, flip to a page, shut it, and say, "ok, so I'll see you next week..." and she put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. I told her that all day, it's been that kind of day where you're constantly losing clumps of hair, and by the end of the day, you're saving them in your cheek and your locker and your pockets, because maybe someone can salvage them later. The wonderful thing is, she bent over and showed me the bald spots on top of her head. I was like, "YOU are my sister, and I love you!" So, yay, it's not me...not that I cared what the hell anyone else was thinking.

Yes, all day it was like that. But, I'll tell that in a minute. So, on to the part AFTER the time that happened first. So, I'm driving down the road, and I have to merge, and when I do, I almost crash into the back of a Lexus, who had slammed on its' brakes. And, then there was a Mercedes in front of that, and I thought, what were to happen if a Lexus and a Mercedes were to crash into each other? Would it turn into bunnies and gold coins and toys? Would everyone get paid and houses and kids?

But what if two Lexuses...Lexi......were to crash into each other? Does that make it a Lexi? Would that become the greatest car known to man? Or would it just become a giant, money-gobbling monster and suck up your moneys, like those characters you play in games that the money sucks into you when you get close to it? I don't understand...

What would happen when I crashed into the back of a Lexus is I would go to jail.

And, I found the reminder feature on my phonetime, so that's dangerous, because I like to talk to myself. But I don't like to relisten to it, because I hate my ignorance and my stupid-sounding voice. I'm pretty assuming that's why no one at work takes me seriously, because I sound like some sort of court jester, but without that shitty hat. I hate that thing.

Ok, so TODAY. Wait. What did I need to say? Was it about yoga? No, but I need to....make an appointment, I mean, not talk about it. I can't talk about things I don't know, but watch me.

Oh, yeah, I got it now. So, we've been having a problem with recovery not faxing up our xray orders, so we can put them into the computer, so we can process our xrays. I've said something about it several times, but no one ever listens to me, but we've already established that. So, I emailed THE APPROPRIATE PERSON, who's in charge of recovery, told her we were still having issues, and also mentioned that there were people wandering around the OR with no identification on. And, it doesn't matter if it's a med student or an anesthesia student, everyone is supposed to have a badge, right? Correct me if I'm wrong on this. Oh wait, you can't. That's why I have a blog and type on it in random sentences is because you can't stop me so ha.

Anyway, MY BOSS says this morning, IN FRONT OF A STRANGER, ANOTHER EMPLOYEE AND JESUS, that from now on, if I have a problem with something, I need to go through him.

?????

Why? Because I can't speak english? Or, because I'm doing cartwheels while I say things? I'm confused...if I'm talking to the proper person, what's the problem?

So, later on, I told him, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to get anyone in trouble. But we're still having a problem with that." Him: "No, we're not." Me: "????? Yes...we ARE."

I wasn't aware that he shot all the recovery films. I seem to find myself down there from time to time, but maybe I'm just dreaming it up.

So, then he says, "well, that's not your concern. You need to worry about Jennifer and getting Jennifer to work on time."

..........................

Wha.............?

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Did I just...hear those words? Did I....was I making up words in my head and making him say them? What the hell just happened? Did anyone get the number of that refrigerator?

Ok, so let's break this down, because I LOVE to over-analyze things, because it just gets me even more riled up. Especially when people are in the wrong.

Number 1.
What?

Number 2.
We're NOT having a problem? Seriously, are we ALL delusional then?

Number 3.
So, something in which I'm obviously involved and take part...DOESN'T concern me? Seriously? I'm being serious now. Did you just say it DOESN'T???? So, wait. What you're saying is basically that NOTHING concerns me. Ever. At work. So shut the hell up. Hmmmmm........ That.....I'm lost there.

Number 4.
What does "Jennifer getting to work on time" have to do ANYTHING with getting orders from recovery in a timely manner? Am I....is this related, and I'm just not seeing it??????????

Number 5.
What the FUCK are you talking about???!?!!!???

So, then he says, "you just need to tell me." Me: "But you don't take me seriously!" Him: "I always take you seriously." Me: "NO. You NEVER take me seriously."

So, I just walk away at this point, because I'm pretty sure it was swollen and red. You could have popped a vein with a pin.

And, I know that he thinks that I'm a raving lunatic.......because I HAVE to be a raving lunatic for him to LISTEN TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Drama queen IS in my job description for life and in my blood, but seriously...do you really think I'm saying these things just to make work HARDER????? I'm SOOOOOOOOOOO confused.

So, I asked several, um, X's (not ex-boyfriends - these are anonymous peoples), and they all said, "it's because you went over his head; it's because you stepped on his toes; it's because he doesn't like to be the boss; it's because he doesn't like to manage; it's because he's a crappy manager; it's because he's embarrassed...."

Seriously, these are serious remarks. Just because I don't understand.

As for calling me out in front of other people, do you know that he does that to NO ONE BUT ME????????? WHY does he challenge me in front of others? It's because he likes to use that "well, I COULD write you up, but I'm doing you some sort of sick favor by not managing" card out on me...IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. I'd be LESS inclined to be freaking out at this point, except that WHY IS IT ME????? Derrick says it's because I won't shut up. So, he just LIKES to fight? Is that it? Join a damn UFC team! Be the boss of you! Boss other people around! Take personal jabs at them!

But, it's also because he's an EXTREME chauvinist. And, when I say extreme, I can't really make that word big enough. Women are totally inferior to him. Not just men, but HIM in particular. Women should be barefoot and pregnant in front of the stove, and if you didn't get supper ready in time, you better get ready for the stoning of your life, and I don't mean weed. I literally picture him as a big giant boot, poised and ready to step on you (any woman). And, this is after almost four years of knowing this guy!

It's CONSTANT banter about how women are inferior and stupid and retarded and you should not complain, because any complaints that come out of a woman's mouth are automatically labelled as bitching and nagging. But men can say what they like, well...because they're MEN! Yay, men! No women voters! Women are why there is war and trouble in the world!

I know you think I'm shitting you, but I'm not. I can read people pretty good, and I HEAR all his little under comments, and I GET all his side remarks, and I UNDERSTAND his subliminal implications and inferences.

.......................................................................................

I'm going to stop for a minute. Because I'm coming a little bit down off this medicine, plus I've really upset myself.

And, now my last apartment complex is on my ass about paying for $1400 worth of damages and bills, and I haven't the slightest. I called to talk to the lady yesterday, and she was SO hateful and got me SOOOO worked up, that I told her to fuck off at the end of our conversation and hung up on her.

I know you people don't REEEEEEEEEEALLLLLLY know me. But, for me to get THAT MAD, that I tell a complete stranger to fuck off? Yeah, that's pretty bad. Think what you must, that I'm a whore or a bad person or...some...other type of bad thing. But, this lady was SUCH A BITCH, that she wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise. She threatened me, and ME, being in as much debt as I used to be, have NEVER had a creditor threaten me. Plus, I've always been extraordinarily cooperative with every one of them....until they start calling me at work. THEN, I get pretty mad. But, even then, I don't curse.

This woman...oh my GOD, the shit she was saying to me, saying they were going to destroy my credit, to which my response was, "it's too late, my credit's already IN the crapper, so you've got nothing there." Her: "Well, you'll be upset when they start garnishing your wages!" Me: "Whatever. Do what you have to do. I know regardless of what I say (I'm screaming OVER her at this point, STILL talking, not letting me talk), you guys are going to get my money anyway, because it's WHAT YOU DO. YOU RIP PEOPLE OFF." She kept saying that I didn't turn in a 30-day notice to move, which is a bald-faced lie. I was on CRUTCHES and took the notice in. She said, "well, did anyone sign it??!?" Me: "For the love of God, NO! No one has EVER signed my notice, in ALLLLLLLL the times I've been living in apartments!" Her: "WELL, HOW DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN YOU TURNED IT IN??????" Me: "SO I'M IN CHARGE OF THE OFFICE, NOW???? WAS I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING PAYROLL, TOO??????"

It completely turned into a screaming match. She was NOTHING but hateful. She couldn't say ONE thing in a decent tone.

And, her name was Rosemarie, and she sounded like a man.

And, I don't care for her very much. She goes probably third of my "Wouldn't Piss on If Was on Fire" list.

So, I paced around a bunch, scared the cats, ran up and down the stairs twice and tried very hard to settle down. When I did(n't), I called back and told the operator, "I want to talk to ANYONE ELSE IN THE BUILDING besides Rosemarie. I don't care if you connect me to the janitor." Her: "Oooookay...anyone but Rosemarie........so, she's the one assigned to your account?.....Oooooooo.....hmmm.......well, I guess I can connect you to her supervisor?...uh oh, but she's already left for the day. You could leave a message if you like?" Me: "Do that."

So, I waited, left a quite detailed and angry message, but not cursing at this woman, telling her that I KNOW they don't give a rat's tail about their so-called "customers" but that woman needs to have her rear-end put in place, and that I KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO GET MY MONEY REGARDLESS, but that there was NO WAY in ice cold hell would I go through this woman for ANYTHING, and if she'd call me back, I'd set up a payment plan, but it would only be for like $25 a month, because I, too, have other "LIFE obligations," and I wasn't going to let them bleed me dry for no damn reason, to please call me back, and thank you.

Ok, maybe I cursed a little.

For real, yo. It takes a LOT to push my buttons, but if you push the right ones, you'll get to see...and it's usually when it gets personal like that, threatening me that their lawyers would come after me. Do it! Send them! What will they get? Sure, here's a bunch of junk, a tore up Dyson vacuum cleaner and a ghetto car! Hope you enjoy! Oh, blood, too??? First born???? WHAT ELSE TO SHUT YOU FUCKERS UP???????

Let me pause here and just mention that another reason this has brought me to the apex of anger is because I just GOT OUT of serious debt...and now, I'm going back in?


I squalled my eyes out forEVER. I called Heather. I called Dave. I bitched. I ran answering machines to the end. I cried some more. I scared the cats. I cried some more.

Eventually, I ran out. I figured, what the hell? I mean, whatever's going to happen is going to happen. It's totally in God's hands now (those of you who are atheists and agnostics can gag now). I'm not going to do ANYTHING but roll with the flow.

Right now, I'm focused on other things. Work, which I'm hating more every day. I've been going with a friend to his AA meetings, because I'm about HELPING people, not SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF THEM.

Also, it's really put a pause on the whole Peace Corps thing. I keep telling myself that once EVERYTHING gets paid off, I'm outta here - boyfriend, husband or not. I'll meet who I'm supposed to meet. I'll have kids if I'm supposed to have them.

But I think that was one of the biggest things that really pissed me off.

More debt.

I know "everyone has debt," blah, blah, blah, but you know what? That's why I've been working so damn hard to get OUT of mine! Because it WAS my debt, but now it's not! Because I DID IT! But, now there's more??? What's next?????

*sigh*





I have to go, because I don't want to talk or type anymore. Please, if you have crude comments to make, save them, because I can honestly say, I DON'T care. I've gotten dragged down enough in the past couple of weeks, that I REALLY don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to know what you think of me. I don't want to hear what you think I should do. I don't WANT advice.

I'm a grown woman. And, I'm strong-willed. And, I WILL do what I want, no matter what you say. But, thank you for your concern - I WILL treasure it. Seriously. I appreciate the caring, but I don't always care for the advice. If I want it, I SWEAR to all that is holy that I WILL ask. I don't ask for help a lot, but I will, if I desperately need it.

Please heed my advice. And, thank you for your concern.

Please just keep me in your thoughts, and that will be enough. I pray for my own patience, and I am indeed tested and usually fail miserably, but that's mine alone.


Ok, someone has showed up with offerings of presents and food, so I must go. Because I like those things, and they make me happy, and I sorta need that today, right now.

So, um, thank you and good night.

&=)

"Some opportunites are meant to be missed."

I've been having a hell of a time lately, with birthdays and guys and work and things, and it's really started to get the best of me. I made a pretty pitiful video yesterday about how I'm sick of always having to get up, brush myself off, and move past the absolute crap I go through or put myself through. But, blogger won't upload it, so oh well. Maybe you shouldn't see it.

Anyway, I've recently come into contact with someone from my past. It's someone I don't remember, but he believes he remembers me.

And, he wants to meet me for coffee.

Of course, I've completely trashed this idea because I'm terrified that he's just going to be "the next victim," and I really don't feel like hurting someone, along with myself.

So, what to do?

Next logical step: email Heather.

Though I can't post my own letter, I wanted to share hers. I don't know where she came from, but she's wise beyond her years.

She really should have gone into psychology, because she has such an incredibly profound insight on every single thing I've ever had a question about.

Enough stalling. Here it is:

I have one question, if you will give every obviously wrong loser a chance, why won't you give someone who seems to be alot like you (which, just last night you told me you wanted) a chance too?? I thought alot about what you said last night about why do you (we) do the things we do when we know better? and just like you said in your email here, I figured out the conclusion but not at the time we needed it! I think you would take a chance on something you know is total wrong for you because every chance could be something you "missed". just like you said here. Thing is, if it's an obvious alarming situation, meaning one that sets the sirens loose in your head from the get-go, like the one with xxxxx...it may mean that it's a chance you NEED to miss. We are driven by our "what if" mentality. and when we have a chance to do the global outpouring of ideas that we do sometimes, I would like to show you something very interesting in my ADD workbook about that. and it wasn't even in the "emotionally accepting the fact that you're screwed up" section.

Summary: Some opportunites are meant to be missed. Don't let what was ALMOST a dicey decision keep you from taking chances that you that could be good for you.

Have coffee with xxxxx (a separate person from above). Nothing wrong with coffee in the light of day. and do your worst!! lay it out. pick your nose. berate the barrista for not knowing if the milk used came from non-hormone-injected cows or not. re-enact the veteran in the grocery store on new years' eve. But give him a chance to love it or leave it. Because in THIS case, you never know what might happen.

PS: and he's hot.

PSS: that's not the reason you should go to coffee.

I love you Schmoopy! I'm around my house today. Lee and the boys went to Atlanta. I'm going to see if Courtney will let Sophie sleep over tonight so we can go and celebrate your birth. Because I'm still glad you were born, silly.

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE YOU!!

Miggity Mack

She really should be writing "how-to" books on living life.

And, me...who knows what I'm here for?


Seriously. If anyone knows, please apprise me, because once again, I'm totally and completely lost. Nothing new. Feels just like home.

Happy Birthday to me...

...now get me the fuck out of here.



I hate watching myself cry.

the pitfalls? meet my reasons.

Ok, I really need to be doing some work on my blog. I wish I would keep up with it better. I've been so busy lately, at work and outside of work.

I actually can't write long now, because I need to jump in the shower, and Ryan is coming over. He's the guy I'm dating now. I would use the term "flavor of the week," but that's so crude and brash. *Ick* It gave me shivers just saying it right there.

But, hell, you never know if things are going to work out or not, you know?

I got to go get my Erica today after work! I got her after class and took her with me to do some running around. She's so funny - she got in the car and IMMEDIATELY launched into a full-on description on everything that's been going on, including the events of the day. I love to listen to her talk! I'm so glad I'm so close to her - only like 10 min away.

So, we ran some errands, picked her up a couple of things for school, then we went back to her dorm for me to install Microsoft Office. She had to have it to open up some class programs...AND she's already got a ton of homework.

You know, I don't miss being an undergrad, but I DO miss school.

Ok, well, today at work, we started talking about recycling in the city (and outside), and apparently that's my "hot button" issue! &=D I don't think I knew that! We got into a really heated discussion about the inefficiency of our city government (yes, this is slander - sue me). So, somehow, I ended up on the Green Team at work (ohhhhh, they're going to fucking hate me, and I'm not EVEN kidding), I sent a letter along with questions and a request to volunteer with the Green Resource Center here in town, and I'm going to see if I can possibly meet with the Recycling Coordinator of the Alabama Environmental Council.


??????????????????

What just happened to me? What sort of vortex did I fall through, where I just became a civic activist?

Whatever. I guess this is it. I guess this is how it all begins. I'm hoping that it ends with me in the Peace Corps or an equally respective volunteer organization. My idea, though, is scary to just about everyone.

I want to meet someone, whom I can marry, who loves me for me, and who has similar desires and interests. I want he and I to join said organization and travel the world, helping others and raising a family.

Go ahead and cringe. Give me a hard time about how I'm "taking my children's childhoods away." Tell me about how much danger in which I'm putting my family. Tell me how horrible I would be to "raise them in poverty."

And, I can PROMISE you, I have rebuttals to all of your concerns.

Taking my child's childhood away....
That's funny, actually. I'm taking away my child's "American Dream" childhood. I'm giving them something totally different, something SO MUCH MORE substantial. I'm taking away something that our cush American society has driven into our minds as being "normal." You know, things don't occur the same way everywhere on the planet, right? I know that's difficult to grasp, because what do you mean "other places????" I thought the United States WAS the world!!!!

*shakes head & sighs*

The issue of danger
We're in just as much danger here, of being shot by a crazy person, as if we went anywhere else on earth. No, I'm not traipsing right off to Iraq or whatnot. I don't want to be in danger any more than I want my own flesh and blood to be in danger. Besides, I DO have the faith that no matter what, God will take care of us, and whatever happens is God's will. There's no such thing as "tempting fate." Fate is a proposed concept by humans. God's will is God's will.

For those of you who don't believe, I AM truly sorry if you don't understand what I'm saying. I've never blamed any of my problems on God or Satan, but I do believe that what happens is predetermined, and I'm just following the path I was always meant to follow.

Anyway, I would give my life to save my family. Even my "extended family." I would never even give it a second thought. And, if any of you truly know me, you know how difficult it would be to get through me to someone I love.

Raising my children in poverty
Well, guess what? Poverty exists. You just think it's horrible and disgusting, because you don't see it every day. Most people couldn't give a shit either way, and that's so selfish to me. I want to WORK with those people, side-by-side. I want my children to KNOW there is suffering in the world, but there are things we can do to CHANGE it. Someone has to be there to do the actual physical labor that has to be done, and I want to be that person. I want my children to live and breathe benevolence. I want THEM to be the ones who can carry on the change, when I no longer can. I want to raise them with an innocent sense of pride that they were able, through God's love and work, to make the world just a tiny bit better. What better way to teach than to experience?
No, Lord Jesus, I'm not going to have them living in complete squalor. When you volunteer with these programs, they try as best they can to take care of you. The Peace Corps doesn't put their volunteers in danger. I would never raise my children in a place where I would have absolutely no access to proper health care. I would never make them live in rags and eat with the flies. But those are the kinds of constant dilemmas we need to help remedy!

Are we just perpetuating these people & their scenarios?
I don't know.

Why has this neediness gone on for so many years?
Because there's always a need for help. There are thousands of children, wanted and unwanted, being born every day. The messages aren't always clear. Sometimes people revert back to their old ways. Easily preventable diseases can come through and bring an entire village to it's knees. WHO REALLY KNOWS?

Why not stay in the States?
Because to be perfectly candid with you, I don't like it here. The selfishness, egocentricity, and hedonistic attitudes of the majority of the people I meet here just does NOT sit well with me.

But, I dream about it!...To live in a town, in a house, WITH the people of whatever country, experience what they experience, teach them anything you can, learn as much as they can give you, make the same minimal wages as them, and work with other volunteers to make their lives better - how rewarding is that?????

Ok, maybe not to you, but it certainly is to me.

*Incompleted*

Anyone else want a chance?

It's been a while since I wrote. I know.

But right now, I just wanted to share this.

I got an email from some guy on a dating website, who had this to say:

It would be hypocritical of you to admonish people who hunt if you're not a complete vegetarian.

And, this was my reply:

I guess that's a good thing we're not dating then, so you don't have to date a hypocrite.

As if people like you would give a rat's ass, I'm ovolactovegetarian, which means I only eat eggs and milk, and that's only because they're in other products, not because I CHOOSE to. As I'm sure you WOULDN'T know, it's very hard to go complete vegan in a country such as this.

It's also kind of me be it that I don't FORCE my beliefs or my lifestyle on other people like you do. I figure it's my way of life, I'd like to keep it that way.

But I'm sure you're ALSO that kind of person who thinks all vegans/vegetarians have the attitude that we're somehow better than others. Well, guess what? That's not true either!

So, there we go! I've dispelled all the myths about vegetarians in one fell swoop! Oh, except the one about when you assume you know ANYTHING about vegetarians, that we become complete raging bitches - that one was true.


I love railing people after a hard day at work. Especially people I deem it necessary to deserve my wrath. Especially when my wrist hurts.

Some friendly advice? Don't ever date a vegetarian, dude. You'll just be looking at a lifetime of sleeping on the couch.

Thankfully, this asshole won't be asking for my number anytime soon. Gotta weed 'em out.

Dictationer needed (not dictator)

Ok, so I can't type very long, because I have a cast on my right arm, a nd it makes typing very difficult. Anyway, so I have this thumb spica cast on my arm and I had evrey intentionj of undating but now it seems thats out of the question...

Crap. Crap very much.

And, there's SOOOOO much stuff I want to say, BUT I CANT!!! you know what? I should get o ne of those talkey programs that dictates as you talk. I've got a lot of Valley Girl slash goofy slash slang talk. Slash probably some other things i n there as well.

*Incompleted*

YES, it's all about me...and my wrist.

Frig.

This is going to be long, so you'll have to take breaks and go pee and get lunch and go to bed and work and all that, but it will be well worth it...I think. Hell, I don't know. Only if you like reading about me and my escapades and illnesses.

Whatev.

Ok, so when I barfed up all my rice and V8 soup I made (two wks ago), when I got sick, I was scrambling to get down the stairs, and I fell. I caught myself, but I landed harder on my right wrist.

THEN, the next day, when it was coming out the *ahem* "other end," I had to do the same thing, and guess what?

I FELL, AGAIN!

Yes, on my right wrist. You think I wanted to even it out? Hellz, NO!

Then, this past weekend, I was going to throw Jammy's favorite ball across the room, and when I pitched it with my right arm (stupid), when my arm completely extended, I HEARD and FELT (felt and heard?) an AUDIBLE POP. Yo, let me tell you, that put me on the ground. It hurt so badly, I thought I was going to pass out. So, I crawled back to the bed (I'm having Déjà vu - have I already told you guys this story? Oh, well, sit back and shut up) and palpated (felt around) to see if I had anything broken. When I pushed around on it, it was fine. But, if I extended my arm at all, my hand and wrist were freaking out.
So's, I called my doctor buddy to ask him to take a look at it on Monday, because it was SERIOUSLY hurting, like really, really bad pain, tingling, numbness, etc... In the meantime, though, he said he wanted me to get a wrist x-ray, or more specifically, a scaphoid view. He said it could be fractured, but I told him I didn't feel anything (possibly because of the numbness?).


So, I spent all weekend with my palm on my chest, like I'm doing the friggin' pledge of allegiance or something. Everywhere I went, people are like, "um, can I...help you, or something?" Hell, no, I don't want help! Not from you, Mr. Nice Stranger Who Could Be a Serial Killah! BYAH!!!!

Seriously, though, I kept bumping people off, because I didn't really need help. Seven sacks of groceries will fit nicely into my retarded curved arm, thank you.

Ok, for serious, I really was ok.

Oh, EXCEPT for the horrible pain.


By the way, I'm sorry I've got this weird attitude and "Valley Girl" thing going on ("Ok, ok, like, this one time....."), but I'm just in a great mood today, despite the searing pain. I guess I need to be more in touch with my "Valley Girl" within, and THEN I can get a date.

Somehow, though, the prospect of what I would attract DOES NOT appeal to me at all.

Gross. Now, I have "dumb, fall-for-a-pretty-face, do-anything-for-big-tits, will-hit-that-sweet-ass, only-thinks-with-his-trunk guy" all over me. Ugh. I need some Viraguard or something to bathe in. I feel icky.


ANYWAY, back to my hand. So, weekend goes by...meh, it's ok; no better, no worse. I make it through Monday (and x-ray my hand - no fracture), and it's starting to hurt a little more.

What the crap? Time is passing! It's supposed to be getting better!

&=(

Tuesday rolls around, and I get to hang out with one of my regular surgeons downstairs, *Dr. K*. I tell him about the situation, and he tells me to bring him the x-ray. He looks; no fracture. He pokes and prods, no real biggie. So, he brings me a "thumb immobilizer" and tells me to wear it, that it's going to keep my thumb still enough to heal, because I've probably just bruised a ligament.

Alright, whatev.

(Btw, that thing is a BITCH to work in. Just thought I'd throw that in.)


So, TODAY rolls around, and this sucker is KILLING me. The whole day, I was doing the pledge of allegiance AND wearing the splint. Finally, I started feeling this burning chafe where my hand has been hurting (incidentally, it's on the palm, that whole part under my thumb and INTO my wrist), so I take the brace off. It stops.

Hmm, that's weird...there's no chafing there. It's not even the slightest bit red. So, I move my hand, stretch it, twist my wrist, etc, etc, then I reach for the mouse at my computer.

*BLAM-O*

Burning and pain SHOOT through my hand and into my wrist.

"Oh, my God." I pull my hand up to my chest (pledging). My friend is working today, but not until 2p, so I'll just have to wait.


JEEBUS, was today the longest day in history, or was it just my hand's imagination?

So, my buddy gets to the OR, I run down and show him, he pushes on it, palpates it, "Does this hurt? Does this hurt? Do this. Does this hurt?" No's and yes's, nothing major.

We walk into his OR room, and I stick my hand under the c-arm, just so he can manipulate it under x-ray and see what he can see (oh, say can you see...anyone? Anyone?). The whole time, I'm talking to the people in the room, pushing the button on the hand controller when he tells me to, he's poking it, pushing my CARPAL BONES around (haha, that reminds me of the "carbal ant" - 'nother story). "Turn it over. Push against my hand. Does this hurt? How about this? Straighten your thumb..." I'm not paying the least bit of attention to what he's doing. I'm running my mouth, as usual.

THEN, he says, "Ok, I'm going to (in the slow, deep, scary, movie voice) PULL TRACTION ON IT."

Alright, it was actually in his regular voice, but after what happened, that's all I can remember.

I took my stance, I stretched my arm out, he took me by the wrist, and pulled ONLY SLIGHTLY.



I shot straight through the roof. I screamed, out loud, in a surgery room, slapped him about 10x on his arm, and was jumping around with my wrist in my mouth...all in about the span of 5 seconds. I was actually embarrassed, because it was so loud.


OH...MY CRAP.

Tears started welling up in my eyes, and everyone was like, "Omg, what's wrong??! What happened?!?!!" He told them what happened, and they were all suddenly looking at me like it was my funeral.

"Well," I thought, "this can't be good." My wrist was THROBBING, or as people down here say it, THOBBING. I think it was doing both, I don't quite remember. All I knew is that son hurt, and I was seeing blinking stars. I said, "Omg, I'm SOOOO sorry I hit you!!!!," and he said, "Um, it's ok. I'm going to, um, page *young Dr M*." (I never know if these docs want their names to be used, so I like to be a bit discreet. Btw, you should have SEEN the dump I took the other day...)

"What?!?? What for?!!? What's wrong with it??!"

That doc never called back, so my friend said, "Well, I'm going to go ahead and see if I can get you in for an arthrogram and an MRI," which is part of my department, actually.

But, when he said the word "arthrogram," I almost started to cry.

"An ARTHROGRAM???? WHY??!?! No way. No effing way am I doing that."

To shorten the dialogue (yeah, right), back in the day, when I worked at Kirklin, I had a shoulder arthrogram. It was done by a very professional, very good doctor. But, apparently, since it was being done on an employee, and I had specifically requested him, he was very nervous, and um...let's just say, I've always promised myself I'd never have another arthrogram...in my lifetime...while I was alive...and had an ounce of fight in me.

No offense to the doc or anything, but that was THE worst procedure I've ever gone through. I'd rather have 27 colonoscopies, 18 endoscopes, and 3 more knee surgeries, before I ever did that again (no pilonidal cysts, though: refer to first post ever). It was pretty traumatic. Heather knows. She was there. She was my tech...who put cold cloths on my forehead...stroked my hair...talked to me...and held my puke bucket.


SO.
As much as I fought and begged and almost cried, he said I had to do it, because he thinks I might have torn something important and might have to have surgery (this part I missed the first time around, but he says he said it).

Sweet.


Because I have beaucoups (again, bookoos) of time off. To use popular 90's vernacular - NOT.

I used every bit of it up while my family was here, and I wouldn't take it back for the world. I was so thankful to have them here!


ANYWAY, BACK TO MY WRIST!!


He went and told another doctor about my sich (haha, that's from this decade! Probably yesterday!), an old, crotchety doc that I worked with at TKC, *old Dr. M,* so *old Dr. M" found me in the OR hallway and started poking around on my wrist. I said, "Don't pull it, or I'll slap you."

"Don't worry. I won't.......*poke poke turn poke push poke mash poke ow mash harder I SAID OW*.......but, let's go ahead with the arthrogram and MRI."

"WHAT??! Are all you people just against me?? WHY DO YOU HATE ME????"


Yes, I enjoy my volunteer job as a drama queen, what of it?


And, as he walked away, he said, "You're welcome. Let me know when it's been dictated."

I stood there, mouth agape. &=O



So, I talked to my friend this afternoon:
"Did you talk to him??? Did you put him up to that??" &=(
"Oh! Yeah, good, did he find you?"
"YES. And, he told me I have to do the tests!" &=(
"Well, because you need them."
*mumbles* "No, I don't." &=(
"AND, *Dr M* would be pretty good to do your surgery (I'm flipping out on the other end), if you need it."
"SURGERY??!?!" &=(
"Did you not hear me this afternoon? (apparently I didn't) Jennifer, if you've torn something, it's going to have to be fixed."
*I'm whining and bitching on the other end* &=(
"Of course, if there's no tear on the MRI, he may just put you in a cast."
"WHAT?? A CAST??!?! A PLASTER ONE????? FOR HOW LONG??????"
(This has not boded well for me at all. I'm very disappointed, yet guarded, about my wrist.) &=(
"NO. Not a plaster one. A fiberglass one, and it will probably be for about six weeks."
"SIX WEEKS!?!??! ARE YOU SERIOUS??? Are you serious, or are you just playing with me? Be serious, dude. I'm really scared." &=(
"I am being serious. I really think you've done something. It's bruised, ripped, or torn. It could be your 'blah-blah' ligament or your 'such-n-such' something or another, and it's not going to get any better with you in that splint."

&=(

God, I'm a total fuss-budget today. Even through all that, I managed to have a good day. &=(

And, you know what else? When I got home, I immediately dropped my bag on the floor, my keys on the counter and made myself some STAT s'mores. Because I needed them. &=)

Then, my blood sugar sky-rocketed and everyoneelsediedsotherewasnoarthrogramtheend. &=(




No. I sat down to write this blag. And, I write for you, through the pain of my hand and the throbilization of my wrist, because I know it ain't gettin' any better right now. I'm going to be holding my allegiance to the flag all the rest of this week AND the weekend. Monday afternoon is my test. I made Robbie, our MRI tech (Sharon, I'm sending prayers and good healing your way!!! Come back soon!!!), schedule me with a certain VERY, VERY good radiologist, *Dr. L*, because I am scared shitless to do this again. Seriously. I'm already starting to have diarrhea about it, and you guys know how I am about my nerves. &=(

I mean, having a pain block is one thing. Sure, they stick a needle into your back/ass, but they also give you a cocktail of Versed and God-only-knows what else. You can't even remember your name or to close your mouth because you're drooling. &=P

Having a needle stuck into an extremity, while you're totally awake, looking on?????? Not fun. I'm so scared. I've already started rubbing the skin on the tops of my feet raw, because I've been rubbing my feet together (another cool thing I do when I'm nervous or fidgety). &=(

One doc told me he could write me a scrip for Valium to take before I go in. &=(

You know what? I'm super-claustrophobic (I almost had a come-apart at the Piggly-Wiggly yesterday), but I can deal better in the MRI tube than I think I can this! They know just to put a cloth over my eyes and play some classical music, and I'm cool as a cucumber. Omg. I'll have to remember my CD on Monday. &=(

PLUS, I've got PT on Friday, I've GOT to clean this wreck of an apartment (that I'm not moving out of), and my belly dancing classes start August 8. &=) I AM happy about that. But, I do NOT want to be dancing around with an effing cast on my arm, so &=(. (ew. from here, it looks like I have a zit on my chin.)

Grawr. AND, Slipknot's coming August 12, and I wanted to give that to myself for my birthday, since I'll officially be SUPER-OLD this year, but I'm not sure now. I sure ain't gettin' in the mosh pit with a bright pink cast on my arm. I'm just kidding. I'll get some sort of depressing color, like grey, or vomit, since that's what started this whole mess. Actually, it's Carpeted Stairs fault, but I'm NOT talking to him anymore. Jerk. &=(

I'm still pissed that I'm not getting to go on the road trip to Canada. I wanted to see some hot Canucks, eh! &=)

Still, I would like to have someone petting me and babying me right now. I hate doing it all myself. It feels weird, you know, spooning yourself at night. It's starting to creep out the girls... &=(


ALRIGHTY! I'm done here. It's 10 or 11 something, FAR past my bedtime, my wrist is on fire, I need my meds, my mushy cold pack, South Park and sleepytime, in that specific order. &=\

Damn. I am demanding. Oh well. Someone out there wouldn't have it any other way. *sigh* &=\


Goodnight, my pookies. I'll update as long as I can type.

De gerbil?

Dirigible.

I like that word.

–noun

1.	an airship.

–adjective

2.	designed for or capable of being directed, controlled, or steered.

—Related forms

dir·i·gi·bil·i·ty, noun

You have dirigibility.

And, you're touching me with it. &=(


Dirigible.



Dirigible, dirigible, dirigible.


I wish I had one.

A dirigible.

And a gerbil.

Phil (raises glass), this one's for you

I found an old post that I wanted to do, but for some reason didn't.

Anyway, here it is, unreread, unedited, and apparently uncensored:



June 20, 2008
You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you...



The title of the list was, "Hey, it's ok...."

The last item on the list was, "...to skip the whole 'I hope we can still be friends' charade. You have friends."

I'm glad someone exists out there who is objective enough to justify my feelings.


Stop trying to keep up with me. Stop talking to my best friend. Stop trying to BE my friend. Stop reading my blog, if that's what you're doing. If you don't want to have anything to do with me, then just stop. I wanted you in my life, but you betrayed me, by using any of my verified weaknesses to get what you wanted from me. And, THAT is what makes you an ass.

I loved you. I still do, unfortunately. I was willing to put aside my "ridiculous standards" and just love you for you, but it didn't happen that way.

"Did you think we were going to just fall back into this?"

Yeah, I guess I did, and that's what makes me stupid. I admit it. This was ALL MY FUCKING FAULT, ok? I thought you still had feelings for me. I thought you'd be able to forgive me for some of/all the horrible things I said and did. Yeah, I have an excuse - I was going through a divorce. And, yeah, you DON'T know what you had until it's gone.

Sure, I would have loved to have married you, had kids with you, traveled the world with you. I had actual "fantasies" about it. I remember the time you and I were laying on the bed, and I told you I had decided to join the Peace Corps. Tears were running down your face, and you said, "can I go with you?"

That was one of the sweetest moments I've ever experienced.


(Oh, yeah, and that time you left that sweet card on my car while I was at work...)


Anyway, now I ponder why you must have said that...but I don't think I'd like to reveal my conclusions.

Sure, I have a slight problem that your religious affiliation isn't the same as mine...but I realize now that it doesn't mean that you and I don't share the same morals and ethics. It took me a little bit of time to realize that. THAT, AGAIN, WAS MY ERROR.


You were the sweetest, kindest soul I'd ever met. I enjoyed being with you. You were never mean to me. I fought being in love with you. And, yes, I wanted to fall back into that, with everything in place. I wanted to BE in love with you this time. I wanted to give you everything you deserved.

I'd always been a late bloomer. Once again, in my life, I'm too late.



But that was no reason to use me like that. I could never imagine doing that to you. And, after I said that, your argument would be, "but you used me for ________ (fill in the blank) after your divorce." Yeah, but you know what? I actually LIKED you, and I DID feel a connection. Now that I think about it, it must have just been indigestion from what was to come.

I did come to love you, almost immediately. You were like no one I had ever dated, but I thought you were wonderful. I'm a doomsayer. I'm used to people leaving. I've told you this WHOLE STORY before. I'm afraid for someone to leave, so I try to leave first. I'm always afraid of being used. I'm afraid of being cheated on. And, I tried so many times to talk myself out of you being you.

The fact of the matter is you are you...or at least you were when I knew you. I'm sorry I messed things up. I'm sorry if I fucked YOU up. I fucked up, ok?

HEY, WORLD! I FUCKED UP!!!!!!

You're absolutely right! I SHOULD get "Royal Gigantic Fuck-Up" tattooed on my forehead! It'll go right below the sign over my head that blinks "Only Dates Jerks!," and is visible only to male assholes, because that's all I get!

But, yeah, you're right. You get what you deserve, huh?


Well, I didn't deserve that. And, I hate that you thought I did. Things have changed in a year. A LOT of things. I've grown up. I've mellowed out. All I want now is for someone to love me for me, and let me do the same for him. I want to throw my entire being into another person. But I want it to be someone who loves me.

I know I've made mistakes, and I'm going to KEEP making mistakes. But all I can do is ask for forgiveness and keep from making the same mistakes in the future. You didn't even give me a chance, but I do wish you would have.

I'm sorry for what happened between us. Hell, I'm sorry it ended. I still love you, and I wish I could get that part removed. One day, though, it will go away. Just like it did with Aaron.

Ha - now you ARE my Aaron.

I bet you can't wait for someone else to have to come and clean up after you.

Or, yeah. That's right. You probably just don't care. I don't blame you, though. I tried desperately to move beyond you, but my thoughts always returned to you. So many things I experienced in my life, and I wished you could have been there.

Tell your family I'm sorry. I know I was hateful. And, I am truly remorseful.

And you. I hope you already know that I'm sorry. But I can't make you feel what you don't feel.


Best of luck with your life, and I suggest you be a little more careful with peoples' emotions. I can say that, because I feel as though I was your latest victim. I can also say that, because I used to be a pro at that. Can people change? I don't see why not. I used to be an awesome liar, and now I just can't. I don't want to. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I just want love. I guess that's all I've ever wanted for a while now, but I still fought it. I wanted someone to emotionally fight for me. I wanted someone to hold me close, even though I fought to get away. I've always been a runner. And, I guess I needed a chaser who was fast enough to catch me...

mitskaes and all

Um, hey.

I haven't written in a really lnog time.

I haven't really wanted to.

Also, Ijhave a splint on my right hand, so I can't type wery well, so I'm just going to leaveall my mistakes, ok>? Because i don't want todo all that backspacing and crap today.

Deal.

My family came to town. Sabrina and greg came from Seattle, and Cressie, Grinell, and Ji Xia came from Cali. We've all been hanging out, we went to the lakehouse (The Perch_), I tried to get internet up there onb my laptop to no avail, and we had Gram's 85th bday party/cookout this past weekend. Omg, I twas killer. As Spongebob wpuld say, "it was the greatest party EVAAAAA!!!!" We had a really good time, and I think she did too, which is all that mattered to me. Oh, and we got to talk to Bob, Alice and Olive on Skypem, wich is also killer.

Anyway, I'mll delve into allov this later. My hand is really tired and hurting, as are my neck and shoulders. I'm running low on funds, and i'm about to sign another six month lease on my place, because i have jn't been able to find another place in the hey that;'s been the summer.

I hope everyone is well. I'm ok. Just lonely, as usual. I know that completely amplifies my depression and pain. And, you know what? That sucks.

*sigh* *as usual*


I'm together. I'm all pulled togehtehr. All my strings aare tied - they're just seriously frayed. God, I'm stired. And, I'm having seirous muscle spasms, adn the skelaxin they gave me DOES NOT WORK. I'm just immune toallmeds and susceptible toall injuries and illnesses. I wish I could agree with everyone that I'm just a hypochondriac, but if you FELT the pain I feel (or was as clumsy as I am), you would seriously be bitching way more than I EVER let on anymore.

I'm just going to have to force myself toput it on God, because I can't do it. But I have tol. And, Iwill. And, I'll be damned if I'm still going to join the Peace Corps or something of a similar nature - pain and suffering be damned. There are people out there who are starving to death or dying because of disease. I think I could manage to help someone else out, coming from my privleged American life.

One rant and I'm out:

This shit is hurting so badly, I feel like I'm going to pass out.



But, don't tell anyone.

*shhhhhhhhhhhhh*

Ever wondered....?

Have you ever seen the inside of a puppy mill?

Me neither, except through pictures:

*Incompleted*

Me? Really?

Heather says every time she hears this song, it reminds her of me. Now if I could just find a man who thinks the same way...:

Her Eyes - Pat Monaghan

She's not afraid; she just likes to use her night light
When she gets paid, true religion gets it all
If they fit right.

She's a little bit manic, completely organic
Doesn't panic for the most part.
She's old enough to know, and young enough not to say no

To any chance that she gets for home plate tickets to see the Mets.
Like everybody, she's in over her head,
Dreads Feds, Grateful Dead, and doesn't take meds.

She's a Gemini Capricorn
Thinks all men are addicted to porn.
I don't agree with her half the time,
But, damn I'm glad she's mine.

Her eyes, that's where hope lies.
That's where blue skies
Meet the sunrise.
Her eyes, that's where I go
When I go home.

She got the kinda strength that every man wishes he had.
She loved Michael Jackson up until he made Bad.

Tells me that she lived about a hundred lives,
Scares me to death when she thinks and drives,
Says cowboy hats make her look fat,
and I'm so glad she's mine.

Her eyes, that's where hope lies.
That's where blue skies
Meet the sunrise.
Her eyes, that's where I go
When I go home.

She doesn't know the word 'impossible'
Don't care where I've been and doesn't care where we're goin' to.
She takes me as I am, and that ain't easy.
She's beautiful. So beautiful.

And sometimes I think she's truly crazy.
And I love it.

Her eyes, that's where hope lies.
That's where blue skies
Always meet the sunrise.
Her eyes, that's where I go
When I go home.

Her eyes, that's where hope lies.
That's where blue skies
Always meet the sunrise.
Her eyes, that's where I go
When I go home.

She's not afraid
she just likes to use her night light.

(N)ever better?

Hi.

Everything's fine.

I'm fine.

Just putting things back in order and moving on, as usual.

Just got over a horrible bout with pneumonia and a sinus infection, that almost put me in the hospital. It took me out of work for an entire week, against my will, mind you.

Today, I have my regular gyno appt (yay) - would you like to know the details? Because this is the page of TMI.

Yesterday, I went and saw my shrink for medicine management - I'm actually doing very well, so we changed nothing. What that means is that even though you hurt me, I bounced back pretty quickly. I still hurt, and I REALLY think you suck, but I'm ok. I won't be wasting time on someone who just wants to "be friends," but rather on finding someone who will waste time being in love with me. I'll bitch you out in another post, though. This one's about me.

This weekend, I'm going to find a good deep tissue masseuse, since my head is about to fall off my shoulders. I can't even look down anymore. Just turning my head gives me a raging headache.

This afternoon after the doc, I'm going to go home, take a shower and chill.

If Friday comes, fine.

If not, good.


Heather, I'm SO FUCKING GLAD you're home.

Amy, we'll fix everything - I promise. No matter what happens, we're going to be ok. You were there for me, and I'm going to be here for you.

Dwane, I'm sorry to hear about your father. I'm still sending thoughts and prayers your way.

And, of course, congratulations to my wonderful boys, Austin & Braxton, on their dedication to God and being baptized last night. Although you don't understand now, you will - I wish you undying and unwavering faith in the face of adversity.

Everyone else, as usual, I hope you're all healthy & well. You're all in my thoughts, and I'm always glad to hear from everyone!

*Hugs* to everyone...

Happy Father's Day - I hate this holiday, too!

Hey, happy father's day to all the daddies out there! Just know I'm incredibly envious, because I never got to know my dad, and the only guy I ever viewed as a dad molested me when I was younger.

But, hey, happy father's day anyway! I know that there are some good dads out there, and I hope you're one of them!

There were SO MANY times I wished I had a dad. Everybody else would talk about how great their dads were, and it made me feel so empty. What if I had a dad? What would he be like? Would he give good hugs? Would he let me sit in his lap and hug him, even when I got older? Would he be protective and want to meet all my friends and boyfriends? Would he take me to work with him and show me off as his "beautiful baby girl?"

Actually, he did do that. He and my mom worked for the same construction facility, Alabama Flange, and I seem to remember Mom saying that she would bring me up there, while she worked (it was a family business - they didn't care), and after I was born and she brought me up there for the first time, he took me from Mom and ran into the plant to show me off to all his buddies. I guess that means he was proud. Anyway, Mom was really freaked out that he and those guys were going to get me dirty, since they did a lot of dirty work.

Then, there was this time that he took me for a horseback ride, while my Mom had a coronary. I'm all swaddled up in my baby blanket, and Mom freaking out, yelling for him to bring that baby back!!! &=) That story always makes me smile, because I can just picture my mom. She was awesome.

You know, come to think of it, those are the only two stories I know about him. And, I have like three pictures of him. It's all very...vague. I wish *I* remembered...

Not too long after that, he was killed in an accident at work when I was like six weeks old.
I can't remember if she said they took me to the funeral or not. My earliest memories, though, are of still being in a cradle, except I was of standing age at this point. We lived with my Grammy & Granddaddy for several years after my dad died. And when we got our new house built, I was terrified of it. I remember being so scared that I'd never see my grandparents again. Everything turned out fine, though.

For some reason, this got me into googling people in my family. I found several things on various people; my grandmother, my grandfather, my grandmother's sisters, ye olde plant, Alabama Flange. I couldn't find anything on Mom, though, and of course, that got me to crying. I thought that if she would have made it, even for a couple more years, you know her name would be all over the internet. She'd have her OWN blog. I know she wrote. I read some of it.

Anyway, I couldn't think of anything else to look for. My memory is really bad, and I don't remember a lot of things. I wish I knew more about my dad. Like, was he a good guy? Was he a good dad? Did he like me? What kind of dad would he have been for me in the future? Would he have cried as he gave me away at my wedding? But see, now I can't even ask her. I just don't remember...

There are times I sometimes wish I had a whole family unit - a mom, a dad and a kid. I've ALWAYS wished for a sister, be like Erica & Shelb. Or maybe a brother, who would always look out for me and be protective, even though he'd mess with me all the time.

For some reason, though, God chose for me to be on my own, yet with a good support system. And, I've pushed and struggled and made it this far.

On a lighter note, that got me to thinking - they've got mother's and father's and grandparent's...why don't they have a Single Person's Day, where you can celebrate being single, and alone, and depressed? Oh, wait. I guess that's Valentine's Day.

Well, I'm still going to petition for Single Person's Day, where people can come bring me gifts and make reservations at a nice restaurant for me to dine alone - "one, please." They'll have sent me with money, of course, so I don't have to pay. And, maybe later, I could just go home and watch all the videos they rented for me - alone.

Yeah. That would be awesome.



Holidays are stupid.

While they're for giving thanks for the ones you DO have, they remind you a lot of the people you've lost and how much you miss them. At least that's how it works for me, since the only person I loved as much as I loved my ex-husband, my very best friend of my life, is completely gone.

I don't know that I'll ever be even slightly complete ever again.

All I can do is pray for strength and ask for love and support.


I should probably start now.

I can only say I told you so.

I should have stuck with intuition.

I should have worn the "break-up" clothes, after all.



Again, I repeat, I know we weren't actually dating, but I'd hope you get the point.

I got friended.

I should have listened to my own damn advice.

I got fucked and friended. In that order.

And, I've been squalling since he walked out the door.

I kept telling him over and over that I couldn't be friends with him. But he wouldn't accept it. He kept begging me for a hug. I asked him if I had just become an FWB, and he told me, "ok, friends with NO benefits."

I mean, seriously...are you fucking serious?!?!?!??! Don't you remember my attachable nature??? Do you even remember me?????

After all this sordid shit I've been and put myself through these past EIGHT FUCKING YEARS, this was NOT the category to add something to.





Jesus, I fucking hate myself.

Check, please

Hey, thanks so much for all the sweet words and web-hugs. I'm really lucky to have such great friends who care so much. It makes all the crappy stuff you go through not quite SO crappy. Thank you all, and I love you!!! &=)


Ok, so here's what's up.

I acquired pneumonia and some freaking sinus infection, so I've been really, REALLY sick for the past week. Doc won't even let me go back to work until Monday. So, I've taken a WHOLE FUCKING WEEK off work against my will. I'm really pissed about that. I have PLANS for those days...

Ok, then he and I have been texting off and on over the past three weeks. He actually came over to visit me Mon or Tues and brought me some Dayquil. &=)

But as my last post suggests, I just don't see it there. I hear from him, I don't hear from him. I'm not saying he has to talk to me 24 bleeding hours a day. BUT, that's why I think he's not interested. He seems...bored or something around me. And he only wants to "hang out" sometimes.

Granted, I don't know his situation. He may still be dating someone? Or living with someone? Or something that I'm not supposed to know about? Whatev.

Which brings me to the meat of the post. He texted me tonight and wanted to know if I want to go get drinks tomorrow.

...........................

And, before you say it, NO, I can't leave things alone and let them just play out however they will. I have to anticipate. I have to be prepared. Is this going to be one of those, "you know we can't date. I just want to be friends." Ok, well, in that case, why don't you just tell me and get it over with?

Or is this a real date?

I have NO problem taking things slowly (that's a lie), but I need to know if there's some prospect at the end of the road. I'm too old to be just flippantly dating anyone. I'm ready to meet THE ONE. I'm ready to settle down, I'm ready to start a family, I'm ready to mesh my life in with someone else's. And, Hewy, before you say it, I'm NOT trying to get married just for the sake of getting married. I have NO intention of doing that. But, there are things that I'm ready to do with my life, and I can't do them alone. Or rather, I won't.

That's the current drama. I'm so nervous about tomorrow...I just can't relax.

And there's so many decisions I have to make tomorrow. Should I wear "being sorta dumped" clothes? Should I wear regular date clothes? Should I let him drive, or should I drive my own car, in case I get "friended" and have to leave? If he drives, and I STILL get "friended," should I wear running shoes or take cab fare?

And, yes, I am thinking all of these things as I prepare myself for tomorrow.

I just have this feeling, you know? But, I have horrible expectations for everything. I'm just hoping this time is one of those women's intuition malfunctory thingies. This is the reason I changed my number. I don't want to past to keep coming back and hurting me. I've moved on from all that. If there's a place for him or anything else in my future, then good.

If not, why are you doing this to me? You already know me and know I'm not able to do what you want me to do. I'd love to be your friend, your best friend, but in this case, I wouldn't want to stop at that.

I love you, and I want you to be happy, but I don't know if I can play a bit part in your happiness.



Shit.

Wish me luck and strength tomorrow. God knows I'm going to need both. &=\