Pussy

I am NOT what you would call a cat person. I am deathly allergic and can't abide the way they insinuate themselves all over you, even pushing their ass into your face. In my worse nightmare, for some neanderthal reason, I see a cat that I am calmly petting, suddenly turn to me in fury, lips peeling back from sharp, snarling teeth. As it clamps its teeth into my hand, all four paws reach out, sinking all the claws into my bare forearm.  I am unable to scream (given it is a dream), and I frantically trying to shake the evil bastard from my arm. Fortunately before the blood starts spurting, I wake up....
Now that said, I have wanted a PET for a long time. Finally, one day last December, I got one. Yes, this is a stuffed dog from Ikea. I loved him and was so joyous in the car on the way home, saying out loud, "NOW I don't have to get an actual animal!"  Really, I don't actively HATE cats. I wouldn't hurt one for any reason, and would not want to see one hurt.  I like those cute kitty videos on You Tube, but would be loathe to bring one into my home....
        The day before I went to Ikea, my friend Natasha moved to Alabama and stayed in a hotel the night before her truck left.  When she went back the next morning, her two cats, Ando and Juki, were nowhere to be found....so she had to leave them behind.  She had rescued these kitties after the big Hurricane in Houston a few years back, but I didn't know she had left them until I went by after Ikea, to pick up some plants she'd left me.

There, calmly sitting in a corner of the yard, was Ando, a gorgeous grey Russian Blue kitty. I knew he was probably freaked out, as he had always been an inside cat.  Natasha's house backed up to a wash, full of coyotes and javalinas and other kitty eaters, so against my better judgement, I temporarily lost my sanity, and got the cat carrier that Natasha had left, walked over and scooped him up and into the carrier.

       I sat in my car, going, "Fuck!  Now what?"  I talked back to the little shit as he yowled in th back seat.  We drove to Safeway for a litter pan and some food, and Ando came to my house.  Here is a little video of his first day:

He stayed in the garage for about 24 hours, but when he got behind the dryer, where I had recently destroyed a pack rat nest, I decided to move him in the house.  Plus, this was late December, and it is damn cold in Tucson in December. I left him and his paraphernalia in the tiled guest bathroom and he was perfectly happy there....Then I left the door open by accident, and he ventured out and within a few hours he had made himself at home. He played with me, and sat in my lap. I avoided touching my face, but I wasn't all sneezy and stuffed up like I normally am around cats.

Since Natasha was out of state, and I had no way to get Ando to her, I put an ad on Craigslist. I soon had several requests for him. I picked a single mom named DG and she came over to meet him, then she came again the next day with her kids to see if Ando was a fit. He was, and they took him home that night. I was a little sad to see him go, and everyone on Facebook was convinced I was gonna be a cat mommy, but REALLY I do not WANT to be an old Cat Lady.  I am friends with DG on Facebook and she posts pictures of Ando every so often. He looks VERY happy, I am thrilled to say.

        About the time Ando was getting adopted, someone found his sister, Juki, a pitch black kitty, who I had never even seen at Natasha's.  She was definitely not as social as Juki. When the finder called and asked what "I" wanted to do (Natasha's family had hired a finder and given him my phone number). I didn't feel right letting Juki go to a shelter, so I had the finder bring her to me.  I put her in tile bathroom and the first time I went to check on her, she was gone! Not in the tub, not in the trashcan, not in the big box I had put in there for her, the cabinet doors close securely so I had no idea what had happened until I head her rustling around in the vanity.  I open the door, and there she is, all nestled in my clean towels.  She had crawled UNDER the vanity, up the drain pipe hole, and made herself a hidey hole!  I let her stay, but left the cabinet doors open. She was not a brave cat and came out very rarely. 

      I was able to entice her out with treats, but almost as soon as she got it, she'd scamper back to safety...and frankly, as allergic as I was to this cat, it is a good thing she didn't want to play.  She did get over it a little bit when she felt how comfy my couch was....Here is a little clip where she is, according to my Cat-people friends, showing me her love...Me I think she was trying to make me pee. 

She also had a habit of vomiting.  Granted, she had not eaten cat food in a week, so perhaps she was having issues with that, but the vomit and shit were DISGUSTING!!!! I was happy to leave her in the bathroom.

Within a couple of days, I had found her a nice computer geek who wanted an older cat to keep his new kitty company, and it was HELL dragging her out so he could meet her. My arms were scratched to hell - even though she only had back leg claws.   When he brought in a carrier, I was worried about how I was gonna shove her in while maintaining skin integrity, but strangely enough, she dropped in to the new hidey hole like she was medicated with xanax!

After they were both gone, I bleached my bathroom and cleaned the rest of the house....and that was that.  petless once again....except for my little stuffy......

Where did Ryan Go?

I have been sporadic in my blogging lately, and when I do check in, it is manly to read some of my favorite writers - Auds at Barking Mad, That Janie Girl, Kevin at Irish Gumbo and a few others (see the amazing list to the right). One I really liked was Pacing the Panic Room by Ryan Marshall...I started reading him when his wife was pregnant and followed their story for years....and now his blog is restricted.  Does anyone know what happened?

Restrictions

So, thyroid problems are the most common endocrine issue in the world, and while Type I Diabetes is a lot less common, combined with a thyroid issue, it makes quite a big deal. I was diagnosed with Graves Disease - hyperthyroid, in 1981, and was treated with thyroid lowering medication for a year. The disease went into remission for about 20 years, then it came back twice...i was again treated with the medication and it went awy....so here we are again.

The main symptoms are an inability to concentrate or focus on tasks, a racing heartbeat, trembling hands, missing periods and double vision...all of which I have dealing with for the last several months, plus really uncontrollable, unpredictable blood sugars. The upshot is I am having a thyroid scan next week, and in order to prepare for that, I am on an iodine restricted diet, which means no dairy, no eggs, no fish, no soy...and it is amazing what those 4 things are in...if there is butter in something...nope.  Soy Lecithin?  nope. Seaweed? nope. Milk solids...nope. Iodized salt is out for obvious reasons, though NON iodized salt is fine. Fortunately MOST canned food is now prepared with non-iodized salt and there are lists of manufacturers available.

Thanks to the internet, I have been able to find plenty of dairy free recipes...I am not much of a cook, other than soup (and my chicken stock might have iodized salt in it, so that is out...). But lookie what found:

 This is the the starting place for Banana, Peanut Butter, Coco-pops. I don't have popsicle molds so I improvised with Dixie Cups and plastic spoons. Here is the finished project:

It was DELICIOUS!  Even when I can have ice cream again, I will make this snack!. Here is the recipe:

2 bananas
2 little spoons of unsweetened cocoa powder
3/4 C lite Coconut milk
1/2 t vanilla
1 big squeeze of Agave Nectar
2 handfuls of roasted unsalted peanuts

Run the whole thing through the blender. Pour it into molds or dixie cups and force yourself to leave the freezer door shut for at least 2 hours...and VOILA!

don't miss this blog!

One of my favorite bloggers over the years has been Audrey at Barking Mad.  She opening and honestly shares her struggles with life, weight, the economy, her kids, her past, and SO much more...and to top it off, she is a BRILLIANT writer. 

She is doing an awesome giveaway, so even if you don't want to read an exceptional blog, (and I don't know why you wouldn't...you've wasted time on mine!), you should at least check her out!

never mind...

wiping the little snot bubble off the end of my nose.....I have been excluded from the study thanks to a recurrence of Graves Disease...

I am very depressed. I was looking forward to something POSITIVE happening as it relates to diabetes. 

The doctor says I can be considered again next time, once the Graves is taken care of....but it is pretty competitive to get in, so, I won't hold my breath........

Here's to technology, science and math!!

I have been a Type I diabetic since I was 10 years old. My body makes NO insulin, so I have no choice but to put it in me, or die. Since insulin is a protein, it cannot be injested, as the stomach acids would destroy it.  It has to enter through my skin. I started taking shots once a day at first, then twice a day, and then as standards of care changed, I took up to 4 or 5 shots a day, timed to my meals, or to correct high blood sugars.  Taking MORE shots does not mean I was a BAD diabetic or my diabetes was WORSE than someone else's. Multiple daily injections was the "gold standard" for many years. Normal bodies dole out insulin all day long, in response to fluctuations, so it just made sense to have insulin come in more regularly.

So, along those lines, the first insulin pumps were developed (the first one is pictured...they have come a long way!), to mimic the body in dripping out small amounts all day, and then giving bigger surges, or boluses, at meal times when the blood sugar soared.  For the last  20 years, I have ussed an insulin pump. This device is attached to me with a small catheter under the skin that I have to change out every 4 or 5 days.  Yes, it goes IN, piercing the skin, with a needle, but then I pull the needle out, leaving a small plastic tube. The insulin travels from the pump and into me via 20" of tubing. I can disconnect the pump for a shower or to go swimming, but I can't be away from my "lifeline" for much longer than that. 

The pump is programmed by me to administer a tiny amount of insulin every few minutes, just like a normal body, to take care of my metabolic needs.....I test my blood sugar frequently to make sure I don't have too much sugar in my blood, or just as bad, too much insulin.  To do this, I poke a hole in my finger and test it on a little device.  Yes, it hurts a little bit.  

And that is where the math comes in. For example, I want to eat a bagel, which from package label I can see has 45 grams of carbohydrate.  Since I know that (for me), 1 unit of insulin will "take care" of 15 grams of CHO, that is easy math to figure out - 3 units of insulin for the 45 gm CHO bagel.  So, I test my blood sugar. and it is in a normal range, say 100, so I can take my three units and be done.  However, if my blood sugar is HIGH, say 200, FIRST I have to take enough insulin to lower me to a normal place (for me, that target is 100).  Since I know that one unit of insulin will lower my blood sugar ~50 points , that is easy math - I need to take 2 units to bring me down to 100, PLUS the 3 units for the 45 grams of carbohydrate.  Timing the administration of the insulin can also a tricky process. Insulin does not immediately bring my blood sugar down, so I have to take insulin well before I eat, so it has a chance to start working - especially if I am a little high - it needs to start bring me down before I add more sugar to my blood.

While taking insulin IS the only option, insulin is NOT a cure, and it is not a ideal solution to avoid the complications associated with diabetes...blindness, kidney and heart disease, loss of circulation and amputation as well as a whole HOST of unappealing options. It is pretty much a fact that even with very tight glucose control, many type 1 diabetics will develop complications anyway

Several years ago, "they" developed continuous glucose monitor - these little devices are also inserted under the skin, and they send a message every few minutes to yet another device, with a blood sugar level. They are really extraordinary devices, very accurate but just one more tool for ME to manage my blood sugar. Instead of testing my blood sugar 8 or 9 times per day, the CGM tests me every 5 minute, so there are 288 readings every day and I can more accurately program my insulin pump and administer meal boluses. But I will be the first to say that they are not always 100% accurate.I still test my blood the "old fashioned " way several times a day.

For a long time, we have dreamed of, if not a cure, then a "closed loop" system....Taking the person OUT of the mix, so to speak.  They now call this the Artificial Pancreas, and there are several versions currently being studied....one is gene therapy, another is a bioengineering approach using transplanted beta cells (Insulin producing cells that MY body does not have); and the third version is the Technology version - a pump and a CGM (which I already have), but the difference is they talking to each other and reacting, WITHOUT interference or input from ME!

Thanks to funding and research spearheaded by JDRF, this is now a reality in the United States. In theory, it has been approved by the FDA and it is currently in human studies in various places around the country. And I am thrilled to announce, that I have been selected to be a participant in Phase II of a trial for the Artificial Pancreas project!

I will be leaving for Santa Barbara next Sunday for the first of two 40-hour studies. I will wear 2 Dexcom 4 glucose sensors and wear a Tandem insulin pump from Sunday night until Tuesday morning. The devices will be hooked together with a modified Iphone, and I will be asked to eat, sleep and exercise.like a normal person while they watch how the iphone application works.  I will do it again the following week.  To say I am excited is an understatement....and I look forward to sharing the experience with my friends and family, many of whom have been donating to the JDRF for years in hopes of a cure.....

So,, let' hear it for technology, science and math!!! SUPPORT STEM EDUCATION!

She

She just oozes venom. Nothing I say is worth crap. I ask what do you want to do, she  says, i don't care what ever you want to do, so I say we are going to take the bus and she complains about her feet and walking to the bus I say, ok we can take a a cab - oh now she says, let's do what YOU want. At lunch, i thought she'd have a better view in the seat facing the boats, so i said, sit here, and she flounced down into the chair... Observant, I saw I had done SOMETHING to make her mad, so I said, you can sit here in the other seat if you would rather. oh NO, she said, you want me to sit here so I will sit here. I said, you can sit in whichever you want, i just thought the view would be better from that one. Oh I am just fine here if this is where you want me. I almost hit her square in the face. Instead I leaned over real close, put my hand on her wrist and whispered in her ear, you can sit in whch ever seat you want, i just thought this was the BETTER seat, so she grabs her stuff and says OK I WILL change, that's the one i wanted anyway. i came so close to twisting her arm or throwing a glass of water in her face several times, or maybe just punching her.

At dinner, my cousin, no relation to her, and i are chatting as we usually do once a year when we get together. I mention how my cousin's grandma got HER her first job and Oh my does that set her off on a roll, talking and and oh my she is just in story heaven. I finally say something about seeing another cousin recently in Chicago, and you would have thought I had actually made good on my mental threats and slapped her. She sat there the rest of dinner, picking at  her sandwicm with her lips pursed, wouldn't say a thing to anyone.

When the bill comes, she asks, am I supposed to pay for everyone? No, I mutter, we all pay our own.When we wre offered a ride home instead of having to suffer the bus all the way back, it is, oh no we don't want to put you out of your way. My cousin insits, couldn't be nicer about it, and she sits like a lump, as we are getting out, she apologizes profusely for  putting them out....

and now she is in her pajamas, faces washed, in bed watching television.  barely 8pm...what am i supposed to do for 3 hours.

 i love her but i can't be with her. she makes me feel worthless. a mother is not supposed to do that to a child. SHE makes ME feel like I should jut kill myself. That i am an ugly unstylish heaven useless blob. SHE makes ME feel like SHIT

this one's for you Irish Gumbo

This post was inspired by Irish Gumbo, one of the best bloggers writer/poet/photographers, I've run across on this here internet.

Normally, quite voracious in his style, and never one to be at a loss for words, a couple of weeks ago, he reported feeling "writers block" for some time. It seems to be going around to some of those I have been reading over the years.  Many of us (including me) are rehashing old posts and ideas, or just posting photos, but mainly using our blogs more to VENT, which is what they are FOR, but it just feels like more so, than in the past.  IG wrote that "I know this is a first-world problem, and it doesn't threaten to destabilize anything else in my life.  So I am grateful for it to be so." However, I think his malaise is pandemic in the first world, particularly the US among the middle to lower middle to poorer classes. I don't know anyone who isn't at least mildly "underwater" in some way, and I do not just mean monetarily. The news, the internet, television, everything conspires against us to make us feel like we MUST be productive, we MUST put notches in our belt, we MUST get better and bigger and richer. Pills to make you hard, drinks to wake you up, teas to calm your mind, undergarments to support what sags, causes to join to make you feel like you matter, cars and houses to buy to make you seem American.  

Frankly, while I am not joining a movement or anything, I am really starting to see that this is a trap "they" want us to languish in. And who is "they?"  The government, corporations, doctors, lawyers, politicians, people over thirty (of which I am one, I am afraid) - all those things and ideas and people the Occupy Movement is protesting.   YOU, nor I will never be GOOD enough, or THIN enough and certainly  not rich enough, but that won't prevent THEM for making us feel like we ought to at least TRY to be more gooder or thinner or richer.  NOT trying is un-American. You are a loser if you aren't prolific, or at least TRYING to be prolific.  

Well, fuck that.  I think we should all just let ourselves off the hook a little bit. Rather than being frugal with the heating oil, appreciate the coolness of the air bundled up in a comfy sweater. Instead of worrying where that next contract is going to come from, relish the silence of the phone. Instead of coveting your neighbors 42" flat panel TV, appreciate the stereo and those CDs you never play, but spent so much money on. Irish, don't beat yourself up because you have writers block, enjoy the transient nature of the blank sheet of paper, and its unfathomable potential.

When you (I) (we) least expect it, something will rise up. In YOU, Irish Gumbo, I have no doubt. and for the rest of us, I will just cling to my hope and convictions that light will shine, morning will come and ideas will flow. 

howdy

Thanks for the prod, King!  I have been super busy, or so it feels. Actually, all I do is work and work out. Now that I have a smart phone, i spend a lot less time on line in general. I can check email from bed or god's sake, or at the gym while I am riding the bike, so no more traipsing around the World Wide Web - it is really a pain on that 3" screen.  Frankly, I DO waste a lot of time on BRAIN SUCKER, I mean,  Facebook. And then some "friend" hooked me up with Words with Friends. I really should delete that account, but I don't think I would ever get any updates from my family with out....Found out my cousin Karen is in hospice for Lung Cancer....via Facebook....and other such important details.  I've actually been trying to write notes, use up stationary and STAMPS, to help support my sister's husband, who doesn't want to lose his job at the USPS....but my handwriting SUCKS and it is hard to write with a pen - it is SO slow!  Gawd!  I am just glad I never wasted time perfecting my cursive handwriting, now that I hear they aren't even teaching it anymore in school. After I post this, while I have momentum, I have to catch up on 3 months of my favorite blogs....and there are not a few of them....

So, what have I been up to (it is my blog, so it tends to be all about me, right?). Last week was the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation walkathon, and I raised ALMOST $3,000! (Here is a link if you want to help me actually GET to $3000)  I WAS actually getting burnt out on JDRF, then they went and published a full page ad in the Washington Post and the New York Times demanding the FDA get off its' bureaucratic ass, and approve the artificial pancreas project, technology that is already available in other countries!  AND, they changed their logo and name to more accurately reflect that they are out there for the CURE for TYPE 1 diabetes, and not just for the cute little kids, but also for the  85% of us who are adults!  (CLICK HERE for more information on the name/logo change).

I am joining the new millennium and bought a new computer yesterday, and yes, Dude, I got another Dell. Skipped Vista and Me and went straight from XP to 7 Professional (cuz I am not ready to upgrade my software yet...baby steps...) My laptop monitor went out, so I am no longer mobile,as I am hooked into a real monitor now...sigh. Which is a pain since I have 3 weeks of travel ahead of me!, but hopefully it will be delivered BETWEEN Florida and before Chicago...here's hoping.

Working out is about all I do for fun (?) these days.  I have been doing step aerobics a couple times a week, and pilates 4 times a week, though one of my teachers just quit so now I am screwed. I have also been doing Pilates reformer classes here and there, and Cross Fit, which I ADORE!!! I actually have bruises on my arms where the 45 pound bar hits me, and my legs were so weak from air squats today, I could barely do step class!  More please

But of course, I am going on a quick vacation to see mom this weekend, and then it gets REALLY busy round here....

Well, I guess that is enough. I have alot to rant about, mainly, I am sad they felt it necessary to lynch Michael Jackson's doctor.  They ruined him...in my opinion, he did not murder MJ, or act recklessly...but I guess they didn't pick me or the jury.....

I wonder if there is anyone still out there, reading.....i hope so...Say hi if you are there :-)

As bloggers (if as loosely as that term can apply to me, since I blog so appallingly infrequent), we understand and appreciate and VALUE our constitutionally protected RIGHT to free speech, do we not?  However, there are certain rules and regulations that we are required to follow, if we want to play here, right? We can't slander and libel; we can't be obscene (define obscene) and other such minor constraints.

Now, let's think for one second about what if it were our JOB to report news, write stories about things that are happening, and if we are SO fortunate, to speak for an entire network on public television/radio.  Given that power, you would certainly enjoy your First Amendment rights as fully as you were allowed.....given the constraints and rules and regulations of your employer. 

I am speaking of course, of the firing of Juan Williams at NPS, for speaking his personal opinion on Bill O'Reilly's show the other day.  NPR has justly said this was a violation of his contract; that they requested FOX not use his NPR association when he was on their network; and have repeatedly asked Juan not to appear as an "NPR news analyst" on Fox programming.  All the reputable networks ask the same of their news people and journalists.  Their job is to investigate and report the news in a non-biased way. Some got all pissed off that ABC wouldn't let their anchors wear American flag lapel pins, as even THAT could be seen as politically motivated.  Oh, you remember those days after September 11th? If you didn't have a flag in your window, or on your car, or tattooed across your forehead, you were a TERRORIST, or even worse, UNAMERICAN (see this post for what trouble THAT got me into)

Mr. Williams wrote for the Washington Post for years, where he won numerous awards for his outspoken opinions, but as a NEWS ANALYST, he does not have the right to speak his mind, OR his opinion in public.  The right wing conservatives are ranting that NPR is squashing free speech! Now, we know the right has always had a thing against NPR - most people who listen to it are educated, open minded and curious about the world we live in, unlike the base constituency of the right, most (not all, of course, I would never dare to stereotype an entire population) of whom are Jerry Springer loving, Sarah Palin supporters who think men should have control of women's bodies, that separation of church and state are not "in" the Constitution, and who probably couldn't locate Eritrea on a map if their lives depended on it.

If you read the memo NPR put out on the firing, they very clearly state that, as Juan's EMPLOYER, they felt what he said was in violation with his contract as an employee. Employees may attend events, to REPORT the facts, but not to participate, and certainly not to voice their opinion as a representative of NPR!!

If Bill O'Reilly had a crew on the street (oh PLEASE come to my street), and ran into him as some random man, then sure, Juan Williams could say whatever he wanted, and as even I would defend to the death his right to have his ridiculous myopic, xenophobic opinion.  But to be on the news, as a NPR analyst?  come on.  This is not a violation of free speech!

So, now I have "friends" calling me naive and stupid for not hearing liberal "bias" on NPR.  I listen to NPR all day long. I hear honest, truthful, black and white reporting on what is happening in the WORLD.  The fact is, it would not have mattered one red cent what Juan Williams' opinion on ANYTHING was....whether he was pro choice, pro gun, pro beat the baby seals, it just would NOT matter. He was in violation of his contract and NPR had the right to terminate their employee. 

I think the whole laughable/lamentable thing is NOW Fox GNUS has the "ousted" former NPR news analyst Juan Williams on THEIR payroll, so they can further vilify those of more open minds and call democrats, liberals and others of more open minds and hearts STUPID. A $2million contract with Fox for speaking his mind? Heck, I would take a public stand in opposition to my employer's rules and regulations and would have even thrown in the race card myself, if it meant I would be getting 2 million bucks AND another job! So, now at least Mr. Williams is back to doing what he does well - speaking his opinion,  and leaving the truth and the facts to those who really care about them. Bravo!

10 years

reprinted from 2 years ago.....

It has been a long time coming. I have tried many times to put black markings on paper about this event that so deeply touched me....usually I use other people's words and images, who have been more successful than I in summing things up. So here it is....the 8th 10th anniversary of a really fucking bad day for many of us, and I am finally ready to unleash it. And it is self-indulgent drivel, if you want my honest opinion. There is no point and it has no end, sort of like the health care debate....can any real conclusion or final assessment be drawn? If you'd rather read something much more interesting and sure to draw copious tears to your hardened heart, and I sure wouldn't blame you, please see Brian Doyle's exquisite and gut wrenching piece Leap (in fact go read it anyway - it is much better than what I wrote below)

So, anyway.....before September 11th, writing had always been a joy. I was always jotting down ideas and making notes, culling my journal and email for little tid bits to develop - the process of creating something with words felt cathartic and liberating. It was so easy to spew my scattered, incomprehensible thoughts out of my fingertips as words, and stories and poems (and not just in English), typing or scribbling faster than I could think, onto paper, sometimes sending them away, far away - sometimes for someone else to read, and sometimes NOT, to burn, to bury, to delete, to fold up and tuck into my journal...it always helped when I was down or sad or upset and even when it wasn't emotional diarrhea, I enjoyed it immensely, and I loved sharing it with my friends and family.

But then came that awful day, and the spewing sputtered. An emotional earthquake rocked my foundations, and I erected this giant dike in my head, and around my heart and my words stopped coming so freely. After being called unAmerican for voicing my liberal opinion by certain narrow minded people in my family, I stopped wanting to share ANYTHING with ANYONE. I stopped contributing to the diabetes support group I had always followed, I stopped writing long letters during lunch,I stopped writing silly poems. Things and feelings and thoughts and emotions and even actions were choked back, tucked away, hidden, stuffed into the back corners. Words literally failed me, and writing was no longer the outlet it had always been, it no longer made sense and it didn't feel right. I couldn't say anything appropriate or reasonable, and really, the bottom line was, who cared anyway?

As the years pass, I will pull my finger out of the dam every so often, and let out a little trickle of emotional fodder to create something for my "blog about nothing," about life, my life, the world, but I have always ached to have something of my own to say about the whole overwhelming, nonsensical specter that was/is September 11th. (And please don't call it "nine eleven" around me - that is "shorthand," something the media concocted to make it catchy...It's a Fraternity, not a Frat, it's your country, not a cunt, and god damn it, it is September 11th, not 9/11).

After that day, in the days and weeks that followed, I burrowed in. It was a long time before I really communicated with anyone, and I mean “communication” on every conceivable level. Sure, at the time there were plenty of mechanical phone conversations and shallow email exchanges. Friends offering heartening words, asking concerned questions but nothing, no one, really scratched through the veneer of my stiff upper lip and my “getting back to usual” appearance. “Oh, I am OK,” I said, “I had an acquaintance or two who worked at the restaurant, but no one I knew really well (I found out later I was wrong)...just taking it day by day.” but I was NOT taking it day by day. I did not take it at all...it was taking me. For ages, I felt like I was being crushed by an enormous weight! I wrote,

It (what is “it?” is it grief? pain? sadness?) washes over and through and around me, surrounds me and sucks me down; drowning me in a bottomless sea of sadness and loneliness! I hate my job, I love my job; I hate New York; I love New York; I miss my family; I don’t want anything to do with my family - all they do is die and get sick or make me feel bad that I can’t (won’t) do more for them. I have no one to talk to, not that I WANT to talk to anyone, no one to listen to me, not that I have anything to say. No where to pour my heart and soul and fears and tears and whines and complaints, and the few small joys when they dare to raise their little heads, as if I would be able to vocalize or physicalize them, as if there really was a heart or soul alive in me anymore and the longer I go, the deader I feel...walking into a frozen fjord, growing number and colder with every step. No one to slap me out of this silly little mood, if that is what I need, nothing to physically, mentally divert my attentions...I have never felt so isolated and lost and small.

Everyone I knew was half a world away, a million miles for what it was worth, with their own lives, jobs, work, email backload, children, pets, car troubles, health concerns etc. and could do nothing to help, save, guide, steer me, I knew that; not that I would take help or saving or guiding or steering from anyone without grievous argument.

I was always a barely-controlled sniveling basket case of scar tissue, snot and blood, but after September 11th, I had to fight even harder to keep that blubbering little worm under wraps. In the weeks before that day, I was surrounded by family and friends in Texas and Colorado, I frolicked in the Canyonlands and drove my purple car 90 miles an hour across Arizona, with the wind tangling my hair into befuddled little snarls, the skin on my arms golden brown, the wrinkle between my eyes all but gone. By the end of September, it was back, and deeper than ever...my skin paled until it was as colorless as my soul, and my first grey hairs appeared. I became a phantom on the subway to work, a ghost on the sidewalk, walking through Times Square, with all the other shadows. We all wept on occasion. In this ashen world, did we finally really see each other? Instead of protecting personal space on the train, you could almost feel the person next to you leaning in, drawing support and warmth from your own broken and fragile body....as tears rolled silently down my face, I felt a hand touch my arm....but even so, I was so terribly alone.

I left New York in June, seeking purpose, and more creative opportunities, to find a real relationship with a man, to drive my car and get my stuff out of storage. I like to imagine I am better now. I no longer dwell on the events of the day, try not to conjure up the pictures etched on the back of my closed eyelids, for when I do, I remember that I have only a fragile grasp on control, and even that is held together by the tenuous threads of my logical mind. My irrational mind still wants to let go and fall. I still want to peel my grasping fingers loose and let my soul take flight. I still want to scream, I want to hit and hurt. I want to scratch my fingers down something soft and yielding, I want to bite down HARD and feel the blood spurt in my throat as something gives in my teeth. I have this caged animal inside of me that is clawing to escape and it is a struggle to keep it quiet. Ice, I tell myself. I am ice, Ice is hard and cold. Ice feels no pain, nor sorrow or anger or fear. Ice needs no fire to survive, and indeed, maybe my internal fire needs to be doused so I will feel less sad, less anger, fear no more, and the bruises of loneliness will heal.

2001 was a dreadful year for my family in general - I lost more family members in the 6 months before and after September 11th than in the rest of my life combined. And even so, I can't forget the thousands of people in those buildings and on the planes! Looking out the windows as they approached the end, snuffed out like birthday candles - poof - now you see em...now you don’t - they were cremated alive - pulverized into dust before their hearts stopped beating, before their voices finished shrieking - and the ones who jumped from towers - I can never ever forget that. At least Granny had a chance to say good bye; at least Aunt Sue got to tell everyone "I TOLD you I was sick," before she died....Which way is better, I wonder....I still wonder

Sigh....all things end, everything dies, a new day will come tomorrow, a new threat, a new fear, and I will continue to hold back - There is no summary, no nice tidy resolution here. I have not come to any pithy realization or found a great soul searing revelation. But at least some of the garbage I have been carrying around in my head for the last 8 years is OUT of me now. Maybe now, the water can flow more easily. My writing always began with good intentions, though I was rarely able to make a good conclusion, but perhaps that IS the conclusion. The end just IS, you can't predict or plan or devise the end. Maybe this isn't the end, and maybe a day will come when I can more adequately express what I am trying to say.....for now, I will just remember to keep trying to remember why life is so damn important and all the economic woes and health care crises and the financial meltdown and the car repair stuff, and the ruins of my latest relationship, and every thing else, really don't matter.

Flavors Take Flight

I am alive...and I want to go to Hawaii.....So go vote for my recipe, please!!!

Flavors Take Flight

On vacation

I am on vacation in France and Italy...in case anyone was wondering what happened to my blog. Not that I am the most prolific of writers anyway.

Now am waiting for the lady I am staying with in Vingtmiglia to get up and make me some damn coffee...the day is gorgeous and I am ready to GO....just need some coffee!

Photos soon...ciao

Value

• Parts from the junk yard salvage and recycle center:  $100
• Paying my deductible and getting the salvage title: $700
• 1/2 gallon Bluebell Homemade Vanilla: $3.99

• Friends like C who did all the labor for free (and who will get a nice gift card and all the Taco Bell he can handle for his trouble):  PRICELESS

 

My purple pansy of a car now has some fire, some machismo, some cojones.....it is no longer the androgynous "purple car" - I need a new name for this bad boy.

And to think insurance TOTALED it?! I just don't get it. Sure, the fender is the wrong color, but even if I have it painted, it will STILL cost less than the Actual Cash Value! The $100 bought a  fender, the tire liner, a wheel cover, a rear view mirror assembly AND a tail light (mine had been cracked for years). I am gonna walk away with enough money to buy a couple of tanks of gas!!

Eating me Up

I was in a fender bender a week ago today. I had gone to the gym and was on my way home, and cut the corner into my alley a little too short, or so the cop who wrote me the ticket says. I maintain that had SHE slowed down, instead of barreling out into the main road which i was turning off of, she would have avoided me....BUT she didn't even have a yield sign, so I was cited for making an "unsafe left turn."

My car

I took my car to the insurance adjuster...and they totaled it!  The cash value is $2200 (which is actually about $1K more than what I thought they would say), less $500 for my deductible. I can buy it back as "salvage" for $200, so when I get the title transferred over to "salvage," Insurance will give me a check for about $1500.  The alternative was to give me $1300 check to get it fixed ($1800 estimate damage, less my deductible), but if,  when the shop got it up on the lift and found MORE damage underneath, there was only about $200 more 'til insurance would just total it anyway.

I think totaling it SAD, but probably for the best. It is JUST the fender and rear view mirror on the outside, (and my friend says those parts won't be that much), maybe some paint to make it close to the right color, an alignment, maybe a tie rod....so I will have a little left over to pay my ticket, buy some gas, and maybe an extra chocolate croissant while I am in France. (yes, I am going to France, next week as a matter of fact).


On Friday, me and my friend headed out to the junk yards...my first time, WOW....dead cars galore...I can't imagine people walking away from some of these twisted heaps of metal!!  But we found a rear view mirror assembly. My friend put my unbroken mirror in, and for $10, I can at least see behind me. We also found a fender, but it was red, so we are gonna keep looking.

On Saturday, I took it to the tire place and had them rotate and balance and check the alignment...Asked them if the tie rods were OK, and they said they weren't leaking.....I should have been more specific - IS IT BENT, is really what I wanted to know....but you usually get screwed when you are a girl going to these places.....

Waiting on a call now from the guy who might have a fender, otherwise, I am going to get the red one, get it painted, and call it a day...I love my car and am not ready to give it up yet for a new one...It is 17 years old and runs about the same now as it did in 1994.....the six hamsters under the hood are a little grayer, but they still got all four paws on the wheel in the cage!!

Or I WOULD just call it a day, if the BITCH I hit hadn't retained a LAWYER!!! Now, she is claiming whip lash, and even though I have coverage, I am freaking out.  I mean, look at HER car....a glancing brush with my apparently made of glass fender!! Her bumper is hanging down a little bit and there is a dent in the area over the tire (her steering wheel is turned, that is why the tire looks wonky).


The worst part is, she lives on my street and I have to be worried I will SEE her....I want to really cause some damage, but there is nothing I can really do.....The stupid thing is we have the same insurance!!  We each have our own claim and our own legal team already looking into everything. It is silly and redundant for her to have gotten another lawyer, don't you think, or is there something more sinister in play???


But yeah, I am going to France.......more on that later.....

Don't Worry. Be Happy (idiot)

Have you seen this on a Facebook status in your neighborhood?

There comes a time in life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh, forget the bad, and focus on the good. So love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living. ♥ Re-post if you agree

Everyone just "loves" that, don't they...everyone clicks "LIKE" and the comments are "OMG, that is so true." and "wow, I love you so much, man."  etc.

However, I have to say, I DON'T agree. You do NOT walk away from the people who create drama, if they are your friends. You don't forget the bad, as if you could...the BAD makes the GOOD possible, for god's sake!.  You aren't just friends with someone because they bring peace and calm into your life. Friendship is BIGGER than that. You take the good with the bad, sort of like a marriage; if you have a real friendship, a TRUE friendship.  You make the effort, and you take the time to WORK things out.

I am very worked up about this, as I HAD what I thought was a good friend here in town, who started saying and posting things like this, and within a couple of weeks, she had literally dissolved our friendship!  Sent me a "break up" email, deleted me as a friend on Facebook, and canceled plans to attend my Halloween party!  She decided I brought too much "darkness" into her life, and we went from talking several times a week, to NOTHING. WTF? I am sarcastic and pessimistic and awfully liberal in my opinions, but I am also liberal in my love, and with my time, and with my energy. I shared a lot with her, I was a good listener for her (and if you know me, you know I am a VERY good listener), I babysat her child, I edited her book, and much more.

I was hurt and upset and even cried about it...what had I done, what was wrong with me...And then I found out she had done the same thing to 2 other mutual friends....though the sting was a little less knowing she had gotten rid of us all, it left us ALL confused and bewildered, wondering what the hell happened!  We all still like each other just fine, and in fact, our friendship is even stronger now!

Look, if you don't LIKE some aspect of my character, that is not enough, not a valid reason to DEL the relationship....sorry....I am a grown up, we talk, we figure things out.  If you are too chicken to talk to me about something you don't like about my character, well, that is just too bad for you.  I have people in my life who value who I am, the way I am...they take the dark and twisty with the goofy and funny. They take my whines and moans, and they share my joys and elation....

I am just not into the pithy, seemingly light and inoffensive sayings like this..you know the type? "Don't worry, be happy" is my most loathed one. I think they are much darker and more subversive than you might think....This type of thinking reduces the value of everything - not just friendship...If you can toss it off as easily as you can get rid of an old out dated television set, or a car that is not the newest and hottest thing, what is it's real worth?  I LOVE my friends. If someone is a "piece of work" to quote one of them, I just accept it as part of who they are, and I deal with it...maybe I limit my time with that person; maybe they aren't someone I can call at 2am, but I am not going to "let them go," simply because they have some darkness and unhappiness around them....

You can't get rid of me that easily.....

To be or Not to be...and to be WHAT is really the question!

I responded to someone who commented on my last post about how my life, and my life's focus seems to be changing, without my permission.  I am trying to find that next step, that next "fun" thing that will hopefully take me out of this mid-life crisis, but as I wrote to her, it is just really hard to make myself FOCUS on something "else" for some reason.  I mean, I have "done" theatre since I was a teen ager.  My family knows me as the dramatic one; i have a multi-page resume that says I "DO" theatre...I have diplomas and awards and stacks of books that say my expertise is in the production of live entertainment of one form or another...It has been what has "defined" me, in conversation (So, what do YOU do?), in my dating profiles (Job?: Creative); even my tax return (Occupation: Director), and so much more...

And now I feel like my very outlines are blurring. I sense my colors seeping out, mixing together, sort of like watercolors that are too watery on paper that is not absorbent enough...I feel like a scribble...

I know no one can TELL me what to do; I suppose medication would be a useful tool....I am sure this is "just" some kind of mid life crisis, but it sure feels hopeless and out of control.

On a good note, in the last week, I have managed to hook up my OWN wireless router; hooked up the adapter to TIVO so now IT gets a wireless signal (the internal analog modem no longer "speaks" to digital Qwest...oh, how I wish I could tell them to go screw themselves like that); AND I got a smart phone....I jumped all the way into the 21st century, from 1994 in one giant swoop!!!  I think these external progresses are a direct and specific desire to avoid the more important internal discussion that needs to be had.....and I cooked, too, twice, this week. If that ain't avoidance, I don't know what it is!!

wordless wednesday

this one's for you Captain Dumbass!

May the Fourth Be With YOU!!!

My take on the death of Osama bin Laden

At an interfaith summit held in Chicago after the events of September 11th, religious leaders from around the world said:

"As we have since 9/11 and the beginning of the war on terrorism: we call for greater understanding; we seek to dispel ignorance; we ask that this be a time of humility not arrogance; and, we hope that all can be mindful of what we have lost." Reuters AlertNet - Muslim, Christian, Jewish Leaders Release Joint Peace Guidelines

I am happy, in my way, the OBL is dead, and now chumming the seas as shark bait, but I am not reveling in the street, and I truly wonder if those that DO, understand what his death represents, or if it is just a BOO YAH, in your face kind of arrogance, the kind of which makes the rest of the world hate us.??

I have chosen to live my life with TOLERANCE and DIVERSITY. Despite having watched the towers fall down out my BEDROOM WINDOW, I still believe that a better way to fight terrorism is NOT to go spread it around the world, but to face it here in our own country where our governments, churches, schools and media are literally terrorizing us into submission - telling us what to think, how to think and WHY we have these thoughts in the first place! Perhaps there are those of you among us who have not experienced the freedom of an original, unpopular, derisive thought....pity...they can be vastly liberating!

Perhaps if our leaders could figure out the answers to WHY those in other countries hate us so much, then perhaps we could FIX what is wrong here before we start telling the rest of the world how it ought to live! - I mean look at our farcical foreign policy just to start... we had no problem supporting and helping Afghanistan, including the Taliban, as long as they were fighting the Russians, but as soon as the Russians left, we tossed off Afghanistan, in the words of a friend, like a used condom! Go ahead, curse France all you want, it is NOT an original thought. People have hated the French for years for their snotty, anti-American attitudes which are perpetuated by the arrogant, rude American tourist, but the bottom line is that they are a free country and we are NOT the boss of them, and they are entitled to their opinions of our actions. Sure, we saved their ass twice, sure they provide arms to our enemies, but to expect, demand, require, loyalty? Puh- leeeeeeze.

But then, this IS America, the country where we blame our schools and those fags and Jews in Hollywood for our illiterate, drug dependent children, where we whine about gas prices as we drive our 4 wheel drive SUVs through the crowded, polluted downtown streets of our nation, where we think we can deny a woman the right to her own body and where a president who loses the popular vote can still be elected to president. God MUST really love America!!
 
Just what is so STUPID or naive or LIBERAL about being opposed to war and the ugly subversive tactics this country uses? What is STUPID or naive or LIBERAL about being disturbed by what we saw happen in the middle east, in Darfur, in Libya, in  Tibet and more and more, and what about what is happening HERE, where the very idea of Free Speech is being challenged?

I am tired...I need a hole to hide in somewhere....

let the healing begin.....sort of

They got him...they got Bin Laden today, as you probably already know, but I needed to write something on this very important May Day - a day to remember.  While the debates and questions are just beginning anew, I wanted a few minutes to just let the feelings wash over me -  elation, not quite "happiness." Definitely relief...whatever the word, this wicked symbol of when my world turned in on itself was GONE...I know the media and Donald Trump will do their best to ruin this speck of joy tomorrow...but I will go to bed knowing one little splinter in the rug burn of my life has been extracted, and for now, no one is pouring salt and lemon juice in the wound.

On a separate, but perhaps related, issue, I went to an audition tonight...the first in over a decade, maybe 20 - usually I am the director, or I am "drafted" into performing, but I had always loved auditions - I always felt totally at ease, cold readings were my forte, and....tonight...I didn't do well; I felt awkward, and ill prepared. I will admit, the play I was auditioning for called for a completely different frame of mind than I was in when I went in.  (I had been listening to Barack Obama in the car before I went in, and I should have been listening to something a little more morose...).

For more than a year now, I have had this little niggling worry that my life was on a dangerous course and that my calling may have shifted....After the last play I directed, something died...the drive and desire to direct, or be involved in any other way was simply gone - heck even to go SEE theatre at some times, was a chore!  I just don't care about it any more. What do you do when your passion of 3 decades no longer makes you happy or gives you a reason to get up in the morning? Is my life now doomed to be just my job and the odd vacation?  

As I was getting out of the car after the audition, the thought crossed my mind that at least NOW I could FINALLY get rid of those 6 boxes of plays and voice books, and scripts and props and costumes that I have been tripping over for ever.  If for no other reason than I could actually maybe put a guest bed in here.....but that feels so superficial...am I really gonna just throw it away? I have an amazing library and collection of STUFF....

ehhhh...like Scarlet, I will think about it tomorrow. For now...Public Enemy #1, the face of Evil, the spectre of death who has haunted my dreams for almost a decade is dead. And frankly my dear, I am damn glad!

Good night....