I saw your tongue; it licked my heart

There's something I'm noticing about myself that is kind of puzzling, mildly amusing, and also manages to register on the 'sad/pathetic' scale. Now, I've heard people say this about themselves but there has always been something that sets my version apart from theirs. Not that I'm the only person in the world that is like this, but I'm the only person I know that takes it to this extremity. I don't do it consciously but on some level, I'm doing it intentionally. So I am my own worst enemy in trying to protect myself. Or I have a bizarre pshchological/emotional S&M streak a mile wide.

Here's the thing. The only guys I seem to be interested in are the ones that I can't have. They are unattainable for one reason or another. And it's not that they choose me, I choose them. Well, that's not entirely true, let me rephrase that. I don't consciously choose them but there is a part of me that hones in on this 'not available' thing and that's all it takes. Honestly, you could line up triplets and I'd be attracted to the one that is out of bounds, so to speak. Often this means married, which oddly is probably the thing that attracts me anyway. Not them being married but an attitude that has been cultivated through marriage. A guy I work with is like this. He's maybe 10 years older than I am, married, and has this amazingly dry, dark, caustic, quick wit. That's the main draw. But he also has this laid back air that sort of says to the world, 'You? I'm not trying to impress you. I'd have to acknowledge you further before I decide to impress you. I do what I do for me, simply put.' It's not arrogance, either. I equate this to a female that is in a relationship so she has no need to get all dolled up to run to the store - she's got what she wants so she has no need to impress anyone else. Otherwise you know most girls put on makeup to walk to their mailbox. By this guy at work having no need to impress anyone paired with that wit... I was drawn to him, most certainly. And in a strong way. None of it is physical, though.

There's also the other factor I adore. That is brains. No, not in a jar on the shelf, although that does have it's time and place, which usually revolves around a Far Side cartoon. Anyway. My neurologist. I just had an appointment this week. The first time I saw him it was all the 'get to know ya' thing. Then we had numerous phone conversations about test results and such but he seemed more relaxed with each one and I think that's normal as familiarity builds. So I go to this appointment and here's this thin, pale baby-faced doc that I've seen already and spoken to at length. But something is different. He knows of my medical background and elaborates extensively using precise medical terminology. If I don't understand something, he breaks it down a bit more but always goes back to doc-speak. But now, he's also able to add levity to the mix. So here in front of me is this uber-intelligent guy that goes from professional status to quietly breaking into a huge grin and semi-witty remark. It's the low-key intelligence that does it. Switch gears to humor and I'm sold. But of course, I'm not. He's married. And I'm not looking to hook up with a doctor. His intelligence could come from being a micro biological fertilizer analyst, math whiz, you name it. See, I'm a girl who would immediately fall for Stephen Hawking. Well, unless he's a huge jerk or something.

There's one guy I did fall for a long time ago. He is probably still the gold standard. But six years later, no one has ever come close. Before I met him, I'd never felt that close to any guy. Did I love him? I don't know. I think I did but I really didn't know how, so I told myself I didn't. My history is fucked up at best so it's something I never learned how to do. Joe was smart in the way that he had common sense. He loved fun, could laugh at himself, and was a very open person once he trusted you. The one thing he could never get past was his hatred toward his ex-wife. It was the undercurrent that ran below every surface. No matter how much we shared, there was always a little blonde-haired wedge between us, and she was completely out of the picture. He didn't outwardly want it that way but I think there was a part of that resentment that he harbored that served him. In some way. So, with me being about 8 months pre bipolar disorder diagnosis I was in the most unstable emotional place but I didn't know it. I just thought that's how I felt. It was, but magnify it a zillion times, twist it, reverse it, wrap it in a hallucinogen and that's the version I had. If I'd known my words would spark the beginning of the end I might have rethought them. He was the first real chance I took, being in a sort of normal relationship.

Six years later and I'm still struggling. Not with losing him, I mean, I hope he's tremendously happy. There was a time I wanted his happiness to include me, but if he's happy, I don't care who it includes. Since that time, I've distanced myself from guys. I think that the little positive knowledge that I had was used up there and that if that, the best I had, didn't work, then I'm just not sure what I can offer. But I think I want to, and yet I have thrown up barriers. These barriers include training myself to seek out unavailable men. If I think your wit is stellar or you have a fabulous mind or your creativity is off the charts, what good does it do me to be attracted to you if you are married, or moving to Guam next week, or are a fan of boy bands. None. I think I protectively choose these sorts so that I don't have to chance it again. Chancing it scares me because I honestly don't think I can take much more in before I start shooting from rooftops. And I'm not kidding.

So for wanting something so much, there's a part of me that keeps it away because if it doesn't go spectacularly well, I do fear the outcome. I write alot about how I feel in this blog because if I don't get some of it out, it'll consume me. But I still don't tell you the worst of it and none of us can ever adequately convey the depth of the emotion we feel because it is often all pervasive. I find it interesting that this self-protective mechanism is a sabotage of sorts.

Humans are a funny lot, eh?

I've been everywhere man, I've been everywhere...

Aside from the swollen feet/ankles/legs (sitting endlessly), repeatedly playing "How many seat protectors/layers of toilet paper must I put down before I can relax enough to even pee?" (I curse my hamster-bladder), and succumbing to the notion that eating overly processed food from a machine along the interstate is somehow a reasonable thing (that most likely leads to the swelling and peeing)... aside from that, I love to travel. Traveling is one of the few dreams I have. Or one of the few I have that I still believe in, I should say.

So, with next to no planning, I, er, planned a trip. Mom and I were to leave around 7am but truth be told, we could've left at 2am. We wanted to book a hotel for the first night which didn't come together until about midnight, maybe a little later, but it was right around the time we got directions to get to that first point. Bedtime was around, oh, 1am or so. I do use the term 'bedtime' loosely because neither of us slept more than an hour. It was a rough start but we made it there, got something quick to eat, made it to the room with daylight to spare and then planned a bit for the next day before going to bed.

We took a drive through Durham, NC which is home to many notable organizations including Duke University (chapel/grounds shown) and Research Triangle Park (RTP). Durham is known as the City of Medicine and I was in all my nerd-glory when I was driving through RTP past Bayer, GlaxoSmithKline, Syngenta and numerous other giants in the medical/scientific field. The city is not too big and it is clean. Well, compared to living up here in the rust belt, it's clean!

Next was Durham's sort of 'sister city' - Raleigh, NC. Now Raleigh provides a border for Research Triangle but is almost twice the size of Durham. Even so, there are very few large buildings. I mean maybe the tallest is, I don't know, 50 stories? I'm all for that. I don't dislike large buildings per se but they block out the light. And I have no real purpose for being in them, that's not the kind of life I lead. Like Durham, it was clean, great historic areas, charming architecture, rather inviting for the most part.

A few things I noticed about the south, and this isn't even the deep south... but it's clean. Oh, and people still have manners. I witnessed four things that almost made me fall over: a man asked me (a female) how to operate a particular gas pump (machinery...), another man pubicly and without shame asked for directions. At two different times, two different men held the door (I almost fainted) and when I had to go into a mall for something, not only did the associate tell me where the item was located, he walked there with me and helped me look. If any of you are from the north, you know that for the most part, those kinds of things are unheard of. Or they have been for at least the past 40 years. People here are generally rude. And I must admit that I loved all the flowers. There was one flowering tree, loved it but don't what it was, looked almost lilac-y; they were everywhere, even along the freeway along with hundreds and hundreds of lilies. Living in an often dreary location, I really appreciated that.

Off we sailed, so to speak, to Virginia. I wanted to hit Hampton, Chesapeake, Norfolk and Richmond. Funny thing is that we stayed about an hour away and while watching the 11p news, we learned that there had been either two or three 'bomb' issues in that area (complete with city block/road closures) along with an anthrax scare. Eesh. When we woke up a special bulletin alerted us that I-95 had been closed due to a collision between a car and a semi leaving the latter short by about 100 gallons of diesel fuel. It was all over the road and you were not permitted to pass. Hmm. Ok then, moving right along.... just not on I-95... we took the hint. We apparently weren't supposed to be up there. Literal roadblocks everywhere. So we took off and went back through Raleigh and Durham. Only later did we hear that there was also a tornado in VA. Hey, I consider it that the forces of nature were guiding me elsewhere.

I'd hoped they'd guide me to Charleston, SC but my mother said it was too far to go. I should have just driven anyway; it was my car after all. Charleston will hopefully be a place I can do a weekend trip flight to in the very near future. I want to go there in a bad way! Perhaps it's the combination of palm trees, that stunning architecture and the ocean. Anyway, we stayed in Mt. Airy for the night. Does anyone know what it's claim to fame is? I didn't either, but I quickly learned. It's Andy Griffith's home town! It's Mayberry for crissakes! They even have a Floyd's barber shop. How adorable. And... now this important. There, in Andy Griffith's home town, also where Chang and Eng lived, is the absolute best Mexican restaurant that I've ever visited. Half of the employees didn't speak more than maybe 20 words in english and perhaps they really did live up to the term 'authentic' that was noted there. I'm a fan of Mexican food and I've tried alot. We had a great meal at a place in Emporia, VA but even that paled in comparison to this place. I would have gladly become temporarily bulimic and continued eating but they were closing. I wonder if the restaurant ever made it into an episode of Matlock...

The next morning, we headed back to Ohio. A little south of Akron/Canton, my allergy related itching came back with a vengeance. Funny, I hadn't really realized it was gone until it came back. It was nice to get home and to not be living out of a car, but I wish I had more time there. All in all I had a positive impression. We'll see what happens next.

Traveling is great. Even with getting lost, unintentionally busting into a Sonic (how was I to know that you didn't go in, that they actually came to you in your car... sheesh!), and all those other little things that make you feel out of your element, traveling is wonderful. I haven't exactly been everywhere... but enough to make Johnny proud. ;)

The 'joy' of a welfare Christmas

It's kind of funny to think that after so much hard work you end up in a place that is no better than where you started. Or worse yet, a place that is actually brittle from lack of promise. Some would say that you have to make your own promise and hope. I'd like to hit those people. Hard. Although I still might do that, I'm contemplating a 4-5 day trip; mom might come along. Sometimes I think she offers because she doesn't trust what I'd do if left to my own devices. So, the purpose? I'm checking out new places, new cities. Again, some would say I'm running from as opposed to running to again. If I let myself think about it, I might draw the same conclusion. For the moment, though, I prefer not to think that hard. Update soon.

Hide the cutlery

The job is not mine.

Back to square one.

But I don't have the strength.

Will idiots ever stop breeding?

So I've been feeling all sorts of things lately knowing that even though it's not the end of the world, it still feels like shit. And then I read this. What in the hell is wrong with people? There are so many things wrong with this that I don't know where to begin.

I'm watching a friend's house for a couple days. Goof (her cat) says I must play with her NOW. I'll visit you all when I get back home.

What about a Do-Over?

Just got off the phone with the Director at the school and learned that my trouble student will in fact be returning. His reasons were lame, at best. So that triggered it. I told him that it just wasn't working for me. None of it. He was really surprised and tried to discuss it with me. I was maintaining composure and figured I shouldn't push it, so I told him we could talk later.

I hung up the phone, cried, and cursed the decisions I've made. When I realized I'd be making more decisions again soon, I cried even more.

I don't think I like today.

I thought I loved you; it was just how you looked in the light

Well. Remember the job I applied for? They want to interview me. Tomorrow. (And here I was so sure they filled the position as it had been removed from the job board...) I have so much to do between now and then. I'm truly not holding my breath, but I am excited over the idea that other options can surface. So back to Pittsburgh I go - for an interview. There's a part of me that is a little apprehensive in regard to how I'll feel when I go back there.

Some might consider me a little crazy. I might be one of them. =)

I'll update you, but until then, have a listen to two of my new favorites. They're really a little different, some sort of fusion going on. Check out the songs Chaos by Mute Math and Hang Me Up To Dry by Cold War Kids. Have a listen. You know you want to... Or just do it because I'm asking nicely.

Ok, off to find an interview outfit... What DO crazy people wear to interview these days?

I don't wait well.

Unless of course I've forgotten about whatever it is that I'm waiting on. In that instance a crummy memory is somewhat helpful.

For now I'm waiting for test results, waiting to see what happens with either job, and waiting for support and some sort of backing from my one boss. Perhaps I simply expect too much.

I applied for a job that would have been pretty cool I suppose but didn't hear anything. Not such a big deal really but I realized I was somewhat disappointed. I'm just not sure if that was because I didn't hear about the job or that it meant staying where I am now. Tough call.

So for now, I wait. And I'm just no good at it.

Do you even want to try to find me?

There was always a line in a song that intrigued me. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget. We can thank the Eagles for that bit of insight. For a long time I thought that was true. Now, although I see truth in it, I don't see it as the end of the line as far as options go.

I got some new CDs and of course, by the time I received them yesterday, I had almost completely forgotten what I'd ordered. Typical. The first one I played was INXS. Now, INXS and I go way back. Way. Listen Like Thieves, Don't Change, The One Thing; all of them finding freedom through my car windows yesterday. And do you know why I love those songs the most? Other than the fact that they are great songs... it's because I don't connect them to anything. With them, I don't remember, I don't forget. One of the few things I can compare to an untainted joy.

Then after a bit of a rough night at school, I was shocked by hearing Sometimes Salvation on the radio. (Give it about 20+ seconds, it's screwy.) There was so much going on in my life when the Black Crowes CD came out yet I really only have one memory that I can connect to it. When Jealous Again, the first track from Shake Your Money Maker was released, my mom and I were in two different places and heard the local station air it for the first time. The next day, that was the first thing we said to each other because it made such an impression, not even knowing the other had heard it. But that's it. No drama, although I'm sure it occurred. No sadness, which I'm sure was there. Not even thoughts of happy, silly times. Just the feeling of the music being there, and being somehow right.

There is a memory that remains; I saw them both in concert in Pittsburgh. Although both were amazing, there's a little more gratitude with INXS.

Things are uncertain at best at this time. Yesterday I had two reminders, one from some stylish Aussies, one from a bunch of good ol' southern boys, that you don't always need to remember, or to forget. It's very liberating to just be. If even for a moment.
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Cast your vote!

How about some input? Yeah, I'm talking to you. And you, too. Ok, I see you reaching over to click away from this blog but remember, I know people... spammers in fact. If you leave now, I can see to it that your inbox is overflowing with emails that would make Ron Jeremy blush.

Ok, not really. But I want to know if anyone out there knows of a better place to live. Yes, 'better' is relative, blah, blah, blah. Either someplace you've been to or perhaps you know someone that lives in a place that sounds like what I'm seeking...

Things I want: mainly warm temps, sun, water, not a giant city, no Deliverance banjos, economically sound, blend of people, semi laid back, education and employment opportunities a definite plus.

Things I don't want: lake effect snow, freezing temps half the year, failing economy, limited growth potential, major metro area, someplace that sucks the life out of you.

Any ideas?

My head may well split like a dropped tomato, ow.

If anyone tried to comment during the past 12 hours or so, I mistakenly restricted comment access. Oops. I was getting rid of word verification. I'm going to try it without that feature for a while. I am so very sick of it and detest having to do it on my own blog.

So here's two things I learned today. First, remember the EEG that yielded no results because the equipment malfunctioned? Well, I had everything redone and got the results today. Well, sort of. Ha. The doc called and told me that the sleep study looked ok but what he really is interested in seeing is the extended EEG. Which he went on to explain he didn't have. Claims results should never take this long. He's frustrated, I'm frustrated. But when he gets the results, I'm sure it'll say everything's 'normal'. I mean, of course it would, that would make things more difficult.

The other thing is about the school. I'm not sure how much I've said about it but things are not going in a positive way. We're switching books and therefore lectures. I asked the other instructor if there were new term lists and she said she had no idea, that she's only been on the new edition for about a month. Thought that was weird as she would have known by now. So tonight I find a stash of term lists in the back of her binder. New ones. Hidden. Ok, is this how they transition new instructors? Make them run around asking for new info and hiding it somewhere? Isn't this supposed to be about the students? I can't blend with that sort of mentality.

Oh, and I'm finding that bluetooth sucks. Either the headsets I've tried or the connection or some such thing. I think it's going back to the Sprint store. Again. They're going to get a restraining order for me pretty soon. ;)

On one hand, I can only roll my eyes at some things; that's how things go. Others, they get to me more. But what's one without the other? I mean, if I got rid of some of these things, I may not actually be nausous all the time.

Just off the key of reason

True, I'm not evil. Then again I suppose that all depends on who you ask. As time went on in my life, I developed a very dark side but while that was happening, I refused to acknowledge it. That's where the previous post came from. It was the immediate magnification and scrutiny of the person I've become, not the person I was. No longer can I paint a sweet little picture of myself. Well I can, but I know there's more to it under the surface. Others don't know. That's my protection. But I do have regrets, things I would have done differently. Maybe.

The flip side of this is that it made me think of a few things about me that I kind of see as things that a 'good' person would do. Or at least these are things that I do that I'm hoping just don't suck as much. Some of these are just based on being senstitive but part of me thinks that the two can be interchangable.

• I stop to move turtles off the road. Even snappers. That pee on me. Ew.
• On the occasions when I experience something I really like, it's often marked by an overwhelming feeling, tears and the inability to speak.
• I have the same reaction when face to face with one or more veterans (think WWII, in uniform, Memorial Day...). They remind me of what they gave for freedom.
• Without fail I will watch decades old episodes of Matlock and Perry Mason because my gram wants to. And I don't complain, ever.
• I've anonymously made payments on patients' bills at a couple places I've worked. They had very little money and spent what they could on their pets, which often couldn't save them. I made sure there was never a trail back to me.
• When I heard a patient crying alone in her room that she didn't want to die, I bought her a card, hand wrote a message, and placed it bedside while she slept. I didn't tell anyone.

None of these things in and of themselves are things that make a person worthy of being termed a good person. But in comparison, I'd say that it's a step in the right direction. What I see in my little list is that these are things that are good by no one's standards but my own. These aren't things that were done for glory. I mean the turtles never even write... Anyway.

So I see that nothing is one sided. I've made myself focus on this side of me for a moment. It does not, for one moment, change the awful things I've done. It's not meant to. Life has forced me to behave in ways that may not make much sense, but I've done the best I could. Often, that's still not nearly enough. Can I atone? Should I atone? I don't think there's a simple answer to that.

One thing I know is that when I behave horribly, it is because part of me has been pushed. On those occasions when I act out of something good, simple and pure, it is just that. At this time, I don't have an explanation for either. Maybe I'll just have to accept that for now.

It won't begin until you make it end

When you take the time to sit back and take inventory of your life, you need to be prepared. Truth be told, gleeful ignorance is much easier on you, but you learn nothing. What is to be learned is not for the weak nor is it something that you can forget once you've caught a glimpse.

My mother constantly asks me why I have such a dark, angry side. She's the only one that really sees the possibilities of it, everyone else pretty much knows me a bit differently. Don't get me wrong, I'm one of the goofiest, silliest people you'll ever meet. I love humor and laughter and I smile and I'm polite. But there's something that doesn't fully mesh.

Somewhere along the way the hunted became the hunter. No, that's not reversed. Growing up, I had some terrible experiences. Hell, as an adult I've had some terrible experiences. If you've been around here long enough, you may recall. Many of these things led me to feel weak, helpless, paranoid, numb, filthy, and just wrong. Some are recurring themes.

Fast forward. I have taken the feeling of being preyed upon and flipped it. Perhaps it's because I still feel out of control, but now, instead of feeling like the one being hunted, I am the hunter. I've done things just because I could. I've used that very dark and angry side to create a web that continues to grow. There is a sick part of me that would back you into a corner, leaving you unsure which is more threatening, the gleam in my eye or the flash of a knife blade. Once you're sufficiently terrified, I can begin to back away, to reassure you that it was all an overreaction and even hand the blade over to you in a goodwill gesture. Only when I see a glimmer of hope would I plunge the blade in and gut you where you stood; your hand still wrapped around the knife. And I can walk away saying 'but they did it to themselves - look, their hand is on the knife!' As a twist, I've turned that behavior on myself numerous times. There's only so much control I have, or want to have, over it.

And this is how I've been living my life. I can't figure when things went wrong, really. All I know is that I've done some things that I never thought I'd do. And not just once, numerous times. I became a person that I never would have willingly associated with. Which makes me wonder if that's why I have this duality thing - one part of me doesn't want to associate with the other. How did this start? There's always been a bit of a dark side, but nothing worrisome. The anger is from years of fear. Once that was a safety mechanism but it has since taken over. Add in numerous bad decisions, a handful of hardcore partying years, the bipolar battle, and an almost unbelievable track record with bad/weird luck.

The hardest part is coming to terms with the fact that I am not as good a person as I tricked myself into believing. I used to be, but not anymore. So maybe it's karma or something of the like that explains why my life is fizzling. I think I believe that you get back what you put out. And I've put out alot of bad shit. It would seem that karma doesn't care whether you were in a tortured state of self preservation at the time, bad is bad. But I'm partially good so I suppose I do get good back - I figure this because I'm not dead yet. Some days I'm not sure that belongs in the 'good' category.

Survey says: I'm mean, spiteful, and have more anger in me than one person should. Worse, I'm willing to unleash it. Perhaps it's punishment, perhaps I'm simply comic relief for the gods. I'm just looking at the way things have gone and realized that many of the important things have fallen away. Everything is a struggle. Could this be payback for my rotten behavior? I never meant to become a bad person. I spent too much time being hunted then one day I learned I could hunt for myself. Maybe I thought being the hunter would make me forget that after all is said and done, I still feel hunted; always will. I have to find a balance. I'm not sulking, I'm just seeing things for what they are. If I acknowledge it, that's the only way to move on and find that balance.

So remember, when you sit back and take inventory of your life you may realize why you've kept every minute of every day busy, being an overachiever. It kept you just busy enough to avoid looking at a part of yourself that you never wanted to see.

The little nothings

I've been alot of places and seen alot of things. I've been part of experiences and experiments both. There are days when I'm certain that there is enough residue left to compile a book. Two books. At least. As time goes on I find that I'm grateful for pretty much all of it.

The one thing that always trips me up is human interaction. We sabotage so many things. We believe words that we know aren't true. We say words that aren't true. If you follow the theory of evolution, I don't think we are necessarily the next step beyond primates but instead some genetic mishap. An offshoot that has the primate world vehemently denying any connection.

When you find someone you connect with, in any given way, that's generally a positive thing. You build some sort of relationship on that, trusting that this person is what they say they are. One day, you realize how much this person means to you and you value them just for being them. This is a reciprocal process. You share and you trust and you give and you take.

Until you don't. Something utterly unbeknownst to you shifts. Things aren't the same. Not even remotely so. Apparently you aren't even worthy of the truth any longer. It would seem you are worthy of nothing, because that is all you are given. And so a part of you, me... a part of me rationalizes, cops an attitude and squarely gives you the finger. It may be laziness or boredom or who-knows-what on your part, but fuck you for leaving me feeling like shit, intentional or not. The other part of me will quietly walk away, not wanting to know what it was about me that you deemed unworthy of friendship.

By distancing me, you never gave me an option. Funny, you probably don't even know that I feel this way. In your mind things may still be fine. I can still see you, but you're not there. You've become just another page in the book.

It shouldn't bother me, but it does.

A monkey in the gears

Talk about a mish-mosh post. Just a few things clinging to my brain more than others at this moment, so as usual, you will be subjected to it. Lucky you. ;)

First, might I take this moment to say that I hate text messaging? No, I mean I think it is rude. Who are you to assume that I would like to pay extra to read your truncated version of three words that I'll most likely not understand anyway? See, at that point I end up calling you and what do you know - I can understand you and it's included in my plan! So, you could call me, but you instead make the incorrect assumption that I'd like to decipher your version of shorthand. I would not like to. I doubt I will ever like to. Do not text message me. I hate it and I will hate you. Moving right along...

Here's proof of the miracles that can be performed these days with arthroscopic surgery. See those two little teeny (redundant, I know) incisions? That's it. No huge map-like wounds to heal. There's still swelling and some bruising, but I think minimally invasive surgical procedures are fantastic. Three more weeks on crutches. That may be the part that rakes up my last bits of sanity and drop kicks it with one rigid, aluminum, rubber-stopped leg.

There are wheels turning in my head. Ok, I'll admit, perhaps not so much 'turning' as doggedly grinding away ages of rust and fighting against the remains of a lifetime of over used tar-like grease that has gummed up the works. Sometimes (which I think may be my new favorite word) I think I can hear it all going on up there. This fight between the old and new. The stagnant grip of complacency battling the determined emergence of a far away hope.

Before I go further I need to think. About that last part I wrote, I need to add to it. In another post because I think it's a life theme. But there is something going on in my head about that. For now, here's a picture of my new favorite tree. Yes, I have favorite trees. I only know them when I see them, I can't hunt for them. But this one I found by taking a wrong turn. Perhaps that's a concept we can all identify with at some point.

Absolutely gorgeous! I haven't identified the tree but it is huge; the small items underneath near the trunk are actually large wooden adirondack chairs. I may go back and see this spectacular tree with leaves but I like it just as it is here. Maybe it doesn't even have leaves anymore. It's perched right at the edge of the lake. I really wish each of you could see it; of course the property owners might not be too thrilled...

Cankers & Medallions

If I speak
at one constant volume
at one constant pitch
at one constant rhythm
right into you ear,
you still won't hear
you still won't hear
you still won't hear...


During my recuperation from surgery, I thought of all these lovely topics to blog about. Real topics, no matter how skewed they may seem to some. Yeah well, I never wrote them down so that's pretty much gone unless I remember some things by chance. Right now I have so much going on that I don't know where to start. As usual, I think I'll just babble.

Most things I say here will have an up side and a down side. Some will be clear, some - not so much. I may elaborate later. I'm really looking forward to catching up here in BlogLand. Come to think of it, that's how I'll know that my life is back on track! I looked at things and I get really shitty with blogging/visiting blogs when my life is crummy. Who knew blogging (or lack of) would be a red flag of sorts... isn't it usually the opposite? ;)

Anyway. I made it through surgery (like you hadn't caught onto that so far...). Honestly, it was a breeze. I feel fortunate to have had the luck to wake up from the procedure and start joking with the nurses about 10 seconds later. Aside from a bit of nausea and unsteadiness, I was fine. I took my Percocet for the first two to three days but then shelved them. They made me a little tired and nauseous and I didn't think the level of discomfort I had warranted such a heavy hitter in the world of pain meds, you know? Since then it's been ibuprofen and ice on the knee...

Went for my one week (8 day?) recheck and learned that it's doing well but I have to be on crutches another full month. ARGH! Apparently the problem was plural... tendon 'somethingorother' (fixed with a few snips), a torn meniscus (didn't see that one coming!), and enough arthritis to warrant shaving down the femur/cartilage. No drilling but he is worried the cartilage may be bruised/dying or some other term that means big problems. That's why I am on the crutches for so long. But it is healing well and discomfort is minimal so I can't complain. When I go back at the beginning of June, we should know more...

Of course this means I can't work at the hospital. And I left messages (two each) for the manager and the lead tech giving them the info, telling them that the paperwork was being sent to the department that handles the medical leave and requested for them to call me. Neither one has. Wow. A not so subtle way to convey their thoughts, wouldn't you say? Besides, they never even said one kind word prior to my surgery. As far as I know, they never even secretly wished I didn't wake up from ansethesia. Well, for the moment I'm using them for the insurance. When the time comes, I'll tell them to fuck off if they don't tell me that first...

But the school. Oh yes. The realm of higher education sent to rescue me from the common-folk. The kind individuals that sought me out to offer me a place in their little world. Now they were different. They didn't ignore my surgery and had someone prepared to cover my classes. Rather understanding. This has taught me that 'understanding' and 'follow through' are two entirely different concepts. I spoke to a student the other day and found that the person covering for me wasn't there several days and didn't go over more than half of the things they were supposed to, including hands-on labs and three tests. And now we are almost at the end of the module/semester and I don't think enough time exists to finish it. I feel like a bitch but I had to address this with the director. If they hate me because of it, then so be it. Truthfully, it's the students that are suffering. My current class graduates in November but I get new freshmen in one month. I don't think I'll be there for the new ones to graduate but I've committed myself to the current students and I'm keeping that in mind...

And I've been thinking of moving. You might all think I'm nuts. Meh. I'm not fully sure I'd disagree with you. I don't want to weather another Cleveland winter and in some way, I just need to get out of here. Yes, I KNOW I just came back. But, and here's one for you to ponder, although I can't say I regret my decision to move back here, it's been one of the most vile experiences of my life. But I think I had to live this to learn from it...

Today as I packed my things and saw the sadness in my gram's eyes as I did so, I felt like one of those gladiators that would be tossed into the ring with a lion or some such beastie. I was packing up and leaving that safety to face situations that would rather eat me alive than anything else. It makes you question your sanity when you are doing that willingly...

Although thinking of one situation can steer your mind away from another, even when they are both bad. Today I took my kitty Isabella to the vet as she was limping a bit. After her exam, which wasn't too remarkable, we did an Xray. None of us were prepared for what we saw. Her left hip joint is almost not recognizable; gone in some places, large, porous overgrowths in others. It's misshapen and full of holes. It more closely resembles a torn sponge or piece of jagged lava rock than a joint. The vet has two theories without a biopsy. Rheumatoid arthritis or cancer (of the cartilage or synovial/joint fluid). He gave her three to eight months with daily pain meds. An amputation was mentioned. He said he didn't think he ever saw a joint so bad on an animal that barely displayed any signs, or possibly ever. I'm waiting for blood work but that's just to buy me some time. Shock doesn't even begin to cover that.

But there are things in this post that are good. They are all wrapped in things that blatantly suck, but hey, that's often the way. For now, I'm just trying to take in all this stuff. And this is just some. Lots of thoughts and emotions but for right now, I'm just happy that surgery went well. The outcome is undetermined, but the procedure went well. And now it's time for me to rest and come back over the next few days to start catching up. Hope everyone reading is doing well!

I only get religious when I pray that I don't talk in my sleep

This just made me laugh - that's why it's here, no other reason.

So here it is, 35 hours until surgery. What is there to say? The as of yet unknown procedure will determine how quickly I'm back. My ginormous knee and I will be recouping at Gram's so I should get some rest. Too bad I have to have surgery to rest.

Until then, be well, play nice; oh hell, poke each other with sticks if you want, but have good stories to tell me when I get back. ;)

Is it weird that my biggest concern at the moment is that I'll pee on myself under anesthesia?

And antiquated notions...

Remember how last week I said I'd be getting back into the swing of things with the blog? I lied. Unintentionally, but still. I'm working like an idiot and might be in the middle of a 10 day stretch right now. My first day off would be for surgery; nice.

This week I fit in pre-op testing, an EKG, and a sleep study/EEG. As it turns out, my MRI was fine (yay) but there was something abnormal with the brain waves from the EEG. Shocking, eh? So as things go in my life, this is rather normal: work my late shift, wake up after 4 hours of crappy sleep and go work my self into a stupor at the hospital. Come home, learn that I can have a sleep study/EEG done that night and head off to school to teach. I go straight to the hospital for the test where they have difficulties finding the proper machine as the doc wants so much info for this test. It takes three people over two hours to hook me up! I don't think many more electrodes could've fit on me. Of course after all that I had to pee. =) But at one in the morning - 21 hours after I woke up from my pitiful fours hours of sleep, I got the chance to sleep. But the room was a little light. And the nasal canula sort of sensor they shoved half way into my nose was a bit distracting. And there was a fan blowing which was noisy and made me cold. I wasn't permitted to have but one small blanket so the twitching/muscle contractions could be observed while they filmed me there. In bed. Alone. With wires and electrodes. On every part of my body. Hmm, almost like Blade Runner bondage porn in the making.

So after waking up from more crappy sleep, I got to dig the goo, adhesive, and what appeared to be spackling compound out of my hair. I used the low wall-mounted attachment and washed my hair about three times while standing out of the tub. My intention was to fully shower there but when I saw an unknown pubic hair staring up at me from the bottom of the tub I opted out. Maybe by Tuesday or Wednesday the doc will have some sort of answer. I mean for the abnormal EEG, not the item in the tub.

Over the next couple days I'll be hopping around a bit hoping to catch everyone before I leave for another week; this time for surgery. Hope things are just hunky-dory for everyone out there. Just remember, watch where you step, especially in unfamiliar bathtubs.

Uh, gimme a beat, will ya' G?

I've been absent from the blog world this past week and I found that bothersome. Working 13 days straight kicked my ass and having time to check in on things would have been a welcome distraction. But today is 13/13 then tomorrow I have off. Lots to do and places to be, but at least I'm not at either job.

Today I learned that I'll be having knee surgery on April 24th. I have lots 'wrong' with me (albeit, moslty mental, haha) but haven't had to have surgery since I was very young and don't really remember it. This may also be the beginning of the end as far as my job at the hospital is concerned. Who knows about the other job.

So I sit and I wait. And I see what they do based on what happens with my knee. Even if that goes well, I'm still waiting on results from the brain MRI and EEG. Just saying that if I pass one part of it, the other is sure to trip me up. Funny thing is, I'm not unhappy about that. I just wish it was more on my terms, though some of it is. Even if things fuck up, I am a control freak, what can I say?

And I learned that a friend of mine is now engaged. He never thought he would be. And the guy that I was close to in Pittsburgh gets edgy when I don't call him back right away yet he has started seeing someone. And a female pharmacist I worked with in Pittsburgh is in a new position and offered to help me find a better job (she's a recruiter) in either Ohio or Pittsburgh. When one door closes another opens, right? Then again, you could just get stuck in the vestibule. Meh, not a concern. Not today.

I'm hoping to get a few minutes on here tonight after work so I can catch up on blogs. Sometimes it still baffles me that there are people I've never met in person, yet I think about them and their situations more than I do with some people I know personally.

Oh, for those that are slightly twisted, as I am, here's a fun little game for you. Would've been great for Easter but hey, I'm rarely on time.

And, for some reason, this song just slammed into my head today, er, pretty much like 5 minutes ago. I think there are some lyrics in this song that are trying to get my attention. Kind of like the name; Live Through This. Anyone remember it? This song fit into the middle of one of my favorite time frames for music. Ah, good times!

Off I go... to spread the news of my upcoming surgery with one of my employers. I'll catch up with you guys soon. Very soon! ;)

Furthermore...

I cannot compete with the living or the dead. I can truly only compete against myself; which says two things.

• I'm too non-committal to join the ranks of the living or the dead.
• Victory is bittersweet. One way or another I'm going to kick my own ass.

Taxes make me nauseous

Good thing they are in no way complicated. They are the easiest of the easy. With the exception of residency. And me with less than two weeks til the deadline trying to figure this out.

See, the Feds, they couldn't give a shit where I live or for how long. I like them. But the state... ugh, and worse... the CITY! I mean, you'd think the prosperity of the entire city and surrounding area is nestled deeply in the midst of the taxes paid on my paltry earnings. It is odd though, local tax seems to be twice that of state tax.

I'll gladly pay the Feds more to not give a shit about my whereabouts. I mean, they always get their money anyway. Rule of thumb - always move at midnight on December 31st. That way you are not caught on the edge of some arbitrary determination that requests that you go to your new locality's tax collector and basically ask them to fill out a permission slip stating that you haven't lied about living there. Maybe they can contribute to my beverage fund for the field trip, too. Bastards. So may rules.

Do tax people even irritate themselves?

Oh yeah, remember my lovely little skull shoes? Four weeks. Four weeks to transfer them from a store that is about an hour and a half away. Then again, maybe they're walking?...

Quick post here; perhaps the post'll be shorter than the title but thats fine - I'm secure in the length of my... oops, must be too much spam!

On the bright side, I'm glad the spammers thoughtfully think of ways to enlarge my penis. And then, they repeatedly send it to me. Day after freakin' day. Sigh. Oh well.

So, I met with a new neurologist yesterday. What do I know so far? More than before but less than I'd like. Let's see, he basically disagreed with the other doc citing some of my concerns, which made me feel like I was right in questioning the first diagnoses. Yes, that's plural, because there were initially three. I have a brain MRI and an EEG set up for next week. That should tell us more. In the mean time he truly feels this is a central nervous system (CNS) disorder. Eh, not so great. But we're working on it and I feel like he's listening and communicating.

I'm beginning to hate people on cell phones. Rude, rude, rude mo fos that are going to test my last bit of patience. Do not sit in a public place talking about 'baby daddy' then give me stink eye because I make too much noise or wander too close. In a friggin public place. Bring it on! Bring it on! {Enter image of LiVEwiRe doing weaving, bobbing, dodging, shadowboxing maneuvers.}

Wait... you've come to the right spot, I've just done a bit of redecorating

Not sure what I'm going to do with this but it will be a work in progress. I'll have to find something snazzy to do. Over two years with the old template was enough. So now I build on this. Or I change it; not sure if it messes with my eyes. We'll see. For now, I'm going to bed.

ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz

But without me you're only you

That's a line from one of my favorite songs - anyone know it without using the power of the internet? Been playing it quite a bit lately. Still, cool lyric.

So here's a bit of an update before a newsflash near the end. I still can't breathe nor can I get my chest to stop feeling like it's in the grip of a giant, intermittently crushing fist. Drugs help a bit but I can't take enough to really stop it or I'd fall asleep. Not bad, unless I'm at work. Of course, I'm lashing out at people and making dumb choices and taking even dumber chances. Pushing things, I suppose. I drive past that building daily. I can't talk to anyone about this, they wouldn't get the history. Hell, I don't get the history. Until I fizzle out, I'll feel like a time bomb. But I will say that I have not, as of yet, turned to the destructive behavior I have in the past.

Had a meeting with the big shots (ha) at work (hospital) and the brief version is that most likely I will be unemployed in two months. Which means that I won't have insurance. And this stupid knee of mine that is giving me trouble more and more each day may have to wait for surgery. Or I could rush and get it done. But they might fire me if I push it. Fantastic. That doesn't even take into account the neurological things going on.

Then there's the job with the school. They are so disorganized that it's not funny. I'm doing the best I can do with few resources. They have no idea of what is going on with me anywhere so they just expect me to smile and do my job. Reasonable. I just feel like I don't have what I need to do my job and I find myself dreaming about it. Remember those dreams about being in school and not having ever done one bit of homework and it's test day? Yeah, I'm living that, but this time I'm the teacher!!!

My mother is still looking for work and is now talking about moving out of the area/state to look for work. She's very depressed and I feel terrible. Part of me is a bit cranky that I moved back here for my family and she might be going, which would also change my role again in caring for my gram (who wants me closer anyway), but she's just trying to do what's best for her. Can't fault her. It's hard to not know how to help by making a job appear, yet I want to.

In a nutshell, my family is pretty screwy (some of which I have to avoid), one job is stressing me, one is trying to croak drastically, I'm doing some post traumatic stress thing and drugging the symptoms away, I need surgery, otherwise my health is declining and of course, I'm missing Pittsburgh. It's just been on my mind alot. Man, this almost sounds like what they warn you about when you don't forward those dumb chain emails, doesn't it?

But. There is a small glimmer of hope. I think I want to go back to school. I mean, I know I do, but there's alot that has to be worked out. I used to want to be a psychologist but anymore, I think I'm just too fucked in the head to do that. Either way, I'm thinking about school. And the grand part is, I can attend anywhere. Time to reinvent LiVEwiRe.

Annnd, I saw these. Oh happy friggin day!

I want them. Ok, if not those exactly, then something similar. I'd say it fits my mood quite nicely. And if it ever stops snowing, I just might buy them. Come to mama my little juicies...

I've got a day and a half off. What to do, what to do. Basically, I'll see y'all Monday. Maybe with some new shoes.

So, you figure out that lyric yet? ;)

I don't think I can possibly live enough days to encompass the amount of therapy I need

Wow. Where to begin. I know, here would be good. If you're going to read this post I will suggest going back to that one first. It's lengthy so you can just skim over it but it will give you a foundation.

Ok, done? Alrighty then. So last night I went out with a bunch of friends and people I didn't know for the celebration of my friend's 32nd birthday. Had a limo and hotel rooms and all those responsible sorts of things. So, why am I not just gushing about the night? Well, I'm still hung over (yep, now I remember why I don't drink that much anymore) and most of the night was really quite fun. But.

Here's where I get honest, confused, bitter, you name it. The post I referred to above will give you sufficient background.

My cousin's husband spent more time with his hand on my ass than on his drink. I thought we established that was a no-go sort of thing and it should have ended there. So when I left the hotel (to get a cab home) he followed me at about a five second delay; he was going outside to smoke. Around the corner from the room he felt compelled to pin me to the wall, groping his hands in places they never should have been in and trying to kiss me. With me pushing him away it was more like a head-butt than a kiss thankfully. Let's just say it got ugly and there was a struggle. I'm quite sure he was prepared to do me right there up against the wall but my plan was pretty much opposite. And I won.

Now. None of you know me. But I think you know that in most cases I'm pretty strong willed and won't go quietly. But if you reread that other post, you may see where this circumstance differs. I interacted no differently with him last night than I did with anyone else. Slutty behavior can't be blamed. I wore jeans and a tee shirt; nothing low rise, nothing cropped. Which, even if I was looking and acting slutty does not make it right for someone to fucking ambush me, pin me to the wall, get their hands tangled in my lace... especially, ESPECIALLY with his wife (my cousin) behind the door down the hall. I told him this was going to get him in trouble and he didn't care. When I threatened to knee him in the balls and kick his knee (just had surgery) he backed off. Bodily harm works for me. I'll tell you here and now, I can work with bodily harm. I'm the reason they have gun laws.

So I feel awkward and in this whole thing (I talked to my friend Erica about it - but she doesn't really know where I'm coming from because she doesn't know the history that you all do from that post) because I don't want my cousin to know. Ever. Do I want her to know that she's married to a beast? Yeah. Do I want to be the one to tell her? No. And of course I'll feel like I'm on trial when I didn't ask for that. I'll be letting her down no matter what. I don't want to be the one to do that. See the tough situation? For me, yeah, this is like opening old wounds. Big time. But if I take enough pills tonight the pain in my chest will stop and I'll be able to breathe again. There must be some vibe that I'm sending out that triggers a predatory response in guys like this. Only they can hear it - like a dog whistle of sorts. This has to stop. Maybe the pain in my chest is my heart actually breaking. For the pain that my cousin would feel if she found out, for how I feel about myself right now, and for what I can never have because a select few have taken my ability to trust. To let my guard down for fear that this will happen.

No, not all men suck. Just apparently the ones that want anything to do with me. There is something that frightens me, though; one of those double edged swords I suppose. And that is that one day it will stop. Because that might mean that I did find a loophole in a gun law or claimed to have not seen him when putting my car in reverse. Or it might mean that I summon too many pretty colored pills to make that pain in my chest stop.

Right now I just want to run. Maybe someday I will.

I'm a fan of sans serif typefaces so why in the hell am I using this font?!

But that doesn't make sense for a title because the title IS in a sans serif font... this is the reason I suck at decision-making. I notice too much but typically about the unimportant aspects. Ooh. I shouldn't refer to the text as 'unimportant'. I could give it a complex. Wait, what's that? Oh, just my neuroses showing; carry on.

But I've got to tell you. I really am having a problem with another, equally pointless issue. I heard this song and didn't really like it that much until I heard the 'screamy' part at about 2:45. Not alot of screamy, just enough, you know? I'm thinking this guy has a pretty cool voice but he's teamed up with this semi-throaty, slithery sounding chick. How does that work? So I go to a site of theirs, find a video (for the first song) and there you go... a couple of guys and this brunette with a guitar. So I'm thinking it's feasible that this voice is coming out of her. And the song starts. And this manly-man (with facial hair, no less) pipes up with this, this... ugh. This sound. Now. The sound in and of itself is good I suppose. But even watching him I just can't understand that voice coming out of him. Well, the screamy part yes, the tendrilly sounding stuff, not so much. Why does this bug me? Who knows, it just does.

Life is still up in the air. I'm so very restless. And, just to make things fun, my appointment with the orthopedic doc revealed something more sinister than tendonitis that doesn't want to heal. It would seem that my knee has two places where the cartilage is just gone through the full thickness down to the bone. He spoke of surgery, possible cartilage transplants (ew) and the eventual possibility of a knee replacement. Well, I can safely say I didn't see that one coming.

And I cut my hair. Unplanned. Longer in front and shortish in back. If I weren't so pale I'd take it platinum, too. The red suits me better.

Back the *bleep* off

Because I keep in touch with the woman who lived in the apartment above me in Pittsburgh (yes, remember the one I called the police on her first day in town?) I have found out that my old apartment has been rented. I feel replaced, dispensible, forgotten. Like not only has the chapter ended, but the book has been closed, doused in gasoline and tossed in the fire. Interesting. I'm missing Pittsburgh terribly and wondering what in the hell is wrong with my brain.

Positive or negative, I still have my job at the hospital. But not for long. I've decided to look at other options. Given the fact that I narrowly avoided chemical restraints and the cozy intimacy of the back of a squad car last night in retaliation to the behavior of a particular pharmacist, I think it may be time for me to consider other options. It's easier to defend a short work history than it is to explain assault charged incurred on the job. Or so I assume.

Haven't smoked a cigarette in five months but I've been tempted this past week like you wouldn't believe. I'm learning something. I knew my smoking was habit-based and triggered by stress. The more severe the stress, the more I smoked. It wasn't an 'enjoyment' thing. Lately, I've learned something HUGE. Because I have wanted to smoke so badly recently, I realize that it was also a punishment issue. Stress = smoking. Fine. But it was also then that I smoked more (often until I was sick) as a means to punish myself for apparently making the wrong choice or putting myself in that kind of situation. Guess that takes the self mutilation theory to another level. Also makes a statement about where I am mentally now if after not smoking for five months I'm struggling like all hell to not start.

Oh. And I have PMS.

So for anyone that wants to start even the slightest bit of shit with me, may I suggest you simply back the fuck off. I'm not proud of the way I react sometimes but I do know that it happens*. Just let me sit and do what needs to be done for the time being. Go ponder Britney's new salon style. Buy Ms. Ritchie some food. Watch Robin Hood on BBC. Go to a casino, that's a fun one.

But don't poke a stick through my cage. I bite.

*After all is said and done, I'm not in a bad mood. I'm just really, really edgy. In a way, I'm gaining clarity all over the damned place and that's what is a little overwhelming. Clarity, timing, and a dark sense of humor; all part of a nutritious breakfast.

Do not adjust your set....

You won't believe these words are coming from me, which is why I feel compelled to put it in writing.

Yesterday, I had a good day. I didn't work anywhere. Limited phone calls and dealings with doctors. No fitting 5 hours of lecture into less than 2 hours. None of it.

My mother, grandmother and I went to opening week festivities for a fairly local casino. They are way more into it than I am, but that's ok. It was like a mini vacation. I lost $150 but I'm ok with that. Because I got to step away from the things running tracks in my head. And we ate, and we laughed at people, and we threatened machines and we loved it when my cousin stopped by! Not all of the time was spent happy - face it folks, three generations of women? Eesh. But it was good. And I'm pleased. And I'd do it again.

Can you say... 'seething'?

On Friday it will be four weeks since I requested 'the letter'. It still isn't done. After a brief sorta scary session on the phone with them (think Jack Nicholson in The Shining...me as the lead) I discussed filing a formal complaint. He works for my company but loyalty/solidarity means nothing in this case. I sent my boss an email telling him I'm no further and that if he 'had anything else to tell me, now's the time'. Otherwise I'd get a new doc. Good chance this is where they tell me I either go back to full time (uh, can't... teaching here!), produce a letter (aren't they listening?!?!), or lose my job.

That's about the time they can fuck off.

Let me clear my throat (I hope you don't mind)

So the funny thing, the funny thing is this. I'm trying to give a shit and I pretty much don't. Why is this funny? Not sure...

Here's my silly little life in a nutshell. The one I moved back here for. I'm rambling...

The job at the hospital is rocky at best because I need info from my doc to give to them to back up my schedule change. He's not cooperative (very slow), although he said he had no problem providing this info. Now the one manager has offered to call him. She's about as sensitive as Hitler and understands keeping things quiet about as well as your average tabloid reporter. I will not allow her to call. I need to get on the docs ass before they get on my ass or I could be out a job. Great. The job at the school is almost totally without direction. Not surprising. It is alot of work, though. And the other location looks grim - basically people from the projects that pretty much try to beat the hell out of one another when they can. Yes, adults. Yes, this came from an instructor that worked there. The doc has me on meds that I'm not sure I need to be on because he's fixated on a diagnosis for something I'm rather sure I don't have! I have none of the main sysmtoms but one (ONE!) partial ancillary symptom and that's what he diagnoses from. It's like complaining you're cold and being diagnosed as 'dead'. So I take these meds that have major side effects and cost about $400 per month until we see that they don't work and change them or stick with it. If they work, I'll stay with this doc, otherwise, he's history. Maybe just like my job at the hospital. But if I have no insurance, I'll have no doc. I have no idea what is going on anywhere and in between all this my Gram 'wishes I lived closer' (huge hint coming from her - I have to decipher), my mom is still looking for a job (after 2 years) and becoming more depressed, and I'm going in so many directions it's crazy. Some nights I can't sleep at all (no surprise) and I'm getting headaches that are really scary, and my heart is fluttering around in between the tight feeling in my chest (stress response teamed with mild heart condition; not scary but a bit unnerving and uncomfortable). Simple, my body is showing signs of stress. My mind is, too, but that kind of goes with it. I mean, here I am, I've just moved back here and everything went a bit crazy with these jobs from the start. It's gotten worse in different ways. I could lose a job, which would mean more than half of my income and my health insurance.

And for as much as I can break it apart and analyze what is going wrong and what goes where, the odd part is that I don't really care much. I mean, tomorrow they could call me and tell me that I don't have a job. This is a real possibility. The only thought I have is 'how soon do I have to look for another job'. Why don't I care? I mean I do, but for the wrong reasons. I'll be totally honest with you. I care because I need my insurance and because I want things to end on my terms, not theirs. That's about it. I don't care for the reasons that I probably should. And I don't care about that, either.

So here I sit thinking that I moved back here and things sort of fell apart. Ok. Part of me thought that when I moved to Pittsburgh, too. Maybe my margin of error needs to be wider. Maybe things need to fucking work out every now and then without being such a struggle. Sometimes I think I'm an angry black man in an angry white girl's body. Or so I've been told. Isn't it all the same? Either way, I may be ill at ease (hmm, who says that anymore) with this but damn, I just don't/can't care a whole lot.

Truly, it's funny. Just not sure if it's funny 'haha' or funny 'peculiar'.

** Update: I requested the letter from my doc on February 2nd via email. He called me on the 7th saying he'd send it. Today, his office told me it looks like no one sent it. Great. This is just getting worse as time goes on, isn't it? I don't know if I can stall my employer for another week.

Is it possible for your brain to just step to the side?

I mean really? There are times in your life that you see things going in a direction you aren't sure of. For me, I think I'd like to just move to the side and observe for a while so I can take it all in before comitting myself to anything. Doesn't work that way.

There are things that I'm learning about myself lately that are hitting hard. Like the fact that I'm apparently of such caustic, volatile and questionable temperament that I am not able to play well with others. This leaves me in my own category. Meh. It only bothers me sometimes. Now is one of those times. Maybe because I don't believe I'm that sort of person all the time. But that's a conversation for the voices in my head, not my blog.

So here's what I see. I see a person (moi) who is not so happy. Everything I had to go through to get here and I'm not happy. I'm not trying to be unhappy, but it's just a weird limbo. I'm getting the feeling like I want to run. Preferrably somewhere sunnier than here.

Be careful, I might end up at your door one day. I think getting away and total immersion in something else would be fabulous. For those of weak constitution, this may be a good time to move and not leave a forwarding address.

Alright, time for more coffee. I'm feeling better already... the sun is coming out. I'm telling you - if you live somewhere sunny, watch it. I may be on my way!

Technological rape

I just hopped on to say something quickly when Blogger forced me to change to the new version. There wasn't even an option of staying with the old one. I didn't want to change it because I just don't care a whole piss of alot what tags go with my rambling posts. They involve alot of bitching. There Blogger, is that what you wanted me to say? That all I do is bitch anymore? Yeah, well thanks. I appreciate your subtle technique of backing me into a corner and forcing me to submit against my will, all the while making this 'new' version sound like an actual choice. Crafty bastards.

Anyway, comments to the last post are on hold momentarily but I'll definitely get to them. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a few days, just not right now. It's been an exhausting week for many reasons. I just need to go to bed and pretend to sleep more. Often, struggling to stay awake is worth it just to spend some time living in the more ideal world that zips through the brain sometimes, isn't it? Right now I'm too tired to even do that.

And I think I saw a bizarre version of what I would term synchronized snowplowing this evening with at least 20 large city/county trucks, yellow flashing lights illuminating the spectacle. Either lack of sleep is getting to me or it's the cold. Eh, or maybe both. In any event, it was disturbing. Not entirely unlike a Dean Koontz book.

Have I mentioned I'm losing interest in displaying tact? And cold weather? And for some reason I keep thinking of a dumb line from a movie (Dirty Dancing) which I think I watched a zillion years ago... anyway, the line goes something like, "No one puts Baby in a corner." If it comes to being in a corner or not being a part of 'things', I think you know which path I'd choose. Tough choices have to be made when you aren't at peace with any of the options. I know that is vague and no one knows what I'm talking about, maybe not even me, ha, but I can't be more specific right now. I don't like admitting when personal issues take a dive. No big deal. I'm just having to come to terms with the fact that the words a person can string together to sound believable does not necessarily make them so. Especially when all the little things fall through the cracks. Plink. Plink. Plink.

Other than exhaustion, confusion, and typing cryptic posts, things aren't bad. I'm still deciphering the code, but things are at least startlingly mediocre, even if saturated with things that peg me all over the board. How it all fits I'll never know, but it does. I need sunlight. And damn the technological rape.

Could be I'm losing it, in a fairly nonchalant, non-committal sort of way. Meh.

Can your eyeballs actually freeze?

See, I was wondering that because, well, I swear they started to. It's been ferociously cold here and as if cold wouldn't be enough, it has teamed up with gusty winds. Oh joy. So as I was standing outside looking to see if the shuttle bus was coming to take me from my parking garage into work, I seemed to have left my eyes open a bit too long and swear I felt a slight pop and weird drag when I blinked. Can your eyelids freeze in place on your eyeballs? Wow, that would suck.

Anyway, it's day five of twelve in the working world. Next week I'll work a closing shift, then get about three hours sleep, then go to the other place for an early shift. That pattern happens three times. Blech. Week one with orientation for the school is done. Monday I actually meet my first group of students. It's exciting but it's a rough start. I should be used to that by now - that's how it's been since this even became a possibility. So I'm tired but excited. Well, as excited as I permit my cynical self to be. You know - it's never simple with me. ;)

I'm hoping to get out and check out blogs over the next few days before the hard schedule hits. I've been crazy here and just haven't been able to drop by. I'm so interested to see what's going on out there! And maybe I can read your tales of freezing eyeballs...

Oh, and by the way...

Thank you for two wonderful blogging years and an inexplicable 30,000 hits. You guys must be even crazier than I thought! =)

xoxo

May I file a grievance or eight?

Well, whether or not I do depends directly on something pertinent, which I can't seem to recall right now. So, that being said, lets move on, shall we?

I'm sick of snow. One week, and I hate it. But not as much as I hate the fact that a guy from my recent past not so long ago admitted to feelings for me, began leaving me lots of nice voice mail messages, then (you know what is coming) has started dating someone else. But wants to remain in close contact, which is cool (really) because we are friends. It's just that his timing sucks and that is something for me to hate. Just like hating when friends completely and utterly blow you off after making a big, happy deal when you do talk to them after a short absence, which is not to say the 'absence' is my call. And that pattern will repeat, won't it? It's been and I don't really feel good about it. I think I give up and I really do hate that. But not as much as I hate the fact that the neurologist found one 'ailment' for sure and there are two others currently battling it out to be ailment number two. I just like the word ailment. The needle stabs weren't too bad but the electric shocks really sucked! So yeah, there is some pesky set of neuro issues going on. They may be lifelong, progressive disorders. But I can't get a straight answer. I can't even get definitive diagnoses (I'm not faulting him) but I sure as hell can get a prescription for $400 per month. Need to see how much insurance covers. You know, I never wanted anything wrong with me, I just wanted someone to make the symptoms stop.

In one week I start instructing at the school. And I go part time at the hospital. Hopefully. They know it and I've tried to talk to them about it but they were in some sort of fantasy world where they thought things would be different. Like I would change my mind. They have yet to change the schedule. I really hope they don't tell me I can't work the days I've opted for; when I tried to tell them they were in agreement but I think that was partially because they weren't listening because they thought I'd stay full time. Son of a bitch. I can only hope for the best but right now, I don't believe anyone. Show me what's behind your words so they aren't so empty, then I'll start to be ok. I hate when someone talks with you in some placating fashion, which I'm hoping isn't the case here. It's like those negotiators trained to talk down the people that take hostages. Except that originally I wasn't angry, but I sure as hell will be if they go back on what they agreed to. Pretty much hate that too.

And the fact that things have been so out of sorts lately (not that bad mind you, just not meshing) that I still find it difficult to blog with any regularity or visit. I still try and it should improve - I'm hopeful. And yes, I pretty much hate being hopeful, too!

"You know I don't smoke pot. It dulls my hatred."
(Sara Gilbert as Darlene Connor on Roseanne)
~

Select your own title.

The filter retrieval systems are failing... yet I think it's kind of funny.

Today I got word that there was a jumper at work Sunday morning. It would seem that hurling oneself off of an insanely overfilled concrete parking garage toward even more concrete at a high rate of speed is the way to go. Pretty much literally.

I was in a no bullshit mood today so when a co worker asked me if I heard about it, I asked simply if it was an employee or a visitor. He didn't know as the damage was so severe they haven't identified the person yet. My sole response went something like this, 'Hmm, does that mean there's another parking space available?'

Look, that may sound a bit cold, I'll give you that. But at least I'm not running aroung asking everyone if they've heard of this event just to spread the sensationalism of it. It's sheer morbid curiosity. They just try to turn it into sounding concerned. Most of them couldn't give a shit. Oddly, this is normal behavior when it comes to humans.

Me? Give me the practical points. Is there another space available or not? I have the ability to 'care myself' right into the ground with someone if I'm in that mood. Yeah, I'm not so much in the mood for that right now. Kind of funny; I'm now the sick, demented, twisted girl.

Hmm. On the bright side, this may really pave the way for me to let it all hang out, so to speak.

It sounds like Xanadu, but where's Gene Kelly?

Dark chocolate and peanut butter do not go well together. Just thought I'd let you know.

So I'm thinking I might be slightly manicky. Why do I think that? Well, it's not a mystery. After being accurately diagnosed as bipolar for, oh, what has it been? Five years now? Anyway, you get to pick up on these things. I've also learned that certain types of stress bring it on. There's been this underlying current that has:

• Made me obsess. Anything, everything, then switch to something else, then switch back.
• I can't let anything go. Even figuring out the first line of lyrics to a song.
• Short phrases, song lyrics or concepts are stuck in a brain loop. I don't mind.
• My filter has some major holes in it. I might be hauled in for sexual harassment. {giggle}
• Obsessive thinking. Obsessive thinking. Obsessive thinking. Obsessive thinking.
• My car goes no less than 20 miles an hour over the posted speed limit.
• I'm trying to do 17 things at once and for a moment, thinking it'll work.
• Pushing 300 pound delivery carts fairly easily while dancing to the above song.
• All of this seems perfectly normal!

Recently I've learned that my iron count is next to nothing (no biggie). I should have no energy to be buzzing around mentally like this yet I am. Enter hypomania. That's ok for now, I think it's getting me through a bit of a rough spot. Comes in handy now and again so I have no complaints.

I'm just noticing that life is funny and for this moment, I'm riding that wave. No idea where I'm going, but for this moment, that's cool. Things may change in 25 minutes, so I'm taking advantage of this now. =)

I'm out at Gram's this weekend. Detox of sorts. Have a lovely weekend!

(Great, now that I've named this post, I feel a Xanadu obsession coming on! Ahhhh!) In Xanadu your neon lights will shine, for you Xanadu.... a place ... where nobody dared... Oh shit. Maybe if I didn't like ELO so much? Yes? No. Yeah, you're right, it'd be stuck there anyway. On repeat. For days. Damn. Oh well, it's kind of funny when you think about it. You have to believe we are magic.... I have no hope left, I'm rambling....and I like it...lol.