Tell me where to go - OTHER than hell...

My time here is up. I can't explain why or how I know this, but it is all just being forced now. Truthfully, it's been up; I'm just either stubborn, dense, or stupidly hopeful. Perhaps my signature trinity. So I think of options I'd consider - back to Pittsburgh, Canada, west coast (NW) or certain parts of the south - if they could handle a heathen and I could handle bible thumpers. And I have to be near water. Even rivers. Pittsburgh has three, so that helps. It counts. Anyway. I need to go because I'll wake up one day and it will all have passed me by. My life has been a weird one and by no means do I expect that to change. I just need to spread my wings and I'm so closed in that I have no room to do that anywhere. It's as if they've been clipped. Where do I go? How do I do it? Most likely with the solid sense of 'I have no clue what I'm doing but let's just get on with it, shall we?' that I always fall back on. I am thisclose to just taking off. I just don't know if I should look for a place that I have ties to or one that I don't. This was a dilemma before. I think I failed that test. Damn life and that 'full circle' thing because here I am again. *sigh* Help? Er, please?

High as a kite folks

Not on drugs, but on my lovely little neurochemicals. I've been winding up to a mania situation for almost two weeks. Gee, really? I've posted a zillion times here (comparatively speaking), posted once on the other and kicked my one year neglected MySpace account into gear with a lovely playlist and something like three blog posts there. I can type nowhere as fast as I can talk, which is probably a really good thing. Ideas are flying and flowing and they are all colliding. I'm pissy and fussy and ever so agreeable. Food is optional as is sleep. I've got to force myself to leave now and go to bed. I'm sure I'll find 16 things to do along the way. *sigh*

I should not complain. I have been lucky enough to stay out of mania's way for a while now. The only thing is that mania is the one side of this that is almost impossible to hide. I'm trying so hard to reel it in but hey - there is NO explaining that to neurotransmitters. They do what they want and will stop when they are good and ready. All I can do is go along for the ride... wheeeeee. Ahem.

So my new therapist says I'm intelligent. Apparently this can be a not-so-good thing.

I suppose I'm going to have to dumb myself down in order to cope with life then. I mean really? Is that how it works? Cuz I can't do that. Well, I can drug myself to the max (Go Benadryl!) but I'm not a fan of drooling, either. Suppose this means that I've got to find a lifestyle/location change and work on that. Just a question on the details - how, when, where. For shit's sake, I sure as fuck don't want to find like-minded people - I'm NUTS! Like I need more of that in my life!

So anyway, I'll leave you with this quickie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQT7G7yeYr8

Obsessive you say? I call it focused.

Ok, truly it IS obsessive but I'll never admit it. I am 39 years old and get major fits of obsession. Sure, alot of it is the bipolar and OCD tendencies, but I have always been the kind of person that will bore a hole through something with my gaze until I feel satisfied with my accomplishment.

There is nothing bad here, except for the fact that it's weird and obsessivey. I really am like a heat seeking missile, and no, that isn't a metaphor. There are at least 4 things I'm jumping on now and damn can I ever exhaust myself. Oddly, I feel productive at these times, even though most of the obsession isn't warranted or even functional, really.

I don't know why I brought it up but I think it's kind of funny to see someone other than a 13 year old in this mode. Maybe it'll end soon. Until then, I'm just along for the ride folks, until I tire myself out. =)

Some days just blow filthy ass. That is the only way to say it.

Granted. I've been a bit off with a few doses of meds, nothing major. Granted. PMS time is here. Even with these things in mind, I've been handling it. Even been in a slightly decent mood lately! Lots going on around me but sort of feeling separate, which is how it should be. The things in my life have been somehow held at bay, which is fine. But today the switched flipped. And do you know what? Because I let myself hope. And that hope rapidly turned into disappointment. Begin the downward spiral.

All of the other things that have been going on in my head became magnified when the disappointment hit. Knowing I do not handle disappointment well, I so very rarely let myself feel hope or excitement or possibility. I temper it as a safety mechanism. See, when that bottom drops out, it all comes back and I get overwhelmed. When I get overwhelmed I reach for things I shouldn't. Which is why I'm forcing myself to type; keeps my hands busy.

I doubt I will ever truly 'get over' this. Which I suppose I can live with. Thing is, I need to almost fully stop hoping lest I get disappointed and start eyeing up cutlery. So yeah, most would say that is no way to live - without hopes, dreams, looking forward to things, letting yourself feel excitement - but neither is trying to stall yourself long enough until the feeling passes. I don't want to live in a world where I can only have plastic fast food utensils lest I use the real sort for purposes unintended.

What goes so wrong in anyone's head that hurting yourself actually makes the emotional pain go away? I know most of the answers, but I will also most likely struggle with this the rest of my life. I talk about it occasionally now because it has been such a part of me for so long that I simply can't deny it. You may hit a high level of disappointment and cry. If I get overwhelmed with it I end up cleaning up a mess and coming up with creative stories as to how I 'hurt' myself. Through the years I've already come up with invisible places. That way no one sees or knows. That is how I hid it until I was 31. At that time, which was 8 years ago, I learned that it was actually a 'thing' that had a name and I wasn't the only person that did it. I spoke to my doc and my mom. It was never fully a secret since then. I has been a while - maybe close to 2 years since anything happened. It takes strength to not fall into old patterns especially when the feelings that cause the behavior are still rather active.

None of it is really important anyway. I just am upset because I let myself hope. And of course, it came crashing down and brought other things, that had been minding their own business, along with it. I don't know how I can still be so foolish to allow myself to be in that position. Hoping is too dangerous for me. One day maybe someone can answer my question: How is it possible for one person to be filled with so much pain that they have to cut themselves to release it and let it flow out? It doesn't seem right.

A nice moment in time...

Although I often live in my head quite a bit, I am not delusional nor do I think the world is in love with me. Far, far from it.. I just make them talk to me. What I do think is that tonight I had a little bit of luck (right place, right time and the sense to make use of it) to engage in a very brief conversation with a lovely boy we'll call... well, we'll call him Stu because that's his name. =)




Stu is in a band (more on that later) and I will tell you why I'm a bit taken with him. He is intensely musically inclined (multiple instruments), together but lively, and has such an open, genuine face. It's not about looks (although personally, I do think he's good looking, truth be told), it's more about approachability and understanding and welcoming - it some sort of vibe he gives off. He would do that even if he didn't have that mildly unruly mop.




For three shows, I've obviously had no reason to speak with him - why would I? Tonight, after dinner but before the show, I saw him casually leaning against the wall on his phone and for a moment he left, then he was back for a nice 20 second viewing or so. No, I was not staring but I was mumbling, 'there's Stu - there's Stu... no, like right there'.




We had a special table set up for us and as security was taking us back telling us it was a good seat and Stu was coming toward us. I figured, oh come on LiVEwiRe, surely you can entice him into saying something without seeming to have tried. I asked the guard just loud enough (with that joking, yet wide eyed innocence type thing girls do) if he was planning on seating us up on the stage. At which point Stu paused and said, 'well, why not'? I told him I planned on singing along and he said 'even better' - I laughed and told him my fear was of clearing the house... ;) He looked thoughtful and said, 'in that case, maybe you better not' - gave me a giant smile and waved. I never let on that I knew who he was. That vibe is there up close too, not just on stage. Nice little moment in time.

Photos from Matthewgood.org/Flicker

Saying my life is peculiar is like saying Mt. Etna is occasionally tempermental

Switching gears here, I have a funny little story. Keep in mind that there is nothing sinister about this story nor was there any malicious intent. Sit for a moment and just take in the vapors of what I call my life...

Brief history - I've seen like, a gazillion doctors in my life. Perhaps a few less but you get the idea. I've got miles under my belt with docs and have pretty much seen it all. Until now...

So a handful of years back we got a new doc and he was just great. I mean, from a general viewpoint; I never had to see him personally. He was always very friendly and smiling a zillion watt smile. There was a part of me that always liked just hearing him speak because when I was young, my mother had a coworker that was from the same country that this doc is from. Her coworker was so nice and always had time to chat with me... a child! Needless to say that anytime I hear anyone with that accent it makes me all warm and fuzzy feeling. (See, I am too capable of it!)

Anyway, from the time I saw this doc I thought he was very handsome. Add in the smile and the accent and you can imagine that I always enjoyed running into him in the halls from time to time. Some time last year we learned that our birthdays are something like 10 days apart and we always joke about making the other wear a birthday hat, etc. He's just personable and when in the spotlight (out and about in the hospital) I'm very outgoing. Easy to see how we chat and joke, right? Right. It is fair to say that even though he is not available I've always had a harmless crush on him.

So as life would have it, I had to see this doc a few days back. When he walked in and asked just what I thought I was doing in his office, I said simply that I hadn't seen him nearly enough in the hosital these days so I made an appointment. We both got a good laugh then got on with the appointment, obviously.

The appointment concludes and he stands up and puts his arms out for a larger than life hug and I obliged - he's just that way; no harm. About a three seconds into it I realized that this had turned into a giant full-body hug, pressed firmly to the knees and uh, shouldn't it be ending by now? So I kind of lean my upper body back and just looked at him (hoping to hide my puzzlement as to why he still had his arms around me) and he leaned down and kissed me. Kissed me people! Not a quick brush, it was surely intended as much as he was still holding on to me, yet he was not trying to lick my molars. Which is good. That would have creeped me out.

So there you have it. The doc that I've always had a harmless, unspoken crush on just shocked the hell out of me right there in his office. And I have alot of hell in me, so that should speak volumes! I just keep telling myself that he's a whooole lot friendlier than I thought and I've got to keep my rapidly disintegrating senses about me. My worst fear is finding myself in an elevator with him. Not so much for what he would do, but for what I'd have to keep myself from doing.

I just hope my insurance company does not charge extra for that portion of the visit...

And so my heart breaks

Because of Isabella I will always know that somewhere along the way, I made a right choice. A little over 14 years ago I came to meet an adult cat that had been abused and was terrified of humans beyond belief. Knowing in my heart that she was a special needs cat due to the severity of her trauma, I took her and accepted the long bumpy road that now stretched before me. There was a chance she would hide all of her days, bite me out of fear from past abuse or hate me simply because I'm human - like the ones that hurt her.



As time went on it would come to be that I taught her trust and she taught me patience. As her health began to decline last year, I did everything I could and she responded well. The past six months were markedly difficult with me administering medications and IV fluids. She still found joy in daily life and so I cared for her, even as she began losing so much weight that I called her 'my little supermodel'.


Last week I came home from work and knew she had taken a turn for the worst. All night and through the morning I stayed awake and by her side. Showing signs of certain distress, yet not necessarily pain, I knew that I'd have to do the only thing for her that I could. She trusted me. I could not fail her.



Her brave battle ended one week ago. My sweet little girl has moved on. Life is no longer a struggle for her; for me, that is an entirely different story. Logic tells me that I did what was right for her, and I believe that. Somehow I thought that understanding that would make it easier on me. I was very, very wrong. I am not doing well without her.



My heart aches from the loss. I don't know how to live without her yet. For all the time there is, there is never enough, is there? Goodbye, Isabella. All the love in the world.
~

I'm only like, six weeks late.

I really had every intention of posting sooner. Truth is life is a bit of a shitfest and I couldn't post without bitching. So I didn't post. For the moment, I just need to talk about one thing.

My mother forwarded a message to me. A friend from my childhood found her on Facebook and was hoping she was my mom and asked if she could get a message to me. Her message? She has been trying to find me for years (truth) and that we were best friends in grade school (partial truth). She says that I was the one that got her through a very difficult childhood. Oddly, my friendship with her aided in me becoming a seriously defective person. Years of therapy, and I don't joke.

Funny how she is grateful for me being there and I often regret the fact that I was ever in her life. Two sides, same coin. It wasn't her fault but I've spent more than 20 years avoiding her because of what happened, trying to forget things. I will contact her. I have to. I'm seriously afraid. She mentions her difficult childhood so I know it will be addressed. I've spent a lifetime pretending the events co-mingled with our friendship could just be buried. But now they are back, almost 30 years later.

These events, along with others, made me want to run and disappear. My mind does stall out and leave when I find myself facing similar moments. I've run most of my life but its back. None of it ever fucking went away but I was able to keep it at bay. And now it is back. And the very idea scares the hell out of me. I will not be able to contain it. I will spend my time talking with her and consoling her when the time comes. She deserves that more than you can imagine. And then I will take it out on those closest to me. And I will become more hateful and bitter than I thought I could be.

And then I will take it out on myself. It saddens me that she gives me so much credit. A real friend would have killed him.

For the moment I have only one thing to say.

I am waiting for test results. I don't know if I ever mentioned anything about it. Back in May I learned that I'd need to follow up with a retest to see if there have been any changes. For reasons I'll disclose at a later time (read: a few days) truth be told, I'm kind of scared. This kind of 'scared' made me realized that not much in life scares me anymore and I'm out of practice.

Some sort of results will be given to me Monday although I have no idea what to expect. It would be great if this would be one of those times where I have some weird malady and get every test in the world only to find out it's all normal.

Keep you posted.

There are so many things I could say right now

But I'm going to wait just a bit longer. Not that it'll be much different, I've just had too long a day as it is. And miles to go before I sleep... isn't that how it ends?

My neurons, starring Marilyn Manson

She was the color of TV
Her mouth curled up just like a metal snake...
(Valentine's Day, Marilyn Manson; Valentine Soundtrack)

Lately I've wondered of any of my teachers, early employers knew me and thought, 'Now there's someone you're gonna wanna watch out for. Something a little funny with that girl.' I usually hide it. Not so much here, but generally. Can't help but wonder who saw through it before I honed those skills. Who knew before I did just what was up in this head of mine. What it was going to be capable of. What it fights to pretend its not capable of.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I've sort of taken to the formerly despised act of shopping. It makes me feel normal. Like I find some comfort in it now because its what I think normal people do. I see them shop. They look normal. None of them are hiding in a corner by the dog food trying to superglue their asshole shut. Not one of them stares at the light bulbs fighting back the urge to grab onto a couple and crush them bare handed just to see what it feels like. They seem happy shopping. So I've been doing it for a while now and it isn't so bad. I get lost in it, but of course, I'm fairly frugal. But I've found a way to blend. I remember a headshrinker told me many years ago to 'fake it til you make it', meaning that even when you don't want to smile, if you force yourself to do it enough, it will become second nature and then before you realize it, you'll be smiling intentionally. So I emulate these so-called normal folk. I sure as hell hope they aren't using the same method I am. (Make no mistake, I still detest grocery shopping. It makes me physically ill and eventually violent until I want to smash jars, scream like a child and piss on the frozen corn. Good for the corn at least I'm a girl and can't aim that high.) So for now I will shop. And hope the normality sinks in, a miracle of the mundane.

There is something in my head that needs a little fixing but I don't know how. I gradually went off my meds full-on for about a week. There was no downward spiral. Now that I am reintroducing I am getting an upward spiral. Which is the same thing I would expect a downward spiral to be except it is with drug reintroduction, not the decrease/elimination of. So it isn't positive. I was hoping a short break would level me out but not so much. Perhaps the timing was not right. I'm continuing back to my normal dose.

There are so many self realizations occurring that I really feel I should put it down on paper when I become aware of it because my memory is dodgy at best. Unfortunately I couldn't risk it. They would find a place for me where they put corn pissers with their assholes glued shut. So life just gets a little stranger.

Even though it was alive

some of us are really born to die...

(Valentine's Day, Marilyn Manson; Valentine Soundtrack)

For Absenteeism, press '1'

I don't have a slip, excuse or note to explain mine. Not officially anyway. I will wish you all a happy new year, which I figure doesn't have to have caps due to the fact that it was over a week ago. My blog, my rules.

Hopefully yours have collectively started well. Mine ended shittily and started shittily. Maybe overwhelmed is a better word. Either way it is kind on par for me. As for 'shittily' - again, my blog, my word.

One thing that comes to mind is that I have made an actual effort to make myself more available to a good friend of mine. I had pulled away so far that I thought it was all done and over but it isn't. It takes more effort than I sometimes feel I have but yet I do it. Because I want to, yes, but I think that if I don't it will just pave the way for me to drop out completely.

So here it is entirely too cold. Just before the new year the snow/wind/cold machine went into overdrive. I think it is 12F/~11C out there now sans wind chill. Other than giving the excuse that I may actually be frozen in place, why do I live here and endure this? Granted, there are places that are much worse but this isn't a contest - this sucks enough. And why don't those people move, anyway?

I don't know anything yet I know too much. What I desire to know evades me while I cannot rid myself to the things that haunt me. But to help settle all that chaos, I must proudly announce that I have a new phone. The evil Blackberry is sitting, uh, well, I don't know really where it is now. But I got a Sony Ericsson Equinox. Google if you wish. That switch was a great stress reducer.

The only question I have now is 'do I bullet the entries or run them all together'. I opted for the latter, less daunting. When I haven't posted in a while, I always update you on the goings on here. True to form and in no particular order... well, my cat Bella is actively dying which is terrible to deal with, and leads into the fact that I still have the almost nine month kitten living on my enclosed (but not heated) patio - no takers yet and he can't be in the house harassing Bella so I've made warm houses for him but for shits sake, his water freezes it's so cold! He likes his warm house (truly warm) but has a serious defecit when it comes to socialization - I hate this. I had a bizzare account where I felt pain, tingling and decreased range of motion in my left arm along with a non-trauma related, actively bleeding bruise on my arm the size of a grapefruit. Lasted about two weeks but all tests say 'normal'... um, suuuure. Which oddly led me to the next thing. I just learned that I need joint replacement surgery. Seriously - my knee. I'm 39! I am bone on bone - no cartilage in the medial compartment. Because of other meds I can't really do anything for the pain. My car's wheel just locked up again last night like it did back in March when I ground my tire down to the metal tread. It cleared then froze up again this morning. I don't have time for this shit when they told me it was a 'total fluke' last time. I don't want to look for another car in the winter. My attitude is increasingly unstable and I have done a 180 at work. I do my job and stop. I have been taken advantage of long enough. And that is precisely what it is. Now I am assigned to the single most lazy, foolish, manipulative, chauventistic, and did I mention lazy pharmacist in the region. He plays dumb just to get people to do his work. (Never said he was dumb.) I spend most days trying not to speak lest something utterly foul come out of my mouth. Mom is still not working. My horrible attitude is causing a rift between my grandmother and me. It saddens me but I dont' know what to do. She is in no way guilt-free but I'd say 80% of the changable portion is my fault. I can no easier change what is going on in my head than you can spontaneously change your eye color. Oh, and the Trigeminal Neuralgia came back for several weeks; just tapering off meds now. And I got cute new specs which the eye folks promptly fucked up, then 're-fucked up' until I had them (wrong script/astigmatism) on my orbs for almost six weeks. That hurts the orbs, really. A very, very good friend of mine's daughter is having a baby in two months. I already sense myself distancing myself. Our relationship is changing as I write this because of her daughter's pregnancy. If you could ask her right now she would tell you that she will devote everything to her daughter and the baby. I think some of it is really overboard on her part but who am I to give an example of normality? I know she senses that something is different between us on a beginning level but is kind of confused. When she asks, I will be honest with her. I know I'm losing her to this situation and it is easier on me to start now. I need to get the mindset. Will she still be my friend, yes. But on a lesser level. It is just the way this will go. I know her and I know me. I expect this from her in the same way I expect this from me. It is the way things will go. And today I received a letter asking me to fill out a questionnaire for summons to jury duty. WHAT?! That would most likely send me into an anxiety attack because I am not reliable as far as making decisions of that nature. The meds help, they don't fix. I'll either be yelling kill the son of a bitch or they'll be calling an ambulance because I'm clutching my chest out of panic from the idea of making the wrong decision. Or that I've taken the nearest reasonably sharp object. Honestly, that situation is one that could get me utterly rocked off my block. I don't expect them to understand mental illness, but I have a fairly keen grasp and I won't put myself through an experience that could have dire circumstances, mentally and emotionally. They've given me three days to return the form yet how am I supposed to obtain a letter from my doc that quickly (as they ask you to do if there is a reason you feel you cannot serve) to explain? I've decided I'll fill it out and send it to them and if they want more info, they can contact me. My life, my rules.

I suppose I really don't have an adequate phrase to sum up my level of frustration at this time. My thoughts of just being able to cease being have never left. Perhaps because most things are a struggle and I've become a tired, tired girl. And one who is gaining weight. Stress eater here, and when I control it during the day, I eat in my sleep at night. I'd hoped to take some time and got to a Pens home hockey game with a girl from work but with my car in the shop I just don't know if I can afford the tickets now. I really need the time away - for fun. I just don't think it's happening.

Happily though, I remembered that they make Coconut Creme coffee creamer and although it doesn't make my life as ideal as a sappy commercial, it comes close on some days. =)

That is what I know for now. I'm afraid there isn't anything more exciting but I'll be hopping around to visit later. I hope that each of you are well.

~

Something wicked this way comes. Again.

Or perhaps it is already here. I'm not looking at this as if it were a bad thing, I see it as more of a cleansing. Of course I do worry that there is nothing left to cleanse; that other than the anger, bitterness, and general darkness that mull about inside me, well, there really isn't much left. It has all been pushed out or into hiding.

So I think that I've been trying to separate me from me. Which of course, is not easily done and is typically handled with a mixture of antipsychotic drugs. Not really what I'm going for. Maybe I'm trying to separate me from what has led up to me becoming who I am since I happen to be so fucking miserable of late. That makes sense, doesn't it? It's like I'm trying to start again, but being the person I am, I have to get rid of the things around me that only serve as reminders.

Interestingly, I feel that every item I get rid of must be thrown away. I'm referring to things other than clothing - decorative items, personal items collected over the years. Reminders of vacations long past. They cannot be donated, they must be thrown away. I can't explain why, but I think I'm close on that. I'll know why soon enough.

There is less and less around to show that I even exist. In a way that bothers me, seeing that my imprint here is disappearing. For as apathetic as I've become in one sense, I can't even bother to care. In another sense, I'm on the border of panic and seeing the things most important to me in the trash really doesn't help. It's like I'm punishing myself for not being able to be the person I was given the tools to be.

Is this about failure or beginning anew? How different are they, really? Is there some sort of hint at mutual exclusivity there?

Do other people do this shit?

I have to solve every world crisis, fix every wrong, help those who won't help themselves - all with a smile. And that really pisses me off.

I mean, why should I have 90,003.2 things to handle while my dippy-ass coworker (family member, neighbor) gets to live a life without all that shit? My Life: The Shitfest... catchy book title? If I had more hours in the day, those hours would undoubtedly be filled with somebody wanting something from me or just taking it. Suppose they might be right when they say you'll rest when you die.

Yesterday, I explained to someone that the reason I keep so much in and just pretend it doesn't exist (and in turn end up sick and in need of medical attention) is that I am so fearful of really letting go on someone. Not a stranger - I do that enough, but someone I know. Someone who has spent many days pissing in my frappuccino so that my anger is built up. If I start, I am afraid I wouldn't stop. If I start, I truly believe that without realizing it, I could hurt someone. Or worse. Could I kill someone? Yes, in a fit of rage I most certainly could. In a last desperate attempt to free myself of them and the frustration they dole out. Unfortunately I am prone to fits of rage and compulsive behavior. I could not plan such a thing no matter how I felt about a person. But if circumstances were right, they were pushing and pushing and I'd lost the last gossamer strand of patience I had, then yes. The rage would drape me in a pall made of anger, tears, and too much time spent suffering for their stupidity.

I think I scared her.

As with everything, there is a duality. For as sweet, pleasant and friendly as I often am, no one knows that although there is a genuine spark there, it goes out almost immediately. It used to be there, so I know the role and can go through all the motions unflinchingly. But somewhere inside, I've been scarred and frightened. Smiling through the chaos just to keep my life. Anger and fear have blended into a toxic amalgam to fill in the remaining cracks. I've just come to the conclusion recently that I really have nothing left to give that isn't based on a lie. So I can be nice. And sweet. And I do it because people need others to be that way toward them. Just because I lived through a deluge of disappointment doesn't mean I have to push another person in that direction. Part of me still lives on the echo of it, that good feeling. But it never stays long. What resides in me is not too dissimilar from a Tool video (minus the meat grinder crap). It isn't pretty. It is harsh and dark and truly a place you'd not want to go for any length of time. And so I keep going, protecting the part of me that I really don't want yet nourishing it because I know that harshness is all that keeps me alive.

Sometimes I think I scare myself.

Once upon a time in the land of...

well, truth be told, who gives a shit where it is, right?

There are always tales to be told. For example, I am telling you one now. Some tales purposely evade truth while many are filled with it. Sometimes enough that you don't really want to delve into the meat of it all.

In some lands, life is pretty. On the outside. Smiles are a mask that mock those that were once happier. A sham of agreeability on the outside that doesn't let the inside out.

Behind eyes that have seen and heard too much, it presses. So hard, in fact, that internal corneal abrasions begin to scar once clear vision. Anyone qualifies as deserving prey.

Pretty fucking smug for prey. Oh, that's right; you don't really know you're prey yet, do you? You found me relaxed for a moment, riding on a second of peace. Your introductions were kind and sweet and.. oh, wait, I forgot how you were seeing me.

Your eyes tell me your initial pleasantries only had you in mind. A self-serving shift in gaze reminds me that you don't care who you're speaking to; only what.

After a couple chance meetings, you seek me out. I want to cover what you see. Perhaps you would see me for me? Speak to me because I just might say something you want to hear. Your eyes tell a more lacivious tale.

In a moment of anger I make it crudely clear that I don't need you. Yes, right there in front of everybody: my hands granted access to places yours can only dream of.

The sickest twist of all is that I can see in your eyes that you think I'm doing this for you. No, little boy. I do this to mock you. To show you that I have no need for you. And to remind you of the power I do have over you. Our next encounter will not be nearly as pleasant for you. There has been a shift. You are now my prey.

This. This is a tale of truth.

Built in my nightmares and using my name

You're stroking my cortex and you know I'm insane

The time has come for me to kill this game

Now open wide and say my name

(Monster Magnet - Space Lord)

A Happy Halloweenie indeed! Hmpf

All I wanted to do was make a few comments about my Halloween thus far. And include a pic or so. But for some reason my lovely Blackberry Pearl Flip refuses to cooperate. There are days I want to stomp this phone to beits. Only it will most likely be like the scene from the Scorcerer's Apprentice where the broom comes back in mass numbers. If that happens with this phone you can find me atop a tall building.

Be back for an update tomorrow - hopefully. Or I'll be jailed for cell abuse. Meh.
Til then - Happy Halloween!

I am soooo in the minority

Really, I need to say this. Ok, I've had several cell phone issues over the past, hmm, 3 months or so with the new carrier. The phones all got turned in and replaced. All four of them. Squeaking hinges (couldn't hear), software issues, you name it. Thing is, I LIKED my phone. Thankfully they kept replacing it with the same one, just changing the color if needed. (Only red ones squeaked.)

Anyway. I've replaced too many although not by a fault of my own. They said my replacement would be basically the equivalent of the one I'd had. They lied. Oh, how they lied. And so began my quest for justice. I contacted as many people as possible and each one told me the same thing. They kindly explained why it had to be a different phone and although I liked my original phone style, I do understand. But if they think the phone they sent me is the equivalent of that little number, they are sadly mistaken.

The fuckers sent me a Blackberry Pearl Flip 8220!!! Christ on a bike... I can barely make a simple call on it!!! This phone is a data device. I don't email, load music, or even text, let alone merge Excel Spreadsheets on my friggin' PHONE. That's right... I wanted a PHONE. Gah!!! How can they upgrade me so far, especially against my will. This is not what I bought - not remotely close. I have never used a more complex 'phone'. Everything has hidden menu options, but only sometimes. When my contacts transferred, it fucked it all up. My cousin was listed as Jess & Scott in my old phone. On the Blackberry it changed it to &Scott,Jess1. Now just HOW in the hell does one even get the lobotomized idea to look up a person by searching by an ampersand!!!!!!!

Ahem. So you can see the stress involved. I've had it for about 3 weeks now and am justthisclose to saying I hate it. One tech told me it took him 3 months to learn to use his. I told him I don't want to devote that much of time in my life to learning a phone. It's a phone fer crissakes... I shouldn't have to "learn" much about it... dial, talk, hang up.

The funny part about it is that I'm sure the techs that I've called are sure I'm crank calling them. I mean, who would turn in a ~$160.00 phone and then bitch endlessly about getting a ~$360.00 one in return?! They absolutely cannot fathom that. They keep telling me that I've got such a great phone now. I told them that a replacement is not an all-purpose thing. What if I would be a 90 year old woman? You'd really think it fair to her to force her to use this thing? Really?

I am in a very small minority here. Of that I am certain. My life is complicated enough and I prefer to simplify, not get an ulcer over attempting to use a phone that does not suit my needs 96.5% of the time. They think they are 'wowing' me with such an upgrade because of the multiple difficulties with the other model. I don't blame them for the other phone issues - it's an electronic device, shit happens. Maybe other customers get impressed by their immense upgrade, and I do understand that, from both perspectives. I am just not one of those people. Funny thing is, their tremendous upgrade may be the thing that undoes my contract. I doubt I will renew when the time comes because of this.

See what happens when you try to be nice to me, damn it?! ;)

Too cold, amigos.

I am not dead. I have not been, since my last post, dead. I never even played dead on TV. Of course it is always a viable option yet somehow I offer myself up to the suffering. Yay, me.

Rodents gone, I think. Halloween coming - yay. I am sick, tests galore. My cat is dying; difficult times. We all fight like we want each other dead. My stress response gets worse. After years of practice you'd think it'd get better. The PC was out for a while getting a check up and memory. Wish I could get more memory that easily.

Must go sleep - starting my day with lots of phone calls. IF anyone thinks to check here, thanks! This is going to be a very busy week+ for me but I'll try to be back with at least something that is not total gloom and doom. Ooh, I know, I'll keep you posted on the progress of the petticoat I am making. With no machine. No pattern. No sewing skills. And no clue. Just alot of determination. Which some would call a stubborn streak. Or a waste of time. Or insanely pathetic. Meh, I'm ok with that.

I'll be peeking around very soon! Be well!

Could my eyelids cover what I did?

Twofold. The reason for the title, I mean. Personally I think it's one of the best lines from a Buffalo Tom '98 release called Sodajerk. You know me and my love of semi-obscure 90s music. Anyway - that is on heavy rotation. Oddly with Paramour and SilverSun Pickups. But I digress. I've been looking for that song for years but I refuse to pay for a download lest I end up homeless.

Unfortunately that line is just killing me right now and kicking up the guilt level to new heights. I am one of the few people you will ever hear profess this in your entire life. I guarantee it. The rodents wanted to take over and my no-kill methods were not effective. We had bait traps set today by a professional and I am literally sick. The drug will lead to an internal hemmorhage ending in death. And it will be my doing. Then, if they make it outside (which they should as the drug makes them seek water), anything that might eat them will also most likely die. Christ on a bike... I'm a fucking killer. I don't want to go to bed because if I hear them, I'll know they are on their way to dying. So I sit here downloading songs with headphones on full blast, fighting back tears - which sucks because my typing needs visual aid, dig?

Don't misunderstand - if one ran over my foot I'd scream like a sissy and try to beat it with my keyboard out of shock. Somehow this is all different. Genocide usually is. Yes, yes - I know it was them or me but I just never liked these methods. Barring the fact that these rats (Norwegian browns /blacks in some areas) were responsible for the plague - I feel exceedingly guilty. My chest hurts, I think I'll lose it if I hear one and to be honest, I'd rather plunge a blade in my own flesh as a trade. Perhaps to show remorse.

I'm really not handling this well, am I?

Do you see what I see

So. I just got home. Drove to Pittsburgh Sunday and returned Monday. I did want to stay longer and I suppose I was surprised by how comfortable it felt. I forget so much yet it seems to all come back to me when I'm there. The process of revitalizing the city continues by leaps and bounds which is spectacular for a city that was one of the filthiest only a few decades ago. Of course I'd go back. And of course then in a year or two I'd want to be back here by the lake. Unless I live on the river; which I couldn't afford to. Unless I change something drastically. Which I have to do anyway as I am immensely unhappy. The difference this time is that I can see it all for what it is. No blame, fingerpointing or whining. I may not have the answers but I've accepted that the questions are no longer important if you only let them get in the way. So you go by your gut and you strive for a way to continually evolve.

I'll be around in a couple of days; have to unpack before bed. And unwind. I need some time to make sure I'm seeing what I think I see.

StarbuckKitwitCaptainJackSparrowNoGetOffThere!

All over the place for just a minute here. But you should pretty much be used to that from me...

My new doc has requested a second test. It's an offshoot of one I just had with different imaging added. Now. I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry because I don't see this ending well. Not the results, but the completion of the test itself. It involves balance, dexterity, speed, stamina and clear nasal passages. Lol, I'm not sure if I should fear what happens or laugh, figuring it'll make a good story. You think they'd provide a safety harness?

So I'm having this odd thing again. You know, the one with the push-pull. Sometimes I just want to go get lost in a city (not one I know) and blend. Blend so much that every face I see reminds me of nothing. Knowing I could do anything and it would never get back to anyone. No one to care what I say, wear, or do. Total detachment. Then I realize that I like to be a little away from that; to be able to escape to the lake or take a walk in the woods. I need to be able to go out and watch the duck babies or crudely identify birds. I'm not certain I'm ever going to find the blend of what I want. Thing is, if asked to give one up, I don't know what I would do - thats how closely meshed they are. Something tells me that one of those is a substitute for something else that is lacking in my life but since I can't identify it, it is coming out as being described that way. Hmm. Well, that's still no frickin' help to me.

Remember I told you about my little charge? The furry one. Well, he's 11 weeks now and I've managed to snap a photo of him. Might I say, that is a highly difficult thing to do because he never stops moving. I didn't bother cropping the photo - this is all you get. He's something else, though. And oh so entertaining. Still searching for a good home for him before he sucks up all my money. ;)



~

simple observation

Have you recently stopped to notice that sometimes you have an opportunity to get what you want, or think you wanted? The most unfortunate thing is when the timing is so far off it is laughable, or you no longer want it, or it just isn't right anymore. But you see it and a part of you still wants it to be what it once could have been. Even when it won't be.

All the while I can't help but wondering what other sorts of opportunities may be passing by unnoticed in the shadow of the darkly comedic twist of the aforementioned events.

First and Amistad

If my pc were to go any slower, it would simply stop. And surely my head would pop. No rhyme intended. Just had to get that out.

Hopefully you're all doing well and enjoying. Doesn't really matter 'what' does it? Just enjoying. Yep, your happiness tip from the Queen of Happy over here. Ironic, no?

So let's see - what's been going on here. Found a kitten at the side of the road, far from anything - dumped. Brought him home and fed the poor thing and got him to the vet. I'm taking more pics tomorrow so maybe I'll post one... he's adorable. I'd like to find him a quality home. I'm out because he'll get underfoot and trip gram. Not cool.

Work is work. A vast array of double standards greet me at the door daily. Oh well. I'm there til I leave. My choice, unless we're talking layoffs. One thing I can say is that I know why I like working with men better. Women should just have knives instead of fingers to stab you in the back better. Not all are like that but I've noticed that when they get in a group, they are. It's just like watching Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom without narration. And the scenery.

Last week I went to my doc (one, anyway) and ended up being alone with one other patient and her young kids. The doc has no receptionist and just calls you in order. So this woman has fallen so far asleep that I'm watching her respirations becoming very slow and shallow. I tried to rouse her and she would only partially come aware then pass out. As I decided it was time for me to get the doc, she wen't into a full blown seizure. The kids stayed, one at each side for the moment it took for me to come back with the doc. We got her stabilized and he went back to his current appt, me staying to talk with her and keep her engaged. Of course I let her go first. That was one hell of adrenaline jolt and even after spend 5+ hours in his office, I was awake for hours that night. I often bitch that nothing goes easy for me but in this case, I'm glad I was there that long or that retelling may have had a very different ending.

There's a possibility that I may be up for a minimum of one procedure or even another surgery. Grand. And that's just in one category. (TMI alert ahead) Today is day # 32 of my period. 32. Straight. Cramps and PMS fluctuating, exhaustion aplenty. 32 is wrong. My body will no longer cooperate. Even when they give it drugs to force it into cooperation. Lol - stubborn through and through, that's me! I will do what I want when I want. I used to think that was all in the mental realm but we've crossed over to the physical being as well. Interesting in a way. Even my uterus is stubborn, hmmm. Then in a week and a half or something I have a referral to a cardiologist. I sort of want to cancel. They've done the CT scan, labwork, urinalysis, nuclear stress test and all are normal. Except the fact that they 'found something' on my lung which they want to recheck in 5 months. Whatever it is, it already is. Plus, they said it was not the cause of my chest pain/pressure and difficulty/pain on inspiration. Annnd. It's been just over a month since my first visit and I haven't fallen over blue. Of course the problem still exists. The cardiologist will want to order more tests, I'm sure. Most of my time before work is spent at Physical Therapy for my shoulder. Not really sure when I am supposed to fit all of this in. Plus add to it that my mental state is causing me to be rather indifferent to death.

But be proud, I made myself (yes, it felt like a chore) accept a 'dinner on the grill' invitation from some friends. Also made myself dress... in a dress! Cute rockabilly number, actually. And also went to my aunt's for a cookout today. Where I only got my ass grabbed once by my cousin's husband. *sigh* So is this progress?

So I blurted out some of the basics. You get the idea that I'm all over the board. But all that crap is out of the way now and there you have it. I've always been honest here and I suppose stopping now is just pointless.

And now, off to bed!
~

I'm supposing this will do as some sort of 'proof', no?

Kitty is suspicious. She thinks I may be dead or something. To be honest, I feel not too far off.

There was a time not so long ago that I would get on this box here and and just vent like hell. But every time I try to say something, I can't. I have failed drafts. They failed not because they weren't grammatically correct or brimming with pleasing prose - please. When did I ever worry about that? They failed because I'd end up hanging my head and quietly shut down the program.

I'm worn out. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I don't want to be me anymore and I'm struggling to maintain and not get lost in the possibilities. My health is kinda screwed but it typically is. Just facing some new stuff, that's all. My opportunity for an 'out' of my current position into a new one in my department has been slashed and is still lying at my feet taking its last breaths. I didn't do anything wrong - they chose me. Another pharmacist quit and this is just part of the trickle down effect. I used to be Eleventh Hour Girl. Lately I feel like Circumstantial Girl. Not a fan.

Seems the sobbing fits that take me down very dark roads in my mind are easier to find than this pc. I figure nobody wants to hear some other case of drama when everyone has their own these days. And I've lost the humor, so that really would make it a downer. I'm just pulling away into my own little world. Too much in my head.

Don't get me wrong, I miss your collective little worlds. I'll work on putting up a post. It may be brief but if I want to keep negativity out of it, that's my only option for the moment. I'm working on changing it but there is much I have no control over. Nonetheless, I'll work on a post.

Until then - the Pittsburgh Penguins won the Stanley Cup tonight. Yay.

My typing has never been stellar, but I'm pretty sure dead people's is even worse. More proof.

So really, its not that I'm actually dead or anything.

There are just those times that life gets weird and busy. This is one of those times. I have so much going on that I can't imagine remembering even half of it just to give you an idea. And the kicker is that most of it really isn't important. I mean it is, but it isn't, right?

I've been wanting to get on here and do more than shop for a cell phone or search for an ebay gem, but I can't. First, my pc is moving like Arte Johnson. If you don't get that reference, it is just really freakin' slow. I did join the gym like I'd wanted to do and make myself go, even when I'm tired or don't feel well. Which is most of the time, really - and what do you know... it hasn't killed me yet! Although tonight I came quite close. I was watching hockey and the Pens got a goal. Don't ever let go of the bars on a treadmill to pump your fists in the air shouting a 'woohoo' because it will not end well. See, you do learn something new every day.

I shall leave you with that thought. As I always promise, I'll try to come visiting within the next three days or so. I have so little time right now. Things are a bit out of control, some is my doing and some is just life. Although tired, I'm ok with it, but I do miss some of my normal activities that I found enjoyment in - like visiting you all. It'll get back. Hey, if I could actually pass up donuts and muffins today in lieu of half an apple, I can do any damned thing I set my sights on. =)

Because when I arrive, I bring the fire....

I'm pretty much as annoyed by that song as I find myself enjoying it. Pick the pace up and then we can 'let it rock'. Could be a nice dance-house/acid-house/techno bit. But it is just too slow. And the goofy spoken rap thing is just lame. And yet I listen for a minute before I turn the station....

Anyway. Lately, lots really. I'm asserting myself at work, even if the boss doesn't go for the ideas. At least he knows that I do give a shit about that place, even though I deny it most days. Right now everyone hates everyone else. Seriously. I have to try to fix it or leave. Simple.

There was a fundraiser for the shelter (feline) that my mom (and sometimes I) volunteer at. I got the most fundraiser sales plus cash donations and physical donations. I was told I could sell a freezer to an Eskimo. Funny thing is my opening line was, "So, who wants to buy some over-priced fundraiser cookies?"

I've been keeping up with the gym and enjoying it. I wish I could spend more time there but at 9 or 9:30p, you kind of just don't want to linger, you know? And the one trainer is a trip so he and I laugh like kids when we're there together.

Best of all, I've been shopping like a madwoman. Yes, I know I hate shopping, but not at the moment. And I don't think it's mania. I think I've lost myself in so many ways that I feel like I have nothing to define myself by, save my music. So I've shopped. And when all else falls away I will know I am me by my goth/rockabilly/pinup style. I want to be the girl that wears her rockabilly tulle dress with satin sash simply to shop for groceries. That way, I'll know it's me.

Remember my little surgery from a couple of months ago? Well, we might be having more of a problem. 'We' meaning my ovaries and I. The next few days will tell my course of action as far as a doc appt goes.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm utterly psychotic and unpredictable? Yesterday I did a u-turn in the middle of the road, slammed my car to a halt about 4" from the plate glass window of a store and got out screaming obscenities at my mother. Hey, she started it. Well, she did. We'll speak eventually. Of course this may have something to do with above topic.

Although it is just after midnight and I have yet to turn into a pumpkin, squash or gourd, I shall take my leave. Rest is required. After all, when I arrive, I bring the fire.

Be well xoxo

I never thought that going out in a blaze of glory meant almost getting arrested in WalMart optical.

But, when we're referring to me, anything is possible. Lets just say that any time I need to go to that store, I'll surely need to enter and exit from the far side lest Optical call security. It was ugly but this is the one thing I will say. When I walked in my lenses were fine, two minutes later they weren't. You utterly fucked them up and rendered them useless. And then. Then you had the nerve to tell me they were fine. As if you all agreed, I'd just cave in and agree too. Gee. The Emperor has no fucking clothes. My ass.

During my far-stretching excursions to remedy the above situation, which is hugely important - I'm blind as a bat with no echolocation, I almost get myself killed due to my car inexplicably stalling, crosswise, in the middle of two lanes. Thankfully I got going before the van hit me. He wasn't slowing down. These bastards are as mean as I am.

Enter a medical situation that was to be remedied with recent surgery. Whoomp! Descends on me like an 87-pound earthbound cloud. Apparently the surgery was not an immense success? So back to square 1.13; at least the pathology was clear, so that doesn't suck.

So what does this mean? The natives are restless my friend. Very fucking restless. When I get this restless I make decisions like a cobra strikes - quick, and does it ever pack a punch. Often, not the best ones, too. I'll just take off, catch an overpriced hockey game, cut/dye my hair, buy clothes with lots of metal on them. You know, kind of symbolic of the mental/emotional bondage I've got going on. Or I could just blow someone for a ticket. What's the big deal? Apparently I'm trying to disassociate while putting up some sort of fuss to delay it.

Damn it! Checked prices and don't think I can afford hockey. And I'm NOT doing anything more than blowing anyone for a ticket. But I do like hockey...

If only things had worked out differently in WalMart optical. Dude, my wires are seriously crossed.

Sometimes the urge to just sign out for a while is rather compelling.

And by 'sign out' I mean ignore all forms of communication (except B-grade movies and forgotten sitcoms of the early 80s), no talking to anyone (detox), eventually subsisting on condiments and dry cat food only changing clothes if the need absolutely arises. Showers don't even enter the equation.

It is no surprise to me that it is March and I feel this way. Beware the Ides of March to be sure. You'll want to fucking kill yourself by that time if you've been fortunate (and I use the term loosely) to make it this far. Well, either kill yourself or everyone else. Some of us aren't too particular. Lack of sunlight? Freezing temps? Winds of the ages? My guess is they all combine to be a giant pain in my ass. And yeah, perhaps a few others here in this portion of the hemisphere.

But screw them, I've just spent the past two days puking into various receptacles, public and non, yet have been fed the misinformation that the cold weather kills the viruses. Well, it surely didn't kill that little muthafucker now, did it?! I won't even begin to talk to you about my dining room floor.

So is it the weather? Being ill? General unhappiness with [enter topic here] in my life? Or is it just that I feel like my grip, however slight at times, is fading? Its as if the things I used to fight for are all falling by the wayside and I'm not even sure how much I care. Maybe after a full on cease-fire with the vomiting and some sunshine I could have a chance at answering that.

Michael Vincent is either the second coming or will need the help of the witness protection program.

Perhaps you aren't familiar with Michael Vincent but I suppose I'd have to say he and I are fairly close. Not to brag or anything; he emails me at least once a day if not more. And he knows things. Every day he emails me to say he's found me a new job. Huh. Without even asking, he just took it upon himself. How did he even know that I was considering it?? Creepy...

Ok, so I'm just referring to some irritating spam. But the thing is this: I am thisclose to taking him up on his offer. I'm to the point that I have to sedate myself again just to get through a shift. With that in mind, this job he claims to have had better be one found via divine intervention or if not, he'll want to seek protection. After all, I can find shit-ass jobs without anyone's help, thankyouverymuch.

I've been thinking about this. Yes, yes, I'm sure that comes as a shock. But when I boil it all down, there are just a few things core thing that are making me the poster child for How To Violently Self-Destruct in Three Easy Steps (dismembered action figure sold separately). Here they are in no special order. I'm being given too much responsibility without the tools I need to carry it out and coworkers that resist everything. It is a hostile environment with management that would rather not be bothered with anything less than a meeting with the CEO. Ok, so maybe just two main things, but they encompass alot.

I don't want to leave just to walk into something similar (I have a way of picking this scenario) but I'm not sure what to do or how to go about it. What do you think? Career change? Ideas? School? I'm just lost right now. I should know this answer but I don't. Unfortunately, I don't think Mr. Vincent does, either.

Have I mentioned that I hate wind?

Well if I haven't, I do. I will never own a convertible. I do not like the wind in my hair. It tangles my hair, makes my ears hurt and dries out my stinkin' eyeballs. Plus, it is just noisy. Blech, to all of it. Blech I say!! So last week we had sustained winds of over 60mph. And when I say sustained, I mean like for two days. That was our base wind speed not including the gusts. What does that get you?

This is the block next to the hospital.
There were six utility poles brought down, poles snapped like matchsticks. Running a hospital on generator power is a bit unsettling.

Meh, just a little FYI while I contemplate my next post. It's in my head already, I'm just reluctant to let it loose.

Z3r() (**plus)

(Dan, this one's for you.)

There are times that I would prefer to be delusional. I want to be the girl that gets irate when her boyfriend cheats on her with his wife. The person who denies their meth addiction while speaking through darkly eroded teeth. The one who continues to yell, come find me when the game of Hide & Seek is long over; the counter tapping them on the shoulder. The girl that continues to sing and act out a video long after the music stops even though she can't carry a tune in a bucket.

Hey wait, that last one IS me...

Anyway. My point is this. I can't be those people. I will never be them. I knew from the very start that the Emperor had no clothes and was never able to see things any other way. From time to time, I try, thinking that if I blend with the herd my life will be easier.

I cannot blend. I do not blend. That is what makes me, me. Some days it makes me feel the hurt of the ages. Other days, I just am. Over time I learned that left of center is where I fit best; an anchor of sorts that ensures I won't succumb to the Brownian movement of the herd.

Sometimes I wish I was one of those people; for the delusional, things are simpler. But comfort in my differentness guides me and I veer off, skipping and tripping along my own quirky, variable, off key path. Bucket optional.


Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness
Bullshit fakers, enchanted kingdoms
The fashion victims chew their charcoal teeth
I never let on, that I was on a sinking ship
I never let on that I was down
Wanna go for a ride?
(The Smashing Pumpkins, Zero)
~

** Truth be told, this sat in my draft folder overnight. Perhaps it was waiting for this... on my single hospital round this evening, I was faced with this mid-conversation comment: "You know, you aren't just left of center, its like you went full circle then stopped there!" The handful of us got a good laugh and I realized that that was the best compliment I've had in a while. Why? These people really like me and think rather highly of me. They don't like me in spite of my weirdness, they like me because of it. Its a good thing I don't know any other way to be.

I'm making myself see the humor here although the burning rubber makes that a tad difficult.

Every now and then I have so many things going on that I just up and spring a leak. Mentally speaking. And that is really quite alright with me. If I don't, the consequences could be dire when you stop and think about it. And it makes for some exquisitely bizarre dreams if I do say so myself. Just a little sidebar o' thought, not my actual topic.

If you haven't caught on yet, I am the sort of person that the word dichotomy was invented for. No really. I've been this way my entire life and as time went on, I suppose I learned to adapt and not spawn, so to speak. Accept your destiny and all that crap. Or was it 'density'? Anyway. I think that in accepting that I am the physical manifestation of the word dichotomy itself, I am able to see two sides of the same coin in certain circumstances as opposed to one. Lets go back in time a bit, shall we?

Here we are in the far ago time of... last week. I'm leaving work and as usual the parking lot is marginally worse than the roads, although they aren't anything to write home about, in reference to snow and ice. The sky is dark and the air is cold but I take the time to clean off any snow and ice built up under the wheel wells. Taking off I notice that my car seems to have taken on a life of it's own and blame it on the rotten parking lot. After two blocks I pull off - steering is difficult, there is some severe resistance, and now a giant cicada has taken up residence under my car as evidenced by the shrill squealing. I'm out of the car in a flash violently beating the remaining ice and snow chunks from around the tires while words I didn't even know I knew began to fly out of my mouth cursing winter. Back in the car...

And I inch along to a red light, then to another. By the time I get up to a cruising speed of above 6.5 mph, I find that I'm squealing and the resistance has certainly not gone away. Every flaw in the road has me struggling to maintain control. So I make a call and ask for someone to meet me once I got my car turned around to a place where the heavenly beings at AAA could tow my obviously defective car. Well. Due to copious amounts of snow and record-breaking low temps, I had not one place to turn around without blocking a driveway or ripping out the undercarriage of my car. I had no choice to keep going for 5 miles or so. When I finally pulled in, there was a huge clunk that rang out from under the car telling me that the sound was either a very good thing or a very, very bad thing...

So I walk around the car trying to see if an axle had perhaps busted into pieces but it appeared to be fine. The burning rubber smell was a bit disconcerting but hey, all four tires were fully inflated with no obvious damage, like a metal rod poking out, so what could I do? I opted to move down a building or two as this one didn't have a number and I wanted AAA to find me before I was frozen. It turns out the giant clunk was a good thing because my car was running fine after that happened! To be sure, I swapped cars with someone and they took mine to the dealer for a checkup. My car did well for them speeding down the freeway as well. In the end...

No one there had ever seen anything like it. Even the senior techs that have been working on cars for 30 years. According to them, it defies explanation but thankfully there was no major damage done. They say it most likely was ice in the wheel bearings or even a chunk of the pavement mixed in (from overzealous snowplowers) which would explain the clunk. Even so, they never saw it happen like this...

Um, yeah. That is a view of the tread of my tire. One of the techs took it for me (apparently on their gin and tonic break) and emailed it as I wasn't there. What you are looking at is the end result of driving on a locked wheel and dragging the ass end of the car. Yes, just one. They are puzzled as to how the other wheel managed to turn leaving this as the only one to lock. You can see from the outer edge the varying layers of disaster right down to the pale part in the center, which is the metal layer of the tread in the tire. How I accomplished this I will never know...

Yet I cannot help but be grateful that although I am unknowingly destructive, I was safe, now that I know it could have just given out at any moment - with me or the person that took it in for me. So without a clue, I utterly kill it but have the luck of it not rupturing and tossing me into an icy lake. Which is similar to the time I drove home one night on the freeway going 65mph or so, then managed to get a blow out on the road to my house going 25mph. Now really, who gets an actual blowout going 25mph?!?! Thankfully I do as I may not have made it through one at the previous speed. Or the more humorous time I drove almost 20 miles thinking there was a weather or traffic helicopter flying nearby only to learn that I had a flat (I'd never had one) and was hearing the remaining shreds flap about. Even then, I didn't so much as scratch the rim and the tire center happened to be late leaving that day. It was the day of one of my numerous moves; I never missed a beat.

$500 later we're all confused over what happened, except for the fact that I got new tires. Perhaps there is some little known patron saint of automobile tires that has permanently affixed itself to my being. Which is astonishingly cool, even if I am thrown to the wolves in other instances. I mean really, getting saved the by this little known patron saint so I don't crash only to save me so the rest of life's goons can get me up the arse. You gotta love it!
~

I lived! Yay, a bonus!

This will be quick. Thank you for your support from the surgery, Dr. Charm/Dr. Prick (he has many names...) and checking in when I disappear. So, here's the scoop. Things are all in place from surgery, all reports came back fine. Wheeeewh! I rested, or shall I say that I passed out daily for long lengths of time with a hearty gusto. I quite enjoyed it. Overlapping this procedure was the official diagnosis of Trigeminal Neuralgia. This is pure hell. I've included a link. The little video shows a super-quick surgery but if you read into symptoms, etc it'll give you an idea. I could barely get in and out of the car two days post-op and there I was at the neurologist for this. So read on that a bit and I should be back on the weekend. Perhaps the new meds will continue to help without breakthrough episodes. Hope all is well with you and I'll surely see you soon! xoxo =)

If it must be metal, make mine heavy. Mercury will do nicely.

First and foremost, I'd like to say that my mother's first post op, post radiation appointment was a great success! Still a few things to work on and tweak, but she's doing so well. On occasion she comments on how this was easier than she thought. That in comparison to many others, this seemed like a piece of cake. Where was her pain? Agony? Suffering? In her mind, she feels as if she cheated somehow; cancer diagnosis, surgery, radiation, cancer gone. Just that quick. She can't believe that she was just 'lucky'. Knowing her history, I told her that just perhaps all of the terrible and very unlucky things she went through were a trade off to give her breathing room at some point in the future when she really needed it. This might that time. But she is good. And we are happy.

I had an ER visit the other day. I won't go into detail now, perhaps in a couple days, but I had to report the physician. And if I don't get the results I want; which, I don't know what that might be but I figure I'll know it when I see it, I will personally report him to the medical board. You know, the folks that grant him his license. I want this on his record. I want any person checking on him as a prospective new physician to know what they are getting into. Ah, the smell of self-induced public humiliation. You can be rude to me. You can be rude to those I am with. You can treat me like an imbicile. I certainly don't recommend it, but you can. You can even deny me treatment for fuck-all knows why. I'll find another doctor. But don't you ever, ever, intentionally mock my integrity nor imply anything that could get me fired. Just because you're a prick. Because now, all of those other things DO matter and the gloves are off.

Thankfully he's not my surgeon. With whom I will begin a close and way too intimate relationship come Monday morning. After I'm home and feeling decent, I'll hop on this box and tell you how it went. Hint: If I'm home typing it can't be too entirely bad, can it?
`