It's like seeing inside my brain:

via Infinite Butterflies



Via Momentarily



Via FYAwesome

Blender brain! Update!

Last week was a strange week - Lil Girl stayed home sick (with a vicious cough), so as not to infect her infectious auntie; Dad stayed home sick, here, with pink eye or something, and wandered around the house a lot saying random things and aggravating me (perhaps unreasonably, but also: don't ask me the same question 17 times and expect me to be cheerful eversingletime!); and I couldn't see well for a large portion of the week, so reading and typing and watching tv and all those good distractable things that I count on were off the table, and my pain level was pretty high.

My pain seems to have platoughed, my eye is so much better now, and I even got to leave the house yesterday, which was a nice change of pace, as was a mostly cheerful SisterJ, who I miss when she's not here.

All of that backstory was supposed to lead into a meaningful blog post, but somewhere around the time that I started talking about my eye, I totally forgot what the point of the post was going to be.

So, let's just call it an update and call it a day, shall we?

See, I needent have worried

because Jon has me covered:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Mass Backwards
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

Robocalls are a stupid invention.

Have I mentioned before that I live in Massachusetts? I'm sure I have: I'm generally proud to be from this state - We're at the forefront on gay marriage, we beat the rest of the country to universal health care, and we've decided that R's are a completely unnecessary letter of the alphabet: what's not to love?

However, I would like, very much, not to be living in Massachusetts this week, as there is a big Senate race on right now, and the candidates - what with their commercials and 9 Robocalls a day and their constant bickering - are both driving me up a wall. Also, for some reason that is completely unclear to me, a Republican has a pretty good chance of winning Ted Kennedy's old seat. In a state where there are 3 registered Dems for every registered Republican, it boggles the mind. As Stephen Colbert said last week, this is definitely a sign of the coming Apocalypse...

And, of course, it gives us a prime opportunity to screw up the rest of the country, because if the Republican candidate wins, he'll be #41, thus blowing the Democrats' "super majority" (not that they've been able to accomplish anything with the super majority, but still). So goodbye health care bill: we've got ours, so the rest of you can just suck it. That seems like some great Massachusetts liberalism in play right there.

Anyways, I don't usually go off on political rants here, because, well, I have to defend my hippie-commie-liberal-pinko ways enough in person, so who wants to start something here, but I have to write something, because this kind of stuff makes me stressed out. I have to not listen to any of it, because attack ads (from my candidate, especially) and obviously, horrifically untrue statements (which I have to say have been more from the other side this time) make me want to throw up. It's like when I was younger and somebody would start picking on somebody else or my parents would start screaming at each other - it wasn't my fight, & you don't want draw attention to yourself, but you kind of wish you had the courage to just step in and say "Shut it! You're wrong, and you're mean, and there's no damn reason to be... Now play nice or walk away!" Play nice or walk away: why is that such a hard concept for people? Especially politicians? (And is it any wonder teaching kids to be nice to each other is something that attracted me so much?)

And also? Calling people 72 times in one weekend is not going to convince them that you understand their problems and will be there for them. It will convince them that you have no fricking clue what it means to be a human being, and that electing you is not their best decision. If you were smart, you'd start reading Facebook: more than half of my Massachusetts friends spent the day complaining about the calls they've gotten this weekend: either the number or the attitude of the callers themselves (pushy, much?)... I'd say every single status update today was either about the snow/ice or these calls. Ah: the phone rings again, I kid you not. And it's nearly 9 at night. I wish my eye was better and I could just read a book, shut off the whole rest of the world.

Let's see if I've unpacked my Firefly dvds, shall we?

I would tell any Massachusetts readers I have not to forget to vote tomorrow, but I think there's a slim chance of that happening.

I'm going to try to bribe my sister and her husband to vote, instead.

I lied...

about it being my last eye post. Sorry, but I thought I'd give you just a quick update: I have an infection on my cornea. It's a little bit abnormal, but the optometrist said it probably has something to do with my piece of crap immune system, and prescribed an eye drop I have to put in once every hour for the next few days, and then I go back on Monday. For my favorite-est of things: more eye drops (this time pretty colors - they make me cry yellow tears) and bright shiny lights directly into the very sore eyeball! Yay. Am wicked excited. But - today's drops have at least numbed my eye, so that I can talk to you nice people without turning the computer screen down so dim that I couldn't read it if I wanted to. Bonus.

Also, the optometrist seemed surprised that it had taken me so long to come in, which, I know ~ we've talked before about how, for me, having a strange-ass chronic illness (or multiple strange-ass chronic illnesses) makes it difficult to distinguish how real a problem actually is, but I have to say this fits right in there - it was something in my eye! Like an eyelash or something... How could that be a real problem? Everybody gets things in their eyes, and those things go away, right? And, ok, yes, I knew it was serious when it was still so sore a few days later, but that's why I bought the eye wash, and, when it didn't get better, that's when I called the doctor. I don't know: it seems reasonable both ways to me, even now. Who knows?

Anyways, the point is that ouch. My eye hurts. Especially when there is light, which is ALL THE FRIGGING TIME. My family grows more and more convinced that I am not really ill, but am, in fact evolving into a vampire. I am not entirely convinced that they are wrong.

It's been about a week and a half,

since I've been here, and I apologize for that.

But I think I'm going to skip the long explanations that explain nothing, really, and just say: my brain has been tired, and I have not felt like ordering it to work. Which is fine, really, except that all the posts I wrote in my tired head during the past week are now gone into the ether, and I have to come up with something to write because we all know the longer I go without posting, the harder it gets to post.

So, onto today's post:

Did you know that my most popular post, the post that gets the most comments and hits (at least one a day, I am not kidding you) is this one? 42 comments, as of today. Apparently, something I thought only I was careless enough to do (accidentally getting gel deodorant squirted into my eye) is pretty damn common. The number of people who find me after Googling "got deodorant in my eye" is very high... that search is, by far, my biggest referral.

I'm not entirely sure I'm happy to be known on the Internet as the girl who got deodorant in her eye, but I'm glad that I'm not the only one. I'm also happy to let people know that, while I have no medical training, and cannot guarantee anything, all of the people who searched and found me after getting deodorant in their eyes, at the very least, saw well enough to type. So, while it stings worse than shampoo or most other things you may have accidentally got in your eyeball (I will refrain from judgement here), it will probably get better relatively quickly. If I remember correctly, my eye was fine after a few hours, and only red for a day or so.

Not like this week, in which I did absolutely nothing whatsoever to my damn eye, and haven't been able to see clearly for three days. I also can't keep the eye open any length of time and have taken to wearing my sunglasses inside the house. Although today, I just shut off all sources of light - I am typing this on it's darkest setting, and occasionally peeking behind a piece of paper to check for misspellings - and confined myself to a dark room. Where I couldn't read or write or watch TV or any of the things I usually do to distract myself from my normal pain, so guess what kind of a week I have been having? (*And, oh, how this is its own post, readers: distraction as pain management technique, and how the loss of those distractions is like flaying yourself raw and then swimming in the ocean.)

I honestly have no idea what got in there, because it has felt like a little crumb of something is just under my eyelid, but I don't see anything. I thought about going to the doctor, but what do I say: "My eye hurts, but I don't know why?" I am giving it until tomorrow to straighten up, though... if it ain't better/improving by then, screw it, I'm calling. And then, of course, my eye got all red and weepy (sorry - disgusting, I know), and for whatever reason when my eye gets watery, my nose starts to run, and ALSO, the more I blow my nose, the more my face gets all broken out, so now my nose and one eye are all red, and I've got little cuts all over the place, so basically I look like I've been fighting with a very angry cat that I am also allergic to, or something. Tres attractive, I am sure.

On the plus side, I can't look in the mirror, because it hurts to open my eye, so there's that.

I think it was at it's worst this morning, though, because it hurt so bad I actually did something about it. I sent my dad to the store for some Visine (even though it gives me a rash on my skin, I would deal with that for an eye that functions), and he brought home an eye wash/eye cup thing instead. Have you ever had to do this? The directions are simple and straightforward - fill cup with solution, put cup on eye, tilt head back, OPEN EYE AND ROLL IT AROUND with the solution pouring right into it, empty cup, pat eye dry.

Simple, right?

Except that you are talking to the only person in the history of my optometrist to learn how to put contact lenses on by finally being allowed to do it without looking. I was in my 20s, and it took 3 lessons. Because the guy who was giving the lessons kept saying, "You have to look at your finger when you're putting it in your eye!" and "I have taught 4 year olds how to do this, now look at your finger!" That approach did not work for me, so finally I said to him, "How about if we try it this way?" and I looked in the opposite direction and snuck it in my eye while I wasn't looking and then blinked a few times: voila! Mission accomplished. (Off Topic - this is also the way I taught myself how to swallow pills: put food/drink in your mouth first, then slip the pill in, and act like it isn't there and just swallow your food/drink. Easy peasy.)

So the whole, open your eye and swish the water around in it, thing? Not my cup of tea. Basically I wound up having to tip my head back, and then blink really fast for as long as I could. What? It seems to have helped, so why knock it?

My eye is still puffy and red and hurting, but it's getting better, I think.

This concludes my second - and hopefully last post about stuff getting in my eye (and if I ever figure out what it was this time, trust me that I will avoid that substance like the eye plague it truly is). Enjoy the rest of your day, and I'll try and come up with something less gross for tomorrow's post.

"Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open,

and rules are flexible -- the kind of atmosphere that is found in a nurturing family." - Virginia Satir


If you've been here for a while, then you know that I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I never really did, because I know how my brain works: I spend a lot of time coming up with resolutions, figuring out ways to accomplish them, figuring out ways to avoid accomplishing them, and then feeling guilty about breaking them. It's a vicious cycle that takes place approximately 742 times throughout the year, so I don't need an extra, mandatory date to create issues for myself.

Instead, taking a cue from Spoon Theory creator Christine Miserando, I pick one word that I try to focus on over the course of the year.

In 2008, the word was closer.
Last year, even though I didn't declare it here, the word I kept coming back to was breathe, especially since the year started off with us not knowing where we were going to be living, and then I spent 4.5 months in limbo at my Grandmother's house. Reminding myself - when I felt like I was accomplishing nothing, or that I was wasting time - that all that was absolutely required of me was breathing in and out, was a great help.

This year, I've put a lot of thought into a word that actually A) means something and B) will be easily applied (see cycle of resolutions above if you were wondering why it has to be simple). Some of the contenders were Truth, Choice, and Balance, all of which were good, but none of which seemed to be the perfect choice.

The word I came up with is Worth.

Looking at the definition of worth, I was pleased to see its roots are from Middle English, meaning to "become". Nowadays, it means the quality of something, the value of it. Something's equivalent. Something that is "good or important enough to justify" ie "advice worth taking; a place worth visiting". It can mean "excellence of character" or the esteem it deserves/garners, its "usefulness or importance". It's not just about monetary or material riches, but wealth of a different sort as well.


This year I'm going to focus on what things are worth, in a real and honest way. I'm going to think about what things are equal to, where excellence is actually found, and whether or not I'm truly valuing that excellence.

I need to be honest in ascribing worth - to things (Am I holding on to junk? Am I stockpiling things instead of valuing what I already have?); to people (Is it really worth another argument? Am I giving certain relationships their due or shortchanging them?); to time (What am I really spending time on vs what I want to spend time on. What is my time worth to me - and how can I show other people it's value?); to everyday actions (Is the taste of what I am eating worth the consequences for eating it? Is staying up all night typing the best way to be worth something in the morning? Since I know I won't take my pills regularly if I don't fill in those little days, isn't it worth it to fill in those little days even though I hate that job?); to the type of person I am trying to be (Am I trustworthy? Am I worth the effort it requires to be my friend? Am I sharing the true me with people who have proven worthy, or am I holding back?)... There are a million areas I need to look at in my life, a million places I could be putting what little energy I have to better use. So I'm going to try to be constantly asking myself... Is this worth it? What is this worth?

I think that living with chronic illnesses is all about asking this question - that there's so often a give and take, that there are so many reactions for every action. And, after a certain point, it gets overwhelming. It's scary, having to think every little thing through. It's frightening not knowing what the consequences for certain things will be. But that's not just living with a chronic illness, that's living. Period. So I have to stop being so passive about certain things, I have to start accepting the fact that the way I live - in the here and now, and the day to day - is my life, and I want to be doing as much of the choosing as I possibly can. So I need to start deciding what things are worth, what I am worth and how I can be more worthy.

It's funny, because I find that these keywords, or themes, or whatever you want to call them tend to stick with me. I still find myself asking "Does this bring me closer to my goals?" "Am I remembering to breathe?" has become almost a motto at this point. So I hope that focusing on the worth of my efforts & actions will become second nature to me by this time next year.

That seems as good a goal as any.

------------------------------------
Definitions for worth via Merriam Webster dictionary & Dictionary.com

I just saw this post by one of my favorite bloggers, and even though I have a very small blog audience, and because I know all of you have big hearts, I thought I'd share it with you.

Hi Brandy! I am a long-time mostly lurker, and I wish we were getting to know each other under better circumstances. Please know that I am not much of a prayer, but I definitely know how to keep people in my head and heart, and hope that it helps them. And now you and your totally awesome internet guy are on my list, so I've got my fingers crossed for you.


My name is brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He's recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He's the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I'm overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren't sure what's happening. He'll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what's going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as 'brandy's hot awesome dude'). If you don't pray, please keep him in your heart. This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven't seen it, google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

It will come as no surprise

to anybody that I am sick.

I was going to say "really, really sick", but I think I could knock it down to just one "really" at this point, because I am fever free(ish), and that is usually a turning point for me.

Just like last year, I went and got myself sick right after Christmas. Actually, this year, it's been a little bit different for a few reasons (like the fact that I am actually writing this while it is still December, rather than the middle of January), but basically, it went like this:

1. I realized I was getting sick as we were going through the frenzy of last week's Christmas preparations, and I started taking my back up antibiotics as soon as that happened.
   
2. Unfortunately, I still had a million and a half cookies to bake, and a sick Lil Girl to entertain, and Mum who was sick (and had left all her Xmas shopping til the last minute as usual), and therefore I had to do things like manage to get my own food and essentials like that, and so I couldn't really just rest and try to head things off as much as I might like to have.
3. On Christmas, I wore myself out even more. Mostly having fun, although there was some managing of things that I really should've just let go mixed in there too. But still, mostly having fun.
   
4. By dessert time on Christmas day, my throat was scratchy, my head was stuffy, and I knew I was getting a fever. I started coughing, but everybody was coughing, so no big deal, right?
5. Wrong. Big deal. By three in the morning, after everyone has finally given up on the Beatles Band Hero, and either gone home or gone to bed, I knew I was in serious trouble. I was having trouble breathing, my throat was so swollen; I could barely move because of the damn fever; and Imight be wrong, but I think someone must have transformed my room into a sauna as a surprise Christmas present for me.
   
6. Saturday and Sunday disappeared into a fevered fog. I have vague recollections of chills so violent I required four blankets (which all hurt: thanks FM!) & two heating pads, and the fact that there seemed to be an endless cycle of having to drink, having to get up to pee, and crying because it hurt so bad. I gave up on watching movies, and spent a lot of time staring into the window lights for no damn reason except that I couldn't think enough to realize that I knew how to shut them off.
   
7. Monday morning, the fever broke and has been mostly gone since then, which means I was able to rewatch (and actually understand this time) Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince (awesome), and the antibiotics finally start to kick in so that I was finally able to swallow something other than soup.
8. "Eating" nothing but soup for three days does not agree with my stomach. My stomach decided to make its disagreement well known.
   
9. Yesterday, I finally got in the shower, and Mum changed my disgusting sheets, and after that I felt vaguely human again. Brain power started slowly coming back, and I remembered things I am supposed to stay connected to like my sister's mother-in-law's surgery and my cousin's ultrasound results.
   
10. We finally get to today, where I feel halfway decent (for me), and have gone from sounding like a cigar-smoking Darth Vadar to just a cigar-smoking frog. The hacking cough is lighter and less croup-y, and my tonsils are back on their own sides of my throat.
    

While this is hopeful, and I'm glad the antibiotics are really working this time, I would really just like to not catch every damn thing. Next year, I'm making the cookie dough in August, and freezing it all. And I'm going to start shopping now, because I can not let myself get so run down. And it pisses me off that 15 years into this damn disease, I still haven't managed to set - and keep - the limits that I need to in order to help myself stay healthy. Which isn't to say that I wouldn't have caught it anyways - Lil Girl, Mum, (not) Youngest Nephew, & his dad are all/have all been sick either this week or last week, so it's not just me of the ruined immune system, but I know that there are ways to protect myself more, and I hate that I let my guard down in that area when things get stressed. Because these damn infections are starting to get more and more serious, and I am not going back to the hospital if I can help it at all.

So, now onto step 11: rest, rest, Guitar Hero, rest, eat real food, watch crappy TV, more rest. Join me, why don't you?

Merry Christmas

Hope you are all where you wish to be this Christmas. And with people who matter to you. Just thought you should know you matter to me.

Merry Christmas!

Yesterday was a day lost to smells - between the gasoline for the snow blower, and my dad deciding to burn orange peels, I spent the day battling both nausea and a migraine, and accomplished nothing. I can't afford lost days during normal times of the year, but at this point, I was so angry about the whole situation, my dad was pretty lucky that I was immobile & non-communicative. He just doesn't think, or, even worse, he doesn't ask, and I'm beyond frustrated with the whole damn situation. But that was yesterday. Moving on.

Thankfully, today I am feeling a little bit better, with just a hangover kind of headache. The pukiness has dialed wayy down, which is lucky because I have to make about 65 batches of cookies today. :) I love baking, and I've been looking forward to this, so I'm not going to let yesterday spoil my mood. It's a new day, and I'm amping up my Christmas spirit.

To help with that, I thought I'd share the kids' Santa picture as My Best Shot for this Monday. If you're one of my once-a-week type visitors, let me just wish you the happiest of holidays while I have the chance. Hope the snow hasn't messed too much with your plans.



As always, don't forget to head over to Tracey's, because the Best Shots are one of my favorite parts of the week.

We're still waiting for the snow to start here,

but we're all safely wherever we are supposed to be, so I'm definitely in the "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!" crowd. I tend to disbelieve the weather guys - as more often than not their predicted amounts are not even close - but right now they're still saying 8-15 inches in our area, although they're leaning toward the smaller amount closest to us. We shall see.

If you're buried under the snow, use it to your advantage: bake some cookies, watch some Christmas movies, wrap some presents.

That's what I'm going to try to do.

-------------------------------------

I'm sorry for the light posting - I think this must be part of the reason I do NaBloPoMo every year: so that I won't feel so guilty when I can't post all the time in December. I've been sick (shocker); Mum's been sick (so that I have to try to do more for myself); my brother and sister-in-law have been disagreeing (and dragging me into it); and our newest addition added a good 7 hours of (totally worth it) travel to my plans last weekend (which I am still kind of recuperating from). So: it's been a lot, I'm trying to cope with stress in positive ways, but I'm not really sure that I'm accomplishing that. (Fact: if my dad turns the heat down one more time, I might lock him out on the porch. Those are good coping skills, right?) I hate not writing, though, because then I get all clogged up in my head, and my mood suffers. So I'm going to try to be better this week about saying things here, so that certain members of my family don't have to go buy tents.

Deep breath. New day. Off to wait for the snow.

My goodness

have I had a busy weekend: a 2nd birthday party for my cousin's twins on Saturday (about an hour away), and then yesterday, instead of getting our Christmas tree, we got my newest nephew instead!

Here he is SisterS's new baby, BabyB ... it'll have to do for now: Poor Youngest Nephew is going to need a new name too, but I'm too brain-fogged to think of a good name for either of them today, so ... settle for a picture?




I thought so. Here's our newest addition. I'm now an auntie to four great kids: How did that happen? (And, literally, this is less than half of my siblings... I could be in big trouble, eventually.)

Have a great week, everybody, and don't forget to head over to MBSM.

I took a couple of days off

from posting. I was in a mood/trying to get things accomplished in real life/fighting off a cold/sick of my own voice/frustrated with the entire world/take your pick. I am still most of those things, come to think of it.
I had to reschedule my appointment with Zack that was supposed to be on Wednesday (now it's February 1st... sigh) because of snow and a car that won't work, and feeling generally like crap (but not crappy enough to necesitate seeing him immediately), and I am disappointed about rescheduling it because I really wanted to talk to him. I am getting some Christmas shopping done online, but not enough. I am getting some decorating done, but, again, not enough.

And I know I am the only one putting all this pressure on myself, and that makes me even more frustrated.

I like to give myself all this credit for all of the adaptations I make in order to live with my illnesses, and I talk a good game about how you have to listen to your body and know your limits, but sometimes I can't help but be my own worst enemy. Christmas time - with it's clump of surrounding birthdays and all the 'essentials' of the season - seems to erase all of my logical decision making skills.

Should I work for 10 hours straight on scrapbook pages, because it is too much work to clean off my bed and then take it all out again? Of course I should! Should I volunteer to make something else for somebody, even though I haven't finished the 12 other projects I've got going? Of course I should! Is it ok if the kids sleep over from now until Christmas? Of course it is! Should I add another pie, and two more types of cookies to the list of things I want to bake next week? Definitely! Should I go to the mall, with all the germy people? Should I forget to eat and take my pills because I am too busy? Should I drop everything because someone else needs me to do something else I hadn't planned on doing? Absolutely, without a doubt!


Sorry for the grouchiness... I'm definitely not a Grinch, as Christmas makes me feel warm and fuzzy. It's more that I need to realize I can't do all of the things I want to do, and I need to cut myself some slack on letting things go.
Should I just wrap myself up in the fuzzy blanket, have a cup of hot chocolate, and try to take a nap? Now that's a pressure I can cave under.

Mission Accomplished

Tomorrow, let's try adding something like 4) Accomplish some damn thing or another, why don't we?

November has come and gone,

and I didn't publish either of the two posts I promised: The Oracle/abilism post I've been writing since Halloween just still seems like a first draft (even though it is actually my third), and the XMRV post has ballooned into something that looks like 5 posts, with additional information coming in everyday. So I apologize for that - I am still hoping to get them both posted relatively soon. In the meantime, I am kind of* excited about decorating the new house for Christmas; I've gotten a few bits and pieces of shopping done; and I'm eagerly waiting our newest arrival (SisterS is due 9 days!), even if he is going to live too far away for me to regularly snuggle.

Do you have your December planned to the hilt, or are you taking it as it comes?




*"Kind of" because I am also exhausted and still flaring, and it seems that this flare I was worried about back in September has really decided to settle in here for a while. I also love how it takes me three months to declare myself actually worse, even though it was true from that first day... blah.

We made it (again!)

Yay!

Recovering from a physically hard but emotionally happy weekend, and so, for today's post, you get this:

Bring on December! (Holy crap, it's December!)

One more day to post,

and there was more than one day I didn't think I'd make it, but here we are. I'll check back with you tomorrow! (Remind me that I absolutely posatutely do not want to try NaNo Writing Month next year, like I thought I might. No. Maybe in April, but definitely not in November. The End.)

Pie for breakfast is healthy, right?

So, Thanksgiving was fabulous here (Until I sort-of passed out, while trying not to pass out, and thought I was being really discreet and all, but everybody started getting up and leaving. Oops.) ~ I hope it was fabulous for all of you too (minus the passing out part).

I am recuperating slowly, which means leaving bed only for necessities, and checking e-mail only for short periods of time that my fever is down and my brain is functioning, but today is so much better than yesterday that I just wanted to check in and say that I hope you are all having a great, restful, thankful weekend.

Be back manana (in one form or another).

Be As Well As Possible.

In anticipation

of needing some rest: Happy Black Friday, all!

Happy Turkey Day!

After we built (tore down and rebuilt) a block city today, Lil Girl and I threw our own Thanksgiving Parade. Using all of the little people, birthday cake characters, and happy meal toys from our various childhoods (there's been a kid around here continuously since 1976), we wound up with a Sesame Street float, a Lion King float, a Lil Mermaid float, a bunch of clowns, a Bambi float, about 6 other Disney themed floats and had Woody from Toy Story leading the whole thing. Block City residents really seemed to enjoy, as did she and I. Afterwards, Lil Girl decided to invite every single float, wrangler and character back to the main house for Thanksgiving dinner. Here's hoping that your Thanksgiving has a few less participants, so that you don't have to rebuild your house (again) to fit them all in.

Today is pie day

and I have just two things to say -

1_ Baking pies is a LOT easier with a stove that works. *I will try to take pictures before they get eaten tomorrow.

and

2_I am in need of a hot shower and a warm bed.


Happy Thanksgiving Eve, peoples. Wish you all the best tomorrow.

Dear TV

I have never "wondered who grew my soup*".


On the other hand, thank you, Bravo, for starting the West Wing over from the beginning. :Sigh: I miss the Bartlett White House.

Fox: just so you know, I know that your American Idol previews are going to be better than the actual season of American Idol, so I don't mind that you're playing them already.

Also, bring on the Christmas specials everysinglestationever, because I have a DVR and will watch them next week, when I am feeling the Christmas spirit. Why aren't there any Thanksgiving specials, btw? May I suggest Planes, Trains, & Automobiles? Those Aren't Pillows!"

Carry on.

Sincerely, NTE


* Campbell's Soup commercial;

had a sleepover this weekend

with this boy:



We had a great time, and played enough card games to make up for the weeks since we've been able to play. We played War and Fish and Bullshit (which, for age appropriate reasons, we call I doubt it!) and BlackJack and Poker. This boy is a bluffer, for sure, and I don't know where he gets it from, because I am the one who taught him to play, and I apparently suck at bluffing (at least, that's what my family says). He also likes to go "All IN!" while I prefer to wager discreetly and sneak up on people when I have a pile large enough to knock them out. But we had a lot of fun, regardless of our different playing styles.

At one point he was laughing so hard that he passed gas and, of course, because he's a 9 year old boy, started laughing even harder. When he finally stopped giggling, he said "Excuse me: I must have laughing gas." If you don't think that started another wave of laughter, then you don't know me at all.

Don't forget to check out all the the other MBSM, where Tracey has asked us to share our heart. This boy is certainly a large piece of mine. Happy Thanksgiving to all my (mostly) Monday readers - Hope you have a great week!

Sunday night

came awfully quickly: Hope you had a great weekend, and (if you're in the US), that you've got your Thanksgiving plans in order!

I always get about this far into NaBloPoMo, and wonder what the heck I was thinking: there's sleepovers and Thanksgiving and pies to make; there's birthdays to scrap for and Christmas presents to scout out; there's doctor's appointments and relapses and every single germ in creation headed straight for me. In other words, November is not exactly a stress free month - for any of us.

But then I remember that coercing myself to write everyday reminds me that I have a connection to people who don't just exist within 65 miles of my physical self. It reinforces the idea that there are other people like me, who are just trying to make it through their days, and we're all helping each other out. It forces me to think of something to talk about, allowing for the instances when all I have to talk about is how sucky something has been & promoting instances when glorious things occur. It gives me something to look back on with pride and accomplishment at having met a goal and overcome obstacles.

So here's to another day down, and 9 days to go.

I am home again

(home again, jiggety jog). It was a relatively minor issue, which, as usual turns into something bigger because I am me. Whatever. I am over it. Back home with the heating pads, whatever virus Lil Girl managed to wipe on me (she sneezed into my shirt the other day, instead of her own, and while I know that didn't make me sick, I doubt it made me any better either), and more DVR-ed West Wings, Offices, and last night's Daily Show & Colbert Report... Then I'm going to take the hottest shower ever and zone out. We have a shiny new stove that I get to make pies in next week, and that is happiness making, indeed.

That's my update, What's cooking for you guys?

NaBloPoMo

Just made it... am relegated to the pull out couch of death again, because new stove = gas pipe = smell... back tomorrow!

Stepped in it this time

Today I managed to start a big family brou ha ha, which only reminds me why I try not to talk to people and makes me wish I lived in one of those hibernation caves you hear so much about. (Minus the bears.) Long story short(ish) - my grandmother, uncle and littlest sister weren't going to come for Thanksgiving, only littlest sister (SisterK) didn't know that. When I told her, her response was "Why do they hate happiness?" and then she called them and asked them what was up. 5 phone calls, (at least) 3 sets of hurt feelings, and one "let's not let this shadow the holiday" later, they're coming for Thanksgiving. And they'll be happy (ish) about it!

No, seriously: I have no idea how things went off the rails in regards to that whole discussion, but they went waaaay off the rails, and just blah. I know we are champion avoiders, so it will all be forgotten(ish) and never discussed again, but in the meantime, it's just too much drama. The kind of thing I have labeled (in my head) Llama Drama, because it is just so unnecessary, and everything in my life must somehow be related to a book, even if, in most instances, it's a picture book.

After all the Llama Drama, I just want to never answer the phone (and I wasn't too keen on it before all this), but I will have to, I suppose. In the meantime, I'm going to watch the cast of Nine on Oprah and hope for some rousing musical numbers ("Be Italian happens to be one of my favorites, because it is so, totally my dad).

"And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all"

Yes: this -

WANTED: A partner for richer or poorer and for better or worse and absolutely, positively in sickness and in health. A partner for fishing and French food and beach walks and kayak trips, but also for phone calls from physicians with biopsy results. A guy who knows that while much of marriage is a 50-50 give-and-take, sometimes it’s more like 80-20, and that’s OK, even when the 80-20 phase goes on and on. A man who truly doesn’t care what somebody’s breast looks like after cancer surgery, or at least will never reveal that he’s given it a moment’s thought. A guy who’s got some comfort level with secretions and knows the value of a cool, damp washcloth. A partner who knows to remove the computer mouse from a woman’s hand when she types phrases like “breast cancer death sentence” in a Google search. And, most of all, a partner who will sit in a cancer clinic waiting room and hold hard onto the purse on his lap

Because, also? This -

"What did it feel like, I wondered, to be kissed like that right out in public? Not like some passionate tongue-wrestling thing, just a kiss to declare: We are each other’s. I’d never been kissed like that. No one had declared me his, not for the whole world to see, anyway." - Story Of A Girl

and this

“He wished he knew the name of the gods who’d looked down on him the day he’d met her. If he could stack everything he owned, had done, had accomplished, on one side of a scale, it still wouldn’t out-weight the gift of her.” - Memory In Death

(and, if you want to read more about "Real/Everyday/99%/Omega/Sandwich Heroes" check out this Smart Bitches thread.)

I know these guys exist ~> I'm lucky enough to have some examples in a few friends and family members, so I know it's not too much to wish for; someone who loves you best. (I just worry if it's feasible for me, but I guess everybody does.)

Except for the punching, some pretty good advice.

Just can't get it together again here, people: My Best Shot Monday photo is stuck in my camera, and my energy is nil. So I decided to give you some of the most recent quotes that have caught my attention & go back to the West Wing marathon my DVR so kindly saved for me.

“If exhaustion were a tangible object, something you could point to and say, "Look, there's my tiredness," mine would have it's own orbit. It would glow red in the night sky and be feared by villagers and prophets alike. Virgins, no doubt, would be sacrificed to it.”

From “Looky, Daddy” blog

"The only real way to get at how much real pain a person is in is to ask them and trust them. The danger of not believing people is much greater than the danger of overprescribing opioids. The big challenge we have is educating medical doctors. Politicians are even harder, but medical doctors are also thick as bricks." .

Jeffrey Mogil, PhD; From O Magazine, April 2009

"I ate a lot of widower food: peanut butter sandwiches, cereal, frozen steak burritos. I heated the burritos in the oven and if they didn't come out thoroughly defrosted I said, Hell, what's the difference, and crunched through the frost. The hungry feeling and the lonely feeling merged until it was hard to tell them apart. I stopped cooking. Couldn't stand the idea of it. Who would eat it? Who would notice? Who would care? ... But there's still hunger. The sun goes down and there are quick decisions to make."

Love is a mix tape; Life and loss , One Song at a time by Rob Sheffield

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful.

-- Buddha

The to-read pile is more than just a physical stack of books: it's a tower of ambitions failed, hopes unrealised, good intentions unfulfilled. Worse still, it's a cold hard reminder of mortality. Already, I have intentions to read more books than I can hope to manage in a normal lifetime. How will this pile of books taunt me when I'm 64?"

Perils of the TBR

Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.

- Lemony Snicket

In the Schrute family we believe in a five-fingered intervention. [raises fist] Awareness. Education. Control. Acceptance. And punching.

— Dwight Schrute, The Office

Ah, to be this organized...

Not feeling better today, so please enjoy pictures of bookcases - not ours, unfortunately, as the not feeling better has extended to still not getting the books any further than random piles on the floor - but ones from various tumblrs and whatnot. Bookcases... drool.

Via the blog on the bookshelf




Via FYReading

Via Infinite Butterflies

Check back tomorrow for things that make sense

I dared to venture out of the house last night, and am definitely paying for it today. I am lucky enough to hear things like "You look like you are hungover" without ever getting to experience the being fun (?) of actually drinking. Headaches, dry heaves, body aches, noises that are too noisy, lights that are too bright ~ just my normal recuperation period, basically. It was nice to be out - seeing my sisters while wearing something other than my pajamas; getting bubbles blown at us by the famous (probably only in Cambridge) Bubble Lady; embarrassing SisterK by having the waiters attempt to sing Happy Birthday (wow, they did such a bad job) - but it sucks to have to pay for it. To realize that (most likely due to whatever bug I am still trying to fight off already) the hours out/suffering afterwards ratio is definitely not tipping in my favor. Oh well: what's done is done, and we almost wound up with a leprechaun's jacket, so it was worth it.

Oh, also: I am so glad that you all liked the MILAs ~ I could spend forever reading those! I know they basically show that I am a big geek, since more than half of the ones I save are related to Harry Potter or things like that, but if you spend any time here, you already know that anyways. :)

Average Lives

All of these amusing little anecdotes are recent postings from My Life Is Average (which I have been calling "My Life Is Awesome", simply because it seems much more apt). If you haven't been over there, you should check it out - these are just a few of my favorites lately, but there are about 50 new posts a day, and there's usually 2 or 3 that give me a little chuckle. Enjoy yourself flipping through them... but beware: Time Suck Major!


Today, my liitle sister was playing barbies in her room. When I walked by all I heard was "First, my ninja barbies, we are going to destroy Hannah Montana and her awful music, and then we will take over the world!" I don't know whether to be terrified or extremely proud. MLIA

Today, while in my mother's 2nd grade classroom, I was looking at the bulletin board. It read "Believe in Yourself" and each student had to write one goal they wanted to achieve down. While most kids wrote "i can run faster" or "i can reach my reading goal", one child put down "i can hug a penguin". MLIA

Today, my sister and I turned our yard into the Godric's Hollow cemetery. We made headstones for all the important characters that had died in the Harry Potter books and played music from the Harry Potter soundtracks. Tonight, when I opened my front door to greet some trick-or-treaters, a young Harry Potter was weeping by his parents' gravestone in my front yard. I gave him the rest of the candy. MLIA

Today I dressed up as Gandalf and went to work. I was late. When I walked in my boss said "you're late", to which I replied "a wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." I didn't get in trouble. MLIA.

Today, I was in a large corn maze and began to be bored. To change this, I decided to yell "Marco!" at the top of my lungs. Off in the distance, I heard a single person yell "Polo!" back equally as loud. We continued for an hour and a half until I found her. We now have a date set up for tomorrow. MLIA.

Today, I was was at work (I teach kindergarten) when I noticed a little boy trying to steal a girl's barbie doll. I was about to go break up the argument when the girl yelled "Swiper no swiping!" the boy yelled "OH MAN" and walked off. Thank you Dora for teaching kids proper self defense.

Today, I was walking around school and I noticed a blue paw print taped to the wall. Intrigued, I removed it and looked around for the culprit. A student in a large blue dog costume peered around the corner, put a finger to his lips and promptly disappeared. I have never been more confused and excited in my life. MLIA

Today, it was our Year 12 Assembly, where everyone dresses up and we run the assembly ourselves for the rest of the school. One of my friends dressed up as the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, and during the Principal's speech to us, he yelled out "CHANGE PLACES!!!" 1500 students got up and ran to a different seat, and the Principal continued with his speech and acted nothing happened. MLIA

Today, I realized that the Clapper does not only respond to clapping, it also responds to any exceptionally loud noise. It may be a bit noisy around here, now, but lights come on when I scream 'Lumos!' and that's all that matters. MLIA

Today, during SSR (silent sustained reading), I pulled out a book by Dr. Suess and began to read. Apparently the cute guy next to me was reading over my shoulder, because at the end of the book, he sighed and said to me, "I love happy endings." I'm in love. MLIA

Today, my friends and I were walking down the hall in a straight line across when one of my friends stopped and rearranged the order we were walking in. I didn't realize what he was doing until I noticed that our shirts were now in rainbow order. We're best friends for this reason. MLIA.



These are SO my people.

Well, today is Thursday (as opposed to Tuesday, when I just thought it was), but I don't get my four days off: we have Lil Girl tonight for a sleepover (her first in a very long time) because her other grandmother has to have day surgery tomorrow, and we're helping out. Of course, I'm also supposed to go out to dinner for SisterK's birthday, so we'll see how that goes. For tonight though, we've got a movie to watch, some mashed potatoes boiling, and Lil Girl is going to have her first bubble bath at the new house: sounds good to me.

(And then later, I'll have The Office to watch< so that's awesome too. )

Thank You

Last year on Veteran's Day, I posted a picture of my father , circa 1980 something, during one of his many tours of duty. He was in the United States Navy from 1978-1993 (? on the ending date), and it's one of my favorite pictures of him, even though I don't have any idea when/where he is in the picture. I was lucky enough to get the picture from three of his on-ship buddies when we met with them a few years back, & they couldn't remember where they might have been (although the consensus was that it was probably the Mediterranean). My father passed away 10 years ago, and our relationship was incredibly complex. But those men remembered him, and thought well enough of him to try to look him up 15-20 years after they had served together. They thought well enough of him to contact my brother, my sister and I and to arrange a meeting with us, after they found out he had died. They brought us pictures and stories and I will always appreciate them for doing it, because so many of my happy memories of my daddy have long been overshadowed by some of his more atrocious behavior during his last years on earth. Regardless of all that, though, I do know that he served his country well and that he worked diligently for many of his years in the service.

I have always been proud to be a sailor's daughter, even when I wasn't proud of the sailor himself. I have pictures of his burial at sea, a few pictures of him in his uniform, but instead I'm going to choose another picture that his friends gave us when we met them. Here he is in the tiny little quarters on ship, being a goof:



My family has a long history of service, actually: My Nana's father was in the Navy, and served during World War I aboard the USS Mt Vernon. Originally a seized German ship, the Mt Vernon was torpedoed by the Germans in September of 1918, while James (my great-grandfather) was serving. Although luckily uninjured, he was sent back to the US following the attack, and served at a Naval Hospital (which is, coincidentally, right around the corner from the new house) near Boston until he was discharged. Here is a photo of the ship's crew I found online - He's in there somewhere:



And here he is up close, in uniform:



My other maternal great-grandfather, (my grandfather's father) also served during what his discharge papers call "The World War" as a Wireman and a Private in the United States Army from 1917-1919. (Unfortunately I don't have any photos of him in his uniform, and actually only two or three pictures of him at all.) And his son, my mother's father, my Papa, served in the Army during WWII: All I know about his service is that he was a driver in a convoy going up the narrow mountain roads (in Northern Africa, maybe?) and the truck in front of him was hit, and drove right over the edge of the mountain. When he came back from the war, he never drove again. Here he is at the very end of the chow line (and not nearly as excited as some of his fellow troops):

On my father's side, three of his brothers served in various armed forces; all of my great-uncles and two of my great-aunts served during WWII (my Grandfather was the only child (of 7) who could not); Both of my Grandmother's brothers fought during the Battle of the Bulge - One of her brothers was a medic, and later told her that his biggest fear was that he would be running through the battlefield and be called to a soldier only to see it was his brother - thankfully that did not happen, and they both made it back safely; And the oldest American Veteran in my family (that I am aware of) was my great-great-Grandfather - my Grandmother's grandfather - who was killed in a flash flood after enlisting in the Union Army.

I'm lucky enough now that none of my uncles, aunts or cousins are serving any longer, but I can remember how scared I was during the first Gulf War, knowing that my father was over there serving. I can specifically remember flipping off the Nintendo one afternoon and CNN was on, and they were showing the live bombings, and I was frozen in fear, worrying that one of those fighting might have been my father, and that something horrible could happen to him. I cannot explain how much gratitude I have for those who are serving, and for their families. Today and always: Thank you.

It is Tuesday,

and all day long I've been thinking it's Thursday. Both are Lil Girl days, which can explain some of the confusion, but one comes later in the week, meaning that I have the possibility of four days off in a row. Today is not that day. Today is Tuesday, which means I have only tomorrow off, if I am lucky, and that does not seem like enough for me, right about now. Actually, right about now, I would like to take a 12 hour nap, but since it is not Tuesday circa 1998, that is so not going to happen. My fatigue lately (and, as always, I have to laugh at the utter uselessness of a word like "fatigue" to describe the exhaustion I am suffering from) is irrefutable, and I spend a lot of my time afraid that I might be sliding backwards into the hell of previous years. The times where I couldn't be around other people at all, because their presence - their noise, their smells, their movement - made me sicker. The times where I would spend weeks and months in bed, just unable to sit up at all, unable to roll over or drag myself to the bathroom. I know I am not there yet, but there are just more and more days when I can not accomplish anything - where turning on the computer takes up my allotted energy resource for the day, and then I have to wait 6 hours until I can write anything; where craving and caring and wishing for an extra ounce of oomph are the only things I manage to cross off my to do list; where trying to figure out what the hell Colbert is talking about is beyond me. Physical and mental 'fatigue' are just normal states for me, my new normal, and I hate it when any little thing gets worse, and I have to try to adjust every other damn thing. Laying around without stretching or moving at all makes the pain worse, but I don't have any stamina for moving or stretching. Not eating throws off my pill schedule, which can make the dizziness, or the pain, or the vertigo worse, but I need to have enough energy to make a food. To eat a food. To not throw up a food.

I feel ridiculous for even mentioning it right now, because it's only like a minuscule worsening of things: I still got a bunch of stuff accomplished this weekend, I watched Lil Girl today and made slice and bake cookies - I know it is not at horrible, scary levels yet. It's just that every little thing, every tiny slip backwards, reminds me that I am not in control of my body (not really, anyways), that even if I do every.single.thing. I know how to do to manage my diseases and prevent worsening, things can still happen. I can get viruses and my tonsils can swell up and prevent me from breathing. Thirteen consecutive nights without sleep can cause me to fall and bang my face on the corner of something hard, and my POTS gets worse. I can just do everything right, and still wind up sicker. And that is a bitter pill to swallow, no matter when I am swallowing it. (And then, I also realize that this is true for everybody, and I think I should get over myself. Bah. )

This is a picture of SisterK, from earlier this year, back when I was spending the summer at Grandmother's house. We were corrupting our nephew teaching Youngest Nephew to play poker using pretzel sticks and marshmallows. We had a ball that day, not only because Youngest Nephew rocks at poker and decimated SisterK's snack pile (see photo of the devastation below), but also because SisterK is usually phenomenally busy, and so having some family time was pretty amazing. (Just as an example of how busy she is, the day after I took this photo, she flew to San Fransisco for 4 days, then Colombia for 3 weeks. After that she taught at an extremely intense private summer school program, until the first weekend of September, when she went back for her Junior (!) year at Harvard. Like I said: very busy.) Today is SisterK's 21st birthday, and so MBSM is this shot of her, rocking the mini pretzel sticks, being her awesome self. (The completely decimated photo is just a little bonus, because it makes me laugh that a 9 year old, playing his first game of poker, can out-bluff my worldly baby sister.)


Have a great week, everybody!

Intimidation

That is the inside of my computer, which I never want to have to see again. The computer is currently running fine - cool, even, for the first time in forever. I am going to just keep my fingers crossed (not while typing) that we have cleared everything up, and it will all be fine and dandy. The End. No more NaBloPoMo posts about the state of my computer, thank you very much. I am sure you all agree.

Just to prove

that all sorts of electric equipment hates my guts, today, the carbon monoxide detector went off. Repeatedly, and ear-splittingly. (It is much louder than even the smoke detector: Who knew?) And then it told me we were all dying because the CO was at 900 ppm. A good number is less than 35. So we had to call the fire department, and they told us that it was just malfunctioning, because their meters had it at 0-2.

On the plus side, my dad and I dismantled my computer, and then put it back together. and now it's working, and I am pretending that it will continue to do so. There was a hunk of dust trapped between the fan and the vent, and of course, to get to it I had to take EVERY SINGLE SCREW out, and remove the keyboard and the entire back, and the motherboard. I am not brave, and doing these things made me want to cry, but I figured I couldn't be any worse off. And now, my lap is not catching on fire as I type, and the computer is staying on. These are good things.

Tomorrow, maybe we'll replace the stove - the one that came with the new house - because the electrical system in it doesn't work - banana bread at 350? Normally is supposed to take an hour. I baked for 3.5 hours the other day, and it was still raw-ish in the middle. It beeps, randomly, all night long. Of course, I am the only one on this floor, so it doesn't bother anybody but me. Awesome sauce.

Sorry guys: Another measly paragraph of a post today, since the computer has cut me down to 6 minutes at a go, and I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get the fan out, only to find out that I have to go from the keyboard down, instead of the bottom up. Basically, they make it as ridiculously difficult as possible, so that you don't really have much of a choice but to take it to somebody to get it fixed. But - if at all possible - I am not going to spend $200 for the guy to tell me there's some dust or hair trapped in the fan. I'm going to have to ask for help, which is a complicated issue for me. It is something that I absolutely avoid as much as is humanly possible, because I feel like I ask for too much help that I don't have a choice in, health wise. It's like I can't ask for anything else, because I've used up my share of goodwill or that because I can't contribute as much as I would like to, I can't then turn around and ask for help. It's just one of my issues, and I'm going to have to suck it up here, because I definitely can't do it on my own. I didn't even think I'd get this up, but I asked my sister for her laptop, and here I am.

I'll be back tomorrow, hopefully. I'm not going to stress of NaBloPoMo, though: It's not a huge deal, and I'm just going to do what I can.

Happy Doc Brown Day!

Now go be a Genius; just try to do it without banging your head on the toilet.

(About the shutting down -> I think it's the overheating thing again - the underside of the laptop is scalding hot, and I don't hear the little fan thing going round and round the way it should. That's what I get for saying that my computer problems weren't that serious. Now I have to figure out if it's worth paying to get it fixed or not. Sigh.)

Of course,

after yesterday's post, about how my computer was fine, it shut down, unexpectedly (and for no. good. reason.) twice today. So instead of the long rambling post I was working on, you're going to get this (2?3?5?) sentences paragraph that I am hustling out to you before the whole thing collapses again. I am hoping it just got overheated... that happens sometimes, and maybe that's what it was. But I can't push my luck here, as far as NaBloPoMo goes.

Hip Hip... Boo.

My poor, 4.5 year old computer has been running so obscenely slow lately, and I didn't exactly know why. Ok: That's not entirely true... I did know that there were a lot of pictures on here. When I packed up all my stuff in April (and still have yet to unpack a good 3/4 of it), I loaded a bunch of pictures on here beforehand.. a lot as in, about 20 years worth of scanned pictures, to share with Grandmother. And since then, I've taken about 1500 more (a lot of them horribly atrocious, but I don't delete. WHY don't I delete? I have no idea.) Usually, I upload them to my computer, then onto a DVD & my back up drive, and then erase them off the main drive. But lately, between feeling like crap, and having a million of things that I have to do (like unpack that remaining 3/4 of a life; start/finish people's birthday presents/christening presents from 2 years ago, etc), the backing up of something that is already sort of done has just not happened.

This picture is a screenshot breakdown of my computer files, and I think it does a pretty good job of showing why my computer is running so slowly: All that blue? Those are pictures. They take up an outrageously large portion of my hard drive, (87.3 GB out of 1 MB - Full of pictures) and it's a wonder I can get anything accomplished at all on here. The next largest chunk of color - those reds? That's my music library. Which also needs intense whittling.

I am not sure if I am glad about this news or not: On the one hand, I had been thinking I would have to buy a new computer soon, because it takes me 45 minutes to get Firefox to load and makes me want to cry. So realizing that all I really need to do is sit my butt down and get some stuff deleted is great, because I can't really afford a new computer. But it also kind of sucks because A) I don't want to do a lot of boring erasing and B) I would, in fact, like a new computer. But I am also very cheap/poor, and I know I won't buy it if it can be put off. Which, apparently, if I actually do the work, it can be.

So hooray for figuring out what the hell is wrong, but boo for actually having to fix it, basically.

Halloween Best Shots

I'm assuming that the majority of today's MBSM will be Halloween related, and I am so excited ~ I love to see all the costumes!

As for our Halloween, Lil Girl and Youngest Nephew came over early and spent the day hanging out with us... I miss spending time with Youngest Nephew now that school has started back up, and was so glad to see him. His sister was in a pretty nasty mood for part of the day (Sharing; what's that? Standing still so that Auntie can get a good picture: Que es esta?), and nobody understood my costume at all (Oracle; but nobody knows who the heck she is), but the majority of the day went well, nonetheless.




Youngest Nephew wasn't feeling particularly inspired this year, and wore his Army man costume from last year (and the year before), but with additional weaponry (yippee). Lil Girl was going to be a cat; then she wanted to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (because it came with a little stuffed dog), but while we were at the store, she saw this Dora the Explorer costume and decided she had to be Dora - because of Backpack (who she calls "Pack Back") - Lil Girl is all about the accessories. (There were a lot of comments in our family, about her being a little blond Dora, but I thought she looked adorable... I do wonder how many people she had to explain the costume to, though.)

We had more trick or treaters this year, in our new house, than I've had in the past 5 years at the old house, and were lucky enough that we had a bunch of older candy hiding in the cupboard, or else we would have run out of candy before 7 o'clock.

Now I'm off to see what everybody else did this weekend!

It's November...

And we all know what that means: It's NaBloPoMo again!

It's time for an overflow in Google Readers, an influx of random postings, an avalanche of "what the hell do I write now"s!

I'm actually excited to be participating in my fourth annual NaBloPoMo, because I have a million half-posts which have been brewing in my brain (and in the draft folder) for too long, and for the sake of actually finishing them, having a deadline is probably a good thing. Which means you'll finally get my post on the new XMRV findings, a few posts about ableism that I've been trying to hammer out the details on, some of my thoughts on the blogosphere, more than a couple of posts with some pictures, and probably a ton of quotes, because that's the kind of mood I've been in lately.

And I'm going to do my best to comment (at least) once a day too, this month, giving myself a new goal to meet. I feel like I've been reading so many good posts, and then clicking away without saying anything. Mostly because it feels like all I have to say is "Me too" or "Totally THIS.", and those feel inadequate to me. But following a recent discussion with a fellow blogger, I realize that when I get those comments, they mean the world to me, so leaving them is worthwhile, even if it doesn't feel like it.

So there we go: Two goals, thirty days, and a blogger who feels like setting goals might be akin to tempting fate, but is going to do it anyways.

Deep breaths, everybody; deep breaths.

"Has anybody seen my tambourine?"

Tim Curry is Halloween.

A lot of people have Halloween traditions that revolve around The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but I don't think I've ever even seen the whole thing. For me, Tim Curry has some films in his reperitoire that are quite a bit scarier:

Between It, which basically ruined my sister's childhood & ability to go to birthday parties without melting down (and which, sorry SisterJ, they are remaking :yay!) and my favorite nonsensical Halloween 80's throwback treat, The Worst Witch, there is plenty of proof that Tim Curry is an excellent actor, appropriately cheesy, and just a creepy, creepy guy.

Evidence: He hates orphans; he wanted the rainforest destroyed; he ruined the word "poppet" for me; he plotted to kill a king; and he did it all with a smarmy, oil-slick sneer. He can be funny, could be charming - No: he is charming - but at the same time, you can't kind of tell he wants to rip you to pieces as soon as you aren't paying enough attention.
This is a guy who just can't help it: He's creepy in two Christmas movies... and a Muppet movie, for goodness sake. So here's a little Tim Curry to get you in the Halloween Spirit:

15 years and counting...

I turned 30 earlier this year, and, in the months leading up to that day, I was getting a whole lot of "Is turning thirty going to bother you?" "Do you think you're going to freak out?" "Does being 30 make you feel OLD?" type questions. I didn't think 30 was anything to freak out over, and told people so, even if I don't think of the number as having any actual relation to my life. (If you're going by how I feel I might as well be 97 right now, physically, and about 12, on a good day, emotionally.) But there is something about turning thirty that I knew was going to really mess me up, and that is that it marks a different sort of milestone for me: I have now been sick longer than I have been ill.

The last day I remember being well was October 20, 1994: Fifteen years ago. I have now been living with chronic illness for exactly 1/2 of my life. And that is a heavy, heavy thing.

It shouldn't be, probably: It's certainly no surprise, at this point, to realize that my illnesses aren't going anywhere. For the first few months, and even the first couple of years, there was the constant thought that "I could wake up better tomorrow" just as suddenly as I had woken up devastatingly ill that first morning. As time went by, and test after test would come back screwed up (but not treatable) and doctor after doctor stopped treating anything except the active infections (rather than the underlying whatever-the-hell-is-causing-this), it got harder and harder to believe that one day I'd just wake up better. One thing snowballed into another, relapse ran into relapse, sleep problems followed pain problems followed breathing problems followed energy problems, and the cycle just seemed inescapable. (It still seems pretty inescapable.)

And to know that there is no end in sight, that these 15 years are probably just the beginning of a really long haul (if I am lucky), that's a hard pill to swallow as well.

But here's another thing I've been thinking about: There were also numerous times where I figured, "I'm just going to die from this... I can't survive this time." (I still have those times, too.) And if I look at it that way, if I look at the past fifteen years and think - "Well, I've survived this for half my life. I've coped as best I could, and survived a lot of things I didn't think it was possible to survive. And I am still here" - then it's not quite as hard to swallow, I think. Seeing myself as a survivor, rather than a sufferer is one of the many distinctions about my identity I have had to make over the years, and it's one of the hardest to hold on to.

Here's the thing, I'm a woman with a disability: I have now been disabled half my life, and I am so proud of the ways in which I have met the challenges of my disability, in the ways I've cobbled together an identity from the bits and pieces of myself that were left over and the new ones I discovered along the way. In that way, I figure that I am no different from anybody else: Everyone - disabled or temporarily able bodied - spends those 15 years of their life (from 15 -30) trying to figure out who they are, who they want to be, and how to live in a way that is best for them.

Life experiences change who we are, and being ill has certainly changed who I am - and not in a completely negative way. But still, when October comes, I remember the part of me that I lost - the part of me died 15 years ago: the dancer who could be touched without crying, who had energy to spare after walking 5 miles, who thought she was going to be a million things, but none of them included this - and so I'm still mourning that person that I could've been, that I maybe should have been, but, at the same time I'm also incredibly proud of the woman I am turning out to be. Does this make sense to anybody but me?

Basically, as I came up to this Sick-a-versary, I was more conflicted than I've been in years past - it feels like both a solemn occasion, because of all that I've lost, and a cause for celebration, because I am Still. Here.

(I've been working on this post for a week, and it still doesn't feel like it explains exactly how I am feeling, but I suppose this is the closest I am going to get, for now. I hope it makes sense to some of you.)

The End

Final Tally!

Title of book(s) read since last update: The Areas of My Expertise
Number of books read since you started: 8 whole and two halves (of different books)
Pages read since last update:74
Running total of pages read since you started: 2282 + 74 = 2356
Amount of time spent reading since last update: 87 minutes
Running total of time spent reading since you started: 1269 + 87 = 1356 = 22.6 hours/24!
Mini-challenges completed: 8
Other participants you’ve visited: Around 24
Prize you’ve won: 1 ! T