Laugh, Cry or Die

Told you how the BFF "B" had a good laugh at my expense yesterday. I'm pretty sure she read the  post (probably to make sure I put in the INXS song) because she called me back to see if I was okay. We ended up talking about some of the crazy crap we went through during all those years at the clearance hub.

B started at the hub when I was already about 4 years in. She was very smart and quick on her feet so, of course, she promoted up fast. By the time she and I were working together, things were so crazy there that stuff could change from one day to the next. B got nervous when Treasury made us ramp up and automate a bunch of tasks. We literally went from handwriting and having entries keyed in to getting them into the data system as soon as they came off the planes. This is just before we got to the point of pre-clearing all the Hong Kong freight and most of the Japan stuff. Pre-clearance required so much direct contact with Customs and was so nerve-wracking that our GM rotated people through the job. If you got the assignment, you were stuck for a two-week rotation. It was sort of okay if you got along with the guys in Customs, but if even one of them didn't like you, you'd be miserable. B got added to the group of us who did pre-clearance. That was because she didn't panic easy under pressure. Good, right? Yep, except for some unknown reason, one of the main Customs officials just hated her. He didn't like her from the minute he met her. Our GM noticed and offered B an easy out of the assignment, no penalty, but she wasn't backing down. Good for her. Of course, she was all sick to her stomach at the thought of screwing up any little tiny thing.

Another guy and I had done the rotations long enough that nothing really fazed us. Most of the Customs guys were cool with us, and the hard-ass that gave B a hard time was just mildly rude to us We - me and the other guy - decided to pep-talk B through her first rotation. We told her how to just keep a polite but blank face and how to imagine "Scary Guy" as a Barney Fife character just to keep herself steady. She survived. She made a few mistakes - one of them cost our brokerage a huge fine, but, hey, she never made that same mistake.

Later on, she told me and our other co-worker that she'd made it through every single challenge at the hub by using a sense of humor. We ended up being a little crew of pranksters. We pranked each other mostly, but if we really liked someone, we'd prank them. When we worked night shift in the winters, we would steal someone's keys and go move their car. When they got ready to leave work, they'd think they had missed a snow-removal notice from Maintenance and had their car towed. Once we went so far as to dismantle someone's desk so that it just collapsed when they sat down and went to pull their chair in close. My favorite prank was when we had this one co-worker who always came back late from lunches. We worked nights and there were only about 20 of us present on the Broker side. We really depended on each other to be on time. To teach this person a lesson, we just weren't there when they got back from lunch one night. Security was in on it with us. When the person went all over the building looking for us, Security told them that there had been an evacuation and employees had been sent home at end of the last lunch break. Actually, we were all just hiding out in one of the Freight side offices for a few minutes.

B said that she probably would not have lasted so long at the hub if it hadn't been for the fun we managed to have. I don't think I would have lasted either. It was too stressful otherwise.

Last night, she and were walking that little path of our memories. B remembers almost everything except the name of that Customs guy who gave her such a hard time. I think his name was Stan, but I'm not sure. Anyway, just talking about some of those days made us remember a lot of the funny stuff that happened.

One time, one of our friends damn near slid down half the stairs that ran along one of the ramps. One minute she was standing there, watching one of the planes being loaded, the next, she slipped and was literally just sliding down those metal steps. It was like something out of Merrie Melodies. That was so damn hilarious that just thinking of it makes me and B crack up right now. Not that we are cruel or anything. The chick turned out to be okay, but they damn near had to shut down the hub because of the whole thing. Another time, I got busted by security cameras putting on pantyhose in my car. Had ripped my hose on the way to work with no time to change. Grabbed an extra pair and when I got to work, I just did the whole shimmy-shimmy change-over in the car. Got inside and had a bunch of smart-ass guards applauding my antics. That was so embarrassing.

Another time, when I became a Trainer, I was sick with a virus or something that we called the "Creeping Crud" at the same time that I had a huge class session going. The class was for managers and supervisors from both freight and broker sides so re-scheduling would have been a nightmare. I also had reps from FDA and Fish and Wildlife sitting in. The whole thing was 10 or 12 days or something and just so tightly scheduled that there was no way out. The other trainer was in Newark doing training. Okay. I go ahead with the class and made it almost all the way through without dying. I'd get up around 5am, go in and set up PCs and materials and be ready for those guys at 7. Lunch at around noon, I'd go in the office and lay on the floor and just want to die in peace. By the time three o'clock came, I'd revive long enough to drive home and just go to bed, watch TV and pass out to sleep between coughing fits. It all worked out until the last three or four days. I just didn't think I was going to make it. I didn't have a regular doctor then, but our training office was in Spenard and just around the corner there was a clinic. I had gone there a couple of times for minor stuff, so I went over to see what they could do for my misery. I can't remember exactly what kind of bug I had, but the doctor gave me antibiotics and some cough syrup with codeine in it. Great. The cough syrup let me get a good night sleep and I thought I'd be better at work. Let me tell you something about me and narcotics. Apparently, as with liquor, I'm a lightweight. The cough syrup that I took at around 6 or 7 at night was still in my system all the next day. I barely managed to stay awake through class. Then, to top it all off, I started getting nauseous. I'd do 10 or 15 minutes of class and go to the bathroom to throw up. Still not as bad as it got. As bad as it got is when I just vomited all over the floor in the middle of the class. I don't know where it came from. There was no warning heave or anything. It was a mess. We all took a break while Janitorial came in and cleaned things up. I am to this very day SO proud of myself. I bulldozed my way through to the end of that class. I think it was a month later that I had my one and only bout with pneumonia. About a month after that,  fractured a rib sneezing... Crazy. One lady from Customs that I kept in touch with for years after would mention that class every time we ran into each other.

On a lighter side, B remembered the time that she spent half a shift at work with a big old blue or pink Conair hot curler in the back of her head. This is a woman who was always turned out so nice for work. She said that she kept feeling weight against her back... The really messed up thing - and this tells you something about what bitches we women can be - is that it was a guy who told her when he spotted the curler. Now, you know that women check each other out head to freaking toe. You know that a woman saw that curler and just thought, "Heh heh."

One time when I just knew I was cute to death,  I had to go up where the pilots's lounge was. That hardly ever happened and I can't remember if I had a legitimate reason to go there or what. At any rate, of course, we all loved those guys in their sexy uniforms. Face it, a guy can look like Flavor Flav, but stick him in an outfit with epaulets and a hat... Boom! Sex-ay, right? Anyway, I get myself to the area and I guess, did what I was there to do. I end up passing the lounge just right before I hear some of the pilots coming out and down the hall behind me. Let me tell you something, I had on this cute outfit that I wore so much that it was dang near my signature. It was a cropped duster jacket/short skirt suit that at least covered my butt. Mostly. (The company eventually banned the style saying we needed to look like professionals and not the cast of "Knots Landing." Damn, I'm old!) I know I had on stilt-heels because that's all I ever wore then. And I am working that walk. When you are young, thin and cute, you walk like you own the idea of "hot." Yeah, well, I did my thing and did it well until I got to the elevators and the pilots had gone on their way. When I get back to the Broker floor, I stop in the ladies room. I damn near wanted to die when I see in the mirror that I've been tramping around with my hem tucked under my waistband, leaving my behind just hanging all out. Oh. My. Damn. Really? If I hadn't been so busy being "hot," I might have felt a breeze or something.

Yeah. That is one of B's favorite stories. The other one has to do with the time I drug half a roll of toilet tissue from the bathroom, down the hall and into the Admin office...

I'm not the only one who did stupid and embarrassing stuff. One time this really sweet guy named Evander had a super-cringe moment. He was one of the nicest guys I'd ever met (B remembers because she told me last night that she had a mild crush on him) and he was really shy. He worked in our Tech department doing whatever Tech guys do. ~shrug~ Evander had a crush on our GM's executive assistant. I can't think of her name now, but I know she was really nice. Smart. She was going to be leaving for college to study something amazing like molecular physics or something I can barely spell. Anyway, Evander had crushed on her for forever, and we all could tell she kind of crushed back. But you can't hem and haw and make goo-goo eyes forever when one of you is planning to go away. Finally, I guess Evander got the nerve to say something to this girl when a bunch of us were in the GM's office officially for a meeting/unofficially killing time at the end of a really long day. The GM always kept a really nice coffee and dessert table ready. At some point Evander and this girl were standing there together and you could just see he was going to go for it and say something. The only problem is, poor Evander had a booger about to fall out of his nose. Oh,  damn, right? I think it was my friend V who noticed and started trying to throw hand signals or gang signs or something to warn Evander. Long story probably not short enough: The booger didn't fall, but I guess it was a turn off. Those two coulda-beens never happened. The girl went away without hooking up with Evander.  If that was because of the booger, well, too bad for her. She and Evander could have ended up having a funny story to tell their kids. Well, maybe they could have changed the part about the booger to something else. (I wonder what the heck ever happened to Evander?)

And if you think having a booger on your face is embarrassing, I once farted in a meeting. Totally wanted to breathe my last and just go on to Heaven from that very spot. It wasn't a stinky fart or anything, but - oh, horror, horror, nightmare was it kind of loud. B was in that meeting. At the time, she reassured me that it wasn't that loud and that probably no one noticed. Last night, that lying shit told me that it had sounded like a car backfiring. (Notice how convenient her memory is... ) It's not like I was raised with no home-training; it's that I had been a little sick that week. I had been burping and passing gas for a couple of days. Let me tell you something about myself. I embarrass easily. I was taught that it is just not ladylike to do certain things outside the bathroom - such blow your nose, "poot" (as we called farting) or belch really loud. When we were kids, if me or my sister or brothers did any of this in public, our parents would look at us as if we'd signed a pact with Satan and say, "Have you gone and lost your manners?" ("Losing your manners" is also another way to say "farted.") Can you imagine how hard it was for me not to run out of that meeting, jump in my car and just drive off to somewhere like, say, Mars? Thank goodness for the politeness of other people. I got a look or two, but no one broke out laughing. Everyone mostly pretended like nothing happened. Oh, the shame! LOL (I almost didn't even put that story in here, except for my thing about being so open in this blog.)

B did tell me that she recently broke wind in public. She said she was at the store and thought she was alone on an aisle. Said her tummy had been bothering her so she just cut loose to get some relief. Of course, as soon as she did, here come a couple of people. She said they walked right into that cloud of funk. I asked how she handled it and she said she looked right at one of the people and made a can-you-believe-someone-did-that? face. That's my friend, B!

Wow. I still cannot believe I put some of this stuff in here. B and I had such a good time laughing about all of this though. Sometimes it's just good not to take yourself so seriously, I guess.

I think it was an auntie of mine who once told me about life's little embarrassments. "You laugh, cry or die." I guess we should just learn to laugh at it all.

Peace
--Free

Mixed Bag Monday

(Don't ask what is going on with the HTML editor in Blogger the last couple days, 'cause I have no idea. As Stevie Winwood says, just "Roll with it, baby.")

Wow. I just had about 2 hours of zone out time. Tried doing some meditating to get my focus off this damn pain in my side. I know that I should probably tell my doctor about it, but it's like I'm always whining, crying, complaining and being such a pain in his ass. And, yes, I know how stupid that sounds because that's kind of what doctors are for, but... I'm pretty sure that I have just wrenched my back or something. This is going to get better if I stop forgetting and moving the wrong way.

Anyway, like I said, I have been kind of meditating. Well, I don't know if it's meditating or just letting myself get really chill for a while. I just sat for a while, put on some Coltrane and (of all things) Patti Austen and, well, just let stuff not root in my mind. That was kind of nice. I think too much all the time. Of course, one problem with the meditating (or Trudy-ating) that I was doing is that all those thoughts that I didn't let take root at the moment are bouncing back to me now. I can't remember any of them very clearly, but mostly what came to mind (and that I remember) were pieces of things I've heard or read. Frustrating because of my memory problems. I had to hunt and search to find them for this post:

“Imagine a man who stands before a mirror; a stone strikes it, and it falls to ruin all in an instant. And the man learns that he is himself, and not the mirrored man he had believed himself to be.” 

That's one I have tried to recall a lot lately. (I didn't know it was from someone named Gene Wolfe. I think it's one I just heard mentioned in a conversation with a friend -?) But, like I said, it's bounced in and out of my head thousands of times recently. Maybe because I feel that the Sarcoidosis has been my stone. I guess I am trying so hard now to keep in mind that I am myself. I have to hold on to that.

Then I was thinking of an old boyfriend that had called me the other day. So hilarious to me that I never did anything but sleep next to him in a bed (we didn't ever go past that in our feelings for each other). He screwed around with everybody in the world, but told me that I was the woman he just liked being close to. Good thing. No telling what kind of infectious shit he had brewing in his drawers... Once when we were just laying around his house watching something stupid on TV like old "Bewitched" re-runs or something, he read parts of "Lady Chatterley's Lover" to me. Shocked hell out of me when he read out “We fucked a flame into being." Shut the damn door! I've read that book. I read that book at least 5 times in my life. Why don't I remember that being in there. It is though. And this pointed out to me by a man who never went past sleeping with his hand on my hip? Damn.

Of course, I am remembering that guy, (call him "V") and wondering what it says about me that we never made love. I didn't have the nerve to ask him when we talked recently because it just couldn't be that kind of conversation. He's married and so incredibly happy that I wanted to remind him to always hang on to this woman (He's had a lot of hurt in the heart.) I don't know who the lady is, but I wish I could tell her what I heard in V's voice when he said her name. That man is down for her. What's really eating at me now that I am really thinking about all this is that V isn't the only man I had that kind of relationship with.  Never really thought about it until now, but what the hell is wrong with me?

I had such a great friendship with "D" for about 3 years before we just kind of starting looking differently at each other. He was the first one of us to get sent over to Hong Kong when we tried upping the success of brokerage clearance. I was his Anchorage liason and we'd email back and forth and have daily nervous breakdowns over some shit like Customs holding up important freight that we had pre-cleared. Those emails were strictly business, but we set up a system of covering our asses with personal emails (because of the time difference and our exhaustion). Those mails started getting personal - I guess because distance equals safety and boldness and - whatever. D was in Hong Kong for about two months and when he got back it was close to my birthday. He gave me a beautiful pearl necklace that I have to this day. We started hanging out at his house. I stayed over later and later, and pretty soon I was spending the night. We'd just fall asleep across his bed. It was nice. No pressure, no shame, no sin. We'd just hold hands and talk, then go to sleep. It was incredibly intense and intimate in a way that sex just cannot be.  I'd wake up with breath that could detonate bombs and he'd still keep a straight face while giving me a Good Morning peck. Funniest thing is that we never brought that shit to work. We'd be complete business at the office. Everyone just assumed we were really good friends. I guess we were. (I stayed friends with him, though we stopped the sleepovers. When I got married, he stopped calling me. I saw him a couple years ago in Walmart and we hugged, did a quick life catch-up chat, traded contact info, but - nothing. I think I hurt him by getting married.)Yeah, so. I had these things on my mind after the little chill-out session.

After I wrote this post, I called one of the BFFs (B) because I felt just a little depressed by it all. My dumb ass forgot that I'd never told her about my thing with D. When I got through being all dramatically upset (I'm such a drama queen), I was waiting for B's usual reassurances. Bitch just about broke a rib laughing! She had known about V but not D and, for some reason, this just rocked her world...

Okay, B still made me feel better. Probably because her laughter is absolutely contagious. Probably because I can finally stop being embarrassed about the whole thing.  B says that sometimes, even guys just need a safe place to be loved. She says that I was that safe place for V and D. (I notice that she doesn't seem to mind that the guys she's cared for have just found her too hot for all that cuddling-only crap!) Heffa.

Anyway, while we were yakking, she asked what it was I was listening too. I told her and she insists I find a YouTube version to add to this post. All my good friends know that I am into words and music. If one doesn't soothe, release or fix life, the other will. So, my gal B wants the music here?

Okay then.

Musical Flashback

Need I say anything? Nope.

Musical Flashback

I've always loved this song. Always thought it was so soft and sweet. Even when a good friend tried to ruin it for me by hinting that Bette wasn't singing about dancing at all.

Just a sweet, nice and easy listen.

I couldn't find a video with the original. In this one she kind of vamps it up a bit, but that's Bette for you!

Predni- bitch..

I always talk about the prednisone and the predni-pounds it puts on me, but, man, the attitude crap is horrible! I have been a complete and total bitch to almost everyone this weekend.

That I have friends left & family still claiming me is a testament to the power of love. Theirs for me.

Every day I try to get a photo of my nephew DJ. We're planning to do a video for his Christening in July. Well, usually, he sees me coming with the camera (or just sees coming, because he loves me) and I get a big, wonderful grin or giggle or both. Not this morning. See, yesterday (I think it happened yesterday), I got so frustrated by not being able to get out and away by myself that I went on a little spree of ugliness. I'm talking about snapping at everyone and just being a real snot. During one of my moments, I happened to pass DJ and did not smile or speak to him. Oh shit.

This is the look I got from Deej when I tried taking a good pic a while ago:

You notice that he is not even looking my way. He is looking at the basketball game his dad has on TV. He's not sad or anything, he is just not the least bit interested in me. I think that is DJ-mode for Two Can Play That Nasty Mood...

So. Of course, my feelings were hurt. I spent the next few minutes pulling out all the pet names I have for him. I made faces, I clapped my hands - basically I made a fool of myself. Like I said, it took a minute. Finally I brought out the big guns and used my/his favorite name: Sugar Snickle.

Magic!

We're are back in love. Everything's gonna be all right!

Now, if only it was so easy to make up with the big people...

I am going to be making some phone calls and sending texts for a while. Have to make up for being a predni-bitch.

Peace
--Free

Push-Push

Seems like this is going to be quite the summer.

Went to the doctor today about the latest Sarc swing and this freaking dizziness. (Learned that riding in a vehicle makes the dizziness much worse!) Not sure what is causing what's happening, but I am reassured that my doctors are on it. I have to say once again just how lucky I was to get the right doctors at the right time. I have often wondered what would have happened to me if I had been away from home and people who care about me. I have seriously thought that had I still been with Tim or in Texas, that I would probably be dead. Scary.

I was going to post about the whole Sarc thing and how it's making me feel (scared, crazy, confused, worried....), but decided to stay positive and upbeat. Might as well start letting my mood match the wonderful weather. So, instead of being a cold-water rain, I will be sunny and tell you something encouraging:

Remember how (either here or on G+) I have talked about putting yourself out there when it comes to saying what you feel? Well, I spoke up (or rather wrote out) about how I feel to a person I care about. Do I feel it was risk? Sure. Do I regret it? Nope. That's because, no matter how the person takes it - whether they feel the same or feel opposite - at least now they know. Also, I think that everyone appreciates knowing that they have made such an impression on another person. I bet that, no matter what, the person I'm talking about is going to feel good every time they think of what I said. The most important thing to me is not how this all makes me feel (sad or rejected, etc.) but that it makes the other person feel good. If they are in a situation where they are not appreciated, well, at least they know now that someone thinks the world of them. If they are ever having a bad day, they can feel better knowing they mean something to someone. (And you all know what I mean. Which one of us hasn't been crushed on by someone? And didn't we like it even if we didn't crush back on the person? Go on, admit it. lol)

I'm trying to think of whether or not I want to share here in this post what I did say to this person... I don't think I will because I promised that the words I did say to them now belonged to them. It will stay that way. A gift.

Of course, I second-guessed myself right after I gifted the words, but in talking with folks over on G+, I got a lot of insight. Between about four of us, we came up with the idea that it's better to go for what is right than to wait for what is perfect. Hell, there is nothing perfect anyway. I am flawed, why should I want something or someone perfect? So I can feel smaller? So I can always be so worried about meeting impossible expectations rather than enjoying the good and now?

So, my thing today is all about the Push-Push. Push for being happiest in whatever life is going to bring - in health, in the heart, in the head... Whatever. No more being passive. Push-Push.

Peace
--Free

Cue the appropriate sunny-mood music...

Musical Flashback!

That old dog has chained you up alrightGive you everything you needTo live inside a twisted cageSleep beside an empty rageI had a dream, I was your hero
Damn, I wish I was your loverI'll rock you till the daylight comesMake sure you are smilin' and warmI am everything, tonight I'll be your motherI will do such things to ease your painFree your mind and you won't feel ashamed, oh, ohOpen up on the inside, gonna fill you up, gonna make you cry
This monkey can't stand to see you black and blueGive you somethin' sweet each timeYou come inside my jungle bookWhat is it just too good?Don't say you'll stay 'cause then you go away
Damn, I wish I was your loverI'll rock you till the daylight comesMake sure you are smilin' and warmI am everything, tonight I'll be your motherI will do such things to ease your painFree your mind and you won't feel ashamed
Shucks, for me there is no otherYou're the only shoe that fitsI can't imagine I'll grow out of itDamn, I wish I was your lover
If I was your girl believe meI'd turn on the Rollin' StonesWe could groove along and feel much betterLet me inI could do it forever and ever and ever and ever
Give me an hour to kiss youWalk through Heaven's door I'm sureWe don't need no doctor to feel much betterLet me inForever and ever and ever and ever
I sat on a mountainside with peace of mindAnd I lay by the oceanMakin' love to her with visions clearWalked the days with no one nearAnd I return as chained and bound to you
Damn, I wish I was your loverI'll rock you till the daylight comesMake sure you are smilin' and warmI am everything, tonight I'll be your motherI will do such things to ease your painFree your mind and you won't feel ashamed
Shucks, for me there is no otherYou're the only shoe that fitsI can't imagine, I'll grow out of itDamn, I wish I was your lover
Just open up I'm gonna come insideI wanna fill you up I wanna make you cry(Damn I wish I was your lover)Gettin' on the subway and I'm comin' uptown(Damn I wish I was your lover)Standin' on a street corner waitin' for my love to change(Damn I wish I was your lover)
Feelin' like a school boy, too shy and too young(Damn I wish I was your lover)Open up I wanna come inside, I wanna fill you up, I wanna make you cry(Damn I wish I was your lover)Gettin' on my camel and I'll ride it uptown, ooh(Damn I wish I was your lover)Hanging around this jungle, wishing that this
(Copied from MetroLyrics.com) 




{I had never actually known any of the lyrics - outside the title. Damn, this was kinda racy.}


Peace
--Free

Why, G

As you know, G+ is an addiction of mine. The people are super-chill and there is a group or a page or a something for everyone. All mu buddies over there are supportive & they don't freak when I stop making sense while going through a Sarc moment. (Having one of those now, so try to read around any weirdness here.)

I just now went over to the G to see what was up & once again, I have a bunch of Adds that I neglected. I need to keep up with that. Here's the thing about people who Add me on G: some are so compatible with my way of thinking that I get why they did an Add. Some are just spammish, trying to get their marketing out to you. Those are funny because they are usually sneaky enough to throw a couple of interesting & normal posts in every now & then before they blammo you with their adverts. Some folks are way different from me, but still have a sense of humor or sweetness or artistic something that appeals. But some are just plain creepy. I shiver when I see the ones who have that crazy-looking picture on their profile & a bio that makes me want to call 911.

When I was offline for a couple days recently, I didn't expect that I'd be going back to a totally revamped site. Google is rolling out some changes to the look of Plus. I like it so far, but sure hope they don't go all Facebook on us & start changing everything up every ten minutes. I have a hard enough time focusing as it is.

So...

I have no idea what the heck this post was going to be about. I had an idea when I started, but it's gone now! Damn this 4a.m. wake-up crap. I promise to get my brain back on track and do a more coherent posting soon.

Peace
--Free

Old Loves. Old Love Songs.

One of my BFFs (J) called me today & we got to laughing & talking about being free of old stuff. while trying to be open to new stuff.

Stuff.

Yeah, okay. Stuff is work, love and laughing.

J has some new "stuff" (of the heart, if you know what I mean) and I've been giving her a lot of crap about it. Because it makes her smile and blush. So dang cute!

Anyway, we have both recently been cleaning out old stuff. We were talking about old loves & such & it dawned on us how much a part music plays in any kind of emotional "big-moment" situation. Think about graduations & the music. Weddings and the music. Funeral and the music (especially in my "Holy Roller" background!) Not so much for births, but I guess that's because it's usually some kind of romantic music that got the drawers dropped in the first place. (Sorry, I am being crude for some reason.)

A n y way...

J and I admitted to some of the songs that have gotten us a little carried away in past romantic situations. I thought some of hers were kind of odd (I mean, Peter Frampton is a guitar GOD, but, um... I don't see how anybody gets all heated up from his music.)

Some of my old favorites were so good to me, I actually went back and listened to some today. There was Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" (don't ask), dang near anything by Lenny Williams or Teddy Pendergrass (as the comics say: Lenny cried you into bed with his "I love you, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!" & Teddy damn near made you jump in the bed with his "Turn off the lights!" Couple times I'd be mad at my husband & I'd forget what about once Teddy started crooning. I mean, really - "Turn off the lights, and let's get cozy" - what woman doesn't like to cuddle?), Barry White & Prince could just get nasty. Man, that's for grownups only. Al Green makes you want to snuggle a lot. And I love some Natalie Cole singing about how she "can't say no," but I start selling jewelry to support some bum when I listen to her. I can really just listen to some Shai or even some jazz to feel a mood... But that all kind of appeals to the body only. That kind of thing is great if you're twenty. At this age, I need to get my head and heart involved. (Don't ask me to tell you what J needs for that. You would fall over laughing and start Googling mental conditions to figure it all out. I will just say two words and leave you to gape: "Weird Al.")

Back to me and other semi-normal people... Some music just makes two people want to move in closer and just be together. Nothing complicated, no freaky-deaky, no mental gymnastics. Just a pure I-love-you-like-you-am-crazy-about-you-even-when-you-have-sleep-gunk-in-your-eye.

(Sorry. I don't know what's with me and the word-chaining today.)

My all-time favorite gets me deepest probably  because it's good for it all from I-just-love-you-so-much to I'm-sorry-I-was-a-bit**h (cos, um, I'm a little moody). Listen & tell me if this doesn't want to make you want to be in love...

*sigh*

I'm not even sure what the heck she's sorry about and I don't care that she's probably singing to a woman. Dang, that song just melts my heart.

By the way, I told this to J & that heffa stole my song! I tried giving her Prince, Etta James, Al Green - I was even willing to loan her Van Morrison, but noooo... She's decided that my song fits her and her new man. That's all right, I will come up with something new. Won't be telling J about it tho!

Peace
--Free

Home Happy Sad Mad Manic

I was trying to think of the song in some commercial (for dryer sheets or laundry soap?) that goes like: "Take me back, take me back, to my family, my family..."

Wish I could think of it. That would be the perfect song for me this morning. I am back home from that overnight at the hospital. It feels good. I am starting to count hospital stays. Had almost made it to a 1-year anniversary of the first (and I hoped, ONLY) stay. Just a couple months more...

This sounds crazy, and I do realize that, but I am almost afraid to mention any symptoms or worries to the fam a friends now. They are so quick to rush me off to the doctor - and the docs, of course, are quick to want to find out what's  wrong. Yes, I know - they are being rational and I am not. I am just being me.

Here's a funny thing: once again,  nearly every doctor I saw in the ER was so new that they had to check their notes to figure out which questions to ask me. Maybe not just because they are new, but also because of the Sarc. One of them seemed kind of excited when he told me I'm the first person he's met with the disease. Not the first patient - the first person. *shrug* I think I was kind of happy for him. *SMH*

Th other thing that's going to be fun is having the higher dose of prednisone again. And higher methotrexate. Yay. This is now an equation set of my life for a while:

More prednisone = more weight, more awake, more bitchy. 

+

More methotrexate = more sick.

and

weight, awake, bitchy, sick

=

HELL for those who care about me

So, yeah. Yay.

Did I mention that right now I can't drive? This. Sucks. Skunk booty.

Still, tho, I close in

Peace

--Free

Our 5a.m. Man

Tried to post this from the Blogger app on my phone Saturday night. My brain was still too foggy then, but here it is,  D.J. in his favorite place - my sister's lap.


This D.J.
It's a quarter to six. He's been this awake for about an hour & a half.
The only dude I'm happy to wake up for right now...

With A Fight

Might be a while before I post again, but I am determined to do this one.

I woke at about 4:30 this morning because of a strange pain behind my left eye. Scared hell out of me. Have always feared getting sick or something while everyone else is asleep. The pain would not go away, but I didn't want to panic (even though my easily worried and half-hypochondriac self immediately thought of aneurysm, stroke, this damn Sarc!)

The pain went away (mostly) after about half an hour, but on my way out of bed and to the bathroom, I noticed a weakness in my arms and legs, and unbalance in my movements. Went past Scared Mode and into About To Be Terrified.

It's now about 7 a.m. I feel shaky still, typing is super-tedious, and I will be damned if this is the one morning my nephew wasn't up for work at the crack of dawn. No one is up - not the baby, not my sister down the hall... Of all mornings for everyone to turn Rip Van Winkle on me!

I am going to sit here very still and quiet. Have already mailed my one niece (who is up because of the time in North Carolina). Have checked in on G+ (am I too weird or what?), and have checked my email. Someone here should be waking up soon. I suppose I might have to do in to the hospital, but I am sitting here just praying that I am going to feel better before that has to happen.

And what is on my mind? My blog, my living and being and doing until I absolutely cannot. Will never go down without a fight for the life God has given me.

Peace
--Free

Feeling Solid

Do you know how when you are feeling down (or sick or panicked or whatever), you don't feel whole? As if you or your soul is out of focus and sort of there-not-there? Like Captain Kirk and Scotty when they are about to "beam" up? Well, I've been feeling that way for so long that I was unaware until something happened to make me feel solid again.

I've probably said it before (I am sure that I have), but there are times when this disease has made me feel as if I have gone insane. There is the terror that people will think that I am not in any way intelligent, that I will meet someone important on one of my bad days and they will walk away wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Yesterday I met with someone who does not know me and, hopefully, had no prior reason to judge me outside a professional capacity. They declared me not "crazy. Oh, God bless them! They can;t know that I was having a pretty bad day with the disease. How I wish I could have made them understand how important that was to me.

I think - actually, I know that I have isolated myself quite a bit since this whole business of the invasion of my body. It's hard not to. Probably it's my pride, but I really don't like getting outside my little circle of comfort: family, friends, places, pursuits. This person I met with made me realize that when they asked about what kind of support I have and what kinds of things I enjoy doing. I had to struggle to think of anything. There was a time when I could have rattled off a thousand things. There was a time when I was so busy and occupied (and those are two different things, you know!), but now...

What I need to do is just allow myself to fail. I need to at least try things. I realize that and I'm going to work on it.

What kinds of things do I enjoy? Why can't I keep doing them, at least to the point that I can?

So, I'm going to try to read more, no matter how little sense the words make and no matter how hard it is for me to see them. I am going to get back to crocheting my sad, useless little trails of stitches to be unraveled and re-done. I am going to spend more time with my fam and friends. I'm sure they won't care what my mood is. Ha! I know I can count on them to let me know if I am in a decent enough mood or not. I am going to blog and write more fiction waiting for the words to be perfect. I don't think that you guys will be too annoyed, will you? I am going to start back going to church. If start to panic or get bothered by the crowd, well, the congregation can pray for me!

I am going to stop hiding from myself inside this disease. I am going to start being as much me as I can manage. I don't know if this disease can kill my body or not, but I'll be damned if I let it kill my spirit.

Yeah. I so wish I could thank a certain person. I might never see them again, but I will keep them in my prayers always.

Peace
--Free

I Hate Love

I had to look twice when I saw this Neil Gaiman quote:

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

Wow. That made me think, laugh, feel happy, sad, young, old, wise and ignorant - all at the same moment.

I'm not in love, but I am in  Silly Crush mode. I thought crushes were only for the young, but since crushes are only anticipated and imagined romantic possibilities, I suppose they are for everyone. I know now that crushes are about as exciting and horrible as being in love. Yeah, so I'm with Neil on this one: I hate crushes.

Hmmm.

I suppose I need to take a big, humongous, scary, heart-stopping, death-of-pride-defying leap of a chance. I need to take a deep breath and exhale some deep words. At least then I can get on with being either happy or sad, smiling or crying. Knowing would be good. I can drown in ecstasy or wallow in  broken hopes and survive either one. I can't handle my mind wondering and pondering, my heart tossing and turning and just not knowing. I need to say some specific things to a specific someone, specifically soon...

 But not today. Today I'm going to just deal with the idiocy of it all...

Peace (or something like it)
--Free

A Little Knowledge...

... Can be the most dangerous thing!

I have to brag on the clinic I go to. The people there are the absolute best and I can prove it. For one thing, I continually bug the piss out of them and they have remained ever so patient with me!

Example: My doctor called me probably a week ago to let me know there were concerns over my recent lab results. He has me set to go see a nephrologist. Great. A kidney doctor. I get this particular call from my doctor while I am with my sister at her dialysis treatment. I literally felt sick to my stomach. I was shaking while I was on the phone and felt like I was going to cry if I talked much, so I couldn't do more than verbally nod and mentally stutter. I have been afraid of the very idea, though and remote possibility of dialysis for myself ever since my mother and two of my siblings have had to have it.

I am pretty sure that my doctor explained every single thing about those labs and his reasons for wanting me to see a kidney specialist. I can be so sure because my doctor always explains everything to me. The problem is I barely heard what he was saying and what I did hear, I forgot. I do that - forget things. A lot. I remember that I forget things, but...

Anyway. I was pretty freaked out by the news, and I couldn't even think straight. I was trying to imagine how my life will be if I end up on dialysis. Totally over, comes to mind. That sounds shallow and stupid, but I am trying to be honest. The only thing that kept me from crying was that I was in a roomful of dialysis patients. I've gotten to know a lot of these people. I didn't want them to see me bawling. I did what I do when I am feeling my worst: smiled and made small talk.

On the outside, I was one big public smile. Inside, I felt like a human mass of mess.

I traveled in my mind to the outer edges of a place I call Next Door to Freak Out World. I spent most of the weekend sleepless, crying and burning all kinds of nervous energy. My niece hid the coffee and anything else with caffeine. My sister had a full-time job in keeping me from freaking out on a nuclear scale. It was a mess. I was a mess.

Then I get the lab results in the mail - standard practice. These are the same results my doc told me about, no surprise. The clinic always mails out a copy. (Told you they were good.) I guess seeing results in black and white sent me from the outer  edges to the inner Land of Freaking Out. I kept looking at the results and trying to get them to make sense. I sometimes can't get regular words to make sense; these were codes and acronyms and weird numbers. (I'm really, really bad with numbers. Acronyms and initials weird me out because my brain tries to make them into whole words.) Anyway, everything on those pages started blending and blurring and swirling around. They were incomprehensible to me. I hate this fucking disease!!!! I just wanted to be able to understand what I was seeing.

And then...

I got this bright (or stupid) idea to go to the internet.

Did you know that if you type into Google Search the words "CBC labs" that  13,500,000 results will come up? Did you know that I only used one of the results to find out more than I initially wanted to know about my labs?

Good mercy. This internet-world-at-your-hands stuff is scary.

Tell me why I get these bright ideas to research this particular thing on a Friday -  after hours... I immediately wanted to call my doctor, but couldn't - not without sounding like such a panicked, paranoid head case that he'd next be referring to a psychiatrist. I didn't want to say anything to my sister because she was resting up from dealing with my neurotic, sometimes-hypochondriac ass all week.

Damnit.

Turns out I didn't have to tell my sister. Or at least I didn't have to bring it up. She pretty much guessed that something had me back visiting my imaginary friends in Freaking Out. So, I admitted what I'd done. Once I got started telling her, I did what I do when I start talking: kept going on and on until my mind and mouth were pretty much emptied out.

Dumbass.

That's my favorite word to hurl around at those who annoy me. My sister took it from me and beat me over the head with it. After that, she questioned whether I deserved to have access to the internet. Then she insisted that I just write down my questions and call the clinic.

Yeah, like I want to admit to my doctor that I'm a raving idiot who forgot everything he probably had already explained to me. I wasn't going to call. I don't want to be "that" patient. I swore I wouldn't call.

I called. Just a little bit ago. But I was sneaky. Instead of trying to reach my doctor, I decided to speak with his Medical Assistant. The assistant is a sweet young lady. I think she thinks I'm being treated for a mental illness along with my other problem. She might know something I don't. Whatever, I figured she would be the one other than my doc who'd know what was up with the lab tests.

This was a great plan until someone answers the phone. Right off the bat I'm told that the M.A. is on another line - and I'm told this by some lady who says that she can help answer questions about labs better than a medical assistant could. Well, hell. I don't know this lady, but I figure she must know something.

This woman has some good info. It's not like she told me not to worry at all, but she did answer the questions I had. She also told me not to be freaked out. And she didn't seem to think that my questions were silly or unusual. Whew!

Can you spell "relief" without being corny like a commercial? Wow. I guess I need to just chill. The lady explained things in pretty general terms, but I think it was her own sense of calm that helped get me down off the chair where I was stringing up a rope. 

I feel better. Kind of. Actually, I still feel a little bugged out, but I'm trying to stay chill until I have the appointment. 

My advice to anyone who is tempted to use the internet as source of serious medical information: Please don't. It will drive you insane. If you need to know something, call your doctor. You're going to need one anyway if you get hold of just a lit-tle bit of knowledge.

Peace
--Free

On Being Me

I saw something over on G+ and, as usual, I have more to say about it than fits in a comment box. This is the Cantonese proverb that was imposed over a sketch of a woman.

"When sleeping women wake, mountains move."

That touched me. Hard. How could it not?

Then I read the G-Plusser's own preface of : "It's not about shoes, finding the right guy, or worrying if your butt looks too big in those jeans."

I get the point they were trying to make. Really, I do. First of all, the sketch and proverb shows as coming  from a Christian site.. (*shrug*) I am, believe it or not, a Christian. For a while, I was so hard on myself - trying to be a super-Christian. I even blogged about it (from my high horse, of course). I tried not to think of anything that even smelled of sinfulness. Tried to be a water-proof, bullet-proof, totally immune Christian.

Guess what? I couldn't do it. I couldn't not be human.

I am a woman, I am flesh and blood. I do think about things like food, water, shelter, warmth, love, touch, sex, sad, happy and right and wrong. I do think about finding the right guy, worrying if my butt looks too big (or small), or if my hair is pretty or if I smell nice. Of course I think about all that. I just try not to make it such a priority that I become a worthless human being, no good to anyone else because I'm too busy thinking about myself, but... I hope you get my point. (By the way, I ended up going back in and deleting a lot of those self-righteous posts on my blogs. I even shut down one of the blogs entirely.) 

The way I see it, Jesus died for my sins, for my being human, and he didn't stop loving me when I become his. I become Christians, but I didn't stop being human.

Now, do I go out looking to be "bad"? I don't, but I had to stop trying to be perfect. If I ever do reach "perfect" then I won't need Jesus. But I do need him. I need him as much as I need to be human.

No offense intended toward the G+ poster, and I don't even know for sure what their personal comment meant. I just wanted to address - for myself - what it made me feel.

Peace
--Free

Easy to Forget, Important to Remember

This is something that everyone - no matter your race or nationality - needs to see and remember. 


Peace
--Free