So, massive doses of vitamin B, medication, meditation, and writing kept me from sinking into the sucking abyss. You can all go back to poking me with sticks without fear of my mental breakdown again. It’s something you can’t even explain, but I will try to – it’s like waking up one morning and you just don’t even care that you have no money, and no gas, and there’s nowhere in walking distance that you want to go, and the house is a mess, and you have a stack of bills, but that’s all okay, because you’re fine with just hanging out at home, and it isn’t even depressing. Like that giant safe that was dropped on your soul from forty stories above has been pushed off and you can breathe again, and think of sad things without having a sobbing meltdown. You eat things other than chocolate and ice cream. You don’t really care that you aren’t chasing every dream you ever had, you’re just happy that you don’t have to fight to get out of bed, that you are back to considering a future, and the physical feeling of drowning under the weight of your tears is gone. Boom. Like that. Even though I don’t have the power to turn my depression on and off like a switch, some times it comes and goes like someone else has the power to control it. It’s not like anything changed in my life to make it better, it’s just I woke up on a perfectly gloomy day, continued to do the same mundane things I always do, but suddenly, it wasn’t like physical torture anymore. And I am grateful for everyday it gets to stay this way.
This is a good thing because two year check up is in two weeks. I do believe my baby alien re-inflated itself after the last tortuous surgery, or at least that is what I am hoping. Actually, I’m not hoping that it did, I am just hoping that that is all that is wrong, because something is, and rather than whining about it, I’ve been just patiently waiting for the next day of probing to address it. It’s not like waiting a month would really make a big difference anyway, but I’ve got pain and weird sensations going on in ground zero and I know something is up. I’m pretty sure I’m still cancer-free, but I think that the poking around at the chrysalis in my former uterine cavity did little to eliminate the problem and was just a stop-gap, and at some point it’s gonna be either me, or a qualified surgeon, going in there with a knife and cutting that shit out. And if it is cancer, well, not much I can do about that except treat it – it’s not like it’s flesh eating bacteria or a bot-fly larva erupting from my skin. See? I come out of the darkness, and I’m all like, who gives a fuck? For the record, Vitamin B is nasty, but clearly works. Or I believe it works, and thus I prove the placebo effect valid once again.
Hopefully you are all breathing a sigh of relief at my return to normalcy. Normalcy is relative though, and I’m still pondering the secrets of the universe and scheming great schemes. Andy has agreed to go to Riot Fest with his mother, and I am buying his ticket for his birthday. The last time we went on vacation together was when he was five and we went to Disneyland for a week for his birthday – Riot Fest will be much like that trip, except, I won’t be charged with child abuse if I smack him in the head for being whiny. In other words, he will fall asleep in the car, whine about being hungry, complain about the music I am listening too, wander away and want to go in the opposite direction of wherever I want to go. And like when we went to Warped Tour to see AM! and Pennywise, he will spend all his money, and come looking for me only when he is covered in mud and has lost his shoes and is hungry. Mother and son bonding at its finest. If you want to join us, let me know – I will be staying in a hotel – he wants to stay in a tent – or the car – or on the ground – and as he will ditch me to see the bands he wants to see once inside the gate I will technically be alone. We’re driving because I love a good road trip. You can get tickets on layaway, which is the only reason we can afford it – because the universe has some sort of issue with me having a bank account with any sort of substantial balance in it (grasshopper).
Well friends, it’s almost time to make something for dinner. Maybe if you are lucky, I will make something amazing and you will be treated to pictures of it on FB. Have a great rest of the weekend, and Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful dads out there, including my “son” Corey, and my dad, if he’s ever allowed to return from where he is being held hostage at my brother’s home (detention camp) in Maryland, and to all the moms out there who are filling in as dads. And the men who are like dads to the dad-less. Fight the power!
I guess you expected another alphabet challenge entry. As predicted, I got to k, and have decided that for me, having to write with a prompt just is no bueno. I have too much going on in my head at any given moment to be limiting it to a single character to capture it all.
Ironically, the next letter I would have written about was the letter L. Which is the type of work I am avoiding right now as I blog instead. Legal. I should be preparing my court questions for my hearing tomorrow. Or completing affidavits. I loaded up the flash drive on Friday to get this work done over the weekend. I was all about about doing work at home. I was….really. That said, because I knew I was going to do paperwork, I made a ham, cleaned my bedroom, organized my yarn. organized my art supplies, read some magazines, drank coffee, made a scrumptious salad with the ham, did laundry, napped, stacked books, watched tv shows I tivo’d, surfed the internet, pinned some shit, and made four hats. Procrastination 1000, Work 0. I will eventually get to the work stuff…probably at 11, and then I’ll get up at 5 am to do some more, because as my fellow baby snatchers know, the night before court is one restless night. No matter how solid your testimony is, no matter how much you have prepared, if you have to be at court, it’s usually because you are about to make one of the parties unhappy. And baby snatchers are disliked enough without having to deliberately make people more miserable. That’s not to say what I do isn’t necessary, and in the interest of keeping kids safe, but it’s never like anyone is all like…”hey, it’s CYS, hey how ya doing? Good to see you, I was just saying, I wish CYS would come by and visit, and uncomplicate my life” “oh we’re going to court? And you are going to testify against me and argue why my kids aren’t safe in my care? Well, come on in and let me bring you some cake!” So anyway, that’s why I will be up all night, tossing and turning – already I’ve got the burning knot in my stomach – and I actually enjoy testifying. I can only imagine what it is like for my co-workers who are uncomfortable with it. At least I now have a computer that has all the necessary keys present on the key board and isn’t possessed, throwing the cursor around wherever it wants and devouring whole manuscripts never to be recovered from the hell files again.
Anyway, I was pretty fired up this morning when I realized that if I touched my computer I might be required to work, that I decided to wait a little and see if the passion subsided. As those of you who have delighted in my work for the last couple years know, I love to watch the Sunday morning political talk shows – specifically Meet the Press, and Face the Nation. If you have read this blog long enough, you will also know that I am a liberal of the worst kind…an uber bleeding heart socialist who believes that the wealth should shared in this country, guns are unnecessary, death penalty is inhumane, people come in all shades, sizes, languages, belief systems, gender identities (or not) and love who they love, kum-bi-yah (fill in the rest of the typical derogatory references to my political ideology here). I am also able to see past “belief systems” and see the person, which is why, despite my super left leanings, I also have a number of conservative friends who love me and I love as well. OH SHIT, I forgot to say I’m also a feminist with minor in women’s studies and a thesis on Feminism in the Colonial Period, which also makes me an intellectual elitist. For those of you still reading after this disclosure, I should also add I am fat and poor in material wealth, and also non-christian. Whew.
So back to Meet the Press. The recording artist,Will.i.am, was on Meet The Press today. He’s a big supporter of the power of education to change lives. He has his own foundation. Of course all the political shows were heavy with people of color due to that nut job Sterling, but Will.i.am was not playing into it. He asked the politicians on Meet the Press, why does our country not care about making our children the smartest in the world and emphasizing things like project based learning. Then the politicos would open their mouths, and based on their political leanings, would blame the lack of funding for education by the Right or the stomping on State’s Rights by the Left. Of course, Obamacare is also to blame. And the Christian Coalition.
Now, I suppose you’ve dozed off by now, but I will continue writing. Because here’s what I found fascinating. Will.i.am’s only question was why are we doing it, not who is to blame, and if we really want to foster American’s exceptionalism, why is it that we don’t capitalize on American creativity, and make it easier for our own citizens to get solid educations and hands on learning? He asked if we all believe in the same thing, then why don’t we do something to make it happen? And that’s when the light shone bright on how screwed up our nation is and why we border on the edge of the decline of Western Civilization. No one walks their talk. I find it hard to believe that every Republican politician believes in his or her heart that abortion is evil, we should let poor people starve, and that God should be forced into our education system. Nor do I believe that every Democrat believes that guns are the root of all evil, we should never say the word God in public and that socialism is the only answer. Yet, once we elect a “democrat” or a “republican” – they have to toe the party line and object to anything the other party asks for. No more acting for the good of the electorate. Make sure you don’t act outside your limitations. Don’t live your beliefs, adopt the beliefs of your party. And of course, it once again made me lose hope that anything will ever change, as the questions continued and each politician in turn, didn’t answer the question, but said why the other political party was foiling all of their ideas. And so another day, week, month, passes in America, and teachers are forced to teach kids to take tests, and try to squeeze actual learning and creativity in and around the indoctrination. Sigh. I did however, enjoy the jokes from the White House Correspondents Dinner, and yes, I am a science and political nerd. Add that to the list.
I have so many more things that have been brewing in my brain to write about, and were stymied by following rules. Not that it wasn’t a good idea to start with, and I learned some new words, but 26 letters, that’s a lot for one month. While I have your attention however, or if you just skipped to the last paragraph to pretend like you read this, I encourage you to go to iTunes and download Ryan Young’s Anxious and Angry podcast. In episode 4, he interviews P22, the California mountain lion with mange from eating poisoned rats. I wish I would have emailed a question, to find out why they call him P22, and not ML22. Seriously though, its a great podcast, with very interesting discussions it’s swell being able to listen to Ryan talk with his guests and find that their lives are not entirely different from our own. It’s also quite effective in calming you down when you want to explode with rage at coworkers. Not that I ever would, but sometimes I am seething on the inside, and I wonder if they can hear my thoughts. Or if sometimes my thoughts are actually coming out of my mouth in a mumbly sort of way. So go download it. You can do it here. You should probably buy something on the website too. I mean, he went after a mountain lion with mange to try and reunite it with its family. That should make you buy a shirt. And be careful with the box, because there may be a note inside that you might almost recycle because when you tore the box open to get your shirt and flexi out, you weren’t paying attention. (Thanks for the note Ryan! – I will let you know if the flexi did its job in July – Harsh Realms is one of my favorite songs from Heart Burns btw) And there’s a link to the Anxious and Angry website on the right sidebar too. Just in case you forget to go here.
Time to get my life together for work tomorrow…here’s a picture of the flexi and the awesome note I almost missed – I would have take a picture of the shirt too, but it’s currently in the spin part of the wash cycle…
Oh, and before I forget, I believe the birds nesting outside my window must be eagles – they came swooping and screeching down this morning…definitely not sparrows.
It has been an emotionally draining week. It ended with my monthly road trip to Philadelphia and back, which is usually highlighted by the trip to the Asian food bar at Wegman’s. But even a box full of curried lamb and pot stickers have done little to lift the weight of world that’s settled onto my shoulders.
However, armed with my new trusty ipod shuffle loaded with several of my favorite bands (heavy on the OWTH, AM!, Fur, The Go Set and Pennywise but completely devoid of any Elliott Smith songs because it’s spring and Elliott Smith should only be listened to on cold rainy November days or if someone kills your puppy and eats it) and plenty of time spent driving in circles because all though it is alleged that Benjamin Franklin laid out the streets of Philadelphia in a neat grid form (LIES, ALL OF IT LIES) I was able to be alone with my thoughts for most of the day. (and again, thanks Jim Tanner, for giving me the wonderful shuffle to let me have music back in my life).
So there I was, sunroof opened, hopelessly turned about in North Philly, my phone GPS always two steps behind my current locations (aka being completely useless, as were my mapquest maps). Annoying those around me with my glorious alto voice, I kept returning to the events of the past few days that have left me feeling defeated, and basically like a desiccated corpse. It’s been a really rough week. So I tried thinking happy thoughts, because the job frowns on my driving around with a water bottle full of vodka and cocoa, at least on work time. I feel it is very important to share many of these valuable and fascinating thoughts with you, gentle reader:
- Dead skunks are the only true sign of spring. The poor fellows awaken, wander onto roads everywhere, and die. Their death is the sacrifice that brings on spring. Not robins. Not geese. Not onion snow. Skunks. You read it here first.
- There are too many drivers on the road that do not understand the purpose of marking lines on the road. The speed limit is a suggestion; lane lines are a rule. Stay in your own lane. If you can’t drive a large vehicle and keep it in your very ample lane, buy a fiat. And reenact the commercial.
- There must be a subliminal message in reality tv. Like ice cream, or irish soda bread, it gets in your blood and some how you can’t look away. Unless it has to do with duck calls or Kardashians. Then you must avert your eyes. Or you will turn to a pillar of artificial sweetener.
- Kid hugs can cure a lot of bad things. I’ve hugged as many little people this week that would allow it and not make me look like some sort of creeper. However the innocence of little children should be distilled and sold in tablet form. It kills a lot of the bad mojo that grownups cast off around me.
- A kid climbing a lingering snow bank on their way to school in the morning will always make me smile.
- I feel like there are far too many drivers from Quebec on the roads. Is there no fence being built to keep these Canadians out? (not all Canadians, just those who drive, from Quebec).
- If you have a car that is designed for driving fast, either drive it the way it was built to be driven or follow the instructions in number two, but buy a ford escort. No sense in wasting a fine italian car. And when I blow by you, don’t get all offended. You’re the slowpoke. I have things to do.
- This has been bothering me for days. If you open a Tattoo shop and you call it “Good Vibrations” and have a Jamaican theme, I have several issues. First, I would expect you to be from Jamaica. Second, if you are from Jamaica, and you have a tattoo shop, I would suspect that you probably enjoy the ganja. If you are from Jamaica, and enjoying the ganja, you are probably not going to be very successful with the whole tattooing thing, because while your creativity would be enhanced, there’s always a fear that your mind is going go from pretty unicorn with flower to cheeseburger and gravy fries, and I would hate to end up with a unicorn that’s made from french fries on my arm or leg.
Okay, all that thinking made me tired, but before I go, I finally came up with an idea for my 2 year cancer free tattoo (which was supposed to be my one year, but I couldn’t settle on a design that would incorporate all the ideas for honoring everything that pulled me through that dark time). Really the only reason I’m getting another tattoo is because everyone in the oncology department always asks if I have new ink, and perhaps a new tattoo will make them forget to stab and scrape at me next time. Of course, it will likely end up being a 5 year anniversary tattoo, because we all know how good I am at doing things a timely manner. Speaking of which, I guess I should take the Christmas tree down sometime before Easter.
PS. You know those stories about how people see feather or dimes on the street as a sign from a dead loved one. Well, a few months ago, I was musing in the car, and I thought, probably out loud, that if my dear dead friend Joey really could send me a sign, he should send a cardinal or maybe an owl. I forgot about it for a while. Cardinals are not uncommon here, but you don’t often see them near the highway, owls usually aren’t out during the day. Anyway, I’m speeding along today, and swoosh! Here comes a crazy kamikaze cardinal headed for the grille of the car! I don’t know how it lived, but I laughed out loud, because that was clearly a sign. I am just glad it didn’t hit the car because I drove around with the last dead bird in my grille for days until Andy got it out. So JC, I know you’re out there, so the next sign I need is a small stack of hundreds, k? And don’t throw them at the car, just set them on the seat.
Now I bid you a fond adieu! Time to fall asleep watching Dexter! or read. I probably should read.