Posts (page 2)
Went to therapy today. More platitudes and "reframing" situations. I love her to death, but sometimes it's just depressing to be told for the millionth time that I need not to sweat the petty things (and, of course, not to pet the sweaty things). Doing this is harder than words can describe. I feel like I'm giving in to all the BS around me; the BS that I've been fighting most of my life. I'm so very tired of fighting but the thought of letting some craven jerk like some middle manager tell me what to do curdles my intestines.
So, I went to Body M today and got most of my earrings put back in - five each in the traditional ear spots, plus one each for the tragus, and fixing my nose. It was a little burn-ey because I'd been wearing the junk jewelry since the first MRI, and I have 16s in all my regular spots (plus two plugs in each ear and two eyelets) (OK, maybe a picture would help). I like the piercing pain, though, because it feels like something I cause and something I can control.
But then I checked my voice mail and a good friend and DPSC-mate, Steve (the big guy on the left, pictured below [from 2005 Vegas]) had conjunctive heart failure and was admitted to the hospital where his heart cacked up a clot that gave him a stroke with damage in the same areas I got. I told him he can use my Big Brain Book when he's ready. He sounded in pretty good spirits, which is great. I know all my P-town peeps will take good care of him and the Wussys will do whatever it is that Wussys actually do in case of emergency. Something sweet, I'm sure (no sarcasm here - they really are a wonderful bunch of folks)
The Pirates are falling - I think the "D" should be amended to include "damaged" or "demented" or possibly "disgruntled" since one by one we're losing our ability to hold up the "drunken" part of the name. I'm racking my brain for what I wanted when I was at that point in the hospital (even though I didn't have the heart thing) and all I can think of is peace and an end to the pain. I'm sending him something anyway. Haven't seen him in a couple of years and this certainly underscores why we stay in touch with those we love. You never know when the end is near. Here's that picture I promised of Steve, Junior, Me, and Shari - the DPSC in one of our finest stunts - Vegas rally in wedding dresses. :)
+ Dave and I are getting along very well with the cohabitation - a few minor disputes, which we quickly worked out (the telepathy thing makes it hard to stay mad for very long). It's harder to get out of bed in the morning because the snuggle is so damn good. :)
— The ScooterCat has diabetes. Not unusual for a kitty of his girth and age, but unsettling anyway.
+ I've been completing lots of papers that should relieve some of the debt tension. Any agency that thinks blood leaks from a turnip is sadly behind the times and will be promptly referred to my agency.
— no application for extended disability yet - gotta see the doctor and figure out which diagnoses fit the best.
— missing my iPhone something firece - as the old saying goes, "you don't really know how much you need something until it's gone." Might buy a new one on credit - my memory is so bad I repeat things I've said mere moments earlier. Maybe I'll get an old one, since the prices are likely to drop. Hope hope hope.
+ I have to do one task at a time. It's not the fastest or most reliable, but it's all I can do. Today is what I have; no guarantees on tomorrow.
—/+ I'm off the Coumadin (blood thinner) as of the previous Saturday; now we wait to see if lightening strikes again. Keep your fingers crossed - for a year at least. If I have another stroke this year, I'd probably die or be a vegetable. Anyone know where to get the cyanide capsules? If I take a major downhill turn, I want you all to know that I want to die if I cannot function in the way to which I've become accustomed. Fuck the advance directive and fuck the card in my wallet - if I'm a veg, I must be put down. Please tell me that some of you know how this can (and must) be done.
— The accident of Jan 2007 resulted in me getting some of what the insurance will pay out (15K max) so I doubt I'll see any of that after the doctors and lawyers are done with it.I have the guys name and supposed address - and I seek revenge (if not on him at least his new Mercedes that ran me down) - how does one find the people in your peers that will do the dirty for me?
+ We get a nice little vacation this weekend - Tim and Marianna bought a house in Truckee. We will happily attend Housewarming Party II, see some awesome folks, and chill out. Yea!
+ I got a great call last week - Dave wanted to know where the laundry supplies were because he wanted to do a few loads. Shock, delight, disbelief - I love him so damn much. A BF who wants to help around the house? Inconceivable!
Indiana Jones and something about a crystal skull: Predictable and comforting. Harrison aging well; not quite as well as Sean Connery. Worth a see.
Dr. Strangelove: Still need to finish. Started late one night and fell asleep. Seemed to have promise.
There Will Be Blood: I make up titles for movies sometimes, both to criticize and to laugh. This one henceforth to be known as "Worst Soundtrack Ever." (Or, "How Does One Recover Hours Lost to Bad Cinema")
The Onion Movie: Two words: Steven Seagal. Didn't finish by popular vote from the house.
No Country for Old Men: New title = "A Flick Without an Ending" (See also secondary title for "There Will Be Blood," above).
Juno: A love story I actually enjoyed. Despite the baby, it still got me. That's saying something good about it right there.
Haven't seen many really good flicks lately. Seems to be a shortage. Suggestions?
Also, I used to have a horror movie buddy who's become domesticated. Maybe we can double at the AMC sometime? Dinner at Mel's first? You know who you are. :) If money's an issue, we can always play something on the projector in the North Wing - mostly cat-free so K can safely enter - and have a potluck?
This morning in odd searches:
I was looking for this:
And I found this:
No, it's not Photoshopped. Story here. But I believe it because years ago I saw a fishing show about catfish in the South. Some old guy was putting out baited lines at night and he'd come back in the morning and they showed the results - catfish as big as him - in Louisiana. I do believe I'd toss them back (as he did) because, "you don't keep an old fella like this - you put him back and come see him again in 10 years."
Last week, I participated in a tele-class given by Havi (my good friend Richard's SO and Fluent Self teacher). It was really interesting and I offered some of my issues as fodder for the experiment. At the conclusion of the phone call, I felt pretty optimistic about life, the universe, and everything. That lasted for a couple of days and I got a few things done. At this point, I'm giving all kinds of new ideas and practices a shot. You know, yoga, meditation, exercise, less drinking and more reading...
Then I started reading all the journals and whatnot that I missed when I wasn't doing much of anything. Man, you people are really out there doing things! Great jobs, schools, prospects, bona-fide brides and fiancés, new homes and new hopes. It reminded me of my description of one of my issues last week - Havi asked how it (the issue) looked and felt. I said it looked like an enormous smashed cookie on the sidewalk and it felt like walking through invisible pudding. Pardon me if I'm repeating myself, but life is not always a rich tapestry. It's simultaneously complex and convoluted; many-faceted and mangled; and wonderful and terrible.
I'm stuck in the pudding again. I know why: fear.
I don't know what I want to do with my life and I don't know where I'm going. I'm scared to even try most things because I don't want to fail. I'm sorting and sifting through all kinds of papers that will lead to more paperwork, more phone calls, and more of this effin' "due diligence."
I am done doing diligence. So. Over. It.
I had a great time painting with Gina and Jamie. Love talking with them and decorating his place.
But when it comes to doing my own diligence, the task sits there like the wall in A Game of Thrones. Too large to confront or break down into smaller bits. The hospitals, collection agencies, lawyers, doctors, etc. may have saved my life, but now they're making it a frozen hell. Currently, my "job" is handling all of this. It's harder than any job I've ever had. More debt for the consolidation company. If I don't get the disability extended, I'm back out there in the ranks of the unemployed, with half the brain I'm used to. I'm chum for the predators.
And I'm scared.
I'm so very glad so many people are doing so well, and I'm happy to see them happy. I don't want to detract from that. I guess I just envy the progress I see swirling around me while I sit on a rock, afraid to jump back into the stream.
Has it been six months already?
Really?
In some ways it feels very ancient, while in others it was just yesterday.
:: Warning: long post with run on sentences ::
Occupational therapy begins tomorrow - I get three sessions that my insurance will cover 80%, so I have to ask for homework. Lots of it. I'm definitely not ready for full time work. I've been doing some stuff with Jamie and Gina that makes me feel a little more "normal" (does that really apply?) -- thanks to them, I'm slowly getting back into swing of life and interacting with people. It's fun, too, and Jamie's place is going to be so very cool when we're done with the swatches and paint samples and we get it all beautified.
Dave and I went for a little ride today. This to-ride-or-not-to-ride question is a subject of great debate. I've had two parental figures tell me to give it up. Dave says it makes me happy and I should keep it up. We both stuff the fear (I'm going to get in a wreck and my very-thin blood will come spurting out like a water balloon) and get on the bikes. I even dragged the Red Bike out from under two very dirty tarps and got her back on the road. Sill lovely after all these years. The riding is ... a mixed bag. Yes, it feels great to be cruising through the Presidio on a nice Sunday afternoon. But it's also scary as hell and I have to reign in my auto-response aggressive scooting style. I still consider selling that bike because it sits for so long and I need the cash more than an extra scooter, but it always comes back to what Brian once told me: "If you're at a rally and the bike you most want to go home with is yours, then you did it right." Well, that paint job is a decade old, and there's some rust, but it's still the bike I want to go home with. *sigh*
Dave generously ponied up some credit card debt to get a new, fluffy futon for our living room. We did a bunch of rearranging yesterday and have 75% of one living room almost right. :) It looks much nicer than before and is significantly less cluttered. Later tonight, I'll be sorting and filing old things over Angel reruns and ridding our house of even more clutter. Well, that's the plan anyway. I seem to be stuck to a computer.
I made Schmoo throw up because I shot him full of insulin before he'd eaten anything. Whoops.
So, yeah, I'm supposed to be work-ready by the end of June, but we're applying for an extension in my disability payments 'cause I still have some cognitive issues, slight physical issues, and I'm just plain-old scared. Because some days it feels like I'm a regular girl and others I'm a jumpy, neurotic mess.
Meditate, breathe, concentrate, relax. Rinse and repeat.
:: end babble ::
You think I'd be more excited, but frankly, of the whole 80-ish games of hockey I watched 2007-2008, the last was the least exciting.
Hrm.
Why? Well, I'd already been up and down the rollercoaster that is/was a great, nail-biting series and, frankly I was tired.
Tired of mistreating my fingernails and digestive system, tired of surrendering the eighty-plus dollars that the Kezar extracts from you on a normal night (though they throw plenty down, gratis, when Detroit wins), and tired of waking up with the long-forgotten hangover. I was over those - really I was.
Joni was still braiding my hair as we watched the last period of the last game of the season, as Detroit is totally winning, and when Dave got up to dash up to Kezar for the celebration already well underway, we just decided to stay and chill. She kept braiding and we chatted and watched inconsequential TV. I talked briefly with Dave after Joni left, but listening to the din of the bar did nothing to make me jump from my jammies and run for a cab. In fact, quite the opposite.
So here I sit, on my floor since the Schmoo and his diabetic ass claimed the couch. On my laptop, blogging.
I'm stoked the Wings won the cup, I really am - Michigan certainly needs whatever revenue it can get and if it's converting a few Nascar-heads toward the icy sport, I'm all for it. But I'm also happy to have my hippie back for three months.
And since I mentioned it, here's the latest silly hairstyle on my head - w00t! I have enough to braid! :) :
What's next is anyone's guess - being on disability gives you a lot of chances to say "WTF" with your appearance. I like it.
But, bleh, it may be going away end of next month. Keep you fingers crossed so I can extend my disability and continue my rehab. My shell is still too soft to go out into the regular world.
(And, yes, I'm wearing a Redwings' shirt, courtesy of the family).
Yup - additional proof that no one should every give me something expensive and small.
I lost my iPhone, last night, either in a cab or on Polk Street.
It wasn't really my fault - the Redwings lost in triple overtime and we were exhausted. Things go missing - that's life.
*sigh*
Plus, this morning I had a $300 vet visit for ...wait for it ... my suddenly diabetic cat.
Yeah, I gotta give the Schmoo shots. Twice a day. Imagine our excitement.
Plus that visit dispensed with the "additional" cash I get from disability on top of rent.
Well, I'm off to the store to get a new SIM card to resurrect the Motorola. Back to the world of the people with ordinary phones.
Mer.
po·go·no·pho·bi·a -- n.
The fear of beards.
W00t!
Heading off for camping.
Soooooooo looking forward to it.
No computers, no phones, river nearby, actual darkness, fireside chats, and stars stars stars!
I leave you with this, the words I saw on a sign posted multiple times on a Chinese community center (which I failed to photograph because I'm lame sometimes): "Help Chinese Hurricane Victim." I mean, c'mon folks, you're walking right into the joke here...
See y'all later!
