There's a lot of things I've learned over the past couple days, and they are all things that have kept me from writing. I'm not much of a list maker, but I feel it is needed.
1. Sometimes people change, and it's not always for the better; sometimes it is. Either way, it can happen quickly, and sometimes the person you knew a year ago has done a whole one eighty and you find that you have no idea who they are. It really, really hurts when that happens, and it can leave you feeling really lost, angry, confused, sad or even pissed off. It depends on the situation, but the facts are the facts. People are people. There's no warranty that comes with them.
2. There comes a time where you are at a heavy crossroads and must make a decision about these people. I'm not the kind of girl to hang on to someone just to do it, even though my heart wants to so badly. I need closure of any kind, even if I have to be the one to end it. Either way, in any unhealthy relationship there will come a time when you have to sit down and just think and think and think until you can't anymore, then cry, and think some more, because there will be an event that will push you to know that things can't continue the way they are going. Or maybe there will be an event that proves otherwise, but you've got to know what you can handle and be prepared for both before you are slapped in the face with racing to make a decision.
3. If you have to let go of someone, it is okay. It is your choice and your choice alone. No matter what anyone else says, or tries to say, only you know the facts and the limits of your heart. On the same token, it is okay to decide to weather the storm with the person and keep hoping for another change. Some people do change again, but you never know the odds of that happening. Only God does. Its like a game of Russian Roulette. You never know what you are or are not giving up. But it is your choice alone...period. You can not let what anyone else says or does influence you.
4. It is okay to feel heartbroken; to be heartbroken. No matter how things turn out, you can't help the way you feel and if you're heartbroken, just admit it. No one will shoot you for it. It's part of life and part of being human.
5. Sometimes there is not a song in the world that is sad enough to match your emotions. You start off crying and then go to find a song to both comfort you, because you know someone else in the world has felt the same, and to bring the rest of the tears to the surface and wash some of the bad blood away, bringing a new day. But sometimes, no matter how many songs you've listened to, you just can't find the right one to make that happens, so you end up crying anyway because you're so sad that nothing fits your emotions that it frustrates you to the very core, and things just come out.
I know I personally was unable to find a song that was sad enough, so I cried in angst, although several of the song lyrics did fit what I was feeling. I felt like I just needed more...something...no matter what I listened to, but I would like to share the songs with you that I did find fitting and am now finding some comfort in, even if it's just the smallest amount. These are all the songs I found myself listening to, or singing to on repeat. There's a few of them, so hang tight. I will include links to all of them, so just go ahead and click on the name of the song and go for it.
Breathe by Taylor Swift. If you've ever lost a friend, no matter what the reason, this song lays it all on the line.
Every Time You Lie by Demi Lovato. I don't think there's a woman in the world who hasn't had a boy lie to her. Whether you were together or not, or you just loved him from afar, it doesn't matter. Liars are still liars. Period. Sometimes you have to be as strong as this girl, and she's so young. Gees, woman. You go!
My Immortal by a now extinct Evanescence. When someone makes a stamp on your heart, it's unlikely that it will ever leave. This song tells the sad tale of that better than any other. It makes me want Amy Lee solo music now. She is so talented and original.
Hurricane by The Hush Sound. (Track 5) This song captured me the moment I heard the first chords, and the music is just enough to evoke tears in itself. Forget the haunting vocals and the lyrics that accompany it.
A Few Days Down by Mandy Moore. This song reminds everyone, especially all of us girls who are trying to be super woman, that it's okay to just take a few days down, cry, drown yourself in total sorrow, and then emerge as beautiful as a butterfly
She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. Sometimes you just need to know that there is a guy out there that will aways love the broken side of you, even if that guy is a singer that you're not even remotely interested in and will never meet. It's still good to be able to listen to that fairy tale being played out for your ears to hear.
New Perspective by a partially defunct Panic! At the Disco. Okay, listen folks. We all know that I think Brendon Urie is talented and has a cute ass, so no one lynch mob me for this. This is not a sad break up song. This is a song that is about falling in love, and well, apparently wanting someone to go down on you, because that line was not graceful or necessary. I was not trying to listen to this song to make myself sad, or to heal. I came across it in the middle of my sadness and learned quickly that there is nothing worse than listening to a song about falling in love with someone who you know has expensive taste, but you just want them to blow you, that really, really sets things off and just makes you ten times sadder. If you really listen to the lyrics, you almost feel bad for the person who wrote it because you feel like they know the person they're in love with is just in it for the money, but they're in it for the sex and being praised, so it's totally okay. The writer also feels like he needs to run, too, because it's a better idea for whatever reason. Maybe he's scared? Maybe he knows the girl isn't right for him? I do not know, and quite frankly it's not really any of my business. On a side note, I think that Mr. Urie is responsible for the lyrics, but am unsure. Either way, someone hug the kid, because he's singing it so he probably needs it. I don't hate the song, but it was just cry inducing in the situation I was in that mad me want to rip it apart and spit on it because I was angry someone was in love. (No one lynch mob me for this, okay? Really, go listen to the lyrics and get back to me on what you get out of it. Maybe it's just me and my broken heart. I don't know. You decide.)
The Only Fault by Rachael Yamagata. (I couldn't find a place where you could listen to the actual recording of the song, so I had to go with a live version.) This was a hidden track that I wasn't totally aware of, but it describes exactly how I'm feeling. I could not have written it better myself, but it's about trying to change someone who has fallen into a bad place when they used to be a great person, because you love them and want them more than anything in the world. This is for the fearless girls out there.
Elephants by Rachael Yamagata. (I know I've used this before, but it was worth using again. I also couldn't find the recorded version, even though I know there's an actual music video to it.) Her music is good heartbreak music, and Elephants is so delicately written that it's truly an art form. The song really is about elephants in the way that it's a metaphor for human nature.
Keep You by Sugarland. This song has an irresistible chorus. If you listen to it with a broken heart, you won't be able to shake it for days.
You're Not Sorry by Taylor Swift. (Or if you prefer the alternate version made for CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, you can find it here.) This one moved me to tears the most, because no matter what, sometimes the person isn't sorry. Then again, sometimes they have nothing to be sorry about and that's what hurts the most.
6. This is all okay. All of it. Every single thing, every single emotion, every song you listen to, no matter how odd it may be. It's okay to cry, to laugh, to sing, or to do whatever you do, no matter how unconventional it is, just to feel better. If you wanna rock out with your socks out, go right on ahead, because if that's what gets you through something, that's what gets you through something. There is no handbook for this; no rules.
7. In the end, it will all be okay even though I know it damn well doesn't feel like it. There is a bigger plan out there, a reason that person is or was in your life, and it will shine through one day just when you need it to. It will all eventually make sense. Everything will click.
8. We all make mistakes and we all do stupid things. It's allowed. No one has the right to tell you it's not. Mistakes are all part of a growing process, and your mistakes are what make you who you are.
9. Who you are is beautiful to someone, and should be beautiful to yourself. You should love yourself, be your own best friend and be happy with who you are. Even if you're lonely and feel like nothing is going your way, just remember that someone thinks you are beautiful just the way you are. There is someone out there that you pass by everyday, or that you even met just once and made an impression on that wants to be with you, and you will never know it. They will forever be too afraid to say it, so don't get down on yourself. Someone will always be there, even if you don't know that they are.
10. Crying and being lonely are a normal part of life. I've always been afraid to cry in front of people, but I was giving myself the short end of the stick. It's okay to cry in front of someone and to rant and complain. There will always be those few jerks who tell you it isn't, but between those few jerks there will be the one diamond in the rough, and it will be the person you least expect. They will listen to you, nurture your feelings and care for you when you just really feel like you're being an annoying tool for freaking the heck out all over the place. They will tell you that you are not and it is okay, and you will learn after the storm dies down, that they are right. It is all okay. Never apologize for crying.
11. The heart wants what the heart wants. Sometimes you will be that person who loves someone from afar and they never know it. Sometimes you will be that girl that loves up close and they do know it, but their heart doesn't want you back. And there will always be a time when you love the wrong person and know it, but you can't help yourself and dive in knowing that your heart will be smashed in a zillion pieces when it all goes to hell (Track 12). When it happens it sucks big time. What sucks even worse is that you can't change things. They are what they are.
12. There is nothing wrong with being single. It does not make you a social reject, nor does it make you any less of a person. If someone tries to tell you otherwise, I will yell at them for you. Being single is empowering, and it's being independent. It's okay to be single for a long time. That's your prerogative and no one elses.
It has been a crazy week. I have stories to tell about Aunt Bev and her brand new computer, and pictures to share that are like the Greta ones in the last post, only with one of our cats, Scamper. I just can't do it right now. I am not Supergirl and I don't have to be. I want to thank the people who were there for me this week to listen to me cry, and maybe I'm not done crying, but I'm going to stop apologizing for it, because now I know that it is okay if I do it.
Thank you to those who kept me going this week, again, and hopefully soon I will be back with fun posts and feeling a little more like myself.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Wonderfully Hot, Ominously Rad Earthling Sisters
If I were to share where the title to this blog came from, I would have to then go into deep hiding. Just kidding, kind of. I think I'll just leave that little mystery to myself, and move on with the blog. But just know that I was trying to make someone's day. And also, the title is an acronym for WHORES, which the person who I initially wrote that to and I are not, thus why we were trying to come up with an acronym for it. I bet you all really want to know the story behind this now, don't you?
That will remain my dirty little secret, because it has to do with someone else as well as myself, and isn't really my back story to tell. I just like teasing all of you.
What I wanted to write about really isn't funny, nor is it something that everyone can relate to at this point in their lives, but at one point I know that everyone goes through this. Currently, both my friend and I are going through times that are tough, and for different reasons. I sympathize with her in a way that I know I'll never understand her exact pain, but I do always wish her the best.
While I was e-mailing her today, I didn't know what to say except for to send her some words that someone else passed along to me, and I would like to pass along to you. I will tell you my personal experiences that go along with how I ended up being told these things, but not hers. Her story is not mine to tell, and I respect her privacy with everything in me.
I have been through a lot in my short life, but I know that everyone has, even though all experiences are different. When you break it down, though, we all feel the same things. In different ways, true, but the feelings are still the same basics. Hurt, pain, love...they know no boundaries, and through these things we learn to connect with others. Our experiences with each help us find friends, lovers, and enemies. Our feelings tell us what is right and wrong, good and bad.
Last Sunday I was sitting at my computer completely frightened because of the surgery I was about to go into. Fear is a very strong emotion, and it often sparks fear of other events that aren't even currently taking place. It's like a rolling snowball. Fear just grows and grows, catching everything in its path, and playing with your mind. We all have fear, and I feel like it is often the strongest, most dominant emotion. Whether we all realize it or not, we are only bound by fear. What we can and can't do is determined by it, and it can become a sad picture if you let it overcome you. The trick is learning how not to, or learning how to work through it.
I was left to wonder last week where my big girl panties were, so to speak. I am used to be strong through whatever I'm going through. I had been through things far worse than Septoplasty in the last year, and it was boggling my mind why I was so afraid. I wanted my big girl panties back, and I wanted them back right at that very second, so I expressed this to a friend of mine in complete frustration over why I was so scared. I felt like I was being stupid. He, in turn, did not. Instead, he said this to me.
"You don't always have you wear your big girl panties. It's okay to cry and be vulnerable. It's okay to be scared and break down. It's a completely human thing to do, so if you need to cry or hide, give yourself time to heal, and then come back and join life. There's nothing wrong with that. You are a strong woman. Everyone knows that. You don't have to keep going full force fearless all of the time."
This is only part one of what he told me. Part two gets into a completely different subject.
I am known for being an open person, one of who tries to listen no matter what you have to say. I am not always the most perceptive person, and I don't always know the right thing to say, but I try. Ever since I remember I have been the go to girl for bad stories and things that don't work out for others. In a way, this has made me build up walls that no one can climb. Very gray, concrete walls that don't allow for absorption or entrance. Sometimes I don't always see this in myself, and I think that I'm doing pretty okay, but then I was reminded that sometimes I am just not. I don't have to be strong all the time. It is inhuman, and it took the following words from the same person to remind me of this.
"You don't realize it, but you have all these walls up and you're so defensive with people. You keep coming at people with this unbelievable internal strength until you've turned them inside out just to keep yourself from getting hurt. Step back from that. Just let things happen, because you're not going to be happy unless you try to start somewhere. If you don't try, and make all these excuses when you're really just scared, then you're not giving yourself a chance."
Translation: I am so determined to show people how strong I am, that I am afraid to show them that I am only human, too. I'm afraid to cry in front of people, including my own mother. I apologized for crying in the doctor's office last week because I was disgustingly sick post surgery, and I shouldn't have. I don't show human emotions, because it's been my experience that when I do, someone takes them and walks all over them. Yet, it's a guy who tells me I have this issue. There is something to this, and something in him that is special. I just know it.
Today I realized that I blame my dad for all of this, and I should. I have a right to. My dad put those walls up, and I am fighting and working to tear them down. I promise you that I am, but my life has become this big game of what I can and can not control. I'm afraid to trust anyone fully, or to give up control of my emotions, because someone, especially men, always finds a way to use them and twist them into what they want.
I don't want to be this way forever, nor do I want this for myself. I am working as hard as I can to be the best person that I can be, and I always will. I need to let go a little, but also stay smart about things. I need to trust my gut and instincts. It will work out if I do.
I am consistently inspired by the friend who the initial email in question went out to today, and I wish her all the best. She is a strong, beautiful woman who feels the same way I do about things, and I hope that we can help each other learn to be better people. She deserves to be happy in every way possible, and I hope that one day soon we are sitting in either Chicago or New York, drinking tea and talking about the amazing people we have in our lives, and how happy we are.
I also was very impressed by a young lady of under fifteen who broke up with her boyfriend today because he just didn't treat her like she was his girlfriend, and he also was texting other girls. She also said that he was just too dramatic. In a world of high school times and premature relationships, this was so refreshing to hear. That girl is going to be a strong, amazing woman and I can't wait to see her all grown up. If she's got a head on her shoulders now, she will be a force to be reckoned with soon enough.
Ladies, just stay strong. I know I say this often, but it's okay to be fearless, because fearless isn't about having no fears. It's about facing the ones you do have, and that's all I'm trying to do. That's all anyone's trying to do. It separates strength from weakness, and it makes us who we are. Because in that defining moment, who we are is all we have left.
That will remain my dirty little secret, because it has to do with someone else as well as myself, and isn't really my back story to tell. I just like teasing all of you.
What I wanted to write about really isn't funny, nor is it something that everyone can relate to at this point in their lives, but at one point I know that everyone goes through this. Currently, both my friend and I are going through times that are tough, and for different reasons. I sympathize with her in a way that I know I'll never understand her exact pain, but I do always wish her the best.
While I was e-mailing her today, I didn't know what to say except for to send her some words that someone else passed along to me, and I would like to pass along to you. I will tell you my personal experiences that go along with how I ended up being told these things, but not hers. Her story is not mine to tell, and I respect her privacy with everything in me.
I have been through a lot in my short life, but I know that everyone has, even though all experiences are different. When you break it down, though, we all feel the same things. In different ways, true, but the feelings are still the same basics. Hurt, pain, love...they know no boundaries, and through these things we learn to connect with others. Our experiences with each help us find friends, lovers, and enemies. Our feelings tell us what is right and wrong, good and bad.
Last Sunday I was sitting at my computer completely frightened because of the surgery I was about to go into. Fear is a very strong emotion, and it often sparks fear of other events that aren't even currently taking place. It's like a rolling snowball. Fear just grows and grows, catching everything in its path, and playing with your mind. We all have fear, and I feel like it is often the strongest, most dominant emotion. Whether we all realize it or not, we are only bound by fear. What we can and can't do is determined by it, and it can become a sad picture if you let it overcome you. The trick is learning how not to, or learning how to work through it.
I was left to wonder last week where my big girl panties were, so to speak. I am used to be strong through whatever I'm going through. I had been through things far worse than Septoplasty in the last year, and it was boggling my mind why I was so afraid. I wanted my big girl panties back, and I wanted them back right at that very second, so I expressed this to a friend of mine in complete frustration over why I was so scared. I felt like I was being stupid. He, in turn, did not. Instead, he said this to me.
"You don't always have you wear your big girl panties. It's okay to cry and be vulnerable. It's okay to be scared and break down. It's a completely human thing to do, so if you need to cry or hide, give yourself time to heal, and then come back and join life. There's nothing wrong with that. You are a strong woman. Everyone knows that. You don't have to keep going full force fearless all of the time."
This is only part one of what he told me. Part two gets into a completely different subject.
I am known for being an open person, one of who tries to listen no matter what you have to say. I am not always the most perceptive person, and I don't always know the right thing to say, but I try. Ever since I remember I have been the go to girl for bad stories and things that don't work out for others. In a way, this has made me build up walls that no one can climb. Very gray, concrete walls that don't allow for absorption or entrance. Sometimes I don't always see this in myself, and I think that I'm doing pretty okay, but then I was reminded that sometimes I am just not. I don't have to be strong all the time. It is inhuman, and it took the following words from the same person to remind me of this.
"You don't realize it, but you have all these walls up and you're so defensive with people. You keep coming at people with this unbelievable internal strength until you've turned them inside out just to keep yourself from getting hurt. Step back from that. Just let things happen, because you're not going to be happy unless you try to start somewhere. If you don't try, and make all these excuses when you're really just scared, then you're not giving yourself a chance."
Translation: I am so determined to show people how strong I am, that I am afraid to show them that I am only human, too. I'm afraid to cry in front of people, including my own mother. I apologized for crying in the doctor's office last week because I was disgustingly sick post surgery, and I shouldn't have. I don't show human emotions, because it's been my experience that when I do, someone takes them and walks all over them. Yet, it's a guy who tells me I have this issue. There is something to this, and something in him that is special. I just know it.
Today I realized that I blame my dad for all of this, and I should. I have a right to. My dad put those walls up, and I am fighting and working to tear them down. I promise you that I am, but my life has become this big game of what I can and can not control. I'm afraid to trust anyone fully, or to give up control of my emotions, because someone, especially men, always finds a way to use them and twist them into what they want.
I don't want to be this way forever, nor do I want this for myself. I am working as hard as I can to be the best person that I can be, and I always will. I need to let go a little, but also stay smart about things. I need to trust my gut and instincts. It will work out if I do.
I am consistently inspired by the friend who the initial email in question went out to today, and I wish her all the best. She is a strong, beautiful woman who feels the same way I do about things, and I hope that we can help each other learn to be better people. She deserves to be happy in every way possible, and I hope that one day soon we are sitting in either Chicago or New York, drinking tea and talking about the amazing people we have in our lives, and how happy we are.
I also was very impressed by a young lady of under fifteen who broke up with her boyfriend today because he just didn't treat her like she was his girlfriend, and he also was texting other girls. She also said that he was just too dramatic. In a world of high school times and premature relationships, this was so refreshing to hear. That girl is going to be a strong, amazing woman and I can't wait to see her all grown up. If she's got a head on her shoulders now, she will be a force to be reckoned with soon enough.
Ladies, just stay strong. I know I say this often, but it's okay to be fearless, because fearless isn't about having no fears. It's about facing the ones you do have, and that's all I'm trying to do. That's all anyone's trying to do. It separates strength from weakness, and it makes us who we are. Because in that defining moment, who we are is all we have left.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
My Dog Likes to Put His Toys On the Coffee Table
But that’s really not the point of this blog.
I wanted to update everyone on my surgery and the ins and outs of it. I’m not going to lie. I have been online since my surgery, and I’ve been up and going pretty well, all things considered, but I just couldn’t bring myself to write this up in a blog.
My heart has been heavy over the past couple of days. I’m realizing that there’s people I have in my life just because I don’t know how to let go of them. They are not the same people I became close to, fell in love with, but now I’ve fallen out of love with them. There’s still a part of me that will always want them to be close to me, but near to me is not where they can be.
I have two letters I wrote, each to different people, and maybe one day I will post them on here as open letters. They’re some of my best writing, and maybe it will help those of you wondering what my novel is going to be like, or what kind of writing I can really do, understand it all a little better. Ultimately they are my letters; so it is my choice. One is so fitting to my novel that I’m considering using it for that, but also wondering in how bad of taste that would be.
Anyway, back to the surgery. If I got into all of the above, I would collapse in tears before I got much further, and that’s not cool for anyone.
As you all know, I went in early Monday morning for Septoplasty. I had a deviated septum and normally I wouldn’t worry about getting it fixed, except I couldn’t breathe or snot out of the one side of my nose entirely. There, I said it; snot.
I was pretty nervous and had read a lot about this procedure only to find that there were such mixed reviews on it that they were no help. I don’t like going into something when I don’t really know what I’m getting into, so this was no exception. The early morning drive in was scary, but was even more scary was the hour and a half wait in a hospital bed with an IV in my hand. That was the worst. Just waiting until they come and get you to take you in, because your mind plays a billion tricks on you.
I tried to calm down by watching some biography on the Simpson sisters, and an inside thing about Vegas; two things I love. I also spoke with the anesthesiologist because they were knocking me out cold and I tend to have issues when they put tubes down my throat, which they’d have to do. We got that straightened out, as well as the issue of my low cortisol.
I knew going into this that the procedure was slightly risky. I do have some issues with my heart, but we got clearance for me to do this procedure. What I didn’t think would end up being my biggest feat was the low cortisol. Although I did tell the anesthesiologist about it, it wasn’t until then and there with him in the room that I was told this could cause a problem, something that, in light of the heart issue, I had not thought about. He said he would make sure to give me some steroids and it would all be okay.
It was not all okay, however, I don’t necessarily think that was his fault. Had I known what an issue the low cortisol was going to be, I would have hands down not had the procedure done until this was further taken care of. Let’s just say that I had a horrifically hard time coming out of anesthesia and leave it at that, because in all honesty I never wish to retype just how horrific this event was. I just can not go there.
And the day and night that followed were far, far worse than anything I had anticipated. Apparently, the extra stress that was put on my body by the anesthesia, the surgery, and the packing I had to have in my nose for the first day, was too much for my body to take without the proper amount of cortisol to run it. I was freezing in eighty some degree weather, going into little seizures and spasms, and was disgustingly sick in my stomach, to put it all rather nicely.
By the time I made it to the doctors on Tuesday to get the packing out, I was literally crying like a baby in his office. Then, while he was taking the packing out, I had to be a bleeder, but I expected it. I spent the next hour in the office crying while we tried to get my nose to stop bleeding. It was a bad scene.
The doctor, though, is the most awesome doctor ever. He felt really badly that I felt that bad, and also said that even with the low cortisol, he wouldn’t have anticipated my body to have reacted the way that it did. He felt horrible and told me that hopefully, with the packing out, I should feel a lot better because now I would be able to breathe out of my nose, so that would take a lot of stress off my body. Let me tell you, it was like instant relief.
The fun part about this was that I wasn’t really bothered by the fact that I couldn’t breathe. I was one of the few people who the packing did not bother. I wasn’t all that miserable with it on, because I was miserable in some many other ways. Little did I know that although I wasn’t consciously bothered by it, the doctor was right, not being able to breathe had put that much extra stress on my body, because once it was out, I began to feel a billion and seven times better. And that’s low balling it.
With the packing out, things were really looking up. I had some pain in my nose and sinus pain while it drained, oh, and I was really tired, but I could deal with that. That was totally fine, as long as I didn’t feel sick like I had. The drainage down my throat of the blood and mucus was a little gross, but I made sure to eat every couple of hours and it seemed to absorb it from my stomach, so that was all kinds of happy.
All in all, it’s been six days and I don’t feel at all that bad. Sure, my nose is a little sore and I do still have slight drainage and some sinus pain. I’m a little more tired than usual, but not much. Over the counter Tylenol takes care of my pain, and has since day one. The doctor did a fantastic job. The pain in my nose was never a problem. It wasn’t any more pain than I was used to having with my sinuses being blocked. The doctor had told me that my nose was far worse than he thought after he got up it, and he still did a fantastic job.
The moral of the story, had I not had the low cortisol / heart issues, I would have been one hundred percent fine with the surgery. It was not a hard surgery, my complaints post surgery never had anything to do with my nose, because I simply was not in that much pain in that aspect and still am not. I would do it again if I had to, as long as my cortisol was fixed, because until then, I am never going totally under any kind of anesthesia again.
Oh, and just for future reference, all is well and good as long as you don’t touch your nose, etc, which is common sense. However, my mom’s cat thought it would be fun to head butt me. That was not cool. Ouch. And also (I know this is gross), flies really want to know what’s going on up there since they smell blood. Just eww.
I did get a good picture, though. I realize that this is probably a really embarrassing picture to put online, but it’s too funny not to. This picture was from my first night home and I was miserable. (Can you tell?) I encourage you all to laugh at my misery. Even now, just six days out, I think it’s hilarious.
I also took some other really cute and fun pictures to add to the blog over the past few days. Please keep in mind that these were taken on my Blackberry, so the resolution isn’t great. This blog needs some cute after a story like this, though, right?
This first picture is of my cat Booger-Booger. He got his name because we went to adopt him and when I picked him up for the first time, he sneezed all over me twice. His real name is Riley, but I don’t think we’ve every called him that. Anyway, he is sleeping upside down with his little front paw over his eyes. Everyone all together now. Aww...
This next one is of Greta Hayley and Stitch. Stitch was named after the Disney character because when we first got him he liked to get under the couch and crawl upside down over the length of it. He kind of named himself. In this picture, Greta is both looking at the camera, and hugging Stitch. I came into the living room and they were just sleeping like this. If this isn’t cat and dog love, I don’t know what is. Again...aww...
This next picture is actually a set of two pictures. The first one is a full view and the second a close up, one in which I promise I did not alter, but I understand how it looks photoshopped because of the weird quality to it from my Blackberry. I figured I needed to show the full view first, or you all would be like, what the heck is going on? You’re still going to ask that, but let me just clear it up for you. This is Greta Hayley’s favorite position to lay in
This now concludes the blog. I don’t know why I felt it necessary to announce that, but I will try to get back into the post surgery swing of things. I am having a little trouble doing this, and am told I’ll probably feel a little off for two to three weeks. I have some blogs written up and a ton to write about, so we’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, please check out It’s Traffic Time. Feel free to follow the instructions and e-mail me your own story to be put up on the blog. Really, I’ll love you forever in a very non creepy and platonic way.
I wanted to update everyone on my surgery and the ins and outs of it. I’m not going to lie. I have been online since my surgery, and I’ve been up and going pretty well, all things considered, but I just couldn’t bring myself to write this up in a blog.
My heart has been heavy over the past couple of days. I’m realizing that there’s people I have in my life just because I don’t know how to let go of them. They are not the same people I became close to, fell in love with, but now I’ve fallen out of love with them. There’s still a part of me that will always want them to be close to me, but near to me is not where they can be.
I have two letters I wrote, each to different people, and maybe one day I will post them on here as open letters. They’re some of my best writing, and maybe it will help those of you wondering what my novel is going to be like, or what kind of writing I can really do, understand it all a little better. Ultimately they are my letters; so it is my choice. One is so fitting to my novel that I’m considering using it for that, but also wondering in how bad of taste that would be.
Anyway, back to the surgery. If I got into all of the above, I would collapse in tears before I got much further, and that’s not cool for anyone.
As you all know, I went in early Monday morning for Septoplasty. I had a deviated septum and normally I wouldn’t worry about getting it fixed, except I couldn’t breathe or snot out of the one side of my nose entirely. There, I said it; snot.
I was pretty nervous and had read a lot about this procedure only to find that there were such mixed reviews on it that they were no help. I don’t like going into something when I don’t really know what I’m getting into, so this was no exception. The early morning drive in was scary, but was even more scary was the hour and a half wait in a hospital bed with an IV in my hand. That was the worst. Just waiting until they come and get you to take you in, because your mind plays a billion tricks on you.
I tried to calm down by watching some biography on the Simpson sisters, and an inside thing about Vegas; two things I love. I also spoke with the anesthesiologist because they were knocking me out cold and I tend to have issues when they put tubes down my throat, which they’d have to do. We got that straightened out, as well as the issue of my low cortisol.
I knew going into this that the procedure was slightly risky. I do have some issues with my heart, but we got clearance for me to do this procedure. What I didn’t think would end up being my biggest feat was the low cortisol. Although I did tell the anesthesiologist about it, it wasn’t until then and there with him in the room that I was told this could cause a problem, something that, in light of the heart issue, I had not thought about. He said he would make sure to give me some steroids and it would all be okay.
It was not all okay, however, I don’t necessarily think that was his fault. Had I known what an issue the low cortisol was going to be, I would have hands down not had the procedure done until this was further taken care of. Let’s just say that I had a horrifically hard time coming out of anesthesia and leave it at that, because in all honesty I never wish to retype just how horrific this event was. I just can not go there.
And the day and night that followed were far, far worse than anything I had anticipated. Apparently, the extra stress that was put on my body by the anesthesia, the surgery, and the packing I had to have in my nose for the first day, was too much for my body to take without the proper amount of cortisol to run it. I was freezing in eighty some degree weather, going into little seizures and spasms, and was disgustingly sick in my stomach, to put it all rather nicely.
By the time I made it to the doctors on Tuesday to get the packing out, I was literally crying like a baby in his office. Then, while he was taking the packing out, I had to be a bleeder, but I expected it. I spent the next hour in the office crying while we tried to get my nose to stop bleeding. It was a bad scene.
The doctor, though, is the most awesome doctor ever. He felt really badly that I felt that bad, and also said that even with the low cortisol, he wouldn’t have anticipated my body to have reacted the way that it did. He felt horrible and told me that hopefully, with the packing out, I should feel a lot better because now I would be able to breathe out of my nose, so that would take a lot of stress off my body. Let me tell you, it was like instant relief.
The fun part about this was that I wasn’t really bothered by the fact that I couldn’t breathe. I was one of the few people who the packing did not bother. I wasn’t all that miserable with it on, because I was miserable in some many other ways. Little did I know that although I wasn’t consciously bothered by it, the doctor was right, not being able to breathe had put that much extra stress on my body, because once it was out, I began to feel a billion and seven times better. And that’s low balling it.
With the packing out, things were really looking up. I had some pain in my nose and sinus pain while it drained, oh, and I was really tired, but I could deal with that. That was totally fine, as long as I didn’t feel sick like I had. The drainage down my throat of the blood and mucus was a little gross, but I made sure to eat every couple of hours and it seemed to absorb it from my stomach, so that was all kinds of happy.
All in all, it’s been six days and I don’t feel at all that bad. Sure, my nose is a little sore and I do still have slight drainage and some sinus pain. I’m a little more tired than usual, but not much. Over the counter Tylenol takes care of my pain, and has since day one. The doctor did a fantastic job. The pain in my nose was never a problem. It wasn’t any more pain than I was used to having with my sinuses being blocked. The doctor had told me that my nose was far worse than he thought after he got up it, and he still did a fantastic job.
The moral of the story, had I not had the low cortisol / heart issues, I would have been one hundred percent fine with the surgery. It was not a hard surgery, my complaints post surgery never had anything to do with my nose, because I simply was not in that much pain in that aspect and still am not. I would do it again if I had to, as long as my cortisol was fixed, because until then, I am never going totally under any kind of anesthesia again.
Oh, and just for future reference, all is well and good as long as you don’t touch your nose, etc, which is common sense. However, my mom’s cat thought it would be fun to head butt me. That was not cool. Ouch. And also (I know this is gross), flies really want to know what’s going on up there since they smell blood. Just eww.
I did get a good picture, though. I realize that this is probably a really embarrassing picture to put online, but it’s too funny not to. This picture was from my first night home and I was miserable. (Can you tell?) I encourage you all to laugh at my misery. Even now, just six days out, I think it’s hilarious.
I also took some other really cute and fun pictures to add to the blog over the past few days. Please keep in mind that these were taken on my Blackberry, so the resolution isn’t great. This blog needs some cute after a story like this, though, right?
This first picture is of my cat Booger-Booger. He got his name because we went to adopt him and when I picked him up for the first time, he sneezed all over me twice. His real name is Riley, but I don’t think we’ve every called him that. Anyway, he is sleeping upside down with his little front paw over his eyes. Everyone all together now. Aww...
This next one is of Greta Hayley and Stitch. Stitch was named after the Disney character because when we first got him he liked to get under the couch and crawl upside down over the length of it. He kind of named himself. In this picture, Greta is both looking at the camera, and hugging Stitch. I came into the living room and they were just sleeping like this. If this isn’t cat and dog love, I don’t know what is. Again...aww...
This next picture is actually a set of two pictures. The first one is a full view and the second a close up, one in which I promise I did not alter, but I understand how it looks photoshopped because of the weird quality to it from my Blackberry. I figured I needed to show the full view first, or you all would be like, what the heck is going on? You’re still going to ask that, but let me just clear it up for you. This is Greta Hayley’s favorite position to lay in
This now concludes the blog. I don’t know why I felt it necessary to announce that, but I will try to get back into the post surgery swing of things. I am having a little trouble doing this, and am told I’ll probably feel a little off for two to three weeks. I have some blogs written up and a ton to write about, so we’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, please check out It’s Traffic Time. Feel free to follow the instructions and e-mail me your own story to be put up on the blog. Really, I’ll love you forever in a very non creepy and platonic way.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Big Girl Panties...Where Are You?
I just wanted to get on and let everyone know what's going on with me. Also, I have a story to tell that involves Aunt Bev and technology, so hold on to your hats, it's going to be a delightfully bumpy ride.
First and foremost, however, I am having surgery tomorrow. It is nothing major. I am just getting the deviated septum corrected in my nose, as well as having a loose blood vessel in my nose taken care of. I'm just thankful that the blood vessel decided to shake itself loose at a time when I'm already going in to have a procedure done. Now no one has to go up my nose twice. (Did that sound wrong to anyone else?)
I'm a little nervous about this just because I'm not a fan of the feeling you get after you wake up from anesthesia, but then again, who is? On the flip side, I've never been able to breathe properly out of my nose, and the loose blood vessel hurts like a son of a gun (do guns really have sons?), so this is also a blessing to be able to get this done. It's apparently a very easy procedure, so hopefully I'll be back up and ready to lick the world (which is probably how I got sick in the first place), and write blogs soon. Then again, I hear sometimes recovery is a bitch. (Mean bitch, go away.)
Just in case, though, because sometimes my body doesn't react like it should to things, you all know where I've disappeared to, and I apologize in advance. Especially considering I have several blogs typed out to post, but just keep finding new things to tell you. I have a feeling those already finished blogs will be the first to find their way up here until I'm back to being as good as I can get. Knowing me, I'll change my mind nine times. Meh.
I just also want to point out that I realize in getting this surgery done that sometimes doctors will reshape your nose. My nose has never been perfect, but I'm totally okay with that. It's fine how it is. Because of where it is slightly misshaped, it may have to be altered a little, but I've been friends with my nose for twenty three years. I kind of like its imperfection. Other than that, though, I look forward to being able to sing more clearly without the whole "I can't get enough air and my nose sometimes sounds clogged" thing holding me back. Whoot! (Whoot isn't really a word, I know. Does anyone know where it came from then?)
Ooh, and this is supposed to cure my sleep apnea. I will hug the doctor relentlessly until he peels me off of him if it does so. Just saying.
I am so nervous. This is stupid. Where in the heck are my big girl panties when I need them? Yesh!
But anyway, enough about things that are making me nervous, and making me wonder if I'm nuts and should cancel the surgery and run far, far away. (For whatever reason, this is freaking me out. I've had far, far worse done to me, yet THIS is freaking me out. I do not get myself. Me, myself and I; not friends at the moment.)
Aunt Bev's been having some issues with her computer for awhile, as I had mentioned in a much earlier post. All things aside, the computer is more ancient than a bunch of T-Rex, but it still, for the most part, worked for what she needed it to do. That was after I had gotten finished with its bad ass last time. It had contracted several viruses due to a lack of virus protection, all of which I had to physically remove one by one with the help of a virus protection that I brought over and installed. I deleted all the other "free" spyware and adware removals off the computer, since the virus protection I put on had all of that, and often when you get more than one of the same thing running, they tend to cancel each other out. Bada bing - bada boom, she was in business!
That was until last week. Now, the business has a large CLOSED sign in front of it.
She kept complaining that some sex website kept coming up every single time she tried to access her computer. I told her that was easy enough, just to click out of it. She said she couldn't, which perplexed me so I headed over. When I got a good look at her computer, what was actually happening was that the sex site wasn't so much of a pop up as it was a re-route. No matter what site she went to, the entire site would go down and the whole browser would open up this sex site. If she went back, it just did it again. If she refreshed, same thing. If she closed it out, well, you do the math. Lights out. She was stuck.
I could not, at first, figure out why this was happening. I had tried to get into her install log to see what programs she had on there with no avail. I used to work for her husband, so knowing that, even though he has two computers of his own, he uses hers, I suspected he had downloaded something since he's trigger happy, and gave the computer a virus, one that slipped through the virus protection. He's a freaking genius when it comes to technology.
I use the term genius loosely. My dog who can't type has a better chance with technology than he does.
Finally, after having no avail with the install log, as it kept claiming it could not be found, I went straight to the "add/remove" programs. There is where I found my arch nemesis, the creator of all problems. The stupid thing her genius husband downloaded because I knew she wouldn't have done it. Let's just say thank God I am not a violent person or I would have nom nom nomed his head off. Really, all I did was swear at him inside of my head, but I wanted to do it out loud. I didn't, though. *Sigh*
In the add/remove file was a "free adware remover." Now, computer common sense would tell you that if you have a virus protection physically installed on there that was store bought, one that already removes adware, you wouldn't need to download a free one from the internet. Also, the strong words of warning I left behind also told him that like a freaking flashing Vegas billboard sign. Yet, he has no common sense and selective hearing, so I don't know why I was surprised to find that he had done whatever the heck he wanted anyway. That's all that man seems to do.
I suspected immediately that the adware remover was laced with a virus, so I played around with it. My suspicions were confirmed immediately. He had gotten it off of a third party sight, and when he went to download it, he agreed to disable the virus protection, meaning he let the virus right into the computer. Worse yet, it was a hybrid worm that was both eating at the computer, and keeping Aunt Bev from going on any sites by triggering the sex site to pop up.
And let me tell you, I could not.get.this.puppy.off. The normal removal didn't work. It straight up refused to remove it. I tried to back door it by going into the install log again, and that's when I realized that the install log had been wiped out by this worm. This also explained her programs that had mysteriously gone missing one by one over the last few days. Try as I might, the computer was a goner.
This is where it gets even better. Aunt Bev doesn't know how to download stuff, and even if she did, she's not dumb enough to download something when I both told her and showed her that what I put on her computer had adware removal on it. This being said, she approached her husband. He denied putting in on there. It's one of those situations where that was just ignorant and disrespectful on his part. Only a child would do that. It was obviously him. It was downloaded from his account on the computer, and there's no one else there that knows his password and of could have done it. I am beyond pissed at him.
But you know, karma is a bitch. He bought a computer a few months back claiming someone "gave" it to him, but we all know better. He's paid out twice what the computer is worth to get someone to fix it, and to buy parts for it. It still doesn't work. The problem, you ask? The internet isn't working on it. The reason, he has DSL installed in his office, however he doesn't have a DSL modem. He's had several computer techs out there and not one of them can figure this out. NOT ONE. I would be nice and tell him this, and then help him get a modem, but I am quite frankly done being nice to him when he's treated me like a doormat. To him, I'm just some stupid girl that he can push around until he needs something. This is also the reason that someone else who used to help him with computers and also knows what's going on, refuses to help him fix it. I'm amused.
Needless to say through all of this, Aunt Bev needed a new computer. Knowing that I was having my surgery and didn't know when I'd be up and rearing to go again, we went looking at Best Buy today. Now, seeing as I was going with Aunt Bev, I expected this to be an adventure. The biggest adventure ended up being three things. The fact that her husband ran around her house and refused to put pants on, so I had to see a sixty three year old in his underwear repeatedly. The fact that for whatever reason on this green earth the boy who I have yet to write a story about, decided it was a good idea to talk to me after he's treated me like I was lower on the totem pole than shit. And my never ending ADHD. It was an eventful day.
Aunt Bev doesn't know really anything about computers, so this wasn't something she could do herself. What she did know was that she was very, very leery of Windows Vista. After going to Best Buy and being told that all computers come with Vista, which we knew, but that now you could upgrade to the brand spanking new Windows 7, this just caused more problems.
Vista is a mess and a half. I can say this from both personal and work experiences with it. The system is still incompatible with a lot of programs, printers, etc. It also doesn't do most of what it's supposed to. It has a mind of its own and it really doesn't care what you think. (I had one friend claim she loved Vista until it locked her out of everything. Then, she still refused to hate it because of her previous consistent bragging about how she got the "only version of Vista that worked." Yeah, right. I wonder if she's still telling herself that.) Maybe Windows 7 could be better, but at the same time, it's just brand new, meaning it's not compatible with a ton of stuff. It's just one big PC nightmare, especially considering how quickly Vista went on and then off the market. Could we trust Windows 7?
This all confused Aunt Bev more and brought us to the Mac. Last year when I was computer shopping and Vista was the only thing on the market, I literally bought a Mac just to avoid Vista. I refused to deal with that devil horned program. I would not do it. I knew nothing about Macs, but I'd rather learn a whole new system than deal with Vista. I had more than enough experiences with it, and worked at Best Buy when it came out. If I had a penny for every single time someone swore at me while complaining about "the computer someone who wasn't me sold them with Vista on it," I'd be a freaking millionaire. Move over, Donald. You know?
Luckily, an awesome kid I used to work with was at Best Buy the day I bought my computer and totally showed me the ropes of a Mac, and sold it to me. When I first got it I was all cranky trying to figure it out until I realized that I was doing too much work to try to get into my programs. Windows makes you do more steps than are actually necessary to get into something, whereas with a Mac, everything is simple and easy to get into. Once I figured that out, I never looked back.
My Mac runs better and faster than any PC I've ever owned. It's reliable. It recognizes printers, scanners, phones, cameras, you name it, without ever having to install a disk on the computer like you would with Windows. It's just that easy. It hasn't slowed down, froze up, or any of those things that my PCs always did when I had them for this long and compiled as much stuff on them as I have on my Mac now. And the best part? I would have sunk hundreds of dollars into software with a PC, whereas the Mac came with everything I needed.
I was also pleased to find out that the PC I was going to purchase is a big flop. They are now on clearance for less than half the price that they were ten months ago. My friend bought one a few months back and it's already gone bad. From the stories I've heard, hers isn't the only one. So really, I dodged a bullet.
Which brings me back to Aunt Bev. This is what she is trying to do. She's all about the Mac, they're just more pricey than PCs. Honestly, I think they're two hundred percent worth the money. You get double the return on them, and I would never even consider going back to a PC ever again. Even if someone offered me a million bucks with the stipulation that I just could not use Mac ever again, I'd tell them to eat it. I am a writer. It is hard to get anything done without a decent computer. I am unable to consider anything with Windows a decent computer for me. It just simply does not serve my needs the way a Mac does.
The thing with Aunt Bev is that she wants a large Mac with a big screen. (Because she's not getting any younger. That's what she keeps saying.) It's going to run her a good chunk of money. Also, the Mac comes with a ton of stuff she won't use. For me, the Mac was ideal. For her, no matter what model she gets, it's overkill.
But she does not want anything with Windows. She hopes Windows eats dirt. (Okay, I don't know what exactly it is that she hopes for Windows, but I added that just for extra oomph.) I think she is ready to spend the extra money, because she understands it's an investment. At the same time she is so confused because I threw so much at her today. And no matter what she gets, I'm going to have to teach her to use it.
I will let you all know what she decides. I am super eager to find out myself. *Bites nails*
First and foremost, however, I am having surgery tomorrow. It is nothing major. I am just getting the deviated septum corrected in my nose, as well as having a loose blood vessel in my nose taken care of. I'm just thankful that the blood vessel decided to shake itself loose at a time when I'm already going in to have a procedure done. Now no one has to go up my nose twice. (Did that sound wrong to anyone else?)
I'm a little nervous about this just because I'm not a fan of the feeling you get after you wake up from anesthesia, but then again, who is? On the flip side, I've never been able to breathe properly out of my nose, and the loose blood vessel hurts like a son of a gun (do guns really have sons?), so this is also a blessing to be able to get this done. It's apparently a very easy procedure, so hopefully I'll be back up and ready to lick the world (which is probably how I got sick in the first place), and write blogs soon. Then again, I hear sometimes recovery is a bitch. (Mean bitch, go away.)
Just in case, though, because sometimes my body doesn't react like it should to things, you all know where I've disappeared to, and I apologize in advance. Especially considering I have several blogs typed out to post, but just keep finding new things to tell you. I have a feeling those already finished blogs will be the first to find their way up here until I'm back to being as good as I can get. Knowing me, I'll change my mind nine times. Meh.
I just also want to point out that I realize in getting this surgery done that sometimes doctors will reshape your nose. My nose has never been perfect, but I'm totally okay with that. It's fine how it is. Because of where it is slightly misshaped, it may have to be altered a little, but I've been friends with my nose for twenty three years. I kind of like its imperfection. Other than that, though, I look forward to being able to sing more clearly without the whole "I can't get enough air and my nose sometimes sounds clogged" thing holding me back. Whoot! (Whoot isn't really a word, I know. Does anyone know where it came from then?)
Ooh, and this is supposed to cure my sleep apnea. I will hug the doctor relentlessly until he peels me off of him if it does so. Just saying.
I am so nervous. This is stupid. Where in the heck are my big girl panties when I need them? Yesh!
But anyway, enough about things that are making me nervous, and making me wonder if I'm nuts and should cancel the surgery and run far, far away. (For whatever reason, this is freaking me out. I've had far, far worse done to me, yet THIS is freaking me out. I do not get myself. Me, myself and I; not friends at the moment.)
Aunt Bev's been having some issues with her computer for awhile, as I had mentioned in a much earlier post. All things aside, the computer is more ancient than a bunch of T-Rex, but it still, for the most part, worked for what she needed it to do. That was after I had gotten finished with its bad ass last time. It had contracted several viruses due to a lack of virus protection, all of which I had to physically remove one by one with the help of a virus protection that I brought over and installed. I deleted all the other "free" spyware and adware removals off the computer, since the virus protection I put on had all of that, and often when you get more than one of the same thing running, they tend to cancel each other out. Bada bing - bada boom, she was in business!
That was until last week. Now, the business has a large CLOSED sign in front of it.
She kept complaining that some sex website kept coming up every single time she tried to access her computer. I told her that was easy enough, just to click out of it. She said she couldn't, which perplexed me so I headed over. When I got a good look at her computer, what was actually happening was that the sex site wasn't so much of a pop up as it was a re-route. No matter what site she went to, the entire site would go down and the whole browser would open up this sex site. If she went back, it just did it again. If she refreshed, same thing. If she closed it out, well, you do the math. Lights out. She was stuck.
I could not, at first, figure out why this was happening. I had tried to get into her install log to see what programs she had on there with no avail. I used to work for her husband, so knowing that, even though he has two computers of his own, he uses hers, I suspected he had downloaded something since he's trigger happy, and gave the computer a virus, one that slipped through the virus protection. He's a freaking genius when it comes to technology.
I use the term genius loosely. My dog who can't type has a better chance with technology than he does.
Finally, after having no avail with the install log, as it kept claiming it could not be found, I went straight to the "add/remove" programs. There is where I found my arch nemesis, the creator of all problems. The stupid thing her genius husband downloaded because I knew she wouldn't have done it. Let's just say thank God I am not a violent person or I would have nom nom nomed his head off. Really, all I did was swear at him inside of my head, but I wanted to do it out loud. I didn't, though. *Sigh*
In the add/remove file was a "free adware remover." Now, computer common sense would tell you that if you have a virus protection physically installed on there that was store bought, one that already removes adware, you wouldn't need to download a free one from the internet. Also, the strong words of warning I left behind also told him that like a freaking flashing Vegas billboard sign. Yet, he has no common sense and selective hearing, so I don't know why I was surprised to find that he had done whatever the heck he wanted anyway. That's all that man seems to do.
I suspected immediately that the adware remover was laced with a virus, so I played around with it. My suspicions were confirmed immediately. He had gotten it off of a third party sight, and when he went to download it, he agreed to disable the virus protection, meaning he let the virus right into the computer. Worse yet, it was a hybrid worm that was both eating at the computer, and keeping Aunt Bev from going on any sites by triggering the sex site to pop up.
And let me tell you, I could not.get.this.puppy.off. The normal removal didn't work. It straight up refused to remove it. I tried to back door it by going into the install log again, and that's when I realized that the install log had been wiped out by this worm. This also explained her programs that had mysteriously gone missing one by one over the last few days. Try as I might, the computer was a goner.
This is where it gets even better. Aunt Bev doesn't know how to download stuff, and even if she did, she's not dumb enough to download something when I both told her and showed her that what I put on her computer had adware removal on it. This being said, she approached her husband. He denied putting in on there. It's one of those situations where that was just ignorant and disrespectful on his part. Only a child would do that. It was obviously him. It was downloaded from his account on the computer, and there's no one else there that knows his password and of could have done it. I am beyond pissed at him.
But you know, karma is a bitch. He bought a computer a few months back claiming someone "gave" it to him, but we all know better. He's paid out twice what the computer is worth to get someone to fix it, and to buy parts for it. It still doesn't work. The problem, you ask? The internet isn't working on it. The reason, he has DSL installed in his office, however he doesn't have a DSL modem. He's had several computer techs out there and not one of them can figure this out. NOT ONE. I would be nice and tell him this, and then help him get a modem, but I am quite frankly done being nice to him when he's treated me like a doormat. To him, I'm just some stupid girl that he can push around until he needs something. This is also the reason that someone else who used to help him with computers and also knows what's going on, refuses to help him fix it. I'm amused.
Needless to say through all of this, Aunt Bev needed a new computer. Knowing that I was having my surgery and didn't know when I'd be up and rearing to go again, we went looking at Best Buy today. Now, seeing as I was going with Aunt Bev, I expected this to be an adventure. The biggest adventure ended up being three things. The fact that her husband ran around her house and refused to put pants on, so I had to see a sixty three year old in his underwear repeatedly. The fact that for whatever reason on this green earth the boy who I have yet to write a story about, decided it was a good idea to talk to me after he's treated me like I was lower on the totem pole than shit. And my never ending ADHD. It was an eventful day.
Aunt Bev doesn't know really anything about computers, so this wasn't something she could do herself. What she did know was that she was very, very leery of Windows Vista. After going to Best Buy and being told that all computers come with Vista, which we knew, but that now you could upgrade to the brand spanking new Windows 7, this just caused more problems.
Vista is a mess and a half. I can say this from both personal and work experiences with it. The system is still incompatible with a lot of programs, printers, etc. It also doesn't do most of what it's supposed to. It has a mind of its own and it really doesn't care what you think. (I had one friend claim she loved Vista until it locked her out of everything. Then, she still refused to hate it because of her previous consistent bragging about how she got the "only version of Vista that worked." Yeah, right. I wonder if she's still telling herself that.) Maybe Windows 7 could be better, but at the same time, it's just brand new, meaning it's not compatible with a ton of stuff. It's just one big PC nightmare, especially considering how quickly Vista went on and then off the market. Could we trust Windows 7?
This all confused Aunt Bev more and brought us to the Mac. Last year when I was computer shopping and Vista was the only thing on the market, I literally bought a Mac just to avoid Vista. I refused to deal with that devil horned program. I would not do it. I knew nothing about Macs, but I'd rather learn a whole new system than deal with Vista. I had more than enough experiences with it, and worked at Best Buy when it came out. If I had a penny for every single time someone swore at me while complaining about "the computer someone who wasn't me sold them with Vista on it," I'd be a freaking millionaire. Move over, Donald. You know?
Luckily, an awesome kid I used to work with was at Best Buy the day I bought my computer and totally showed me the ropes of a Mac, and sold it to me. When I first got it I was all cranky trying to figure it out until I realized that I was doing too much work to try to get into my programs. Windows makes you do more steps than are actually necessary to get into something, whereas with a Mac, everything is simple and easy to get into. Once I figured that out, I never looked back.
My Mac runs better and faster than any PC I've ever owned. It's reliable. It recognizes printers, scanners, phones, cameras, you name it, without ever having to install a disk on the computer like you would with Windows. It's just that easy. It hasn't slowed down, froze up, or any of those things that my PCs always did when I had them for this long and compiled as much stuff on them as I have on my Mac now. And the best part? I would have sunk hundreds of dollars into software with a PC, whereas the Mac came with everything I needed.
I was also pleased to find out that the PC I was going to purchase is a big flop. They are now on clearance for less than half the price that they were ten months ago. My friend bought one a few months back and it's already gone bad. From the stories I've heard, hers isn't the only one. So really, I dodged a bullet.
Which brings me back to Aunt Bev. This is what she is trying to do. She's all about the Mac, they're just more pricey than PCs. Honestly, I think they're two hundred percent worth the money. You get double the return on them, and I would never even consider going back to a PC ever again. Even if someone offered me a million bucks with the stipulation that I just could not use Mac ever again, I'd tell them to eat it. I am a writer. It is hard to get anything done without a decent computer. I am unable to consider anything with Windows a decent computer for me. It just simply does not serve my needs the way a Mac does.
The thing with Aunt Bev is that she wants a large Mac with a big screen. (Because she's not getting any younger. That's what she keeps saying.) It's going to run her a good chunk of money. Also, the Mac comes with a ton of stuff she won't use. For me, the Mac was ideal. For her, no matter what model she gets, it's overkill.
But she does not want anything with Windows. She hopes Windows eats dirt. (Okay, I don't know what exactly it is that she hopes for Windows, but I added that just for extra oomph.) I think she is ready to spend the extra money, because she understands it's an investment. At the same time she is so confused because I threw so much at her today. And no matter what she gets, I'm going to have to teach her to use it.
I will let you all know what she decides. I am super eager to find out myself. *Bites nails*
Thursday, July 16, 2009
There Are Cat Poop Kleptos Out There
In the midst of the fail story I had to tell yesterday, I forgot to tell two other small stories that went right along with my day. One brings the strange front and center, while the other just makes you wonder if what's going on is really legal. Fun times, right? I will not leave you in suspense. I will move right into the stories.
Yesterday was garbage day, so being that we don't like garbage piling up in our house or garage, we put out garbage out. Within our garbage we had a plastic cat litter bin to put out. The bin was empty of fresh litter, of course, but inside of the bin was dirty cat litter and lots of runny, disgusting cat poop. I promise I'm not telling you all this to gross you out.
After we put the garbage out, we ran to go and get blood taken from my body. (For those of you who are counting, this is around seventy tubes of blood since the end of last November.) When we arrived back home just an hour later we noticed that our garbage had not been picked up yet, nor had the neighbors, but the cat litter bin filled with stinky, gross poop was gone.
I just have one question for the people who took it. Why? And I also have one sentiment. Eww!
While out yesterday, I ran to Wal-Mart to refill my prescription. I am currently taking 10MG of Amitriptyline to treat a little bit of a nerve disorder that I've been having issues with since a 120lb wooden crate attacked my foot. It's no big deal and really not the point of the story here, but this is still important to know.
For the longest time I've always gotten my prescriptions at Wal-Mart with no problem, but this time when I got my prescription filled I noticed that something was different. Instead of feeling a little bottle inside my bag, I felt something large and square, so I pulled it out. I noticed what they were giving me was not my regular med. Instead, it was Amitriptyline Hydrochloride. This confused me, especially considering I'm severely allergic to hydrochloride, so I took the prescription back and asked the pharmacist what was going on.
Apparently Wal-Mart decided to go with a new manufacturer of their generic drugs, and since each generic drug is just slightly different from the other, the difference in this one was that it contained hydrochloride. I can now no longer get my meds at Wal-Mart due to this. *Sigh* Oh well, that means I'll be buying a lot more stuff at Target now.
I wouldn't have even been so upset about this, but Wal-Mart switched manufacturers, therefore switching out the pills, and wasn't ever planning on telling me. If I wouldn't have happened to be suspicious about the pills coming in a blister pack, instead of just thinking that's how they were coming now, I may not have read the small print and seen that there was hydrochloride in them. That would have ended badly.
I'm considering writing a quirky letter to Wal-Mart corporate just to let them know that I feel they should alert people when changing manufacturers and drugs. I was always under the understanding that they were required to do that by law. Apparently I'm wrong on this.
Ugh, when will the stupid end? WHEN I ASK YOU!
Yesterday was garbage day, so being that we don't like garbage piling up in our house or garage, we put out garbage out. Within our garbage we had a plastic cat litter bin to put out. The bin was empty of fresh litter, of course, but inside of the bin was dirty cat litter and lots of runny, disgusting cat poop. I promise I'm not telling you all this to gross you out.
After we put the garbage out, we ran to go and get blood taken from my body. (For those of you who are counting, this is around seventy tubes of blood since the end of last November.) When we arrived back home just an hour later we noticed that our garbage had not been picked up yet, nor had the neighbors, but the cat litter bin filled with stinky, gross poop was gone.
I just have one question for the people who took it. Why? And I also have one sentiment. Eww!
While out yesterday, I ran to Wal-Mart to refill my prescription. I am currently taking 10MG of Amitriptyline to treat a little bit of a nerve disorder that I've been having issues with since a 120lb wooden crate attacked my foot. It's no big deal and really not the point of the story here, but this is still important to know.
For the longest time I've always gotten my prescriptions at Wal-Mart with no problem, but this time when I got my prescription filled I noticed that something was different. Instead of feeling a little bottle inside my bag, I felt something large and square, so I pulled it out. I noticed what they were giving me was not my regular med. Instead, it was Amitriptyline Hydrochloride. This confused me, especially considering I'm severely allergic to hydrochloride, so I took the prescription back and asked the pharmacist what was going on.
Apparently Wal-Mart decided to go with a new manufacturer of their generic drugs, and since each generic drug is just slightly different from the other, the difference in this one was that it contained hydrochloride. I can now no longer get my meds at Wal-Mart due to this. *Sigh* Oh well, that means I'll be buying a lot more stuff at Target now.
I wouldn't have even been so upset about this, but Wal-Mart switched manufacturers, therefore switching out the pills, and wasn't ever planning on telling me. If I wouldn't have happened to be suspicious about the pills coming in a blister pack, instead of just thinking that's how they were coming now, I may not have read the small print and seen that there was hydrochloride in them. That would have ended badly.
I'm considering writing a quirky letter to Wal-Mart corporate just to let them know that I feel they should alert people when changing manufacturers and drugs. I was always under the understanding that they were required to do that by law. Apparently I'm wrong on this.
Ugh, when will the stupid end? WHEN I ASK YOU!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
What Do You Mean You Pull Pants Up OVER Your Legs?
Monday I will be having surgery on my nose to correct a deviated septum on each side. I also have a loose blood vessel in my nose which causes me to bleed profusely through my nose and mouth at random times, and hurts like a jerk. It will also be fixed. Even though I know the process will be painful and I will be down for a few weeks, I am really excited to be able to breathe properly out of my nose for the first time in my life. If I was a good dancer, I would totally dance just to celebrate.
You may be wondering where I'm going with this as I always have stories to go with every little thing I start out telling you all about, but I promise I'm getting there. There's just a few things I need to address first so that you're caught up to what's going on before I tell you the story part of this.
The first thing you need to know is within the first paragraph of this blog. The second thing is that my doctor is amazing. He has taken care of me since I was a young child and I have the utmost trust in him and his skills to make my nose a place to breathe out of. I couldn't be more comfortable with him, and if he wasn't doing the surgery, I would probably be iffy to even get it done. That is how much I trust this guy.
The third thing you need to know is that I am unsure if anyone in his staff is able to tie their shoes or put on their pants without outside help. Obviously they can not get help from each other, as I don't think if you put them all together they could figure it out.
I have talked about this same staff in a previous blog. This is the same staff with the infamous lady who told us to park in one place, and then the next time we came back told us not to park in that same place or else we'd get towed. As you can see the fail margin is high.
Basically, what I'm saying is that I love the doctor but his staff needs to follow the scarecrow and find a brain. All of them. I know this sounds harsh, but stick with me and I will prove why this is not. You will also understand why I chose to go to a hospital not directly related with the office I see my doctor out of or his staff, for the surgery. I'd like to live through it, and being as this isn't really a surgery you particularly are apt to die from, it's kind of scared that I have that fear anyway just knowing his staff, therefore going elsewhere just to avoid them.
When I had left their office upon scheduling the surgical appointment last month, I was given a paper by one of the nurses that stated I needed to send in clearance from my heart doctor to say that I could withstand the anesthesia, and also that I had an EKG done on my heart. This was a fairly simple request, rendering me no reason to worry about anything. Or at least that's what I stupidly thought.
I had gone to the heart doctor about two and a half weeks ago, and while there they physically faxed over both things that the doctor's office had requested prior to the surgery while I actually watched them do it. In turn, I knew they had sent the papers over and that I should, again, have nothing to worry about. But something kept eating at me today, and I just couldn't get rid of the feeling, so I decided to call up to the doctor's office of which was doing the surgery and make sure they got the papers, even though that's not really my job and I knew they were sent.
Holy crap, it was more than a good thing I did. Let's just put it that way. Enter; the story.
I called up to the office once, heard the girl pick up, heard her hit a button, and then was hung up on. Okay, obviously she doesn't know how to use the phone system despite being there for years. Whatever, I called back. This time the line was busy. At best guess it was because the same girl was probably yelling "hello" into the phone repeatedly, wondering where the person who had just called and gone, and not realizing that she had hung up on me. I hung up and waited a few minutes before calling back. This time I actually had success in the form of her knowing how to answer the phone. It went downhill from here.
I explained to the girl why I was calling in a chipper, but somewhat slow tone just to make sure she got it. She put me on hold to go and talk to Jamie, the lady who apparently takes care of the paperwork for all the surgeries. I was shocked and amazed when she actually managed to put me on hold and not hang up on me. Then she came back and all of the previous shock and amazement went away.
I had simply told her that I was calling to make sure my paperwork was in order for the surgery. When she came back she told me that it was not, and that the doctor's office never faxed over the paperwork. I told her that I knew for a fact that was absolutely untrue as I was standing there almost three weeks ago when they had done it. In a very shocked voice she asks "HOW LONG AGO?" I tell her and get put on hold again. This time for several minutes, but I still didn't get hung up on, so that's a point for her. This point still does not bring her into the positive, but it's a start.
Oh yeah, and did I forget to mention that she also claimed it wasn't her's nor Jamie's job to know if they received the paperwork or not, because that's exactly what she told me. Uh, it's not my job. I don't work up there. I can't inform myself or know if they actually put it into my file or not, so yeah, it's kind of absolutely their job.
After she finally came back, she once again told me that Jamie hadn't gotten my papers, but then decided to let me actually talk to Jamie. Oh man, because I totally wouldn't have thought of letting me do that the first time! Oh no, I would have waited, gone back a second time, asked her the same question, and THEN let me talk to her. Where in the hell is the common sense?
One would think that once I had Jamie on the phone the fail would stop, or at least subside some. However, the fail just continued on even worse. I explained to Jamie that I was physically standing in the doctor's office when they faxed the papers, after she asked me several times if I was sure the papers were sent. Trust me, I was definitely sure.
She then proceeds to say that since she didn't receive my paperwork, she was going to go on ahead and cancel my appointment. I asked her when she was planning on telling me this and she claimed it was not her job. Umm, yeah, I'm sorry but that is the EXACT definition of your job. You really can't just cancel someone's appointment and not tell them. I could have smacked her, but since it was a phone call and smacking someone is illegal, I obviously didn't.
She then says to me, and I urge you all to prepare yourselves...
Let me just give you all a minute...
Ready?
"Well, I do have a large group of papers that have been sitting here for the last couple of weeks. Maybe your papers are in there."
This is verbatim people. I can not make this shit up. My mind, although creative, is not creatively stupid enough to come up with this kind of verbal crap. But what really wins this is that she was going to cancel my appointment without telling me before she bothered to go through paperwork that has been sitting on her desk for several weeks. Yep, she's a real winner.
Remember people, she's also getting paid to be this big of a winner. Kind of makes you wonder where you went wrong, huh? All that education, all that common sense, only to find that you've wasted all that time in school and fine tuning your common sense for nothing. You could have just been an idiot and got a job at a doctor's office. *Sigh*
So while she sifted through the papers, I waited patiently on the phone, my wireless minutes slowly wasting away while she did something she should have done weeks ago. Then, HARK, my papers magically seemed to appear inside of this pile of papers she had. She seemed so shocked by this that you would have thought someone actually had told her she was doing a good job. (A sentiment I'm sure she's never heard.) She just downright told me that it was just so amazing my papers were in that group on her desk.
That's not exactly my definition of amazing. Had she gone through that pile ten times and they not been there, I could understand. But the fact that the papers have been sitting on her desk and she's never touched them, I wouldn't exactly call finding my papers within her absence of doing her job amazing by any sense of a divine miracle. What do I know?
If this was the worst part of the story, that'd be one thing, but alas, it is not.
Jamie then follows up all the shock and excitement of what one can find when they actually do their job by telling me that she received my clearance and EKG, but not the results of my blood work. My response:
WHAT BLOOD WORK?
She then laughs and says, oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you that you needed to get blood work done. Well, you have to get it done tomorrow or we can't do the surgery.
*Thunk* The sound you hear is my head hitting the coffee table repeatedly.
Let's just start with the fact that this isn't very funny and someone needs to Agent Gibbs her if she thinks that it is. And second, THAT IS A HUGE THING TO FORGET. Let's just keep in mind here that had I not called today she would have canceled my appointment and not ever told me, so I would have still showed up for my surgery Monday.
Now let's also keep in mind that even though I did call, had she forgot to mention the blood work to me in any way, shape, or form then I would have gone in Monday to only be turned away and have to reschedule. This would not have gone well for her, as I would have sent her a letter for each day I had to wait to have the surgery done expressing my joy that she has a job she can not do. No really, I would have.
Now the blood work would not be that huge of a deal even though it is extremely inconvenient, except that I just made the drive to get my blood pulled today, and had I known I had to have blood pulled for my surgery Monday, I could have saved myself a trip and a needle poke by getting it all done at one time. There's also the fact that I have had about 70 tubes of blood pulled since the end of last November, leaving so much scar tissue in my veins that they are unable to retrieve blood out of my arms without putting me through a serious amount of pain, several jabs, and having issues doing so. I already knew for the surgery that they were going to have to put the IV via my hand, but now I have to go back and get blood pulled through my hand, too.
I would be really put off by this and angry, but my life tends to think things like this are funny. What are you going to do? Grin and bear it. One day this will be funny.
You may be wondering where I'm going with this as I always have stories to go with every little thing I start out telling you all about, but I promise I'm getting there. There's just a few things I need to address first so that you're caught up to what's going on before I tell you the story part of this.
The first thing you need to know is within the first paragraph of this blog. The second thing is that my doctor is amazing. He has taken care of me since I was a young child and I have the utmost trust in him and his skills to make my nose a place to breathe out of. I couldn't be more comfortable with him, and if he wasn't doing the surgery, I would probably be iffy to even get it done. That is how much I trust this guy.
The third thing you need to know is that I am unsure if anyone in his staff is able to tie their shoes or put on their pants without outside help. Obviously they can not get help from each other, as I don't think if you put them all together they could figure it out.
I have talked about this same staff in a previous blog. This is the same staff with the infamous lady who told us to park in one place, and then the next time we came back told us not to park in that same place or else we'd get towed. As you can see the fail margin is high.
Basically, what I'm saying is that I love the doctor but his staff needs to follow the scarecrow and find a brain. All of them. I know this sounds harsh, but stick with me and I will prove why this is not. You will also understand why I chose to go to a hospital not directly related with the office I see my doctor out of or his staff, for the surgery. I'd like to live through it, and being as this isn't really a surgery you particularly are apt to die from, it's kind of scared that I have that fear anyway just knowing his staff, therefore going elsewhere just to avoid them.
When I had left their office upon scheduling the surgical appointment last month, I was given a paper by one of the nurses that stated I needed to send in clearance from my heart doctor to say that I could withstand the anesthesia, and also that I had an EKG done on my heart. This was a fairly simple request, rendering me no reason to worry about anything. Or at least that's what I stupidly thought.
I had gone to the heart doctor about two and a half weeks ago, and while there they physically faxed over both things that the doctor's office had requested prior to the surgery while I actually watched them do it. In turn, I knew they had sent the papers over and that I should, again, have nothing to worry about. But something kept eating at me today, and I just couldn't get rid of the feeling, so I decided to call up to the doctor's office of which was doing the surgery and make sure they got the papers, even though that's not really my job and I knew they were sent.
Holy crap, it was more than a good thing I did. Let's just put it that way. Enter; the story.
I called up to the office once, heard the girl pick up, heard her hit a button, and then was hung up on. Okay, obviously she doesn't know how to use the phone system despite being there for years. Whatever, I called back. This time the line was busy. At best guess it was because the same girl was probably yelling "hello" into the phone repeatedly, wondering where the person who had just called and gone, and not realizing that she had hung up on me. I hung up and waited a few minutes before calling back. This time I actually had success in the form of her knowing how to answer the phone. It went downhill from here.
I explained to the girl why I was calling in a chipper, but somewhat slow tone just to make sure she got it. She put me on hold to go and talk to Jamie, the lady who apparently takes care of the paperwork for all the surgeries. I was shocked and amazed when she actually managed to put me on hold and not hang up on me. Then she came back and all of the previous shock and amazement went away.
I had simply told her that I was calling to make sure my paperwork was in order for the surgery. When she came back she told me that it was not, and that the doctor's office never faxed over the paperwork. I told her that I knew for a fact that was absolutely untrue as I was standing there almost three weeks ago when they had done it. In a very shocked voice she asks "HOW LONG AGO?" I tell her and get put on hold again. This time for several minutes, but I still didn't get hung up on, so that's a point for her. This point still does not bring her into the positive, but it's a start.
Oh yeah, and did I forget to mention that she also claimed it wasn't her's nor Jamie's job to know if they received the paperwork or not, because that's exactly what she told me. Uh, it's not my job. I don't work up there. I can't inform myself or know if they actually put it into my file or not, so yeah, it's kind of absolutely their job.
After she finally came back, she once again told me that Jamie hadn't gotten my papers, but then decided to let me actually talk to Jamie. Oh man, because I totally wouldn't have thought of letting me do that the first time! Oh no, I would have waited, gone back a second time, asked her the same question, and THEN let me talk to her. Where in the hell is the common sense?
One would think that once I had Jamie on the phone the fail would stop, or at least subside some. However, the fail just continued on even worse. I explained to Jamie that I was physically standing in the doctor's office when they faxed the papers, after she asked me several times if I was sure the papers were sent. Trust me, I was definitely sure.
She then proceeds to say that since she didn't receive my paperwork, she was going to go on ahead and cancel my appointment. I asked her when she was planning on telling me this and she claimed it was not her job. Umm, yeah, I'm sorry but that is the EXACT definition of your job. You really can't just cancel someone's appointment and not tell them. I could have smacked her, but since it was a phone call and smacking someone is illegal, I obviously didn't.
She then says to me, and I urge you all to prepare yourselves...
Let me just give you all a minute...
Ready?
"Well, I do have a large group of papers that have been sitting here for the last couple of weeks. Maybe your papers are in there."
This is verbatim people. I can not make this shit up. My mind, although creative, is not creatively stupid enough to come up with this kind of verbal crap. But what really wins this is that she was going to cancel my appointment without telling me before she bothered to go through paperwork that has been sitting on her desk for several weeks. Yep, she's a real winner.
Remember people, she's also getting paid to be this big of a winner. Kind of makes you wonder where you went wrong, huh? All that education, all that common sense, only to find that you've wasted all that time in school and fine tuning your common sense for nothing. You could have just been an idiot and got a job at a doctor's office. *Sigh*
So while she sifted through the papers, I waited patiently on the phone, my wireless minutes slowly wasting away while she did something she should have done weeks ago. Then, HARK, my papers magically seemed to appear inside of this pile of papers she had. She seemed so shocked by this that you would have thought someone actually had told her she was doing a good job. (A sentiment I'm sure she's never heard.) She just downright told me that it was just so amazing my papers were in that group on her desk.
That's not exactly my definition of amazing. Had she gone through that pile ten times and they not been there, I could understand. But the fact that the papers have been sitting on her desk and she's never touched them, I wouldn't exactly call finding my papers within her absence of doing her job amazing by any sense of a divine miracle. What do I know?
If this was the worst part of the story, that'd be one thing, but alas, it is not.
Jamie then follows up all the shock and excitement of what one can find when they actually do their job by telling me that she received my clearance and EKG, but not the results of my blood work. My response:
WHAT BLOOD WORK?
She then laughs and says, oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you that you needed to get blood work done. Well, you have to get it done tomorrow or we can't do the surgery.
*Thunk* The sound you hear is my head hitting the coffee table repeatedly.
Let's just start with the fact that this isn't very funny and someone needs to Agent Gibbs her if she thinks that it is. And second, THAT IS A HUGE THING TO FORGET. Let's just keep in mind here that had I not called today she would have canceled my appointment and not ever told me, so I would have still showed up for my surgery Monday.
Now let's also keep in mind that even though I did call, had she forgot to mention the blood work to me in any way, shape, or form then I would have gone in Monday to only be turned away and have to reschedule. This would not have gone well for her, as I would have sent her a letter for each day I had to wait to have the surgery done expressing my joy that she has a job she can not do. No really, I would have.
Now the blood work would not be that huge of a deal even though it is extremely inconvenient, except that I just made the drive to get my blood pulled today, and had I known I had to have blood pulled for my surgery Monday, I could have saved myself a trip and a needle poke by getting it all done at one time. There's also the fact that I have had about 70 tubes of blood pulled since the end of last November, leaving so much scar tissue in my veins that they are unable to retrieve blood out of my arms without putting me through a serious amount of pain, several jabs, and having issues doing so. I already knew for the surgery that they were going to have to put the IV via my hand, but now I have to go back and get blood pulled through my hand, too.
I would be really put off by this and angry, but my life tends to think things like this are funny. What are you going to do? Grin and bear it. One day this will be funny.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I Wrote This For You To Hide For Safe Keeping
It's kind of ridiculous to do three blogs in one day? My friend and I have this joke that we're the new wave of awesome, but it turns out that I am just the new wave of ridiculous. Which is kind of awesome, right?
I realized while talking to another friend that I am finally okay with everything going on in my life, and with the feelings I may or may not have had for someone who I didn't exactly want to be introduced to in the first place. I guess I'll never really know if there was anything there, but it's not my place and there is a reason for it. I accept that.
I still have my moments where I want to explore the possibilities, but being as I'm stuck in one place and sick right now, that's not possible. It doesn't hurt anymore. Nothing about this does.
He's changed, and he has a girlfriend who has cheated on him, but he feels this is okay because all of his girlfriends have cheated on him, but she's been the nicest to him. It is not okay, but it is also far from my place to tell him that.
I don't want to have a sit down, face to face moment with him. I don't want to have to really talk to him in that way again, because I know this is just destined to go really badly no matter which way I slice it. So I won't slice anything. Not my heart, not the proverbial thing that I'm supposed to slice. I'll keep it all whole.
I always want to put people back together, but the truth is, no matter how hurt someone is, it's not possible for them to actually be broken. But people believe they are, and I always want to be the tape and the glue, and the instant fix of a permanent thing that stays in their heart and head until they can deal with life. I want to be their everything just because they never had anything to believe in. But I cannot change the world, and I will only hurt myself trying to do so. It's a lesson well learned.
If you want to stay with a girl who is going to cheat on you, that is your choice. I would never tell you otherwise. Your reasoning is ridiculous, but it's not my life. I think it says a lot for you that you would stay with someone who cheated on you just because "they've treated you the best out of the three girlfriends you've had, all which have done the same."
Do you not know you deserve better? Is that really how you feel about yourself? You are so much better, and although you've made some idiotic choices, I know that you're strong enough to undo them and fix what you think is so broken about yourself. I look at you and I don't see broken. I see something pretty amazing, and I'm sorry that you can't see that for yourself. It makes me sad, but it's not my battle to fight. I'll never win it if I try.
No one else can pick up the pieces for you, but we can stand here and support you when you do it. Just remember that. Please remember that.
You've just proven to me time and time again that it doesn't matter who you are, what you do for a living, or how much money you make. Pain is pain. Hurt is hurt. All those things can't erase the past, but you can't let them define who you are either. You are better than that. It's a shame you don't know it.
The guy I met last year didn't ruin his life with substances and drugs just to pass the days. Now you do that. What's made you that way? Who has hurt you in the past? What inside of you has made you think that is all right?
It is not all right! There's too much life to live sober, to live free and clear to be wasting time being half out of it. You're too talented for that. If I'm the only one telling you that, or the only one who has been otherwise honest with you, then I am really sorry, because the friends you have are not real friends.
I wrote this for you because you will never see it, and that's the way I'd like to keep it.
I realized while talking to another friend that I am finally okay with everything going on in my life, and with the feelings I may or may not have had for someone who I didn't exactly want to be introduced to in the first place. I guess I'll never really know if there was anything there, but it's not my place and there is a reason for it. I accept that.
I still have my moments where I want to explore the possibilities, but being as I'm stuck in one place and sick right now, that's not possible. It doesn't hurt anymore. Nothing about this does.
He's changed, and he has a girlfriend who has cheated on him, but he feels this is okay because all of his girlfriends have cheated on him, but she's been the nicest to him. It is not okay, but it is also far from my place to tell him that.
I don't want to have a sit down, face to face moment with him. I don't want to have to really talk to him in that way again, because I know this is just destined to go really badly no matter which way I slice it. So I won't slice anything. Not my heart, not the proverbial thing that I'm supposed to slice. I'll keep it all whole.
I always want to put people back together, but the truth is, no matter how hurt someone is, it's not possible for them to actually be broken. But people believe they are, and I always want to be the tape and the glue, and the instant fix of a permanent thing that stays in their heart and head until they can deal with life. I want to be their everything just because they never had anything to believe in. But I cannot change the world, and I will only hurt myself trying to do so. It's a lesson well learned.
If you want to stay with a girl who is going to cheat on you, that is your choice. I would never tell you otherwise. Your reasoning is ridiculous, but it's not my life. I think it says a lot for you that you would stay with someone who cheated on you just because "they've treated you the best out of the three girlfriends you've had, all which have done the same."
Do you not know you deserve better? Is that really how you feel about yourself? You are so much better, and although you've made some idiotic choices, I know that you're strong enough to undo them and fix what you think is so broken about yourself. I look at you and I don't see broken. I see something pretty amazing, and I'm sorry that you can't see that for yourself. It makes me sad, but it's not my battle to fight. I'll never win it if I try.
No one else can pick up the pieces for you, but we can stand here and support you when you do it. Just remember that. Please remember that.
You've just proven to me time and time again that it doesn't matter who you are, what you do for a living, or how much money you make. Pain is pain. Hurt is hurt. All those things can't erase the past, but you can't let them define who you are either. You are better than that. It's a shame you don't know it.
The guy I met last year didn't ruin his life with substances and drugs just to pass the days. Now you do that. What's made you that way? Who has hurt you in the past? What inside of you has made you think that is all right?
It is not all right! There's too much life to live sober, to live free and clear to be wasting time being half out of it. You're too talented for that. If I'm the only one telling you that, or the only one who has been otherwise honest with you, then I am really sorry, because the friends you have are not real friends.
I wrote this for you because you will never see it, and that's the way I'd like to keep it.
Monday, July 13, 2009
In This Skin
I know I already posted tonight, and not all that long ago, but I decided to make the trek back here and get a little deep on all of you. I'm not going to apologize for this, either, because I feel like sometimes we have to turn ourselves inside out just to really see what we're made of. If we can't do that, will we ever really know who we are?
No, we won't. Sometimes it's just worth it, and whether you do it alone, or around others, it doesn't matter. It's just important that you do it just because you can and for no other reason. Cry because it feels right, laugh because you know how to, and sing even when people are listening just because you want to. No one has ever died from embarrassment. I'm pretty sure this is a proven fact.
My friend and I were just laughing at some pretty sad ads on Craigslist. These certain ads involve dating, and people who really don't know who they are, how to spell, or what the human language entails.
For those of you who have read my blog, you know by now that I am often sarcastic, and get laughs by making fun of others, but gently. (Or at least I hope it's gently.) I never mean any offense to anyone, and anyone who knows me personally knows this, but you all may not. If you ever find me offensive, tell me. I can take it. I truly mean no harm to the person I am being witty towards.
That being said, deep down, I really do have to give these people credit for putting themselves out there on the world wide web. Even though some should most likely go about doing it in another way, or really think more into what they're doing first, they're still doing something that I could never do.
I hold my heart very close to me and I don't give it away easily. I am the girl who can't even ask the guy that I like and have known for over two years out because I'm afraid of making things awkward. I'm not even all that worried about making things awkward for me, but I am worried about making things awkward for others. I don't know why I do this to myself, or why I am like this. There's a fear somewhere that I have yet to conquer, but since I know it's there and I am working on it, I know that one day I will.
As the same friend and I were talking, I told her that I really hope that someone laughs as hard we do when we make fun of people, while making fun of me. I know that sounds really stupid, maybe even a little self masochistic, but it's not.
Everyone deserves a chance to be confident in themselves, and I am confident in me. I know that I'm not perfect, and through that I have the ability to laugh at my flaws, blow them off and keep going. I hope that just because I laugh at myself, others do, too.
As someone pointed out to me the other day, I am a "tool" and a "girl geek." (Just in case, you know, girls really can't be tools.) I am really proud of this. I know that I am both of these things and I would never pretend to be anything different.
I am the girl most likely to fall flat on her face in heels, or most likely to snort with I laugh, even if it's in front of a hundred people. But that's what makes me who I am.
So go ahead, laugh at me. Make fun of me and pick on me, and really get a good chuckle out of doing so. I'm okay with it, because I laugh at myself. If I can do that and make fun of myself, other people should be able to do so, too.
I don't make fun of anyone to be vindictive. I just have this off sense of humor that finds humor in things that shouldn't even be funny. Does that make me different? Does that sometimes scare people? I know that it does, but that is okay. For the people who are okay with this, I find great friendships.
And for those of you who don't like me, that's okay, too. No one said you had to.
The point is, people are people. Sometimes we change our minds. Sometimes we say the worst of things. And sometimes we're just ourselves, heart out, inside out, trying to figure it all out. There is nothing wrong with any of this and there is nothing wrong with who you are. Embrace who you are and learn to be confident no matter what anyone says about you. Because when people say mean things just to hurt you, it's them who is really hurting inside. If you keep your head held high and walk away, it will make them think. And even if they don't want to admit it, it will make them eventually realize that the only person they're hurting is themselves.
So be fearless just because you can be. Fearless isn't having no fears, it's knowing that you have fears and yet you go into life with that in mind and keep on trucking. So I dare everyone to take one day to be fearless and then get back to me and let me know how it feels.
No, we won't. Sometimes it's just worth it, and whether you do it alone, or around others, it doesn't matter. It's just important that you do it just because you can and for no other reason. Cry because it feels right, laugh because you know how to, and sing even when people are listening just because you want to. No one has ever died from embarrassment. I'm pretty sure this is a proven fact.
My friend and I were just laughing at some pretty sad ads on Craigslist. These certain ads involve dating, and people who really don't know who they are, how to spell, or what the human language entails.
For those of you who have read my blog, you know by now that I am often sarcastic, and get laughs by making fun of others, but gently. (Or at least I hope it's gently.) I never mean any offense to anyone, and anyone who knows me personally knows this, but you all may not. If you ever find me offensive, tell me. I can take it. I truly mean no harm to the person I am being witty towards.
That being said, deep down, I really do have to give these people credit for putting themselves out there on the world wide web. Even though some should most likely go about doing it in another way, or really think more into what they're doing first, they're still doing something that I could never do.
I hold my heart very close to me and I don't give it away easily. I am the girl who can't even ask the guy that I like and have known for over two years out because I'm afraid of making things awkward. I'm not even all that worried about making things awkward for me, but I am worried about making things awkward for others. I don't know why I do this to myself, or why I am like this. There's a fear somewhere that I have yet to conquer, but since I know it's there and I am working on it, I know that one day I will.
As the same friend and I were talking, I told her that I really hope that someone laughs as hard we do when we make fun of people, while making fun of me. I know that sounds really stupid, maybe even a little self masochistic, but it's not.
Everyone deserves a chance to be confident in themselves, and I am confident in me. I know that I'm not perfect, and through that I have the ability to laugh at my flaws, blow them off and keep going. I hope that just because I laugh at myself, others do, too.
As someone pointed out to me the other day, I am a "tool" and a "girl geek." (Just in case, you know, girls really can't be tools.) I am really proud of this. I know that I am both of these things and I would never pretend to be anything different.
I am the girl most likely to fall flat on her face in heels, or most likely to snort with I laugh, even if it's in front of a hundred people. But that's what makes me who I am.
So go ahead, laugh at me. Make fun of me and pick on me, and really get a good chuckle out of doing so. I'm okay with it, because I laugh at myself. If I can do that and make fun of myself, other people should be able to do so, too.
I don't make fun of anyone to be vindictive. I just have this off sense of humor that finds humor in things that shouldn't even be funny. Does that make me different? Does that sometimes scare people? I know that it does, but that is okay. For the people who are okay with this, I find great friendships.
And for those of you who don't like me, that's okay, too. No one said you had to.
The point is, people are people. Sometimes we change our minds. Sometimes we say the worst of things. And sometimes we're just ourselves, heart out, inside out, trying to figure it all out. There is nothing wrong with any of this and there is nothing wrong with who you are. Embrace who you are and learn to be confident no matter what anyone says about you. Because when people say mean things just to hurt you, it's them who is really hurting inside. If you keep your head held high and walk away, it will make them think. And even if they don't want to admit it, it will make them eventually realize that the only person they're hurting is themselves.
So be fearless just because you can be. Fearless isn't having no fears, it's knowing that you have fears and yet you go into life with that in mind and keep on trucking. So I dare everyone to take one day to be fearless and then get back to me and let me know how it feels.
Don't Worry. The Smurfs Will Catch You!
I just have a few short stories for today, none of which have anything to do with the ones I already have written up, but have yet to proofread. I should get on that, shouldn't I? (Hey, don't get pushy. Gees.)
The first short story is about my favorite person ever, and her accomplice. Of course I'm talking about Aunt Bev and my Mom. The only two people who can cause debauchery without actually doing anything at all. They made it so obvious again today.
Earlier today I had called my mom who was over at Aunt Bev's. I don't know why I do these things, or why I expect to get an honest, normal response from either of them when they're together. Yet somehow, I still do. With this in mind, I asked my mom a very innocent question.
"Are you coming home soon?" The answer I got; not so simple and innocent.
Prepare yourselves for this, people. Really, you can't say I didn't warn you. Take all the food out of your mouth, set your drink down and make sure you don't have to pee prior to reading this.
"No. I'm babysitting Bev right now so she doesn't fall in the pond."
*Gives you all a minute to take this in*
Now please understand that Aunt Bev's pond can not be anymore than a couple of feet deep, and it is a very small, three foot round, man made Koi pond. I do not know why she needed supervision to not fall into the pond. I could understand if it was a bottomless ocean, or something, but a pond? Really? She's a grown adult. I'm sure whatever she was doing could not have been dangerous enough that she would have fallen in her own pond.
And let's be honest, even if she did, what's the worst that could happen? Her pants would get wet and she'd scare the heebie mcboogers out of a few Koi, but after that, I'm sure she could fish herself out and find dry ground again.
My mom points out that knowing Bev's luck she'd fall in, slip, and smack her head off of something. This may be true, but the fact that they decided a grown woman needed a babysitter around her pond just really scores a ton of points in my book. Oh, those two.
Aunt Bev, I have faith in you to not fall in your own pond and drown. I'm just telling you this right now. I believe in you! (Unless you went back out after my mom left and did fall in and drown. In that case, disregard this. Or, you know, in that case, you wouldn't be reading this.)
I also watched the movie Wild Hogs today. You know, the one with John Travolta, Tim Allen, William H Macy, and Martin Lawrence, where they take a road trip on motorcycles across the US and get in bad with a biker gang? I have never laughed so hard in my life. I really think everyone should watch this movie.
It had everything. It had one man teaching another how to do the Lindy Hop to prevent him from doing the Sprinkler. It had Extreme Makeover: Home Edition rebuild a bar for a rebel biker gang. It even had a gay ranger who the four very straight men had a really hard time shaking. I mean, let's be honest, the thought of the four actors in the cast riding motorcycles and making their own "gang" is just amazing to begin with. All these other factors involved just make for an epic win!
My friend Silver Stripes and I were discussing how sane is vastly overrated. She is also the one who contributed to my other site, It's Traffic Time. In case you all have missed that, click on the name of the blog and get your butt over there and begin sharing your own story. It's about traffic blunders and I know you all have them. Don't even try to lie to me.
Anyway, in doing this, I thought about some of the most "sane" people that I know and their behaviors. Sane really is just a social standing. What is socially considered sane is sometimes so far from it. I mean, the way I see it, this is how it works.
Sane is way overrated. I mean, if you're totally sane you become one of those boring people who has the same daily routine and flips out if his Friday underwear go missing and he has to wear his Monday ones. You know what I'm saying?
For those of you who actually do this...all you CEO's and office workers of the daily bump and grind, you definitely know what I mean. Hats off to you, because you are no more sane than anyone else, and that's what makes you who you are. It's amazing to be a little fun, wild, and crazy sometimes. Please, wear those Monday underwear on a Friday. See how it feels. I promise you that you will not be disappointed!
As I'm sitting here typing this, my mom is watching TV. A commercial came out where this guy was using the voice dialing feature on his cell phone to make a call. My mom brought up a very short story that I don't think I've ever told on here. That, my friends, is a crime.
Ages ago when I worked at Hallmark, one of my favorite people to work with was Katie. She was smart, and funny, and really close to my age. She was also pretty awesome with technology and had one of those phones that did everything but clean the house. As we were leaving work one night, she got out her phone and hit the voice dialing feature. Just as she was about to say the name of who she wanted it to dial, the door to the store in which we were trying to lock up, got in a fight with us. And out of her mouth came an "oh, shit." Automatic reaction, understandably, but this is where it gets hinky.
Her phone then goes "now dialing oh, shit." We cracked up immediately, but the worst was yet to come. About five seconds later the automated voice answered back with "can not find oh, shit. Ending call." To this day I don't know if I've ever laughed at anything so hard in my life, or if I could recreate a situation as funny ever again. Just the fact that the automated voice actually said "oh, shit" and then tried to find them to dial, just totally made me wonder how smart technology actually is.
But the moral of the story is that Katie got technology to swear. I should totally be a fifteen year old boy to appreciate this properly, but I am not, and I assure you I appreciate this more than any teenage boy ever could.
This concludes the blog for the day, but before I go, I was just reminded that I love smurfs! You know, the little blue things from the 80's. They rock my socks in ways I can't explain. Ah, smurfs!
The first short story is about my favorite person ever, and her accomplice. Of course I'm talking about Aunt Bev and my Mom. The only two people who can cause debauchery without actually doing anything at all. They made it so obvious again today.
Earlier today I had called my mom who was over at Aunt Bev's. I don't know why I do these things, or why I expect to get an honest, normal response from either of them when they're together. Yet somehow, I still do. With this in mind, I asked my mom a very innocent question.
"Are you coming home soon?" The answer I got; not so simple and innocent.
Prepare yourselves for this, people. Really, you can't say I didn't warn you. Take all the food out of your mouth, set your drink down and make sure you don't have to pee prior to reading this.
"No. I'm babysitting Bev right now so she doesn't fall in the pond."
*Gives you all a minute to take this in*
Now please understand that Aunt Bev's pond can not be anymore than a couple of feet deep, and it is a very small, three foot round, man made Koi pond. I do not know why she needed supervision to not fall into the pond. I could understand if it was a bottomless ocean, or something, but a pond? Really? She's a grown adult. I'm sure whatever she was doing could not have been dangerous enough that she would have fallen in her own pond.
And let's be honest, even if she did, what's the worst that could happen? Her pants would get wet and she'd scare the heebie mcboogers out of a few Koi, but after that, I'm sure she could fish herself out and find dry ground again.
My mom points out that knowing Bev's luck she'd fall in, slip, and smack her head off of something. This may be true, but the fact that they decided a grown woman needed a babysitter around her pond just really scores a ton of points in my book. Oh, those two.
Aunt Bev, I have faith in you to not fall in your own pond and drown. I'm just telling you this right now. I believe in you! (Unless you went back out after my mom left and did fall in and drown. In that case, disregard this. Or, you know, in that case, you wouldn't be reading this.)
I also watched the movie Wild Hogs today. You know, the one with John Travolta, Tim Allen, William H Macy, and Martin Lawrence, where they take a road trip on motorcycles across the US and get in bad with a biker gang? I have never laughed so hard in my life. I really think everyone should watch this movie.
It had everything. It had one man teaching another how to do the Lindy Hop to prevent him from doing the Sprinkler. It had Extreme Makeover: Home Edition rebuild a bar for a rebel biker gang. It even had a gay ranger who the four very straight men had a really hard time shaking. I mean, let's be honest, the thought of the four actors in the cast riding motorcycles and making their own "gang" is just amazing to begin with. All these other factors involved just make for an epic win!
My friend Silver Stripes and I were discussing how sane is vastly overrated. She is also the one who contributed to my other site, It's Traffic Time. In case you all have missed that, click on the name of the blog and get your butt over there and begin sharing your own story. It's about traffic blunders and I know you all have them. Don't even try to lie to me.
Anyway, in doing this, I thought about some of the most "sane" people that I know and their behaviors. Sane really is just a social standing. What is socially considered sane is sometimes so far from it. I mean, the way I see it, this is how it works.
Sane is way overrated. I mean, if you're totally sane you become one of those boring people who has the same daily routine and flips out if his Friday underwear go missing and he has to wear his Monday ones. You know what I'm saying?
For those of you who actually do this...all you CEO's and office workers of the daily bump and grind, you definitely know what I mean. Hats off to you, because you are no more sane than anyone else, and that's what makes you who you are. It's amazing to be a little fun, wild, and crazy sometimes. Please, wear those Monday underwear on a Friday. See how it feels. I promise you that you will not be disappointed!
As I'm sitting here typing this, my mom is watching TV. A commercial came out where this guy was using the voice dialing feature on his cell phone to make a call. My mom brought up a very short story that I don't think I've ever told on here. That, my friends, is a crime.
Ages ago when I worked at Hallmark, one of my favorite people to work with was Katie. She was smart, and funny, and really close to my age. She was also pretty awesome with technology and had one of those phones that did everything but clean the house. As we were leaving work one night, she got out her phone and hit the voice dialing feature. Just as she was about to say the name of who she wanted it to dial, the door to the store in which we were trying to lock up, got in a fight with us. And out of her mouth came an "oh, shit." Automatic reaction, understandably, but this is where it gets hinky.
Her phone then goes "now dialing oh, shit." We cracked up immediately, but the worst was yet to come. About five seconds later the automated voice answered back with "can not find oh, shit. Ending call." To this day I don't know if I've ever laughed at anything so hard in my life, or if I could recreate a situation as funny ever again. Just the fact that the automated voice actually said "oh, shit" and then tried to find them to dial, just totally made me wonder how smart technology actually is.
But the moral of the story is that Katie got technology to swear. I should totally be a fifteen year old boy to appreciate this properly, but I am not, and I assure you I appreciate this more than any teenage boy ever could.
This concludes the blog for the day, but before I go, I was just reminded that I love smurfs! You know, the little blue things from the 80's. They rock my socks in ways I can't explain. Ah, smurfs!
I Am Such A Chicken-Shit
I just want to know if I'm the only girl who is too much of a chicken to tell someone how I feel about them? To ask someone out that I like and have for several years. I mean, I can spill my feelings online, sing in front of a ton of people and fearlessly write a novel, but I can't ask someone out. *Heads desk*
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Wizards Have Come For My Mom
Just a short update on a couple of things that happened today and were too cute to not share. You know, just in case I don't get around to posting later. What's sad is that I have blogs written up to post. I just need to do the actual proofreading on them and haven't been up for it. My brain; not computing.
Today my mom called up a guy she used to work with just to see how things were going. She was given an ultimatum from the company almost two years ago. They gave her a buyout option and she either took it, or wait a few months until they did away with her position and find herself without a job, or a buyout. She did what she had to do.
This being said, she just wanted to check up on her friend and see if he still had a job, and get all the gossip. (He's on night turn now. Most of the other people she worked with, including bosses, have been rifted out of their positions, and it's not likely the rest of them will have a job soon, either. We're talking about people in all different aspects and positions of the job, not just the one she worked in.) What they ended up talking about was the lottery, and how when my mom won it she was going to take her friend and move to Hawaii. The way they got into this isn't important, because if you've read prior stories about my mom, you would understand this makes perfect sense just because it doesn't.
From here it led into a conversation about how everyone would pitch in for lottery tickets each week in hopes that they would win and be able to split the money. Back in the day when my mom worked there, she would pitch in, too. She asked her friend what the most was that they ever won since they were doing this long before she was working in the same office as them, and have continued to do it.
They had won $7. That's right. After years of doing the weekly lottery, the most they've ever won has been $7. And keep in mind that that isn't each. Oh no. The $7 had to be split between all four people. I'm sadly thinking that maybe my mom's chances of winning the lottery might be better than the four of them pitching in on a ticket. After all these years, I don't think Lady Luck is on their side. Beyond that, my mom's friend pointed out that when she wins the lottery part of that money is his just on pure standards alone, and as a consolation prize for never winning after all these years.
Too cute.
It also happens to be in the high 80's here today, and is far too hot to think about cooking. Especially when you don't have air conditioning. I ordered a pizza and was waiting until I could go and pick it up, since Pizza Hut does not deliver where I live. While doing this, The Wizards of Waverly Place came on. I had a few e-mails to check, so when my mom came in and asked if she could switch the channel to see the news and weather, I thought nothing of it. When she got the weather and urgently switched the channel back to The Wizards of Waverly Place, that caught my attention.
My mom watches the Disney Channel, but she hasn't been real fond of the shows they've been coming out with lately. I guess I missed the memo where she announced her liking towards The Wizards of Waverly Place, although I knew she liked Selena Gomez. None of these reasons were why she changed the channel.
In this certain episode there was a kid who had been raised by giants, but being as he was short, he wondered who his birth parents were and wanted to meet them. Alex was trying to help him behind everyone's back so that his parents didn't find out and become upset about this. My mom changed the channel because she "really had to know who his real parents were and what they looked like." Her words, not mine.
Mom, I am amused.
Today my mom called up a guy she used to work with just to see how things were going. She was given an ultimatum from the company almost two years ago. They gave her a buyout option and she either took it, or wait a few months until they did away with her position and find herself without a job, or a buyout. She did what she had to do.
This being said, she just wanted to check up on her friend and see if he still had a job, and get all the gossip. (He's on night turn now. Most of the other people she worked with, including bosses, have been rifted out of their positions, and it's not likely the rest of them will have a job soon, either. We're talking about people in all different aspects and positions of the job, not just the one she worked in.) What they ended up talking about was the lottery, and how when my mom won it she was going to take her friend and move to Hawaii. The way they got into this isn't important, because if you've read prior stories about my mom, you would understand this makes perfect sense just because it doesn't.
From here it led into a conversation about how everyone would pitch in for lottery tickets each week in hopes that they would win and be able to split the money. Back in the day when my mom worked there, she would pitch in, too. She asked her friend what the most was that they ever won since they were doing this long before she was working in the same office as them, and have continued to do it.
They had won $7. That's right. After years of doing the weekly lottery, the most they've ever won has been $7. And keep in mind that that isn't each. Oh no. The $7 had to be split between all four people. I'm sadly thinking that maybe my mom's chances of winning the lottery might be better than the four of them pitching in on a ticket. After all these years, I don't think Lady Luck is on their side. Beyond that, my mom's friend pointed out that when she wins the lottery part of that money is his just on pure standards alone, and as a consolation prize for never winning after all these years.
Too cute.
It also happens to be in the high 80's here today, and is far too hot to think about cooking. Especially when you don't have air conditioning. I ordered a pizza and was waiting until I could go and pick it up, since Pizza Hut does not deliver where I live. While doing this, The Wizards of Waverly Place came on. I had a few e-mails to check, so when my mom came in and asked if she could switch the channel to see the news and weather, I thought nothing of it. When she got the weather and urgently switched the channel back to The Wizards of Waverly Place, that caught my attention.
My mom watches the Disney Channel, but she hasn't been real fond of the shows they've been coming out with lately. I guess I missed the memo where she announced her liking towards The Wizards of Waverly Place, although I knew she liked Selena Gomez. None of these reasons were why she changed the channel.
In this certain episode there was a kid who had been raised by giants, but being as he was short, he wondered who his birth parents were and wanted to meet them. Alex was trying to help him behind everyone's back so that his parents didn't find out and become upset about this. My mom changed the channel because she "really had to know who his real parents were and what they looked like." Her words, not mine.
Mom, I am amused.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Princesa of the Fun
Ah, yes! Today is the day when I will finally share all of the fun stuff that I’ve had stored away to share. Okay, so I haven’t really had it stored away. I collected it all on the 23rd, but I haven’t had a chance to get it together, e-mail it to myself, scan it into my computer...you get the picture. (Get it, picture? Because they’re pictures! Oh boy.)
There’s a few things I want to say first, and then I’ll get on with the fun picture. Promise.
I had the best day today. (Edit, this was originally written on the 27th.) I decided last night that I would have a Princess Protection Program party and my puppy, Greta Hayley, could host it. Yes, I am nuts, I realize. I also realize that my dog can not host a party in all technicality, so I guess I take back saying that I’m nuts. There’s still a little girl inside of me that likes to have good, innocent fun, and this is what I wanted to do with my day. Besides, I had been waiting for P.P.P. to premiere since I saw the preview for it way back at the end of December, so I was psyched.
Today my mom and I took Greta to the pet store, picked out some things for the party, and then I ran in Wal-Mart to get some more things for us humans, as well as another special treat for the dogs, while she played with Greta.
I made my special Paw Print Puppy Popcorn Peanut Butter bones, and they were a hit. My mom made some treats off of a recipe that we had gotten from the shelter where we adopted Greta. They were also a hit.
I am glad to announce that the movie was super cute. I was concerned that I had gotten my hopes up for no reason, as the last two movies that Disney premiered on their channel this year, I was not thrilled with. They could have been cute, but something threw them off, which was disappointing considering all their movies that were done for the channel were always really, really cute.
P.P.P. definitely stood up to the standards that I’m used to them having, and if I’ve never mentioned it before, I LOVE Selena Gomez, who starred in the movie along with Demi Lovato. Selena is just the most adorable thing, so that made the movie ten times better. You can’t go wrong with anything that she’s in!
I’ve also decided that Princesa is just an awesomely cute name for an animal, and would be a great nickname for Greta Hayley.
Also, to politely sum up the whole SSI story, I spoke to the woman who was my caseworker. Basically, she did not pull all of my medical records, made assumptions on her own without the proof, and admittedly has no idea what happened to a whole group of papers that I physically took into the office for her to have, not to lose. Instead of calling me when those papers went missing and getting new copies, or calling around to all of the doctor's offices and getting all of my medical records, she simply made a decision based off the fact that she wanted to get me out of her way and move on. I’m sorry, but without all of my medical records, there was no way she could have made a fair and honest decision.
There’s several reasons that this is true, but other than the obvious, there’s the fact that three separate doctors have filled out paperwork for me stating that I absolutely can not stand for any period of time, bend, lift, carry things, or drive. These papers were filled out for the state for my health insurance coverage through them, and these are the papers I copied and physically took in to her. If she would not have lost them, she would have known this about me. This information was also in my medical records with those doctors. If she would have pulled those medical records, she would have known this.
Instead, in the extremely ignorant and aggressive letter I received, it stated that since I was able to stand for any length of time, bend, lift, carry things, and drive, that I needed to go out and get a job. Obviously, there’s just a whole lot of stupid going on here. I don’t know how else to put it. If she would have done her job, it is written in my records that I can not do any of these things, not a one. I have copies of these records in my own possession, so if I have them, she should have them, too, especially when I made copies and physically took them into the office for her.
I could tell she was uncomfortable speaking with me about my case. Many things I asked her she did not have answers for, and simply became quiet. Other times her only response was, “I made my decision.” She was very nice, but that’s really not the point here.
Also, in the midst of our conversation, she claimed she had no idea I had doctors appointments coming up. This is untrue for several reasons. First, I received two separate phone calls from her asking me when all of my doctors appointments were. I had appointments booked into October when I spoke with her on the phone those two times, and the second time she called was only because she “misplaced” the information I had given her the first time. My upcoming appointments were scheduled months before she even pulled my medical records, meaning, if she would have pulled them all, she would have seen that I had follow-up appointments coming up in the records as well.
I also contacted her two times to alert her of any new appointments I had made, since I knew I was supposed to do so. Again, I had appointments the entire way through October and she was aware of all of them. I have a witness to these conversations, and for her to say that she did not know about my appointments is absolutely untrue.
Thinking back, she had called me one time to ask me who I lived with. Not only had she called me three days prior and asked me the same question, but I was asked, and answered that same question more than once on the paperwork I filled out for SSI. Maybe I should have realized there was a problem then. Between that and her calling me to re-ask me when my appointments were, I should have most likely seen this coming.
In talking to her, I also brought up that she had collected my records off of a doctor that was not my doctor. She proceeded to tell me that, even though he was not my doctor, he worked in the same clinic as my doctor, and she retrieved the papers off of him. She assured me they were definitely my papers, as the birth date was correct. This wasn’t so bad until she told me that she also had a talk with this doctor about my treatment and medical history. This was infuriatingly confusing, to say the least. I have never heard of this doctor, far more ever even so much as had a consultation with him, so I am unsure of how he could have a conversation with her about my health. He should have thrown the conversation over to the doctor I was actually seeing, as it really wasn’t his place to speak on a patient he’s never so much as laid eyes on. This also happens to be the doctor who is in trouble with the medical board. Gee, I wonder why.
As for the whole “mental health disorder,” apparently in one of my files the doctor mentioned that there was a possibility that I had some anxiety. Well, yes, let’s be honest, everyone has anxiety from time to time. I am unsure of what doctor said this, however, when I asked, she absolutely refused to tell me. I will be going through the medical records in my possession to confirm this information.
Beyond that, though, if my “anxiety” was a real problem, I would have been sent to a psychologist and medicated. I brought this up to her, as she told me that their doctors had reviewed my files. They should be smart enough to figure out both of these things. I’m neither on medication for it, nor have I ever seen a psychologist, which means I have never been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Simply saying in passing that I have some anxiety does not mean I have a mental health disorder. She was completely and absolutely out of line, and fabricated this piece of information without any solid proof, or a diagnosis.
(Edit: In going through my medical records, I found a little gem that most certainly needs to be shared, as it makes this part of the story just ten times better. I had actually forgotten about this, as it it such a minor, non priority in my current health situation, that it ran fast and far from my mind, allowing it to focus on the situations that were being thrown at me left and right.
A good six months ago, I had gone to a lung doctor for my breathing issues. While we were talking, I had expressed to him that sometimes I could not breathe correctly for a few hours at a time, and when this happened, after about an hour, I found myself getting edgy, as not being able to breathe correctly for that amount of time is, no doubt, a scary thing.
In order to find out if these moments of edginess were panic attacks or anxiety, or if they were just caused by the pure fact that I couldn’t breathe correctly and was not getting the total amount of oxygen to my brain that I should be, as well as this just being damn scary, he gave me an anti anxiety pill to try. They ended up doing the exact opposite of what they should do, putting me more on edge, and actually making me anxious and unable to sleep. This is how we proved that I indeed did not have any kind of anxiety disorder, and these brief moments were caused by me simply not being able to breathe correctly. These moments also never occurred outside of these specific circumstances.)
I have spoken with several people prior to this chaos who told me that when I ran into issue with SSI, and I would, to go to a certain local state congressman. Apparently, this specific person is just absolutely wonderful to work with when it comes to SSI, and he has gotten many people SSI when other problems have arose. I am going to go to him, taking the medical records I have in my possession, and a copy of the papers I filled out to show all the doctors I had listed in which to retrieve my medical records from. I will also take the note I got from SSI, this way I can not only show him that they did not pull the records from all of my doctors, since the note states which doctors they did pull them from, but also, with medical records in hand, show him that my medical records directly contradict what is in the letter.
I think it’s important for him to know what is happening down at the SSI office, and particularly with the caseworker I had. I do not wish her any harm, nor do I want to be mean to her, but it is as simple as this; she did not do her job. She is being paid to obtain all of my medical information and not lose my files, but she did neither of those things. It needs to be known that this has been going on, because honestly, how many people could she really be hurting because of this? A lot.
I also want the congressman to see how unprofessional, ignorant, and aggressive the note I received was. Again, this is not a personal thing, but a professional one. The lady who wrote the letter had absolutely no right to assume things, use the language and verbiage she used with me, and offend me the way she did. Her job is simply to tell me that I was denied SSI and why. It is not to tell me in so many words that I am completely lazy, trying to live off of the state, and need to go and get a job, among other things. It is uncalled for. If my doctors can vouch for me being sick, she has no right to tell me I am not. She is not a doctor.
I am going to leave that as is for right now, but I’m sure I’ll come back to it later. I probably won’t get a meeting with the congressman for a few weeks, but I am not upset over this. I am confident that everything will work out, especially now that I know what really happened, and have the absolute proof to show the decision made was not based on what my doctors have said, but on the half assed job my caseworker did. I will also post pieces of the letter, as it is kind of a hoot if you're not me, once this gets further straightened out.
Okay, and now that I am done with all of that, on to the fun. I have several pictures to add to this blog, so I am super excited. I will start with the pictures I took on the 23rd, and then get into some interesting family photos.
The first picture up to bat is simply one of my grandma’s door display outside of her apartment. It’s not funny, but I thought the fake flowers arrangement was adorable, and I wanted to show it off. I will get to the funny right after this. For now, take a moment to notice how absolutely cute that is. I had to take a picture. I could not resist.
Next up we have the infamous Koala that Aunt Bev named Wendell after a man she used to go to church with. I just knew I had to eventually get a picture of Wendell to share. I apologize that the picture is so blurry and icky, but the lighting sucked and the only camera I had with me was the one on my Blackberry, so the resolution wasn’t the best, but you get the hint.
There’s a few things I want to say first, and then I’ll get on with the fun picture. Promise.
I had the best day today. (Edit, this was originally written on the 27th.) I decided last night that I would have a Princess Protection Program party and my puppy, Greta Hayley, could host it. Yes, I am nuts, I realize. I also realize that my dog can not host a party in all technicality, so I guess I take back saying that I’m nuts. There’s still a little girl inside of me that likes to have good, innocent fun, and this is what I wanted to do with my day. Besides, I had been waiting for P.P.P. to premiere since I saw the preview for it way back at the end of December, so I was psyched.
Today my mom and I took Greta to the pet store, picked out some things for the party, and then I ran in Wal-Mart to get some more things for us humans, as well as another special treat for the dogs, while she played with Greta.
I made my special Paw Print Puppy Popcorn Peanut Butter bones, and they were a hit. My mom made some treats off of a recipe that we had gotten from the shelter where we adopted Greta. They were also a hit.
I am glad to announce that the movie was super cute. I was concerned that I had gotten my hopes up for no reason, as the last two movies that Disney premiered on their channel this year, I was not thrilled with. They could have been cute, but something threw them off, which was disappointing considering all their movies that were done for the channel were always really, really cute.
P.P.P. definitely stood up to the standards that I’m used to them having, and if I’ve never mentioned it before, I LOVE Selena Gomez, who starred in the movie along with Demi Lovato. Selena is just the most adorable thing, so that made the movie ten times better. You can’t go wrong with anything that she’s in!
I’ve also decided that Princesa is just an awesomely cute name for an animal, and would be a great nickname for Greta Hayley.
Also, to politely sum up the whole SSI story, I spoke to the woman who was my caseworker. Basically, she did not pull all of my medical records, made assumptions on her own without the proof, and admittedly has no idea what happened to a whole group of papers that I physically took into the office for her to have, not to lose. Instead of calling me when those papers went missing and getting new copies, or calling around to all of the doctor's offices and getting all of my medical records, she simply made a decision based off the fact that she wanted to get me out of her way and move on. I’m sorry, but without all of my medical records, there was no way she could have made a fair and honest decision.
There’s several reasons that this is true, but other than the obvious, there’s the fact that three separate doctors have filled out paperwork for me stating that I absolutely can not stand for any period of time, bend, lift, carry things, or drive. These papers were filled out for the state for my health insurance coverage through them, and these are the papers I copied and physically took in to her. If she would not have lost them, she would have known this about me. This information was also in my medical records with those doctors. If she would have pulled those medical records, she would have known this.
Instead, in the extremely ignorant and aggressive letter I received, it stated that since I was able to stand for any length of time, bend, lift, carry things, and drive, that I needed to go out and get a job. Obviously, there’s just a whole lot of stupid going on here. I don’t know how else to put it. If she would have done her job, it is written in my records that I can not do any of these things, not a one. I have copies of these records in my own possession, so if I have them, she should have them, too, especially when I made copies and physically took them into the office for her.
I could tell she was uncomfortable speaking with me about my case. Many things I asked her she did not have answers for, and simply became quiet. Other times her only response was, “I made my decision.” She was very nice, but that’s really not the point here.
Also, in the midst of our conversation, she claimed she had no idea I had doctors appointments coming up. This is untrue for several reasons. First, I received two separate phone calls from her asking me when all of my doctors appointments were. I had appointments booked into October when I spoke with her on the phone those two times, and the second time she called was only because she “misplaced” the information I had given her the first time. My upcoming appointments were scheduled months before she even pulled my medical records, meaning, if she would have pulled them all, she would have seen that I had follow-up appointments coming up in the records as well.
I also contacted her two times to alert her of any new appointments I had made, since I knew I was supposed to do so. Again, I had appointments the entire way through October and she was aware of all of them. I have a witness to these conversations, and for her to say that she did not know about my appointments is absolutely untrue.
Thinking back, she had called me one time to ask me who I lived with. Not only had she called me three days prior and asked me the same question, but I was asked, and answered that same question more than once on the paperwork I filled out for SSI. Maybe I should have realized there was a problem then. Between that and her calling me to re-ask me when my appointments were, I should have most likely seen this coming.
In talking to her, I also brought up that she had collected my records off of a doctor that was not my doctor. She proceeded to tell me that, even though he was not my doctor, he worked in the same clinic as my doctor, and she retrieved the papers off of him. She assured me they were definitely my papers, as the birth date was correct. This wasn’t so bad until she told me that she also had a talk with this doctor about my treatment and medical history. This was infuriatingly confusing, to say the least. I have never heard of this doctor, far more ever even so much as had a consultation with him, so I am unsure of how he could have a conversation with her about my health. He should have thrown the conversation over to the doctor I was actually seeing, as it really wasn’t his place to speak on a patient he’s never so much as laid eyes on. This also happens to be the doctor who is in trouble with the medical board. Gee, I wonder why.
As for the whole “mental health disorder,” apparently in one of my files the doctor mentioned that there was a possibility that I had some anxiety. Well, yes, let’s be honest, everyone has anxiety from time to time. I am unsure of what doctor said this, however, when I asked, she absolutely refused to tell me. I will be going through the medical records in my possession to confirm this information.
Beyond that, though, if my “anxiety” was a real problem, I would have been sent to a psychologist and medicated. I brought this up to her, as she told me that their doctors had reviewed my files. They should be smart enough to figure out both of these things. I’m neither on medication for it, nor have I ever seen a psychologist, which means I have never been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Simply saying in passing that I have some anxiety does not mean I have a mental health disorder. She was completely and absolutely out of line, and fabricated this piece of information without any solid proof, or a diagnosis.
(Edit: In going through my medical records, I found a little gem that most certainly needs to be shared, as it makes this part of the story just ten times better. I had actually forgotten about this, as it it such a minor, non priority in my current health situation, that it ran fast and far from my mind, allowing it to focus on the situations that were being thrown at me left and right.
A good six months ago, I had gone to a lung doctor for my breathing issues. While we were talking, I had expressed to him that sometimes I could not breathe correctly for a few hours at a time, and when this happened, after about an hour, I found myself getting edgy, as not being able to breathe correctly for that amount of time is, no doubt, a scary thing.
In order to find out if these moments of edginess were panic attacks or anxiety, or if they were just caused by the pure fact that I couldn’t breathe correctly and was not getting the total amount of oxygen to my brain that I should be, as well as this just being damn scary, he gave me an anti anxiety pill to try. They ended up doing the exact opposite of what they should do, putting me more on edge, and actually making me anxious and unable to sleep. This is how we proved that I indeed did not have any kind of anxiety disorder, and these brief moments were caused by me simply not being able to breathe correctly. These moments also never occurred outside of these specific circumstances.)
I have spoken with several people prior to this chaos who told me that when I ran into issue with SSI, and I would, to go to a certain local state congressman. Apparently, this specific person is just absolutely wonderful to work with when it comes to SSI, and he has gotten many people SSI when other problems have arose. I am going to go to him, taking the medical records I have in my possession, and a copy of the papers I filled out to show all the doctors I had listed in which to retrieve my medical records from. I will also take the note I got from SSI, this way I can not only show him that they did not pull the records from all of my doctors, since the note states which doctors they did pull them from, but also, with medical records in hand, show him that my medical records directly contradict what is in the letter.
I think it’s important for him to know what is happening down at the SSI office, and particularly with the caseworker I had. I do not wish her any harm, nor do I want to be mean to her, but it is as simple as this; she did not do her job. She is being paid to obtain all of my medical information and not lose my files, but she did neither of those things. It needs to be known that this has been going on, because honestly, how many people could she really be hurting because of this? A lot.
I also want the congressman to see how unprofessional, ignorant, and aggressive the note I received was. Again, this is not a personal thing, but a professional one. The lady who wrote the letter had absolutely no right to assume things, use the language and verbiage she used with me, and offend me the way she did. Her job is simply to tell me that I was denied SSI and why. It is not to tell me in so many words that I am completely lazy, trying to live off of the state, and need to go and get a job, among other things. It is uncalled for. If my doctors can vouch for me being sick, she has no right to tell me I am not. She is not a doctor.
I am going to leave that as is for right now, but I’m sure I’ll come back to it later. I probably won’t get a meeting with the congressman for a few weeks, but I am not upset over this. I am confident that everything will work out, especially now that I know what really happened, and have the absolute proof to show the decision made was not based on what my doctors have said, but on the half assed job my caseworker did. I will also post pieces of the letter, as it is kind of a hoot if you're not me, once this gets further straightened out.
Okay, and now that I am done with all of that, on to the fun. I have several pictures to add to this blog, so I am super excited. I will start with the pictures I took on the 23rd, and then get into some interesting family photos.
The first picture up to bat is simply one of my grandma’s door display outside of her apartment. It’s not funny, but I thought the fake flowers arrangement was adorable, and I wanted to show it off. I will get to the funny right after this. For now, take a moment to notice how absolutely cute that is. I had to take a picture. I could not resist.
Next up we have the infamous Koala that Aunt Bev named Wendell after a man she used to go to church with. I just knew I had to eventually get a picture of Wendell to share. I apologize that the picture is so blurry and icky, but the lighting sucked and the only camera I had with me was the one on my Blackberry, so the resolution wasn’t the best, but you get the hint.
The next pictures are very close to my heart in the way that they make me laugh. I don’t know about all of you, but passive aggressive signage just amuses me. I am a huge fan of it, as well as the Passive Aggressive Notes website. I don’t come across a lot of notes to share with people, but I found two just in my grandma’s building alone, so I had to share.This first one isn’t so much aggressive, I guess, as it is just plain ironic and funny. I will lovingly entitle it, “The Keys That Went Home With Somebody Else.”
Here’s a closer view, just in case that one isn’t very clear for everyone.
This sign is really a gem for several reasons. Let’s just begin with the fact that everything is in capital letters. This makes an otherwise friendly and suggestive sign, aggressive. The lack of proper punctuation and the like also helps to win it an award in my book.What really throws it over the edge, however, is the irony. The person who lost their keys did not lose the keys to someone else’s car, but to his own. It would have been understandable if he had lost someone else's keys, considering the cars and the keys to them were moved around during the process of the car wash. He instead lost his very own keys, which really wins because those keys stayed stationary. For them to up and take off is a real mystery with a lot of talent behind it, no doubt.
For the record, my grandma also told me that this sign is rather old, meaning the car wash was not “yesterdays,” and to this day, they have yet to find the keys to said car.
Now we shall move on to the second sign. I don’t even know where to start, so I will not. I will just let you all read this sign before I comment. I call this one “When Granddaughters Do Your Bidding.”
In case you can’t read it well, the bottom says “Clean as a whistle keep it that way!!!” It’s written exactly like that, lack of punctuation and all. I was unable to get a better picture of it, because it is written really small.What really makes this sign is that it was obviously crafted by a child. The story behind it is that the lady who lives in this apartment is a complete neat freak. Apparently her granddaughter visits often, so she had her granddaughter make a sign for the door thinking that it would be less aggressive if it was obviously done by a child. I hate to tell the lady this, but it is not less aggressive, and possibly more offensive seeing as she had a kid write this. I believe my grandma said the granddaughter was five. Gees, they really teach them young these days.
Now we’re going to move onto a section of, let’s just say, “special” family photos. They really carry that certain sizzle. These were given to us by my grandma on the 23rd. All of these are pictures she’s carried with her through the years. I do not know who most of the people in the pictures are, so I apologize, but really, once you see them, who they are isn’t as important as what the heck they were thinking in the pictures. I will help you all figure it out.
Let me just start out with the cute picture first. This picture isn’t funny in any way, shape, or form, except that no one can figure out whose cat this is, and the picture isn’t even all that old compared to some of the ones I'm going to share.
But seriously, isn’t this just the most aww inducing thing ever? I mean, the color, the way it’s laying, the fact that it’s a cat. I had to add it for all those reasons alone.Next we will head right over to the second newest picture in the bunch, which isn’t saying a whole lot. This picture is of my great grandfather, but unless you were the one who took this picture, or knew whose residence that was, I doubt you’d know that, because for whatever reason, it was necessary to take the picture from this angle.
Oh yeah, isn’t that special? I can’t help but wonder if there was supposed to be a point to this picture, or if Great Grandma thought this was funny, being as I would assume she was the one who took the picture. Ah, great grandparents. It doesn’t get any better than that.
The moment I saw the next picture, I knew it had to go onto the internet somewhere along with snazzy little talk bubbles that would extend to you just what they were thinking. Although I decided against the talk bubbles, I will still share their thoughts below the picture. Now keep in mind that these aren’t their actual thoughts, but just what they look like they are thinking.
Before I get into what they’re saying, let me just tell you who the people in the picture are, so this makes more sense. This is a four generation photograph. The little girl is my Aunt Diane, the woman is my grandma, the man on the right is my great grandfather (yes, the one whose ass you looked at in the previous picture, just in case you were wondering what his face looked like) and the man to the left is his father.The crowning jewel in this picture is really the look on everyone’s faces, thus warranting some pretty fun mock thoughts. I imagine the thoughts in their head to be something to this effect. Also, on a side note, this picture is about fifty two years old, give or take a few years.
Aunt Diane: I have to pee. I really have to pee. I asked my mom if I could pee ten times, but she insisted I take this picture first. I don’t see how this is fair, because I have to pee. How in the heck am I supposed to smile when I have to pee so bad? This is the best smile she’s getting. I don’t care if it looks like I’m scared and I have to pee, because I really HAVE TO PEE! (If you knew my Aunt, you would know that this description fits her perfectly.)
Grandma: Wow, that light is really bright! Did anyone else notice how bright that light was from the camera? It damn near blinded me to death. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see again. In fact, stars are forming! I hope you can’t tell just how deer in the headlights I am in this picture. Wow, the shock, the horror, the sheer and utter wide eyed glory! (My grandma does swear, so I promise I’m not insulting her.)
Great Grandpa: Seriously, we just had to take this picture today? I have other things to do. Church is over, there’s a game on, and someone somewhere is cooking. Can’t we just hurry this up? This is the look I am going with, and it’s the best look you’re getting. I will not straighten my tie, because if I do that it will only take more time and I have better things to do today than stand here. (In all reality, great grandpa was one of the most calm, endearing, and gentle people you would ever want to meet. Most likely the look on his face in this picture was nothing more than his lack of excitement that he calmly carried with him wherever he went, but then again, this was after church and he did like his food.)
Great, Great Grandpa - I am so bored. Nothing could be more boring than standing here until someone finally puts their little finger on the button and snaps the picture. Bored, bored, bored, and unhappy about having to stand here. Did I mention that? Maybe I’ll go to sleep. Ahh! Bright light! Well, at least my eyes were open for this picture. (I've never met great, great grandpa, so I have no idea what he was thinking. I just thought he looked awfully bored and unthrilled by the whole situation.)
This next picture is funny for very obvious reasons. I’m not even going to try to explain it first. I’ll just post it and then give you all a minute with it.
I’m not really sure who this person is, but I’m not blaming them for this picture. How can I? They’re obviously not the one who snapped the picture. Of course, for all I know, maybe the woman chose that particular pose behind the bush because she thought it was just so snazzy and so 1950’s mod. This is something we will never know, but it makes for a pretty good humor piece on the blog. So, to whomever decided to take this picture in this specific pose, thank you. And I also want to thank that bush for just being there. Bravo! Your performance is award winning!The last three pictures are from a set that I’d like to call the “photo bomber pictures.” I think everyone knows what a photo bomber is, but for those who don’t, it’s someone who isn’t the subject of the picture, but somehow ends up in the picture and wrecking it whether it's on purpose or by sheer accident. They simply become the subject of the picture through their wrecking. These pictures have nothing in common except for the photo bomber tendencies of the (un)suspecting background creepers.
This first picture goes with the last one I posted. Apparently, someone was really into taking pictures of people behind bushes. I don’t know if the photographer was the same person or not. No one does, but I still can’t help but wonder if I missed something. Two pictures of people behind bushes! TWO? Gosh! Everyone, is there something I should know?
In this picture, what really gets me, though, is the photo bomber quality. If you look past the main woman in the picture, the one attempting to hide behind the bush and failing to do so, is someone who is failing even more at hiding behind the beams of the porch. She’s peeking out in such a creepy way that I have to wonder if she was purposely trying to photo bomb the picture, or, because of the way she’s positioned just so, if she really does suck that bad at hiding. My mom and I have had a conversation about this, and we really don’t know which it could be. It could go either way. Ah, little mysteries. If only you could have conversations with the dead.This next photo bomber picture, at first glance, doesn’t even seem like it would go into the photo bomber category. Go ahead, take a good look at it and see if you notice the said aforementioned bomber, as I didn't at first either. I was so into the oddness surrounding this picture, and yet somehow, considering the times, it’s not odd at all. It’s freakishly adorable, even if I do not know who all these people are.
Anyway; the photo bomber.
Did you spot him? No, you didn’t? Look just behind the small child on your right hand side. Still don’t see him? Look closer! He’s there. Still nothing? Click on the picture to enlarge it. He blends right the heck in with the background, which really, I would call him a true photo bomber, as it takes talent to blend right into a background of a picture that you’re not even supposed to be in, in the first place. I have to wonder, did the photographer know he was there?And last but not least, we have this little gem.
Obviously this is the newer of the pictures, but what really makes this picture is not just the way that no one seems to be paying a bit of attention to the camera, but the way that the photo bomber seems to be doing an exceptionally good job of not paying attention. He is so oblivious, in fact, that he just keeps walking like there’s really awesome, yet a somewhat boring flavor of ice cream that he needs to get to.
But the real win, my absolute favorite part of this picture, is not just that he’s unaware of the camera, or the picture being taken, but that he’s also unaware of the entire group of people standing just feet from him and talking. I have asked and this picture is from a small family reunion. He was indeed part of the family, but I guess he wasn’t real big on talking to the woman folk and gaggle of older gentleman.
And there you have it; the super fun blog that I had promised. Up next, I have an even more fun blog, and although it does not include pictures, I have several small, but fun stories to share, including one about my favorite obscurely random person, Aunt Bev, along with her faithful debauchery filled companion, my mom. The next blog is filled with so much fun, in fact, that I’ve even taken notes in not one, but two different places, people! I’m even thinking about finally getting around to reviewing not only New Moon, but Eclipse as well, as I’ve now finished both.
On the same token, please give me a little bit of time. I was taken into the ER early Wednesday morning - so early that it was still dark out - for TIA symptoms. This was not the first time I’ve had a TIA. Unfortunately, as is my life, the doctor in the ER is an old arch nemesis of mine, and we even went to my regular hospital over an hour away where all of my medical records are in an awesome computer system just to escape this particular guy.
He was a physician I used about five or six years ago. I stopped going to him because ha had a knack for not listening to what you were telling him was happening, and then prescribing you a bunch of pills for things that you weren’t even complaining about. I found out that I was not the only one with this complaint about him, and he also used to work at a nursing home where my great-grandparents were, and they also had the same issue with him. He was the only doctor in duty in the ER on that particular morning, and it was good to know nothing has changed with him. And by good, I mean I wonder why he’s still practicing medicine.
Long story short, he dismissed pretty much all of my symptoms. When I told him that I had a TIA previously and that it was diagnosed by not one, but three doctors, he looked at me and said this exactly. “You never had a TIA. You’re not the right type.” He hasn’t seen me in five or six years, three of my doctors I’m seeing now have diagnosed me with this, but suddenly he felt he was the expert on my health. He also did not pull my medical records which were accessible through the hospital computers, and then tried to medicate me for symptoms I was not having, as well as with a pill that actually makes me very sick.
Had he pulled my records or listened to us, he would have known that. I was checked out of the ER because obviously, I didn’t need to end up more sick by taking a medication that makes me extremely ill, as well as having him diagnose me AGAINST everything my current doctors are saying. That in itself was quite scary. The situation could have been really bad had I stayed and let him continue to go against my current doctors and their diagnosis of my health. Who knows what else he would have tried to give me in his overconfidence and want to push pills, or if he had continued to treat me without looking at my medical history. I will be writing a letter to both the hospital and my insurance company to let them know what has gone on.
What really got me, though, was that he walked in the room, took one look at me, never even asked me what symptoms I was having, and immediately diagnosed me. You can not diagnose someone without asking them what is happening with their own body. He also never gave me a physical exam, or attempted to touch me except for listening to my heart. My entire right side was numb, including my face, and yet he still ignored all of these symptoms.
Also, I was bleeding out of my nose and mouth, which he completely dismissed. I have talked to one of my current doctors about this and we found that I have a loose blood vessel in my nose. Since I will be having surgery to correct a deviated septum on both sides of my nose in just a few weeks, the loose blood vessel will also be corrected at that point in time. We’re still working on figuring out what caused the TIA.
But the real win, my absolute favorite part of this picture, is not just that he’s unaware of the camera, or the picture being taken, but that he’s also unaware of the entire group of people standing just feet from him and talking. I have asked and this picture is from a small family reunion. He was indeed part of the family, but I guess he wasn’t real big on talking to the woman folk and gaggle of older gentleman.
And there you have it; the super fun blog that I had promised. Up next, I have an even more fun blog, and although it does not include pictures, I have several small, but fun stories to share, including one about my favorite obscurely random person, Aunt Bev, along with her faithful debauchery filled companion, my mom. The next blog is filled with so much fun, in fact, that I’ve even taken notes in not one, but two different places, people! I’m even thinking about finally getting around to reviewing not only New Moon, but Eclipse as well, as I’ve now finished both.
On the same token, please give me a little bit of time. I was taken into the ER early Wednesday morning - so early that it was still dark out - for TIA symptoms. This was not the first time I’ve had a TIA. Unfortunately, as is my life, the doctor in the ER is an old arch nemesis of mine, and we even went to my regular hospital over an hour away where all of my medical records are in an awesome computer system just to escape this particular guy.
He was a physician I used about five or six years ago. I stopped going to him because ha had a knack for not listening to what you were telling him was happening, and then prescribing you a bunch of pills for things that you weren’t even complaining about. I found out that I was not the only one with this complaint about him, and he also used to work at a nursing home where my great-grandparents were, and they also had the same issue with him. He was the only doctor in duty in the ER on that particular morning, and it was good to know nothing has changed with him. And by good, I mean I wonder why he’s still practicing medicine.
Long story short, he dismissed pretty much all of my symptoms. When I told him that I had a TIA previously and that it was diagnosed by not one, but three doctors, he looked at me and said this exactly. “You never had a TIA. You’re not the right type.” He hasn’t seen me in five or six years, three of my doctors I’m seeing now have diagnosed me with this, but suddenly he felt he was the expert on my health. He also did not pull my medical records which were accessible through the hospital computers, and then tried to medicate me for symptoms I was not having, as well as with a pill that actually makes me very sick.
Had he pulled my records or listened to us, he would have known that. I was checked out of the ER because obviously, I didn’t need to end up more sick by taking a medication that makes me extremely ill, as well as having him diagnose me AGAINST everything my current doctors are saying. That in itself was quite scary. The situation could have been really bad had I stayed and let him continue to go against my current doctors and their diagnosis of my health. Who knows what else he would have tried to give me in his overconfidence and want to push pills, or if he had continued to treat me without looking at my medical history. I will be writing a letter to both the hospital and my insurance company to let them know what has gone on.
What really got me, though, was that he walked in the room, took one look at me, never even asked me what symptoms I was having, and immediately diagnosed me. You can not diagnose someone without asking them what is happening with their own body. He also never gave me a physical exam, or attempted to touch me except for listening to my heart. My entire right side was numb, including my face, and yet he still ignored all of these symptoms.
Also, I was bleeding out of my nose and mouth, which he completely dismissed. I have talked to one of my current doctors about this and we found that I have a loose blood vessel in my nose. Since I will be having surgery to correct a deviated septum on both sides of my nose in just a few weeks, the loose blood vessel will also be corrected at that point in time. We’re still working on figuring out what caused the TIA.
I could probably rant about this, as I’m still pretty upset, especially considering I’m not feeling much better and am now struggling to figure out what is causing this to happen. I will hopefully be up and ready to lick the world in the next couple of days, but at this point, I’m nowhere near that. I already had ninety percent of this blog typed up for about a week now, hadn’t had time to post it, and really just wanted to get it finished and posted today. It has taken me all day. So my apologies, but I promise I’ll be back and kicking soon.
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