Toothless Wonder

In my last post, I talked about the horrible tooth infection that was causing me so much pain, and the dentist that didn't help me at all. (Yes, I realize that I posted that WAAAAY back at the beginning of February. What can I say--I'm a slacker.) Well, later that month, I had a seizure while standing in front of a Dollar Tree store waiting for my Uber to arrive, and ended up in the ER. Four stitches in my right eyebrow, a slight concussion, and as the topper, the impact with the sidewalk knocked that bridge so loose that I've had to have it removed. After much searching, I was given an appointment at the OHSU Dental School, and had high hopes of getting things fixed there, but it was not to be. My insurance wouldn't cooperate with all of the other things that needed to be done, and I was getting desperate. So, I returned to the same dental office I'd been to before, fearful of running into Dr. Idiot again. My luck had changed! He is no longer there, and the staff I've dealt with since is truly FABULOUS-- and, I will say, all quite good-looking, as well.

Decisions had to be made about how to fix things, and I chose to have them remove the few upper teeth I had left, and make an upper denture-- all things that my insurance will pay for. This involved quite a bit more pain, since that tooth that had been infected was a bitch to get pulled. I swear, the root on that thing went all the way up my head and wrapped around a time or two. After the doctor finished with that side of my mouth, I went home and was ready to curl up and die for a few days. And here is why I like these guys so much: because we'd had so much trouble & pain with the left side of my mouth, they gave me the option to use laughing gas for the right side, which is apparently not done very much anymore. I jumped at the chance, and ended up sleeping through most of the extractions. While there was still some residual pain, it was much less, because the spot where those shots were given hurt! Two weeks ago I had my first impressions made for the denture, and later this week, I go back for a second one. I was hoping to have teeth in time for Halloween, but Mr Ji (the denture wizard) says that the first or second week of November is more likely. So at least I'll be able to actually eat Thanksgiving dinner, and let me tell you, I will be incredibly thankful for that! I am so sick of soft foods and gumming foods into submission that I could cry. My stomach is calling out for a plate of crunchy tacos with green chile and lots of cheese, or a bunch of spiral-sliced with a side of green beans. Maybe a big thick steak, nice and rare, dipped in A-1. Okay, I have to stop now, I'm starting to drool.  Soup just isn't a substitute for any of this stuff. My toothless days cannot end too soon!

List It Or Lose It

I like making lists, but if you've read many of these posts, you've probably noticed that. Lists keep me sane, or at close to it as I come. I make lists of things I need to do, things I want to do, things to buy, things to sell, and all sorts of other lists. I have entire journals filled of lists: what I'd like my dream home to look like, what I'd like my dream man to be like (that's actually the most difficult list), lists of items I'd have in my dream wardrobe, the songs I'd record if I made a cover album, favorite books & movies & songs, things I love, things I hate, things I cannot live without, and things I'd be happy to never see again. Sometimes at night when I can't sleep and my brain just won't shut up, I lie in the dark and give myself a topic to make a list. For example, bands from the 1970's, going from A to Z, or a list of 25 female characters I really disliked. I usually go in alphabetical order on these lists at night, simply because it helps me keep things in order, and I seldom get all the way to Z before falling asleep.This is how obsessive I get about lists: when I was taking the medication Topamax, my neurologist would give me a quiz each visit to test how it was affecting my verbal skills. He'd give me a letter, and in 60 seconds I had to come up with as many words (no proper nouns, nothing that I'd just said with a modifier --no green then greener) beginning with that letter as I could. I usually did very well on this test, not as well as I thought I should, but I stayed in the top percentile until I'd been on Topamax for several years, and then I started having real trouble finding words. But the lists--after each visit, I would spend my ride home on the bus making a list of words; I'd have always asked the doctor for the list he wrote down as I said them during the test, and then I went from there, until I'd have pages of my journal or dayplanner filled with words. It annoyed me so that I only got a minute to do the first list, and I knew I could do better. When I told my doctor about this, he asked me two questions: "does it make you feel better?" and "how many words do you come up with?" Since I was worried he'd tell me this was a sign I was crazy, I was happy to tell him that yes, it did, and for one letter I came up with nearly 250 words before the bus got to my stop.

My lists are almost always on paper; I've tried the list-making apps on my phone and tablet, and it just isn't the same. I use one occasionally for my grocery list, because it's easier, and I don't lose it. But for my other lists, those that are for my soul, I need the feel of a pen on paper, or hands on a keyboard. I think this is one of the reasons I like sites like Pinterest so much--it's essentially a bunch of lists of stuff people like! I can spend hours just reorganizing my own pins, just getting lost in nothing... Wow.

So. There's a site called listography.com and I love it. Reading other people's lists is fun, and I just signed up, so now I'll be posting my own! https://listography.com/readbetweenthewhines?m=6404158689 That's me. And I have a list posted, so go and read!

Dejection

I know that nearly everyone on the internet has written something about death and depression in the last week, and so I hesitated to write this. After all, I don't want to be like everyone else, now do I? But frankly, the issues I'm writing about here have been on my mind for much longer than a week or two, and Robin Williams' death only served to bring some of them to public attention again. I haven't posted since the end of July, and these mental health issues are why.

I don't feel much these days and it is causing me to do some big thinking. I've no problem with anger; getting angry is easy. But everything else is nearly impossible. I know what started this, but how to fix it is a whole other kettle of fish. I don't trust emotions much any more, especially since I am not feeling that many of them, and when I do, they are bad. I've always let my heart, or my "gut" guide me, and for the most part, it's gotten me in trouble. It started with Steven, and all the crap he put me through, and then got worse after Michele died. Her death, and especially her memorial service were very difficult for me; even though we knew she wasn't going to make it. But that service just about killed me. I physically shut down, was ill for nearly days. I ended up spending most of the time I was in my home town in bed, rather than seeing people, which I regret. Losing her, my best friend for over 30 years, was devastating. I miss her every day. 

 I'm spending too much time wanting to sleep, hide in my room, or just vanish into my mind these days, and it worries me. They say if you're worried about the state of your mental health, then there's nothing to worry about, but I am not sure that's true. I can worry about having a panic attack and still have one (or two or three); I can be nervous that I'll not make it through the week without a slightly manic episode (I've not been diagnosed, but I likely have low-grade bipolar disorder 2) and still have one and end up spending money that I don't have, or something else I shouldn't do. I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder --also known as Clinical Depression-- along with a type of seasonal affective disorder. I'm just a bunch of fun. I fight against demons of health, physical and mental, every day, and it's getting really old. There are days I just feel like giving in, finding a nice looney bin and checking myself in. While I was watching television the other night, I was almost jealous of the guy in the mental health treatment center; he looked so content. Part of me just wants to climb inside my mind and hide forever. Of course, that is kind of what I am doing these days, isn't it? I just hide in books, and movies, and internet crap. 

I am scared of so much--things I was never afraid of before. Anxious and worried so much of the time. I want to stay in bed. When I think about going out, I start getting nervous, and if I think about it too long, the panic attack starts. My heart starts racing, I start tracing, I feel faint, can't breathe, and my fingers get tingly. Then all I can do is close my eyes, take deep breaths, and hide somewhere private until it passes. It's easier to stay in my room. 

Reading Coleridge doesn't help, though...

 

 

 

 

Getting To Know Me...

Recently I came across this list of questions on a blog, and decided to post them, and their answers, simply because I like talking about myself, and can never do it enough!

Getting to know me:

1.  What time did you get up this morning?  I woke up around 7, the first time, and went back to sleep, finally getting out of bed just before 10.


2.  How do you like your steak? Rare, with A-1!


3.  What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Magic Mike!


4.  What is your favorite TV show? Tie between True Blood, Sherlock & Bones. Although I've not watched Bones at all this season...


5.  If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? I'd love to live on a Coast, near the ocean. Always been my dream. Or back in New Mexico.


6.  What did you have for breakfast? Today was a strange day: I had tuna & Triscuits for breakfast, and my smoothie for lunch.


7. What is your favorite cuisine? Toss up between Chinese/Asian and Italian, depending on my mood.


8.  What foods do you dislike?  "Goopy" foods, like potato salad, coleslaw- almost anything mayonnaise based. My mother apparently makes great potato salad, and always asks if I want some. 46 years, and I've always said "EWW, gross, no!!" You think she'd stop asking.


9. Favorite Place to Eat? Olive Garden, or the Tik Tok Diner.


10.  Favorite dressing? real Cesar dressing.


11.  What kind of vehicle do you drive? I don't drive anymore: my last car was a Honda Accord. My dream car would either be something retro, like a '57 Chevy, or something small & green, like a mini Cooper or a Bug. Painted a fabulous color, of course!


12. What are your favorite clothes?  Comfort is my watch word--I love yoga pants, leggings, tee shirts, big sweaters, cardigans and fuzzy socks.


13.  Where would you visit if you had the chance? The Smithsonian & The Library of Congress. London and Paris. EVERYWHERE!


14.  Cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full? Full...


15.  Where would you want to retire?  The beach...


16. Favorite time of day? I rock 11:45 a.m. like nobody's business!


17. Where were you born? Custer, South Dakota. My dad always tells me I was the cutest baby in the hospital. Then someone points out that I was the only baby in the hospital...


18.  What is your favorite sport to watch?  Um...men's figure skating.


19.  Bird watcher? Not really, although I'd love to see the California Condors in the wild.


20.  Are you a morning person or a night person? Neither one.


21.  Do you have any pets? MissGoogle, my adorable kitty.


22.  Any new and exciting news you'd like to share? Cleaned my room...


23. What did you want to be when you were little?  Cher, or a teacher. I got to be a teacher. Maybe someday I'll be Cher.


24.  What is your best childhood memory?  In the back seat of our station wagon at night, Jolene asleep beside me, Mom at the wheel, watching the stars out the window as we drove down the highway, the radio playing softly, as we drove to South Dakota for our summer vacation. I always felt so safe and happy then.


25.  Are you a cat or dog person? Cat.


26.  Are you married? Not anymore.


27.  Always wear your seat belt? Yep. Saved my life once.


28.  Been in a car accident? A few, caused by my epilepsy. This is why I don't drive anymore.


29.  Any pet peeves?  I am so easily irritated, it isn't even funny.... But big ones are spitting (gross);  people who misuse "you're" & "your" "their" & "they're"; and leaf blowers.


30.  Favorite Pizza Toppings? Bacon.


31.  Favorite Flower? Tulips and roses


32. Favorite Ice cream? Almost anything...all ice cream is good! Strawberry cheesecake, pb fudge, and pralines & cream!


33. Favorite fast food restaurant? Jack In the Box, or Burgerville, if I'm feeling flush!


34.  Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Assuming I don't have to pay the bill, Powell's Books, or maybe Macy's.


35.  Broccoli? Roasted broccoli with garlic salt is one of my favorite things!


36.  What was your favorite vacation? Visiting Michele in Toronto. Also my saddest...


37.  Last person you went out to dinner with? Charlie, my ex-husband & friend.


38.  What are you listening to right now?  The Color Purple Soundtrack


39.  What is your favorite color? purple & blue.


40.  How many tattoos do you have? None, yet.


41. Coffee Drinker?  Oh, yes. I tried to give it up, but I'm weak...


42. What is your job title?  Early Childhood Educator; reader; blogger; sister; aunt; daughter; friend; Queen of Procrastination.


43.  What do you do all day?  Read, surf the web, hang out with my family, play with MissGoogle, watch tv, attempt to better myself, read some more. Listen to music. Eat.  


44. What is your favorite thing to do with your time?  READ.


45.  What book should everyone read?  I'll give ya four: The Color Purple, by Alice Waters; Welcome To The Great Mysterious by Lorna Landvik (also read Patty Jane's House of Curl, by her!); Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry; and A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving.


46.  What movie should every one watch?  Some Like It Hot. Marilyn Monroe, Jack Lemmon, Tony Curtis.


47. What is your credo?  “Never put off till tomorrow what may be done day after tomorrow just as well". -Mark Twain

Blood and Poetry

I went to college. Actually, I went to several colleges, and changed my major several times before I finally finished, but that's totally not the point. The BA I finally ended up with is in English:Creative Writing:Poetry, with a minor in Theater. Yes, that's a degree that will get you a job in any field!

I always enjoyed poetry, although I'm still not sure why I chose to major in it. I'm more of a reader than a writer, in spite of the many aspirations my mother has for me. I did put together a collection (a "thesis" if you will) for my final project, and gave many readings for classes. That part I was good at; I'd never had a problem being in front of others. But over the years I've written less and less, and I miss it. In an effort to get back in the groove, so to speak, I dug up as many of my old poems as I could find. Aren't you lucky--I'm going to post some of them! (Be afraid, be very afraid!)

Before we get to today's poem, can someone explain to me why, when I am feeling low, watching a show like Dexter, or reading a Jonathan Kellerman novel, full of blood and mayhem, monsters and murder, makes me feel so much better? It can't just be me, or these things wouldn't be as popular as they are, right? I've spent the last two days watching Dexter on Netflix, while doing all the other things I need to do. And yes, I suddenly feel so much more normal. Really, compared to most of the characters on this show, I'm a paragon of mental health. Good to know.

And now for the literary portion of today's post! One of my favorites. Enjoy.

 

Wilhelmina

In a hypothetical world,

I am a bimbo goddess of poetry,

Enshrined in my coffeehouse castle,

my words the songs of a generation.

Attended by sugary seraphim upon my beachside throne,

my name resonates on the tongues of cappuccino demigods.

He, bespectacled, brilliant, falls at my feet,

quoting darkly my childlines.

As gilded graces join us in our dance,

we whirl through a city of stars into

our moonpalace home.

Fall through velvet loveclouds into beds of miracles.

Strongly carefree of wings or wheels,

tasting of copper and chocolate,

a literary, bad-­tempered love of scarlet phrases in my head.

He whispers, solemn:

“God has spoken, and he sounds like Elvis.”

Talk Nerdy To Me

Let's talk about nerd-dom. My nerdiness. It's my blog, nobody reads it but me, I'll talk about what I want, and you can't do a thing to stop me, nyah-nyah-nyah. I can write all about how I spend way too much time reading Drarry fanfiction, or watching Glee (or listening to music from Glee while reading Drarry stories--that's the best!), and nobody would care! Ah, the joys of the internet.

But first, I must point out that I am not a geek, or a dork. A geek is smart enough to create and fix things like computers, etc., and I am not. A dork doesn't really get anything. A nerd both understands and is into really cool stuff. That's me.

Yes, I do enjoy Harry Potter fanfiction, and I do not care if you think that makes me a nerd, because I embraced my nerdiness way back in Junior High when I sang a Barry Manilow song in front of the entire school. Yes, I am THAT big a nerd. I am a Barry Manilow-loving, Doctor Who-watching, Firefly-missing, Sherlock-worshipping, fanfiction-reading, nerd. And I am damn proud of it. In some respects, I guess this makes me a hipster, because I was dorky long before it was cool, and I was happy being this way. I've never really wanted to be anything but who I am.

In high school, I had good friends, and while we weren't the popular crowd, we got along with everyone, and we had a ton of fun. We were primarily choir and theater geeks, and most of us made good grades as well. At the time I thought we were all staying away from drugs and alcohol, although I know now that wasn't true for all of us; either way, we had a lot of fun just being totally stupid, as teenagers tend to do. I never remember wanting to be any "cooler" than we were; I thought we were fabulous then, and I still do. Mostly. Except for the friend I've since discovered was stoned pretty much since eighth grade. That just pisses me off, although it does explain a bit about him.

In college, it was pretty much the same. Weird friends, just older. Different states, different things, and eventually, a bit of that alcohol. Either way, we were all some kind of misfit toy, and it worked.

Anyway. All these years later, even with Michele gone, I am still listening to Barry, still spending most of my Friday nights watching bad movies and occasionally eating pizza. Not the same movie anymore, thank god. And nobody will let me get Hawaiian pizza anymore, which is okay, since I've had my fill.

I'm still a nerd. If I had friends nearby, I'm sure we'd be sitting around a coffee shop somewhere, laughing until one of us spit coffee out our nose. Heaven for me will involve lots of time in cozy cafes with Michele, Elissa, Louis, Doug, Andy, Demere, Marina, Christopher, Lori & Don, Marty, Eric, Kathy, Karen, Leslie, Kenny, Wes, Teri, Monica, Fay, and so many more. Lots of time just being nerdy with the friends I love.

Tell Me a Story

It's been nearly two months since my last post. I am a slacker. In my defense, I DID spend two weeks of that time without vision, after I scratched my eyeball and had to go without contacts while it healed. Since I don't have a pair of glasses at the moment (and for some reason, we never found time to make it to the nearest vision center), and I am blind as the proverbial bat (without the great hearing), I was pretty much stuck in a chair, doing nothing.

"But, Jonna," I hear you ask, "How is that any different than your normal, everyday, vision-filled life?"

Yeah, shut up.

I know I'm a slacker, you know I'm a slacker, we all know, Jonna's a slacker. Old news. They don't call me the Queen of Procrastination for nothing! My friend and fellow blogger/slacker, Tara of tarapieceofpaper went seven months between posts, and she actually has a life and stuff to write about, so I don't feel so bad!

Anyway. While blind, or blurry, I discovered that audio books are actually kinda nifty, if the person reading them doesn't sound like Daffy Duck. Until now the only experience I had with them was listening to a few celebs read their memoirs, which I enjoyed. Craig Ferguson, my favorite comedian and talk show host, has written two books, and I own his memoir on tape. This time, I broadened my horizons, first trying a book I was halfway through reading. I had to give that up, because the reader was terrible. I am assuming she is related to the author or sleeping with the producer, because otherwise, nobody would hire her to read for a living. Remember the actress with the horrible voice in "Singin' In the Rain?" Yeah. This was her, only younger, and with a Southern accent.

So I gave up on that book and moved on to others, all of which were better, I am happy to say. My choices ranged from new age (Depak Choprah) to Stephen Fry reading short stories, to poetry collections, and podcasts. And I listened to Carol Burnett read her memoirs, too. She's always been one of my hero, so that was wonderful!

Now, I can see again, but I've not given up on audio books. It's so nice to have someone else read to me for a change. When insomnia strikes, as it often does, I just slip on my headphones, lay in the dark, and a soft voice tells me a story. Who wouldn't love that?

20 Questions for my 45th

Yesterday was my 45th birthday, and on the whole, it was pretty anti-climactic. I spent most of the day enjoying the benefits of Comcast on demand by watching Season 1 of Shameless. Between that I sat outside in the sun and read, which was lovely. Just having sunshine was a luxury! Oh, and I answered all the birthday greetings from friends on Facebook; that was excellent. I got a wonderful birthday gift from my sister & nephew, which they picked out weeks ago at a reptile show they went to. No, it isn't a lizard, it is an awesome Southwesterny owl necklace. I love it!

The last year of my life has been full of so much turmoil, so many ups and downs. While I have made some changes, I've mostly been sitting here, in my chair, stagnating. If there's one thing I know, it's that stagnant water STINKS! I am so tired of my life stinking. Starting now, starting here, I am churning up the water, changing my life. (Yes, I know I've said that dozens of times before. Shut up. I mean it this time.)

These questions came from a post titled 20 Questions You Should Ask Yourself Every Sunday on a blog about productive living. I am using them here as a way to give myself a guide for goals, etc. Honestly, this seems like a lot of things to worry about every single Sunday, and I'd only ask myself all these questions every six months or so. Don't expect profound answers, people. If you are looking for genius, what the hell are you doing here? Seriously? Anyway, here we go.  Text in italics is from the original post, these are my answers.

 

1. What did I learn last week? – If you have trouble answering this question, it’s time for a change.  It doesn’t matter how old you are, you should learn something new every week.  That baby powder doesn't get rid of ants; that baking with gluten free flour is not that easy; and that I have no wish to date or do anything else with guys from Craigslist.


2. What was my greatest accomplishment over the past week? – Reflecting on your accomplishments is a healthy way to raise self confidence and contentment.  It’s also an effective way to track your progress.  Umm, I didn't do much of anything last week. Big fibro flare, all sorts of health issues. However, I managed to read about 6 books, not a record for me, but pretty good. And while I have not lost any weight, I've not gained, either.


3. Which moment from last week was the most memorable and why? – It may open up your mind to new passions and goals, or simple pastimes worth revisiting. So much fun just goofing around with Max. He was on Spring Break, and was sick half the week, but when he was feeling good, he and I took turns teasing each other in the odd little way that we do. It reminded me how much I love kids, and love being social, things I miss, hiding in my room.


4. What’s the #1 thing I need to accomplish this week? – Everything else is secondary, and should be treated as such.  Nevertheless, this question will also shine light on other noteworthy tasks. The same thing I needed to accomplish last week--get my ass out of this chair and EXERCISE!! My biggest goal for this year is to get healthy, and lose weight. The only way I can really do that is by exercise, which I never do. 


5. What can I do right now to make the week less stressful? – Set reminders in your calendar, get your laundry done, fill the car with gas… organize yourself. My doctor said I should schedule in exercise, thinking that would make me more likely to do it. When she told me this, I, of course did nothing; now I am thinking it's the right idea. 


6. What have I struggled with in the past that might also affect the upcoming week? – The idea here is to learn from your struggles and better equip yourself for future encounters. Pain. Last week was full of pain. And the coming weeks likely will be, as well. I am hoping that more exercise will help with some of the pain, and will allow me to break free of the evil ibuprofen monster which is messing up my tummy. 


7. What was last week’s biggest time sink? – Steer clear of this in the future.  Setup physical barriers against distractions if you have to. Television is always my biggest distraction. I may have to hide my remote. And the chargers for my electronics, so I don't spend too much time online. 


8. Am I carrying any excess baggage into the week that can be dropped? – Physical clutter, mental clutter… eliminate the unnecessary so the necessary may shine bright. Oh, I could spend weeks cleaning up just physical baggage. My little room is small, and I will work on getting rid of more junk this week. I got rid of a lot of clothes a few weeks ago. But magazines, papers, and other crap still needs to go. Big fun.
   


9. What have I been avoiding that needs to get done? – Pencil in a time to get these things done.  For any 2-minute or less tasks, consider scheduling them first thing Monday morning. Didn't I just cover this?


10. What opportunities are still on the table? – If it’s still available and you want it, make a concrete plan to go after it this week. I'm writing. Not as much as I should, but I am. And I will figure out two things soon: a job, and a place to live. These will be on hold until after my disability hearing on April 18th. Once this limbo is decided, one way or the other, I will make a decision. 


11. Is there anyone I’ve been meaning to talk to? – Regular communication can solve problems before they fester.  Always keep an open line of communication to those around you. Yes, some near, and some far. I'd rather not mention names here, but just know some of you will be getting a phone call or email this week.


12. Is there anyone that deserves a big ‘Thank You’? – Take time each week to thank the people who have helped you.  Your kind gesture will not go unnoticed. My baby sister, Jolene. She's been here for me throughout everything, and never gets enough credit from anyone for everything she does. Same goes for my mom. 


13. How can I help someone else this coming week? – The easiest way to get what you want is to help others get what they want.  If you help them, they will remember you when you need help. I am a lazy bugger, and do very little around the house to pull me weight. I chip in when asked, but I should do more...


14. What are my top 3 goals for the next 3 years? – You’ll never make any progress in life if you don’t setup realistic goals for yourself. This is a difficult one. Three years, three things. 1) Get my own place again. 2) Get my book written  3) lose 100 pounds


15. Have any of my recent actions moved me closer to my goals? – If the answer is no, something needs to change. I'm starting on writing, but on the others, not so much...


16. What’s the next step for each goal? – Knowing the next step is the key to accomplishing the whole. I don't have an answer for this. Any ideas?


17. What am I looking forward to during the upcoming week? – The answer can act as a great source of motivation.  If nothing exists, schedule something to look forward to. I don't have plans yet, but I'm working on it. Suggestions?
    


18. What are my fears? – Consciously address your fears each week and slowly work on resolving them.  It’s all about taking baby steps. My biggest fear now is about that upcoming disability hearing, and it's outcome. I've been waiting for a year for this to happen, and I am, frankly, terrified, that these people who know nothing about me, will decide that I am "cured" of a lifelong disability, and will  cut off my health insurance. I can figure out a way to get by without the money, but I need that insurance; without it, I have no way to pay for medications, doctor visits, etc. And then I am back where I started, with seizures all the time, pain and suffering.  


19. What am I most grateful for? – It’s a smart way to keep things in perspective, and something you should never lose sight of. Every single day I am grateful to be alive, grateful that I have a family who loves and helps me. 


20. If I knew I only had one week to live, who would I spend my time with? – Another helpful reminder… Life is short.  Spend more time with the people you care about. I'd tell my family how much I loved them, every day. I'd find a way to get to Albuquerque, and see the friends there that I miss so much. Elissa, Kathy, Karen, and the rest (anybody else hearing the Gilligan's Island theme song?). 

 

These are my 20 questions, and my answers, such as they are. Someone told me last week that 45 isn't a landmark birthday. Well, for me it feels like it, especially since I know so many who never made it this far. I miss Michele every single day, and will, for the next 45 years, or until I see her again.

A Howling

I'm writing this post on an airplane to Grand Junction, where tomorrow we're having a memorial service for Michele. Whenever mother called to tell me of the service, and ask if I would like to say something, there was never any doubt in my mind. Yes.
That was just over a week ago, and I am still unsure what I'll be saying tomorrow.

Since Michele died in April, there has been a gaping hole in my life. A small tear that opened when she first told me she was sick, and grew larger with each progression of theater, until that day when she was gone. Leaving this rent in the fabric of my world. Our world, for there are many of us grieving her.
I've tried to read books by others who have lost loved ones, but never repast the first few chapters. Then I either begin crying so hard I can no longer see the page, or I become annoyed at the self-righteous tone taken by some, and my anger overflows. Either way , I end up crying.
While reading 'Wild'  by Cheryl Strayed, a memoir about a woman who hikes the Pacific Crest Trail after her mother dies of cancer, I stumbled on a passage that summed up exactly how I have felt in the last year.
"I almost howled in agony. I almost choked to death on what I knew.... I was going to live the rest of my life without my mother."
Strayed says she felt this way from the moment her mother received her diagnosis; her cancer was so advanced there was no hope. Yet for me, these words say exactly how I have felt since I received that phone call, saying Shel was gone.
Inside my mind, my soul, there is a constant howling, a never ending scream of pain and sadness, loss and grief. The person I loved most in the world is gone, and I am alone. For the rest of my life.
We will never race wheelchairs through the rest home, and annoy the nurses. We'll never make it to see Barry Manilow sing in Vegas, or do our Copa dance wearing the feathered hats we made. I'll have to sit through the next class reunion alone. And without her, I have nobody to call and tell my life to.
Every day I miss her. That will never end. I believe the noise of grief inside me will quiet down; I'm hoping tomorrow's memorial will help with that.
Until we are together again, I will grieve. I miss you, Michele.

First Step

After months of being unsure about what to do with the next in my life, a Facebook post on conversation with an old friend has clarified some things. I know what I'm doing next. Kind of.

Yesterday, my friend Elissa, who I've known since wee both were students at what was then Mesa College in our hometown of Grand Junction,  posted that she's thinking of opening a school. After five years of saying no to God's prodding, she's saying yes. She called, and we talked about it, and about the possibilities of my joining her in this venture (along with the reasons for the school, which I won't get into, because that's her story, not mine), and somehow, we got into a discussion about my returning to school for my Master's degree.

I have a BA in English, and a few years ago, right after my divorce, I began classes for the graduate program in Early Childhood Education at Portland State University. I enjoyed the classes, but I was very nervous about taking the test required for actual admittance, and my financial aid was shaky. So I quit. (I've quit a lot of things in my life; it's a pattern I'm not proud of, one I'm trying to change.)

I always loved being in school, and I miss it. If you look at my college transcripts, that's obvious: I studied at three different schools, changed my major a number of times, and took ten years to finally graduate! Then I took courses at two community colleges later!  Up until the last four years, I'd spent most of my life in a classroom of some sorts, either as a student or a teacher. No wonder I've felt so lost these last few years; I've away from my native soil!

With a Master's degree in ECE, and all my years of teaching experience, I could qualify as a Director of a preschool, which would be pretty nifty. I've not made a decision yet what degree to pursue, just that I'm going to do it.It's at least the beginning of a plan. Taking a step forward in my life, even if it's a baby step.And oddly enough, I'm not scared at all this time.

God will put me where He wants me to be, doing what He wants me to do. I've always believed He had a plan for me, that He was watching over me for some reason, and I'm pretty sure that sitting in this chair watching Golden Girls reruns isn't it. He kept me safe - well, alive, anyway - through all those seizures, and accidents caused by seizures - car accidents, falls in the shower, tumbles down stairs,  all that crap -  and I don't think it was so I could end up sitting around, doing nothing, wishing for a different life, making no impact on the world around me, or even the world within me. He didn't create me to be this barren landscape.

Book Review: The Night Season

The Night Season by Chelsea Cain
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Chelsea Cain has been credited with making the serial killer genre "female friendly." I can't say if that's true or not, but she does write one hell of a book! The Night Season is #4 in the Gretchen Lowell Series, and it is another fabulous thriller. The one issue I have is that Gretchen Lowell only appears in two paragraphs, at the very end! Her presence is felt throughout the book, as Portland police detective Archie Sheridan searches for a killer. The Willamette River is flooding, and someone is poisoning people before pushing them into the river. Archie and reporter Susan Ward are once again in danger as they track down this murderer and his odd weapon.

I must say, I was surprised by the serial killer's choice of weapon, but reading on, it started to make more sense. I was disappointed that Cain did not explore the Vanport story line further, choosing to neatly tie it all up in few paragraphs at the end. It seemed too easy, and I for one, would have liked for that story line to have been included more in the entire plot. It was interesting, and since it was, indeed, crucial to the actual killer, it should have been explored further. Instead, it was simply a side note, a story only Susan was interested in.

That being said, I completely enjoyed this novel. The development of the characters since book one is remarkably real; Archie still craves Vicodin, Susan has a hard time standing up to her boss. The action in this novel is not as gorey as the previous three, but still thrilling, and closer to home. I love seeing places I know in Cain's novels; I'm a Portland girl, too. I'm looking forward to the next Chelsea Cain novel; you should, too!



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Read This Book!

I've spent the last two weeks obsessed with Jennette Fulda. I began by reading an excerpt of her newest book, Chocolate and Vicodin:My Quest For Relief from the Headache that Wouldn't Go Away, and then searched out her first book, Half-Assed: A Weight-Loss Memoir at the library. This led me to the blog she's known for, http://pastaqueen.com/blog/. It's been difficult to tear myself away. 

Jennette, at her heaviest, weighed nearly 400 pounds, and by changing her eating habits & exercise, she lost half her body weight! I loved reading her stories of this change, partially because she's honest, and not one bit self-righteous, but mostly because she's just plain funny. I laughed out loud (lol) when she says "I felt confident enough to sign up for a 5K race. The former fat-girl bylaws dictate that you must run a 5K or you will be forced to gain back all the weight." Seems that every formerly fat-girl I know is now running 5k's and I think perhaps that's why I'm still fat. I don't want to run.

Jennette's second book, Chocolate and Vicodin is in stores now. It's the story of the headache that wouldn't go away. In February 2008, she got a headache, and has been searching for a cure ever since. Chronic pain is nothing to laugh at, yet she manages to make it funny; the woman has a gift.

Now, I haven't had a chance to read the book yet; it was just released last month, and I am too broke to purchase it. (It is on hold at the library, and my birthday is coming up, so..) I have read a couple of excerpts and the blog, and I must say, I am feeling very in sync with Jennette.

In the search of a cure for never-ending headache pain, she's given a number of medications, and I have personal knowledge of several of these. The section of her blog that put my feelings into words is quoted below.

"To complicate things further, although the Topamax was making it easier to eat less, it was also making me stupid. It’s nicknamed “Stupamax” and “Dopamax.” It made it harder to speak right, like someone had placed the English language on the top shelf where it was just out of my reach. I could still see it, but I had to stand on my tippy toes to grab words, and even then I was just knocking them over instead of grabbing them firmly. I just felt…dumb. I found myself unable to focus as well. It put a damper on my mood. The crazy switch was turned off, but the stupid switch was turned on."

- http://pastaqueen.com/blog/2008/07/why-diet-pills-are-not-the-answer-unless-they-cure-your-headache/ July11, 2008

I took Topamax for nearly 4 years, as an anti-seizure medication, and hoo-boy, do I remember that feeling. When I couldn't find the words I wanted I used to say my brain was skipping, like a scratched record. My neurologist would test me to see how my verbal skills were, and eventually, as they deteriorated, and the Topamax wasn't controlling the seizures, we switched meds. Right now I'm on a very low dose of it again, to help with chronic headaches (ugh), and I'm skipping every so often. But it is helping me lose weight.

Jennette Fulda writes in a real & humorous manner about things that are happening in her life. It's feels like talking to a friend. I think this is why I've been unable to tear myself away from her blog archives for the last two weeks--I was getting to know my new friend! She's smart, snarky, strong and talented. Read her books! I promise you won't be disappointed.

The Honking:A Poem

I haven't written a new poem in quite a while, but this one (about the dog, of all things!) came to me almost whole a bit ago. Here it is!

The Honking

Awakened on this chilly morning by the sound of geese

returning from their winter homes.

I am nestled in my bed,

a cat at my feet,

another at my head.

And the dog, sleeping soundly on the floor beside the bed,

responds to the honking with lifted ears and thumping tail.

Although she's a retriever, she's never seen a bird in the wild.

A toy mallard, torn apart & well-loved,

and a bright green rubber football bearing the logo of the Oregon Ducks

are the closest she's come.

Perhaps one day soon I'll take her to the duck park

let her run wild among the gathered fowl,

to hear the righteous indignation of their honks as they scatter before her.