Top Ten Best and Worst Moments of 2011, KHS style

As Dave Letterman is one of my all-time fave humans and I especially love his Top Tens, I give you my 2011 Top Ten Worst/Best.  If only I had Snoop Dogg to read mine...

Worst

10.  Wearing a pH probe in my nose to work.  Bad idea.
9.     Renewing a lost relationship with my nephew because of a devastating injury
8.     Going to a small town in SC that I now believe is the gateway to Hell
7.     Loss of a long time, very close friendship
6.     Realizing my body is a black hole of misery
5.     37-day long migraine
4.     LP (spinal tap) gone wrong
3.     Seeing my aunt lose herself to the beast that is Alzheimer's
2.     Two miscarriages
1.     The realization that mothering Olivia may have been my only chance

Best

10.  Finding a great pulmonologist who knows her shit and has kept me out of the ED for 5 months

9.    Wearing my Birthday Bitch hat once more

8.    Cinnamon whiskey....DELISH
7.    My bachelorette party, complete with penis shaped cupcakes
6.    Starting to blog again
5.    The Bloggess giving me online kinship and a big metal chicken obsession
4.    Forging new friendships from the most unlikely of circumstances
3.    Pulling off the planning of a beautiful wedding in 4 weeks from an ICU room
2.   Being asked to present at an international conference next June (YES!!!!)
1.   Marrying this amazingly talented, loving man

Bring on 2012....I don't want more than 5 on your Worst list....My Yang sooo better outweigh your Yin!

The Distractions in My Head Are Mine, All MINE

Mr. Officer,
I understand you think it's unsafe for me to be driving with a cellphone in my hand ... or on bluetooth ... or texting.   I read today you now think I am not capable of eating french fries or applying lip gloss while steering an automobile that claims it can park itself. 


Mr. Officer,
What makes you think any of these are any more distracting than the argument with my sister or discussion about infertility with my husband that could be happening in said car?  Even more distracting are the thoughts in my head about the argument that's probably brewing with my sister and especially the stressful, heartbreaking conversation my husband and I had last night regarding our future as parents.

Tell me, Ponch, are you going to try to fine me for being distracted by my own thoughts?  They are a hell of a lot more distracting to me than a damn hotdog or some moisturizing color for these luscious lips.

Sincerely,

Karen H. Sanders


I am now appalled at the state of this Union.  We are broke and unemployed.  We are increasingly uncultured thanks to cuts in arts and music education.  Our citizens who need the most get the least thanks to the cuts in mental health services.  Yet, there are officials who think it necessary to keep tabs on me in my car.  I wish they'd ask instead how I've managed to drive for nearly 18 years without a ticket or at-fault accident.

I suppose I should just be glad I won't be driving in California this weekend.

Thank God That's Over

Christmas present is thankfully Christmas past now.  There were definitely good moments, don't get me wrong.  I love being a Sanders.  Kelly's family has welcomed me with arms wider and warmer than I could have ever asked.  We started a new tradition with my cousin Shannon and my sister (husbands as well) today.

Christmas Day continues to hold a chunk of pain.  It isn't a joke when I say I need a tropical island escape.  Beaches are always where my mind goes when I think of peace.  Right after Olivia died, a friend and I took a trip to the Keys.  I thought of that multiple times yesterday.  I would love to have had my toes in that beautiful sand where thoughts could drift along soft breezes to the sound of  lightly crashing waves.

 That first shot was from the beach the day after a storm.  Appropriate, huh?  The bottom is from the back door of the house where we stayed.  So serene...That's how I want to feel when I actually feel so messy and turbulent on the inside.

As we move into the most turbulent time of year for me,  we'll see how many days of serenity happen.  I will not expect the worst.  I just accept that it is always possible.  I don't kid myself.  That is setting myself up for the worst to happen and then some.

Now, I need someone to take away all of the effing Christmas candy that is so damn tasty.  It is not a food group; it is not an acceptable diet plan; it is not a method of controlling my asthma!

It's Christmas Eve!

Fire, hot chocolate, pjs, Christmas lights, and Ralphie...my long Christmas weekend has begun.

This is the light ball that was given to me by Posse member M.E.  Olivia loved them.  I want 8.

Snapshot of my tree because I can't figure out how to get a good photo of the damn thing.  It has blue lights and is quite pretty.  See the photo ornament of Olivia?  See the red drum above it?  My two loves prominently honored.

May this Christmas be better than all others before and less wonderful than those to come for ALL of us.

p.s.  A shout out to my international friends, Russia and Germany particularly.  S Roždestvóm and Frohe Weihnachten!  Forgive me if I've found incorrect spellings. 

An Old 45

Do you ever feel like an old 45 on a turntable?  Women, I am almost certain your male partners have told you that you sound like one.  What I learned in college in my psych and sociology classes is that we repeat ourselves because we don't feel like we've been heard.  Someone may be able to verbally vomit every single word we said, but that doesn't mean they heard our meaning or that it mattered to them.  I know I was in college back in the stone age, but that seems like a legitimate theory.

I see it in the hospital with my families as well.  I can say that I lived that with Olivia, too.   In times like these, it can be life or death situations.  For the rest of real life, it can just be hair-pulling frustration, damaged relationships, diarrhea or hives.  Stress rears its ugly head in many physical forms ya know.

Maybe I should become a mime.  Then, I could act out my thoughts and never get in trouble when my filter doesn't work.  It could pose a problem if I get arthritic or break a bone.  I have really sensitive skin, too.  All that make-up might not be good for my face.  I might have to re-evaluate this plan.

Can someone please speed up the Earth's rotation?

I was all excited about decorating, but I am not in the mood for Christmas.  I like the decorations.  I always do.  I love the music.  I hadn't bought a single gift, other than the work party ones, until yesterday.

Last year, there was snow.  Last year, I didn't know it yet, but I was pregnant.  Other than marrying Kelly, this year has been a virtual shit storm. 

Pregnancy failed me, twice.  I had a 37-day long migraine.  It took me to pains that superseded natural childbirth.  At least that only lasted 10 hours.   The migraine led to testing that was almost as awful.  My asthma, which is usually my health nightmare, was kind of under control.  In extra testing for that, it was randomly found that I have severe acid reflux and I need surgery to correct it.  At this point, I wondered if it could get any worse.  It did.

This has been the worst year of my personal health of all of them.  In just a month, that will be 38 of them.  Somehow over the past year, Mother Nature put me on the Intimidator of biological clocks.  I don't know what the next few months are going to hold.  I fear it will be pain and heartbreak.

These next two weeks can't pass fast enough for me.  Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Jingle all the way to yas.

Like Madonna Only Better

Reposting due to owner error...

Let's play "What's in Karen's Bra?"
I'm not sure it's a good thing to be known for the storage content potential of your lingerie.  Nevertheless, I am.  I was busted (no pun intended) in a meeting once when trying to discretely claim my Blistex after lunch.  Ever since then, it's even been known to be called 'pulling a Karen'. 
I only use the Victoria's Secret to keep my secrets when I don't have pockets.  Typically, it's really only my phone.  Today, I'm double barreled.  If I was pointy and sparkly, you could call me Madonna or a Fembot.
I would like to wear dresses and skirts to work more often, but it's  hard to shove a pager, phone, pen, Blistex, money/card, and business cards in one non-Parton bra.  Besides, who wants a business card from in there?
Luckily, I am now in possession of a QoFE card holder.  Skirt life just got a little easier.

FAIL

So, I'm learning to navigate this Droid version.  I just deleted my awesome bra post.  SoMFB.  Maybe, just maybe, I am not the Queen of F-ing Everything.  Except that I am, because I got it back....cha-ching.

Misfires

Beebs wonders how the synapses in my brain fire.  I fully understand it's a lazy susan in there.  Spin it around and you never know where it's going to stop.  Side bar....I love it when the Panthers play on Fox and I get to see Transformer guy during commercials....

There's some quote by Einstein about the true definition of insanity.  It goes something like the true definition is repeating the same action and expecting a different result.  Why do we do that?  We ALL do it.  I bet if you replay your average day, you'll find you do it multiple times in various aspects of your life.  I know I do when I look closely.

My blog is aptly titled because thoughts in my head just come straight out of my mouth.  Sometimes, that really gets me in trouble.  Sometimes, it's a good thing.  People are usually pretty sure where they stand with me.  If not, it's because one of those synapses misfired and they got confused.

I'm wondering how to break the cycle, at least in the two most important situations in my life.  It takes a really concentrated effort to change the entire way we think, act, respond....to any situation.  What if we need to change it in multiple ways?  I can't change the random, unexplained noise I make that is NOT Tourette's.  Don't even go there. 

Failed Send

I figured out this week why sometimes it seems like my life is exceptionally shitty.  Why, it seems, that even when I pray, those words just float off into the galaxy or a black hole.  They are going out as text messages and the reception is quite poor.

My friend, Christi, lives in Texas.  I sent her a text around 1:30am the other day.  I figure that's ok since she's a couple or so hours behind me.  In my sleepy state, I must have typed or started typing twice.  When I woke up the next morning, I had a failed send to Christ.  Aha!  there it is!  He is not getting my messages!

That is a much better answer than just being ignored, don't you think?  I'm going to continue to believe this because it's funny and I can live with it.  When a lot of the people you love and care about are struggling with similar or even very different things, it's hard to feel ok leaning on them or dumping on them.  But, we can all crack jokes about sending a text message to God and it not going through.  We can also joke about my Jewish Christmas tree, but that's a whole other story.  Mazal Tov!

Anybody Seen My Eyelids?

The crying jag is over.  It may possibly coincide with sleep.  Today was a good day.  Tell me how I work in a retail mall store, but I was let go early because we were so slow, this, a Saturday in December?  The only large group there came from a Hallelujah flash mob in Belk across the way.  Then there was a moment when I had a realization.  It was one of those moments where 'eye-opening' is not descriptive enough.  I think my eyelids were metaphorically ripped away.  I couldn't even talk about it.  I went off to myself and stared.  I tried to think of soothing things, mantras, anything that would calm me and prevent more crying.  I am a very spiritual and faithful person, but I am not really religious.  I pray a lot to myself.  I didn't even know what to pray.  It's been a long time since I had felt anything like this.  Usually, I can find something snide, sarcastic, anything to fill the space in my head.  Today, all that came was the Lord's Prayer.  So, I said it over and over and over.  Finally, I was calm enough to leave my personal seclusion.  I'm not sure the rest of the evening will go as I planned.  I won't cry, but I'm exhausted now.  I think I'll rest by the fire and Friends.

An Open Letter to Bereaved Parents (and Those Who Love Us)

What happens when you meet someone for the first time?  Whether it's a party, new job, or first date, the format is kind of the same.  "Hi, I'm Karen.  Hello, I'm Heather.  What do you do?  Are you married?  Do you have kids?" and so on.

For a bereaved parent, this is a kick in the teeth and a dreaded moment.  As time passes, we can sort of prepare ourselves and the sting is less severe.   When you think about those tiny, seemingly inconsequential instances being such a big deal to us, just imagine something like our child's birthday that we don't get to celebrate or a Christmas that passes for which there's no need to buy presents.

Then, there are all of the moments in between.  Being a bereaved parent changes a person.  I've said this over and over.  Those new members of my club are like bobble heads soaking it in and learning to live it.  My friend Steph and I talk frequently about writing a How-To book for newbies or especially their loved ones.  No matter how we try, people don't seem to understand how to be with us after our child dies.

The biggest thing for me is that you need to realize every part of every day is influenced by the death of Olivia.  I have a new norm.  I have moved on.  But, she is with me.  She will always be with me.  Ignoring that will only cause me pain.  If I am having a particularly bad day, and those are far less numerous than they were three years ago, then allow it.  Love me through it.  (Jill, I love that phrase and I love that you want to do it.)

This Christmas will be the fourth without the love of my life.  This year has been particularly harsh for so many reasons.  It is making the loss of my girl magnified right now.  Today has been one of the worst grief days this year.  I have cried for hours when I wasn't at work.  I talked with someone who has seen me through some of the worst of it.  I talked with someone who is new at it.  Both offered support from different perspectives.  The common thing is that they listened.  They asked what I needed from them.

The problem with telephones is there aren't hugs.  I need someone out there who is technologically minded to create a telephone with arms.  They don't have to be the arms of the person on the other end.  They just need to be arms that can hug when needed.  It could be an added feature like a data package.  Hugs 5/mo  $5.95  unlimited  $19.95.

I wish no one knew the devastating pain of the death of their child.  It never goes away.  It leaves scars on your soul that never go away.  I am a stronger, wiser, blah blah blah.  I am who I am.  I don't know who that is some days.  I am Kelly's wife and I'm trying to be a good one. I am a friend and I try to be a good one.  I am a sister, an aunt, a niece, a cousin... I am an employee to several and I try to be a good one.

I am Olivia's mother.  Being that without her to hold is the problem.

I Only Need One Deadly Sin

Freely admitted glutton here.  Thanksgiving didn't go exactly according to plan, but I should have expected that, since none of my plans ever go as planned.  I didn't get to sleep in (shocker).  I was able to go visit Olivia's grave and get her mini Christmas tree in place.  If her stuff is done, it really doesn't matter if I ever get mine finished.

Although, I really want to decorate a tree.  For most of my adult life, I put up my Christmas tree Thanksgiving night or the day after.  Things were a little schedule-challenged the past few years.  I work at the hospital this weekend, so even that is totally out of the picture.   I am not lazy!  I went and dug through the storage building this morning.  I found two boxes of the decorations.  Alas, I worked at the mall on this dreaded black Friday, so I'm stuck for now.

As for the food, it was delish.  I went crazy over the yeast rolls.  I could have eaten a whole pan.  There was a super yummy chocolate pie and fab pumpkin pie, too.  I've never been the Thanksgiving nap person.  But, yesterday, I crawled up on my Mother-in-law's bed wrapped in a blankie and sacked out!  I didn't even watch football!

My resolve had been to enjoy the day and not focus on the hurt.  The hurt is always there.  I wish people got that, REALLY got that.  I cried a lot yesterday.  I cried a lot last night.  I've cried a lot today.  Sometimes, the old wounds weep, regardless of our resolve to keep them shut.  At best, those around us have emotional salve and bandages ready.  At worst, they say they weren't a part of that time or something insensitive like that (come on Joanie, Joey, Steph....you know what I mean) and expect you to 'get over it'.

I think this is why gluttony would be the 1 of the 7 deadly sins I associate myself with.  I gravitate toward it easily.  Food can't hurt me.  Food can't talk back.  Yay pie!

p.s.  Let's  not forget the best ending of this afternoon....M to tha D-E-A.  Halllelueria!

The First Thanksgiving (in nearly 4 years)

I'm a day early, but that's because I plan on sleeping in tomorrow.  Even if I have to drug myself into oblivion to do it, I will.

For those who have known me for many years, you should remember that Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday.  In 1998, I lost my very first pregnancy on Thanksgiving Day.  Over the years since, they've been up and down.  In 2000, it was bittersweet.  I had Olivia, but she had been diagnosed and we were reeling from that.  In 2007, it was the week before we signed the DNR.  In 2008, it was my first without her, I was freshly divorced and there wasn't a GDMF thing I was thankful for.

Last year, I was with Kelly's family and then my sister, my (then fake) sister-in-law and Kelly came to my house to decorate the Christmas tree.  We had a goofy, great time.  I miss Olivia every day of every year, but holidays are always worse. 

This year, it is more sweet than bitter.  I am married to the love of my romantic life.  I am exhausted today because I can't sleep without him and our schedules were mismatched last night.  I have married into a wonderful, amazing family.  With both of my parents deceased, I have acquired parents who love me and treat me as their own.  I have acquired a sister who has been a friend since before I could legally drive.  I have acquired a brother who isn't sure what to think about me except he's glad I like football.  I have acquired cousins and aunts that are fantastic.

The bitter continues to be in the form of motherhood, or lack thereof.  I miss Olivia as if the very muscle fibers of my heart were ripped and taken.  We would love to have a child of our own, but the universe and mother nature aren't sure that's in the great plan.

So, for the first time in many years, I am going to concentrate on the Happy of Thanksgiving.  I am thankful for my family, all of them, new and old.  I am especially thankful for my husband and his faith and belief in me.  I am thankful for my work at Brenner Children's Hospital.  It fulfills me and gives me purpose.  I am thankful for the superior, supportive co-workers and manager I have.  I am thankful for a wonderful family that lets me share their special daughter two days a week.  I am thankful that I have been able to maintain my faith in God no matter how shaky it gets at times.  And, for the bright spots of my days that get me through each one of them, I am thankful for my amazing, loyal, loving, fabulous friends.

May all of you find your Happy and for at least one day, see it above all the rest.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Ta da!

I don't care about the nuances.  I don't care about the idiosyncrasies.  I don't care about the flat out disagreements.  I love being married to Kelly.  I love looking at the pictures of that magical day.  I love knowing I come home to him from my 12 jobs.  I love turning over in my sleepless nights and finding his strong shoulders to squeeze.  This, my friends, is the good life.

Cover Ups

You know how you can fight with your best friend or your sibling or even your significant other over the tiniest of things?  It could be a snide remark or WWIII and it all stems from a much deeper, bigger issue that no one will actually talk about. 

How do you get to that issue and have an open, meaningful conversation that actually ends with resolution of some sort?  I'm seeing this all around me lately.  I seem to handle situations like this differently depending on who the person is.  

I am a tad stubborn.  Without even realizing it, I want to stand my ground and dig my heels in.  I think all of us have that instinct.  We don't want to feel like a doormat to be walked on.  Our issues, the big ones or the small ones, are important to us.  I've heard for years "pick your battles".  That's easier applied to your toddler, I think, than your best friend who was 30 minutes late for girls' night, but you're actually ticked off about something that happened weeks ago.  You can all get ticked off at me for that incredibly long run-on sentence.

I'm learning a lot from a newer, incredibly close friend.  Jill is teaching me a lot about patience and loving someone through the hard times.  She's doing a great job loving me through some roughness.  I'm facing a harsh, personal reality that I can't escape in any part of my life or mind.  In turn, I'm harsh with everyone I love without even realizing it sometimes or, I just withdraw.  I am thankful for Jill who is pushing her way through.  I think I'd be surviving on Xanax alone without the Jagger moves.

p.s.  make no assumptions

'Sup Foo?

I am giddy.  It's been 16 days since the wedding and I am still on cloud nine.  I still become engrossed in pictures daily.  I still talk about it as often as my friends will let me.  Don't get me wrong, Kelly and I aren't perfect.  It's not all aprons, Betty Crocker, and fireworks every day.  After all, we came back from the honeymoon and into reality, which sucks.  BUT, I love him more than ever.  He called me at work Saturday night and I nearly popped a blood vessel smiling when my manager said "it's your husband".  THIS is how it's supposed to feel. 

There are always other mini crises in my life, sometimes growing into full-blown crises at the drop of a hat.  There are a couple of long-term problems we have nipping at our heels (and hearts).  There are some acute crises, i.e. the heat going out when we had a cold snap for three days; my back going out last night and I don't mean on a date.  Indeed, I am sitting here with an ice pack on it, loaded on some pain meds typing.  Seemingly, I am much more functional this way than on muscle relaxers as my texts last night are laughable.  EX:  I forgot.  I'm medixatedp...I took 100 onstead pf 50 mg...I dudn't finish my papetwork...I am hungry but Kelly woyld haveto bring me somethong and it.s bsd enougj he had to help me pee...I am hettimg rice krispies ams matsjmallowd...

I think the muscle relaxers will come on  board prior to entering the car.  They will take effect shortly after entering the house and I can collapse appropriately.

I did!

Whew!  Talk about a wild ride.  The whirlwind planning and last minute dash panned out and pulled together a beautiful, perfect wedding.  I know it was mine, but I heard that from several people.  The torrential, frigid rain of the day before cleared out to show off the magnificent view just hours before we began.

I am overcome at the thoughts of the special faces I saw in the small crowd.  People who struggled to make it there, but did.  People who took time away from critically ill family members, but did.  People who drove miles and miles, a couple or 6 hours, but they did.

It was exceptional.  For the first time in my life, I felt truly beautiful.  The people I love most in the world were there.  The ring I wear was given as a total surprise the night before and is more precious than one can imagine.  

There were also funny moments.  What else would someone expect from me??  Our fab minister quoted the "great theologian Steven Tyler"...complete awesomeness.  The wind was too brisk for the unity candle to light, so I just announced it was a symbolic unity candle.  There's a random guy scratching his ass in one of the snapshots.

We could not have asked for anything more perfect.  It's not the size of the wedding that matters.  It's the love and people who are in it.

And we WILL live happily ever after....even if there are ups, downs, and sad spots!

Words of a different kind

It's 15 minutes from being 9 days until the wedding.  You'd think I'm counting down or something.  Yes, I'm divorced.  Yes, I've had a wedding.  No, it has not ever been anything like this.

I swore to myself and everyone around me, including Kelly, that I would never get married again.  It was the seventh level of Hell as far as I was concerned.  I think my feelings on the subject interfered with our relationship for a while.  In hindsight, I can see that it kept me from letting myself feel fully what was there.  I think it probably made him wonder if there was any use in pursuing a relationship at times.  If I was so adamantly opposed to marriage, was I also opposed to all commitment?

This whole process has been overwhelming, anxiety-ridden, stress-provoking, and enlightening.  Each of us involved has had at least one moment of OMGWTF?!   Kelly and I both have been amazed at how our friends have stepped up in ways we never expected.  We have needed them to step up with our crazy idea to plan this thing in five weeks.  It's going to come together regardless.

I had a fabulous bachelorette party Saturday.  It was small and that is the best kind.  We could hear each other, mostly, not get lost at the bar, mostly and taste test each others' martinis, mostly.   One of my best friends, Steph, has done an outstanding job making sure not only that things are together for this shindig, but also that I am treated like a princess.  You are the epitome of awesomeness!

Now, I have to figure out vows.  I have not ever written them before and since I tend to write in the vein of smartassedness, I'm a little worried .  Standard definitely does not fit us.  We are unique beyond measure.  Besides that, this is a different kind of do-over.  I can't explain it.  All I know is that it IS.   After all, I love him more than cake.

Ticks and Twitches

I do not have Tourettes!  It's just a sound I make, damn it!  However, I am beginning to truly believe it is stress related.  I am getting way overwhelmed with wedding stuff.  I think I have developed a twitch on my left side.  My already poor sleep habits are even more atrocious.  My fuse is frighteningly short and very sparky. 

I'm not a Bridezilla by any means.  I have great friends who are helping me out.  Kelly's parents have been fantastic.  There are some things that aren't going exactly as I'd like and I'm stressing over them.  There are some things that can't be taken care of until the last minute and I'm stressing over them.  There are some things that just aren't going to happen or happen like I want and I'm stressing over them.  There are outside stressors that have shown themselves which are out of my control and tearing me down.  I'm trying to just breathe and let it go, but somfb that is hard.

I'm working as usual.  I'm tyring to spend as much time with Justin, who is doing great, as I can.  I'm just very overwhelmed and that's the only word I can think of that's even close to appropriate. 

Last night, a very angry parent came at me verbally and I'd never even seen him before.  I can handle most anything, but I'm not in the best place right now.  I handled it fine, but I seriously wanted to punch him in the face.  I thought, perhaps, I should go back to my words and get a little bit out before I was reduced to physical violence.

Carry on.

Overload, Sensory and Other Sorts

I am the Queen of Multitasking.  I've been called that by people who have known me for years.  It irritates some who think that having a conversation while watching TV,  while texting, while Facebooking is not at all possible and cheats them in the conversation department.

Over the past month, I have been in multitasking hell, even though I haven't really wanted it.  I am exhausted on a daily basis.  Tonight, I was so tired, I actually asked Kelly to drive.  I never ask anyone to drive.  I am NOT a good passenger.

My nephew had his surgery yesterday.   He looks fantastic.  I hope he's on a better road in his recovery.  I still want to spend as much time with him as possible.  I'm back working as much as possible since I'm not spending any time in SC.  I'm in overdrive making wedding plans.  It's now just 26 days away.

I had a scary thought tonight.  Our wedding is going to be simple, informal, and intimate.  Our combined guest list was about 60 people.  If you think half or less actually show, then it's down right tiny.  My thought tonight is "What if nobody comes?"  I don't know why I thought that.  Please, God, don't let it be a premonition.  

I'll bring Bodequa with me.   She is fabulous enough to make up for an empty lawn on her own.  All better now.

Lazy River Wanted

I've been all about wanting, looking for balance the past little while.  I don't think it's in my foreseeable future, at least not in the way I imagine it.  I'd really like a smooth lazy river though, instead of the white water rafting.

I had some hope of getting my nephew here at my hospital so that I can continue to spend my days off with him and he won't be alone as much with other family so close.  Also, I think we'd offer him superior treatment.  That's neither here nor there at this point.  We've received another of those calls.  You know, the kind that assures you  they know what they're talking about because they put a timeline with it.  Yes, Justin has had a major downward turn this afternoon.  I believe this one is much more significant than the others.  My prayers and wishes are that he makes it through tonight and can be transferred here to Baptist  tomorrow. 

On the other hand, I am trying to plan this wedding that's coming up in just weeks.  I asked Kelly yesterday morning if we could have an Angry Birds theme.  Alas, he denied me...even the cake.  I would have made a beautiful blue bird.  Even though a few people have expressed that we are insane for doing this so quickly, for me, it is a light at the end of a dark tunnel.  It's something really happy in a very bad time.  It's something to look forward to in a year filled with sadness. 

I am looking at invitations and possibly dresses tomorrow, depending on how Justin does.  The two intertwine somehow.  Not that this is going to be formal, but I doubt Vera Wang does a Red Bird....

Mental Health Cleanliness

When you're looking for a free place to sleep and bathe in a hospital, you're kind of thankful for what you get.  I think that in my head when I offer minimal accommodations to families at my work all the time.  I've tried to tuck that in the back of my head this week.

Yesterday, I took a cold sink bath because the shower wasn't available.  At least this room has its own toilet.  Anywho, there was no hot water, so I chose a ponytail over trying to wash my hair in a tiny sink with really cold water.  This morning, I waited for almost an hour for this shower I was told to use.  Finally, I stopped a man and asked about it.  Turns out, that one is out of order.

He walked around looking for a housekeeping or maintenance supervisor to get me a shower, damn it!  I ended up in the old psych unit.  OMG.  The water only stayed on for about 30 seconds at a time.  I guess that was a safety mechanism so a patient can't drown themselves.  After about 3 rounds of that, during which each time it was cold as it came back on, I looked for a better way.   I finally figured out to hold the button in instead of letting it run out and turning it back on.  The shower head wasn't adjustable and it hit me full on in the face.  I could have easily drowned myself if I'd so chosen.  The problem was, I had one hand to soap/wash with and I was blinded by water.  I was so happy to have clean hair, I tried really hard to only think thankful thoughts. 

When I got to Justin's room, the one nurse asked if I found the shower.  The other said, "Look at her fluffy hair!  You know she did!"  I guess that means I should have used the cold water sink anyway yesterday.

Caught in an Evil Vortex

**Not for sensitive ears or eyes**

You know how my last blog post was about happy endings?  Well, fuck that! 


Justin and I haven't been close for several years.  We reconnected earlier this year when his son was born.  I thought he'd gotten his life back on track.  He looked good.  He seemed good.

This experience with him has been hell.  I am now the person I coach at work.  I am the person I tell, "It's ok to cry, but try to hold yourself together in front of your baby/son/daughter."  I had done ok the past few weeks.  The first days were awful.  I collapsed onto him, basically, when I saw him the first time.  Otherwise, I have held it together and cried outside.  I have utilized the good drugs Mother Nature and science gave us by prescription to get me through the toughest moments.


SO...I stand for 14 hours or so a day (because the ICU staff are glad to have someone with him) and do every little thing I can for him.  It might be scratching an eyelid or a nose.  It might be adjusting his bed 20 times because nothing is comfortable in that halo and every place he can feel is uncomfortable.  I stand because he can't move his head and he wants to be able to see me.  That means either directly beside his head, leaning over or at the foot of the bed.  I am one of those people I say needs a break.

I guess when you wake up multiple times a day, and it's like a lightning strike every time that is more the life changing event than the actual event.  All of this has made Justin have several epiphanies.  The gut wrenching conversations we're having are Oscar award winning material.  Today, though, it was a 4-word sentence that did me in.  He's used humor.  He's been angry.  He's been weepy.  Today when he'd asked me to scratch his eye again, he just looked away from me and said "I hate being paralyzed."

His lungs looked better for a while today, then he had a very rough afternoon.  He scared me to the point of hiding in a corner and I don't hide in corners.  I feel so alone.  I need a Navigator!

I was actually told to leave the cafeteria tonight by a rude volunteer who pushed me out of line because they were apparently having a  special dinner tonight, but this was before the cafeteria was closed.  I'm so delirious with exhaustion and sadness, I didn't even call a bitch out!

I'm just sad.  I was so damned happy and I bragged about it.  I shouldn't have ever done that.  Two days later, we got calls that Justin was sicker and it was grim looking.  We get it worked out for me to rush down here and it's been pure misery to live and watch.  There is so little I can do for him and yet, today, he told me thank you.  He said he never expected that I would be the one by his side, rubbing his head, scratching his nose and keeping his nurses in line.  My response?  It doesn't matter what people do that we love.  The person we love is always inside.

So I'll do my very best to keep coming as often as I can to this hell hole of a town.  I'll stand in his room 12-15 hours a day.  I'll love his wonderful nurses (like the one who came to hug me today just because I looked like I needed it) and call out the ones who are shitty (like the one who thought it was ok to make Justin wait nearly 15 mins for something that took less than 3 when that's all he wanted in exchange for going back on the vent early).   I will fight the urge to scream until I get in my car going down the interstate.  I will fight the urge to cry my eyes out until I'm at least in the parking lot.   And now, I will try to sleep on this lovely futon that's at least free and just down the hall from him.

You Like Happy Ending?

If you've read my bio, you know I've had bad luck in the way of love.  There are always two sides to every story, at least in most cases.  But, honestly, both of mine were directly related to the mens' lack of will and character needed to raise a child with special needs.  Not even her father could do it after the second year.

Kelly and I met when he was 12 and I was 15.  I'm working on 38 now so it's been a while.  We realized who each other was again when his sister found me on MySpace (tumbleweeds blowing by) during my daughter's last months.  She brought me up to speed on his life.  I don't know what he was hearing or thinking.  I kept up with him, but when your only child is dying is not the time to stalk someone into a relationship.  It took a couple of years.  We'd been chatting online, but Mr. Shyness held off.  I was chomping at the bit!  When we saw each other for the the first time, it was kind of sparky.  BUT, it was still four months before he asked me out.  Since then, we've been on the fast track.  It's kind of like Thunder Road.  It's not the tallest, fastest roller coaster at Carowinds anymore, and it's a little jerky and rough in places, but it still gives you major thrills.  We are incredibly passionate about each other and both brick-wall stubborn.

Maybe this time, it's like a special massage parlor...maybe this time I get my happy ending. I would definitely like one, but I'm not going to count on it until someone says it's legal.

I Want a National Holiday!

Last year, I made up Squirrel Awareness Month.  Those little speed bumps of nature deserved some moments of respect, I thought.  Today, I'm Googling holidays and Holy Holidays Batman!  I think there actually could have already been a Squirrel Awareness Month!  

For example, tomorrow is Defy Superstition Day.  But wait, in true infomercial form, that's not all!  Tomorrow is also Fortune Cookie Day, National Peanut Day, Positive Thinking Day , etc.  Who determines this?  How does one apply for and receive status as a National Holiday?  Did Mr. Peanut himself petition the Calendar Gods for a mark on their precious pages?  I am not finding much in the way of info on that process when I web search.  

I want my own holiday.  It should be a banking holiday.  You know, one of those where banks are closed, mail doesn't run and you get paid to be off work.  Karen's Day should be a National Holiday.  What would it honor, you ask?  I work all the damn time.  I need a National Holiday to get a break.  What else...honoring the women of America who love football;  honoring the women of America who are highly intelligent and amazingly functional on less than 3 hours of sleep per night.  I can think up lots of other reasons to have another bold lettered declaration on January.  

All my highly ranked, Federal official or Fed employee friends....find out how I get my own holiday!  Squirrel Awareness Month starts in 18 days.  After that, the flicker of my calendar flame is doused. 

Me, Myself and I

I don’t get a lot of alone time.  I do in the car I suppose, but that’s not exactly the relaxation time I need.  I sort of nodded off at a stop light today and that is a bad idea.  Kelly and I have completely different schedules, but somehow, I still don’t get a lot of time at home alone.  It’s not that I need hours a week or anything, but when I get a little bit, it is such a treat.  Today, I’ve had a few hours.  My day actually started out with an upset stomach, so it’s not like I felt like doing a lot anyway.  I went to work a short while, and then was sent home because of the whole gagging in the bathroom thing.  I digress.   I’ve been home for about 4 hours solo.  Wow!  I have been on the loveseat with my pillow, blanket, phone, laptop and remotes.  I watched college football (GO HEELS!), napped, watched Friends, napped, Facebooked, finally braved food, and now I’m watching Pirates of the Caribbean.  Kelly is playing somewhere near Raleigh tonight, so it will be way late when he gets home.   Wonder how much Bravo, A&E, and TLC I can watch before he gets home???  Too bad it's not an NFL night....

Save Water, Bathe With Someone You?

Love.  My fake mother-in-law actually has this saying on her bathroom wall.  I've heard it mostly all my life.  It's pretty fun, generally speaking.  But, OMG, this weather guy in Arkansas went way overboard.  Ok, that was a bad choice of words.  Technically, it wasn't a bathtub, but it's a tub.  This is creepiest tub coupling ever.

Why have I never engaged in illegal drug parties?  First, I never had a good source or a lot of cash flow.  Second, I do not want to be either of the fools in this story!  How would you like this cutout in your mom's scrapbook??

On to things that are much more in line with my usual activities.  I willfully got up at 5:30 to put lunch in a crock pot.  It's gonna be delish.  I'm very excited to see Laura.  There will be no tub involved.

Dates and I'm Not Talking Fruit

Happy Labor Day!  Whatever

Labor Day doesn't really mean anything.  I'm heading to work in a couple of hours.  We just went grocery shopping and it was an effing madhouse.  No one takes a break.  Besides that, it means something otherwise to me.

Tomorrow would have been my Due Date.  There's a big, ol' fat circle on the calendar, but no baby is coming.  If you've been around, you know I miscarried in late January.  It seems a really long time ago, but it kind of seems not so long ago some days.  As if the past week hasn't been traumatic enough, this has to fall in the same time frame.

The whole yin yang thing is bullshit.  There is no balance in my universe.  I seriously think I have some kind of weird barometer inside and I make my own atmosphere.  I have an innate black cloud.  Everything and everyone I touch turns to a steaming pile.

I'm not holding a pity party.  No sympathy seeking here.  I would, however, love it if something really awesome happened and didn't disappear almost instantaneously.  Maybe I should join the carnies at the fair next month.  I could just travel and eat elephant ears all year.  How could that end badly?

The Yang to My Yin

Why is Yin feminine?

My life is so out of balance.  This whole Chinese philosophy seems so peaceful.  So, today, when I got two, TWO, moments of positivity I thought, "WOW...I have some cosmic balance coming from somewhere today!"  For kicks, I Googled yin yang .

I know the whole philosophy is about everything being in balance and too much of anything being bad, yada, yada, yada.  Why is the negative called the feminine?  That just pisses this female off at the whole ancient Chinese culture.  If I didn't love your Crab Rangoon and delicious pork fried rice, I'd hate the modern culture, too, bitches.

Every Little Thing

Steph, you're gonna think you're my muse. 

I am the queen of 'glass half full' thinking.  It may take me a while to get there for some situations, but I get there.  I mean, seriously, if I can take the death of my only child and find any positive thing to come out of it, then I have to have flowers to pull out of my ass, right?

I have come very close to losing that part of me this year.  Nothing worse than losing Olivia will ever happen to me.  There is no hurt, event, occurence, NOTHING worse than the death of a child.  However, when you've been emotionally beaten; when you've experienced loss after loss; when you've seen others experience those same losses; when you've seen people you love hurt and have their hearts shredded; when you bounce back like a Weeble over and over and over..............

There is a breaking point.  I've had a few over the past 3 years, 6 months and 19 days.  I came very close to tipping over the edge.  I was lucky beyond belief to have my Posse to grab on and hold me tight.  For those who don't have a Posse, they tip. 

I feel like a yo-yo.  I get close to my breaking point, then I pull myself back.  I get close again, then I pull back because in the deepest part of me I keep thinking everything will be ok.  I have been telling someone that for days now as she faces losing her child.  No matter what, it will be ok until it's not and then it's over.  That is how I have survived.  That is my mantra.  Everything will be ok until it's not and then it will be over. 

There really is a time to say "this is NOT ok" and I am there.

The Reason Is...

There is a reason for everything.  Right?  Yeah, maybe.  There is even a reason someone came up with WTF.  I use it regularly because sometimes, asking "what?" is just not strong enough.  Thanks to my very good friend Stephanie, I can now ask "WTMFS?" for even more depraved instances.  Take last night for example.  I was put in an uncomfortable position.  Had it not been at work, I'd probably have used all the words in an ugly tone with my head all wobbly.  Luckily, I've been practicing using the little bit of self-control I have and marshaling it for professional purposes.  I also take my old Barbies out and role play with them.  Barbie gets tired of being pushed around by Ken, so she tries to use big girl words and not rely on her sex goddessness to get her way with him.  Skipper is tired of both of them and their drama, so she just busts on up in there and threatens to pop a cap in somebody if they don't shut it....I didn't say I've completely succeeded yet.

Anyway, I wonder why people think they are above doing something simple that takes a second to complete?  Why does someone think they are so superior that they can't take an extra moment for someone on a lower rung of the social totem pole?  Why do people assume they are on the top of that pole?  Who assigned the rungs on the mythical, invisible pole?  Questions I'll never have an answer or a reason for, surely, if sociologists and anthropologists haven't figured it out yet.

Carry on, Skipper.

I Approve This Post

Just when I think I'm skating on thick, smooth, safe ice...

I'm a bit of a dichotomy.  Some people see me as a fountain of optimism and sunshine.  Some people see the darker side of me.  That side expects the worst out of situations and people.  I'm not sure there is a conscious decision on how I approach a person or a situation.  I do know I have to force myself to think the opposite way sometimes.

For example, when things are going really well, such as on some thick ice, I catch myself afraid to say out loud how good they are.  It's as if I'll break that spell and the ice all at the same time.  Then, I chastise myself for even thinking it because if I've thought it, the universe knows it whether I've said it or not and it could all start spinning out of control into a cyclone of crap just because I had the thought.  And by the way, why doesn't that cyclone work the other way?  Why can't I think about how wonderful life is looking and how great it would be if I found an extra $100 lying around somewhere, and I got an unexpected promotion and that actually happened?

Yes, that's a little extreme.  Yes, it's how I think sometimes.  I used to work for a Domestic Violence agency.  During the day, we never put the crisis line on an answering service if we had to leave the office.  We had volunteers who would take the line forwarded to their homes.  We had this one woman, Ruth, who never said 'hello' when she answered her phone.  She always said 'Come on over!' or some other happy phrase.  My voice mail in October goes along the lines of "I'm not available to take your call.  Leave a number and I'll call you back.  I'm Karen Hawks and I approved this message."  I border on sarcasm, not sweet.  OK, I border it like water borders Australia.

I digress....

I'm trying to be more positive about people, specifically about grown ups.  I'm pretty positive about the small children and really positive about babies.  I can't promise I'll start answering my phone with sparkles in my voice.  If you need that, find Ruth and call her.

Stock Market, Shock Market

I am not a Dow fan.  Although, I was startled to hear about the Mt. Everest-sized tumble it took recently.  I, personally, think we should go back to the barter system.  None of the three jobs I have would help me with that.  I mean, I am great at supporting you if you have a child in critical condition or if you need help finding some linen trousers.  Neither of those skills is going to help me down at the market when it's time for trading.

I've decided I need to develop a consumable product.  I was actually purchasing toilet paper when I thought of this, but nevertheless, I'm thinking more along the lines of food products.  I'm not into the farming thing, so no piggies, cows, chicks, or other fowl for me.  I think I need to create a niche in baking.  Baked goods last longer, so if I can't get to said market for a day or so, it's not like a tequila marinated London broil.  That bad boy won't be a hot commodity on day 2.  I do have friends who are good at all sorts of things though and one of them is superior at tasty meat.

So, I propose we go back to the public market.  We all assemble and choose our food group.  Yes, we start with food.  Then, we'll work our way to household items.  We can set daily hours and that way there is a large variety of items available regularly.  It would go something like

Me:  I have two dozen Massive Minty Mocha Munchies ( the BEST mint chocolate cookies you've ever put in your mouth)

Julie M:  I have  6 large lump crab cakes

Ricky S: Tasty Meat, get yer tasty meat

Sam M:  Spicy sides, take some Pepcid now!

Brandy C:  Goat milk!

Laura G:  I can offer organic corn, peas and string beans.....

You get the idea.  Who's with me?

When I Grow Up...

When I was in kindergarten, I remember thinking I'd grow up to be something fancy like a doctor.  At the very least, I'd work in an office and carry a briefcase.  I didn't know that word, but I knew what those people looked like and they looked cool.  I knew I didn't want to be what my family was.  I didn't want to farm.  I am not looking down on that or talking bad about it.  They worked hard, long, and dirty.  I don't like to be dirty.  I don't breathe well.  I am not meant for manual labor.  None of that is conducive to farming.  My nephew wanted to be a bird or a tree.  That's a whole different life plan.

Sitting in our little circles on the floor talking about our futures, who ever says "I wanna be a crack ho!"  "I think I want to drive the garbage truck!" or "I wanna lead the Bloods!"  We make jokes about that all the time, at least I do.  Yet, I look around me and see so many of us who have ended up far away from where we planned.  How did that happen?  Not everyone screws up their educational plan.  Not everyone becomes a teen parent.  Not everyone messes up.  Life just happens. 

How is it that some of us can get out of that bad track and back on a good path?  It's easy for others to judge.  It's really easy to be on both sides more than once in a lifetime.  How did you end up where you are and are you happy with it?  If not, what do you need to get to happiness?

What IS Enough?

All relationships are hard.  Friendships can be rocky.  We all fight with our parents.  God knows romance/marriage is the stuff of war.  It ain't called sibling rivalry for nothin'.  Co-workers  can brainstorm one minute and back stab the next.  And, our bosses... we want to give them enough respect and leeway to give positive feedback but also not allow ourselves to be whipping posts. 

Where is the middle ground in any of those?  Of course we find it some days.  If we found it more often, Jerry Springer wouldn't be a household name nor would we immediately know what his name implies.  

One of my favorite sayings, much to many people's chagrin, is "Love is not enough".  I, myself, can fully admit to times when I've not loved enough to overcome obstacles in a relationship.  The more difficult part of a relationship is looking in the mirror and seeing what's really there.  Are we willing to do more than say "I love you" to fix a problem?  Sometimes, it's not even a problem.  It's a dynamic or  maybe it's a timing issue. 

Whatever the reasoning, whatever the issues,  do something to figure it out.  The whole in-between time sucks.  Make people laugh.  Do something nice.  Give a snuggle.  Write a note on a banana.  Sell raffle tickets.  Let the people you love know you love them in ways that are meaningful to them and do it often.  I'm smelling my lunch for tomorrow right now.  Kelly's cooking just so I can have something to take for my 12 hour shift.  That is enough for tonight. 

Whiplash!

I may not be the Original Prankster.  I think Dexter Holland thinks he was.  Sometimes, I sneak a few good ones in.  How the prankstee perceives them is another story.  It's been my experience that being straight up about a situation can be hurtful.  Being delicate by dropping hints can be useless because they don't pick up on them.  So, you go the joke route and bam!  The double take catches somebody so off guard they need a neck brace for 6 weeks.

I'm running away for the day.  Shhhh!  Don't tell anybody.  It's just a day trip.  If I were going alone, I might take a couple of unsuspecting bodies along who were breathing on the front end and come back alone.  Alas, I'm going with a good friend, so I'll make it a crime-free trip.  I have high expectations of peace and relaxation. 

Maybe I'll figure out different ways to get through to those I love the most.  Maybe they'll figure out ways to get through or accept me.  Maybe those are way too lofty expectations for 12 hours.  Maybe I'll come across multiple metal chickens for entertainment.  Here's one I found last night!

HAPPY FRIDAY ALL!

Did The Little Men See Me?

I came out a weird door.  There weren't any sparkly lights or magic dots.  I did get disoriented by the construction walls and cranes.  That jackass security guard was lucky I had my badge on or I would have socked him in the mouth for mocking my dazed stupor.

That actually happened last night, but it is a parallel to my life.  I feel like every day I wake up and walk out a weird door.  The only time I don't feel disoriented is in the world of intensive care.  The medical world is home to me.  I know that is utterly sad.

It's kind of like my life, my house is a fun house that isn't fun.  The mirrors give off reflections that are definitely skewed.  I don't see myself or my surroundings in a realistic way.  I survive by my trademark inappropriate humor and biting wit.  It is highly offensive to some.  I am the scary clown you don't want at your parties.

Luckily, I am a good faker.  In Bye Bye Birdie style  "Wipe off that "full of doubt" look, Slap on a happy grin!" I'm just waiting for the day, or night, to walk out the right door, into the right place, at the right time, with the right supplies, to the right reception...no magic needed.  Yeah, right.  I may as well throw in a Bugatti-with-the-winning-Powerball-ticket-in-the-driver's-seat-waiting at the end of that list.

Gray skies are gonna clear up...

You Wouldn't Like Me Angry

where did the bunny come from?

Like the Hulk, don't make me angry....

Let's be brutally honest; even if not publicly, then with ourselves.  How many of us mothers would always, capital A, put our children first?  Casey Anthony's mother did in the end.

I don't even mean to go that far.  I think she committed a crime in itself, but I'm making a point.

My point is that for 12 years, pregnancy and death included, Olivia has been number one in my life.  I was brought to tears this morning when another ferocious Mama Bear endured the heat to Princessify her grave once again.  MP, you are tha bomb.  I was brought to tears again this afternoon when I was berated for announcing and showing the condition of Olivia's grave by another mother. 

As any bereaved parent, mothers specifically, will tell you:  There is not the tiniest way in which anyone can begin to comprehend this walk unless they are walking it.  We hope you never comprehend it.  I believe it takes mothering to a whole new level.  It's as if we guard our mother status like the Pentagon, particularly those of us who lost our only children.  Guarding Olivia's grave is all I can do for her now.   You mess with that, you're messing with dangerous territory.

I will not back down.  I will not apologize.  I did  nothing wrong.  My daughter's life, death, and memory are far more important to me than anyone or anything else.   I'll accept my judgement from God himself and no mortal, thank you very much.

Cursing on Sacred Ground

Today I took Olivia's new flowers to her grave.  I know I said I like thunderstorms and all, but I was not trying to tempt Mother Nature.  O is buried next to a flag pole.  The sky was opening up and normally I would wait it out, but when I saw the state of HER sacred ground, the electricity coming from my head and out my ears won the toss up.

I have been...unhappy...shall we say, about the state of Olivia's grave for a good portion of the three and a half years she's been buried there.  Things have been stolen from her more than once.  The upkeep is sub par.  Keep in mind, this is not a city cemetery.  This is a church cemetery.  This is the church where I was raised.  My mother was a member there for over 50 years until the day she died.

Other graves in the cemetery are not this way.  I know because I walk around and check.  Even the ones directly beside her and my mother are not disregarded the same.  This is what infuriates me.  For the third time this summer, I used kitchen shears to cut grass so the foot stones were visible.  When Kelly and I arrived, it was like a field.  Yet, the pre-need stones to the right are nice and trimmed (these people are still alive).  The stones below and to the left are nicely trimmed.  What does the lawn guy or church have against the Hawks family???

Don't suggest I go ask.  I have, starting when the problems started.  I talked to him and the pastor.  I have left messages.  I am purely pissed off now.  I crouched and cut in rain and lightning next to a flag pole to make sure my mother's and daughter's graves looked decent.  Well, let's be honest, there's only so decent you can get with kitchen scissors.

after my hack job

is there granite under there?

yeah, kitchen scissors

So, if any of you that live close by and have a weed eater wouldn't mind, please drop by in a couple of weeks and do a sweep for me.  I don't own a weed eater or I would do it myself.

*Striking* Changes Between 5th Grade and 35

When I was in elementary school, I developed a terrorizing fear of thunderstorms.  For a period of time in 5th grade, I wouldn't even go to school or stay a full day for fear of being home alone during one after school.  The intensity of that fear diminished over time, but it wasn't until my early adulthood that I could even tolerate a storm. 

I think it must have been becoming a mother that really changed it for me.  I don't know if it was an instinct or something happened that forced me to change, but I remember when Olivia and I were first on our own and a storm came.  I only remember holding her, which I did all the time anyway, and downplaying it.  I don't remember feeling afraid.  I remember teaching her about the sounds.

Now, when one blows up or I hear it coming, I settle in to listen or watch.  If I'm at work, it's even better.  Being up on the 6th floor gives a good view of the tree branch lightning bolts.  If there's an empty patient room nearby, I sneak in to watch through the windows. 

I'm sitting here now listening to the thunder and rain.  The blinds are down so I don't see the lightning, but it just hits me how the hands of time have turned and how different things are in yet another aspect of my life.   

The Shit Storm Already Started

I know I am pretty Internet savvy.  I have a good friend who actually calls me "google" and uses me instead of the web when she needs something.  However, it never EVER occurred to me when I set this thing up that when I was answering those silly little about me questions it could wreak havoc on my life.

My interests in life are pretty simple in some ways and in others, they are outrageous.  I am intrigued at how different bodies of water get their names.  Seriously, what makes a cove different from a bay and at what size does a pond become a lake?  I digress....I learned the hard way tonight that by throwing in that I'm fond of sex in that little section, it can apparently lead others to believe that this blog is about some porn or this blogger is looking for hook ups.  WTMFS?

More power to the people who are, but it ain't so.  Come Sunday night, I won't promise not to breathe heavy and open an online forum to discuss the werepanther or vamp pairings, but my own stuff is most likely not going to be up for discussion.  I'm definitely not on a hunt either, just to make that clear.

In other news,  Hell wants its heater back.  They're getting cold down there.  Also, I saw a sand bar (technically a dirt bar) in the Yadkin River today.  Summer is kicking central NC's ass.

Welcome to my crazy life

Fair warning, this may not be suitable for sensitive eyes. 


I used to blog back in the day on MySpace.  It was a tremendous outlet for me during the worst days of my life.  Sometimes, it was pure misery leaking from my pores and out through my fingertips.  Others, I felt like I was doing stand-up from my keyboard.  It never really mattered.  All that mattered was that all of the chaos in my head, in my life was coming out in a way that really couldn't hurt anyone.  Now, don't get me wrong, there were times I called a bitch out and some feelings were hurt, but generally speaking....


This blog is for me.  I'm not looking to build a fan base, but hal-la-lu-yer if I get one.  ;-)