Light and Darkness

Eulogy

I like to josh and say my computer had PMS but I fear it's far worse than that. My poor lass is dying. She is slowly winding down and there is nothing to do at the moment. I'm not filled with concern but more of anger and frustration at the poor damn thing....afterall, how can she do this to me!

It started off with a little thing....she started losing time. Barely noticeable. Just quarter hour here. Then another quarter hour. Then suddenly I noticed she was two hours behind the next time I sat in front of the monitor.

I found the cursor sticking in position. Then came system freezes. Scan disk checks. Disk write errors. Delayed music or sounds.And now there are the creaking, spinning noises. She sounds like invalid on machines living by artificial means.

Yes, I know she needs a doctor. Tim would take care of her. He's good. He's worked on her before. But, I can't afford to fix her right now. So I'm risking and waiting for her to crash.

What am I going to do if she goes down?! I'll be computer-less?! I don't have caffeine addictions. I drink Cokes and coffees purely for the taste. I smoke a cigar once in a blue moon just for the pleasure. Alcohol? Maybe a drink or two once in a while but not really my cup of tea. BUT MY DAMN COMPUTER?!!! NO!!!! Don't take away my internet access. Don't take away my word processor. Don't take away my free cell. NOOOOOOO!

Tossing and turning

My nocturnal habits are something not to be desired. The horrible insomnia, the short amount of sleep, the 'odd' sleeping positions, and then there are the dreams.

Have I mentioned that for a year I had night terrors every night? That's not an exaggeration either. I would either wake up crying or addressing my Freudian apparitions in shouts or pleas.

Can you hear yourself sleeping? I can. I catch myself snoring, weeping, mumbling, laughing, moaning, or making any noise....while asleep. Still asleep but also conscious of things.

So...my lastest complaint is that I've been dreaming of the same person for the last week or so. Some dreams are barely imprinted on my brain when I wake but the majority are not. I have been in that semi-conscious state of hearing everything going on: the noises in the house, the television if left on, the damn cats. And then dreaming of this person. Unresolved, unfulfilled, unrequited. If the day wasn't going to be sleepy anyways....HELL!

My heart is full.

The end

My mother and my brother live here in town but Thanksgiving this year was without them. My brother spent it with one of his girlfriends in FWB. My mother was on a plane flying back from Las Vegas.

So, tonight was Thanksgiving dinner with mom. It was nice. Ham and mashed potatoes and veggies and fish and rice and Filipino veggies. Yum.

Then some karaoke. Not some lame ass karaoke machine. We're talking the Asian hook-up karaoke system. The system that is part of your stereo system with surround sound speakers. The system that plugs into your television set so you can see the video while singing the lyrics. The system that you can change treble, tempo, etc etc etc. The system that rates and ranks you. YES!!! THE karaoke machine. It's too much fun.

And then I sat outside in the chilly weather in the hot tub. Sooooo nice. Soooo verrrrrry nice. Floated on my back in the steaming 88 degrees staring at the sky. My mother lives in the rural part of town so her home is in a secluded area. The sky is nice and dark and you can see it framed by trees. Absolutely perfect.

Such a nice ending to this day.

ding ding ding...back to your corners

My demons are backing off quite a bit. I'm doing much better. Gregarious Naomi is slowly coming to the surface.

I worry about what I feel because I'm never sure what is real. Doctors and therapists ask about delusions and hallucinations but I worry about things more pressing. Is this love real? Is this sadness needed? Should I be this angry? How long will this happiness last? Am I content because I'm taking my meds?

Is my world real? I feel like I've been placed in some Twilight Zone or Beyond Limits episode. I question everything. And that leaves a shaky ground to stand on.

I have trust issues. Severe trust issues. I know the core of a person is good. I have no doubt. I'm just worried how people relate to me. I worry that I become to much for someone. I worry that they will take their warm shoulder from my chin. Their firm hand from my grip. Their kind words from my ear. Their love and support my aching heart.

Sigh...my internal world is a fragile place.

Thanksgiving

Controversy follows even Thanksgiving. And though I can never declare to know the unique oppression of the aboriginal people of the United States of America (the Native Americans), I can understand oppression. It saddens me that greedy people of any leadership, any country, any history or future would take advantage of its fellow man, woman, and child.

Forget the Pilgrims. Forget the Indians. Forget Plymouth Rock. We have a story that should be celebrated in every home. An annual day to celebrate what we're thankful for.

We take for granted our lives. The people in them. The jobs. The health. The single dollar in our checking account. We forget about the beauty of what we can create. Music. Art. Science. Photography. We dismiss the grass we have to mow. The kumquats we have to suckle on. The dog curled at our feet. The beach at our backdoor.

You don't have to believe in God, Allah, Buddah. You can just be thankful. Stop for one second, take one breath, and be thankful. Celebrate with family, friends, strangers. Celebrate with coworkers, pets, your mailman. Celebrate alone. But be thankful.

I'm not being glibbed and speaking from some Pollyanna, rose-colored room of my glass house. I'm in the thick of darkness too at times but I think about where I've been, and I will give thanks on this day.

Happy Thankgiving to my family, my friends, my like minded spirits, my enemies. I pray you each find a peace in your soul. I pray you find a happiness. I pray that thanksgiving is a renewal of spirit every day for each of you. I am thankful for you all.

Starting the transition to diaryland

The Fred entry pissed me off so I'm going to slowly work my way over to my other place. I don't know how long I'm going to keep both places. Maybe FOREVER!!!! Who knows?! But...it should be an interesting read, hmmm?

To make you think

"There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein

"I have learned this at least., by my experiment: If one advances confidently in the direction of his dream, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." - Henry David Thoreau

"There are always two choices, two paths to take. One is easy - And its only reward is that it is easy." - Unknown.

"Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos. Before a brilliant person begins something great, they must look foolish in the crowd." - I Ching

"I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." - The Little Engine that Could

We're not interested

I met Fred the day before I left for college and were just friends until spring break, often going back to that. We physically got swept away but never had sex. I fell in love with him but never told. Nearly two years, then I sensed her. Told me after months of my paranoid does he/doesn't he. When I asked him if we'd still be friends, "Of course."

Months later I heard from others, he was getting married. Devastation. But I went on. Having never told him I loved him. Having lost not only a love but also a friend.

Couple years later, pregnant-I visits dad. Phone rings. Brother answers. "Naomi, it's Fred." Joking? No? Talked for hours. "Fred, I loved you. It hurt when you left me." He loved me too and wished he'd chosen me. He was unhappy and missed our friendship.

Just friends never worked for us before. We wrote love letters. Phoned each other. He would visit whenever possible. But it was an affair. We planned to consummate our relationship. At THE moment, he couldn't. It would be cheating on his wife. WHAT? "But I love you. I'm leaving her tonight. I'll be back."

I heard from him days later. He did tell her he was leaving but couldn't do it. He had to make his marriage work. He didn't want to look back on his life and wonder if he didn't try hard enough. "I love you more than her."

"No, you don't. If you did, you would be here. But you're her husband, not mine. I won't be your leftover girl."

It was over. I've since thrown away his letters. I've done pretty well until I searched for him. Called him. I'd recognize his voice among 1000s.

Naomi: May I speak to Fred?

Fred: This is he.

Naomi: This is Naomi.

Fred: We're not interested.

Naomi: Ok. Thanks.

Hung up with a smile lasting seconds. Heartbreak never ends, does it?

Mea culpa

Sigh...Ok. I need to purge.

I am absolutely horrible to myself. I've never been as cruel to my worst enemy than I am to myself on an average day. I think if any of you were to be a ghost following me about in my daily life, you would be horrified at what I do.

I've managed to take away most of my soul's joy. I think as some twisted form of punishment. I don't think I'm trying to learn a life's lesson though. I think this demonic Marquis de Sade has taken control of my judgement.

The ugly profanities I use as mantras inside my head.The self interrupting starts to great projects and ideas that lead to nothingness.

I spend more time in retrospection than I should. Why do I do it? God, so many reasons why. Voices from my childhood haunt me still, criticizing my decisions and actions and even the breath the flows from my body.

How do I stop? Lobotomy? If I could cut out the damaged portion of my brain and still be vibrant, I would do it. Have my friends lather me with compliments every moment of the day? Please?! But that's unrealistic. I don't want any of you to validate me.

I want my soul to soar because of me. I want my lungs to be filled with love for myself. I want my joy to return. I want to stop punishing myself.

Would you save me?

I keep thinking about the new knives I bought for Thanksgiving. How sharp the carving knife is. I think about cutting my wrists while standing in my shower. I try to push those thoughts aside today with thoughts of survival and hope and tomorrow. Those thoughts are not working.

I feel like I'm becoming invisible in everyone's life. I'm made up only of mistakes and bad decisions and sad emotions. And I feel like I'm an outsider looking at all of you. I see every single one of you passing on with your lives.

And I want you all to stop and pay attention to me. Not just for a phonecall. Not just for an email. Not just for a chat. I need one of you to help save me. Would any of you? Are any of you free? Would any of you drop two days for me? Tell your bosses, your students, your friends that Naomi needs you? Or will you tell yourself and me that I'll get through this one too. "You always do, Naomi."

I need someone. GODAMNIT!!! I need one of you to listen to me. Listen to the horrible nastiness that is dwelling in me right now and at 3 am. I need one of you to crawl into my bed and cry with me. I need one of you to call me in the middle of the night when I'm really scared of those knives calling me...just to make sure I ignored them. I need one of you to drop your lives in your corners of the world for me.

Because I'm doing well. I'm really not.

I'm just strange

I do some of the oddest things. Nothing simple like mayonnaise on fries which is fantastic but something that has just started in the last year.

I suffer from horrible insomnia quite often. Sometimes it's just a drawback from the medications...very rarely. Sometimes the stress of my life. Sometimes the mania. For a period of a year, I was having night terrors every single night.So, I've grown accustomed to lack of sleep

Well, one day in the last year I found myself asleep beside my bed on my knees. My head and arms were resting on my bed but I was kneeling. Like a devoted Christian who had fallen asleep praying. How I got there, I do not know. I'm a lite sleeper so I would have remembered.

Not a big deal but it's something that has been growing more frequent in my bedtime mannerisms. I wake to find myself kneeling beside the couch, my daughter's bed, or my own bed. STRANGE!!! If I find myself beside the toilet, I think I'm really going to worry.

On your birthday, I got the gift.

Happy birthday, Carrie! You are an amazing person whose beauty is comprised of grace, intelligence, love, physical presence, humor, creativity and enthusiasm.

Your calm poise reminds me to stand tall and confident in myself.

Your infectious smile reminds me to enjoy the divine simplicity of creation.

Your altruistic day reminds me to extend myself to my brethern.

You, my friend, remind me that God is good and the world is beautiful.

I love you! Mahal kita! Se agapo! Te amo!

Happy Birthday!

And God said, "Let there be laughter."

Peter standing at the pearly gates feels the call of nature but can't leave. Moments later he sees Matthew and asks, "Will you watch the gates for me?"

"Too much responsibility. Uh-uh." Matthew says and leaves.

Peter stuck at the gates tries to ignore the growing discomfort. Time passes when Luke approaches. "Luke, will you please help me and watch the gates so I can go the bathroom?"

"NO!" Luke yells. "I let the wrong person in the last time. There was HELL to pay."

Now Peter is in excruciating pain BUT cannot leave. Soon Jesus arrives. Peter has sweat on his brow and is in tears when he stammers, "Will you please help me?"

"Of course, Peter. Anything you ask," Jesus says.

"Will you watch the gates while I go to the...um.."

"Yes. Go!"

As Jesus waits, a small figure creeps from the distance. He squints to see an old man bent over a cane and rushes to meet him. The elder's head is bowed and his shoulders are slumped. His wrinkled hands rest upon a cane to help his shuffled walk. His chest heaves as he weeps.

"What's wrong?" Jesus asks.

"I've lost him. Can't find him. Should be here."

"Tell me who. I'll find him. I know everyone."

Lifting a weathered palm, "He has holes in his hands where the nails use to be." Gently rapping his foot with his cane, "He has nails in his feet where the nails use to be."

Jesus with quivering voice cries, "Father?"

With aged slowness, the senior lifts his face, looks into Jesus' eyes and says, "Pinocchio?"

"Who says you can't buy me love?" or "For the Wright price"

Now, I know there is someone out there madly in love with me. Yes I'm talking to you. Your soul aches because I'm just absolutely grand. and you want to show me some way that you have been infected by my magnificence. Want to get me a trinket of your affection? Well, there are a few Frank Lloyd Wright designs on the market and any one of them would do.

Starting holiday traditions

My daughter and I are going shopping today for our Thanksgiving dinner. It will be our first official Thanksgiving dinner and I'm excited. It's not that we've never had Thanksgiving. It's not that I've never cooked Thanksgiving. QUITE THE CONTRARY!!

Just ask a friend or two that has been to my family's house for dinner on Thanksgiving, I can cook a mean Thanksgiving dinner. I'm good. My turkeys are juicy inside and have that Martha Stewart gold and toasty outside. Damn fine bird. And my side dishes rock! I'm good. Damn good. (wait, chili flashbacks)

Seriously, every year except last year since my parents divorced which was 1993 I've cooked the entire Thanksgiving meal myself in other people's homes....but never in my own home.

So this year will be our first year of Thanksgiving tradition. I don't know what dishes we'll have as of yet. I don't know if we'll watch the parades or stop by Blockbuster's before the holiday weekend to stockpile the classics. I want my daughter's input. I've asked her opinion on matters since her birth.

My parents disagree with my parenting style saying that children should never be given decisions. They should be told what to do. But I don't want my child growing up believing she has to bow to the whims of others and mold her personality to fit neatly in with the "in" crowd. I want her to declare herself and say the "in" crowd is a joke. It's a figment of the social imagination. I want her to be confident.

So, little thing of what favorite thing she wants to eat at Thanksgiving dinner is important. Let her help make it. Make some great new Thanksgiving day traditions with new dishes perhaps. YEAH! I'm excited.

If you want to come over, EVERYONE is invited. New tradition in my home though. You can't come empty handed. ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOWED!! You must bring your favorite Thanksgiving tradition. It can be a side dish, a story, a song, a wish, anything. It can be one from your family passed down over 200 years or one you make up on the spot and carry forth for the next 200 years. If you can't make it but would love to share something, I would love to hear ideas. Post something or email me.

My goodness, God did a great job!!!

A movie came out in the 80s that had some actors first starting out in their careers. Mystic Pizza. Julia Roberts among them. But this is NOT about her. THIS is about only one of the rest of them. Vincent D'Onofrio.

MY GOD!!!!

He's a tall giant of a man. Perfect specimen of a person. Beautiful. Gorgeous. I generally prefer dark hair and dark eyes and Vincent was blessed with both. I prefer tall men and Vincent is yummy tall. I prefer men with a solid giant statue protectiveness to them and MY GOD!!!!! Vincent, you are Adonis.

I am sadden that he is married. I am depressed that he is unattainable. I am drooling...hold on.....

I have yet to see all of his works which surprises me because I am in absolute lust with Vincent and missing any opportunity to see the man act is just a sin. He's not only pretty to look at...he's talented too boot.

You know the list? The list everyone has even if it's not written down or laminated of famous people you would do if given the chance? Vincent. Vincent.

MY GOD!!!!

I'm moving...perhaps

Because I tend to prattle on, I'm thinking of moving my journal to diaryland. I've actually got a diary but only two sentences. I don't know code....But I will let you know when and if I really do move....if there are people really out there reading. I know there is at least one faithful reader. THANK YOU, CARRIE FOR READING (you can't tell me again that I'm not writing for you, WOMAN!)

Anyways...if anyone wants to do a great layout for me over there at diaryland or just teach me basic or give me the title of a book that teaches idiots to code sites, I would pay you back in kind.

Friends in low places

Now...years ago Garth Brooks had THE song that was sang over and over and over in every damn bar in the United States....so it seemed. I'm not even going to go back to those dark times but for lack of a better song at this moment (probably because my brain is slowly shutting down for the night) I want to say thanks to my friends.

Just keep kicking me in the ass every now and then while you shower me with love. I'll be ok. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. All of you are so amazing.

Have I mentioned that I love you?!

Strong Enough by Sheryl Crow

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I'd be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Nothing's true and nothing's right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can't change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
It's try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man?

When I've shown you that I just don't care
When I'm throwing punches in the air
When I'm broken down and I can't stand
Will you be strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave

Stakes, crucifixes, and cloves of garlic

I had a tough time at work today. All started well and then...it wasn't.

I just desparately need someone to hug me. I feel five years old inside my heart. I want someone who is an adult to reach within the tattered guarded insulated outside of me and pull that shaking feeble child that really is me into his or her lap. I want someone to kiss my tears away and whisper in my ear, "shoosh, it's ok. I'm here. It's all going to be ok. I'm going to help. I know. Shoosh, love, shoosh." I want him/her to hold me fiercely to their breast so I can weep and sleep and not worry.

I want so much to reach out to someone for help. I try with attempts of matter-of-factness and humor. I try but am reluctant. I recoil for so many reasons. I don't want to be weak. I don't want to be an emotional vampire. I don't want to overwhelm or overburden. I don't want to cling. But in the end, I break down and look so much worse.

I need help. But fuck!! It's too hard for me. I can't expect anyone else to even want to try.

Let me tell you something that breaks my heart every day. I've written myself off as ever being able to be in a relationship. One of my heart's desires but I don't see it happening. And it hurts...Inevitable loneliness due to something I can't get rid of and can't seem to control.

God, I hate bipolar. I HATE BIPOLAR! I HATE BIPOLAR! I HATE BIPOLAR!

Photo-phobia

I hate getting my picture taken. I avoid it as much as possible.

Today the unavoidable occurred: FAMILY PHOTO DAY! My daughter and I haven't had a family picture done in a few years because of my photo-phobia. Now, I don't have the money to do something elaborate like my friend at work who takes her children in every three months and spends approximately $300 for the professional photog. I've got to go the cheaper route...but that's not the point.

I hate my picture taken. Few reasons why but the primary reason is I'm just not attractive. And every year I get older I seem to get a bit heavier (thank you Prozac, Lithium, Depakote, Lamictal!!!).Yuck!!! And you know the old saying, the camera adds ten pounds....geez, I hate pictures.

But, I suck it up. BECAUSE I have one bloody family portrait with my parents and siblings. Want to know when it was taken? I'll give you a hint. My brother was born in 1976 and in the portrait he was sitting in a blanket covered carrier type thing because he probably just learned to walk. I do not want my child growing up wondering why we never took family pics.

So.....I carry my fat ass to the studio and pretend I'm happy with myself. And they turn out ok. I'm depressed for the rest of the day but know it will pass. Afterall, it's not about me and my hang-ups. It's about family: a memory of my child and me.

Your slow voice continues to snake through my mind, redoubling as it echoes.
The light touch of your tones have me heavy like an addict on opiates.
My eyelids weigh like stones and my head sways to your enchanting timbre.
The tease of your vocal rumblings have charmed me.

(from 111503)

Twice

Drove by the Book Garden on the way to the post office. It was closed! IT WAS CLOSED! It was upsetting. I had built myself into a frenzy and then nothing. And to further torment me, I had to drive past it again on the way to Shoney's. I felt unsatisfied.

So after breakfast and a run-in with Steph and her mom at the intersection (that turned into sitting at Denny's chatting with them), kid and I ran went to this other bookstore. There was no way in hell I was getting out of having a book today.

This bookstore is called The Giant Bookstore. It has discounts up to 80% on books including hardcovers. I spent $37.00 on five hardbacks and four softcovers including an unabridged of the complete works of Shakespeare. Omigod, it's starting again.

That wasn't enough. My appetite was large today. I HAD to see if Book Garden was open. And it was! Turned over some old books I no longer cared for to the cute intellectual bookstore owner (with whom I had some stimulating conversation on Steinbeck's The Moon is Down and C.S. Lewis...too bad he's married...damn) and got $15 in credit. Walked out with four more books and $7.50 in credit still.

OH YES! BABY! OH GOD! YESSSSS! YESSSS! YESSSS!!! AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!

So, I am quite satisfied today. Very. I think the only thing that would make me happier would be a fantastic man with juicy lips, cuddling naked in the bed beside me breaking open one of my newly purchased books and reading to me.

AAAAA...AAAAA...YESSSS!! YESSSS!!!

For anyone who really really knows me or has had one really good conversation with me, you know that I get a bit excited about things that I like. I tend to go on...on and on...and on and on...like the annoying Engergizer Bunny that you want to pop its head off.

WELL, today is an EXCITING DAY. What will I be doing? I should be cleaning my house (I'm always saying that and will eventually do it properly) but I won't be. I AM GOING TO THE BOOKSTORE!!! Not just any bookstore, mind you. But a secondhand bookstore with books to exchange in tow.

Now, there are things that I think are some of the most orgasmic experiences outside of the sexual arena that give me that...how can I be genteel...tingle. And I don't exaggerate. I don't know what it is. Naming a few...Looking through a telescope at some heavenly body. Meeting a fantastic person especially if he is a creative sort. Being surrounded and being allowed to touch papers and pens...yummmmmy. And going to bookstores.

So today after I've picked up a birthday present at the post office (by the way, November is my birthday, not just the 9th so you're welcomed to continue saying happy b-day or pampering me), I'm heading to the Book Garden.

If you've never been to a secondhand store, what is wrong with you! Books are obscenely cheap and if you bring books to exchange...THEY COST NOTHING!!!! OH MY GOD, I THINK I'M GOING TO.....AAAAAAA. AAAAAA. AAAAA. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Chili's not my forte?

I LOST!!! WAAAAAAAAAA!!

Now, I believe I make a damn good pot of chili. It's gooood. And to prove it, I'll make you some and you can try. BUT WHY OH WHY DO I LOSE EACH AND EVERY TIME? Ok, it's only been twice but 2 out of 2 would be 0% at bat if this was a baseball analogy.

It's really not a big deal (sniff sniff) but I really do want to win once...just once. No, it's not enough that my family likes it. I want to win the top prize. I want the glory to rub in the other chili cookers' faces. "Ah-ha. Take that. I beat you.You're chili tastes like soup. Pish Posh, I say."

I came close the first time I entered a chili cook-off. I got second place. BUT I lost to chili that tasted like spaghetti sauce. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE CHILI!!! But, it's ok. No big deal.

I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I wouldn't talk so much smack before the contests. I guess each time (yes, I know...it's only been twice) I had to learn a lesson in humility. BUT IT'S GOOD CHILI!! I BLAME IT ON THE JUDGES!! THEY WERE BOUGHT!!

Hmm....I'm hungry for some mashed potatoes.

AC/DC

Ok, I haven't gone to bed yet. I just wanted to leave this last thought to ponder on. Every now and then Jay Leno hits the streets and asks the every day Joe/Jane answers to questions they should know like who's the president of the US or what's the name of the wall in Berlin. And then every so often he has a few of the more memorable Joes/Janes in the studio for the battle of the sidewalk Joes/Janes and well....to make fun of them.

One of the BEST answers tonight...well, here's the question first and all the answers.

Jay: "What does AC mean?"

First Jane: "air conditioning" (not quite what he wanted but she got a point)

Jay: "No, AC/DC."

Joe: "It's a band." (not quite what he wanted but he got a point)

Jay: "Yes, It's a band but not what we need."

Second Jane: "After Christ, Devil Comes."

Now, people....how many of us have been thinking that AC/DC had something to do with currents? I mean. Come on. Have we been wrong all this time?!

Two bodies would be better

Tomorrow is the Clinic's Brownie and Chili Cook-off. I acquired the title of Queen of the Cook-off last year, not for winning top honors but for organizing a stellar event. Evidently I recruited the most participants last year making it a great success and raising a bit more money for the cause which is the United Way. Well, I did a horrendous job with my queenly duties this year. I didn't trudge my way through each department this time nudging people along. I feel awful because I fell to my own personal problems this year and left most of the work to my friend Kim. I feel awful. :-( I decided to make chili this year for the competition. It's simmering in the crockpot now and it smells gooood.

Here's my thought for the day. We should be given two bodies to use. While one is resting, the brain is slipped into the other's body and off it goes. WHY?! Because I have too much damn stuff to do. We all do and we don't have enough time to do it in. Too tired physically to keep up with all our tasks. At least I am. But my brain won't stop going. So what happens? I fight insomnia on a regular basis. I go through the day with a little bit of an edge to me. Man, I'm sleepy but I just don't want to sleep.

I'm going to stop because I am rambling and am too tired. Going to stir the chili (anyone want a bowl?) and then head off to bed. Perhaps...

A day off but at what price?

My daughter's school is closed today due to the holiday. I had completely forgotten last night until I had picked her up from the after-school care and got "see you Wednesday."

Shit.

So, since I was taking those signs to my mother's that I was unable to do at lunch I toyed with the idea of asking her. Asking my mom for help is like coming before Osiris after death for the weighing of your heart. The Egyptian god would take your heart from you and place it on one side of the scale and on the other plate he would lay a feather. Your heart being a record keeper of your sins had to equal the weight of the feather in order to pass on the glories of the afterworld. Asking my mom for any sort of help. Never knowing the outcome or her reaction. I assume the worst and if I get more....woohoo.

Gave her the signs. Chatted with her a bit. And asked if the kid could stay at the shop with her (my mother is a seamstress and owns her own business)....the weighing...and......no. I can't say that I'm not disappointed.

So, I have the day off. But I worry about it because I have missed alot of days lately due to my illness. I'm worried I'm going to lose this job. I've been reassured that I'm an awesome employee and that they adore me. BUT I can't help but worry. I've missed days here and there throughout my work capable life but never an extended amount of time as a result of my bipolar ( I have to pat myself on the shoulder for that). But when will they decide that they've had enough of me?

Just another manic Monday

The Bangles got nothing over me, baby.

At lunch today I spent forty minutes driving away from where I started to end where I started...not what I had intended to do.

I was suppppppposed to take my mother a few signs at lunch. She works at the other end of town about 20 minutes from where I work including traffic. There's no cutting that time down no matter which direction I take. So, I opted for the interstate over the busier, traffic light heavy streets.

I was doing pretty good with the windows down and Brittany and Madonna singing back up to me. Then I decided to try a slightly shorter course. Not really new to me but....that's where it all went wonky.

I missed the first exits. No prob. I'll take the next one I know. Nope. I missed that one. No prob. I know where I'm going. Then I started heading toward the beach. NOT WHERE I NEED TO GO. SO, I turned left at the next light which seemed like a logical turn since I just came from that direction. And that's where it went bad. Terribly bad.

Mind you. I don't fear getting lost. I don't really get lost. I know where I am. I'm usually just not where I want to be. Make sense?

Instead of turning around at several opportunities. Instead of turning onto several roads I recognized. I kept going. And forty minutes later, I sat at the same traffic light where I began my journey. Instead of singing to Top 40, I was cussing. My stomach was growling. And the thought of trying to make a 40 minute round trip journey in 20 minutes was making me roll my eyes at myself.

So, I made a deposit at the bank and got Schlotzsky's.

You say it's your birthday. It's my birthday too.

That is the only line of that Beatles' song I know.

Yes, it is my birthday if one couldn't have guessed or haven't been reading the last few self involved entries (wait a minute....they're all self involved).

So, I am on a brief break from my mother's house where the activity will be centering around. I'm not too thrilled about that because spending an exorbitant amount of time with my mother isn't a Georgia peach.What is it with women and their relationships with their mothers? We'll save this topic for another time.

Just a recap for last night....

I was going to go out with my sister, brother, and friend from Memphis but it didn't work out as planned. My daughter was not happy with the thought of having to stay away from me for too long so I had to settle for drinks at Ruby Tuesdays with them instead.

It was yummy....I don't drink much because I don't see the need. A few drinks give my muscles enough thought to relax slightly which gives me INTENSE PAIN. It is after a few drinks when I realize how stressed I really am. So, there is no fun in just one or two. If I drink, I have to run past the door of pain into complete unadulterated intoxication. Not my thing. I've been drunk a few times but I get extremely.....friendly....and having no relationship right now, well, that's no fun. Besides, I like to be in control of myself as much as I can.

Anyways...had a few shots last night, good conversation (good secretive stuff *wink wink nudge nudge*), and laughs. When we got back to my mum's, my daughter was awake and waiting. I did not get to go out with the rest of the gang.

Today....we'll have to see how it goes. Mother will ask what I want to do for dinner and like last year and all times else, we'll go where she decides. But I'll bite and say "Copelands."

"IT COSTS HOW MUCH?!"

Giddy mood today. Bit flirty. Overall, felt pretty good.

I started a new mood stablizer Wednesday. Thank God. Lamictal was not good. My doc was increasing it every week and my moods were still erratic. And bonus, it's a medication that causes weight gain. YUCK! So, I demanded a change and got what I wanted. It's going to take a few days or so to get accustomed to the Zonegran. The waves of nausea and the sleepiness is a bit tiring. But for someone who sleeps 2-4 hours on average nightly, it may be a good change to get some sleep.

Speaking of meds...my supervisor and I discussed US medicine today. It is one thing that fires me up. One would think that the richest nation in the world could get its act together so its citizens could get adequate medical care and afford prescription drugs.

My psychotropic drugs are EXPENSIVE. Thanks to the doc for samples. I was on a medication that cost nearly $400 monthly. I was switched from it to Lamictal because I needed to have an increase and no other samples were available. And yes, I do have medical insurance (with a horrible prescription plan and mental health allowances). This is why citizens pick and choose each month between food, living expenses, and meds. It makes me sick.

So many people go without medications. When I lived in Memphis, I attended a downtown mental health clinic because of my HMO insurance. Weekly I sat with the homeless and the working poor, like myself. It was a humbling experiencing. It's a sad state of affairs when presenters at the AMAs or the Emmys are given gift bags worth $30,000+ for two minutes of work....BUT most of the US citizens can't afford a prescription that cost a few hundred dollars and can be the deciding factor between life/death and life with ease/disease.

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Only two days until the anniversary of me.

YAY!

My sister and nephews will be here Saturday visiting (and to help celebrate). I'm excited. I just adore my sister. She is absolutely beautiful in all the ways that one would expect. Her physical beauty draws men to her like moths to the flame. And her disposition shines even more stunningly.

My dearest friend Carrie sent me a flashing turkey gram today. FUNNY! VERY FUNNY! You, Carrie make me smile. She's an amazing person. Time and time again I have to go back to a Biblical passage to describe her. It's the story of Jesus telling the crowd to be child-like. That's Carrie. She approaches the world with this charming enthusiasm. She gets excited and treasures every moment. And like a child, she absorbs the experiences with this awed happiness. Like she unconsciously knows that what's happening now is remarkable and thrilling and important and life changing. She's beautiful. When I grow up, I want to be just like her.

Yesterday I got an email from one of my oldest friends, Brian. I've known him since the eigth grade (and he was in seventh). Now, being a military brat having a friend for this long is truely an amazing feat. We met in Indianapolis and we're chums in Mr. Shattner's algebra class. The second semester of my freshman year in high school I moved. SO, we had little time knowing each other in physical presence. Brian and I have spent most of our friendship in letters and phone calls. One letter to him was 50+ pages, handwritten (so over 100 pages of actual text).

hmmmm...I suddenly realized that I'm tired. I'm going to bed...maybe....

Open toed shoes

Years ago I sat around with friends and my sis eating at the Golden Arches on a lazy Sunday. The discussion as it usually did on Sundays went from topic to topic when it landed on the mother lode....SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION. Is it just me or is this the funniest thing in the world?

That Sunday, Carol told me a story of a woman walking out of church. She was walking casually with other attendees out of service, down the stairs when suddenly the foot she had just lifted to step upon spontaneously combusted. Imagine her surprise when she tumbled down the stairs.

(laugh)

wait a minute (gasping laugh) let me (crying laugh) catch (snort) myyyyyyy (heheheh) breath (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

ok.ok.ok. hold on (snicker) ok.ok. ok. (guffaw) I'm almost done.(ahem, cough.) ok.

So. Years later I was talking to another friend and I mentioned my love for this strange and fascinating thing. Niambi thought it was funny too. Coincidentally the Discovery Channel had a special on it which sparked (hehe) our interests even more.

And it begs us to ask: If all that is left is a foot, do you get a full size coffin or a custom made one? Do you dress the foot in its best sock and shoe? What if the owner of the foot liked to wear sandals all the time? Should you give it a pedicure? And would it be an open casket service? Should one even think about cremation of the remains or would that be too traumatic for the family?

For being heartless to the victims of SHC, we've resigned ourselves to dying so uniquely. And we've promised each other that whoever survives the other may obnoxiously laugh at the other's funeral. I can see it now. Niambi sitting in the pew among the crying mourners trying to hold a few snickers in. Then when the priest chants the last rites over my perfect uncharred ear and says "dust to dust, ashes to ashes..." Niambi falls weeping to the aisle, grabbing her stomach in laughter and snorts "he said ashes!"

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Rules of attraction

What rules of attraction do homo sapiens follow? Are we as simple as any other animal on this dirt ball we call earth? Have we complicated them with our ability to use our opposable thumbs, our discernible speech patterns, and emotional nuances?

The majority of animals have given up emotional ties to their partners in exchange for the proliferation of their genetic superiority. A few birds as well as other animals below the human mate for life, which causes one to think what instinct is involved.

But man...should we really put ourselves precariously at the top of the animal kingdom? More and more marriages are resulting in divorce due to adultery. I have no doubt that love is involved in marriages. However, that carnal instinct to mate with an attractive partner draws spouses into infidelity.

And what of the initial attraction? Are men and women attracted to mates of "inferior" genetics? At first glance would a man considered handsome to society standards approach an overweight woman in a wheelchair? Would a "beauty queen" swoon over a rail thin man missing an arm? Would the chafing man with ezcema pray for the toothless woman to be his? Of course it happens. I can't presume to know what each of us considers attractive. But on a whole?

What are our individual rules of attraction? Are we picky? Open-minded? Do we say "everyone's game" when looking for a partner? Our parents, teachers, society-mates reinforce that "it's what's on the inside that counts. Don't judge a book by its cover." But are we following instinct? Is that involuntary part of us scrutinizing over weaknesses and unconsciously forcing us to pass over quality people?

*twiddle twiddle twiddle*

I'm bored.

I want to get in the car and drive around town with the windows down, my hand wind-surfing, and the radio screaming.

I want to sneak into someone's pool, strip naked, and float on my back staring at the sky.

I want to go to Wal-mart with friends and play chase between the aisles on rollerskates.

I want to go the hospital and peer in at the newborns in the nurseries.

I want to steam the windows of my car with a beautifully handsome man.

I want to fork my neighbor's yard.

I want to grab a bucket and look for frogs under rocks and porches and leaves.

I want to get caught up in late night conversation until a chill overtakes me and my teeth seize.

hmmmmpphhh

"With love, Australia"

I just received an unexpected call this evening from a friend of mine. She is moving to Sydney next month with her family. I am very excited for her (and shamelessly admit a bit jealous).

But for my dear friend...I pray the best for her and her family. Even though Pennsylvania wasn't next door, I still felt I could easily get there to visit her. But Australia. Now, what the hell am I going to do? :-) I'll just have to win the Florida lottery.

Seriously my friend deserves the best. She had such a trying time when we first met. But her determination and strength pulled her through the tough times and she has been blessed. Kudos.

Be safe and be happy, Aparna.

With love, Nae

Feeling of newness

Blank sheet of paper. Fresh snow. Unbroken sand. Just bought book. Tomorrow. A beginning friendship. Romance's first kiss. Plant's flowerbud. Crisp twenty from ATM. Package of.... Movie previews. 0 miles on the odometer. An opened gift. Clean folded towel after a shower. Uncut baked lasagna. Warm loaf of bread from the oven. First day of new month.