the whole long drawn out story

For Valentine's Day, I had scheduled an afternoon for myself at the spa. Thirty minute massage, manicure, pedicure -- all the things that make you feel good without the guilt or weight gain. RL was out of town, so I decided there wasn't any reason to waste a perfectly good excuse to have him pay for a relaxing day at the spa -- so I made the appointment. And just because he ended up coming home 2 weeks early didn't mean I was canceling either. Good thing. While the masseuse was doing her magic, she found a lump in the middle of my back. "Do you have a cyst?" "No, I don't think ... what the crap?" The next day I called the doctor and made an appointment.

It wasn't a big lump, maybe the size of a small pecan (that's puh-con not pee-can) and I've had lumps show up here and there before. One on the side of my neck, just below my ear, was about the size of a pea and removed several years ago. I've even found lumps in my legs (I know that sounds really awful, but you can't see them -- there's too much ... um ... fatty tissue covering them) and the doctor has always asked, "Do they hurt?" "Well, only if I push down on them." "It's not cancer then. Cancer doesn't hurt." But I haven't had those (yes, plural) removed, because I've got enough hail damage and stretch marks on my legs, I don't need scars on them too. So, anyway, I wasn't too worried (at least, that's what I kept telling myself) about the new lump and when RL asked, as he was leaving for work, if he should go to the doctor with me, I assured him it was no big deal and I'd be fine.

But sitting alone in the doctor's office, waiting for what seemed an hour, but was actually only about 15 minutes, the thoughts started running through my head. The bad thoughts. The thoughts you're not supposed to think, because you'll get yourself all worked up over nothing. And then my doctor came in, checked my back, sat down in her little chair on rollers, and looked up at me. "Well, what we can do is take x-rays and find out immediately if it's cancer." She might as well have hit me in the stomach. I sucked my breath in, "Ok." Then she asked, "Does it hurt?" "No." "Hmmm . . . well, we can find out right away." Within 30 minutes or so the x-rays showed everything was clear. No large white mass indicating cancer. The next step was to make an appointment with a surgeon, let him check it out, and have the lump removed.

The waiting was the hard part. Two weeks isn't a long time, but it is when you have an overactive imagination. I kept telling myself it would be fine, there wasn't anything to worry about, the doctor assured me it was not a big deal, he performs this procedure "all the time." But I don't get cut on all the time and just the thought of being "put to sleep" scares the hell out of me.

When the day finally came, I was calm on the outside and a nervous wreck on the inside. And just as we were leaving for the hospital I reminded RL, if I died on the operating table, not to buy me an expensive casket and make sure people don't waste their money on flowers, but make a donation to a charity. I'm weird like that. But, you know, things happen and I wanted to make sure it was said.

Of course, everything went smoothly and I only had a minor breakdown just before I "went under." The surgeon and his staff were great about it, though, and I fell asleep with the feeling these complete strangers genuinely cared for me. Thirty minutes later (amazingly) I woke up and it was all over. I was still alive. I survived.

just a little rant

Yes, I'm giving advanced warning: This is a rant. But a rant with a happy ending. Well, maybe not happy, but at least there is a conclusion. I try hard not to rant through this medium, because this is a semi-anonymous blog and my friends and family read this. Even RL reads this from time to time. So I try to remain accountable for what I say -- you know, protect the innocent and all that. And now you've had fair warning and sufficient time to click over to some other blog to read a light-hearted account of ... whatever.

Some of you know I had surgery this week. A small procedure. Not a big deal. (I'm working on a post about that, by the way.) And though I am feeling great and only cringe slightly when I make sudden movements, the recovery process has been less than wonderful. There are certain things I expected during this recovery period that didn't happen and I feel let down. To be specific, I expected my family to do things for me that just didn't happen.

The surgery was Tuesday afternoon, so in the getting-my-house-in-order phase I did what I could to prepare for the days I wouldn't be capable of doing much of anything. Honestly, there were a lot more things I could've done, but just getting the laundry caught up and the dishes washed made me feel as though I were on top of things around here.

But here it is Friday, and as I walked into the kitchen this morning there was a foul (probably fowl) smell coming from the overflowing kitchen trash. Seriously! Why hasn't anyone taken it out? What are they waiting for? And as I went about making the morning coffee, stacking dishes and clearing a space for the coffee pot, I realized dirty dishes had been piling up since Tuesday morning.

I got mad. Infuriated. What are these people thinking?! If they had just had surgery or were sick or whatever and couldn't do things they normally do, I would pick up the slack. I would do whatever was necessary to make them feel comfortable and make sure they felt I was taking care of them. I would make sure they knew they didn't have to do anything and the only thing they had to be concerned with was feeling better.

Moments later, feeling all good about myself and how wonderful I would be as their care-giver, I realized I had fallen into an old habit: expecting people to be someone other than themselves. See, the more I thought about what I would do the more infuriated I became that they aren't like me. Not that I'm better than them, but that's what I was thinking. But I'm not better; I'm just different. I look at things differently. I do things differently. I behave differently. I am me and they are them (or something like that). And when I expect people to be themselves I won't be disappointed.

So now I'm going to clean the kitchen and take out the trash and feel good about having the ability and energy to accomplish something today . . . because that's how I am. :)

inspiration

I'm inspired to write today. About what, I'm not sure. It may merely be a distraction from the essay I need to write about how the U.S. elects a president. It may be a caffeine high from too much coffee this morning and too little food. It may even be from a late night chat I had with a friend I reconnected with on Facebook. Regardless, I want to write.

Obviously, the last several posts may have seemed to be filler (phyller?), but I can assure you they were not. The past month I haven't been able to focus and the things that have filled my mind, screaming to be released, have not made their way out in the forms of my own words. The songs, the poems, the philosophies of others have come to my rescue as I've wandered around in my own brain searching for a complete thought.

Yesterday I analyzed all I've been feeling lately, all the emotions that I've experienced on the roller coaster ride that is my life at the moment. This is what I came up with (in no particular order): anxiety, fear, betrayal, confusion, dismay, hopelessness, anger, despair, disgust, loneliness, surprise, happiness, elation, patience, excitement, satisfaction, love.

Now, thinking about all of that, there's a lump in my throat. Does that ever happen to you? You know, that tight choking feeling you get in your throat because of some strong emotion. I've felt it at other times in my life, but it started happening more frequently after Mom died. Now it's back again with a vengeance! A daily occurrence -- a sorrow that wells up in my throat to the point that I'm not sure I can breathe. But I do. Breathe. Deep. And the lump begins to melt, though not completely.

If you've been reading my blog for any time at all, you must have already seen the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the manic and the depressed states that I live in at any given moment. I almost feel obligated to apologize for it, but I won't -- this is who I am. I'd like to hope that someday I will find that middle ground, that place of peace and contentment that rests between two palm trees in a hammock on a beach. But just remember, if you come here and read some silly idiotic little post I've written, know I'm having a good day. And when there is a post which seems to be quite cryptic, say a little prayer for me, because I'm probably lost somewhere in my mind trying to find a way out.

my new theme song

Steer
Missy Higgins


Feel it falling off like clothing
Taste it rolling on your tongue
See the lights above you glowing
Oh and breathe them deep into your lungs

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been pulling at the strings playing puppeteer for kings
And you've had enough

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

So hold this feeling like a new born
Of freedom surging through your veins
You have opened up a new door
So bring on the wind, fire and rain

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been played at a game called remembering your name
And you stuffed it up

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

'Cos you've been listening for answers
But the city screams and all your dreams go unheard

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer
Yeah get out of the box and step into the clear
'Cos now you finally know you can steer

are you kidding me?

After a couple of weeks of not blogging I start feeling guilty. I feel as though I've let my readers down (Speaking of readers, I was amazed over the past couple of weeks how many people I know who actually read my blog. That's so cool.) and I try to come up with something really good to blog about . . . Just a second . . . I forgot what I was going to write about. Crap! What was it? I just looked back up there to the title of this post and still can't remember what I was considering was such a great blog idea that I started typing and then distracted myself with my own ego.

Ok, well anyway, it's been a hectic couple of weeks: (1) Trying to plan a sort of family reunion. (2) RL's started working out of town four days a week and is only home for 3-day weekends, which he'll be spending on work around the house and yard and occasionally on the cars. (3) My mind seems to have come up missing. (That's kind of a stupid figure of speech, don't you think? "Come up missing." Wouldn't it make more sense to say "gone out missing?" When something "comes up" it's usually right there. How could it be missing?) So there's a lot that's been going on and I catch myself thinking about when things will quiet down and I can start classes again.

I think I really just might be going crazy.

BTW, this isn't really at all what I wanted to blog, but never could remember what it was. :-S

cha cha cha

Today our Red Hats got together to learn some line dancing . . . I didn't learn much. :0)

guard my mouth

Tonight RL and I are going to a comedy club with some friends. I'm expecting it to be fun. I'm expecting we'll all have a good time. I'm expecting I won't have a chance to make a fool of myself or say or do something that I'll totally regret later.

Sometimes I lie in bed after being at some kind of gathering with friends or family or, worse, people I don't know very well at all and realize what a complete idiot I was. All the stupid things I said. All the times I tried too hard to be funny and fell on my face. All the times I interrupted someone and changed the subject and they had that look on their face that reflected how hurt they were, but they were better than me because they didn't need all the attention.

It's not quite as bad these days. I spent so many nights tossing and turning and torturing myself reliving nights as those that I determined not to be that way anymore. I was so determined I would rehearse not being that way in my head before going out. I would ask God not to let me make a fool of myself. I would remind myself when meeting a friend for lunch not to dominate the conversation. I've even been known to literally put my hand over my own mouth while speaking, because I knew something was about to fly out of it that shouldn't.

Sometimes it even works. Sometimes I get home and think, "That was fun. I had a good time." Then other times I lie in bed and something I said or did will pop into my head and I'll think, "What the crap?" Or I'll realize I said something to someone that could've been taken the wrong way and I'll pray they didn't. But I'll remember the look on their face when I said it and realize they probably did. And I'll hate myself and toss and turn and not be able sleep. If I do sleep, I'll wake up feeling pretty good about life and then remember what happened the night before and wish I could go back to sleep and forget.

But I'm excited about tonight and optimistic. We'll see........

half more

Today is April 28th. Each year on April 28th something extraordinary happens. April 28th is my half birthday. What? What's a half birthday? Oh come on, you know! Your Half Birthday. The day you turn whatever years old and a half.

Remember when you were a kid and you couldn't wait for your birthday, Remember how you would be so excited about getting to the next year you'd say, "I'm 4 and a half!" Or, "I'm 10 and a half." It gave us something to look forward to. It gave us something to feel proud about. And then when it was our real birthday, we felt as though we had really accomplished something.

I want to feel young. I want to have something to look forward to. So, today I'm celebrating my half birthday. I figure it's all about perspective. Why dread turning another year older? Why burden myself with feelings of doom and gloom when I can celebrate another year? And I'm half way there! WooHoo!!

Cheers!!

four more weeks

I think I'll be ready!

:o)

NOTE: 500 "Amazing Blogger" points awarded to the first person to give correct answer for x in the comments.

never give up

You know when you're in a marathon and you're running along thinking, "Wow! I just might actually finish this race!" And then all of a sudden, BAM! You "hit the wall." No? I haven't run a marathon, but I have hit the wall.

Last Thursday, while I was studying (like I do anything else -- sheesh!), I came across a problem that I could not figure out. It was so extremely frustrating, because I knew it was something I should already know. But I kept reading these same two paragraphs and I might as well have been reading Chinese; it made absolutely no sense!

To make matters worse, I started crying. Really. Big drops of tears were streaming down my face right onto the pages of the book I was trying to read. I began to frantically wipe my eyes, my face, my book all the while hoping the guys wouldn't notice. Yep. I was at work. I finally composed myself and was able to talk to the two guys on my crew about my frustrations and later I talked to RL and it was unanimous: I needed a break from studying.

For the next four days I didn't crack a book. Everytime I even thought about one of the problems or the exam I would quickly dismiss it and think about something else. I was determined to give myself a break and, dang it, I deserved it!

Yesterday I started back with a little reading and a little review. This morning I was back at it with enthusiasm. Then out of nowhere, BAM! Another wall. "CRAP!!! This is driving me crazy!" And I began to wonder if all this stress is even worth it. You know, I'm not going to get a pay raise or anything like that if I pass the exam. It's not really going to make any difference one way or another. I began to question why I was even putting myself through all of this -- aside from the non-refundable $125 examination fee.

Here's the deal: If I told you all I had decided not to take the exam it really wouldn't be that big of a deal to you, but it would be completely humiliating to me. But if I take the exam and fail, well at least I can say I tried. Because, let's face it, if I don't pass there is no way I'm going to put myself through all of this for another 6 months and take the exam over. I know myself too well. When it's over, it's over.

When you train for your first marathon they tell you not to worry about you time, just finish. So that's what I'm doing. At this point I'm not too concerned whether I pass or fail, I just want to make it to the finish line.

25 Things About Me

Recently I was tagged, along with just about everyone I know, on FB to write 25 things about myself. Well, since this will simultaneously be posted on FB and Blogger, all you lucky people will get to read this. Sadly, though, most of you who have been reading my blog long have already read this list, because I cheated and stole the first 25 from my 100 Things About Me. Anyway, here it is:

1) Christian
2) Married
3) Two children
4) Love my job
5) Five brothers, no sisters
6) Graduated High School in 1980
7) Started college in 1996 (and hopefully will be graduating in 2011)
8) All time favorite movie: Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken
9) All time favorite book: Forever Amber
10) Favorite sport to watch: Basketball
11) Favorite sport to play: Volleyball
12) Favorite food: Seafood/Italian
13) Favorite color: Olive Green
14) Born blonde
15) Terrible memory (some things)
16) Took piano lessons for 5 years when I was a child, but can't read music very well
17) Took guitar lessons when I was 40 (much easier than piano)
18) Laugh loud
19) Have a crooked smile
20) Pulling weeds relaxes me
21) Saw the ocean for the first time in 2005 (the Gulf doesn't count)
22) I love blue sky
23) Very romantic
24) Nutty
25) Passionate

There are rules to this I'm supposed to post, but I'm not going to. And I'm supposed to tag 25 people to do this, but I'm not gonna do that either. This is just my lame attempt to post something.

Have a great week!

hey look, i'm on tv!

Have you seen the Progressive commercials with the quirky perky salesgirl? I love those commercials. But this latest one makes me laugh every time, mainly, because it reminds me of me.



Have you seen yourself on tv lately?

friends (or a facebook commercial)

Yesterday I spent a lot of time on Facebook (it was a really slow day at work) searching for friends: people I knew in school, people from church, maybe even a couple of old boyfriends (like you've never done that!). One person I found (not an old boyfriend. Apparently they aren't on FB.) I clicked on their friends list and was surprised to read they "have no friends."

Now I don't really think this person has no friends. They may not have been on FB long and just haven't added any friends. But, still, it made me sad. It made me feel as though this person had a very lonely life or maybe they're one of those whose work makes them too busy.

My friends list, on the other hand, is growing. In the past 3 or 4 weeks I've been on FB I've added almost 40 friends. Some blogger friends too (*waving hand* Hi blogger friends). Now I know some on FB have over 300 friends. Whatever! Do you think you're fooling anyone? Are they really you're friends? Or did you just accept their friend request because you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings? Sure, I've got friends on my list who I haven't seen in over 20 years, but I would still consider them friends. And I don't accept just any friend request. I've ignored quite a few (sorry) who I had no clue who they were.

Accepting people as my friends is a very serious thing to me. (So serious I've devoted an entire blog post to it.) It's a really big deal to call someone my friend. Not because I'm a snob, but because I'm still kind of cautious who I let into my world -- even my virtual world.

There's quite a responsibility when you call someone your friend. Honestly, my timid insecure selfish self doesn't want that responsibility. My hermit self would rather just keep to herself and not ever go anywhere or talk to anyone. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort to call a friend on the phone just to say hello. Can you imagine me having to keep up with 40 friends? It's exhausting just thinking about it!!

Luckily, FB makes that easy. It's one of the reasons I like it so much. The other reason is it helps me get out of the comfort of my hibernation. I feel as though I'm, in a very small way, part of these people's lives and can maintain a connection with them until I see them again.

The person who has no friends? I sent them a friend request.

I haven't heard back from them yet.

say it with flair

On Facebook there are these cute little flair buttons to collect and send to friends. Yesterday I came across this one.

Um, ok. I didn't know that Christians, by saying 'Merry Christmas,' were hording all the joy for themselves. Wow, no wonder people get angry when someone says 'Merry Christmas.' They hear, "I'm a Christan and I've come to steal your joy!" That's horrible. This is just more proof that the true message of peace on earth (everyone on earth), good will to men (and women -- everyone) has not been well presented or people wouldn't have such an incorrect view of Christians.

When people say 'Happy Holidays' I don't think they are trying to take something away from me. I think of it more as a question, as in, "I don't know what holiday in particular you're celebrating, so I'll just wish you 'Happy Holidays.'" At which I respond, "Merry Christmas!"

who i am -- really?

I am the middle child, the third born, the only girl. But researching which of these pesonalities matches me, I found that being third fits best.

THIRD BORN
The second born picks on the third in the process of trying to pass on the feeling of inadequacy. Rather than feel inadequate, the third born feels vulnerable. He or she learns to think that anyone can get to him or her.

Characteristic Bad Feeling: Vulnerability
Strategies for survival: Being Strong, Attacking
Felt Loss: Protection
Sense of Justice: There is no justice, victims must be rescued
Thought Pattern: Comparison
T-shirt: "No problem, it doesn't bother me any"
Childhood Behavior: Rebellious
Emotional Expression:
Sympathy, Attack
Source of Anger: Putdowns
Nature of Humor: Putdowns
Means of Relating: Rescue
Spirituality: Devotional, Strength through prayer
Relational: Pleaser, Sensitive to others' wants/needs
The Child Within: Wounded
Type of Procrastination: Puts off tasks to pursue more interesting projects
Blind spot: Cooperation
Boundaries: None for self
A walk in the woods: Only goes in the woods to help others
Careers: Sales, Police Officer, Newspaper Reporter, Inventor, Poet, Animal Trainer, Child Care
Strengths: Compassion, Practicality, Creativity
Parenting: Protective, Nurturing
Marriage: Wants to please spouse and children
As Friend: Often has only one close friend.
Social Contributions: Inventions, Poetry, Inspiration
Expression of Love: Pleasing Others
Driving Style: Fearful or Fearless
Listening Style: Listens for what lies behind the words
Common Phrase: "No Problem"
Responds To: "Please"

What is your Birth Order?

things about me -- #101

All time favorite song:

Green Eyed Lady

by Sugarloaf

(Love the song, but the video is dumb.)

speaking of convenience stores

I would say I spend more time than the average person at convenience stores over the course of a day. (No, not that kind of convenience store! What kind of girl do you think I am? Never mind that . . . So to make sure there's no confusion, the store hereafter will be referred to as QT) And, let me tell you, there are some really interesting, strange, and dumb things that go on there. (I guess I should explain, to those of you who may not know, my work takes me outside. So I go to QT for coffee in the morning, potty breaks, lunch, potty breaks, etc.) Anyway, I've spent so much time at QT and seen and experienced so many things there, I've decided to share a few of them with you. Aren't you excited?

First and foremost, because I want you to know not all things that happen at QT are bad. No, actually, I met RL at the QT. Really? Really! Back in the days when he was a fresh college graduate, still looking for the right job, he worked at QT. One day I walked through the door and into his life forever.

But back to the strange . . .

At QT there's just about anything you could want for your morning drive into work. Breakfast burritos, egg & sausage buiscuts, and, of course, COFFEE. One morning, as I was standing in line to pay (there's always a line, because everyone and their dog goes to QT in the mornings), I was patiently waiting my turn when I noticed an older woman scanning the breakfast choices offered. She made up her mind, picked up her selection, and quickly slipped it into her coat pocket. As a nice cover to the petty theft, she stood in line to pay for her chocolate milk.

Then there are the people who rarely, if ever, actually enter the QT, because they are standing out front (usually near the pay phone) trying to run a scam. One, I watched from my own front row seat in the work truck, involved two young "stranded" females. They walked up to the pay phone, one picked up the receiver, and proceeded to act as though she was having a conversation. The other one scanned the parking lot for a victim. A woman walked passed them and they completely ignored her. Next a young man came walking towards them and the one woman elbowed the other on the phone. She immediately went into full damsel in distress mode. The other woman stopped the man and explained they had run out of gas and didn't have any money and could he just give them a couple of dollars. He did, walked away, and the two women had a good laugh behind his back as they spied their next victim.

Not all things that happen at QT are criminal. Some things are just a little weird. Like someone who randomly walks up to people and asks them if they can take a picture of their tatoo to show their daughter. Or people who actually let some stranger take a picture of their tatoo. The really weird thing was when the girl was asked if a picture could be taken of her tattoo she said, "The one on my neck?" Well, um, yeah. Cause that's the only one I can see and cause I'm not gonna ask you to drop your drawers so I can get a pic of the rose tatooed on your butt. Weirdo!!

little pixels of happiness

Cocotte (pronounced coquette as in: a woman who endeavors without sincere affection to gain the attention and admiration of men. I don't know if that describes her. Actually, she doesn't seem like that type of girl) over at Suburban Musings, was kind enough to honor me with two wonderful awards. (And sorry again, Cocotte, for not picking them up sooner.)

So in order for me to fulfill the requirements for receiving the Hooked on Your Blog award, I must list six things that make me happy right now, which should be fairly simple, 'cause I'm easy to please this early in the morning. (Stop it! I didn't mean it like that!!)

1. I woke up this morning. (Beats the alternative.)
2. Snuggling with my husband.
3. Down comforters
4. Hot coffee
5. Silence
6. My dog didn't pee on the floor in the middle of the night.

The Kreativ Blogger award is very humbling. Yeah, I know, it's just a bunch of colorful pixels that were copied and pasted in, but it means a lot to me. I'm not usually very good and receiving compliments, but when they come in such pretty packaging, who am I to refuse such a gift?!

I'm not too sure about the rules on passing on these awards, so I'm going to split them up. First, the Hooked on Your Blog award goes to Fade to Numb, because, well I'm hooked on his blog. Duh!! And the Kreativ Blogger award goes to the KOG, who, let's face it, makes the blog world go round with all her creative wordy girl ways.

what's your real age?

In a couple of weeks I'll be 46 years old. Really? Yep, 46!! But how old am I really? I mean, I don't feel old. Surely not almost 50! So you'd think there would be a way of figuring out you're real age. Some kind of formula: behavior - emotions / appearance = real age.

Turns out there's a website that can help you find your real age. No surprise the name is RealAge.com. But they use a little different formula. It takes a little while to get through all the questions, but once I did I received my real age. Are ready for this? I'm actually 45.8 years old. Really? Well, no, because when asked about my weekly exercise, I answered closer to my intentions than the number of days I actually do work out. *sigh*

So how old are you, really?

one lucky guy

I haven't really posted anything about our trip to Hawaii. Really, it was a great vacation, but what can I tell ya? We enjoyed the beach, the sun, the great weather, romantic evenings, and no kids!! It was paradise. But there is one part that really stands out.

The whole vacation was a result of a timeshare we purchased a few years ago. So, because this was at a different resort, we were supposed to check in with the sales office to tour the resort and get some free stuff and/or discounts on restaurants and such.

We had been on the beach all morning, stopped by the bar on the way to the sales office, and had, of course, a Mai-Tai. Have I ever mentioned that I really don't drink and have a very low tolerance to alcohol? Well, I don't and I do. By the time we made it to the sales office I was feeling really good. My nose starts to feel numb and I get this warm fuzzy feeling all over.

Anyway, we start talking to the salesman and I'm sitting there trying to be all attentive and business-like. But this guy is a salesman! Talks 90 miles a second and I'm starting to feel a little dizzy. So to pay closer attention, I start poppin off comments just as fast as they pop into my head. I don't remember a lot of what I said, but he was in stitches.

After RL explained I had a Mai-Tai, the salesman says, "One Mai-Tai?? You're one lucky man!"