Everyone knows who the title of this entry means. My first thought about the woman is I hope she dies soon. Hunger is not a pretty way to go. I'm sure she would want to die, given the choice. However, I don't think any of us would choose to go by starving, given a choice of another way.
Which brings me to my point. Why is it we allow criminals who are executed to go "easily" by lethal injection. We allow dogs to be put down when they no longer have a good quality of life. Yet when people are in the shape Ms. Schiavo is, she has no alternative but starving to death.
Would we take a man on death row, throw him in a cell and deprive him of food and water until he died? Too inhumane? Yet that's how we treat humans with no criminal past.
I worked many years in the hospice field as an office worker. I heard stories of many good hearted nurses who would give more morphine than recommended to a dying patient just to ease the suffering and let the person go on. I pray when my time comes, one of those angels will be caring for me and let me go too. Now I don't mean angels of death who go through hospitals killing people. Hospice patients are going to die with no intervention. But I don't want to see anyone die in pain when it can be prevented. Morphine dulls the pain. Enough morphine also stops the heart. There's a fine line between them. Some people straddle that line. Some people cross it when it's a choice of living a few more days in pain, or going now. That's humane, folks. Terri Schiavo would love to have a few morphine patches applied so she could ease on out of this world. And like any common criminal, she deserves better than she's getting. We all do.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Gardening and Pumping Gas
I've never had a green thumb. I think saying I have a black thumb would be putting it lightly. I think house plants go into deep depression when they see it's me buying them to bring home. However, despite all this, I have the best of intentions and keep trying to keep them alive. My mom brought by some Hosta for me to plant in the front flower bed, which is currently filled with weeds from the winter season. I decided I could dig all that up and plant these plants and then put down mulch. I took the doggie outside and attached his leash so he couldn't run away, and then proceeded to dig with the shovel, my hands, anything I could use. I got half of one bed done, and noticed I had a sore throat. I went inside to get a drink of water, and was wheezing so badly it was difficult to breathe. So a Benedryl later, I'm trying to figure out if it was the exertion or the weeds that made the asthma rear it's ugly head.
I carried all the gardening tools back to the garage, and called a lawn care man to come by and give me an estimate. I try to think of ways to help my husband save money since I'm not working and feel guilty sometimes about that. But I don't see any other way around this.
I am so frustrated by the front flower beds. We live in a townhouse so the yard is cared for, but they don't touch those beds. I've threatened to dig them out, pour concrete, and then put mulch over it. I'm not sure how our architectural committee would handle that, if they even found out.
My husband has allergies worse than mine, so I don't guess he's going to have any big ideas of doing the job, although all good Southern women know the man's domain is suppose to be to take care of the outside of the house, and the woman's the inside...Yes I know that's old fashioned and outdated. I guess I'm old-fashioned and outdated too! But laundry, cleaning and cooking I can handle. Gardening and pumping gas I think should be men's jobs!
I carried all the gardening tools back to the garage, and called a lawn care man to come by and give me an estimate. I try to think of ways to help my husband save money since I'm not working and feel guilty sometimes about that. But I don't see any other way around this.
I am so frustrated by the front flower beds. We live in a townhouse so the yard is cared for, but they don't touch those beds. I've threatened to dig them out, pour concrete, and then put mulch over it. I'm not sure how our architectural committee would handle that, if they even found out.
My husband has allergies worse than mine, so I don't guess he's going to have any big ideas of doing the job, although all good Southern women know the man's domain is suppose to be to take care of the outside of the house, and the woman's the inside...Yes I know that's old fashioned and outdated. I guess I'm old-fashioned and outdated too! But laundry, cleaning and cooking I can handle. Gardening and pumping gas I think should be men's jobs!
Monday, March 28, 2005
Spring has Sprung
My mom called me yesterday. She asked how "the husband" is and I told her he is fine. In fact, that today is our anniversary and we've been married two years. She paused and said, "You know what, he's never been to my house, has he?"
I said, "No..."
Then she said, "And you've only been here twice, once to sign the papers on the house and once to pick me up for the trip to Tunica."
"That's right."
Then she said she'd have to have us over for lunch sometime. I said we'd like that. She said well sometime when you'd like to come, call me. I said no, Mother, you pick any Saturday or Sunday that works for YOU, and we'll be there. She said, Well, she'd let us know.
I don't know if she ever will, but it's like suddenly today I don't feel invisible to my mother anymore.
So after that conversation, today was my visit to the counselor. I usually go in there and feel uncomfortable and don't know what to say, but today I had diarrhea of the mouth. I told her all of the things that bothered me. She was a very good listener, gave great feedback, and was very non-judgemental. She said I need to have patience, and instead of saying I don't have this or do this, say I don't YET do this or that. She also said things will change, if I'm patient with myself. We talked about defense mechanisms, how they are learned, and how we don't want to let go of them easily, like with me, withdrawing and putting up walls. She said it sounds like I can't depend on my family of origin for support. I said no, but I have a wonderfully supportive husband and I have a good relationship with my kids and they have a good relationship with each other. She said do you know how rare that is? You must have done something right. That made me feel better.
I have an awful lot to be grateful for. My family is sure a big blessing in my life. Today I feel hopeful that maybe I can learn to live a full, happy life if I stick it out with this counselor. I'm not going to put my hopes on my mother following through though. I think that's too much of a risk at this point. We'll see.
Still reading the Martha Beck book. I identify so much with her struggles on every page. She's a brave woman.
Tonight I'm meeting my husband to go out to eat at our favorite restaurant for our anniversary.
Then I'm coming home and take a bubble bath and go to bed early in my bed with clean sheets. (I just love sleeping on sheets the first day they're put on the bed fresh. I wash them every four or five days just so they can be crisp and nice to get into!)
Well, nothing else going on here. Just trying to be patient and looking forward to spring flowers.
I said, "No..."
Then she said, "And you've only been here twice, once to sign the papers on the house and once to pick me up for the trip to Tunica."
"That's right."
Then she said she'd have to have us over for lunch sometime. I said we'd like that. She said well sometime when you'd like to come, call me. I said no, Mother, you pick any Saturday or Sunday that works for YOU, and we'll be there. She said, Well, she'd let us know.
I don't know if she ever will, but it's like suddenly today I don't feel invisible to my mother anymore.
So after that conversation, today was my visit to the counselor. I usually go in there and feel uncomfortable and don't know what to say, but today I had diarrhea of the mouth. I told her all of the things that bothered me. She was a very good listener, gave great feedback, and was very non-judgemental. She said I need to have patience, and instead of saying I don't have this or do this, say I don't YET do this or that. She also said things will change, if I'm patient with myself. We talked about defense mechanisms, how they are learned, and how we don't want to let go of them easily, like with me, withdrawing and putting up walls. She said it sounds like I can't depend on my family of origin for support. I said no, but I have a wonderfully supportive husband and I have a good relationship with my kids and they have a good relationship with each other. She said do you know how rare that is? You must have done something right. That made me feel better.
I have an awful lot to be grateful for. My family is sure a big blessing in my life. Today I feel hopeful that maybe I can learn to live a full, happy life if I stick it out with this counselor. I'm not going to put my hopes on my mother following through though. I think that's too much of a risk at this point. We'll see.
Still reading the Martha Beck book. I identify so much with her struggles on every page. She's a brave woman.
Tonight I'm meeting my husband to go out to eat at our favorite restaurant for our anniversary.
Then I'm coming home and take a bubble bath and go to bed early in my bed with clean sheets. (I just love sleeping on sheets the first day they're put on the bed fresh. I wash them every four or five days just so they can be crisp and nice to get into!)
Well, nothing else going on here. Just trying to be patient and looking forward to spring flowers.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Where is God on Easter?
I'm reading a book by Martha Beck, the life coach who appears on Oprah a lot. She has this new book about called Leaving the Saints , about her decision to leave the Mormon church. She knows an awful lot about the church because her father is one of the head honcho apologists for the church, Hugh Nibley. I didn't read it for the Mormon part though, really, even though it is interesting to me, having been Mormon and left. I am reading it because I have such a strong interest in anyone finding their spirituality. She also had a search to find her spirituality, to find God, that she refers to as not a man with white hair, but as a force in the universe like gravity or magnetism. She had a near death experience in which God told her he was with her always and she just had to look "inside her heart." I sure wish I knew what that means.
I remember so many times, getting on my knees, alone, and crying to God about my problems, asking Him to show me He's there and show me He cares and tell me what to do!
I just feel like I'm "missing it" somewhere. So looking inside my heart may be part of it, if I could figure that part out. She also talks about "the truth setting us free" which is from the scriptures. Maybe being truthful about myself to myself will be part of my process. I'm working on that through journaling and counseling. I just wish I knew God was listening, was near.
I remember so many times, getting on my knees, alone, and crying to God about my problems, asking Him to show me He's there and show me He cares and tell me what to do!
I just feel like I'm "missing it" somewhere. So looking inside my heart may be part of it, if I could figure that part out. She also talks about "the truth setting us free" which is from the scriptures. Maybe being truthful about myself to myself will be part of my process. I'm working on that through journaling and counseling. I just wish I knew God was listening, was near.
Black and White and Gray Gray Gray
My husband and I were searching for movies to get on our Netflix . We decided to rent the first season of an HBO show that many of you may have seen, Carnivale . Well after a few shows, we're hooked. It's a very strange show. The characters are a bunch of what most of us would label as "misfits, freaks, etc." who travel with a carnival back during the 30's. They are the kind of people we would make snap judgements on if we saw them on the street (lizard man, bearded lady, strippers, etc.) but that's where the writers of this show have their fun. They make you question every part of your morality. What's right, what's wrong, who's evil, who's righteous, etc. I think this show tests those labels within each of us. Anyway, it's interesting enough to keep you wondering what will happen next, and also intriguing enough to make you think about it when the show is over. I give this one an A+ for creativitiy and insight. And just when you thought tv shows were senseless drivel that make us want to turn the set off but our minds are hardwired to sit there whether there's anything on or not......
Friday, March 25, 2005
No Tears in Heaven
I have a hard time crying. It's something that embarrasses me so much that I hide, choke it back, feel like an idiot. When I was growing up, my mom ridiculed us for crying. She had the attitude that if you can fix it, then fix it, if not, don't worry about it. So as a result I would hold back tears until I was about to explode and then have the "ugly cry", and she would make fun of me. Never once do I ever remember being held while I cried until my husband did that for me. The only two times he's ever seen me cry were when my son was facing life-threatening surgery and the time I found out I had to give a legal deposition. Both times I feel apart, and he held me and let me cry. I think he is good at this, from going through grief losing his first wife, and the grief support group where he learned to let his feelings out.
I wish I could do that more easily. I'm working on that.
The one big regret I have is I think I've passed on to my children the fear of crying. So now it's hard for them to show their true feelings. I used to think it made my mother so strong not to cry. I don't see it as strength anymore. True strength is feeling all the human emotions and letting the tears God gave to us flow when needed. It's very true that there is a "good cry" one that makes you feel so much better afterwards. I wish I had more of those.
I wish I could do that more easily. I'm working on that.
The one big regret I have is I think I've passed on to my children the fear of crying. So now it's hard for them to show their true feelings. I used to think it made my mother so strong not to cry. I don't see it as strength anymore. True strength is feeling all the human emotions and letting the tears God gave to us flow when needed. It's very true that there is a "good cry" one that makes you feel so much better afterwards. I wish I had more of those.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Where's the dinner?
I've decided I only really enjoy cooking when I haven't done it in awhile. When I do it every day, like most days, I grow to hate it, dread it, despise it, would rather give birth than cook. So instead of leaving my husband, who is our sole breadwinner, to bring home take out every night, I discovered "family dinner frozen entrees" and "quick throw-em-together" dinners. They save me from the kitchen at least a couple of nights a week. I discovered he LOVES Stouffers Chicken Enchiladas, a party size entree that always leaves enough leftovers for his lunch the next day. He also likes their lasagna, chicken lasagna, and something called Grandma's Chicken and Rice Bake. For my quickie meals, I've found two cans of canned ham, diced, mixed with two boxes of Velvetta Cheese Potatoes is a very "comfort food" type dinner. He'll even eat fish sticks with mac and cheese or corn dogs with tater tots if that's what I fix. On other days, I throw something in the crock pot.
He likes having dinner ready when he gets home, and he acts so very GRATEFUL for it, since he was a widower when I met him and lived on Taco Bell and Burger King. But if I decided not to cook, he'd not complain about bringing something home or taking me out. It's just that guilt I feel from not working, and not cooking, and not having kids at home to keep me from doing either that bugs me.
So for now, I cook dinner most nights. But he is eligible for retirement in twelve years, and if he does, I'm retiring from cooking too, and am going to hire a maid! Maybe the frozen entree selection will be even better by then. Or we will have "Jetson" type kitchens where we push a button and Rosie brings the dinner.
Which reminds me of a joke I heard. Husband comes home and finds wife lying on the couch. She tells him she's not feeling well at all, and hasn't got his dinner yet. To which he replies not to worry, he'll do the dinner. He goes to the kitchen and she hears him fumble around in there opening cabinets etc. He comes back into the living room and asks, "Honey, where do you keep the dinner?"
He likes having dinner ready when he gets home, and he acts so very GRATEFUL for it, since he was a widower when I met him and lived on Taco Bell and Burger King. But if I decided not to cook, he'd not complain about bringing something home or taking me out. It's just that guilt I feel from not working, and not cooking, and not having kids at home to keep me from doing either that bugs me.
So for now, I cook dinner most nights. But he is eligible for retirement in twelve years, and if he does, I'm retiring from cooking too, and am going to hire a maid! Maybe the frozen entree selection will be even better by then. Or we will have "Jetson" type kitchens where we push a button and Rosie brings the dinner.
Which reminds me of a joke I heard. Husband comes home and finds wife lying on the couch. She tells him she's not feeling well at all, and hasn't got his dinner yet. To which he replies not to worry, he'll do the dinner. He goes to the kitchen and she hears him fumble around in there opening cabinets etc. He comes back into the living room and asks, "Honey, where do you keep the dinner?"
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Another Saturday Night.....
I spent the last couple of days with my daughter, who had surgery for an ovarian cyst. I'm happy to report she's home and doing fine. Her husband took over caring for her and I came on home. She had never had surgery before (except tonsils and wisdom teeth) and was really scared. But, as I told her husband, I think I was more scared than she was. I hate for my kids to have anything done to them. I'd much rather do it for them so they wouldn't have to. Mothers hate to see their kids in pain and not be able to fix it.
My husband, son, and I went to a movie today to see The Ring Two. It was ok but not as good as the first one. My son is a big horror movie fan, and although I'm not, I enjoy doing something with him. He's the last one at home, since he's still in college. My doctor reminded me lately that "soon I'll have the empty nest" and I told him I had it once before when all three of them were out on their own, until the middle one came back to finish school closer to home, to save expenses. I also told him I don't like having an empty nest. I am happy to see my kids having happy, productive lives of their own, but I miss them terribly. I miss hearing about how their day went, how their job is going, what they have been doing. But I swore I'd never be one of those "you never call me" mothers. Kids have enough to deal with without extra maternal guilt piled on.
It's not like I don't have a life. I have interests I could pursue if I could get motivated enough to do them. But I've decided it's okay to have days when I don't get a lot accomplished. When I just have time to do whatever strikes me at the moment, even if it means spending a lot of the day playing bingo on the computer or watching tv. I've spent my whole life living on other people's schedules, driving to appointments, or going to a job. So now I'm sort of drifting. But that's not a bad thing. Sometimes the quiet is good to help us learn about ourselves. At least, it seems to suit me for now. I have no big goals for the immediate future. But that also means I have no deadlines, no pressure, no possibility for failure. Am I taking the lazy way out? Maybe. But for now, I like it fine.
My husband, son, and I went to a movie today to see The Ring Two. It was ok but not as good as the first one. My son is a big horror movie fan, and although I'm not, I enjoy doing something with him. He's the last one at home, since he's still in college. My doctor reminded me lately that "soon I'll have the empty nest" and I told him I had it once before when all three of them were out on their own, until the middle one came back to finish school closer to home, to save expenses. I also told him I don't like having an empty nest. I am happy to see my kids having happy, productive lives of their own, but I miss them terribly. I miss hearing about how their day went, how their job is going, what they have been doing. But I swore I'd never be one of those "you never call me" mothers. Kids have enough to deal with without extra maternal guilt piled on.
It's not like I don't have a life. I have interests I could pursue if I could get motivated enough to do them. But I've decided it's okay to have days when I don't get a lot accomplished. When I just have time to do whatever strikes me at the moment, even if it means spending a lot of the day playing bingo on the computer or watching tv. I've spent my whole life living on other people's schedules, driving to appointments, or going to a job. So now I'm sort of drifting. But that's not a bad thing. Sometimes the quiet is good to help us learn about ourselves. At least, it seems to suit me for now. I have no big goals for the immediate future. But that also means I have no deadlines, no pressure, no possibility for failure. Am I taking the lazy way out? Maybe. But for now, I like it fine.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Opening the Vent
Years ago, I saw a doctor when I was in the hospital for depression. (my one and only time) Just being hospitalized for it scared me into realizing I couldn't ignore anymore the way I was feeling, and I had to make some positive changes to survive. My daughter helped me tremendously, and although I felt like a total burden to her during the time right after, if I hadn't had her help, I don't think I would have made it through it. She helped me financially, helped me to realize that even though the job I had was paying the bills, I was paying a huge price emotionally for staying there, so I closed the business and totally changed careers that was "beneath my education" according to some people, but I thought absolutely suited what I needed at the time.
Anyway, back to "I saw this doctor when I was in the hospital" and he asked me this question, just out of the blue, nothing leading up to it: "Who are you angry at?" To which I hemmed and hawwed and after a long pause of being totally blank, I finally said, "Myself I guess." To which he replied, "That's the wrong answer." Of course, he never told me what the right one was.
Well this past week, the counselor asked me who I get angry at. I said I've gotten angry at the nurse at the hospital who wasn't taking care of my son. I've gotten mad at my ex when he's upset the kids. She said that is getting mad for your children. When have you gotten mad for yourself? Well I couldn't think of anything. So I sat there again with this dumb look not knowing what to say.
Through the years, I've learned from reading the another definition of depression is anger turned inward. I don't know what I think about that in my case, but I do realize that I was raised in a good family who just never showed emotion. No one got really angry, or cried, or got really frustrated. And no one got depressed. When other people say they "need to vent" I'm not sure I've ever done that. I've cried on my husband's shoulder when I was worried about my son's surgery, or when I found out I had to do a legal deposition in a case I was a witness in by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But anger?
So this blog entry is to help me get at some of the things that make me angry. No pet peeves. I mean beyond that, realllllly p#ssed.
I'm mad at my mother for taking sides with my sister and allowing this break in our family.
I'm mad at my sister for not loving me unconditionally because I made mistakes and God knows she and her children are so perfect!
I'm mad at my first ex for having an affair with some bimbo in the PTA and keeping it from me for a year while it happened and humiliating me in front of everyone at the school and in the neighborhood who knew when I didn't. I'm mad at him for every mean thing he ever said to me when we were married, like I was "too ignorant to do this or that" and how he'd "rather play with himself than sleep with me." I'm mad at every man I ever allowed in my life to use me. I'm mad at ex number two for being alive and for taking advantage of my low self esteem to worm his way into what he saw as the gravy train. (I stopped the train and threw him off three weeks later when I realized what I had done.) I'm mad at ex number three and four (they were the same guy) for manipulating me with things he knew I had never had or with things he knew we desperately needed so I wouldn't see him for the controlling, abusive, mean person he was and cut him out of my life before wasting so much time on his butt.
I'm mad at ex boyfriends for saying things like "You may be smart when it comes to books, but when it comes to relationships, you're dumb as a post" and "I'm sorry but in this relationship, you don't bring enough to the table." I'm mad at all the "I'll always love you and be true to you and never lie to you" that were bullsh*t. I'm mad at the landlord I had when my daughter was just home from the hospital who knocked on my door because a dog had gotten into the garbage and said it had to be picked up now and couldn't wait an hour for my husband to get home, even though I'd just had a c-section and was home alone with a premature baby. I'm mad at the woman my ex brought home one time from a party (and him for letting her into our house) I wouldn't go to because I was "in my shell" and she was drunk and staggered into my living room and said, "Honey we need to talk about why you don't want to go anywhere. Do you think you're pretty? Well, you're not. But you should get out more anyway" while falling over my furniture. I'm mad at my ex for having a vasectomy I was against because he "was finished" and not caring what I thought. I'm mad at the idiot doctor who let my son almost die before admitting he was imcompentant to handle his problem. I'm mad at my mother for allowing herself to be used by my sister. I'm mad at my father for the way he looks down on women and talks to women, and thinks women are brainless idiots only good for cooking and cleaning. I'm mad at my father for treating my mother like a slug and then being the "poor pitiful man" who's wife left him for his best friend. I'm mad at my step mother for always treating me badly and making fun of me when I was little and for every time she talked hateful to me when he wasn't around. I'm mad at her for making such a huge difference in me and my children and her children and grandchildren at Christmas. I'm mad at my dad for letting her. I'm mad at my boss for being so whipped he let his wife move in and take over a business she knew nothing about and run over everyone so badly I couldn't stand to be in the office with her and her loud mouth. I'm mad at my friend Rachel for not talking to me about her plans and then committing suicide at thirty years of age. I'm mad at God because if he is all powerful and loves me so much why couldn't he just send me some little sign that he loves me and I'm not alone in all this and that he loves me in spite of myself.
Sorry if you've had to sit through reading this, but I think I learned today how to vent. Right now, I feel like a kettle who's boiled over and can't seem to cool down. But I guess it's a start.
Anyway, back to "I saw this doctor when I was in the hospital" and he asked me this question, just out of the blue, nothing leading up to it: "Who are you angry at?" To which I hemmed and hawwed and after a long pause of being totally blank, I finally said, "Myself I guess." To which he replied, "That's the wrong answer." Of course, he never told me what the right one was.
Well this past week, the counselor asked me who I get angry at. I said I've gotten angry at the nurse at the hospital who wasn't taking care of my son. I've gotten mad at my ex when he's upset the kids. She said that is getting mad for your children. When have you gotten mad for yourself? Well I couldn't think of anything. So I sat there again with this dumb look not knowing what to say.
Through the years, I've learned from reading the another definition of depression is anger turned inward. I don't know what I think about that in my case, but I do realize that I was raised in a good family who just never showed emotion. No one got really angry, or cried, or got really frustrated. And no one got depressed. When other people say they "need to vent" I'm not sure I've ever done that. I've cried on my husband's shoulder when I was worried about my son's surgery, or when I found out I had to do a legal deposition in a case I was a witness in by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But anger?
So this blog entry is to help me get at some of the things that make me angry. No pet peeves. I mean beyond that, realllllly p#ssed.
I'm mad at my mother for taking sides with my sister and allowing this break in our family.
I'm mad at my sister for not loving me unconditionally because I made mistakes and God knows she and her children are so perfect!
I'm mad at my first ex for having an affair with some bimbo in the PTA and keeping it from me for a year while it happened and humiliating me in front of everyone at the school and in the neighborhood who knew when I didn't. I'm mad at him for every mean thing he ever said to me when we were married, like I was "too ignorant to do this or that" and how he'd "rather play with himself than sleep with me." I'm mad at every man I ever allowed in my life to use me. I'm mad at ex number two for being alive and for taking advantage of my low self esteem to worm his way into what he saw as the gravy train. (I stopped the train and threw him off three weeks later when I realized what I had done.) I'm mad at ex number three and four (they were the same guy) for manipulating me with things he knew I had never had or with things he knew we desperately needed so I wouldn't see him for the controlling, abusive, mean person he was and cut him out of my life before wasting so much time on his butt.
I'm mad at ex boyfriends for saying things like "You may be smart when it comes to books, but when it comes to relationships, you're dumb as a post" and "I'm sorry but in this relationship, you don't bring enough to the table." I'm mad at all the "I'll always love you and be true to you and never lie to you" that were bullsh*t. I'm mad at the landlord I had when my daughter was just home from the hospital who knocked on my door because a dog had gotten into the garbage and said it had to be picked up now and couldn't wait an hour for my husband to get home, even though I'd just had a c-section and was home alone with a premature baby. I'm mad at the woman my ex brought home one time from a party (and him for letting her into our house) I wouldn't go to because I was "in my shell" and she was drunk and staggered into my living room and said, "Honey we need to talk about why you don't want to go anywhere. Do you think you're pretty? Well, you're not. But you should get out more anyway" while falling over my furniture. I'm mad at my ex for having a vasectomy I was against because he "was finished" and not caring what I thought. I'm mad at the idiot doctor who let my son almost die before admitting he was imcompentant to handle his problem. I'm mad at my mother for allowing herself to be used by my sister. I'm mad at my father for the way he looks down on women and talks to women, and thinks women are brainless idiots only good for cooking and cleaning. I'm mad at my father for treating my mother like a slug and then being the "poor pitiful man" who's wife left him for his best friend. I'm mad at my step mother for always treating me badly and making fun of me when I was little and for every time she talked hateful to me when he wasn't around. I'm mad at her for making such a huge difference in me and my children and her children and grandchildren at Christmas. I'm mad at my dad for letting her. I'm mad at my boss for being so whipped he let his wife move in and take over a business she knew nothing about and run over everyone so badly I couldn't stand to be in the office with her and her loud mouth. I'm mad at my friend Rachel for not talking to me about her plans and then committing suicide at thirty years of age. I'm mad at God because if he is all powerful and loves me so much why couldn't he just send me some little sign that he loves me and I'm not alone in all this and that he loves me in spite of myself.
Sorry if you've had to sit through reading this, but I think I learned today how to vent. Right now, I feel like a kettle who's boiled over and can't seem to cool down. But I guess it's a start.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Normal is just a setting on the washing machine.
The doctor put me on a new antidepressant a couple of weeks ago, because he and the counselor both agreed that I was "so obviously depressed." I don't really seem to recognize the symptoms of depression in myself. I can tell when I am improving though. For one thing, I bought hair color and crest whitestrips at WalMart. I haven't colored my hair in awhile and the gray is really showing. I hadn't really cared. I'm also getting dressed every morning and combing my hair. I hate to say it but before the medicine I was staying in my robe many days, and didn't even think about my hair unless I had to go out, which I avoided at all costs. So I think taking an interest in my appearance is a sign that the depression is better.
For another thing, I get up in the morning and get antsy if I sit too long, so I've been getting more done around the house. Before the medicine, I'd look at the house, do what I absolutely had to, and sit back down most of the day. So feeling like cleaning is another sign.
The third thing I notice is I'm not sleeping as much. I hardly ever take naps anymore, and they used to be a daily thing. I could have stayed in the bed all day and that would have suited me fine before the medicine.
Fourth thing is I don't seem to be brooding as much. When I am depressed I seem to dwell on everything bad in my life and how lousy I've handled it, etc. Today I felt like, hey it's not perfect but I haven't done too badly overall. So my "perception" has changed.
Fifth thing, my husband says I'm not as quiet. This is something he notices, but I don't. He says when I'm depressed, I don't talk at all, unless he asks me something. He says now, I actually have conversations and not just the ones I force myself to have when someone calls I'm trying to bluff about how I'm really feeling.
So even though I don't really notice when I'm depressed when I'm IN IT, I do notice when I'm doing better. However, it makes me feel like I'm screwed up somehow to need to take medicine to feel normal. The doctor explains its a chemical problem with me, and the pills give me what I need, but I always feel like a nut case to say I need antidepressants.
For another thing, I get up in the morning and get antsy if I sit too long, so I've been getting more done around the house. Before the medicine, I'd look at the house, do what I absolutely had to, and sit back down most of the day. So feeling like cleaning is another sign.
The third thing I notice is I'm not sleeping as much. I hardly ever take naps anymore, and they used to be a daily thing. I could have stayed in the bed all day and that would have suited me fine before the medicine.
Fourth thing is I don't seem to be brooding as much. When I am depressed I seem to dwell on everything bad in my life and how lousy I've handled it, etc. Today I felt like, hey it's not perfect but I haven't done too badly overall. So my "perception" has changed.
Fifth thing, my husband says I'm not as quiet. This is something he notices, but I don't. He says when I'm depressed, I don't talk at all, unless he asks me something. He says now, I actually have conversations and not just the ones I force myself to have when someone calls I'm trying to bluff about how I'm really feeling.
So even though I don't really notice when I'm depressed when I'm IN IT, I do notice when I'm doing better. However, it makes me feel like I'm screwed up somehow to need to take medicine to feel normal. The doctor explains its a chemical problem with me, and the pills give me what I need, but I always feel like a nut case to say I need antidepressants.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Chiropractors
My husband has been complaining with his neck and back hurting for a week now. He's really been miserable. He went to our family doctor who didn't x-ray or examine him, just wrote a Rx for pain pills, which help until they wear off and the pain comes back. So I recommended he see a chiropractor. I don't know what it is about chiropractors but they seem to have a bad rep. People either think they are quacks (especially other doctors) or they swear by the good they do.
Well I used to be in the first group, until I got down in my back once so bad I couldn't sit, stand, or lie down without hurting. A friend recommended a chiropractor, and at the time, if she's given me the name of a good hooker who could have massaged it away, I'd have paid her money. I was that bad off. So I went, and he fixed it, and the pain left, and after that, although I don't really understand the training they have or why they have such a bad rep with the medical community, I swear they help.
So my husband reluctantly agreed to go. The guy did two x-rays and a thorough exam and an adjustment to my husband's neck, bone popping and all. We're back home now and my husband has an ice pack on his neck and is raving over how much better he feels.
So even though I don't understand exactly what the big deal is with chiropractors, they have another supporter from our family.
Well I used to be in the first group, until I got down in my back once so bad I couldn't sit, stand, or lie down without hurting. A friend recommended a chiropractor, and at the time, if she's given me the name of a good hooker who could have massaged it away, I'd have paid her money. I was that bad off. So I went, and he fixed it, and the pain left, and after that, although I don't really understand the training they have or why they have such a bad rep with the medical community, I swear they help.
So my husband reluctantly agreed to go. The guy did two x-rays and a thorough exam and an adjustment to my husband's neck, bone popping and all. We're back home now and my husband has an ice pack on his neck and is raving over how much better he feels.
So even though I don't understand exactly what the big deal is with chiropractors, they have another supporter from our family.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Super Cats Rule!
I admit I'm not a cat person. I am allergic to the little critters. However, this doesn't keep me from being fascinated by them. My daughter has four of them, so instead of grandchildren, I have grandkitties. I am happy to report as a proud grandma that they are happy cats and fat as basketballs. (Good appetites!) My daughter says when she vacuums, she picks up enough cat hair to make another cat!
But today's cat blog, comes inspired from a different source. As I was reading my weird news reports today on AOL, I came across breaking news of the feline sort.
Cat Survives Ten Mile Trip on Top of Car!
Cat Shoots Owner!
Which goes to show you, Cats Have Attitude!
But today's cat blog, comes inspired from a different source. As I was reading my weird news reports today on AOL, I came across breaking news of the feline sort.
Cat Survives Ten Mile Trip on Top of Car!
Cat Shoots Owner!
Which goes to show you, Cats Have Attitude!
Thursday, March 10, 2005
That Uh-Oh Feeling
My daughter posted the following on her blog today. I would like to comment further at the end of it.
" My husband went to play basketball tonight, so I decided to go to the mall to window shop. I was browsing in the women's clothing section at Sears, and kept noticing an older man (in his sixties?) out of the corner of my eye every time I walked down an aisle. I walked over to look at some dresses, and when I glanced up I saw him coming towards me. He said "excuse me, but your hair is just so beautiful." I said "thank you" and turned to walk away. People have commented about my hair before, especially Chinese people who seem to be fascinated with it because it's blonde.
Then he pulled out a Guidepost magazine and asked me if I'd like to have a copy to read and handed it to me. I thought maybe he was some sort of missionary. He went on about how Guidepost had been around for 60 years, and how he used to read his mother's copy back in 1945. He said whenever he came to the mall alone, which was often, that he liked to sit in the food court and read Guidepost and "would just have the best time." I told him thanks, that I would read it. Now I thought he was just a lonely old man who wanted someone to talk to.
But then he started talking about my hair again. He said "I just love your hair. It's such a pretty color and it's so straight. I just love it when women part their hair on the side like that." This creeped me out, and I started backing away from him.
He asked me what my first name was and said "I could just fall in love with you." This completely freaked me out. I said "I'm sure my husband wouldn't like that." His expression changed, and he asked "is he here?" I said "YES". Then he said "it was so nice to meet you" and walked away! I watched him leave the store, then booked it out the door to my car with keys and pepper spray in hand.
Maybe I'm paranoid and he was just a lonely old man who thought I would be nice to talk to. Or maybe my intuition was right and he was the next BTK Killer! Either way, it really rattled me, and I don't think I'll ever go to the mall by myself again at night."
COMMENT: As her mom, of course this freaked me out. As a woman, I realize that sometimes we are all too trusting. I mean, if someone who looked like Ted Bundy came up and said he had car trouble and asked if we would jump off his car, and we had jumper cables, would we follow him back to the parking lot? If a guy walked up to our car and knocked on the window in a parking lot, would we roll the window down? If someone knocked on our front door and we didn't know him, would we open it to see who he was? I'm not sure I could answer no to any of these questions, which proves I am probably way too trusting. However, do we go to the other extreme and become so paranoid that we are afraid to talk to anyone? I believe the key lies in something I saw on the Montel show this morning. He stated that every woman seems to have this "inside voice", call it intuition, sixth sense, whatever, that gives her little warning bells and that 99% of the time, its RIGHT. But as women, we ignore that voice with reasons why its probably ok, or we're probably overreacting, or whatever. LADIES, listen to that voice. God gave it to you for a reason. If something doesn't feel quite right, then GET OUT OF THERE. Don't worry about what anyone thinks, don't worry about whether you're crying wolf. It's better to be safe than sorry. I'm glad my daughter kept her head, and I'm glad he ran away. But we can all take a lesson from her. Listen to that UH OH inside.
" My husband went to play basketball tonight, so I decided to go to the mall to window shop. I was browsing in the women's clothing section at Sears, and kept noticing an older man (in his sixties?) out of the corner of my eye every time I walked down an aisle. I walked over to look at some dresses, and when I glanced up I saw him coming towards me. He said "excuse me, but your hair is just so beautiful." I said "thank you" and turned to walk away. People have commented about my hair before, especially Chinese people who seem to be fascinated with it because it's blonde.
Then he pulled out a Guidepost magazine and asked me if I'd like to have a copy to read and handed it to me. I thought maybe he was some sort of missionary. He went on about how Guidepost had been around for 60 years, and how he used to read his mother's copy back in 1945. He said whenever he came to the mall alone, which was often, that he liked to sit in the food court and read Guidepost and "would just have the best time." I told him thanks, that I would read it. Now I thought he was just a lonely old man who wanted someone to talk to.
But then he started talking about my hair again. He said "I just love your hair. It's such a pretty color and it's so straight. I just love it when women part their hair on the side like that." This creeped me out, and I started backing away from him.
He asked me what my first name was and said "I could just fall in love with you." This completely freaked me out. I said "I'm sure my husband wouldn't like that." His expression changed, and he asked "is he here?" I said "YES". Then he said "it was so nice to meet you" and walked away! I watched him leave the store, then booked it out the door to my car with keys and pepper spray in hand.
Maybe I'm paranoid and he was just a lonely old man who thought I would be nice to talk to. Or maybe my intuition was right and he was the next BTK Killer! Either way, it really rattled me, and I don't think I'll ever go to the mall by myself again at night."
COMMENT: As her mom, of course this freaked me out. As a woman, I realize that sometimes we are all too trusting. I mean, if someone who looked like Ted Bundy came up and said he had car trouble and asked if we would jump off his car, and we had jumper cables, would we follow him back to the parking lot? If a guy walked up to our car and knocked on the window in a parking lot, would we roll the window down? If someone knocked on our front door and we didn't know him, would we open it to see who he was? I'm not sure I could answer no to any of these questions, which proves I am probably way too trusting. However, do we go to the other extreme and become so paranoid that we are afraid to talk to anyone? I believe the key lies in something I saw on the Montel show this morning. He stated that every woman seems to have this "inside voice", call it intuition, sixth sense, whatever, that gives her little warning bells and that 99% of the time, its RIGHT. But as women, we ignore that voice with reasons why its probably ok, or we're probably overreacting, or whatever. LADIES, listen to that voice. God gave it to you for a reason. If something doesn't feel quite right, then GET OUT OF THERE. Don't worry about what anyone thinks, don't worry about whether you're crying wolf. It's better to be safe than sorry. I'm glad my daughter kept her head, and I'm glad he ran away. But we can all take a lesson from her. Listen to that UH OH inside.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Love and Forgiveness
My daughter called me yesterday to tell me a relative of her husband's did something wrong many years ago, and the truth just came out. He has admitted his mistake and come clean with his family. People think the hard part for him is just beginning, but it's not. He's had to live with this all these years, keep a part of himself from the people he has loved, and wonder if they could still love and accept him if it came out. Now he has to face public scrutiny and the embarrassment that entails, and that's horrible I'm sure. But what will be harder is the self-degradation he will put himself through amd has put himself through all these years. I told my daughter they have to love him and support him, because they are family and that's what families are for. And not to judge him or question him about it because there is nothing they can say to make him feel worse than he must already feel.
Then today I started thinking about it. I have punished myself for years for mistakes that I have made in my past, mistakes that were not illegal, not major compared to a lot of things, but they were major to me. Like not being there for my kids when they needed me, and for putting my "social life" above their needs, for letting them know my anger toward their father and the details of the ongoing battle our divorce caused (Did I alienate them from their father or did he do that to himself?). Also, I have put myself in relationships with men where I was not valued, if anything I received more emotional abuse than anything else. Because of my mistakes, my family of origin wants nothing to do with me. I worry about every problem one of my kids makes and if I somehow caused it. (Part of this comes from my sister who assured me that my decision to divorce their dad would screw them up somehow). So everytime one of them gets fired from a job, or gets a speeding ticket, or thumbs their nose at Christianity, I put myself through all these self-recriminations.
Well, after talking to my daughter about her relative, I realize that I can't change what has happened in the past. I worry what people (her husband for one) must think of me for the mother I was. I worry about whether my kids can ever forgive me for the mistakes I made. And I breathe a sigh of relief everytime I examine their lives and they seem healthy and happy because maybe I didn't screw them up too badly. I guess this is just part of being human and being a mother.
After years of counseling, I have some understanding of where I was in my life when all this happened, how I was a co-dependent woman with no self-esteem who looked to others for my self-worth, and thought I had to have a man tell me I was ok to be ok. I realize all that. But all these years I have not forgiven myself for the mistakes I've made. I am reminded of them when I don't get invited to my sister's for Christmas and for other family things. And I remind myself of it all the time with tapes I play in my head.
I've asked God to forgive me, and although in my head I believe He has, in my heart I don't feel forgiven. I think this comes from not letting go of it, not allowing myself to be human. I think it's time I stopped beating myself for things I cannot change, and leave the past in the past, make amends to those I can, and move forward. I know I'll never be happy unless I do.
Then today I started thinking about it. I have punished myself for years for mistakes that I have made in my past, mistakes that were not illegal, not major compared to a lot of things, but they were major to me. Like not being there for my kids when they needed me, and for putting my "social life" above their needs, for letting them know my anger toward their father and the details of the ongoing battle our divorce caused (Did I alienate them from their father or did he do that to himself?). Also, I have put myself in relationships with men where I was not valued, if anything I received more emotional abuse than anything else. Because of my mistakes, my family of origin wants nothing to do with me. I worry about every problem one of my kids makes and if I somehow caused it. (Part of this comes from my sister who assured me that my decision to divorce their dad would screw them up somehow). So everytime one of them gets fired from a job, or gets a speeding ticket, or thumbs their nose at Christianity, I put myself through all these self-recriminations.
Well, after talking to my daughter about her relative, I realize that I can't change what has happened in the past. I worry what people (her husband for one) must think of me for the mother I was. I worry about whether my kids can ever forgive me for the mistakes I made. And I breathe a sigh of relief everytime I examine their lives and they seem healthy and happy because maybe I didn't screw them up too badly. I guess this is just part of being human and being a mother.
After years of counseling, I have some understanding of where I was in my life when all this happened, how I was a co-dependent woman with no self-esteem who looked to others for my self-worth, and thought I had to have a man tell me I was ok to be ok. I realize all that. But all these years I have not forgiven myself for the mistakes I've made. I am reminded of them when I don't get invited to my sister's for Christmas and for other family things. And I remind myself of it all the time with tapes I play in my head.
I've asked God to forgive me, and although in my head I believe He has, in my heart I don't feel forgiven. I think this comes from not letting go of it, not allowing myself to be human. I think it's time I stopped beating myself for things I cannot change, and leave the past in the past, make amends to those I can, and move forward. I know I'll never be happy unless I do.
Down to the Wire
I received an email from the publisher yesterday of the anthology of short stories where mine was being considered. She enclosed a contract for me to sign and return to her. I'm one of fifty finalists and the book will feature thirty stories, but they get signed contracts from everyone who is in the running. So now I wait. It probably won't be decided until closer to August, at least that's what the contract said. So I'm just going to try to put it out of my mind until then and see.
I guess I just won't even take myself seriously as a writer until I actually get something published. Then that will give me the momentum to continue submitting.
I write because I enjoy it. I write about things I know, or dream. I've always gotten that advice from writing magazines, that you should write about things you know.
Still I'm hopeful and apprehensive at the same time over this story. If I win, I get $200 and a copy of the book. Of course, if I'm published I'll probably spend the $200 buying copies of the book from the local bookstore.
I go now to Books-A-Million and see copies of the last anthology on the shelf that I was a finalist in, but didn't get selected. That's hard. But waiting for this decision is harder.
I guess I just won't even take myself seriously as a writer until I actually get something published. Then that will give me the momentum to continue submitting.
I write because I enjoy it. I write about things I know, or dream. I've always gotten that advice from writing magazines, that you should write about things you know.
Still I'm hopeful and apprehensive at the same time over this story. If I win, I get $200 and a copy of the book. Of course, if I'm published I'll probably spend the $200 buying copies of the book from the local bookstore.
I go now to Books-A-Million and see copies of the last anthology on the shelf that I was a finalist in, but didn't get selected. That's hard. But waiting for this decision is harder.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Tall Tall Trees
When I was little, I used to "think of a dream" before I went to sleep. (Still do sometimes). I would think of something that would really make me happy, or a good memory, and think about that until I went to sleep.
One dream I've had for a long time was to see the Sequoia trees in California. From the first time I saw these gentle giants in pictures, I've been fascinated by them. My dream always included standing underneath one and looking up toward the sky at the sheer magnitude of this huge tree, how it had survived for thousands of years, despite very shallow roots (usually less than five feet deep but spread out for miles). The trees stand because they wrap their roots around other trees in the same area, so they support each other! (Like we all should)
Well I shared my "Tree Dream" with my husband before we married, so in 2003, we made a trip to California to see my trees. We flew to Fresno, went to Sequoia National Park and Yosemite, then drove to see the Grand Canyon, Vegas, Meteor Crater, the Petrified Forest, and stopped in Phoenix to see his mom. Then we drove to Nogales Mexico to do some shopping, and flew back home from Phoenix. I kept a journal of the entire trip.
Most of the time dreams, when they come true, are not quite what we imagine. However, this dream was even better. We walked through the groves of these trees, I got to stand under them, INSIDE their trunks, on top of one that had fallen. But my best memory was sitting on a park bench in the center of a grove of Sequoias, with no sound but the forest animals and birds. It was amazing.
Nights when I can't sleep, like tonight, I try not to think about things that worry me, or bother me, but instead think of good thoughts. Seeing those trees was a dream come true, fulfilled one of those "have to do it before I die" goals. I don't think I could ever come up with another one to top it.
One dream I've had for a long time was to see the Sequoia trees in California. From the first time I saw these gentle giants in pictures, I've been fascinated by them. My dream always included standing underneath one and looking up toward the sky at the sheer magnitude of this huge tree, how it had survived for thousands of years, despite very shallow roots (usually less than five feet deep but spread out for miles). The trees stand because they wrap their roots around other trees in the same area, so they support each other! (Like we all should)
Well I shared my "Tree Dream" with my husband before we married, so in 2003, we made a trip to California to see my trees. We flew to Fresno, went to Sequoia National Park and Yosemite, then drove to see the Grand Canyon, Vegas, Meteor Crater, the Petrified Forest, and stopped in Phoenix to see his mom. Then we drove to Nogales Mexico to do some shopping, and flew back home from Phoenix. I kept a journal of the entire trip.
Most of the time dreams, when they come true, are not quite what we imagine. However, this dream was even better. We walked through the groves of these trees, I got to stand under them, INSIDE their trunks, on top of one that had fallen. But my best memory was sitting on a park bench in the center of a grove of Sequoias, with no sound but the forest animals and birds. It was amazing.
Nights when I can't sleep, like tonight, I try not to think about things that worry me, or bother me, but instead think of good thoughts. Seeing those trees was a dream come true, fulfilled one of those "have to do it before I die" goals. I don't think I could ever come up with another one to top it.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Go, ...Don't Go, ...Go, ...Don't Go....
One of the secretaries from the place where I used to work called me yesterday. I haven't worked there in over a year, and it seems the Access database I built, she had managed to mess up somehow and couldn't get it to merge her documents.
When I left that job last year, I felt like I was not being valued for the responsibility I had, or being paid what I was worth. They ran an ad to replace me and hired another lady who they bragged on during my notice about how much she knew about computers.
So when the secretary called me, I asked if the "new secretary" couldn't fix it. She said no because she has never done anything with Access, only Excel.
Well I had very mixed feelings about this situation. On one hand, I felt like at least they realize I had some value and they NEED me to fix it. On the other hand, I owe them nothing, as they sure didn't appreciate me when I was there, why should they yell now?
I didn't quite know what to do. I told her I would try to come by there today. I asked my husband what he thought, and he predictably said to tell them to stick it. ha.
Anyway, I finally decided since I had given my word I'm come by there, I should go, and when we were on the way, she called and said they thought they had finally figured it out, but thanks anyway. So I was off the hook.
Next time, I think I just won't answer the phone if they call, if there is a next time. I still don't know if I should help them or not.
I got my new dulcimer in the mail yesterday, and its great and sounds good. We had a great class last night with new teachers and learned more than we had in the other teacher's class the whole time. So that's good.
When I left that job last year, I felt like I was not being valued for the responsibility I had, or being paid what I was worth. They ran an ad to replace me and hired another lady who they bragged on during my notice about how much she knew about computers.
So when the secretary called me, I asked if the "new secretary" couldn't fix it. She said no because she has never done anything with Access, only Excel.
Well I had very mixed feelings about this situation. On one hand, I felt like at least they realize I had some value and they NEED me to fix it. On the other hand, I owe them nothing, as they sure didn't appreciate me when I was there, why should they yell now?
I didn't quite know what to do. I told her I would try to come by there today. I asked my husband what he thought, and he predictably said to tell them to stick it. ha.
Anyway, I finally decided since I had given my word I'm come by there, I should go, and when we were on the way, she called and said they thought they had finally figured it out, but thanks anyway. So I was off the hook.
Next time, I think I just won't answer the phone if they call, if there is a next time. I still don't know if I should help them or not.
I got my new dulcimer in the mail yesterday, and its great and sounds good. We had a great class last night with new teachers and learned more than we had in the other teacher's class the whole time. So that's good.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Living Large is More than a Dress Size
My husband and I went to Savannah over the weekend with my daughter and son-in-law. We went to visit my youngest son who is a DJ there. Savannah is really pretty with all the Spanish moss in the trees and the historic houses. We had a really good time. We wanted to go to Paula Deen's restaurant, "Lady & Sons" but the line was way too long for the weather we had to stand in. We did get to do some serious shopping at an outlet mall though, and any weekend with shopping is a good day.
Gilmore Girls tonight was awesome. Let's just hope that they don't start next week by saying the ending this week was just someone's dream! I never thought I'd get hooked on a nighttime soap opera which is basically what this is, but I absolutely love this show, even though Lorelai can be more than a little obnoxious at times.
I read a girl's blog about how cool her new vacuum is, so I don't feel like mine is too terribly boring, even though it sure seems that way at times. (Her blog did make me want to try out that vacuum! And anyone who can write about everyday things and make me feel inspired has my vote!)
I've decided I'm technology deprived. My daughter has an IPOD which she played over our radio in the car on the way to Savannah. How cool is that? And it's cute too. I definitely want one.
I found out today that a short story I submitted has been definitely accepted as a finalist for a new book that is coming out. I'm not telling any of my family (except the one person in the family who reads this blog) until I find out something definite. I was chosen by another book as a finalist once but didn't make the final cut. So we'll see. If chosen I get 200 dollars and a copy of the book, which is not the good part. The good part is I can say I've been published. Me. A published writer. It's like saying I've accomplished something besides raising good kids (which they became as much in spite of me as because of me).
I also found out today that my new dulcimer I ordered is on it's way and should arrive on Thursday. So it's been a great day.
Gilmore Girls tonight was awesome. Let's just hope that they don't start next week by saying the ending this week was just someone's dream! I never thought I'd get hooked on a nighttime soap opera which is basically what this is, but I absolutely love this show, even though Lorelai can be more than a little obnoxious at times.
I read a girl's blog about how cool her new vacuum is, so I don't feel like mine is too terribly boring, even though it sure seems that way at times. (Her blog did make me want to try out that vacuum! And anyone who can write about everyday things and make me feel inspired has my vote!)
I've decided I'm technology deprived. My daughter has an IPOD which she played over our radio in the car on the way to Savannah. How cool is that? And it's cute too. I definitely want one.
I found out today that a short story I submitted has been definitely accepted as a finalist for a new book that is coming out. I'm not telling any of my family (except the one person in the family who reads this blog) until I find out something definite. I was chosen by another book as a finalist once but didn't make the final cut. So we'll see. If chosen I get 200 dollars and a copy of the book, which is not the good part. The good part is I can say I've been published. Me. A published writer. It's like saying I've accomplished something besides raising good kids (which they became as much in spite of me as because of me).
I also found out today that my new dulcimer I ordered is on it's way and should arrive on Thursday. So it's been a great day.
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