every grain of rice counts
all it costs you is time.
My donation to date to
The United Nations
World Food Program:
71,680 grains of rice
A bit of narcissism
As in ... "You SO own me!"
Warning! Mood swings!
"I have seen the sea when it is stormy and wild; when it is quiet and serene; when it is dark and moody. And in all its moods I see myself." --Martin Buxbaum
Day of the Week Poem
We lost it all to
1 Dead in Attic
2002 acclaimed series
on New Orleans'
Katrina Information Network
Katrina 2 Years Later - CNN Report
Matter of Grey Matter
September 11, 2001 --
I began daily injections of Copaxone in June of 2005. Although I seem to have permanent symptoms from my last exacerbation, my last MRI revealed no new lesions and no new scarring.
devastating effects of MS
My Champions are:
Candy, Pen and
Glenda, my sweet Flutterby
I'm honored & humbled
Multiple Sclerosis and
the Aspartame Hoax
to soothe a savage beast,
To soften rocks,
or bend a knotted oak.
-- William Congreve --
.:: Diablo Tristram Village ::.
Little known tidbit about Friday: I paid $600 for my very first computer in 1996. It was built to spec for one reason ... so I could play Diablo. I became addicted to the music of Tristram Village. To me, it's musical valium.
I am loved!
A thoughtful token
that changes often
from my sweet friend,
Candy @ Daily Thoughts previous tokens
From precious Smallstar ...
From my dollface, Melly Girl
And I love!
If you requested a graphic and it's not here then it's probably here.
If time and health allow, I'm willing to make custom group hugs. Request on taggie. Specify colors & names. Group hug without names is fine ... whatever. Two to four huggers.
Recent Mouse Doodles
Compassion in action
[x] Don't almost give. GIVE!
Gifts, believe me, captivate both men and Gods, Jupiter himself was won over and appeased by gifts. -Ovid-
Joined || Cliques
<!--the ageless project-->
[ Sine qua non ]
[ captivation ]
[x] She Inspires Us
[x] Friday's Child
[x] Mistress Anne
[x] The Wild At Heart
[x] Tempus Fugit
[x] HOUSE rules
[x] The truth is out there
[ titillation ]
Hoops & Yoyo
Be The First To Know
.:: Monday, April 19, 2010 ::.
How could I forget?
I don't know how he found me or why he was even looking but there it was ... on a page that listed my real name, a note from him. It read simply, "Hi, do you remember me?" I smiled and thought I would love to write him back and say ...
"Yeah, I remember you. How could I forget you? I married you. Your name was tattooed on my derriere. I carried and miscarried four of your babies. You fractured my skull three times before I finally gathered the courage to leave you. You beat me in front of your teenage girlfriend and months later watched her attack me when I came to the house to see my dog and her new pups. It was me that you called when your teen girlfriend turned 21 and left you ... on your birthday. My mother invited you to every family reunion even after our divorce. We tried to reconcile but you once again accused me of trying to seduce your friends. That time when you raised your hand to me I told you to go ahead, hit me but you would have to kill me because if you didn't, I was going to press charges. Yes, I remember you ... sometimes I wish I didn't."
But instead I just ignored it. I haven't returned to that page and don't plan to. It was a very odd feeling to know he was interested in reconnecting with me. The last time I saw him was well over 30 years ago. It amuses me really. I wonder ... what the hell is he remembering? Doesn't he remember our brutal history? Or does he have a bit of regret? Does something tender about us still reside in his memory? It doesn't matter. I've no desire to reconnect with any of my ex-husbands ... but what satisfaction it would give me for them to know I'm better now, stronger now, wiser now and for a woman my age, smokin' hot. That's pretty immature, isn't? Maybe it is but it's one other thing ... it's honest. <grin>
.:: Tuesday, March 02, 2010 ::.
I come here time after time. I create an entry. Then I either save it as a draft or just delete it. I used to be able to be totally honest and candid. Lately I've become more private. I've become more introspective. I still keep in touch with a few people on line but keep it light. I'm changing. For the better? I don't know. I do know that things that were once important to me are no longer important. The most important thing now is simply peace.
.:: Friday, December 25, 2009 ::.
Wishing for you and yours a very Merry Christmas. *hugs*
.:: Saturday, November 14, 2009 ::.
I started weekly therapy (every Tuesday), I believe, in February. Here it is November and I don't feel like I've made any real progress. In fact, if anything, I feel as if I've been backsliding. Therapy has turned out to be somewhat of a Pandora's Box -- releasing all the horror of a past I thought I had either dealt with or forgotten. It's been particularly difficult lately. The only reason I continue is because of what lays at the bottom of the box.
From Tuesday to Tuesday I find joy in many ways. Lately the main source of my joy comes in the form of a seven year old little girl who runs to me, jumps into my arms, wraps her little legs around my waist as I bend her over backwards and plant hundreds of kisses on her little neck. That child doesn't care that I once lived on the street or that I was drug addicted and turning tricks. All she cares about is that I love her and I keep my promises. She has enough ugly truths in her life so the fact that I adore her is all she needs to know. Now that's priceless therapy!
The story of Pandora's Box
In Greek mythology, Pandora was the first woman on earth. Zeus ordered Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, to create her and he did, using water and earth. The gods endowed her with many talents; Aphrodite gave her beauty, Apollo music, Hermes persuasion, and so forth. Hence her name: Pandora, "all-gifted".
When Prometheus stole fire from heaven, Zeus took vengeance by presenting Pandora to Epimetheus, Prometheus' brother. With her, Pandora had a box which she was not to open under any circumstance. Impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the box, and all evil contained escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the box had escaped, except for one thing which lay at the bottom, and that was Hope.
.:: Monday, November 09, 2009 ::.
Hurricane Ida ... huh?
When Hurricane Ida began to enter the Gulf of Mexico, I admit, I was nervous. It was hard not to be. Few people remember that on a Friday evening in August of 2005, Hurricane Katrina was predicted to head for the Florida panhandle. By Sunday morning all of New Orleans was being told "RUN!!!!" The rest is history. Most of us evacuated. Nearly 2,000 who couldn't or wouldn't evacuate, lost their lives. Many of us lost everything. So, naturally, a hurricane entering the Gulf would make us uneasy. Hurricane Ida is NOT in the same category as Katrina -- literally. Katrina was a monster and gathered strength as she raced through the Gulf. Hurricane Ida is no monster and is already beginning to break apart.
Over night, Hurricane Ida weakened from 105 mph winds to 80 mph winds. She's fighting off wind shear which is making it difficult for her to remain organized. As she approaches the coastline, the waters become much cooler which will also weaken her, probably to tropical storm status.
The lower parishes (those closer to the coastline which are outside of the levee protection area) will be in danger of higher winds and flooding. Here, on the Westbank of New Orleans, we will have rains and increased wind -- tropical storm weather. While it can be severe, it won't be catastrophic or life threatening. Locally, streets flood during any heavy rainstorm which make the streets hard to navigate so just as a precaution, I'll go to the store to get basics -- bread, milk, eggs, fruit, water ... cookies (heh heh).
Mr. Man is being his usual cantankerous self which makes me want to lock him in the closet for his own protection. It's times like this I wonder why I ever felt badly for him. He says "it ain't nuthin"; then later tells me rather condescendingly (and loudly) that people would be damned fools not to be concerned. So, right now my biggest concern is being shut in with this grizzly bear for the rest of the day while Hurricane / Tropical Storm Ida passes by. I'll just have to do the prudent thing and not poke him with a stick. In fact, I'll just stay in my room.
I rather enjoy rain storms. I'm going to get a cup of tea, grab a new historical fiction novel (about Henry the VIII, of course), a battery operated lantern (just in case we lose power), my iphone (to stay connected & listen to music), curl up, isolate and look forward to my therapy session tomorrow morning.
How my heart aches for California. True, the California threat is earthquakes but at least there's no earthquake season six months out of every year.
To those who have emailed me, sent tweets, texts or called -- I appreciate your concern so very much. i'm glad not to be responding with panic. IF we lose power I'll still try to update via Twitter ... if there's anything to update ... which I doubt ... which I guess makes me a damned fool. *sticks tongue out at Mr. Man* Of course, he's in the other room. LOL
OH, by the way ...
NEW ORLEANS SAINTS 8 - 0, BABY!
.:: Thursday, October 29, 2009 ::.
Get your zombie on ...
Popcap Games has created a flash application that creates a highly customizable zombie avatar to use on Facebook, Twitter or any other social networking site. Kinda fun and actually closer to how I feel today after my flu shot. =^p
You find find the Zombatar here.
If y'all decide to create one, I'd love to see it. You can email it to me or post a link in my comments.
Wreckage of active addiction -- UPDATE
About my last post -- as always, I appreciate the outpouring of support. I want to assure y'all that this incident has not presented sorrow or hardship for me. Sometimes you just have to let go with love which is what I've chosen to do. Life is full of ups and downs ... I focus on the ups and learn from the downs. For me, staying away from using addicts is kinda like avoiding walking barefoot over broken glass.
Today there hasn't been any contact from them which lets me know I made the right decision. Once I said "No drugs and no bail money" they no longer had use for me. I'm sad for them. However, I chose life -- they can as well. Until then I'm still going to make the best of my choice.
Thanks again, y'all!
.:: Wednesday, October 28, 2009 ::.
The wreckage of active addiction ...
My godchild began her recovery just prior to Hurricane Katrina. She attended meetings come hell or high water ... literally. Her life improved. In her early 20s, she rented a beautiful little two bedroom house, had custody of her 3 year old daughter, had a job, a car -- all the benefits of being clean came fast for her ... maybe too fast. It wasn't but a year later she relapsed. That was about three years ago. Now she's using, pregnant and on house arrest ... rather, she was on house arrest.
There and a half hours ago her mother sent me a text, "I need you.". I drove the short distance to their house. I arrived in time to see deputies from the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Office putting her in handcuffs. As they were leading her away I held her hysterical mother in my arms as my godchild cried over her shoulder, "Mommy! Mommy! I love you, Mommy!" This was the same "child" that not too very long ago called her mother a whore and spat in her face.
I finally found out she had tested dirty -- meaning the results of her urine test revealed she had been using opiates ... heroin. All I could think was "Consequences, consequences, consequences." She knew what would happen if she was caught using.
After the deputies took her away, her mother was inconsolable. What happened next infuriated me ... her mother asked me if I had anything that would relieve her stress -- "Do you have anything that will knock me out." were her first words. I responded, "One, I'm not the dope man. Two, my meds are prescribed for a reason -- because I need them. I take them as directed. I won't participate in your addiction." She clung to me, apologized and cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- I just need something. I can't do this alone. My baby's gone."
Maybe she did need something to calm her down but I wasn't going to give her anything. I'm angry with her and I'm angry with my godchild. That poor little baby growing inside of her didn't have a choice when my godchild decided to pump heroin through her body. My godchild's daughter didn't get a choice about being left without a mother, perhaps for five years. Her children, born & unborn, will suffer the consequences of her behavior. But my godchild did have a choice and so does her mother -- unfortunately, they choose to use.
My friend kept screaming at me, "She's your godchild!" Was it an accusation that I failed her? Was she passing judgment on me because I wasn't crying? Was it condemnation because I wouldn't take part in the hysteria and drama? I told my friend I love her and left her with her husband and her grandchild.
Last month marked 19 years clean for me. I'm not proud or boastful. I'm grateful. The hurtful thing is that this friend was one of my first sponsors nineteen years ago. She went above and beyond to support me during those scary months I was first getting clean. I want to be there for her now but I can't condone her drug use and can't bear to watch. I've always told her and my godchild if they want help getting clean I'm there for them; otherwise, no.
My mother used to tell me things I didn't understand. Things like, "Sometimes the best answer is: do nothing." or "Sometimes the best way to be there for someone is by not being there." Now I understand. For now, until they decide they want recovery, I have to stay away. I admit being around that mentality could be dangerous for me. I'm certain I've another relapse in me but I'm not entirely certain I can survive it and find recovery again -- I hope they do.
.:: Thursday, October 22, 2009 ::.
Unconscious Mutterinngs ... just to let y'all know I'm still alive
.:: Thursday, July 23, 2009 ::.
Out of the frying pan into the fire ...
It's hard to know what to say ... even embarrassing. There have been so many changes. Unfortunate drama.
I was terribly unstable emotionally which took it's toll on everyone around me. The tension escalated until it erupted into drama and I was forced by circumstances to flee the haven I fled to for safety. How ironic is that? I lost the only valuable possession that survived Katrina -- ruined beyond repair -- once a valuable antique, now worthless. I don't know how it happened. I suspect it was the unfortunate victim of the fallout. I can't see any other way it could have gotten so damaged. All I can say is oh well -- it's just a thing. Not anything I want to grieve over -- bigger fish to fry -- bigger concerns to care about.
The biggest loss ... I lost a friend. The who, how, what and why isn't unimportant. It's over. People will say it will be OK but I'm fairly certain that's not the case. Truthfully, I don't think it would be in either of our best interest to pursue reconciliation. I'm not sure it ever will be. Time will tell but that's not my biggest concern right now.
Where am I? Limbo.
Oddly, the person who came to my rescue was Mr. Man. I'm living out of a suitcase in the spare bedroom of his condo. He's been supportive, loving, caring ... sober. I cried for days. Uncharacteristically he comforted me and apologized for his part in the situation.
During the moving I did something that aggravated my siatic nerve. I've been in horrible pain. Mr. Man has been taking care of me -- something he never did the entire eleven years we were together. He tells me he didn't think I'd leave. He talks about how empty his life was without me. He says he still wants to try. I tell him I still don't trust him. I tell him I won't be pressured and the fact that I have nowhere to go at present doesn't mean we'll reconcile. I tell him I'm most interested in getting me better physically and emotionally. In fact, it's my ONLY concern. It's time for to take care of me. I won't allow anyone to deter me. I WILL get better ... with help.
This last event has me feeling vulnerable, defective, degraded and humiliated but not defeated. Although, I am concerned that I'm so broken not even my best friend was able to stand me. Speaks volumes, I think.
Honestly, I haven't decided anything other than I want to continue therapy. I'm safe for now but in my heart and mind I'm lost and have no idea where I'm going. BUT ... as my mother always told me, "In everything a blessing" -- I just can't see the blessing in this yet but one day my mouth will fly wide open, I"ll gasp and then say, "Oh, now I see!"
California is still a dream. I'll never lose hope ... ever!
By the way, y'all are responsible for lifting up my heart and the corners of my mouth. The joy of living ... y'all are very much a part of that joy for me. Thank you!
.:: Saturday, July 11, 2009 ::.
I messed it all up ...
I don't have interent access here except by way of "my" wireless" router still connected at Mr. Man's place. Sometimes the signal quality is excellent and sometimes poor or the ever mysterious "limited". Day before yesterday I tried to edit my blog and then lost connection which totally messed up plenty of things between the <body> and </body> tags. =^p
So blogwise some things have changed -- some things are missing. I'll need to work on it. Maybe a new layout is called for? I guess it will give me something to do while I'm trying not to think of Mr. Man, how he's doing or how he'll ever survive without me.
I'm sure he'll be just fine without me but there's this tiny, teeny, weensy part of me that wishes for his misery without me. I can hear my sister saying, "How old are you?" because it probably sounds a bit juvenile. But there it is ... the awful truth ... I kinda sorta miss him and hope he's miserable without me.
He was out until the wee hours last night so he's probably not miserable. More like he's enjoying the freedom to drink his life away. Funny that I'm still in the condo complex but I never see him -- this is a good thing. I don't need to see him. Seeing him would only tug at my heart. I've been with him nearly twelve years. Yes, he was abusive but he wasn't abusive ALL the time and it's those sweet parts of him I miss. It's gonna take time. I know I have to go through this pain and separation anxiety -- there's no way over it, under it or around it -- I have to go through it ... one day at a time. Today is day three.
me = horse
him = burning barn
Friday, don't ran back into the barn!
past = darkness
future = bright
Friday, go into the light!
THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR YOUR TAG. I try to acknowledge everyone, but sometimes the challenge that MS presents doesn't afford me the energy. If you find that I've overlooked your tag, please blame my fatigued and addled brain and not my <3.
Thank you to Deirdre who INSPIRED this "I'M NOT DISSING YOU" announcement.
Feed Me, Roll Me, Button Me Up
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Blogroll me, baby!
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