Creating Nirvana

This Takes Talent!

2012-01-26T11:11:00.000-05:00

Perfectly straddled on the median (which is wider than the grass you are seeing), stopped just before the bridge, abandoned, lights on and running.

Waves on West Seattle

2012-01-25T15:16:00.000-05:00

No Really. You're NOT Fine.

2012-01-12T20:06:00.000-05:00

I've been trained for this. Trained well in fact.

You can't plan for when these skills will be needed. Or, more accurately, when your body will spring into action and switch to auto-pilot. Today was one of those days.

I thought I was just going to the grocery store to pick up a few items to make soup. God, The Universe, Higher Being or whatever you call the Higher Power had other plans for me.

A long line of traffic, nothing surprising about that, except that when I finally passed through the intersection, there was a car that appeared to have hit a semi which was stopped at the light and a man laying on the ground motionless. A large crowd was gathering, but no one was doing anything, just standing there staring.

I pulled over, maybe even parked on the sidewalk, I'm not sure, grabbed my cell phone, calling 911 as I was running, describing my location and what I was seeing.

The well-dressed man was blue. I don't mean shades of pale or a little grey, he was blue. And yet, everyone was staring. I shoved through the crowd, dropping my phone somewhere along the way and went into auto pilot.

ABCs.

Airway- yes

Breathing- yes, although shallow and sporadic

Circulation- weak, thready pulse

I began to vigorously stimulate his sternum in an attempt to illicit a pain response.

Nothing.

I continued as I instructed someone to help me find some sort of medical ID tag. None.

Someone found his wallet and a spoon and needle in the passenger seat of the car. I had a name to work with which was more than I had before, I repeated his name over and over as I tried to get him to show some signs of response.

I know how these things usually end when someone overdoses. He was dressed in business clothing, not who you'd peg for a drug user.

Where is the ambulance already???

I kept on, maintained the airway and rubbed his sternum for all I was worth. If he was going, it wasn't without a fight from me.

Then his eyes fluttered. He opened his eyes for the briefest second and was gone again.

I continued my fight. So intense was I in this fight that I never heard the sirens of the firetrucks, ambulance and police cars as they rolled up.

One of the paramedics literally lifted me away and was saying, "We're here now, let us take over and do our job."

I stood back with the rest of the crowd and watched, praying for a good outcome.

As more of the story came out regarding the events before I arrived, it became apparent what had happened. One girl was an absolute hero; he had slumped over the wheel and as a pedestrian, she ran got the door to his car open and was trying to get the car stopped by pulling on the emergency brake as it was rolling out into swiftly moving traffic of this five-lane, major thoroughfare.

The paramedics worked on him, injecting something, narcan if I had to guess, and he sat straight up and stared at me. Looking directly in his eyes, I said his name.

"I'm fine. I'm just fine," came his response to no one in particular.

He was loaded up and taken away. I was questioned by the police and paramedics. As my body was exiting auto-pilot mode, I began to cry, why, I don't know.

They were asking if I was okay. I said, "I felt like I didn't do enough."

The fire department Captain gave me his card and said, "There are no certainties in this, only probabilities. And today, you probably saved his life."

I still feel like I didn't do enough and wish I knew his outcome.

Comic Relief From Morgan

2012-01-07T14:53:00.000-05:00

What? I'm not doing it right? But you hate doing laundry. Besides, this is really warm when its fresh from the dryer and I'll fold in a minute.

A Door, A Window...Something

2012-01-06T03:28:00.000-05:00

When one walks into a room, you bring your whole life with you. Same for a new job, new city, new apartment or new relationship. You bring your whole life, your whole being and all the experiences you have encountered.

I moved to Seattle with what seemed like sincere promises from many and am left realizing who my true friends are and how easy it is to speak a promise with no intention of backing it up. I have been let down on so many levels.

Monday I was fired from my job. The one I moved 3300 miles to Seattle for, the one that cut my hours to 10 hours a week once I had invested thousands of dollars in the move for this company. They took away my financial stability, refused my request to spend the holidays with my family, thus I spent Christmas Day alone with no electricity because of a wind storm. The first day of 2012 I was scheduled to work, they fired me just as I was to become eligible for benefits.

I had been written up for dress code violations consisting of trivial things like having a dark brown button on my pants. I was sent home and called back twice during rush hour traffic because they couldn't decide if they needed me for the day. I was asked to stay late and fill out an application to work there two months after my first day. Ultimately, I was fired for failure to show up to work when I was told I wasn't needed that day.

I am frustrated beyond belief. I'm scared about my financial future and have come to the conclusion that I really don't want to be here. I want to be, NEED to be in a state where I can practice massage, a profession that makes me happy. I want to have more employment avenues rather than just medical office work or waiting tables to fill in the financial gaps.

As I said in my last post, I have grown and changed and so has Seattle. We no longer go together like peas and carrots; it feels more like oil and water.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I'm putting it out to the Universe and God that while Seattle will always be one of my favorite cities to visit, it is no longer home. Please Universe, open a door, a window or give me a sledgehammer to make my own new opening and get out of this mess.

Favorite Jeans

2011-12-29T15:19:00.000-05:00

We all have had a favorite pair of jeans. Most of us know what its like to put on a few extra pounds and those jeans no longer fit.

"But those were my favorite!" we think to ourselves. "I wore those all the time. How is it possible that they no longer fit?"

For some of us its a heart wrenching experience.

We get determined. "I'll show those jeans! Diet begins tomorrow!"

Time weaves us down the road of life, the holidays come, the jeans don't fit. New Year's resolutions are made; "this year will be different" we vow. By the time our goal is possible, its way too warm to be wearing jeans, but hey, we look great in those shorts and skirts that fit perfectly!

After the weather cools, the realization sets in that there have been a few too many bar-b-que's, picnics and late nights out frolicking in the warm summer air for the goal of favorite jeans fitting to be immediately obtainable.

After years of hard work, what should have been perfect timing slipping through our fingers and much frustration, guess what? An unexpected window has opened in the fabric of time and they fit.

We are in them and the beloved jeans fit!

Running to the mirror in anticipation of reliving the memory of how perfectly the jeans fit; how perfectly they hugged and accentuated each amazing feature; it doesn't take long before disappointment sets in.

Somehow they are faded, not quite crisp and clean like the memory. They fit but they don't fit. They don't bring out our best like they once did. They no longer possess the sparkly aliveness and fun of times past. They now feel like faded, old jeans that should simply be retired having lost the qualities that made them so special at one point at time.

This is how I'm feeling about Seattle. Seattle was once my favorite place. The water, the amazing mountains in every direction, the misty dusk of mysteriousness in the winter, days that stretched on forever in the summers. Somehow none of it is quite the same. It no longer feels like home. In fact, it feels like anything but home. It feels crowded, unhappy, full of such angry, strongly opinionated people and don't you dare disagree with them because you are wrong.

Perhaps it was a series of unfortunate events that started almost the minute I arrived that soured the experience. Maybe the memories faded as Seattle grew distant in my rearview mirror, becoming more nostalgia than actual memories. Either way, Seattle feels more like an old pair of ill-fitting jeans, than the place that supported me in my goals and dreams.

I used to love to call Seattle home. Used to.

Holiday Home Tour

2011-12-22T15:17:00.000-05:00

Just a simple tree, few knick-knacks and lots of smiles.

Next?

2011-11-22T17:23:00.000-05:00

Now that the dust has settled, the enormity of what I’ve done is really hitting me. I’ve moved across the country, coast to coast, 3300 miles, by myself. That’s a HUGE thing and even though I’ve lived in Seattle, I feel like I’m experiencing culture shock all over again.

A relationship of over five years has ended and all the feelings that come along with that huge lifestyle change are surfacing.

My financial safety net of my job is opening up holes in itself, having been told my transfer would be for a full time position and once here only being scheduled 12-16 hours a week is not sustainable.

I’ve applied for jobs at my former Seattle employer, but have yet to be called for an interview. I know the holidays are a tough time to get hired and even as I hold knowledge that I’ll be called, doubt slowly creeps in.

My new apartment is super cute, unpacked and organized. I have my own parking spot, a real bonus in Seattle and love it! Knowing that I’m all I have to depend on to pay the rent is slowly becoming daunting.

I know that change is hard and requires an adjustment period and being that I’ve changed everything about my life I expected this period to be full of vacillating emotions. Dealing with them as they surface is sometimes easier than not.

Universe, I’ve trusted, gone in the direction I felt I was being led and am hoping your safety net isn’t going to let me fall. I believe everything happens for a reason and change is hard and brings all kinds of emotions. I fully believe in “this or something better.” As I sift through the emotions, I’m open to the something better in whatever form it may come.

Hello Seattle! I've Missed You!

2011-11-06T10:32:00.000-05:00

After driving from the Atlantic Ocean to Puget Sound, I'm happy to say I've arrived at my new home in Seattle. Actually I arrived on Wednesday and Seattle didn't disappoint, it was raining when I got here, but my apartment is cute as can be. I drove a mere 3300 miles and I was fortunate enough to be able to spend the weekend with my Grandmother along the way.

Right now I have what would fit in the car, which amounts to the bare bones essentials. By that, I really mean bare bones:

a bag of dog food
two dog crates
a suitcase of clothes
my coffee maker (trust me, you want me to have this because me + no coffee = GRUMPY)
a blow up raft that I'm sleeping on the floor with and a lap blanket to cover me
a cooler that is doubling as the desk for my laptop
the mallard (fur-kids' favorite toy)

Its kinda like indoor camping with electricity.

To say I'm thrilled that my belongings will arrive tomorrow is an understatement. I will just express my excitement here because if I climb on the roof and scream my happiness, the landlord might think the crazy lady just moved into 2B.

But seriously? I'm going to have a BED! With SHEETS! And PILLOWS! Oh the luxury! I can hardly wait.

I'm also going to have kitchen stuff which has possibly been the most difficult. My long time friend brought over a plate, fork, spoon and pot along with my favorite tea. This has helped, but I'm starving and desperately trying not to spend money eating out every meal.

The drive being so long allowed lots of time for thinking, meditating and second guessing. Picking up and moving by yourself from one coast to the other isn't easy logistically nor is it an easy decision. Huge thanks to all my Seattle friends that have made this easier. I'm thrilled to call this my new home:

photo credit to digitalbusstop.com

Decision Made!

2011-10-27T08:32:00.000-04:00

From the previous post, it stays and I go. Or it goes with me. Or it takes me there. However you want to look at it, the car is a keeper for now and I'm leaving for Seattle this morning. It was just too much stress to try to buy a new car the day before moving across the country.

Any other bloggie friends along I80 or I90 that would like a visit?

Should it Stay or Should it Go?

2011-10-26T08:24:00.000-04:00

Because I don't have enough on my plate, the universe decided to play with my head a little. In one day I am leaving to drive over 3400 miles. Yesterday, as I was risking life and limb driving on I95 to put the last few things into my PODS unit before they closed at 2pm, the car ran out of gas. This is not unusual as this car needs gas like fish need water. But I lurrrrrrve this car. Remember this post when I was so dreamy over buying it?

Well, I still really love the car, but I'm maybe not as dreamy.

I am out of gas, drifting into the gas station on fumes as is my typical protocol and quickly realized I was screwed. The car is totally out of gas and the fuel door won't open.

I try the special fuel door unlocking sequence again. Remove key from ignition, unlock all doors using the driver's side switch, press fuel door at the 9 o'clock position.

Nothing.

Low level panic ensues.

I start the car, put it in drive, you know, to trick it into thinking it had gone somewhere and would forget it didn't want to open the fuel door. Turn off car and repeat special sequence. Nothing.

I should say nothing but tears. And my life flashing before my eyes as I drive through oh say, Montana and have this happen with no roadside service available for hours.

I call VW and they get the car to the nearest dealership. I have to give a huge shout out to Sean at Curran VW in (somewhere because I don't even know where I was) Connecticut. Sean had no idea I was coming, but immediately greeted me with "I can fix your car." He had it up on the lift, made someone take a late lunch, did some magic (or replaced or cleaned or something) and now the fuel door opened. He also fixed my tail light which consistently burns out about every six months and the tire pressure warning light that comes on almost every month.

Sean told me that if this happens again I can hold down the unlock button on the driver's door while simultaneously "popping" the fuel door. This would be a great trick except the driver's door is on the opposite side of the fuel door which is at the rear of the car (obviously) and I don't have go-go-gadget arms.

While I was waiting (and quietly crying), which wasn't very long, he got me coffee and provided a level of customer service I have only ever experienced at one other dealership. Sean is an absolute gem and Curran VW is lucky to have him. I was lucky to be helped by him. He's like Superman with an invisible cape.

I really love this car as evidenced by this post, and while my heart is screaming "spend $1000 on new tires, you love this car" my head is saying "today might need to be car shopping day because you've spent as much time in the service department of VW dealerships across the country as you have driving this car and its time to get practical."

Once the Door is Closed...

2011-10-22T10:15:00.000-04:00

Apparently it creates enough of a vacuum to open the window. Which is exactly what happened after I published this post.

I got three comments and an email back from the apartment manager I applied with for a one bedroom unit.

Everyone?? I AM MOVING BACK TO SEATTLE!

The apartment is an AMAZING location, better than I could have possibly dreamed and the square footage is great. My incredible friend Paul has gone twice to check out the apartment, both times at night in the dark to be sure there aren't, you know, vampires and stuff. He met with the landlord, measured and basically drew me a picture of my new place. Paul, you're my hero!

If you've been reading me through the years, you know how I've missed the city, the all things I love about it and how excited I am even though I'll be moving there during the ~~rainy~~ reading season.

While I know nostalgia is Karma's bitch, I do know there are certain grounding features about my life in Seattle that I appreciated and appreciate all the more since they have ceased to exist.

To all the Seattle peeps? Moving party at my house with pizza and beverages!

Shine On!

2011-10-20T16:48:00.000-04:00

For those of you out of the loop, the SO broke up with me saying I "just didn't make him happy enough anymore."

"Happy enough," I thought? Isn't that something of one's own creation, not a reflection of how much someone in your life gives you, fills your well, and dotes on you? And if they make you "happy" but not "happy enough" what is the tipping point that puts you in one category and not the other? That allows you to be together for over five years then decide its not enough? I realize this is more a reflection on the SO and not on me, yet being the one dumped still hurts.

As I always do, I look for the positive, "how has this made me stronger" side of things. Knowledge is valuable and I have learned much, both about myself and relationships while with the SO. I learned I can love with all my heart, but that doesn't mean someone will get out of bed before two in the afternoon to have lunch with you. I learned you can want to go to an event, but if the other person refuses to make up their mind until hours before said event starts, your life will always be in free fall with no real direction or fun things to look forward to doing. I learned that making plans on your own will be the precise moment when this person will want to do something with you. I learned that breaking up and getting back together with the promise of "things will be different this time" only lasts for so long. All these things, the ups and downs, things getting better, us drifting apart just drains energy and doesn't make it sustainable.

And that's okay; not everything is meant to last. I can walk away with my head held high, knowing I gave it my all, loved fully, showed extreme gratitude and there is nothing I could have done to create a different outcome. I honored all that I hold sacred in a relationship and sometimes these things just don't work. Sometimes you have to love yourself enough to know when to throw in the towel and walk away, reclaiming your life for yourself. Instead of dividing priorities, deferring to the idea of "don't make waves" I've decided its time to put me solely first. I've always held the belief that its this or something better.

I'm ready for the something better.

My income won't support a decent life in Connecticut or New York City, at least not one that yields to my obsessive need to live indoors while not having my car stolen in my sleep.

I've got a few things in the works that, with luck, will pan out. In the meantime, I will keep doing what I do best, keep shining and moving toward my "better"!

Hello? There Is A Person At The Other End Of The Leash.

2011-09-08T23:30:00.000-04:00

One thing I’ve learned about having dogs is its an amazing way to get to know your neighbors. Another thing I’ve learned about my neighbors is the pseudo-bond with an animal crosses all boundaries. Yet another thing is some of my neighbors only want this pseudo-bond with the dogs and want nothing to do with me.

Example:

Tonight I was taking the kids out for Last Call. This is the very business like walk that is meant to get things moving and quickly because I’m usually tired and ready to get in bed.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and just as the door opens, adorable little Dry Cleaning Man (I call him this because he always has LOADS of dry cleaning every time I see him) is waiting. He sees the dogs, tumbles to his knees, sans dry cleaning, then sits in the track of the elevator door cuddling and kissing the dogs.

**sidenote--I do not like the dogs standing in the elevator door track for any period of time because there have been several incidents of getting a foot caught in the gap between the floor and the elevator resulting in frantic pulling and tugging of said foot in an effort to liberate it before the door can slide closed. They have also been known to stand there long enough, yet not be tall enough to prevent the elevator from closing. When this happens they don’t move forward or backward out of the path of the door, they slide sideways as the door slides closed risking getting crushed. Its usually Mom’s swift action of scooping the oblivious one out of harms path that saves the (fur)kiddo from getting squashed.

This man continued sitting in the elevator track, slobbering all over the dogs speaking rapidly to them in Mandarin, I believe. He keeps hugging them, making kissing noises and burying his face in their fur.

I’m guessing he had a really bad day.

He never once looked at me, as is often the case when this happens. In his own private world, he just continued nuzzling the dogs and in return they licked his face and snuggled right up to him.

I’m standing, patiently waiting for the spectacle to finish. It didn’t. It went on for a long time. The elevator began to buzz continuously. He showed no signs of moving but continued to cuddle, kiss, hug and nuzzle the dogs and they gave back every bit of love to this man.

After several minutes of the buzzing echoing throughout the parking garage, his wife appears seemingly from nowhere and begins speaking to him rapidly in the foreign language they share. Its obvious she isn’t happy with him sitting on the ground, loving on these dogs and begins to nudge him with her foot. He didn’t budge.

Then the most amazing thing happened. She sat, in her beautiful business suit and expensive heels, on the ground and cuddled the dogs with him. In serendipitous placement, my girl dog slid to her lap and boy dog stayed with him.

At this point I didn’t know what to do. This has happened with men, women, children, families, neighbors, co-workers, all kinds of people but never for this long. And never with someone so impeccably dressed that is just flat out sitting on the ground of the parking garage.

I continued to just stand there, holding leashes. They continued as though I wasn't there at all.

She finally rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at her husband. He looked down at her and kissed her on the cheek. They both sighed, smiled and got up, going fully into the elevator, never once looking at or speaking to me. Not even a wave.

I was okay with that because it was obvious they both felt better and had somehow received what they needed from the interaction. My dogs had provided the surrogate pet love their lives were lacking. And this made me happy. From the looks of the bouncing (fur)kids at my feet, it made them quite happy as well.

Choices

2011-08-20T11:28:00.000-04:00

Again, its been a while. So much is happening in my life I don't feel like I can write about on my blog because its so personal and there is a certain lurker that checks in practically daily.

In a cloak of mystery, we had a major move planned that is rapidly falling apart. I am beside myself trying to decide what to do.

Do I still try for my first choice city even though its a (very) long shot but has a good job opportunity? Go for the second choice which is a long shot? Move to a financially feasible city that wasn't even on the table of choices? Or stay put and save more money?

Oh the choices!

I should know by now that life never seems to plateau, even just for a little while. Its not just me, all of us have challenges constantly thrown our way. Sometimes they just seem so overwhelming that I become stunned into a state of indecision. I always appreciate people sharing their experiences, as it makes me feel less alone knowing I'm not the only one who has gone through something like this. I know others mean well when they give (often unsolicited) advice, but when the advice is given without regard to what is meaningful to me and comes across akin to ordering a child what to do, its more hurtful than helpful.

I've had everything from:

"What your real problem is...is those dogs of yours. Just give them away then you'll have a world of choices open to you."

"If you are serious about moving and want to as badly as you say you do, you wouldn't be so materialistic. Just sell all your furniture and clothes and travel light. Then you'll be set."

"If you're really determined to move and need money, just sell your car and use that money to move. You can always get another car in a year or two."

I realize everyone has the best intentions and these may have been choices that worked in their life, but don't necessarily apply to my life as neatly.

So here I sit, time rapidly ticking away with me bumbling around trying to figure out the best choice. I know this is part of the growth process of life and we are never fully "baked" in that sense, but why does growth have to hurt so much?

Finding Your Creativity

2011-06-21T22:58:00.000-04:00

I'm realizing the NYC / Tri-State area and I don't get along well. My life has gone from organized, goal oriented and driven to seemingly mush and brain lint since moving to Connecticut.

Somehow, over the past two years, I have lost my creativity. My sparkle. My vibe. My mojo. Everyone has a different name for it, but mine has been crushed and tossed away and need to get it back. Sure there has been culture shock all over again since moving here from Dallas. The rat-race pace of life feels like it has run me over. The past winter with over 100 inches of snow has done me in. Perhaps my Pisces self is too overwhelmed by the Northeast to maintain my Zen? I can't keep up and know I don't want to live like this anymore. This isn't living to me, it's existing. Big difference.

I used to have so many ideas flowing through my head, I carried a notebook and wrote everything down and made notes in my BlackBerry constantly. I always had four or five blog posts brewing in my head, photo ideas for my tumbler blog jumping around along with massage and yoga to keep me grounded enough to do it all. I had TIME for my life. Now I just feel numb, like I'm on the hamster wheel running all the time just to keep up.

There isn't anything fresh or new to act as a catalyst for sparking new ideas. I am just working continuously at a job I don't love to make ends meet and am so mentally and physically exhausted, there is no room in my head for creativity or fun. Any suggestions for a temporary fix until the fall when the lease is up and I am moving away?

I'm not sad or have regrets about trying a life in Connecticut, but its time to call it quits and move on, and move on happily.

What do you do to find your creativity? Your zest for life?

Family Stories

2011-06-12T21:26:00.000-04:00

During our recent weekly conversation, my Mother relayed a hilarious, yet creepy family story that somehow I had never heard before now.

My Mother grew up in an old house in small town middle Iowa. This house is built like a fortress and has withstood the test of time, 100 years to be exact with my Grandmother still living there. I used to spend summers there, working in the family restaurant and the only thing that was creepy to me was the basement. Of the restaurant or the house.

The thing I never knew (and am glad I never knew until know) was that occasionally a bat would enter the house. Yes, a bat.

The point of entry was never found and being that my Grandmother encountered a bat as recently as this past week, the point of entry is still an open door to the bats.

My Mother told me how as a child it was a scary, creepy occurrence to suddenly have a bat fly into the living room at night. This was such a problem that as young girls, my Mother and her sister had a nightly check to be sure the "bat rag" was stuffed in the basement door. I was skeeved out just listening to her tell the story. Apparently bats like to nest in your hair. EWWWWW!

The funny part is my Grandfather would put a large kitchen pot on his head and take a tennis racket, start swinging and beat them to death. After a few encounters, he got so good, he could kill a bat with one swing of the tennis racket while wearing the pot on his head.

Now that is one good shot!

What is a recent family story you may not have known about?

The Dog Ate Your WHAT?

2011-06-08T23:35:00.000-04:00

Do you ever just know, just have a feeling, when someone has had a REALLY bad day?

Allow me to share:

Everyone knows I have dogs. When I last picked them up from the groomer here in Stamford, I walked in and the groomer had a REALLY bad day. I could just tell. Unshed tears littered the air.

In my usual cheery self, I asked, "How'd they do?"

"You're dogs were the bright spot in my day!" she says emphatically.

(Hint: This is known as foreshadowing.)

If you've ever met my dogs, you'd know they are very good dogs and I expect a lot of them. As with most dogs, mine, at times, can be somewhat of a handful. Especially if you touch their feet. A little. Or a lot. Which you do when grooming them. So you can see that a visit to the groomer has the potential to be less than their finest moment.

The groomer proceeded to tell me how she had two Weimaraners in for baths. If you don't know much about the breed, they are very large, active and require a great deal of attention and exercise. They have the nickname of the Grey Ghost.

"They were just too big," she cried. "Too much. I'd never had them in before. I should have known better. It's just me here by myself and I should have known what I was getting myself into," she lamented.

"What happened?" I asked tentatively.

"There was no cage big enough for them. I put them in the bathroom."

Uh huh.

At this point I'm thinking, "Oh they ate a roll of toilet paper and got sick" or something small like that. Mine eat toilet paper, napkins, paper towels all the time. Its their paper product fetish. If you don't remember how I fixed it, check back to this post.

"The sink. I thought it was secured to the wall. Its never been loose or anything like that. Never wiggled, nothing. They just ripped it off the wall and started to chew the porcelain. Then the pipes. And there was water spurting out everywhere. I had to call my husband to come turn the water off."

I looked past her and noticed the heaps of wet towels covering the floor.

Oh. My.

"They never got the bath. I have no water. I had to call the owner to come get them. She wanted to bring them back tomorrow and I told her no way, never again. The dogs thought it was a game; great fun for them to play in the water. She's just lucky I'm not charging her a damage fee."

This groomer is very nice and does great work. My dogs look superb. Apparently they were first in line that day. But every single time I pick them up, she has a story for me. This story, however, is the best one yet.

You're welcome.

Aspirations

2011-05-20T21:02:00.000-04:00

When I was younger, okay really not that much younger than I am now, only 15 years ago, I had grand aspirations. I mean GRAND in the biggest sense of the word.

Picture if you will...me, living in Dallas in the middle of the dot.com (or dot.bomb if you prefer) era, making a killing in the real estate market off all the retire-at-30-and-move-east-Silicon Valley-internet-start-up-kings, envisioning myself retiring by the age of 35 (because that's what all the dot.commers with successful IPO's were doing), owning my own, paid for home, driving my beautiful car, also paid for and using my time to study things of interest to me and volunteering.

Fast forward fifteen years and my aspirations have changed. I suppose this happens to everyone, but my internal wailing cries out "I never thought it could happen to me". ME! How could this happen to ME? (I know, overly dramatic and everyone says that at my age.)

My current aspirations include I want to have a job/career doing massage with flexible hours while I go to nursing school then hopefully transition to a career that encompasses both talents, own my own home or condo, have my car paid off and live in a location that suites me better than the northeast. I'm even getting the occasional, tiny tingling of "what would life be like if I had a baby?" Do I make this sound easy or what? Ahem.

Returning to reality, I seem to be stuck in a hole of stuck in the northeast, only being able to practice massage in three states, Texas, Nevada and Pennsylvania, none of which happen to be the states I reside. I would like to move to Florida because of the abundance of nursing programs, but the application for my massage license has been held up because of a problem with my school credentials. I applied February 2 and am still waiting for approval. Do I keep waiting and hoping the Florida massage license will come through? Move somewhere far away so it will be guaranteed it will be approved the very next day? (Wouldn't the Universe get a good laugh at that one?) Go, wait tables and go to nursing school there?

I also would love to live on the west coast again. Maybe its just nostalgia, but life, while still had problems, was much less complicated. I enjoyed small pleasures like visiting the library or aquarium. I was able to invite friends over to my home and just hang out. (The SO's sleeping patterns coupled with the fact that he works from the living/dining room doesn't make this possible.) I never, ever thought I could have problems of the likes of what I deal with now. I have lived in Nevada and could easily live there again. I was very near Lake Tahoe and loved it with all the beautiful mountains and amazing clarity of Lake Tahoe's waters. The downside of that one is there are only two nursing programs in the area.

I would love to move back to Seattle, but Washington requires more hours than I acquired for my massage license, so I wouldn't be able to practice massage. I would be in a place where I have a significant amount of friends and the culture deeply resonates with me. I loved the aquarium and Seattle has my all time favorite spiritual center, Center for Spiritual Living Seattle. Just going there makes me feel so empowered and full of life. It also has an abundance of nursing programs. The downside to Seattle is of course the long dark wet winters. Did I mention the dogs hate wet?

I know my aspirations are possible to make reality, I'm just having a hard time deciding how I want to play my cards on this one.

What are some of your aspirations? How have they changed over the years?

Blogger Tech Issue

2011-05-15T14:01:00.000-04:00

Is anyone else having problems with Blogger? On my last post I had six comments and they have all disappeared. Suggestions? Help?

Thanks in advance!

Like Attracts Like

2011-05-11T20:09:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I have posted, mostly because there has been so much mucky muck I didn't want to splash any on my readers. You're welcome.

As often happens with a perceived negative event, I work my way around the block in my thinking and figure out a new angle to view said events. Most things in life are really positive events but it can be difficult to see it at the time. My downfall is becoming so internalized in my processing that I forget to write, sing, dance, do yoga, be creative or all the other stuff that allows me to process faster. I also focus on giving my energy to the positive in an effort to attract more positive energy no matter how slow that process may be. I firmly believe that which we give our energy to grows in strength and attraction.

So....since I have last posted:

I started nursing school, had a cancer scare that included major surgery and missed so much school I was asked to leave. Sounds negative, but the positive is the school was good but by being asked to leave I was able to realize a neighborhood full of graffiti and gunshots wasn't the place for me to complete my nursing training. I now have the opportunity to choose a new school.

After a long job search and much meditation to increase my employment vibration, I had three job offers come in on the very same day. One waiting tables at a popular restaurant in Stamford, one working as a home health aide traveling in Stamford and surrounding areas and one for a massage therapist position in Dallas. After 5 months of searching, I am overwhelmed to say the least.

I am most drawn to the massage therapist position because I trained for a year to get my national certification then moved to Stamford, a place that unknown to me didn't recognize my license, and struggled with employment ever since. I also feel the massage therapy resonates most deeply with my personal beliefs and values. It would however require a $4000 move to have this career. Did you read that last word? Career, not just a job. That is a big one. Now I must ask myself, can I get over the things I don't like about Texas to compromise and have the career I want? Or even better, can I learn and grow to view them as positives?

My two beautiful fur-babies are doing well. One of them enjoys the snow which is great since Stamford had almost 100 inches of snow this past winter. I realized that taking them in and out by elevator is not my favorite thing. I have never minded living in apartments but I want to live in the style apartment where I can step outside to take them out for biz. So much easier!

In the bigger game plan is to move some place that has winters that are less harsh. It turns out Stamford has great summers, but overall is not my nirvana. And that is the beauty of it all, we are free to dream, try new things and if it doesn't work the way we planned, try something else. Not a bad life, eh?

So tell me something great that has happened to you, something you are pondering, or whatever you feel you'd like to get off your chest. And remember, like attracts like!

I Am NOT Drunk!

2011-02-28T08:35:00.000-05:00

oh...guess I should put down my beer then.

We actually watched this one take place in the Walgreens parking lot. No brakes, nothing. Just straight into the pole.

A passenger soon appeared with a case of water from inside the store. (Like that would help.)

While this was not very Nirvana-like, it was slightly amusing since no one got hurt coupled with the indignation of the man at the pole for being in his way. As if!

***Also posted at www.TheAisleFiles.com and Random Ramblings since I'm not sure where anyone reads anymore. (my fault for not keeping up with a new blog though.)

Staple in Power Port of MacBook?

2011-02-20T21:55:00.002-05:00

See this?

This is a staple in the magnetic port where the power cord goes on a MacBook. I have always loved this feature as it has saved the CrackBook many times from getting yanked off the coffee table, etc when the cord easily disconnects.

Now I hate myself for not figuring out sooner why my power cord suddenly stopped fitting.

The "Put Back Together" Team

2011-01-07T00:06:00.000-05:00

I remember it so clearly. It captured my attention immediately. The newspaper, normally reserved for Mom and Dad to read first, had the most captivating picture right there on the front page. That is what sells after all, right?

Captivating pictures? Especially pictures.

Not stories. Not words. People have to take the time to read words, but to glance at a picture and be so entranced, that sells papers.

I was maybe 10 at the time. I don't remember exactly, but we still lived in the Sweet Gum house. We called it that because we had a sweet gum tree in the yard and it was the name of the street. All this was meaningless to me; after all, wasn't gum supposed to be sweet?

The man in the photo was in a hospital bed and had been in a horrible motorcycle accident. Large chunks of skin ripped from his body. Bloody. Broken bones. Bad. Really bad.

I knew instantly I wanted to be part of it. Not the badness, you can find that anywhere. I wanted to be the goodness; one of the doctors or nurses that make it better. Put back the pieces as best as possible. Maybe even make them smile a little. That was what I wanted. To be part of the "put back together" team.

I tore that article from the paper and quietly took it to my room. I very carefully trimmed the ragged edges of the newspaper and hung it on my bulletin board. It was there for many years, sometimes covered over with other things that had been pinned up, but always there. And then one day it wasn't. I don't know what happened, maybe it got lost when we moved to a new house, maybe it was taken down because science isn't my strong point, but I never forgot how much I wanted that, to be part of the "put back together" team.

And now I am. I did it. I triumphed. Life can be hard. Lessons can be hard. Friends die. People move away. Cars get wrecked. Even lives get wrecked. And that too is part of the put back together team in some sense.

I am elated to say that after seven years of trying, getting frustrated, crying about how it just isn't fair, I did it.

I am one of them.

I've been accepted.

I will be an RN and can go as far as I want after that.

I've earned my CNA. I am a Reiki Master and a Nationally Licensed Massage Therapist. But nursing, doctoring, that is my thirst. My true calling where I will figure out how to mold all these lessons and letters and titles together to make someone else's life a little easier as I care for them.

Perseverance.

I start January 20. I did it.

It Was An Accident! I Swear!

2010-10-11T08:30:00.000-04:00

I killed my fish.

I know, so dramatic, right?

But this happened in the most unusual way, the kind of way you might find in "Weird News" or "Unbelievable Stories" sort of thing.

I am still unpacking, slowly but surely, the last box is near. I have finally reached the pictures. I decide I want to hang my Fun Size Schnauzer picture on the wall where I had previously hung a clock.

I reach up and lift the clock off the wall not noticing the nail it was hanging on came off the wall until I heard a tiny little splash.

"No biggie" I thought. I've been bitten by this particular fish before and its more of a "nip" than an actual "bite."

It was at that point that I realized there would be no "bite" or "nip" for the nail had stabbed him in his gut section. He floated, stunned, in his tiny beta tank. "Oh dear Gawd" I thought, "I can't believe I've killed a fish like this." I've killed them by not having the water the proper temperature or mix of conditioner but never by stabbing a fish to death.

For a split second I felt like one of the fisher(wo)man on Swords, seemed like such a violent show until this happened.

I guess I have a new attribute to add to the list. Fish Stabber.

Hummingbirds

2010-10-06T21:10:00.000-04:00

Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying our hopes for love, joy and celebration. The hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich beyond belief, beauty is everywhere, every personal connection has meaning no matter how small and that laughter is life's sweetest creation.

So hope, love, dream and laugh, really really laugh.

I Am Not A Dishwasher

2010-09-24T08:54:00.001-04:00

Some of you know from the post below that I have recently moved to a new apartment. The longer I live here, the more apparent it is becoming that I don't know how to live in my new apartment. I have called maintenance several times to have them come out and show me a very simple answer to my problem.

Like how to open a window. (There was a "secret" latch.)

By this point I'm sure they think I have never lived on my own. Most recently I called because the dishwasher wasn't working. If you know me (or have read previous posts from www.CrazySaysWhat.com), you know I don't wash dishes, I just throw them away because I am so disgusted by hand washing them.

Sidenote: Is this a cause and effect relationship between waiting tables for so many years?

The maintenance man comes and is very polite and cheerful, but you can tell he is tired of hearing about the oddities of this apartment.

"The dishwasher won't work," I tell him. I show him how I closed the latch all the way, pushed all the buttons for my settings and it simply wouldn't turn on.

"I'll show you a trick he says." He points to the switches on the wall. "This one is for your garbage disposal."

Okay, check, got it. Already knew that.

"And this one is for your dishwasher."

Huh?

He explains its so you can set the settings one time on the machine, then when you want to wash the dishes inside, you close the latch and flip the light switch on the wall.

Well okay then. I have never heard of this. I do not know anyone who has a dishwashing system like this. I begin to suspect that as the apartment was being built, the electrician forgot something so they are turning a mistake into a selling point.

Your thoughts?

Where Do I Live Again?

2010-09-21T07:44:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted, but trust me, that doesn't mean life hasn't been interesting, just too interesting for public consumption.

A quick story:

This past weekend I moved. I know, I know, I've done it so many times they should give me a degree for it. A Masters. A Doctorate. Something big.

Anyway, I worked all day while S.O. moved the apartment (including dogs, fish, plants...you know, all my treasured items) to our new apartment. Just to clarify, this means that when I went to work at 11am, I left from address "A" and I came home to address "B" at 11:00pm that night.

I pull into my way-too-tiny-for-my-liking space, that I'm not completely sure actually is my parking space, and go to the elevator. Which is broken. Which means I'm taking the stairs. No biggie, it happens.

I trudge up a few flights of stairs, come into the hallway and put my key in the lock. The key goes in smooth as glass, but won't turn.

It's okay I tell myself. It's a brand new, freshly cut key. I jiggle it a little thinking maybe it was one of those keys you have to very carefully not push in quite all the way. I wiggle, jiggle, pray, get angry and almost start to cry. I have worked hard. I've been on my feet ALL DAY. I'm tired. I want to sit and take my shoes off. I want to see my fur babies.

After about 15 minutes of this I start to bang on the door, "S.O. let me in, my key doesn't work!" "Hey, let me in!"

I don't hear the dogs. Ah, he's out walking the dogs. How sweet! Which means he'll be back any second and I can get inside. So I take my shoes off and wait. I try the key a few more times.

Finally, I get really upset. I start batshit crazy pounding on the door and yelling S.O. LET ME IN MY KEY WON'T WORK.

At this point, I hear a voice from the other side of the door. A lady's voice.

"Please go away. There is no one here by that name. You're really scaring me." says the voice which sounds as though it's likely holding a butcher's knife from the kitchen.

I look up at the apartment number and notice something.

I don't live on this floor. This is the correct last two digits of the apartment number but the wrong floor.

Oh dear GAWD, I've been scaring this poor woman to death thinking there is someone trying to break into her apartment.

I go up to the apartment that actually is mine and low and behold, the key works. Perfectly.

*I left her a note the next day explaining my mistake.

Target Cart Mystery

2010-03-18T06:51:00.001-04:00

This probably belongs on The Aisle Files, but what I posted there today
is too funny to take down.

So, this morning I woke up and there was no coffee.

I'll let that sink in for a minute. If you know me well or have ever lived with me (which would also mean you know me well) you know that being out of coffee is a majorly ginormous deal. Like it would send you sprinting to the store in your bare feet and pajamas (if you were wearing any) kind of big deal.

Upon the realization of the disaster, I drove to the store as fast as I could, only running 2 red lights in the three blocks it took to get there. (It was 6am, I could see there were no cars or pedestrians!)

The store I went to is called "Stop and Shop" which seems to be a popular store here in Connecticut. When I entered the store, not that I needed a cart, but I couldn't help but notice that there were seven carts from Target.

This would not be so ironic except that Target is at least five miles away. My coffee deprived brain was not able to process why the Target carts would be at Stop and Shop, so I'm leaving it up to my (four?) ever faithful readers to tell me why they may have been there.

Ready? Tell me a good story/answer. GO!

G.A.G. Syndrome

2010-03-11T05:51:00.000-05:00

I think I have GAG syndrome or at least that's what I'm calling it. You know how it is, the Grass (is) Always Greener.

So here I am in Stamford, having had many challenging experiences and wondering if this really is my Empowerment City USA, ie, the place I belong. I have learned to be even stronger than I imagined and that's a great thing. I have learned to hold my head high in the face of defeat, not cry when I really wanted to and when its ok to (in the privacy of my own living room) have a knock-down-screaming-crying -my-eyes-out kind of fit.

I am fully aware that no matter where you go, there you are. It's like looking in a mirror, you will always be there...unless it's one of those crazy fun house mirrors, well, then that's not really the same.

Those that know me know I believe in Karma, past lives and being presented with lessons in this life time that will benefit us and make us stronger for our next lifetime.

Having said that, I'll say Connecticut has me WAY caught up in the lessons department for now. Universe? Can I just plateau for a while?

Since being here I found out my National Massage License didn't transfer to the state of Connecticut because they do massage licensing their own way.

Their way requires me to go back to school for another 18 months, pay an additional $20,000 and ideally be happy about it, but at minimum not be angry about it.

Knowing the Universe was sending me a message, I immediately shifted gears and applied to nursing schools in the area with the "area" being defined as the entire state. I was not accepted into three of them for my Microbiology score and the one I was accepted into, an LPN program largely funded by the state, was shut down two days later by the Governor Jody Rowl.

Again shifting gears and money running even lower than before, I took a quick 5 week CNA class from the Red Cross and completed it this week. Great right? Except I can take my test for the state license for another 8 weeks.

Oh, also I apparently did something that pissed my Biological father off so bad he will barely speak to me except to tell me what an awful person I am and how I ruined everything in our relationship by moving to Connecticut because now its too far for him to drive and see me. When I didn't have the money to come visit him for Thanksgiving shortly after the move, he went ape shit telling me with extreme sarcasm he was sorry he wasn't good enough for me to come up with $800 to make the trip and "really if you think about it this speaks volumes about the kind of person I really am and I'm not really good enough for him either". So, yeah, there's that. I am not sorry. I am more happy to have tried and know who he is than to have never tried at all.

So here I am, gorgeous weather, loving the physical surroundings of Stamford, yet not able to make a living to feel like I can stay here. I love the trees here, the actual four seasons, the cute little shops I can't afford to spend even a penny in as well as all the restaurants I want to try. I chose Stanford thinking I would be able to go to NYC whenever I wanted but that reality is I can't even afford the train ticket to get there. Am I sad to have moved here? No, because at least I tried and I know I gave it my all.

If you've hung in there with me for this long, I do want to say this, every place is good for something. Here my meditation skills have become even stronger, my Reiki more powerful, my resolve to make an outstanding life for myself (wherever that may be) unshakable. My pain in my leg is drastically reduced and I can finally walk normally again after the help of a wonderful Doctor here that I would have otherwise never found.

I often think why did I ever move here? My National license was granted (the very day I was run over by a car; how's that for irony?) and was going to be able to make some great money. I had a gorgeous one bedroom townhome I adored with almost 1000sq ft at a fantastic price that I traded for less than half that in square feet and more than double the rent. Sure in Dallas the summers were so hot it would melt the rubber right off your flip flops. The winters were just "less hot". Here I really do love having four distinct seasons.

So I ask you this, do I have a severe case of G.A.G. Syndrome and need to keep working harder to find the good here? Or should I thrown in the towel and move back to Dallas where I have several clients, many friends through massage, and earn a living there?

Who Loves Puppies?

2010-01-10T13:14:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a while since I've posted, but I've finally put together something cute up over at Who's Your Dachshund's Wiener Free Weekends.

I left it up to Morgan to tell you what it's like to move across the country. Being that she is mouthy to begin with, trust me, you don't want to miss this one!

Cute photos too! So go, go now!

I Think It May Be Time To Put Down the Crack

2009-12-02T08:54:00.000-05:00

Here's why:

This morning I was in that fuzzy dream/wake stage and somehow combined my dream with what was happening in my bed.

(ohhh, sounds kinda dirty, huh?) (well, it was, just not dirty like you are thinking)

I was dreaming my little furkid Morgan was eating blackbirds. She was staring right at me with blackbirds coming out of her mouth and trying to throw up.

In this fuzzy stage I grabbed Morgan, ran into the kitchen with her and started shaking her over the kitchen sink, trying to get her to vomit the blackbirds because I was worried she would choke on the bones.

I finally woke up, realized what I was doing, set her down and she promptly vomited on the floor (not blackbirds, just regular dog junk).

We both stared at each other and got back in bed.

Here's what I've got:

Blackbird- an omen of something to come
Schnauzer- a faithful friend
Vomit-no clue

Summary? I may need a therapist.

*photo credit to Seattle Weekly
**new postings at Aisle Files

An Unfortunate Mispronounciation

2009-12-01T09:08:00.000-05:00

As many know, I have been applying to nursing schools. One of them finally called me back today.

ME: Hello, this is Vanessa

Admissions Adviser: This is _____ calling from Bullet Heaven.

ME: Uhhhh, what?

AA: You called askin about our nursin program?

ME: Oh yes, Bullard Haven!

AA: Right! That's what I said, Bullet Heaven.

ME: I'm sorry, I have to go now. Thanks for calling. (As I crossed that one off my list of possibilities.

While this may turn out to be a very good program, anything pronounced "Bullet Heaven" is just not for me.

And This Is How I Wound Up In An Ambulance For No Real Reason

2009-11-30T09:19:00.000-05:00

On Thanksgiving evening, I came home to 4 firetrucks, approximately 50 firefighters, the fire chief and two ambulances in front of my building with the fire sirens blaring.

I tried to get into my parking garage, they wouldn't let me.

There was no street parking since it was all blocked with such large, loud noisy vehicles, so I drove up the hill and parked at Heidi's place. (Thanks Heidi!)

I came back down the hill and begged the firemen to let me into the building, my precious babies were in there.

They wouldn't let me.

The firemen did tell me the apartment on fire was four doors down from mine. FOUR DOORS DOWN FROM MINE! If we could pick a moment in time, this would be when hysteria took over.

"Please help me! Please help me!" I started begging of any fireman who would listen. "I will give you $5000, the title to my car, all my jewelry, whatever you want, just please please please go get my babies!"

They all kept telling me to stay calm, I would be fine.

"I AM NOT FINE! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT? I AM ANYTHING BUT FINE RIGHT NOW!"

I have no idea where that outburst came from, but apparently, it gets you put into an ambulance immediately. I tried to pull my shit together, realizing what was about to happen.

Apparently I didn't do so great when they asked me what I wanted and my response was an adamant "FURKIDS! NOW!"

sidenote: do they put the pulse ox pincher on everyone's fingers?

Next they come at me with the oxygen mask. "No" I started yelling, "I don't need any oxygen!" which I instantly realized was the most wrongest answer I could have given.

"I'm going now" I announced and tried to get out of the ambulance. They held me in place. (Is there some sort of strength requirement for this job? Or am I just weak?)

After a little more calming down, the fire being put out, I signed the terror forms saying I was taking my life into my own hands by not going to the hospital and they let me go.

Once upstairs (holy hell, that was a lot of stairs) I was reunited with my furbabies, the night got better, instantly.

Has anyone ever been through something like this?

**new stuff at Aisle Files

Is There a 12 Step Program for This?

2009-11-18T07:22:00.000-05:00

In the past year I have spent over $200 in headsets for my precious CrackBerry.

This is evidence of the most recent purchase made just about 3 months ago.

I am so very careful with every other item I have purchased or have been lucky enough to be given as a gift.

Headsets however seem to be repulsed by me. The corded ones seem to find their way dangling in the car door as it get closed. The Bluetooth get the ear piece snapped off, don't work well as far as staying put, or no one can hear me.

Then there were the few that were eaten by the dog. I just considered the few Karma points cashed in for exchange of vet bills and the loss of a headset to be "getting off easy". You see, I have what you call the ten dollar dog and the ten thousand dollar dog. You can guess which one loves headsets. Ahem.

So, any suggestions for a new headset for me?

Discoveries of Late

2009-11-17T04:01:00.000-05:00

First, I just wanted to say thank you for the support on the recent nurse experience at the hospital. Glad to hear I'm not the only one who thinks writing a letter is a good idea. I'll keep you posted.

It's amazing what you find out by simply asking. I'll share a few of these:

Through the answers on Twitter, it has been established that a white shirt or white sweater is acceptable after Labor Day. Pants? The jury seems to still be out on that one. Pshaww, like I would ever white pants to begin with. I think we can just call that one a closed subject.

There is, not far from here, a piece of architecture called the Glass House. It has been debated whether the architectural plans were from Frank Lloyd Wright's apprentice and it was taken and built after his death. I'm trying to get a reservation to go see it but so far they are reserved out to mid December. I'm still very excited because I adore Frank Lloyd Wright buildings. This seems to be under dispute, can anyone clarify?

I have applied to three different nursing programs and it looks like I have a very good shot at acceptance to the one I like the most. (SQUEEE!)

I'm loving exploring (when I feel up to it) now that I have the Garmin. I'm going to declare it the next best thing second to the internet.

One of the fabulous ladies I had the pleasure of finally meeting and hanging out with at BlogHer this past year, moved up here from Washington, DC. We were both super excited and even more-so when we found out the building she and her husband moved into is directly behind my building. It feels a little Seinfeld-ey, but we are both loving every minute of it.

They do indeed sell raw meat dog food around here, you just have to know who to ask.

Observation of my own: The drivers here are crazy. Like wear-a-helmet-in-your-own-car crazy drivers.

Recent observation you've come up with?

Stamford Hospital- Mini Review

2009-11-16T04:37:00.000-05:00

As most of you know, I've been in the hospital most of last week with an epidural that had a general result that fell short of my expectations. It helped some but I'm still on crutches and I might be a little bitter because on Monday (okay, I am), just as they got the epidural to the level where I was getting some relief (5 ml per liter), Jay, the night nurse, who came on shift at 7pm:

cut the epidural from 5 to a 2
then cut my percocet from 10 mg to 5 mg
then he refused to give me any of my other regular medication like klonopin which I had not had since much earlier in the morning
wouldn't give me the neurontin (for nerve pain)
and said there was no reason for me to be on trazadone ( a sleep medication without the potential effects of Ambien) therefore he wouldn't give it.

I asked him to call the doctor and he refused saying "I don't want to call him and make him mad. Call him yourself, because I don't want him be mad at me, but if you don't mind him getting mad and you and want to take the chance, go ahead." As we all know, it is inappropriate to give a patient the home number of a doctor. Then he came back and told me as a "special favor to me" he called the doctor and told him all the rates of the medication and the doctor told Jay, the nurse, it was fine. This is appaling for a surgical floor of the hospital when patients are predictably a great amount of pain.

Two things, the doctor is a female and when she saw me the next morning during rounds she was upset by what this nurse had done and said that he had given her different information. She put in an order to immediately move the epidural rate up to 8 to be graduated up to 12 by the end of the day. This didn't work as far as decreasing my pain and I just wanted to cry in frustration. When you are in pain 24/7 with no period of relief, I cannot explain how horrible it is and how I can see the logic in suicide. NOT that I am suicidal, but how that can seem like a feasible option to some.

Because of the surge in pain between 7pm Monday night continuing through to the next morning at 8am, it was never brought back down to a workable level and she would have to replace the epidural because it had become displaced. The epidural was turned off at this point. VERY upsetting.

I meet with her Monday and we are trying to get another approval from the insurance company to have a second chance which we all know how easy that can be especially when it's a subrogated claim.

So that's all about me, tell me something fun or exciting that happened for you recently?

What It's Like to Find a Birth Parent

2009-11-10T15:04:00.000-05:00

This beautifully written piece was sent to me by my Biological Father's wife. It eloquently sums up the emotional dance that takes place when a child reunites with a biological parent.

Part One:

The journey through reunion is not unlike traveling to a foreign country where one doesn't speak the language or know the customs. Immersion into a new culture presents adjustments to climate, food, clothes, mannerisms and social rules. The experience carries imagined "should haves" that are markedly different from the often awkward reality.

Reunions hold the possibility of joy, hope and healing. These expectations and their resulting grief, however, can lead to misunderstanding, hurt and confusion. Each person must learn to adapt to the other's–as well as their own—perplexing, vacillating emotional changes. Each person must rise to the challenge of bridging the lost years as well as possible. We are severed from—but profoundly bonded to--each other. We come together as "Familiar Strangers." Familiar in many ways because of the inherent genetic traits that are expressed in physical and emotional mannerisms and thoughts and actions.

Unfamiliar in as many ways because each person has survived the sudden, abrupt truncation of a primary relationship. Each has developed different coping styles within the context of their own unique life path.

What happens? Why and How Can we Overcome the Challenges?

Traveling between the familiar and the unfamiliar requires resilience because the traveler will experience the roller coaster effects of elation/deflation as pent up emotions and years of buried grief and anger begin to spew forth. It is important to recognize that reunion is an intensely emotional, highly complex and unique phenomenon.

Emotions are energy in motion, they are the tools of growth and serve to warn, protect and teach us about ourselves and the presenting situation/relationship.

What happens when these worlds converge? One must learn to read between the lines. Be an observer of subtle cues, allow the other person to move at her/his own pace, put aside needs and expectations and "musts" for the reality of what it is. We need to develop an understanding and appreciation of one another's cultural and lifestyle differences.

Reunion emotions are high and conflicting feelings such as: joy. sorrow, anxiety, impatience, fear, anger and bewilderment. The person entering into a reunion is shifting gears from being a searcher with some measure of control, to a totally unknown situation, craving acceptance but anticipating rejection. The seat of the power now shifts to the contacted party. The searcher now must transition from the fantasies that filled the years of void and longing to stark reality.

Search is usually initiated by a strong internal drive to resolve the original issue of separation and loss (adoption). One thirsts to resolve unanswered questions. The emotional pressure to come full circle sustains what is often an arduous journey. The searcher's momentum increases as information is gathered. The emotional pressure to connect continues to escalate, while other life routine issues and obligations may be neglected because the searcher's focused journey is toward the truth, and he or she is expending a lot of emotional energy defending the need to search.

The searcher is not unlike a truck traveling 90 m.p.h.. The person who is found and who has not yet moved toward undertaking the search is taken by surprise and does not have this momentum. When these two different energies meet an emotional collision occurs. The searcher can barely slow down, while the person found can barely gasp for air, for the wind has been knocked out of them. They need time to adjust and may have concerns about the meaning behind the contact There may be stress regarding the implications of meeting and forming this new relationship.

Each party is bewildered by the other's actions. Each has different needs. One may be well versed in adoption issues with adoption, having support group exposure, ~while the other may not have even begun to contemplate adoption and reunion issues. Both parties have set their roles, rules and emotional commitments to others in their lives.

So many feelings flood forward, there may be bouts of crying or free-floating anger as these feelings flood forth. There is chaos and confusion. How can one be filled with such joy, anger, sadness. frustration, indifference, disappointment, fear and elation simultaneously?

Our identities are challenged. We will NEVER be the same as we were before contact. Issues of loyalty to respective primary relationships may impede the ability to enfold the other party. One's previous history of loss, coping skills, ability to identify and verbalize feelings, and capacity to mourn affect the person's ability to empathize and relate to one another. Perception about the adoption experience--shame/openness, conditions during the pregnancy, success of integrating the adoption experience, issues of inadequacy-- all impact the manner in which the reunion may unfold. It is a process that often leaves those involved bewildered and exhausted.

I will post part two tomorrow.

**New offerings at Aisle Files.

Day One-Not Pain Free

2009-11-09T19:01:00.000-05:00

Upon arrival and a multitude of trees worth of paperwork, I was taken back to a room where I was graciously presented with a gown, opening in back, four times too large for me. The bathrobe to go over it was approximately the size for a small child. This gives the look of a scarecrow complete with all the extra fabric sticking out of every opening of the bathrobe. Gee, I forgot my broom or whatever a scarecrow holds in one hand.

I am then asked if I have dentures. People, I am 33 years old and while I have had an adventurous life, I wouldn't say its been "hard" or I've ever lived on the streets, had fights or anything necessitating dentures.

fast forward a few hours

My Back now looks like this:
Yeah, this epidural thing pretty much covers my whole back. However, I'm in full agreement of not letting anything slide in or out of my spine.

I am awake and back in my room to find two pairs of skid socks, baby wipes, (two) soap trays, listermint, toothbrush, kidney pan, teeny tiny tissues and well hello there, this is like checking into the Sheraton!

Where's my mini bar?

I also seem to be missing my chocolates. Too bad I have so many wires, strings and hoses, or I'd look for them.

The pain is still present and accounted for and hopefully will be titrated to a higher level of medication tomorrow. Very tired and that's all I can give you for today.

Immense gratitude for all the well wishes and good energy, prayers and love sent my way. Even from afar, it's very comforting. Thank you.

Easily Amused

2009-11-08T21:33:00.000-05:00

Today as I was running a few last minute errands, I was sitting in the car finishing a phone call. I noticed two ladies admiring my car. As I got out of the car, the following conversation occurred.

Two Ladies: Wow! That is such a nice car! It's just beautiful!

Me: Thank you. I've really enjoyed having it.

TL: It's just SO PRETTY! You are so lucky!

Me: "I think so too!" and brought them around to show them my license plate (fortunate) and the frame, Attitude of Gratitude.

TL: It's just amazing, such a beautiful car with the perfect license plate. This really is the nicest car I've ever seen!

Me: Again, thank you. I really need to get inside though.

TL: Oh oh, before you go, can I ask one question?

Me: Sure, go ahead.

TL: Where did you get it? I've been thinking about a new car.

Me: (somewhat flabbergasted) Umm, the Volkswagon dealership.

TL: Really?

Me: Yeah, that's what they sell there is Volkswagons, so it seemed the most logical place to look.

I turn to go inside only to hear them saying behind me, "You know, she really had a good idea there!"

Oops! I Did It Again!

2009-11-07T16:39:00.000-05:00

I forgot my Blogoversary! It was October 14. I find this somewhat ironic considering I started the blog in October, the month that has been my lightest posting month for 3 years now. Next year, someone remind me, okay?
**Image credit to webweaver.nu

Remember When You Were A Kid?

2009-11-06T08:50:00.001-05:00

There was always something in the movies you wanted to try at home. Maybe everyone but me has already done this given that I grew up in Dallas where the trees are as tall as my knees, but yesterday I made it my own memory.

First we started with this, which is actually much larger than it looks. Think the size of three small cars:

Then falling backward, moved on to this:

I wiggled out, trying to make the pose of the chalk outline the police use. Yes, I know my arm was wrong:
And finished with this:

Lessons learned:

Again, don't play in the street with traffic.
Leaves are much more giving than one might think. I sank quite a ways as displayed in the picture above.
Leaves are VERY itchy.
You will get tree sap on your coat and hair.
Making memories you wished from childhood is always worth it as long as no one gets hurt.

Oh It's Just A Little Swine (or RSD)

2009-11-05T21:31:00.000-05:00

I know many have been injured at some point in their life and can relate to the questioning from strangers. I feel like telling the perfect strangers who walk up to me and feel entitled to an explanation of what happened to my leg that I have swine flu, anthrax, kicked the last person who asked me that question or was bit by a shark. Strangers have done this in restaurants, the grocery store, gas station, elevators and the the doctors office as though we should be trading war stories.

As soon as people hear I was hit by a car, they feel the need to give their opinion on what I should be doing treatment wise, who I should be using as my attorney, WHY I should have an attorney and what medications I should be taking. If not any of those, they want to tell me about how they were injured once and it was exactly the same.

Frankly? I'm sick of it. REALLY sick of it.

These are complete strangers who I will likely never see again in my life. Family and friends I don't mind the questions when they are sincere. The lecturing from anyone I will always mind. I am 33 years old. I am perfectly capable of making a decision on my own. It's as though my opinion about my body disappears once the soapbox has been taken. If you were actually in my postion and had been the one hit by a car, then fine, do what you are telling me you would do "if I were you". If I want your opinion, I will ask or initiate a conversation about what should I do about _fill in the blank here_.

I realize that most strangers don't mean any harm by asking. They are merely curious or just trying to make conversation. When I say, "I'd prefer not to talk about it because it brings back a painful memory for me" and they can't let it go at that, I feel like letting the bitch in me run free.

When I tell them what actually happened and the automatic response of "No way!" or "Are you serious?" comes out sometimes I just tell them "No, I just make shit up to entertain people" but they usually don't even hear me or don't catch what I've said.

I have Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy as a result of being hit by a car. I have healed well with the exception of my ankle. I am on rigorous medication therapy that most days leaves me sapped of energy. I do my best to keep a positive outlook knowing this is critical when it comes to healing and being one of the lucky few who have RSD go into remission and stay that way.

I am going to give in and go into the hospital for a week long epidural in hopes that it will reset the nerve pathways causing them to react normally to stimulus such as touch, pressure or even wind blowing on my leg. I am not writing this for sympathy but just needed to vent.

If you have been injured, what are some of the snappy comebacks you came up with to deal with the questioning when you just didn't feel like answering? Please...take the stage.

A Quick But Amusing Story

2009-11-04T08:39:00.000-05:00

One of the very first nights living in Empowerment City, USA I realized quite late that I needed coffee creamer. I have a strong preference for Sugar Free Hazelnut Creamer from Nestle/CoffeeMate. “Strong” meaning if you don’t have that particular creamer, forget the coffee.

Also? Me without coffee = disaster.

Using the combination of Garmin and Google, I could only come up with one grocery/convenience store open at midnight.

*sidenote: Why does everyone go to bed so early here? And why isn’t there a 24 grocery store?

Under the command of Garmin, I drove and drove until I found the one store still open. I may have been in Canada, but I’m not sure.

I see some people inside acting strangely and wait in my car until they left. They were acting strangely as though they may have been contemplating a robbery or something.

They leave and I go in and am immediately greeted by a 20 something Caucasian male, wild eyed and hair to match. The first words out of his mouth:

Youreadyyet?/Youreadyyet?/Youreadyyet?/Youreadyyet?

“Uh, no” I replied. I just wanted some creamer and a Sunday paper.

Wecan’tsellthat!/Wecan’tsellthat!/Wecan’tsellthat!

Wild eyed and busy filling the soda machine with ice; I ignore him to look for my creamer.

They don’t have any. They just have the tiny creamer containers you would put in your coffee right there in the store.

It is NOT sugar free.

I decide this will suffice and grab four of them noticing Mr. Wild Eyes is getting more agitated by the minute.

“Is it ok if I buy these creamers and a Sunday paper?” I ask.

Nononononononono! Wedontsellthose/Wedon’tsellthose/Wedon’tsellthose! Itsforthecofeecoffeecoffeecoffee!

“I know,” I said. “I just wanted to buy a few to have in my coffee tomorrow.”

Youcanbuycoffeenownownownow!

“I don’t want coffee now, I just wanted to buy these four creamers to put in my coffee tomorrow,” I repeated.

Youreadyyetyoureadyyetyoureadyyet?

I went over to the newsstands and not seeing a Sunday paper, asked if he had any Sunday papers yet.

NO! But I’ll sell you an early edition and we’ll call it Sunday. It will be our secret but you can’t tell anyone. I mean NO ONE!

He then comes at me with a box cutter knife and I realize (yes, I was a little slow on the uptake, but I had just moved all day and was exhausted) he might not be the most mentally stable person to be handling box cutters. He continues toward me and I am backing up on my crutches as fast as I can. He’s coming fast and at the last second, flips the knife toward the newspapers.

He slices off the front page of the paper, puts the remains in a bag and says, “oursecretoursecretoursecret!”

“Yes, of course,” I reply gently, “Our secret.”

Youreadyyetyoureadyyetyoureadyyet?

“Yes, quite” I say making my way to the register.

Youreadyyetyoureadyyetyoureadyyet?

I put the four creamers on the counter along with my dissected Sunday/”Early edition” paper. I reach into my purse to pay and he is very agitated, moreso than before and says, “I already told you! Can'tsell/can'tsell/can'tsell/can'tsell!”

“So I don’t owe any money,” I asked inquisitively.

Can'tsell/can'tsell/can'tsell/can'tsell!

“Ok, I hear you,” I said. So just to be sure, I don’t owe any money?

I immediately move to the next register, wanting out as soon as possible.

“Ok, how much?” I said brightly.

"You can’t pay for these!" I already told you, "can’t sell!"

I pick up the bag and pushing the door open as best as I can, said once again, “So we’re all square money wise?”

Wild eyed, he ruffles his hair and screams, “JUST LEAVE!”

I get into my car as fast as I can and feel horrible for thinking the people inside before me may have been thinking about a robbery. They were probably just as freaked out as I was by this guy.

Thinking about it on my way home, I arrive at the assumption he needed medication, was off his medication or had not been diagnosed at this point with whatever malady he suffers from.

I also realized I was lucky to be driving home and nothing bad happened but thought it a sad situation for this person.

What would you have done?

This Took About Two Minutes

2009-11-03T09:43:00.000-05:00

The one and only piece of new furniture that she is not allowed on, and yet she looks like she is smiling she is so proud of herself. How do they know these things? Do kids do this too?

Please tell me I'm not the only one?

A Dream Interpreted

2009-11-02T08:01:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a dream about buying a bed with a wooden frame. (This doesn’t surprise me since I have been looking for bedroom furniture since selling mine in Texas.) I was gathered around a table at a church in the afternoon with approximately five other people drinking coffee (some of them bloggie friends I have never met. Dodi, you are one of these people)

We were all putting in “orders” for these used wooden beds that seemed brand new. Each person was giving $7 to ensure the purchase of the bed.

Coffee-stands for persevering energy; that which enriches one’s motivations

Bed-cautions against overdoing, a need for rest

Wood-signifies nature or the outdoors; fuel or an input to a process

Money- stands for riches, paper money stands for “opportunities” to share wealth

Table- pertains to an element of support and convenience

Church- indicates type of spiritual connection and quality of same

Seven- signifies a high spiritual attainment

I feel like I'm right on track for what I'd like to see in my future. Do you ever have dreams that stick with you for a while?

I'm Doing It!

2009-11-01T10:35:00.000-05:00

This year I am once again attempting NoBloPoMo. By a show of hands, who's with me?

Ok, well, be that way.

Now that I'm here in Empowerment City USA, I'm loving it. I have a lot to say. I also have been told from several bloggie friends that "someone in Dallas really wants to find you and lands on my blog page multiple times a day" which makes me (and them) uncomfortable. I'm sorry to all of you. I don't know what to say. Block them if you can, but I'm not sure how to do that myself.

I want to blog. It's my outlet, my support if you will. I want to say what's on my mind. I don't want to have to censor anymore. I'm sick of not speaking my 100% truth but rather, a watered down version of it, remembering to tip toe around the overly-sensitive feelings of my family. I have done this so much of my life. When I moved away to the west coast I grew into the essence of who I really am and loved the person I saw in the mirror.

Then I moved to NYC and was convinced to move back to Dallas with false promises and the like. That girl who was scared of the wrath came back shortly after moving. It was so much easier to nod and smile. And each time a little piece of me died inside. That girl? She's leaving, steadily being pushed out and away. There is no room for meek or weak.

Now that I'm here in EPC, USA and loving it, I want to get back to that person I used to love.

I love myself now, but that other person? She was so much cooler. She had spunk that people admired. She said what she thought while being mindful of others feelings, but she always said what she really thought. There was no tongue holding or not rocking the boat. She was diplomatic and honored herself by staying true to her thoughts and opinions.

That girl? Is coming back with a vengeance.

So I will keep sharing more as I go through NoBloPoMo. Thanks to all who keep checking on me, cheering me on, boosting me up when I fall. I love each and every one of you for it and appreciate you more than you know.

**new stuff at Aisle Files

Happy Halloween

2009-10-30T02:59:00.000-04:00

This may be as close to a "family" portrait as I may ever get, without anyone getting eaten that is!

Be safe this weekend!

Question to Ponder

2009-10-29T08:05:00.000-04:00

If you knew no fear, what would you do?

(photo credit to www.airliebeaches.com)

Found My Keyboard!

2009-10-28T08:28:00.000-04:00

Hey there! Welcome back everyone. I finally found my way out of the boxes and am ready to blog again.

So the apartment is looking great and I have a quick story for you.

While recently picking up a prescription from the pharmacy, the pharmacy tech asked me if I would like to add a flu vaccine to my order.

I answered “No thank you.”

She then asked if I would like to add H1N1 (swine flu) vaccine to my order.

I answered “No thanks.”

Her final question: “Would you like to add a pneumonia vaccine to your order?”

I answered “No,” becoming slightly amused and irritated by the amount of vaccines offered while picking up a simple prescription.

She looks at me and says huffily, “Well I’m outta vaccines and you are out of patience! Debit or credit!”

My first thought while laughing was, “What great blog fodder!”

New offerings at Aisle Files too. Check it out!

*photo credit to fresh2defsheis.wordpress.com and hartroadanimalhospital.com

Can I Just Say How Much I Love It Here?

2009-10-27T09:50:00.000-04:00

He seems happy too. Now that I am finally getting caught up, how is everyone? What did I miss?

Fire Marshall Bill Says:

2009-10-07T10:54:00.000-04:00

Never, ever block your only point of egress even if it is unpacking day. Ahem.

Selling My Autograph Where?

2009-10-02T10:28:00.000-04:00

Last night as I was checking into the Motel, I filled out all the usual paperwork. The man at the window did not quite understand my car license plate. (FOR2N8) (Fortunate)

I explained what it said. He asked what it meant. I let the conversation die there.

I signed my forms, he wanted to know why in the world I would want to leave Dallas, being that it was so close to Austin. He obviously doesn't know his geography and I pointed out that Austin, while a great town, is actually a 3.5 hour drive from Dallas.

His response?

"Yup! Just right around the corner!

He asked me to sign the final form and then he takes it back from me and tells me he will sell it on Ebay.

"Wait wait wait!" I said. "Do you know who I am?" I said jokingly.

He said, "Doesn't matter to me, I just sell them in bulk. Someone will get a hidden gem."

While he was quite entertaining, I was so glad to drop into bed after unloading the animals, computers, entertainment electronics and suitcase from the car.

Tally Ho!

One Year Ago...

2009-09-30T10:16:00.000-04:00

Shamelessly stolen from Jenny who blogs at Consciousness Confusion who took it from The English Clergyman.

One year ago:

I had just started my path to gaining my National Massage License.

I had not yet become certified in Raindrop Technique, an aromatherapy session that focuses on balancing the Chakras using specific essential oils.

I learned that when the dogs lick the same spot on the carpet, you should check it out instead of thinking the dog is slightly neurotic. Then throw away the pumpkin decomposing on the counter.

I hadn't even started thinking about making a huge move that will change my life in so many ways and taking the huge leap of faith that goes along with it.

I had yet to meet my biological Father, who has forever changed my life.

I was still speaking to my Mother, half brother and adopted Dad here in Dallas and had not yet been accused of many things including identity theft.

I had not yet reconnected with an old friend who always has a special place in my heart.

I hadn't started my other two blogs, The Aisle Files and Make A Move.

Its amazing to look back and see how much my life has changed over the past year and how much I have grown emotionally and spiritually. Not to brag, but I am quite proud of myself.

What are you proud of that you've changed about yourself in the past year?

Maps (Not the Song by Yeah Yeah Yeahs)

2009-09-29T09:46:00.001-04:00

Way back ~~in the dark ages~~ when I started driving, this was the map I used to navigate my way around the US. I do indeed mean navigate the US. I took myself on so many road trips (and Mom just thought I was spending the weekend working!) using this map. I think the farthest I traveled was about 470 miles.

Sidenote: I am an expert map folder.

Next, I started using this for maps. When Andy and I met, he gave me a BlackBerry as my "Welcome to New York City" present along with a NFT (Not For Travelers) book. Anyone within 10 feet of me knows how I feel about my BlackBerry, as in the greatest thing EVAH next to the internet. (Shhhh, I was still on dial up back then too.) Look at the techie monster that was created! Oh, the Google maps application says never to use it while driving. Well, duh! When else would you use it?

Then, years later after my first BlackBerry encounter, I met my Biological Dad. He is the greatest and let me tell you....being a "Daddy's Girl" doesn't suck. He gifted me this, and since it's arrival, I don't think I've even gone to the post office without the Garmin directing me along the way. She just has such a pleasant voice calling out the directions so far ahead of time, although I do admit to getting slightly confused when I'm listening to NPR and using it at the same time. Also? It says do not use while driving. WTF? When else would you use this?

Something tells me today I will be using all three to make my way across the country.

What is your favorite form of navigation? Is there some other wonder product I should know about?

Moving Moving Moving

2009-09-28T17:35:00.000-04:00

Its amazing how hard it can be to get rolling when you are trying to move. I am beginning to think Dallas is some sort of black hole, strange magnetic force over me not allowing me to leave. Like the song goes, "you can check out any time you like but you can never leave."

It seems like there is just one more thing to do, one last thing to clean, one extra item that needs to be dealt with before you can go.

Then I remembered its Mercury Retrograde and all of this makes sense. The retrograde ends tomorrow and I know I'll be rolling by then if not sooner. I'll report in as I make progress. Right now my progress is glacially slow.

In the mean time check out The Aisle Files for something weird, strange and funny.

Welcome!

2009-09-23T13:50:00.000-04:00

Come in, have a seat and stay a while. Coffee or tea anyone?

This blog is all about changing direction and creating what I want to see in my life. I don't want the word "crazy" associated with anything I do or say, lest I attract it. As most know, the past year has been turbulent with my family and I finally decided I would no longer accept being treated that way just because they were "family".

I am changing course, steering my ship in a different direction. I have found Empowerment City, USA, a town I just love. It strikes me as ironic that the last two cities I lived in (NYC and Dallas) were the largest cities I've ever lived in and Empowerment City, USA is the smallest city I've ever held residence.

I'm excited, invigorated and full of motivation. Thank you to each and every one of you who has accompanied me along the journey bringing me to where I am today. I couldn't have done it without you.

Join me in making this next year the best one yet?