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Change, LifeView all 2 comments

I informed one of my co-workers earlier today, that she was the outbreak monkey of our office. At the beginning of the year she returned from a vacation sick as a dog. She was so sick, she had to go home at lunch, but she was right back the very next day coughing all over the place and breathing everybody’s air. Thus began the outbreak. Ever since, this plague has been passing from one person to the next in our office, which isn’t all that surprising since I don’t work in that big of an office. So far out of 14 employees, 7 have gotten sick and missed work. 7!

Monkey

At first I thought I was safe, because I’m in the lobby which is separated from everyone else. I felt great, and I did my dead-level best to avoid talking to anyone with a sniffle or a cough. I was in the clear . . . until now. Now I have the plague, and I blame the outbreak monkey. Despite my bitterness about this, I did realize something though. While I am clearly sick – my nose is running like a faucet and I’ve got a cough – this thing hasn’t wiped me out like it has everybody else.

Everyone else has missed at least one day of work, because they were so sick they physically couldn’t get out of bed. I’m on day three, and getting out of bed hasn’t been any harder than usual. I mean I would have preferred to stay for a couple more hours this morning, but it wasn’t a necessity. I also haven’t been running a fever, I’m not achy, and my lymph nodes aren’t that swollen. My immune system is actually fighting this sucker off!

Okay, this might be a bit of an exaggeration.

Okay, this might be a bit of an exaggeration.

For the first time since I started this god-awful allergy elimination diet, I’m actually glad that I’m on it! Normally a bug like this would have knocked me flat. Instead, since my body isn’t in a perpetual state of allergic reaction, I can fight off a cold. Whoo-hoo! It’s the small things that make life worth living. Oh, and for those who have asked for an update – asparagus, bananas, and peppermint have been moved to the permanent DO NOT EAT list – coffee, honey, pinto beans and garlic(in small amounts) have been moved to the YOU CAN EAT list. Only 28 more foods to test . . .

Inspiration, LifeLeave a comment

I am not what you would call a music connoisseur. I listen to quite a bit of music, but I’ll listen to just about anything that’s on, and I generally don’t know band names. I certainly don’t the names of anybody in the band, and with the exception of the Barenaked Ladies, I don’t go out of my way to see a concert. In other words, I enjoy music while I’m in the moment listening to it, but I’ve never been inspired to dig deeper. It’s not my thing.

Yep. Definitely gotten this mixed up before.

Yep. Definitely gotten this mixed up before.

That being said, I fully recognize the power that music can have. I love a good movie soundtrack or score, because there’s a story told through the music itself. They’re great! The Pirates of the Caribbean score will always pump me up and get me ready to work. Therefore, I made a series of mixes in my iTunes that I can play to match the mood I’m in. Sort of like different soundtracks for my life. There’s the slow mix, the workout mix, the belter’s mix – for when I’m in the mood to sing along! – but, I realized that I didn’t have an empowerment mix. A mix of music that pumps me up and makes me feel like I can take over the world. As I was working on a talk that I’m giving at the beginning of March, I decided that I needed an empowerment mix.

Here’s what I came up with, in no particular order, as I generally listen with it on shuffle.

“Respect” – Aretha Franklin

“Fighter” – Christina Aguilera

“Fight Song” – Rachel Platten

“Independent Woman” – Destiny’s Child

“Who Says” – Selena Gomez

“You Gotta Be” – Des’Ree

“I’m Every Woman” – Chaka Khan

“Love Myself” – Hailee Steinfeld

“Stronger” – Kelly Clarkson

“Rhythm Nation” – Janet Jackson

“Brave” – Sara Bareilles

“Born This Way” – Lady Gaga

“Confident” – Demi Lovato

“Ready for the Good Times” – Shakira

“Hit Me with Your Best Shot” – Pat Benatar

“Roar” – Katy Perry

“I’m Coming Out” – Diana Ross

“Get on Your Feet” – Gloria Estefan

“Let’s Get Loud” – Jennifer Lopez

“Raise the Roof” – Jennifer Holliday

“Powerless” – Nelly Furtado

 

I would love to hear if you have any additions! What am I missing?

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Over the past few weeks, I have been on this crazy mission to clean and organize everything in my apartment. My roommate, God bless her, has tolerated my mania and even joined in to take care of her areas. I love me roommate. Well last night I finished . . . okay 95% is done. There are still a couple of little projects but those involve reorganizing something that is already in its proper place. Therefore, for all intents and purposes, I finished last night.

As I looked around my dusted, vacuumed, organized, color-coordinated, alphabetized – just kidding, I didn’t alphabetize anything . . . yet – this profound sense of peace settled over me. I even folded a fitted sheet neatly, that is how Zen I was.

Sheet

I LOVE being in a neat and tidy space. It makes my heart happy. My grandmother would be so proud, I definitely get this from her. It’s not that it has to be sparse, it just has to be neat. A place for everything and everything in its place. I feel like I should cross-stitch that on a pillow or something.

My living space hasn’t looked this good since I was a kid. It’s always close, but there’s always something amuck. Some area that is a disaster area, and I have done this on purpose for years. Growing up I felt as if I had no control over my life. My mother was sick and our lives were ruled by her sickness. Therefore, I found myself something that I could control. Namely, my bedroom. It was pristine, at all times. Everything had a place, and I knew if someone had moved a tchotchke even half an inch. How did I know this? Because I kept such a tight rein on all of my belongings that I would be driven to distraction until it was returned to its correct place. It was the only thing I could control, so half an inch was that important. I can only assume that my friends picked up on this, because when they came over they either put things back exactly where they got it, or gave it to me to put away.

OCD

Sounds pretty OCD, right? That is because I had OCD, a mild case thankfully, but OCD nevertheless. I had to cope with mess and disorder everywhere else, but in my room, everything could be perfect. And there is the reason that I’ve always left something messy as an adult. After leaving college and getting my first place on my own, I discovered the downside in needing things to be perfect. Perfect is a dangerous word, because it is un-achievable and will only make you crazy. Over time, I broke the OCD cycle and have never let myself be completely organized since.

It was earlier this year that it occurred to me, that I’ve come a LONG way since I was that depressed, OCD kid looking for an outlet. A LONG WAY. I no longer need things to be organized, I like them to be organized. Therefore, I decided that it was high time that I love the space I live in. It was high time, for everything to have a place, and for everything to be in its place. A milestone had been reached. To celebrate, I cleaned and organized my entire apartment. I know how to party.

Life, Live and LearnOne comment so far

I worked in retail for years. Everything from a mom and pop tourist junk shop to fine jewelry to a major department store. And if there is one commonality between all of them, it is that there will be people who come in and act like assholes. It doesn’t matter what you’re selling, what your price points are, there will be people who come in and do nothing but make fun of your prices, your merchandise and sometimes you. It’s good times. (insert sarcastic font) As employee in these establishments, the only thing you can do is grit your teeth and hope they get bored and leave sooner rather than later.

Despite my years of experience dealing with this, now that I’ve been removed from it for a couple of years, I had totally forgotten about this phenomenon. Until this weekend when I had a yard sale. This woman came by and started browsing through stuff. Every time she would ask for a price, she would roll her eyes. At one point she even laughed at me. Now mind you, the majority of the items at this yard sale were priced at $1. However, we had a couple of larger, nicer items that were priced accordingly. She of course, was only interested in the nicer items, but still expecting the $1 price tag. Calling on my years of training, I gritted my teeth and waited for her to go away. She did and all was well. Until she circled back.

Customer

It was at this point that I remembered that I was at a yard sale, and I wasn’t anybody’s employee. Therefore, I didn’t have to deal with her shit. Nor did I have to sell her anything if I didn’t want to. The individual prices of everything were still the same, however because of her behavior I would now impose a twat tax on anything she wanted to buy. What is the twat tax, you ask? This tax doubled the asking price to compensate me for the mental anguish I suffered from having to deal with her. Surprise, surprise, she didn’t buy anything, but I felt better.

Fast forward to last night. I’m trying to sell a rug on Craigslist and this guy and I have been going back and forth negotiating price. Scratch that, he’s staying the same at 60% of my asking price, and expecting me to come down to his price. Last night I got fed up, threw out my final offer and said that I wouldn’t go any lower. This twat responds with, “You can do my price. Where do you live, I’ll pick it up tonight.”

Can't Be Serious

Are you kidding me?!?!?! Does that actually work on people? Too bad for him, I now have a twat tax, and he most certainly qualifies as a twat. Only this guy graduated to a whole new level of twat, and I decided that I was done dealing with him. So I responded back with, “No, I cannot, and I am now done dealing with you. Please do not contact me again.”

Amazingly, he responded back and actually said sorry and made a counter offer. Mind you, it was a counter offer that was lower than the price that I said was my lowest offer. Nope, delete! Then I got an email offering to trade me his 37” TV for my rug. What? Nope, delete! Hate to tell you buddy, but if you want something, don’t be a twat to the person who has it. The twat tax. I’m a fan.

Humor, LifeLeave a comment

I work on the 8th floor of a high rise building, and all of the offices on my floor have access to one men’s room, and one lady’s room. Over the past several months there has been some serious drama brewing about the lady’s room and it cracks me up to no end!

First, there were complaints that people were dripping water all over the counter and not wiping it up. Now true, there are definitely days that you go in there and it makes you wonder if somebody has been handwashing their clothes there’s so much water on the counter. But it’s water. It doesn’t get in the way of washing your hands. Yes, maybe you want to set your purse on the counter. Not a problem, grab a paper towel and wipe dry a spot. This is WATER, not nuclear waste. At least this is my philosophy on the whole thing. Apparently the women on my floor, do not share this philosophy. Not only was there a note left in the restroom about wiping up the water, but about a month after the note, an email was received by all of us from building management requesting that people wipe the counter after washing their hands.

I don't care

There were enough people complaining, or just one very persistent person, to get management to send out an email. ABOUT WATER! Hysterical! To their credit, it worked. People started wiping the counters, and the amount of water decreased. So you would think, that the drama would be over, right? Wrong! Emboldened by their win, the Restroom Gestapo moved on to phase two of their restroom crack-down plan. What is next on their list you wonder? Poop. Apparently people have been pooping in the restroom. How inconsiderate! The noses of these delicate flowers have been grossly abused, and thus a second note appeared. I really wish I would have gotten a picture of it before somebody took it down, but alas. The premise of the note was basically requesting – kind of demanding – that these inconsiderate pooping fiends start bringing air freshener, or a match with them to cleanse the air. Then at the bottom, in big bold letters, was written, “We Know Who You Are!”

Know who you are

Really? For the health and regularity of all of the women on the floor, I’m hoping it’s everyone. However, the Restroom Gestapo seems to think that it’s only a select few individuals who are stinking up the joint, and they know who! That is my favorite part. At no point have any of these notes been signed. Or polite for that matter. So we have no idea who the Restroom Gestapo is, but they know who we are. Can you say passive aggressive? As you would expect, this was not received well. Actually I lied, this is my favorite part.  I am not the only one who thinks these notes/people are ridiculous. Ever since that second note showed up, people have stopped wiping the counters. There are now times that it looks like someone has had a full on water fight in there. And no, there has not been an up-tick in the use of air freshener. Take that Restroom Gestapo! It’s like the sixth grade wild, wild, west in there! It cracks me up. I’m sure this whole thing is really ruining someone’s day/week/month, but for my part it is pure comedy.

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You wanna know what phrase I could live the rest of my life without hearing and be happier for it? “If I couldn’t eat that many foods, I would just kill myself.” Or some variation of that. I have lost track of how many people have said that to me. It’s gotten to the point that I avoid bringing up my food restrictions with new people unless I absolutely have to, because I am so fed up with getting that retort. Especially since that retort is usually coupled with a look that says one of three things:

  1. You poor thing! – think injured animal on the side of the road
  2. What kind of weird freak are you?
  3. Drama queen, just get over it.

Dramatic

I realize that I don’t know what is meant by the looks, as I have never actually asked. So that is an assumption on my part. However, let’s take a look at the comment itself. “If I couldn’t eat that many foods, I would just kill myself.” So, my life is not worth living. Or I am so broken, it is not even worth trying to function anymore. Awesome, that makes me feel really good inside. All warm and fuzzy. I guess I’ll just excuse myself from the dinner table and go slit my wrists in the bath tub.

Yes, I know that is not what these people mean, because there are some people who I am close to that have said some variation of this at some point. It may not be what they mean, but it is what they are saying and that truly sucks. It sucks even more because there is nothing that I can do to change. There is no pill that I can take, there is no exercise regimen, there is no Tibetan chant that I can recite to make my body digest foods properly. Trust me, if there was I would be doing it! Even if I had to eat while standing on my head, taking the pill and reciting the Tibetan chant all at the same time. I WOULD BE DOING IT! Because having food restrictions sucks. Having as many as I do, is practically crippling if you want to get food outside of your own kitchen. I am well aware of this without people pointing out that if they were in my shoes, they would kill themselves.

If you haven’t guessed, this is in response to a comment that I received about Tuesday’s blog topic. Not on the blog itself, it was said to my face. I’m quite sure this person meant well, and was simply trying to empathize with me. It didn’t work. In fact, it hurt like hell. Here’s a newsflash: suggesting suicide as a means of empathizing, never works. Go figure! Instead, try out this phrase instead, “That totally sucks!” It’s simple. It’s to the point. It’s honest. It’s something that I have thought many a time, and hearing it come out of your mouth will likely make me giggle and then agree with you whole-heartedly. I’m not 100% sure on this, but I would wager that people dealing with other chronic illnesses, like type 1 diabetes and such, would agree. We fight like hell every day to stay alive. Please stop making it harder to do so.

bad day

LifeLeave a comment

I haven’t done any research to substantiate this claim, but I would wager that the top two New Year’s resolutions are to get in shape and lose weight. How else can you explain why the gym turns into a madhouse and picking out good produce becomes a full contact sport in January? People decide that they are going to make being healthy a priority. I have to admit, I’ve fallen into that trap on more than one occasion. I can’t tell you how many times I have had “eat healthier” or “cook more meals at home” as a goal for the year. Like almost everybody else, I last until February . . . if I’m lucky.

This year, I am not including anything about food or eating in my goals for the year. So there! I would love to say that this is because I already eat immaculately healthy or that I have transcended into some higher realm of zen about food. I haven’t. I don’t even know if that’s a thing, but it sounds good. Either way, I haven’t. The ugly truth of the matter is that I have no goals about food, because I don’t really get any choices about food. I have to spend the first 10 months of the year on an elimination diet. My system has gone so haywire, that anything and everything is making me feel sick and when we ran blood tests I tested positive for sensitivities for more foods then I can count.

Peasants Rejoice

So the question became, am I actually sensitive/allergic to all of those foods? Or is my system really so out of whack that I’m testing sensitive/allergic to foods simply because I eat them a lot? Lucky me, the only sure fire way to find out is by doing an elimination diet. Essentially, for three weeks I have to avoid ALL foods that I have ever tested sensitive to, or had documented issues with. Apparently, this is the body’s equivalent to a reset button. Then, starting week 4, I get to introduce one food back into my diet per week. If I have a reaction to the food, it stays on the no list. If I don’t have a reaction to the food, I move it to the maybe list and keep a food journal of how I feel every time I eat it for a couple of weeks. If I stay symptom free, then I can move it to the yes list! This will be exciting, because right now my yes list is very short and my no list is very long. Hence needing to stay on this diet until October to get through all of the new “no” foods. And mind you, I’m not actually going to test all of the foods on my list. I’ve lived 33 years without eating duck, I’m sure I can survive the rest of my life without eating it. I also don’t like grapefruit, so why bother testing to see if I can. Those can stay on the no list. Other things, like coffee and garlic and coffee and sugar cane and coffee most definitely NEED to be tested. I will give you one guess as to which food is going to be tested first.

no coffee

I would love to say that I am looking forward to exploring these foods to find a healthier me and have a great attitude about the whole thing. That would be lying. I have been bitching about this for weeks now – I was supposed to start in the middle of November, but decided that I didn’t really need to ruin my holidays – and I don’t foresee the bitching stopping any time soon. In fact, I foresee a marked increase in bitching. I also see a marked increase in homicidal tendencies. Did I mention that I tested sensitive to coffee? COFFEE!!! Which means that starting on Sunday I will not get to have a cup of coffee until February. FEBRUARY PEOPLE!!! I’ve done a test run today. I skipped my coffee and have had nothing but green tea. At the moment, I want to weep openly while punching someone in the face. Unless of course that person had a cup of coffee for me. In which case I’m pretty sure that I would weep openly while kissing them on the mouth. These are not normal behaviors, but alas, here I am. Consider yourselves warned people. 2016 may just become the year of the food-crazed-hysterical rant.

Defcon

Life, Theater, WritingLeave a comment

Count

1 = Book Published (10 Cheeky Monkeys)

2 = Baby Showers Attended

3 = Out of State Trips

4 = Visits to Disneyland

5 = Puggle ER Visits (Here’s to hoping they got this out of their systems!)

6 = New Year’s Resolutions Kept (Better than I thought I would do!)

7 = Movies Seen in a Movie Theater (5 of the 7 at El Capitan.)

8 = Query Letters Sent for My Novel

19 = Book Clubs

52 = Plays I Saw

71 = New Blog Posts on My Website

450 = Pages in My Novel

1,050 = Most Website Views in One Day

14,000 = Total Website Views

Happy New Year’s Eve and here’s to 365 days of success, happiness and laughter in 2016! You read this blog as the Count didn’t you? 😉

LifeLeave a comment

I am a bit of a Shakespeare nut. Okay, I’m a huge Shakespeare nut. If it is related to the Bard, I’m in. I’ve seen the entire canon performed live with the exception of three plays, and I have a ticket to cross one of those off my list next year. So yesterday when I heard that for one night only there would be a showing of Kenneth Branaugh’s “Winter’s Tale,” starring Judi Dench at a local movie theater I was ecstatic! SIGN ME UP!!! Minor problem though, my car was in the shop. That was not going to get me down. I convinced a friend to go with me, and she said that she could drive. Golden! Checked online, still plenty of tickets. I could not wait for my workday to be over to go geek-out watching Shakespeare for three hours. Best. Day. Ever. Until I got home from work to discover this.

IMG_20151130_185104

My darling dogs decided to throw themselves a little party while I was at work. What you’re seeing there is the carnage leftover for me to clean up. On top of clearing several rolls of paper towels and half a dozen cans off a shelf, they also got into and ate three jars of curry sauce, a can of olives and pulled two half-empty bottles of vodka out of a drawer (apparently they can open drawers now) and spilled/drank them. Mind you, all of these items have been on that shelf for months and they have never shown the slightest bit of interest in them, and the only thing on that shelf were cans and jars, so nothing that should have been tempting or accessible to them. Regardless, they got it into their little heads that yesterday was the day to get into everything!

It goes without saying, but I did not make it to “Winter’s Tale” last night. Instead I spent the evening scrubbing my kitchen and then my curry covered dogs while waiting the whole time for some sort of demonic curry-fueled fury to be unleashed out of one end or the other. As you can imagine, I was pissed. In fact, after ascertaining that despite the broken glass all over the kitchen, neither dog was injured, anger won out over concern completely. Therefore, in an attempt to not murder my dogs, I am choosing to find the bright side. So here are the top five good things about last night.

  1. I had pumpkin puree in the house and neighbors gave me some Pepto Bismol and white bread, so I didn’t have to walk to the store to pick some up.
  2. I never got around to cleaning my kitchen over the weekend, so at least they didn’t dirty up a freshly cleaned kitchen. And as a bonus, my kitchen is now the cleanest it has ever been!
  3. I also have clean puggles now. Everyone likes a clean puggle.
  4. I had not pre-purchased my ticket for “Winter’s Tale” so at least I didn’t waste any money.
  5. Despite all logical sense my goats, er dogs appear to be perfectly fine.

Puggles

I am slightly less pissed this morning, but choosing to focus on the positive. Frickin dogs!

Depression, Life, LossView all 2 comments

Since I started blogging I have devoted more than a handful of blogs to mental illness. I’ve been clinically depressed since I was 11 so I have plenty of firsthand experience to bring to the table. It is also through that experience that I whole heartedly believe that the stigma that surrounds mental illness has to go. It’s misleading and detrimental. I have a chemical imbalance, I treat it and I feel no shame about that. I’m perfectly comfortable taking about depression and answering people’s questions.

But lately I have been feeling ashamed. Not about my depression, but about something else. My grandmother was a nurse during WWII and during the Battle of the Bulge she cut her hand. It wasn’t a big deal. She wrapped a bandage around it and kept on working. However, because she was injured while deployed in a war zone, she was awarded the Purple Heart. She hated that medal so much, she gave it away at her first opportunity. The reason, she thought that it was absolutely asinine that she had been given the same award as boys she sent home with missing limbs. With burns over 50 percent of their bodies. In other words, her cut hand warranted the same award as a grievously injured soldier. She was ashamed of it.

appletree

I guess this apple didn’t fall far from that tree, because my shame has been coming from very much the same source. I’ve been struggling all year, but it was only recently that a doctor put two and two together and diagnosed me with PTSD. My first reaction was that was ridiculous. I’ve never been to war, I’ve never been in a life threatening situation, so how in the world could I possibly have PTSD? In my mind, I hadn’t been through enough to warrant that diagnosis. I felt ashamed that I had usurped the condition of Veterans and survivors. I felt like a fake.

So I got a second opinion and the same diagnosis. That’s when I started to look at my symptoms and had to admit to myself that despite the lack of something horrifically traumatic in my life recently, I have PTSD. The horrible anxiety and weekly if not daily panic attacks should have been a clue. The crippling nightmares that I wake up from thrashing and crying, should have been a clue. The insanely vivid and realistic dreams that I can’t escape from and wake up in the morning sore from tensing my muscles all night, should have been a clue. The constant debilitating exhaustion, yet fear of falling asleep should have been a clue. The waves of feeling like an empty broken shell that hit me out of nowhere, should have been a clue.

PTSD

But I felt ashamed that I was breaking down like this because of the death of my aunt. That didn’t seem like a good enough reason. People experience death all the time. Yes, it was tragic and it was sudden, but I got to say goodbye. I got to give her one last hug and tell her that I love her, will always love her. That’s more than I got with any other family member I’ve lost. And that my friends, is where my trauma comes from. Amongst other things, between the ages of eight and twenty, I lost seven family members. The seventh being my mother. Needless to say the majority of the emotions associated with all of that loss was buried instead of dealt with. So when my aunt died, the dam broke and in essence so did I.

I am not a veteran and I have never been in a war zone, but I have PTSD. They say the first step to recovery is admitting what’s wrong. So I admit it, and I’m not going to feel ashamed about it anymore.