not even sure where to begin

I don't want to divulge details that aren't mine, so suffice it to say that my family imploded in the few days before Christmas due to horribly greedy, selfish, narcissistic people.  I know that sounds redundant.  I wish I had the vocabulary to add 75 more words.  For your reading ease, I am leaving out the plethora of swear words that have accompanied all of that.

Fortunately, one of my sisters was in town visiting, so she was able to lend her wisdom and support.  At one point during the weekend, I was almost longing for my personal pain of last year instead of standing by and watching members of my family get hurt.  My brother made a speech before Christmas dinner, which had my eyes leaking a little.  At least some of us were together, weathering the storm, and leaning on each other.

He had also invited some of his Veteran friends.  We had quite a conversation of about guns, wars, and military life.  I loved hearing my dad's old military stories.  And I think it was good for the youngsters to hear how tough old soldiers had it, before modern conveniences. 

The food was delicious and abundant as usual.  I didn't overeat, but I did sample many dishes.  Mostly I had a bite of this and a bite of that.  Obviously, I didn't imbibe.  In fact, I don't think even a drop of alcohol was poured there, although it was offered.

I woke up yesterday with a pounding migraine that numerous doses of meds didn't affect.  My sister brought me the ice-pack and switched it out when it was warm.  And my dad came by to take her to breakfast and then to the airport.  I stayed in bed all day, in a migraine fog, and lost the whole day.  Fortunately, I had the day off.  I have no idea if all the food types did it or more likely, all the drama from the weekend.  We had family conference calls across the country every day. 

Or maybe it was the weather about to change.  Or maybe it was merely Monday and I was due.  :\

I hung up a wreath

I kept staring at a giant wreath mocking me in the garage.  Three days before Christmas, I did it.  I pulled it out and hung it prominently.  I have lots of other decorations, but those are sitting conveniently in boxes.  Maybe next year...

date a girl who reads

I recently learned about this series of articles about which women to date and why.

Why You Should Date A Girl Who Reads

You Should Date An Illiterate Girl

Date A Girl Who Writes


A bunch of stereotypes and tropes if you ask me.  I've had a library card since before age 12.  I don't sniff old books because the mildewy scent can trigger a migraine.  And, no non-dairy creamer for me.  Give me butter!!

Besides the sexist nature of these articles, I appreciated the focus on intellectual pursuits. 

I love to read, but lately I'm having a hard time focusing.  I'm not sure if it's because I picked books which aren't suitable for my mind or if I'm finally succumbing to the millennial disease of too much input / distractions.  I sure hope it's a temporary situation because I miss all my friends (old as well as yet to be discovered) in my books.

where have you been?!

Just goofing.  I know I've been Missing In Action.  I'm trying to get more in the holiday spirit this year than last year.  Which isn't as challenging as it sounds, because last year I cried a LOT.  So far, no tears.  Maybe I'm all fixed now???

Maybe not.  I still didn't do holiday decor or cards, but I bought a few small tokens of appreciation for a couple of people.  That's such a silly stressor.  I don't care if someone doesn't get me a present, yet I'm stressing out if/what I should get for people I may see on Christmas.  If my gift or lack thereof upsets someone, I probably don't need them in my life.  And by probably, I mean definitely.  :)

Kitten's stocking is hanging on the mantel, so that's something. 

small sprinkles of joy

I've been on a slow and steady path to good health (I hope), both mental and physical.  Some of my healing has come from helping others cope with their loneliness, their grief, their depression.  There are so many walking wounded out there, holding down jobs and looking functional, until one scratches a little beneath the surface.  Then, BAM.  It all pours out.

Obviously, I'm only one person.  And I can't take too much upon myself because I am fragile as well.  But I hope that each person I reach with truth and caring is able to exponentially help others.  Maybe not today, but when they are on the right part of their healing journey.  As we emerge from our depression cocoons, we share our vitality with those around us, sometimes in the least expected areas.

I did it!

I made it through an entire holiday, including a family dinner, exchanged texts with several friends and family, and never shed one tear. 

/FLEX

It was close though, I will admit.  I felt a tear building up and forced myself to think of something else.  Fuck, I love denial.  :)

One day I hope to be healthy enough not to need to engage denial as a coping mechanism, but for now, I'll take it.  Some people use religion and/or drugs as crutches.  I embrace denial.  :)

3 ... 2 ... 1

And it's the holiday season again.  Fuck.

I swear I'm ready this year.  No drama, no tears, no depression.  Yeah, right.  I'm pretty sure I thought I was fine last year until that tsunami of darkness almost drowned me.

It doesn't feel like a whole year has gone by.  Wasn't it just a few months ago?

I'm beginning to see people around me randomly snap at situations they typically wouldn't, with others left standing there saying wtf.  I'm chalking every fucked-up situation to the Holiday Parasites that infect us all differently.  Some people get nicer.  Some get angrier.  Some get sadder.  And others bottle up their feelings and explode at bizarre times with completely inappropriate reactions.  Until one digs beneath the surface and sees they're doing the best they can.

Please everyone, have a little extra patience until January 2.  Then you can resume being self-absorbed.

what was I thinking?

I decided to watch that new show Divorce last night.  Somehow I thought it would be empowering like How Stella Got Her Groove Back.  Instead, I started crying and sliding into depression.  Fortunately I found some friends online, one of whom was also having a rough night.  I like to think it was a mutual cheering up session.  It's hard to admit vulnerability, but once we did, the group was receptive to helping us.

I blame the super moon.  Which was gorgeous!

I only cried a little bit.  Progress??

Pokémon > casino

I had to walk through several casinos (or maybe just one large one) to get to my destination.  It probably says something about me that I would rather play Pokemon Go than have anything to do with a casino.  It was like being back in the dark ages -- they allow smoking inside.  Yuck.  My eyes were burning, and my hair and clothes stunk.

On the way back, some young woman gave me a free sample of some face lotion.  She asked what I use and then suggested something for the bags under my eyes.  Just a thought, maybe don't insult me if you're trying to sell me something.  My skin is so dry here.  What I typically use to moisturize is 80% humidity instead of living in a fkn desert.  I also try sleeping more to diminish the bags under my eyes.  Bitch. Come talk to me when you're not twenty anymore.  I didn't say any of that though.  I smiled and said thank you for the sample and no thank you to injecting poison into my face.

So glad to be going home soon.  I thought the one upside of dry air would be non-frizzy hair.  Nope.  My hair was still a riotous explosion.

so much angst

People are losing their minds over this election.  And nothing has changed yet.   

Except it's all changed.  

It's acceptable now to be openly racist at work.  And to make sexist jokes during a professional presentation.  That bothers me a lot.  I hope it calms down soon.  But I'm a smidge apprehensive that we will regress as a society in the next four years.  Although I suppose we aren't regressing.  People are merely showing their true colors. 

I understand that people are sick and tired of being lied to and stepped on.  Me, too!  I didn't vote for Trump, but I'm not so naive that I don't understand how it happened.  Maybe this is the shitty catalyst we need to make progress.  I'm adopting a wait-and-see attitude.

To sum up, just because I'm white please don't assume that I want to hear white supremacy bullshit.  I like diversity.  It's how I can eat sushi for dinner and Colombian the next night, without leaving my local neighborhood.  Our President-elect may or may not be misogynistic, please know that I am judging the shit out of you for making sexist jokes in a corporate environment.  Or for laughing at them.  

cock-a-doodle-doo

So many roosters crowing.  All night.  I started getting used to it on my last night there.  I'm gonna miss my brother so much.  And Potato snoring with his ninja face licks.  And Smaug's old man slipper shuffles (she's only graceful and agile when in attack mode).   And Winston's happy-faced under-bite.  

Of course, the migraine monster paid me a visit.  Couldn't let me enjoy a few pain-free days with my brother.  By the time my flight landed in Vegas, I was hurting bad.  My meds had worn off, and I took more in my cab.  I couldn't even wait to take them at the hotel.

As soon as I got into my room, I filled up the Jacuzzi tub and relaxed for 30 minutes.  Then I put on my happy face and went to meet up with my work colleagues.

Smaug (not her real name)

I'm pretty sure Smaug slept outside my bedroom door last night.  I heard snoring in a deep bass rumble.   And roosters were crowing sporadically.  At both two and five am.  Ahh, the quiet country life.

At about 5:30 am, I gave up trying to sleep and went to see who the snores belonged to.  Potato (the smallest of the three doggies, weighing in at 90 pounds) is a very loud snorer, but he didn't have the depth of Smaug.  This title belonged to his 150-pound Neapolitan Mastiff.  My brother's dogs are guard-trained but were affectionate to me because they'd met me the night before as family.  Smaug even let me take close-up photos of her with the flash all in her face.  Barely any came out though, because she's a fkn dragon, and they have magic.

My brother slept late, with the third dog in his room.  Winston was (still is?) seriously ill and had lost over 30 pounds.  He had an IV port in his leg that my brother routinely had to medicate him with.  The meds had kicked in, so he had lots of energy, but we aren't sure if it's a temporary boost or not.  Poor doggie.

My brother woke up and cooked me fresh eggs from his chickens.  YUM!

He knew that my energy levels were low, so we didn't have much activity planned.  Mostly we hung out, talked, and laughed.  We also fed his horses, cows, chickens, and dogs.  And by we, I mean he.  :)   But I kept him company.

Later that afternoon, we went to see ancient petroglyphs.  I had to rest a couple times making the long half mile walk from his truck.  Then it was off to buy chicken feed, which apparently costs way more than that expression would imply.  Finally, we drove off in search of dinner.  And stumbled across sushi.  In the desert.  It was really good, surprisingly.

my great adventure

I've had lovers who didn't touch me as thoroughly as that TSA woman.   I was glad I'd been wearing my fancy lingerie.  Because her hands were all down my pants and up my shirt.  Somehow she didn't muss my hair in the slightest.  Probably because she's a professional.  She put her hands inside my socks, for fucks sake.   From the back and then from the front, as if I have talented ankles muscles that could magically move contraband around while she switched from back to front. 

I stood there grinning like an idiot.  Because if I didn't laugh, I'd cry. 

At my gate, I looked for an outlet to charge my phone.  It was very sparse, and some nice dude offered to let me use his battery charger.   I declined because I knew there must be an outlet somewhere.  But it was very thoughtful of him. 

I found one a few gates over and settled in all by myself.   Two minutes later a man and his kid invaded my quietude.   The kid was playing the floor is lava, which is hilarious, except when he's jumping on my seat. 

I finally boarded and ended up next to the nice battery charger dude.   Coincidence or is he following me?   Also, I mysteriously lost my middle boarding card between security and my seat.  I had the one to get on this plane.  And the one with my bag tag, but I couldn't find my connection.  I'll use my phone app if my battery has charge by then.  If I ever leave.   We got called back to the gate because the black-box is broken.  Sigh. 

Forty minutes later and the maintenance man hasn't shown up yet.   Fuck.  I'm hungry and cranky and stressed about potentially missing my connection.   I have no stamina for running.  Especially with a heavy laptop on my back. The flight attendants confirmed that there is only a single maintenance man for that airport.  And this isn't the first time this has happened.  Not even the first time this week.

They're passing out Delay Snacks.   How is that a thing?   Maybe just hire a second maintenance dude or keep your fleet in working order.  

Battery charger guy turned out to be quite an interesting companion.  We talked the entire delay (over an hour) and most of the flight.

Once I deplaned, I ran really fast.  In my mind.  In reality, I was wheezing and huffing but not traveling as fast as I would have liked.  I heard final boarding while I was five gates away.  I tried sprinting again.  The gate didn't get closer.  I almost jumped on a cart but didn't wanna get arrested.   Wouldn't you know they were going to the same place and it was the last fkn gate in the terminal?   I couldn't even speak by the time I got there.  And my hands were shaking so much that I barely could unlock my phone to show my boarding pass.   I was the last person on the plane.  They closed the door as I crossed the threshold, right behind me.  

I had been frantically texting my brother, unsure if I would make the connection.  And because he lives out in BFE, I didn't want him to leave early to pick me up, only to not have me there.  We had a good laugh thinking about the poor luggage delivery driver trying to find his ranch if my luggage missed my connection.  Fortunately, it arrived safe and sound.  My seatmate this leg was also interesting and gave me some geography, history, and science lessons of the area.  I really got lucky.

My brother picked me up outside, and it was as if no time at all had passed since we last hung out.  When in reality, it had been several years.  We went for delicious Mexican food of course, and then back to his ranch.  I was exhausted and fell asleep fairly quickly, after meeting all of his LARGE doggies.

tweezers are a girl's best friend

My towel rack fell on the floor as I was hanging up my towel yesterday.  I was scrambling around trying to get ready quickly because of a scheduling snafu, so I hung my damp towel on the doorknob instead.  Then, I hightailed it to the gym, leaving the broken rack on the floor.

I'm not sure why I was in such a rush.  Longest hour ever!  My anemia is not doing me any favors.  I couldn't catch my breath a few times and had to sit down before I passed out.  My workout partner and I altered our training a bit to less cardio and more strength training.  Not that I really do much cardio anyway, but I switched to leg press instead of squats, for example.

Afterwards, we went for restorative tacos.  I took the scenic route home, along the beach.  It was a blustery day, and the palm trees looked glorious blowing in the wind.  Many people were out walking their dogs, all decked out in adorable Halloween costumes.  (The dogs were, not the owners.)

When I got back home, I went to shower and realized I still needed to fix the towel rack.  I was too exhausted to go back downstairs again for a screwdriver, so I improvised.  Tweezers work almost as well, hallelujah.  I used two different sized tweezers for two different adjustments.  My towel rack is all better now.

monster, never leave home without it

There is a savage beast living inside me.  Dexter (the serial-killer) has his dark passenger.  I have my migraine monster.

Not many people can see it.  I've learned to hide it so well.  I used to have a good friend in college who could always tell, no matter how well I thought I was hiding.  She said it was something about my eyes.  I think most people don't look that closely.

It's changed me into someone I don't always like or respect.  I used to be intrepid and love adventure.  Crave it, even.  Now, I am more cautious, more fearful of the excruciating torture that I know can arrive at any minute from this invisible, merciless barbarian.

When I did a zipline tour in Costa Rica several years ago, which was 600 hundred feet above the ground, I wasn't scared of dying.  I got stuck along the line because my weight wasn't enough to zip me to the end.  That wasn't scary somehow.

And now?  I'm scared to eat too late or to stay up too late.  I used to travel all over the world, but now I'm resistant to spending an entire day away from home.  Twenty-year-old me wouldn't like current me.  And that has to change.



Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

--Friedrich Nietzsche

wisdom -- it's a kind of magic

I had another rough week, but I woke up again this morning, so here we are.  Me, with my woes, and you as my muse. 

I don't like being down, and most especially, I don't like being knocked down.  So I force myself to rise again, both in spirit and in the physical sense.  I've been doing brief spurts of calisthenics three times a day.  One day, I was too weak to do that, but the rest of my week, I did it, despite the pain and weakness.  Does it help?  Who knows.  But I feel like it does, and that's half the battle, right?

It seems to me that wishing life were different is not at all helpful or beneficial.  Therefore, the wise soul will be in the current reality, not wishing for a different one.  I tell myself that on days when my anxiety levels skyrocket.  Lions don't have anxiety.  They hunt when they are hungry and relax when they aren't.  Can't my life be that simple?  Why do I need to over-complicate it?


“Study me as much as you like, you will not know me, for I differ in a hundred ways from what you see me to be.  Put yourself behind my eyes and see me as I see myself, for I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi

vote early and vote often

I early-voted yesterday.  Now I can ignore every political argument and discussion as irrelevant.  Yay!  I was surprised to see other voters there.  Usually, I'm the only one.  I was told by a poll worker that I wasn't allowed to have my phone on.  Hmm, I had all my choices written down on it.  She said fine but told me no pictures.  I was on my way to the gym in an old t-shirt and shorts.  Didn't want my picture taken anyway. 

Then it was off to the gym, which is always a challenge when I'm anemic and out of breath constantly.  My workout partner and I rewarded ourselves with burgers afterwards.  For medicinal purposes.  Yum.

On the way home, I stopped by the only grocery store which carries liver.  They didn't have any liver.  The butcher apologized profusely.  Thanks, but that's not gonna rebuild my blood cells, buddy. 

I finally made it home and worked like a fiend until I received a text asking if I was there yet.  Oops, I was late and hadn't even gotten ready yet.  Fortunately even fancy events here can be attended in jeans and t-shirts.  Or at least that's what I tell myself. 

I filled up on canapés and socialized even more.   That's a whole lot of me being friendly all in one day.  I came home and went straight to bed.  

I miss having fun

I laughed so much last night and really enjoy my old, fun-loving self.

I met up with a longtime friend, with whom I had sort of lost touch for years.  We were giggling in about two minutes flat, much to our Asian waiter's consternation.  The restaurant was mostly empty (not sure why, but I feel fine today, so it's probably not rumors of food poisoning).

I parked behind the sushi restaurant, and the dudes smoking out back let me cut through the kitchen.  One even complimented my attire (I wasn't dressed up).  My friend told me I had my mojo back.  I guess she was right.  I did however put blush on my face before I left the house, in case I ran into my horrible neurologist telling me I'm too pale.  (Who wears makeup to the doctor's office?)  Yes, I'm still bitter.  Sixteen migraines a month doesn't lend itself to sunbathing or playing outdoors in Florida.  Asshole.

Back to delicious sushi...

We hadn't hung out in years, so we were busy chatting and slow to look at menus.  Our waiter rushed us every step of the way.  Not sure why because there were at least 12 empty tables, and it was hours until closing.  Plus we laughed so much that we gave the place a festive vibe.

I need to start getting out more, but it's so easy to make excuses when I'm comfortably ensconced at home.  And most people wear on me in about 15 minutes.  I've been trying to force myself lately, hence the stretch yoga a few weeks ago.

Perhaps she'll move back to town and help spice up my social life...

it's not failure if it moves you forward

Or at least that's what I tell myself.  

I got lectured by my neurologist today about my anemia.  He went for the full-on scare tactics.  "Your heart could stop, and you could just drop dead, young lady."  Asshole.  Glad I rarely have to see him and can mainly interact with the nurses.  Three years of monthly visits and that's the second time we've spoken.  

I know it's serious, you fucker, but making me cry isn't the way to work with me.  I'm doing my best.  Of course, he didn't want to hear about my history or what I've tried so far.  Arrogant know-it-all mofo.  Plus I really hate doctors, so I will not be seeing a specialist.  I know more about nutrition than my neurologist did obviously, going by his advice.  

I cried most of the hour drive home, in-between swearing at him and making Italian road gestures.  Asshole.  Listening to Adele probably didn't help much either.

The nightmares aren't completely gone.  But my mood was great, until my doctor's visit.  My head has been great the last few days.  I'll take it. Here's hoping my monthly injection doesn't fuck me up.

pretty sure the loop is no longer a scenario

But I'm scared to put the goat milk away.  It's sitting in a place of honor on my buffet.  It reminds me how fortunate I am.  My brother asked me if that was the same can I've had for years.  It is not.  I've used it and replaced it as necessary.  I think a few cans were foster kitty dinners.  I keep the can current in case I ever need to use it for food.

I've been on my hands and knees scrubbing my back deck because it's filthy.  And cleaning is therapeutic.  Plus the furniture is all moved, so I have easy access.  It's hard work, and I'm anemic again (what else is new), so I get out of breath frequently and have to take breaks.  I hope to finish in a few more days.  It's a great way to get in an hour of exercise when I first wake up.  It's a nice stress-release, too.  And the weather has been cooperating.

My nightmares are lessening, and Kitten has calmed down, as well. 

I need to clean my front porch, too.  Something puked on it, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't Kitten.  I'm guessing some other cat took refuge from the storm in the alcove and had anxiety.  I rarely go outside through that door, so I keep forgetting to clean it.  It's just a couple blades of grass, so it isn't nasty.  And it's incredibly easy to procrastinate uncoiling and dragging the hose around.  Plus, I know I'll have mission creep.  It's taking discipline to finish the back first and not have many started, incomplete projects.

hurricane PTSD

I'm mentally exhausted.  Did a little bit of cleanup.  Unpacked my go bag.  Un-barricaded my big windows.  I'm leaving the rest in case this fkr loops.  

I have no energy or motivation to do anything else.  

I've had nightmares the past two nights, one of which was completely hurricane related.  I watched my ceiling fill with water and collapse on top of me.  And then I woke up -- the split second before impact.

I have friends who live in areas that got hit much harder, both of whom evacuated thankfully.  They still don't know what they'll be going home to.  I truly am grateful for my situation.  

I could do without this never-ending migraine though.  And the nightmares.  Kitten is still extra needy, too, so maybe it's a barometric pressure thing.  Or maybe I'm making my cat crazy.  :(

I have an intact home, power, AC, food, and lots of meds.  I'll stop my crying now.  Thanks to all of you who have been following along and sending me encouragement as I needed it.  It helped tremendously in feeling less alone.

dodged a machine gun

Holy shit, my Lucky Goat Milk helped again.  The hurricane wobbled north just enough to mostly miss me.  And looking at reports, it kept wobbling enough to stay offshore up the coast.  I'm hearing people on Merritt Island are not doing well, though.

My only casualties seem to be my papaya tree (RIP) and my head.  This fkn migraine, OMG.

Kitten came up to me many times during the past 24 hours, which isn't typical for her, crying and needing reassurance.  It makes me wonder if the dropping barometric pressure hurts her, too.  I had quite a few people tell me they had nagging headaches from this, and they all wondered how I deal with so many.  I didn't have the heart to tell them that their lingering headaches are nowhere near a migraine with all of the neurological shit that comes with it.

Yesterday, I had no appetite.  I knew I needed to eat, but between the crushing pain in my head and the adrenaline shooting through my body, my stomach kept saying STOP.  I forced some food down anyway.  I had to hand-feed Kitten her dinner last night, because she didn't seem hungry either.

My head is better this morning.  I'm hoping as the pressure rises, it will stay better.  I have a lot of cleanup to do.

I am so very grateful that my home is still intact.

snapped clean off

ready as I'll ever be

I slept fitfully last night, in my dry home, in my clean sheets, in my air-conditioned comfort, knowing it might be the last time I experience that.  I've done all of the physical planning I can do.  I've prepped the outside and inside of my home.  Now, I need to walk through and say goodbye to it.  It may be the last time I see it whole.

The outer edges of the storm should be hitting soon.  I took a long hot shower and washed my hair while I still have power.  My bugout bag is packed, sitting next to the cat carrier, in my one internal room with no windows.  This house is full of windows.  It's one of the reasons I fell in love with it.  It felt so light and airy.  Now I get a front row seat to one of the most dangerous storms to visit my lovely state.  Deep breaths.

Even though I'm always barefoot, I have shoes and socks sitting conveniently out.  I learned that lesson from my mom, who gashed open her foot when running for her life through the house during Hurricane Andrew.  Windows go fast.  My brother and I eventually went to look for my mom and dad at the hospital because they had been gone over eight hours.  Holy hell, I never want to see that sight again.  A state of the art hospital looked third world, running on minimal generators, with leaves and debris stuck to the ceilings and walls.  Everyone had dazed, shell-shocked looks on their faces.

My migraine has gone way down (after too many doses of meds), so I'm able to function today.  So far.  I went through two Amy's meals yesterday.  Yay for planning ahead.  I think I'll skip the coffee again today.  I'm roaring around on too much adrenaline as it is.

I'll try to keep updates going while I have power and access.  Please keep me in your thoughts.  :)

Kitten anxiety

They say animals know things.  Kitten is getting more and more anxious, although perhaps she picked up some of that from me.  I'm over mine now, so I'm hopeful she will pick up on that, too.  But she vomited yesterday  She's not good with change and probably didn't like the patio furniture in the house.

She keeps waking from her naps and crying.  I wonder if she can feel the storm that's coming.

I certainly can.  My migraine-free streak ended.  Owwie.

I barely slept at all.  Well-meaning family and friends have been texting me shit that is not at all calming.  However, one of my brothers and my father (both of whom have been through many hurricanes) were soothing.  Fortunately, my father is out of town, so he won't have to endure this.

The forecasts keep getting more and more dire.  Now it's supposed to be a category 4 that hits us.  FUCK!

I should probably text my local brother and see how he's faring.  Not that I can be of much use to anyone right now.

I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.  :(

putting on my big girl panties

Whilst I was lying awake in an anxiety-drenched stupor this morning, I gave myself a lecture.  I had forgotten who I was.  I'm not some sniveling little coward who sits in corners.  I'm motherfkn Wendy!  My brother reminded me last week what a bad-ass I used to be.  When did that change?  How did I pick up so much fear?

I've been through many hurricanes, albeit none of them solo.  But my ex didn't have any special weather powers (that I know of).  I can do this on my own.  I'm the one with the Lucky Goat Milk.  This storm won't kill me, although it may destroy my home.  As long as I can keep Kitten and myself safe, I can do this.

I've started moving my patio furniture inside.  It's quality stuff, so it's heavy.  And I have a lot somehow.  I'm almost half done, but I had to rest.  I suppose I workout to be able to lift my own furniture, as well as to open my own peanut butter jars.  I have a few extra bruises I didn't have before.  And I'm hoping I don't have any extra spiders or crawlies inside that I didn't have before.  But I can do this.  I've been through it before.  Many times.

gas tank is topped off

Fuck you, Matthew, bring it! 

OMG, I AM NOT SERIOUS!  PLEASE STAY AWAY!!

I've had hurricane anxiety for the last several days since Hurricane Matthew rapidly intensified and became a catastrophic category 5.  It's down to a measly 4 now.  Holy fuck, that's still terrifying.  I had to take deep breaths to calm myself while typing this.  Facing my fears head on.  Go, Wendy!

With hurricanes, we get lots of time to prepare.  I have canned food, bottles of water, and a full tank of gas.  However, the flip side is that I also get a least a week of anxiety, panic attacks, and migraines before enduring hours upon hours of house-shaking winds and torrential rain.  A sudden earthquake is starting to sound better.  JUST KIDDING.  I don't want that either.  I was in a couple in California, and they are severely disorienting.

I also stocked up on frozen dinners for the days right before, when I'm incapacitated with migraines but still have power and need to eat.  I love me some Amy's.

This storm has so much uncertainty surrounding it.  The experts are still not good at predicting intensity.  And apparently there are so many other weather factors, that the path isn't as certain as it usually is.  I still remember Hurricane Andrew suddenly veering off and hitting farther south than they anticipated.  And of course being much stronger.  Hehe, I sound like an old-timer now.  Might as well park myself on my porch and ruminate.

hero or traitor?

(probably no spoilers)

I'm pleased that Oliver Stone took on the project of making a movie about Ed Snowden.  I think what Snowden did took tremendous courage.  During the course of the movie, I inevitably compared my career choices with his.  And if I'm being brutally honest, I don't think I could have done what he did, assuming I had his same mad computing skills.  It's hard to say because he was being constantly bombarded with such egregious privacy abominations (if we can believe Oliver Stone's version), which might drive an ordinary person to do extraordinary things. 

But, his colleagues were similarly uncomfortable and didn't have the courage and/or circumstances to blow the whistle.  I was wondering while watching this movie what they were all thinking and feeling when they saw what he did.  Obviously the movie added dramatic flair and artistic license.  I also wondered if the last guards who saw him knew that they inadvertently let him walk away with all of that data.  And are they proud of him or ashamed?

Go see this movie.  It's important to discuss, even if you think he did wrong.  Several times, I got chills and goosebumps on my arms pondering the ramifications.  Make sure if you go with someone, to plan time afterward to confabulate with them while it's fresh in your mind.  I went with an East German friend of mine, who eerily said it was exactly like living in East Germany before the wall came down, knowing that all of your conversations were being recorded and you were constantly under surveillance.

Will this movie change anyone's mind or just solidify what we all already thought?  Will our president or congress think further on the matter?   Will more courageous people come forward if they see our country going against our founding principles?  Will journalists have the grit to ask the difficult questions and present the hard-to-hear facts?

Hero or traitor?

Mutha'fkn hero!  Duh.

stretch yoga

Whatever that is?

My 70+ year old neighbor felt sorry for me with all of my migraines and suggested I try a stretch yoga class with her.  I had no idea what it was, but she's too nice to say no to.  Plus, it sounded benign.

It turned out to be mostly older women, and was taught by two earth-mother types.  Or maybe lesbians.  It's very hard to tell them apart at that age.  Before the class, one asked about my limitations, so I told her I wasn't very flexible.  It's called a stretch yoga class, so I assumed there would be lots of stretching, and I can't always touch my toes.  I blame my long legs.  Let's forget for now that I have equally long arms.  :)

The class was held at one woman's home, and her dog greeted me first.  After he had jumped up on me and sniffed my crotch for a few minutes, she asked if I was okay with dogs, because if not, she could make him stop.  Haha, little late now, but I like dogs, so I wasn't upset.

We all went to lie down on yoga mats on her hardwood floor.  What's the point of a yoga mat?  It feels just as hard as the floor.  No cushioning at all.  And if it's for hygiene, that ship has sailed once I start using someone else's.  Maybe it's for gription during regular yoga, but we didn't stand at all.

The very first stretch was lying on our backs with our knees to our chest.  I'm used to my martial arts class where someone puts almost their whole weight on me to stretch until it is close to my pain tolerance.  This was like a butterfly pushing on me.  Granted I had just met her, so maybe she was testing my limits to see how I was.  She said I was very flexible, and I must have been comparing myself to highly flexible people.  At that point, I realized I wouldn't be getting stretched by my understanding, so I should just lie back and relax.

While I was lying on my back and stretching my arms above my head, her doggie came over and started licking my face.  That gave me the giggles and ruined my meditative state.  Not that I was very far into one.  I followed along, stretched my hips, and played with her dog, holding his mouth away from mine.

It was more about relaxation than actual stretching for me.  They kept saying it shouldn't hurt, but I've always learned that if I don't stretch until it hurts, I don't make any progress.  I lost a little bit of the relaxation when I was face-down on the mat, trying not to think of whose feet had been there before my face.  It's a good thing I'm not a germaphobe.

It was nice, and they were all very warmhearted people, but I don't think it's for me.

eye exam

Ugh. I'm at the optometrist and having an anxiety attack in the waiting room.  They're asking all these questions about if I want glasses or contacts.  I DON'T KNOW UNTIL AFTER I TALK TO THE DOC. 

But the receptionist keeps asking.

I want to run outside and leave.   Except they know me.  He's a family friend.   Sigh. 

Deep breaths, Wendy.   And it seems everyone's answer these days is surgery.  Which is what got me into this mess in the first place.   Gdam cut-happy fkrs.  

Also this neighborhood has changed a bit since I was here.  Fkn scary patients.  And the receptionist isn't much better.   She keeps ordering me where to sit.  I don't wanna sit there, mofo. Too many LOUD people nearby.

Now I know why I rarely go out.  Having such anxiety. 

And FUCKITYFUCK for the official reminder of exactly how bad that eye's vision is.  I started crying while explaining my problems with contact lenses and glasses.  Poor guy.  He was so sweet.  Patted me on the leg in an avuncular manner.  Handing me stacks of tissues.  I had wads in both hands when I left the exam room for the first time.  And that's why I keep going there.

He fixed me up as best he could, and I met my Pops for lunch.

the streak ended

The migraine hit early yesterday afternoon, along with severe thunderstorms.  Kitten was hiding under the bed.  I wish I could have joined her. The good news is that the rescue meds (Imitrex) seem to be working again.  YIPPEE!  The bad news is I that I needed them obviously.

Also, I woke up in the middle of the night having a panic attack from an anxiety dream.  

Three steps forward, eleventy-five backwards.  That's okay, I meant to go this way.  :)

anxiety and depression for a change

Fear of migraines makes me scared to go out and do things.  Conversely, feeling good makes me want to hurry up and have fun before the crippling pain sets in.  

The past few days have been pain-free.  Not sure how, but yay!  However, I've had extra dosings of anxiety and depression.  Way more tears and panic attacks than normal.  It's kind of weird and refreshing.  :P   

Of course it's very quiet and sparse tears, because too much crying is a trigger.  Controlled crying is like driving a muscle car with a governor on it.  Not at all satisfying, but still better than nothing.

exercise out of depression?

Why did I think going for a walk in this heat and humidity was a good idea?  My mood has plummeted today.  The anxiety and depression are quickly creeping up, but the migraine is staying at bay.  Almost two whole days.  Yippee.

I thought a walk in nature might get my blood flowing enough to lift my mood.  I'm still anemic, therefore much more than that gets me out of breath.  I saw a few birds, but it might have even been too fkn hot for the iguanas.  If I wait until it cools off, it's mosquito time.  Plus I may lose my motivation.

I came home, sweaty, crying, and out of breath.

Happy fucking Sunday.  :\

liar liar pants on fire

Are you ready to be bored?  Because apparently I *need* to write.

I was at a store where two men had a display up and were hawking therapeutic pillows.  I accidentally made eye contact, but I had a migraine (what a surprise) and wasn't in the mood to be sold.  One asked me if I was ready to get the best sleep of my life.  I looked him dead in the eye and said, "I already do."  That confused him for one whole second, but he was a consummate salesman and responded with a Big Gay Al "Fantastic!"

LIAR!

But I'm 99% sure it isn't lack of scientific pillows preventing me from sleeping well.  I have a GIGANTIC pillow graveyard of previous pillows which were the second coming of the Sleep Messiah. They all failed.  When I have a migraine, my pillow needs to be flawless.  No lumps.  Not too flat.  Not too thick.  Not too hard.  Basically, it has to be the Goldilocks of pillows.  I have different sizes on my bed for different moods and different sleep positions.  I probably could have asked Pillow Dude for a job selling pillows, for how much I've studied pillows and sleep.

Ahh well, off to watch Formula One Singapore Grand Prix qualifying.

emotional weather patterns

It still amazes me after decades of dealing with this, that my mood can change so drastically from feeling good to migraine depression and irritability, and back again once the migraine lifts.  It's like a storm front blowing through, and serene weather afterwards.  Some storms are sun showers.  Some are Cat 5 hurricanes.  Most fall in the middle.

It's been a particularly horrible Summer for me (16 migraines this past month).  Logically, I know these emotions originate from my brain misfiring or whatever the fuck is going on in there when a migraine tsunami starts.  However, I irrationally think I can control it better.

Somehow, I've gotten out of the habit of daily writing.  Mostly because I've been lacking any kind of meaningful social life (due to migraines) and felt I had nothing worthwhile to say.  It turns out I'm dumb because regular writing can (and sometimes did) elevate my mood.  I'm pretty sure barely anyone reads this anyway, so I will proceed to write about inane and/or depressing things.

Because I want to be better.

(I apologize in advance for boring you to tears.)

We rise to great heights via a winding staircase
  ---Francis Bacon

comfy shoes

I've been heavily debating on whether or not to quit my migraine clinical trial.  The pharmaceutical company changed the dosage, and it stopped working for me.  Not only that, but coincidentally, Imitrex stopped being effective as a rescue medication.  I've been crying to my neurologist's office, and they swear the two are unrelated.  They switched me to a different triptan, which wasn't any better. 

I was able to meet with their resident expert and get most of my questions answered.  She tabled one for a higher authority.

After much hand-wringing and soul-searching, I've decided to continue on.  Because WHAT FUCKING CHOICE DO I HAVE?  Stay on this trial that may start working again or quit and go back to similar pain and no hope.

I did get a compliment from a lesbian nurse on my comfy shoes.  So that's something, right?  :)

Bennu, here we come!

The purpose of yesterday's launch is to travel to a faraway asteroid, grab some samples, and come back to Earth.  It's more complex than that, but now you have the gist.

Time to go home.

Guess who forgot to pre-medicate before the drive?  Dumbass.  But I was feeling good and in denial.  I stopped at the world-famous Ron Jon Surf Shop to finally find some board shorts that fit.  They barely had any women's in their two-story monstrosity of a building.  Fkn sexists fkrs.  I managed to get two pair that I mostly liked.

By the time I got home, I could feel the yawns starting and the migraine about to hit.  I took an Imitrex and went to bed early.  Kitten was happy to see me, and I gratefully snuggled with her in my comfy bed.

rocket's yellow glare

Launch day!

Very glad I toured the Kennedy Space Center yesterday.  Today is packed!  And I'm dealing with migraine postdrome, so I'm exhausted and hypersensitive.  Plus it feels a million degrees Fahrenheit.  So many people.  And screaming kids.  But some of the annoying children look adorable in their plastic space helmets and full flight suits.

At lunch, I met a WW2 veteran, who had flown a P-51 over Iwo Jima.  He was also a VIP guest, and he introduced me to his half-Japanese granddaughter, of whom he seemed very proud.

They loaded us on buses to the Apollo Saturn V Center, where bleachers were set up for viewing.  While I waited, I was able to explore the exhibits and walk under the most ginormous rocket ever, which took man to the fucking moon!

The man in front of me on the bleachers worked for an Inuit-owned company which helped to build some of the instruments aboard.  Pretty much everyone there had a hand in working on this mission or knew someone who did.  NerdPride was running high.

As we got closer to launch, we stood for the Star-Spangled Banner, and a huge cheer went up at the rockets' red glare line.  I know there's quite a controversy about this anthem, particularly the third stanza, but only the first was sung, and it was quite moving.

When the countdown got to 10 seconds, we all stood and counted down with the announcer.

LIFTOFF!

Huge cheers and then on to the After Party.

Yep, you read that correctly.  There was an After Party, and it was packed!  I ended up bailing and going next door to eat some Florida lobster in peace and quiet.

such a gamble

I was invited to the latest Cape Canaveral rocket launch.    With VIP passes and everything.  But how would I survive three days, including a car trip, with no migraine?

Answer:  very carefully

I took half an Excedrin before starting the road trip (which seemed to help), checked in to get my badge, and proceeded to tour the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex in the heat of the day.  Dumbass.

It was amazing and educational.  And very humbling.

I stood near machinery that had traveled to outer space and back.  I really wanted to read more of the plaques at each exhibit and interact with the displays.  Alas, the migraine decided otherwise. I popped an Imitrex, ate some overpriced park food (yuck), and skipped some of the exhibits, especially the 3D IMAX movies.

I did watch the movie about the creation of the space shuttle.    By the end, I was ready to sign up and travel to space, migraine and all.

[Obligatory "we can put a man on the moon but we can't cure migraines, wtf?"]

That night was dinner with genuine Rocket Scientists.  How fucking cool is that??  They were pretty much as expected, except for the human component of being away from their families for a few weeks at a time and missing home.  I learned there is a quiet (but fierce) competition between the different rocket companies, now that NASA has opened it up to several.  At times, they even work together on the same mission.

I heard the 'where were you when the SpaceX rocket exploded' stories.  They were semi-nearby and assumed the boom and shake was an infamous Florida thunderstorm, until they learned otherwise.  It didn't seem to dampen their optimistic enthusiasm for success with tomorrow's mission.

 

hope is a demon

And yet I cling to it, because life is bleak without hope.  I wonder what survival skill was helped by hope.

My Summer has been riddled with migraines and pain and exhaustion.  Only a sliver of hope glistens here and there in rare moments of lucidity.

My friends and family try to check on me, but they all seem to be going through their own personal dramas and traumas.  And when we do finally connect, I know people are being nice, but they start making suggestions and it makes me focus on my problems again.  I work so hard to live in denial. Distract me please.  Don't talk my problems to death. 

happy Friday!

Here is my Vanda orchid blooming.

met one of my postal workers

I had to ship a package which didn't fit in my mailbox, so I waited outside when I saw the mailtruck at my neighbor's.  He was already in a cranky mood at 10am.  And I was on my best behavior because NEVER PISS OFF YOUR POSTAL WORKER.  He scanned my package in front of me, and explained in an accusatory manner that they're being cracked down on to do that.  I see why with them throwing entire bins of mail away.  I was pleased to see him scan it, although I have no fkn idea if it took.  Especially because it's not showing in the tracking system yet.  Sigh.

I wanted to ask him if he's the one who mows my garbage cans down, but I wasn't brave/stupid enough.  Besides, what if he said yes??

past my expiry date

When I was younger, I had a troubled youth and therefore assumed I'd be lucky to live until 30.  Especially because so many of my contemporaries were dying before age 20.  I'm well past both of those ages now, and I believe I have surpassed my freshness date.  Things are breaking left and right.  I feel like I'm held together by duct tape and willpower.  Actually, I wish something as strong as duct tape was holding me together.

The migraines are as bad as they've ever been, before getting on CGRP, my clinical trial meds.  In the last four weeks, I've had 13 migraines, with an average duration of over nine hours.   Add in pre- and post-drome times, and that's my fucking life.  In writing this post I looked at where I was last year, and apparently it wasn't great then either.  So maybe I just don't do well this time of year.  Whatever I have to tell myself to stay in denial.

On a cheerier note, my Vanda orchid is starting to bloom in direct line of sight from my office window.

pit of despair

I can feel myself sinking in.  I blame my health this time, not just my fucked up brain chemistry.  I feel hopeless about the migraine situation.  My eye started hurting again for no reason whatsoever.  No contact lenses were involved.  No mascara or eyeliner.  No beach sand.  Mostly I haven't left my house because I've been exhausted from the week-long migraine jamboree.

Emma Peel sent me a present from her trip to Scotland, so I have that to look forward to.  Right now, it's the little things keeping me going.

no really, this is the best year

To see the Perseids.  I know I said that last year, but apparently I fell for the hype.  This year is better because Jupiter is HUGE.  And gravity.  And blah blah blah.

I want to go outside and see them, but I still shudder in revulsion when I think about that giant possum who came up to me last year.  Also, miraculously, I'm sleeping better than I was a year ago.  Yippee for me.  I don't always wake up in the middle of the night anymore.

So remember tomorrow night, if you're awake after 1am (when the moon sets), go outside and look for some meteors.

happy & sad

When my head isn't throbbing and causing untold misery, I try to be happy and enjoy life.  I'm not always successful.  My feelings are quite contradictory.  For no apparent reason. 

Maybe I was born with a sad soul, and a happy personality did a walk-in at some point.  But there was some screw-up, and the sad soul never left like it was supposed to.  Or maybe in a parallel universe, it all worked out fine.  That's what I tell myself on particularly horrid days.  That somewhere in an alternate universe, I'm one happy motherfucker.  :)

I did it

new phone wallpaper

I've been reminding myself when I look at my phone that some days require only survival and nothing more.  It's been a week like that.  Maybe a month.  Perhaps a year, but let's not get carried away.

I've had a migraine every single day this week.  Every.  Single.  Day.  It's making me depressed as fuck because I'm starting to feel like this new dose of CGRP isn't working.  Gee, Wendy, what gave you that idea?  Apparently, everyone else is loving the doubled dose.  So of course I've been victim-blaming.  Maybe it's my near-perfect diet.  Maybe it's my pretty damn good sleeping habits.  There must be an iota of room for improvement.  Perhaps I'm just not wishing hard enough.

I had a meltdown a few days ago and told one of my neighbors that she's a horrible person.  In front of witnesses.  To be fair, she is a horrible person (people concurred privately to me), but it's certainly not my place to tell her.  And it doesn't say much about my people skills that I would say that.  Out loud.

Sigh.

C'mon, Wendy, you can survive one more day.  Today will not be the day that breaks you.

I guess I'm alive

As someone said to me, “Loneliness, longing, does not mean one has failed, but simply that one is alive.”

I feel like a failure lately.  My mood is tanking again.  My migraines have increased in severity, frequency, and duration again.  I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that is why my depression is hovering nearby.  It's hard to be happy or upbeat when pain is my constant foe.

The utter worthlessness of waking up each day is starting to feel illogical.  Fortunately (?) I'm smart enough to know most people make emotional decisions and not logical ones.  I'm grasping for something that my logical mind can cling to.  I've decided that the unusually, brutally hot summer is what is temporarily causing the migraines to beat the literal snot out of me.  That should at least get me through to September, right?

duck and cover is your friend

I had lunch with my dad yesterday and heard an old-timey story that I hadn't heard previously.  I love when those randomly pop out.  He said back in the 1960s (pre-Wendy), when they were living under constant threat of nuclear annihilation, that he had a camper fully stocked and ready to go at a moment's notice.  He didn't just have a bug-out bag, he had a bug-out truck.  Pretty sure that makes my dad a badass.  Most likely they never would have gotten the chance to go, but when they are teaching Duck and Cover for a bomb attack, a bug-out truck seems smart.

After lunch, I stopped at a park to exercise, enjoy nature, and play Pokemon.  While I was there, I met a woman walking her dog.  She asked if I was playing and found it hilarious that her son now wanted to go everywhere with her.  We conversed a bit, and she said the park was really hopping at night, but I said I was too nervous to walk through the dark by myself.  Then she said how she wouldn't just drop her son off for hours at a time (anywhere, not just at a dark park) because he was too young, and it's dangerous out there.  He's 16.  I think our newfound friendship ended when I said she might be helicoptering. 

Just me or does that seem a bit overprotective?  I know the world has changed a little from when I was a kid, but not really.  We're merely more aware of the monsters everywhere else.  She said his phone has a panic button on it, where it drops a GPS tag and texts out 911 with the touch of a button.  The geek in me wanted to ask more about how that works, but I decided it might come off as creepy.  I'm already a grownup hanging out in parks, playing children's games FFS.  :)

I'm all better now!

Just goofing.  But my eye is back to normal, thankfully.  Holy fuck, I was worried.  I almost risked going to the doctor.  I hate going to the fucking doctor.  They charge hundreds of dollars for a consultation (after insurance) and then say they don't know what the fuck is going on but probably really expensive surgery might make it better.  Or worse.  But probably better.  But maybe worse.  Good luck and don't forget to pay your bill!

I've done lots of socializing this past week, with people I really like.  Most of them.  It's hard to avoid some people when at a party.  I'm tired of making acceptable small talk.  And pretending to be interested in someone-I-barely-know's cousin's uncle.  Unless they super unique.  And you're a good raconteur.  Both of which are usually false.

Today I plan to speak to no one but Kitten.  And see no one in person.  I'm not complaining, though.  It was nice to be social again.  :)

pity party purpose

First time for everything I suppose.   I finally found a use for a PityParty.  My 'good' eye is swollen and hurting, no idea why.  But the tears from my depression are soothing it.  Yay?

In other news, my one whole minute of crying did not trigger a migraine.  Yay?  (I was scared to cry any longer for fear of a migraine.)

Baby steps.  

It's about to storm outside, so I may be premature in the "no migraine today" hope.

I'm overloaded again with mangoes, so I've started consuming them in smoothies (aka mango lassi), but of course I mixed in greens for health.  It's tasty, but I may be too lazy to keep making them.

stairlift to heaven

My neighbor, Totoro, finally came home from five weeks of hospital and rehab bullshit.  Not that kind of rehab, this was physical therapy.  And because she has really good insurance. 

It was so nice to see her and catch up.  She had her nails painted a pretty shade of pink, which she thought was too pink, but I assured her looked great. 

She also showed me her new stair lift.   And let me try it.   I'm such a bad ride person.  It moved slowly but very unevenly, so it got me a smidge dizzy.   Perhaps the week of migraines affected my vestibular system.  That's what I'll tell myself anyway. 

Knock on whatever superstitious item you can get your hands on, but my head has been better two mornings in a row.  I slept abysmally last night, woke every hour or so with not-quite nightmares, more anxiety-fueled scenarios.  Yay for no nightmares?  :)

my not-so-secret sorrows

At least on here.  In real life, I hide my sorrows.  Because who really cares?  Not many.  And not for long. 

Hello again, my old nemesis, Migraine.

I thought I bid adieu to my four day migraine.  It missed me, I guess, so it came right back the next day and was fkn unstoppable.  Two injections in a couple days is pretty bad.  Thank the fkn cosmos they work though.  I'm so tired of this.  And not just the matching bruises on each thigh.

I made plans for this weekend, and I already regret that.  Not because I'm an asshole and hate fun, but because I feel like I'll disappoint someone by canceling.  Maybe I'll be fine, she said wistfully.

What kind of life is this?  I'm on the latest and greatest meds for the last 50 years.  I'll try to hang on another year, because allegedly next year is my year.  I'm grateful there are people like Dr. Dodick, trying their hardest to make a difference.  But I am DEEP in my PityParty this morning.  Pushing back those tears so my head doesn't trigger again.  I can't even enjoy a good cry anymore.

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
   -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I have much to report

I ventured forth on foot yesterday to play Pokemon.  In the heat of the day.  Not my smartest move, but it felt good to exercise and sweat out some of the migraine medications (day three, go fuck yourself, Migraine).  The only other people I saw walking were other Pokemon players.  Two little eight-year-olds on skateboards were very friendly when they zoomed by to get to the Pokestop before me.  I acted nonchalant, but they knew.

Apparently every nerd knows because two other dudes in a truck hollered at me as they drove by.  Some sexist remark you ask?  Nope.  They shouted "Pokemon" like a rebel yell.

I caught a few Pokemon just hanging out on the sidewalk.  No cool screenshots because my augmented reality isn't working.  I also discovered a dead iguana and a dead curly-tailed lizard.  No dead humans though thankfully.

dead curly-tailed lizard

iguana remnants

gotta catch 'em all

I've been embracing my inner child lately.  And my inner nerd.  I was talking to some young internet friends about how silly their new game is.  I'm not sure what happened, but twenty minutes later, I had Pokémon Go installed on my phone.  

And after a full day of server and app crashing, I got sucked right in.  Yep, I'm a level 2 badass now.  

/Flex

This reminds me of the time RedBull did a promotional scavenger hunt.  I ended up with cases upon cases of disgusting beverages.  But I had fun tracking them down all over the city.  I even enlisted my friends and family to get more.  

So many posts about how to catch a Pokémon next door without looking creepy.  I felt like a criminal last night.  Slowly driving through dark parking lots.  Then reversing and cruising the next aisle to get closer to my virtual target.  I kept wondering how I would explain myself to a cop if I was spotted doing that and questioned.  This can go wrong in so many ways.  One teen already found a dead body while Pokémon hunting.

I suppose it's a great way to encourage kids to get exercise.  It probably doesn't work for me since I drove to all of mine.  In my defense, I had just exercised for 90 minutes.

I had a full night of shenanigans.  Exercise class, then pizza I don't love with fun friends,  then Apocalypse planning in the parking lot with aforementioned friends.  We also checked out the night sky, trying to see Jupiter behind the moon.  I ducked and covered when I saw 5 uniformed men walking our way.  They were firefighters, but my instincts were correct.  Stay away from the action.

After that, I rushed over to the grocery store before it closed.  It was amazing!  Lots of parking spaces.  Nice empty aisles.  No wait at the cashier, until I fucked up the whole chip and sign process.  Why is every machine different and tricksy?  I apologized to the woman behind me.  She was very relaxed and said she didn't mind.

As I was checking my phone (like you do) before driving home, I looked at my Pokémon app and noticed a swirly blue thing nearby.  I had no idea what it was, but I clicked it because why not.  I got stuff, I think.  And it was fun, with sparkles and sound effects.  I checked the map again and saw another blue thing across the street.  I weighed a quick drive-by against melting groceries and the migraine lurking in the back of my brain.  Swirly blue thing won.  And that's how addictions are created.

I hit three more swirly blue things on my drive home, and caught a few Pokémon.  There was another one so close to my house, but the melting groceries and the pounding migraine won that round.  Barely.

drive-by depression

I jinxed myself.  I was feeling great, and BAM!   Depression did a drive-by on me yesterday.  I probably should have expected it.  Last year was the same.  Fuck the holidays.  Fortunately, I recognized the signs early and aborted that downward-spiraling line of thought.  Only a few tears escaped their corral and leaked down my face.

Tonight, I am looking forward to NASA's Juno spacecraft doing a successful entry into Jupiter's orbit.  Yes, that Jupiter -- the giant planet a gazillion miles away, which is why it took five years to get there.  How cool is that?  Looking up at the cosmos helps me to keep my insignificant problems in perspective. 

(I don't know why the Ns are backwards in this picture.  Don't let it detract from the message.)

Rumpelstiltskin

I'm not sure why, but I've been feeling pretty great lately.  I almost hate to admit it and jinx myself.  I noticed that I have more energy for my friends' welfare now.  It's not all about me in survival mode thankfully.  I dislike when I'm selfish and in an emotional hole.

I try to be like a  sympathetic Rumpelstiltskin, spinning darkness into light, sadness into joy, depression into vitality.  Obviously without requiring someone's firstborn because I don't want kids, let alone someone else's.  :P

An energy healer told me my aura was thicker than it had been, from non-existent or razor-thin to five inches.  And it's white, in case that's important.  Apparently, I'm an Angel.  Or on my deathbed.  I guess there's not universal agreement on auras, but most tend to think white is a good thing.  While looking up aura colors, I read about how to detect auras.  But what if one is colorblind?  Does that affect one's ability?  I'm not a big believer in these things, but at this point in my life, I'll take any help and positivity I can get my sticky fingers on.

Why are they sticky you ask?  Because it's mango season!!  Yippee!!!

Christmas in June!

My mailman delivered a package to me today.  So did UPS.  So did some other courier service.  I have all kinds of stuff to sort through and decide if I'm keeping.  Mostly, I bought vitamins, which I'm keeping.  And some fancy salt.  I also bought some clothes.  I did a virtual fashion show via text to get opinions. 

I think I have new jeans.  I'm still on the fence about the shorts, although the reaction was positive.  I'll try everything on again later when I'm less cranky.  I need to try the jeans on with my boots to check the length.  Everything is super comfy, so now all I need to worry about is fit and fashion.  Fashion seemed to be a win from various opinions.

It all boils down to does my ass look fat in this [insert item here]?  Not many people will answer that both honestly and nicely.  And I feel the need to modify that question to "am I too old to wear this?"  Fuck, I hate when insecurities raise their ugly faces.

par-tay

I was invited to a party this past weekend by a casual friend from my martial arts school.  Pretty sure she felt sorry for me, but I've known her for years, even though we've never socialized much beyond class.  She lives far as fuck from me, but that wasn't too bad as I don't drink.  And traffic was sparse.  And traveling at close to the speed of light. 

I had no idea she knows so many people.  It was lots of fun and felt like a real club inside.  Strobe lights, LOUD music, and a DJ with the headphones on one ear.  Plus she had all kinds of food, including homemade empanadas by Juan.  I went back for thirds.

I knew only her and my workout partner, but I managed my social anxiety very well.  Maybe not very well, but well enough.  I pulled out my phone only three times the whole night.  And twice was to check the star map (which doesn't work on my new phone, grrrr).  Plus everyone was super nice. 

I woke up the next morning with a hangover.  Fkn migraines.  I didn't stay up too late, and I drank a bottle of water.  Oh well, at least my head felt good during the party.                                          

no happy endings

It was a slow day yesterday at work, so I made an executive decision to play hooky.  I had my new functional phone and could monitor email as necessary.  And then I promptly forgot about my phone for hours at a time.  It was lovely. 

I visited a good friend of mine who has also had a difficult year.  We commiserated and caught up since the last time we'd seen each other, a few months prior.  We talked, laughed, and even teared up a little.  Mostly we laughed. 

Her husband was working nearby and said 'fuck this shit, I'm stressed.'  So we all piled into their car and went for an Asian foot massage.  Which also includes some neck and back.  I was attired all wrong for this activity, but I went with the flow.  I had on my lace-up boots and skinny jeans.  Somehow even my racerback bra was wrong. And of course, my hair was in the way, and Massage Dude had to pull it up, twist it, and clip it.  When he later went to remove the clip, he learned that hair clips and curly hair do not play well together.

It was quite an unusual experience.  No one gets naked, except for your feet.  Everyone is in one big, dark room, spaced abut three feet apart from each other.  And many beefy Chinese men massage according to a schedule.  I kept peeking during my time because it was fascinating.  The masseurs clock-watched like mofos.   Not sure if because of their schedule or because they wanted their day to end.  At one point, I heard applause and wondered what the fuck was going on.   Turned out it was massage noises.  They punch and slap and really take it seriously. 

Some douchebag in a red Porsche parked in front.  In two spaces.  And then worked on his phone the whole time instead of relaxing.  I wanted to go back in and slap him, too.  But I was too relaxed by then.

do you, uh, phone?

Of course you do, because we're all incapacitated without our phones glued to our hands.  My phone intermittently stopped working, displaying SIM card errors.  So, I got a new SIM card.  That didn't fix it.  They sent technicians out to my cell towers.  Nope.  They flushed the SIM cache (no fkn idea if that's even a thing) by activating my old phone and then my new one again.  Nope.  A reboot would usually fix it, but after a few weeks of troubleshooting, I opted for a new phone.  They did explain to me how my phone is a computer, and 18 months is very old for a computer.  What the actual fuck?

Now, I'm suffering from buyer's remorse.  I like how my old phone did things.  I prefer the placement of buttons on my old phone.  I liked the programs better.  I liked the virtual keyboard better.  I liked the lock screen better.

I'm trying to see the positives of my new phone.  It works, which is a big item in its favor.  :)

Wendy, be grateful that you have a working smartphone, with which to communicate to people.  Heaven forbid if you actually had to interact in person.  :)  

happy father's day

My present to my Pops is two hours of my time yesterday cleaning 1,639 instances of malware off of his PC.  I have no idea how/why he does this.  I recently cleaned it a couple of months ago.  Yesterday, he decided to install some shit.  Sigh.  Of course he swears he did nothing different.  Fuck those malware creators, preying on old people.

I suppose it keeps me on my toes. 

You know what else keeps me on my toes?  All night migraines.  FUCK.  I guess I'll suck it up and fake it when I see him today.