Traces on my face,
the falling drops of water -
taste like stormy sea

Asura Cryin` 2 Episode 7

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Episode 8 kommt laut Chihiro warscheinlich in 1-2 Tagen.

I think the theme for my week has been avoidance. Maybe it has been my theme for more than a week…but I’ve noticed it a lot this week.

99% of my conversations this week have consisted of the:

person: what’s up?

me: nothing much, you?

Big Fat Lie right there. Maybe nothing much is up. But that’s because everything is down.

Sure, everyone doesn’t need to know every dirty speck in my life. But I don’t want to be a liar. I don’t want to be two-faced. It’s hard to be broken on the inside and look good on the outside. And i don’t want to be fake. thus the extreme tension.

But this avoidance thing hasn’t just manifested itself in my everyday acquaintance relationships. I see it in my relationships with people i genuinely trust. The people I trust to share in what i’m going through with. I’ve been avoiding their prodding. Their questions. Them. The hard conversations I need to have with them.

I am a scared-y-cat.  But I don’t want to run away from Truth. I don’t want to run from reality. I don’t want to be two-faced. I don’t want to wear a mask.

I want to be me. But I’m not sure how to be me when I can’t really tell the world what’s going on in my life.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7

I want to live in His power, love, and discipline. I don’t want to run from the truth. I don’t want to run from Him. He is truth.

Jesus is the Truth and He tells us the truth.

I want to be Christ-like.

What are you running from?

Trying to drive in the right direction,

coop

I have not watched Dancing with the Stars (DWTS) in a while but this time I started watching late in the season.  I love the Osbournes and routed for Kelly the whole way.  Until I watched Donnie Osmond’s first dance on Monday night.  Well I fell in love.  He won, Kelly came in third.  I am happy and well I will see how it goes with Season 10…  Watch or not to watch that is the question!?

Went to see New Moon this past week-end…  Not impressed.  I loved the book it was my fave of all four I read it in one day at the cottage.  The movie just didn’t do it justice!  Jake all the way for me peeps!  Not contest in my mind!  Love me some werewolves! 

Have been skimming through blog roll here some really good blogs and writing you should do the same when you have some time.

Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat, please put a penny in the old man’s hat if you haven’t got a penny a ha’penny will do if you haven’t got a ha’penny then god bless you!  Picture Miss Piggy and John Denver!  I love it.  Gotta break out the CD!!!!  I am so very excited, I am sure it is going to be a good year for us!  I have done most of the shopping only about two more to go! 

Work have been good nothing too much to report.  I for the first time actually enjoy coming to work. 

 Cell phone is busted.  Every timeJames calls it hangs up on him!  LOL!  I think it’s hilarious and it just really ticks him off!  Oh and I busted my Parking break in my car and with a manual trannie it ain’t a good thing!

 Love, happy to be in it! 

Was going to do a pic of the day but found this on YouTube instead!  And they say dogs are dumb!

Here’s a quick recipe too!  They have a new Budget wise section on Kraftfoods.com and a big Potluck section for Christmas and US thanksgiving coming!

http://www.kraftfoods.com/kf/recipes/chicken-parmesan-bundles-107338.aspx

So, I am going to the One of a Kind show with  my Mother-in-law and Grandmother this Sunday!  I have not been in years, should be fun! 

Along with the One of a Kind we used to go to the Sugar Plum Fair every year at Casa Loma, it was the National Ballet of Canada’s major fundraiser.  Kinda miss it.  We always got these chocolate and caramel covered apples from a place called Treemendous apples.  I don’t know if they still exist!

I am really very sad that  Eastwick has been cancelled it was really the only new show this season that I liked. 

Jon and Kate plus Eight signed off on Monday night!  I am really sad!  I am going to miss that show quite a bit.  STOOPIT  Jon.  Criminal Minds and Vampire Diaries have moved into my fave show category although I am really leaning towards Table for 12 as a replacement and in the end I still have 18 (soon to be 19) Kids and Counting! 

It’s kinda funny that this season I didn’t watch too much of the reality TV, I have not watched Survivor, missed a few of the Hell’s Kitchen, got board with ANTM to the point I PVR’d it and skipped to the end every week so I could just see who got kicked off!  I am getting back to the dramas except when it comes to TLC.  Oh who am  I fooling, still watching the Housewives and Tori and Dean.  Still watching Canada’s Worst Driver!  I love it!  My newly discovered Rescue Ink is GREAT too!

Had lunch with an old friend and her puppy last Friday!  It was nice!  This time of the year is always good to reconnect!  

I miss my best friend we don’t see nearly enough of each other.  Lives are too busy!

A shout of Sympathy to my long time friend MAB.  You have an angel watching down over you know.  Just know that Snoopy is with Tiny and Mowhawk now!  You will always have him in your memory! 

The loss of a loved and cherished pet is devastating especially when they are nearing their 20s.  Here is a website that helps with this…  http://www.pet-loss.net/index.shtml However you need to remember that you have to go through the stages or grief the same as you would with a Human being!  Don’t let anyone tell you any differently!  http://www.petloss.com/rainbowbridge.htm

Well that is me done!  Going to sign off now!  Have a good one!  I won’t leave it so long in between next time! 

sweet lila

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They’re really saying I love you.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more than I’ll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

Love this! Here are some of my favorites with my comments in italics:

I’m a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.

Lord, here I am, send me. Keep breaking my heart for what breaks yours. Let Your love overflow.

No moment from my God is a rock of burden…it’s just a rock waiting to be broken apart into stepping stones.

Even this moment…this moment when I’m laying on the floor crying. You are using it to make a stepping stone toward something beautiful.  You are the potter. I am the clay.

choose joy

here am I. I choose You tonight and Your joy.

if what you do does not resonate with you… it is not really going to matter to anyone else.

talking about passion gets me energized and makes me come alive. talking about kids and life changes and God completely invading your heart…yeah, that’s the good stuff.

some pursue happiness..others create it

I may not control the circumstances, but I choose joy and I choose to let God give abundant life in Him.

fashion your life as a garland of beautiful deeds.

let everything I say and do be a reflection of You.

There awaits a plethora of memories whenever we look back at the years behind us.  Some are pleasant and some are poignant.  The first we try to relish and relive in the present, but the latter we strive to bury within the deepest recesses of the past.  Try as we might, however, bitter memories tend to surface again and again, even during our guarded moments.  The supreme irony is that the more you try to forget sour memories the more you remember them.  In my case regrets are on top of a quite long list.

 My relationship with my late father wasn’t strained, but it was highlighted by silence rather than sharing.  When I was growing up I remember that I was more at peace whenever he wasn’t around; in fact I was happy.  Not that I didn’t love him but because I and my siblings feared him.  Fear then was supposed to be interchangeable with respect.  Literally fearing one’s parents was a filial duty.  There was hardly any talk about affection; feelings were cloistered because expressing them was a sign of weakness.  And of course it was unmanly.  I was part of a generation that was led to believe that crying was a feminine thing. 

 I don’t have the slightest doubt about my father’s love for us; he just never said it.  He had shortcomings (and who had none?) but he did his level best in seeing us through the harshest of times.  He always believed that education was the one and only ticket out of the dire straits and he made sure all seven of his children would have a ticket each.   For a carpenter who sometimes moonlighted as a cornick-salesman, it was certainly something to be very proud of.

 Since I wasn’t close to him, getting married and raising my own family was an immense reprieve.  Although grateful for everything that my father did to me, I was happy with a life that was far and away from him.  I seldom came home to see him because it would infringe on my freedom.   And when I halfheartedly did, our meetings were still enveloped in formalness. 

 The stiffness began to melt a little after my mother died and he took a new wife.  He was then 69 years old and was getting sickly.  He would tell me stories of his childhood that was disrupted and stunted by the war.  Of his efforts to raise a family despite numerous odds.  Of his conflicts with his own parents and siblings.  Of how he had wanted me to succeed.  He had begun to open up, yet I knew he was still trying to hold back.   I was, too.   

 Even when he lay dying in a hospital many years later, he wasn’t very forthcoming.  I was in his room when he quietly slipped away.  There were neither goodbye hugs nor kisses.  No parting words.  He just left us.  And unlike when I was young, I didn’t feel happy.  I felt empty.  Regrets began to gnaw away at my heart from then on.  There were just so many words that were left unsaid.  So many acts of love that were left undone.  Today I often find myself murmuring: “I wish I had….”

Just when I needed it, I received this from a parent of one of my students:

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of

school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked

at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was

impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a

little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did

not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he

constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got

to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his

papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then putting a big ‘F’ at

the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each

child’s past records and she put Teddy’s off until last. However, when she

reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy’s first grade teacher wrote, ‘Teddy is a bright child with a ready

laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners… he is a joy to be

around..’

His second grade teacher wrote, ‘Teddy is an excellent student, well liked

by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal

illness and life at home must be a struggle.’

His third grade teacher wrote, ‘His mother’s death has been hard on him.

He tries to do his best, but his father doesn’t show much interest, and his

home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken.’

Teddy’s fourth grade teacher wrote, ‘Teddy is withdrawn and do esn’t show

much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and he sometimes

sleeps in class.’

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.

She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents,

wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy’s. His

present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a

grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the

other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a

rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was

one-quarter full of perfume.. But she stifled the children’s laughter when she

exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the

perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough

to say, ‘Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.’

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day,

she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to

teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she

worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged

him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of

the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love

all the children the same, Teddy became one of her ‘teacher’s pets..’

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her

that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote

that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still

the best teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things

had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck w ith it, and would

soon graduate from college with the highest of honours. He assured Mrs.

Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had

in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he

explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a

little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite

teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer…. The letter

was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that

spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He

explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was

wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place

that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs.

Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several

rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume

that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson’s ear,

‘Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making

me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.’

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back.. She said, ‘Teddy,

you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a

difference. I didn’t know how to teach until I met you.’

(For you that don’t know, Teddy Stoddard is the Dr at Iowa Methodist in

Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.)

Warm someone’s heart today. . . pass this along. I love this story so very

much, I cry every time I read it. Just try to make a difference in

someone’s life today? tomorrow? just ‘do it’.

Random acts of kindness, I think they call it!

‘Believe in Angels, then return the favor

These new age sensitive bank robbers have got to toughen up for goodness sakes! The “Doom and Gloom” bandit entered the Santa Barbara Bank & Trust handed over a note and threatened to kill people, before leaving in a flood of tears, despite the fact he had a bag full of money. Geez, what do you want, a friggin medal of valor? Friggin sook! Serves him right if the red dye explodes all over him!

I caught up with a good friend the other day.  It had been a while and she was telling me the events that had been going on in her life, the good, the bad and the ugly.  We were talking about work when she said,  “And the other day, I cried in front of HR, I can’t believe I cried in front of HR”.

“Don’t worry” I told her, “You know what, this very morning I stopped off to by a new box of tissues.  People in HR, we’re used to it.  Folks cry all the time.”  And its true.  I have seen men and women cry from the most senior to the most junior. I have seen blubbers and sniffers and blinkers and more people than I can remember get “something in their eye”.

Most people need to work.  Most people spend a lot of time at work.  And we see them going through some of the hardest situations that they will come across, whether it is a disciplinary, redundancy, maternity, rejection, restructure or mediation to name but a few.  These are stressful moments in their lives and they are allowed to react like human beings.  That is only normal.

What is abnormal is to think less of someone because they are stressed or upset.  It is abnormal for HR to want to be so hard and macho in its drive to appear “commercial” that it loses touch with how people feel, how they are impacted and what they fear.  Sure bring on the jokes about tissues and sympathy, bring on the snide comments about HR being soft.

I deal with people.  People have emotions.  I’m ok with that.  It’s those that aren’t that have a problem.

Last night I went to Micheal McIntyre’s Wembley gig. It was hilarious. I laughed from start to finish and thought that my evening of comedy ended after his encore. Little did I know. I got on the tube, and started to take off my coat. I got just past my neck and realised the zip was stuck. So I start to tug, and tug, and tug. It was properly stuck. The friends I was with, being the supportive, helpful bunch they were started laughing, drawing the attention of fellow travellers to my plight.

Mild panic, slight claustrophobia, a sharp increase in body temperature and unavoidable humiliation set in. Obviously this did not help. Nor did the fact that I started to laugh…and having had quite an emotional week, the laughing turned to crying. I was on the brink of what my closest friends know as “the laughing/crying thing” (to be avoided at all costs). Seeing my acute stress – Rach, one of my oldest and dearest friends, just sat back an laughed, and nudged her mum out of her seat to help me. So now I am stuck in my coat, overheating, laughing, crying and now I have my friends mum, and my friend Gemma trying to free me from the zip. How embarrassing! All the while I can see more and more people trying not to look – but desperate to watch this most ridiculous of events from their front row seats.

You would think it would end there. Oh no. Rachel’s Mum had to give up, so Gemma took over. Her tactic was to be slow and gentle, speaking to me calmly (a red, mascara streaked giggling mess) and ever so gently tugging at the fabric wedged in the zipper – well that was after she tried the tugging with all her might tactic and punched me in the face. I promise you I am not making this up.

Fortunately just as we entered Zone 2 I was liberated. I believe there was even a cheer and a round of applause. I think everyone on the carriage certainly felt like they got their money’s worth of live comedy for one evening.

And I am off to buy a new coat. With buttons.

Whenever my leg/foot swells up like last night, the veins pop out in my foot. Yuck. Anybody know why? Is it from the pressure of the swelling?

This is not to be confused with when my foot turns purple. That happens to all my toes and the toe half of my foot. I think it looks kinda cool, and best of all…it DOESN”T hurt to be cold and purple

My upper leg gets veins popping out, too, from swelling. The dent hurts REALLY bad It stings and has sharp pains. Luc kept telling me I had to go to the ER and he was taking me. I told him I’m too big to forcibly move! The fluorescent lights in the ER make me so sick that I have to be feeling like I’m going to die before willingly going.

Perhaps later I will take one of my Vicodins. Tears keep sneaking out because it hurts so much I can feel every muscle in my body tensed up. What a wimp…

Still having gut distress. At this point docs could do a colonoscopy without bothering to clean me out first. Ugh. It HAS to be the Clindamycin.

A subject that I have addressed earlier in my blog was conversation and dating issues. Today I will continue with that theme by talking about playing games in dating. A concept that do not really make sense to me, but a matter that I have talked to people about that do believe in them. I tried to grasp these perceptions, but I am unable to make sense of them and I will explain why these things are not good guidelines to follow in dating.

Lets start out with this stupid notion of playing “hard” to get or for guys to not seem desperate. I don’t know who invented these absolutely moronic rules about dating such as the three day rule. For those of you that don’t know about it, it means a guy cannot call a girl after going out with her for three days. Whoever came up with these rules has completely made the dating scene much more difficult than it has to be and the people that follow these rules are just self-doubting and unconfident people. Why is it that in dating people have to play by some rules that have been set forth by someone else? You should be yourself, act like yourself and do things that you would normally do. What good does it do that you put on a fake show like a lot of people like to do? Your personality and the true you will come out. Just let it out initially and it will save you and the other person a lot of time if in the end when both of your true personalities come out and neither of you like the other person for who they really are. For some reason by talking to the other person very little, ignoring them completely or any other sort of weird concept people think they are giving of a signal of not being desperate or easy. The only signal that sends is the fact that you are immature and have no idea how to act as an adult. What baffles me the most is that almost all of the people that resort to these tactics are exactly the way they do not want to be perceived. They end up sleeping or doing something else with the people they meet. Where is the logic in this type of behavior? Why it is that people try to playing these immature games, but are afraid to go out on normal dates? They complain about the type of people they meet and they just want to meet decent people. Well if you know that what you have been doing doesn’t work out isn’t it time to change the way you go about meeting people of the opposite sex and your pattern of dating?

Until next time

Ta ta

Day One: So this is it. It’s finally over between us. Knowing me, I need to vent and express myself and considering my other blog is no longer private – thanks to you, I’m assuming – I deleted it and started this one. I wanna blog as often as I can, not just about how much I hate you or miss you, but also what day has been…my days without you. And hopefully by the time I realise that I’m over you… I can look back on these entries…and laugh.
I know that won’t happen anytime soon, and as rhe starting point to all this, I got off the phone with TN a little while ago. And I cried to him. I cried so hard. And he’s convinced me that I shouldn’t be with you. It’s not that I deserve better, it’s just that we’re not suitable for each other. You’re not my match, and I’m not yours. I promised him I wouldn’t call you, so I won’t. It’s time for me to get my life in order. And that starts today.

SO we were up in NC at the ren faire and had a great time. We had to wait almost an hour to park in stop and go traffic. Mental note: next year leave at 6am to drive the 2 hours, wait in traffic, and then enjoy the entire faire. We go back to the car afterwards and then the tires don’t go round and round. Just the rear left tire. The brakes have been making a grinding sound for a couple of months but not all the time. Of course, never when I take it to my dad at the dealership.

So after getting out of the car and watching the tire just not move, oh except in reverse a 1/4 of a turn, we are now blocking the main road. These wonderful people from Sumter,SC stopped and tried to help. I did not know that I had a spare under my car and a jack in a secret compartment. The things you learn….

So the tire is off, it is getting dark and cold, and my son is crying because the car is broke.  I’m shaking because it is out of my control. My baby is broke. So we call AAA. Oh our account has expired. Sigh. So we re-new it. We always had the plus account. So we re-newed it, however, it takes 5 days to get approved. Even though we paid for it, we can’t use it for 5 days. Long story short….2.5 hours in a tow truck with my husband, son, the driver and me. And a $444 tow bill. There goes Christmas….

I HATE AAA….

Most of us are very tired today as AmberG kept us awake last night with her crying.

I didn’t get to bed till almost midnight anyway, having been to the Pure Groove store near Smithfields Market to watch a screening of the new ATP film.  Then the Lovely Melanie and I were woken – and kept woken – by AmberG.

Our sleep “regime” with the girls has always been quite a harsh one: we both agree that to keep going in to see them every time they cry is just asking for trouble in that they’ll learn that -

crying at night = giving them attention = more crying at night

So when we hear crying, unless they sound extremely upset, we usually ignore it; and for the most part this strategy has worked extremely well – both our girls are exemplary sleepers.

Usually.

We didn’t reckon upon AmberG having A LOT more patience than Millie ever had; she can – and last night did – keep going for hours.

The Lovely Melanie twice went in to see what was wrong and give her a cuddle.

Nothing was wrong.  AmberG stopped crying.

The Lovely Melanie came back to bed.

AmberG started crying again.

So we fell back on our tried and trusted technique – ignoring it.  But it’s very very hard to ignore a crying child for over an hour at three o’clock in the morning.

Despite it being very very hard we just about managed to do it, but everyone (except Millie, who slept through it all) is dog tired today.

in all honestly, i really like crying.

if i could, i would cry everyday.

i remember doing it when i was really little (around 3rd grade?) at night right before i fell asleep on my bed. it was kind of a strange nightly ritual i did to lull myself to sleep….and it’s not like i was sad either. i just did it. it just happened. O_O
and then one day i told my mom that i cried every night for no good reason and then she told me that maybe i should stop. and then i did.
..yeah, that was the end of that.

ANYWAY, so back to modern day.
so it’s not like i want to waste all of my precious tears so that they wont lose their worth&meaning. i just kind of want to have that…cathartic&rested feeling that one gets after crying. it’s so peaceful. i could just fall asleep instantly if i cried all the time. it would be a little weird for my roommates though. they would just see me burst into tears for no apparent reason…

wow. this was a really strange entry post thingy dingy.

in other news:

im doing really strange things to my hair. good strange things.

AND I AM SO EXCITED FOR THANKSGIVING. our family may come from asian origins, but we seriously go ALL OUT during thanksgiving. we are pretty “american” in that way…
and i love cooking yummy food and eating it wif my family. and seeing if my brother is going to participate in the family activities and what odd/annoying things my mom will say and stuff like that.

gahh food. food. FOOD!

this thanksgiving is a bit different b/c my sister is gone. it’s okay though, all she did was make some lame honey&buttered corn and mashed potatoes. ANYONE CAN DO THAT. HAH. HAHAHHAHFJKFAKJSL;D!!! she cannot come here and beat me up b/c she is in taiwan. muahhahaha

anyway, here is what our thanksgiving menu will hopefully turn out to be:

-delicious roasted turkey made by my father. it is seriously so bomb. the secret: salt water bath night before!
-stuffing made by my dad
-gravy made by dad
-potaotoes au gratin made by me mem emem emememmemee!!
-wild rice&corn made by me
-korean foods made by dad&momma
-cranberry sauce from DUH CAN!! YUMMAYY! i love diz shtuff. it’s all..jello-y and delicious. i dont understand why people dont like cranberry from a can. IT’S FROM A CAN!!
-BOMB salad: crispy romaine lettuce, avocadoes (oh yeah, now u know that it’s going to be bomb..), tomatoes, heart of palm, red onion. plus a simple vinaigrette  of rice vinegar+oliveoil+lemon juice. 
-dessert: apple cake crips that my dad always buys from costco.
-dessert: chocolate pie made by me
-dessert: pear crisp?? made by me

so if you havent noticed, a lot of these recipes i am getting from the pioneer woman’s blog! yall should seriously check out her blog! she is seriously …the..best…

i secretly want to be her when i grow up. no joke.

I just finished watching the movie My Sister’s Keeper. I have never blubbered during a movie like that before- it took me 2 rolls of toilet paper. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a movie so powerful, I’m absolutely dumbfounded.

I recommend this movie, only if you’re already really depressed and in for a night of crying yourself to sleep.

Oh my. I don’t even know what else to say about it. Nuts.

My leg looks even worse than this Just in the last hour it started swelling up. The dent is a cavern. There are new big lumps and bumps. It itches like crazy. I’m breaking into hives again. I burst into tears and want to hide. I do not want to go back to the ER. The very first time I ever had a real DVT clot in my leg was Thanksgiving day 1984.

My leg hurts really bad….and more by the second. I just got up. My leg is hot and swollen tight all the way up my leg. I moved to the bed and am lying flat. Geeeeeeeeze…it hurts

If I close my eyes will it all go away?

These past few days have been stressful to say the least. Lauren came to live with us under stressful circumstances, we crammed to get her grades up, enrolled her into a new school, and twice we have had to go to her mom’s to pick up clothes (even though DSS ordered HER to bring them to us) and she has been very catty with me. I was still nice, because nothing that woman says had any effect on me. If her lips are moving then she is probably lying, and I am always amused when people behave with an air of superiority and knowledge when they have no accomplishments or intellect as a basis. The first visit she tried to take a jab at me being Mensa (but instead insulted her daughter with her statement, which pissed me off when I thought about it). The second trip she brought up the butterfly earrings that went missing the last weekend that Lauren was with us and was defensive, saying that everyone wants to blame Lauren whenever something goes missing, yadda yadda. I just let the wind blow. No point in trying to have a conversation with her. She is used to just yelling and getting really loud, not actually listening.

This reminds me: Why do we use the reference of a female dog in heat when a woman behaves like a mean Siamese cat? Odd.

So we got through Lauren’s birthday.

So now to address the title of this post…….

Saturday night was the 2nd offense of a hurtful event created by my husband.

In the middle of my depression, we would take Lauren to sing Karaoke.  Robert sings very well, and he would sing “You Look Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.  He would look at me when he sang it, and it made me feel good.  Then one night, just a couple of weeks from my “breakdown”, he sang it again.  This time he sang it to Lauren.  He brought her up there and sang to her, and she looked at him with such raw emotion that her face was frozen as she smiled and swayed to the music.  That night it upset me so much that I immediately demanded we leave.  I cried most of the night.

Saturday a couple asked him to sing it again.  When he got up, he dedicated the song to his daughter for her 13th. She stood up there at the table and the same look was on her face again.  I can’t blame her for her reaction, because it gave me the same feeling.  I held it together better this time.  I told her not to just stand there, go up there.  Then I sank back into the booth, turned on my Iphone, and ignored everything around me.  It was the only way I could handle it.  I talked to him later that night, twice.  The first time, he heard me but didn’t understand.  The second time, in bed, he told me he he was so sorry that he hurt me.  He said he didn’t think and he was sorry, etc….he was sincere.  I appreciated his words so much, and we made love.

I told him that I didn’t want to go back there again.  There is nothing there for me anymore but anxiety because he took that song away from me and gave it to someone else.

Movie Review time!!!

If you are looking for a pick-me-up movie to watch on Friday night I suggest not renting “Up”. The movie Up is one of the latest films from the folks at Pixar.  The movie starts off soft and melancholy as we see a nerdy young boy who dreams of adventure sitting in a theater.  Then he hooks up and gets married and that is where the happiness ends.  It starts with a miscarriage of a baby, death of his wife, developers trying to take his home, and getting sent to an old folks home. Then sprinkle in an orphan wood scout, rebuked bitter explorer, talking dogs and an almost extinct species of bird and the recipe of sadness is complete.

I may never recover from this movie!

Taylor's Refresher San Francisco at the Ferry Plaza

Until Saturday afternoon, I had never caused a public scene. Well, not one that I remembered anyhow. The following story shall be blamed on hormones.

My husband and I were in Napa for our Babymoon, and stopped for lunch at the long-standing diner, Taylor’s Refresher, on 1st Street in Napa. We ordered garden burgers. I realized after we had put in our order that we weren’t asked if we wanted cheese, and we both did. So I returned to the counter with money and receipt in hand to ask that cheese be added to our burgers.

The lady behind the register was clearly irritated by the request, but began to comply, charging me $2.18 for the cheeses. Then, she checked with her line cooks, who said the order was already ready. She told me that “your order’s done. No changes.” She shoved my money back across the counter. I said, “really, because no one asked us if we wanted cheese, and that seems like an oversight, and–”

With a nasty sneer, she said, “it’s right there on the menu, sweetheart.” She shook her head at me and turned to another customer.  Seriously? I told her that I wouldn’t be returning to this restaurant and walked back to the table. Our order came up momentarily, and my husband picked it up. But I was so angry with this woman, who had been so rude to a VERY pregnant lady who clearly needed cheese, that I said I didn’t want to stay.

My husband packed up our things and took me outside, but I didn’t get far. At an outside table far from other customers, I sat down and broke into hysterical tears. “Why would she be so mean?” I asked. “I was willing to pay for the cheese. Why did she treat me like I’m stupid?” More hysterics. My husband had never seen anything like this from me, and was woefully inept to deal with it. But the guy at the table behind us came right over.

“I’m a manager here, what can I help you with?”

I was crying too hard to say anything, so my husband filled the guy in. He immediately took our garden burger order (with the cheese) and told us he would get us new burgers. He then brought us sweet potato fries on the house, and apologized for the woman behind the counter (who he insisted was a really nice person–yeah, to her boss I’m sure she is.)

I had never had such an experience before. We got new burgers, and free fries, and a nice apology, and all I had to was break into hysperical tears. I’m thinking of making it a regular thing.

Though this Onion article is clearly written in jest, it raises an interesting point:

The entire office staff of Altman & Hanson Accounting remained utterly baffled as to what, if anything, should be done in response to the prominent sobbing coming from the cubicle of 36-year-old clerk Jack Underwood, sources reported today.

Leaving aside the usual jokes about pay cuts and furloughs and loss of benefits, it’s entirely possible that one of your coworkers may indeed be crying at his or her desk at some point.

What do you do?

Well, for starters, if you’re the person who needs to cry, the professional thing to do is find somewhere private to break down and then compose yourself. Bathrooms are good — especially if your floor has a semiprivate one hidden somewhere — as are conference rooms not being used at the moment or, if you can make it in time, your car.

If you are the observer of the tears, you have three options:

1. Ask what’s wrong.
2. Ignore it completely.
3. Poll your coworkers to see if anyone has an answer.

The most likely of these, of course, is item 3, which not only saves you from having to deal directly with the person in tears while satisfying your inner need to gossip and making sure that the crying coworker’s plight is communicated to as many people as possible.

Next-most-likely is item 2, ignoring it — it’s likely that the person crying can’t control himself or herself, which is why s/he is sitting at his/her desk instead of escaping to somewhere else. Depending upon how well you know the person, you probably already know if you should ask what’s wrong or just keep moving on.

And then there’s item 1, which is getting involved. For those looking to form an extracurricular relationship, this can be a great door-opener — sit down, talk, and squirrel away those brownie points. It’s a definite in. Just remember that you could be getting yourself into a huge mess — what if the problem involves your mutual boss? What if that person got fired but you didn’t? Or, worst of all, what if it’s something you don’t think is worth the tears? Can you trust yourself not to say “man up, Nancy!” and instead respond kindly?

Of course, there are times when you can’t help it. Once, a co-worker of mine got a call that his brother had suffered a stroke and it took him some time to recover. At that time, we were part of a tightly-knit department and we all offered to help out. He was fine after an hour or so and declined our offers to cover his shift. His brother is now on the road to recovery, and most of us met him on his last visit to the office.

Personally, the best option in my opinion is to ignore it. As I said, if the person can’t get out of there in time, there’s a good reason for it, and unless that person is your work-wife or work-husband, you probably shouldn’t get involved.

The same, by the way, goes for angry coworkers who can’t stop expressing how they feel. Just remember to duck.