Oh, this is SO on

Got this in the e-mail today and it has great advice for those who just don't *get* the hormone thing--although a friend has long said that orange flashing lights of warning would help, too. :)

Every "Hormone Hostage" knows that there are days in the month when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his life in his hands. This is a handy guide that should be as common as a driver's licence in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend or significant other.

DANGEROUS: What's for dinner?
SAFER: Can I help you with dinner?
SAFEST: Where would you like to go for dinner?

DANGEROUS: Are you wearing THAT?
SAFER: Gee, you look good in brown.
SAFEST: Wow! Look at you!

DANGEROUS: What are you so worked up about?
SAFER: Could we be overreacting?
SAFEST: Here's fifty dollars.

DANGEROUS: Should you be eating that?
SAFER: You know, there are a lot of apples left.
SAFEST: Can I get you a glass of wine with that?

DANGEROUS: What did you DO all day?
SAFER: I hope you didn't overdo it today.
SAFEST: I've always loved you in that robe.

TOP 11 THINGS PMS STANDS FOR
1. Pass My Shotgun
2. Psychotic Mood Shift
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. Puffy Mid Section
5. People Make Me Sick
6. Provide Me with Sweets
7. Pardon My Sobbing
8. Pimples May Surface
9. Pass My Sweatpants
10. Pack My Stuff
11. Permanent Menstrual Syndrome

Q: How many women with PMS does it take to change a light bulb?

A: One. Only ONE!! And do you know WHY? Because no one else in this house knows HOW to change a light bulb! They don't even know that the bulb is BURNED OUT! They would sit in the dark for THREE DAYS before they figured it out. And, once they figured it out, they wouldn't be able to find the light bulbs despite the fact that they've been in the SAME CUPBOARD for the past 17 YEARS! But if they did, by some miracle actually find them, 2 DAYS LATER the chair they dragged in to stand on to change the STUPID light bulb would STILL BE IN THE SAME SPOT!! AND UNDERNEATH IT WOULD BE THE WRAPPER THE STUPID LIGHT BULBS CAME IN! WHY? BECAUSE NO-ONE EVER CARRIES OUT THE GARBAGE!! IT'S A WONDER WE HAVEN'T ALL SUFFOCATED FROM THE PILES OF GARBAGE THAT ARE 12' DEEP THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE HOUSE! THE HOUSE?!! IT WOULD TAKE AN ARMY TO CLEAN THIS HOUSE!

:)

Geekdom rocks!

Okay, I had to try it out. It beckoned from the Blogger main page like one of those toys that say 'push here'. What can I say? Well, you can find out...

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And the nice thing is that I don't sound like a little girl like I do on answering machines. :)

Whew

I was going to make up some cute rhyme about being sleepy, but my brain isn't up to it.

I put in about nine hours at two different jobs today. I may have back into the second job tomorrow; the person who actually publishes the pages is leaving for holiday soon and I want to get them up and going. One plus--because I'm a state employee, I get paid for a half-day's shift tomorrow (even if I don't work) holiday pay because a new governor is being inaugurated. I'm not a big fan of Ernie Fletcher, but he's got to be better than Paul Patton, who ended his term in a scandal involving adultery and possible misuse of postions.

I stopped by the library between jobs and picked up the next two Harry Kemelman books (Rabbi Small mysteries), The Devil in the White City (about serial murders during the Chicago World's Fair), a book on the Mary Phagan/Leo Frank Case (a young girl murdered in Atlanta where a Jewish man was lynched but latter pardoned posthumously; I've read bits and pieces about the case but I wanted to know more and happened to see it), and a book on job-hunting and resume-writing.

After work I stopped by and got some fish and chips, which I'm hoping will be okay on my stomach. Sometimes fried foods really don't agree with my system. I also went over to Wal-Mart and looked around, although I'm happy to report I didn't buy a thing. I've got a Secret Santa present to get for one of the girls at work and it was the only thing I knew would be open for awhile.

So, now I'm home, sleepy but I need to pick a friend up in about a little while, so no nap for me. I guess, I'll just have to blog. :)

Sorry I sort of dropped off the face of the earth after my little weekend breakdown. I'm feeling much better, really. And I checked my e-mail and eHarmony spit back eight matches from around the country. It's an interesting mix; the closest is in Ashland and the most distant is in California. I have to admit, I'm intrigued. I haven't decided whether I'm ready to actually pay to get a conversation going yet or not. Does that make me a tease? I really don't mean it that way. I'm just on a budget. :)

PS Short rant of the day: Why is Kerry's use of an expletive that big of a deal? The language is pretty normal for Rolling Stone. And in the context where he used it (describing the Bush administration's handling of Iraq)...well, I'm not sure any other non-profane English word captures the meaning as well as that. Come on, everyone who votes is an adult; we're not on the playground, boys. For that matter, I don't suppose Kerry's choice of words had anything to do with lagging public opinion and the fact that he instantly sky-rocketed to the top of the headlines (although that was short-lived). Right? ;) Meanwhile you've got opposing camps proclaiming Kerry a hero for telling it like it is and others saying he just shot himself in the foot. You know what? Come election day, I don't think anyone's going to give a f*** what he said back in December. :)

Ah, the ever-changing world of the Internet

ABCNEWS.com : Web Posters Launch Anti-Bush 'Google Bomb'

Convergences

: 'My Immortal' by Evanescence
: Oddly Stronger

It occurs to me that twelve years ago today I took a very big step and left an abusive, twisted, six-year relationship to live on my own. Back then I was still struggling with a sense of failure for not making it work, when the reality was that he was hiding behind my skirts in an effort to not really be gay...as long as I was with him, he could live some sort of fantasy of a perfect family with me in the Donna Reed role. I was never cut out to be Donna Reed.

Towards the end, I was really no longer part of any real relationship. I could have been a piece of furniture, really. My therapist once described it as two gay men with a uterus, and really, that was on the mark. He wanted to have children, to have some semblance of a scripted life. In the end, that was what got me out of the relationship. A friend had gotten me to start questioning the double standards, the up-and-down emotional rollercoaster of living with a manipulative, abusive, sexually-addicted person who dominated the relationship with a constant stream of emotional blackmail. But it was a moment of epiphany, watching the movie Ghost that truly got me to leave.

I was watching the scene where Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze are sculpting clay as 'Unchained Melody' plays in the background. I am intensely, if covertly, romantic. It was exactly the kind of moment I wanted to share with someone in my life. In that instant, I realised that not only did we not have that, but that we never would, that I was an object to him, and that I could never bring children into such a dysfunctional household. That was the night I made the decision to leave. Maybe, just maybe, it was the similarity in music tonight that triggered the tears. It reminded me of what I want, and have never had, but sometimes feel I might have lost any chance for.

Later he admitted that he had never loved me, that it was all a matter of using my naïvete to his own ends. We started dating when I was 18; he was the first person I ever dated. In my mind, as a 'good girl', I was supposed to marry him to make everything okay. I was so wrong.

One of the worst things we can teach our daughters is to be a 'good girl'. You can never live up to such an idealised image. It's much better to just live up to your own potential and try to do good with your life. You don't get points for martyrdom. Really. As the line goes in Carousel, 'The meek inherit the dirt.'

I am not that person I was on that day twelve years ago. I'm a stronger person. I'm myself. No more, but also no less. I've grown a good deal. I decided then that it was better to risk being alone for the rest of my life than living such an empty lie, albeit inside a relationship.

I still feel that way. But sometimes, like tonight, I guess I fear being alone for the rest of my life. Now that all the people in my life with whom I'm closest have significant others, it makes it harder. At 36, I'm starting to feel a little like an old maid, sometimes. But more than anything else there's the frustration of knowing that I should be able to let go of fear and enjoy life, but I'm always a little too tense, a little too restrained, because I'm afraid of losing control of my life again.

So, I guess that puts tonight's difficulties into perspective. The odd thing is that I really do think I'm at a turning point in my life. For the first time I can picture myself in love. I can see myself in a good relationship. I can even almost look forward to trusting someone with the raw intimacy of a relationship. But it's just a little difficult to put my feet totally into the water. But with each day, I think I'm closer to the plunge.

I forgot how much tears burned

: Appropriately enough, 'Stuck in the Moment' by U2
: Frustrated

Tonight was our workplace Christmas party. It tends to be a fairly formal affair, so I took a long, relaxing bath, did a very nice job with my makeup (evening dramatic without looking cheap), put my hair up in a band with many clips to soften the lines around my face, and wore a long velvet skirt and matching tunic. All in all, it was very successful. I looked very nice.

I enjoyed everything both before and during dinner. I knew everyone at the table except for one of the spouses and an older woman who introduced herself and had asked if she could sit with us. She didn't know many people and didn't have an escort. Everyone else I had spoken with on previous occasions and so I felt fine. We all had good conversation and I felt at ease.

After dinner, though, the band started playing and the mingling began. I don't really mingle well. I'm fine in small groups, especially if I know the others, but when most of my co-workers have their spouses or other guests with them, that's a lot of people I don't know and my social phobia starts to kick in. I try to introduce myself, shake hands, etc., but part of me just wants to run and hide. The band was great and I love the style of music ('Under the Boardwalk'--that sort of thing), but it was loud and it made it difficult to keep any sort of conversation going. It's the type of music I would love to dance to, but I'm too self-conscious to do so. Most people were coupled, but I was finding it hard to try to keep up any sort of conversation with the other wallflowers. The thought of someone perhaps asking me to dance was terrifying, and yet I so wanted to. Nor did I feel comfortable drinking any alcohol--which frankly might have put me a little more at ease--since I was driving. Last year I had a terrible headache from the loud music and cigarette smoke but at least I was able to sing along to the music and enjoy myself. Tonight, though, even though we were in a better spot and the smokers were on the other side of the room, I felt paralysed. I could feel myself shutting down.

Part of it, too, I know, is that my big secret is that I'm a hopeless romantic. It's the type of music I'd love to be with someone to. I wanted to be able to show off someone I loved, too, and well, that's just not an option. As I started to turn inward, this overwhelming fountain of sadness just welled up from somewhere way down deep. I guess I usually keep it in check and tell myself that I'm mostly happy with my life. But I guess I've been ignoring a very strong loneliness. I so wanted someone as a part of my life in that moment, and I couldn't stop crying. I went to the ladies' room and even outside for a bit, but it didn't really help. So I went back in and told Dwana that I was going on home. I tried to explain a little, but it's not really a rational sort of thing. But she hugged me and that helped. There was no sense staying if I wasn't going to enjoy it. I had wanted to stay and celebrate someone's birthday, but I couldn't stop crying, and it was obvious. Even the bartender asked me if I was alright when I went to get a soda.

And, I guess, part of it is that this is supposed to be a real 'thank you' to everyone for doing their jobs and they recognise certain anniversaries and the fact of the matter is that it's unlikely I'll be able to stay because even though I love my job, having been partly laid off I have to find another means of supporting myself. So I guess it felt sort of empty.

So I went on home. I was really careful driving because I knew I had all these emotions coming up and I did really well until the turnoff to my house, where I just didn't register that the light was red and braked to late so I did a sort of uncontrolled skid through the red light and the turn. Thankfully no one was coming--it was about to turn green anyway so it was red for everyone else. I guess someone was looking out for me...but that could have been a costly mistake.

There's a small part of it that's me feeling like a failure. I weighed myself for the first time in awhile earlier today and probably shouldn't have...I weigh more than I ever have--282 lbs, so even though I've felt really good about myself lately, including my appearance, that was a little shocking and the air under my wings died down a bit. So, even though I look nice, and I know it, I feel like a bloated, clumsy oaf who's nearly 300 lbs and would look silly out on the dance floor by herself, nevermind with someone else. I know that's not exactly true, but that's how I was feeling.

The lability of emotions really surprised me. I've been on a pretty even, optimistic keel and was looking forward to the party. I think, too, with so many co-workers either pregnant or trying to become pregnant that I'm really starting to feel my age--and the retrospective look at the years people joined work probably didn't help. I just feel like this paralysis I have when it comes to meeting someone new is keeping me from so much. I can't even get so far as to the panic over trust or intimacy--I'm panicking just in meeting total strangers.

I have to admit, though, writing this has helped. And I know that I'm not a failure. Hell, I'm even pretty...and witty, and a whole lot of other good qualities. And, for each of these roadblocks I face, I get a little more confident. And it was actually logical to just come on home. A lot of people leave right after dinner. Since I don't drink or dance and it was too loud to really visit with the people I was comfortable with, really at that point I was just doodling on a napkin wishing I'd brought a book or even my PDA. You'd never know I was an introvert, would you? So there was no point in being there. Maybe I needed to have a little bit of an emotional jolt. It wasn't a breakdown. I didn't feel like I did back when I was having so many issues. It was a natural sort of wave of emotions triggered by being alone at a social event, and once I could accept them and sort of think my way through them, the pain has eased. And I never got up to the sobbing hysterically stage, at least. :)

I did forget how much tears burned and itched, though. But I've cleaned my face, gotten the makeup off (my face feels baby soft, which is at least a plus), and I have a stupid but loving white cat sitting on me as I type, purring.

I guess parties just aren't really my thing. But I'll chalk it up to a learning experience and go on.

After all, 'tomorrow is another day'. Right?

Happy Friday

: 'Road to Acco' by Sheldon Sands
: Introspective

I was looking forward to the Friday Five, but it's on hiatus. But, feeling deprived of end-of-the-week Q&A, and just a little disappointed--but not to the point of castigation--that I didn't really write much at all last month for NaNoWriMo, I've decided to come up with my own:

1. What is your first memory? The feel and smell of sand. I think I was in Vandenberg, California, so I would have been something like 1 1/2 or 2 years old.

2. What one smell can bring back memories like no other? There is this one earthy scent I can't place but it always takes me back to the pine woods and sea air of South Carolina, even though I occasionally smell it inland.

3.What is your strongest memory? Being told by my husband that he had never loved me, and the aftermath.

4. How good of a memory do you have? I have the memory of a goldfish. I used to be able to memorise facts well in school, but as life has become more complex, my memory has gone down the tubes; I often telescope different memories together. Also, for years I was in a state of dissociation, so I remember bits and pieces from my life only. Most of my childhood memories revolve around school or playing with friends; I have few memories of my home life, really, which is mostly a blur. The same goes for the most stressful times of my life. This is a source for frustration when I try to figure out why it became so important to forget; what memories I have I don't trust easily. It's also frustrating because my best friend's memory is eidetic, so I win very few points based on recollection.

5. How do you want to/think you will be remembered? I hope people remember me as a loyal, resilient person who tried to follow a path of truth. I'm afraid some of the people who knew me in my 20s will rather remember me as pathetic. I think I've largely grown beyond the passive, clingy person I once was. Dwana always says she can't imagine me being like that, but I really, really was. I'm proof that some people can make fundamental changes to the psyche, although it was very difficult and required a lot of support (and therapy). I'm glad she can't see the dysfunctional person I was, since she never knew me then. It means that I'm successful in a way people seldom realise matters. I hope that I'm remembered as someone who fought to bring herself up from a shadowed half-life to truly living.

Woman gets 10 years for drive-through rage

And this is why I am SO glad I'm out of food service. It's kind of disturbing that you could almost be killed just because someone didn't get mayonnaise on a cheeseburger, you know?

More on the Dru Sjodin case...

If you are in the North Dakota/Minnesota area and would like to print posters or need other resources to help find the missing co-ed who was kidnapped from a local mall, check out Find Dru.com - Help us find Dru Sjodin!.

Although an arrest has been made in the case linking a convicted sexual predator to the abduction, Dru Sjodin has not yet been found. Many individuals and businesses are volunteering their resources to help find the college student who has now been missing for twelve days.

I hope they find her soon, and that she will be found safe and sound, and that her family and friends can share the holiday season with her. She seems so 'girl-next-door' in the pictures...it reminds me that although we should not live in fear, this could happen to any one of us. I just wish she knew how many people were looking for her. She's certainly in my thoughts and prayers, and I'm sure others around the world who have seen her story also share in that concern.

Hmmm...twisted.

I just watched part of an interesting play, called '8 Women'. It's a murder mystery (French with English subtitles) set in the late 1950s in a large house during preparations for Christmas. Eight women are trapped there during a snowstorm when the father is murdered and and everyone has to try to figure out who the culprit is. The widow, her daughter, her sister and mother, his sister, and the domestics all have secrets ranging from lesbian relationships, infidelity, incest, unwed pregnancy, virginity, poisoning--you name it, it unfolds. Each woman has her own song scene as well. I want to see it again from the beginning; fortunately it comes on again next week. I highly recommend it. It's almost...almost as twisted as Amélie.