Friday, October 13, 2017

And BINGO was his Name-O

I've been brooding about this for days. Listening and reading people's reactions to Weinstein. What gets to me is that some people act like these actions are new. You hear the "why didn't she say anything" or "why did she go to the hotel room" bullshit. If you ask that you are part of the problem and you won't admit it. Men act this way regardless of their stature or prominence, doesn't matter the size of the paycheck. They THINK they have the power simply by being male and how historically and socially they have acquired it. The fear of losing a job, fear of being labeled a slut, fear of not being believed and only looking for money, these are drops in the bucket of why sexual harassment doesn't get reported.

I worked as a greeter at R.C Willey's for years, surrounded by married salesmen. Everyday it was something about wanting to punch my clock, taking me into the break room, asking to try out a new bed set. Even the gay returned missionary would ask me out on dates in front of the other salesmen to quell suspicions and stop his own harassment.

My experience isn't that out of the norm. A roommate's boss loved to "rub her shoulders" and on and on I could go because that is our society.

Until it isn't.

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Inside Grateful

I started a Grateful Journal this month. There is a swirl of life hastening around me, around my family, and I thought a simple and true way to keep me from getting out of focus was to focus. I focus everyday on the simple wonders that we forget about.

Sewage Treatment Plants
More Bunnys

Everyday I'm writing a list of things for which I'm grateful. The theme changes and some days it's more internal, growth based. What I've found the most interesting is as I live my day I keep finding more things to add to my list for the next day.  My focus continues from the page to the world and every minute I'm living more and more inside the grateful.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Keeping it Classy

For the entire month of August TCM celebrates "Summer Under the Stars." That's where for 24 hours they play movies featuring one celebrated movie star. Over the past month I've binged on Marilyn Monroe and Sidney Poitier (A Patch of Blue is one of my all-time favourites and very cathartic this time round.) Yesterday's star was Glenn Ford. Now, I've got a thing for Glenn Ford. I have for decades. After a couple of movies in to my Glenn Ford Fest The Moms calls.

The Moms - What you doing?
Me - I love Glenn Ford. Gilda's such a great flick.
TM - Oh yeah. He's a classic leading man. So "swahvey and de-boner."
Me - Mmmhmm. Major de-boner.
Both giggle.
Me - But nothing beats Gene Kelly's butt.
TM - You and Gene Kelly's butt.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Can I Get a Manager

I'm checking out at PetCo. The card reader didn't make the GUNH GUNH noise. Lady behind me says "Oh I miss the days of only swiping." I scoff and say "Remember the old days when they brought out the Manager and the machine that went CHA-CHUNK and then gave you the messy carbon receipt?" She giggles, then startled says "You must be A LOT older than you look." I lean in and say "Oh, I am."

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Advantage Patience

I have only posted to this blog three times since July of last year. Maybe some people noticed, maybe not. I am blocked, for many reasons. But the main is this; pain.

Pain disrupts sleepy time, awake time, why am I not sleeping time and all the times in between time. It washes over every aspect of daily life and you can't seem to scrub it off. But, then, there are those breaks in the clouds. One day. A bright shiny day where that overwhelming monster of pain is so small it barely casts a shadow. You feel so close to normal that you would skip if you still could. So you grab that day and ride it till you can barely stand, hoping that tomorrow you'll get back in line for the same ride.

Showing how much pain you are truly in (and I mean truly) doesn't fly so well on social media, or out in the big bad for realsies world. Phrases get thrown around such as "pity post" or "attention seeker" and worse. So much worse. Instagram and Facebook have somehow turned into this realm of filtered filters through filters (guilty.) No one wants to spend time on anything too real. Anything that might bring them down from the projected reality. A social face of all is well. If I'm being honest, as a chronic pain sufferer, I don't like to readily admit the levels of my pain. I fight it. I seek every distraction. It doesn't always work though, and when it has been months and months on end, my optimism can become depleted. Never emptied, but that pool is hella shallow.

Now to that term Chronic Pain Sufferer. To suffer is defined as;
1. to undergo or feel pain or distress: 
2. to sustain injury, disadvantage, or loss:
3. to undergo a penalty, as of death: 
4. to endure pain, disability, death, etc.
I get it. It fits. The disadvantage. Yes. The Loss. Yes also. Then I think of the advantages I've had in my view on the world and my empathy through EDS and pain.  I have had losses in personal relationships and the distress it still causes is something I am working on daily. I wake up every day grateful that I have people in my life that want to go and do things with me. Friends that want to spend time with me. Not everyone has that. I do. I am totally bragging that I have friends. Great and wonderful beautiful friends. They know I'm in pain. But I don't show them all of it. They see the crust, the top of the iceberg. Only My Mom has seen me in full throws. Tears that you aren't quite sure when they will stop. She's the safest net to dare allow myself be cradled. 
I want to switch up the pain name game. I've been thinking of myself as more of a Chronic Pain Endurer rather than a sufferer. With endure being a verb, I imagine it as my actions and reactions during and owing to pain. Endure is defined as;
1. to hold out against; sustain without impairment or yielding;
2. to bear without resistance or with patience; tolerate:
3. to admit of; allow; bear: 
4. to continue to exist; last: 
5. to support adverse force or influence of any kind; suffer without yielding; suffer patiently.

To hold out, with patience and by doing so sustain without impairment. I think a fine trick would be to continue to exist, without yielding to pain. Ultimate EDS Merit Badge goal in sight. 
My definition of not yielding isn't the same as it might be for everyone else. For now, one piece of my not yielding is sharing how it is to live inside the body of a human with Ehlers-Danlos and Thalassemia without worry of how uncomfortable it might make the people in my life and social circle that don't know what to say or do. I've never expected anyone to have the right best things to say. I've never courted pity. I promise. What I have courted (possibly vainly) is a connection to people with life-long, persistent illness and pain. To maybe let that one person with a chronic illness read that one phrase and go "Oh my word, that's just like me" and then the world gets larger and smaller simultaneously.
Not everyone on this blog and my Facebook is interested in how much it hurts every time I eat or that I dislocated my knee AGAIN! So, the answer is to write on my EDS blog, and not publish it to Facebook anymore. I'm hoping by releasing myself of that apprehension, the part of my mind that needs to be writing for this blog will be free as well.

This blog will continue to exist, as will my pool of optimism.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Press 2 to get Alive

"Yesterday was plain awful" (That was for you JD.) So, to lessen the awfulness and distract me from the pain, The Moms came for a visit.  Because she's the sweetest best kindest most lovingest Mom to ever be. True story.

We talked, giggled, laughed at bunnies and binged TV. I'd been hording a bunch of episodes of the British Baking Show in the depths of my DVR just for her to see, because they had Tiramisu and Trifle on them. Her faves. Then she saw her first ever episodes of Psych. I started her with the pilot because Ion TV is doing reruns and I could record from the beginning.

There was no way I could stand to cook so I ordered delivery from Pizza Runner. They have the best Vegan Breadsticks (my Mom loves them) and they have other great vegan options. But the funniest thing was the guy taking my order. I'm asking him about the pesto, if he likes it as much as the marinara when he stops me...

Guy - Oh man, you have like, the prettiest voice. Ever.
Me - Well, thank you. That's nice to hear. Now, I have a question about the turnovers. They're vegan too right?
Guy - Yes. We just make them without the cream cheese.
Me - Fantastic. I'd like a cherry one. That'd be...
Guy - (Interrupting) Your voice is just. So. Pretty. I mean. Wow.
Me - I'm glad you like it.

Dead air.

Guy - I guess you'd like to know the total huh?
Me - That would be perfect.

I made sure to say goodbye extra pretty for him. Nice to know even if my body is wracked with pain, my voice doesn't have to convey it.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Not Enough Memory

Today is Stephie's Birthday. She would be 44 years old. She's been gone for 12 years. Those are substantial numbers and even a more substantially large hole in my heart.

I get shy when I begin talking about Stephie. I feel exposed. I remember so much about her everyday and yet I hardly have any pictures of her here at my apartment. Most of them are in an album at my parents'. She left before selfies were the norm and cell phones were attached to our bodies. I remember her bitching about dial up and AOL on her clunker PC so she could message me.

I see her in people's faces often. Mostly their mouths. She had this distinctive mouth. I call it a Stephie mouth. I'll be watching a movie, or catch a rare news report and I'll freeze. Someone will be talking and all I see is their mouth. I sink back into myself and sometimes I cry. Other times I smile that I'm so lucky to still be here getting to remember her in something so random as Tori Kelly's mouth.

I hope wonderful words of love come out your mouths today.

The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.