Ok, so as we all remember, a year ago I went to the theater to see the film "It's Complicated" with my sister. We all remember how I sat next to my nephew writhing in agony while Nan was sitting next to me laughing her head off.
A year later, "It's Complicated" is playing on HBO.
A couple of nights ago, I turned on the television to find the film playing. As it's been close to two years since the ex left and things are progressing well and I'm starting to feel more traction, grounding and presence in my experiences, I thought I'd take another shot at sitting through the film.
How did I do? Didn't even make it through half of it. Yeah, I'm just not there yet. I can't bring myself to accept how someone can look past the lies of a cheating spouse yet. I got through about 45 minutes of it and was so traumatized I had to change the channel.
I've reached the point where I'm perfectly fine by myself, I had no issues sitting in the chapel for my sister's wedding, and I'm just overall ok with where I am on the relationship mat.
Thinking about Nan's wedding, I realized when I wrote about it the other day that I hadn't fully processed it yet. I was still digesting the moment and being thrilled that she's happy.
From my point of view in the pews, all I could think about was how happy I was for her. She stood there glowing with this inner vibrancy that I think can only be found when you're truly happy and in love. The thought that passed through my mind as she walked down the aisle arm in arm with my father was that she had a unique confidence in her walk. To be honest, if I'd been wearing those four inch heels, I'd have landed on my face, but Nan floated on the air. Her graceful, confident step said one thing to me, that she was, deep in her heart, where she wanted to be. I watched her as she stood beautifully next to Carl and said her vows, how she looked so intent and serious about the words she was saying and there was no mistaking them, she meant them with all her heart.
Later the next day, I sat in the apartment and realized that having a lifelong companion would be a very good thing and nice to have. For me though, it's more of a matter of timing. Like sitting through the movie, I'm just not there yet because I'm trying to rationalize why lifelong relationships even happen in the first place. I sat pondering the "want" and "need" aspects of why people get into relationships.
I think there is a vast difference between "want" and "need". It's like being hungry. You either want the food because it looks good and you want to taste it or you have the dire need to eat that comes along when you're starving. I guess it's the difference between choice and desperation, or at least that's how I see it.
Do I need a man to survive? No. Not in the least. I always said, "There is nothing in the world a man can give me that I can't give myself," and I think it's very true. As a woman, I have every opportunity to take myself anywhere I want to go, buy myself whatever it is I want and find my happiness from within. No one single person should be charged with making me happy because I naively think that it's my life and if I'm not happy with myself, how am I going to be happy with someone else? It boils down to the fact that we're born into this world on our own and we die on our own and there's no one to hold our hand in those moments because those are things we have to do ourselves, so what's wrong with independence?
Carl Sagan once said (and you'll remember this from the film "Contact") that, "the only thing that makes the emptiness bearable is each other." So, I agree with the fact that company is good to have along the way because what is an experience if you can't share it with someone else? Of course you could have all kinds of experiences on your own, but come on, let's be honest, the best part is when you share your adventures with the important people in your life.
Family, for all of its joys, dysfunctions and so forth, are the folks who welcomed us into the world and who are eventually going to be the ones to send us on our way. They're almost a given when it comes to the big scheme of things, almost to the point that you forget about it and take it for granted. But, is it our animal drive to procreate and propagate the species or is it the unique moment of connect we have with another human being outside of our family that gives us the drive to want or need a companion?
To be honest, I have trouble with needy people. I don't understand why people (bordering on pathological desperation) need to have someone with them all the time. I don't understand why people feel that they need to be in a relationship, is it because they have a dire need to have the relationship become their identity? Do they not see their self-worth without their partners? Do they need the reassurance of commitment to make them feel better? Are they so lonely that they're to the point of desperation that they have to cling on to another human being so that they'll have some sort of satisfaction with their lives, like they've fulfilled a purpose? That's the kicker with the whole "need" part with me. I don't need anything that badly.
This brings us to the want part. Would I prefer to have someone around? Naturally. But for me, it's who I want to be around, not who I need to be around. See the difference? Need implies desperation. Want implies choice. It's choosing to spend time with someone because you want to be there, not because you're so desperate with need that you'll take anything with a pulse to get by.
My choice of who I'd want to be around is obvious. From the start, it's been KP this and KP that. Round and round we go, 2500 miles apart and you know what? He and I are on very similar journeys. We're at that point where we are finding out who we are, where we want to go and what we want in our lives. Remember how I once said "everything finds its' own level"? That's basically it. I'm spending time with someone who is right at the same point I am, although I'm not juggling the lives of three children in the mix either. I find it fascinating every day I get to spend a modicum of time around him and it's becoming more and more apparent that the distance is a unique facet of our little mutual admiration society. We talked about the distance last night. KP talked about how if we were in the same physical space, we'd get distracted from our goals, in which I think he's right because we'd, in all likelihood, get so wrapped up in each other that we'd forget everything else. Talk about two people who want to be together...but it's so funny, we're so focused on the little changes we need to make in our own lives to be together that we've forgotten about the distance and we spend time just communicating to each other how our little pieces of the puzzle are coming along.
Ah, the puzzle analogy is perfect...here, try this...ever put together a jigsaw puzzle? What do you start with? The edges. You put the edges together, but you usually start from a corner to get everything started right? That's exactly how it is here. He's got his corner he's working on, I've got mine and somewhere it's going to meet up in the middle. I know at least 100 people who would give body parts to see us meet already. Ok, well, if you're dying that bad to get the two of us together, he or I will gladly take your donations to buy a single round-trip airline ticket for one person to get to the other. Personally, sending me to Hawaii would be best because then I get to see the kids too. But, as no one is willing to fork over $500 for a plane ticket, like me, you'll just have to be patient. Yes, yes, I'm dying to write that blog entry too, if you think I'm not, you're kidding yourself.
Yeah...there's a vast difference between want and need. I didn't need to watch "It's Complicated" again, but I tried. Also there is a unique little piece that I have a sneaking suspicion my pal Tae wouldn't let me get away with...and that's the point that you don't always get what you want. As in, "you can wish in one hand, crap in the other and see which one gets filled faster." But I don't think it's unrealistic to work towards a goal to get to where you want to go. We all do things every day to get what we want. From wanting to go window shopping but having the restraint/common sense not to buy everything we put our hands on in impulsive need. So I guess I better differentiate. There is a difference between gluttonous want and making a choice.
I guess it's like me changing the channel to watch something else...it's a choice.
But back to reality. I need to get my education and yes, it's desperation...I'm desperate to really make a difference and live my life on my terms. I know I'm doing it already, but there's a finer degree I'd like to get to which of course will allow me to slap down that $500, get on a plane and finally put the edges of the puzzle together. I don't need him, but I sure would like to spend time with him face to face. Besides, to tell someone they're wanted is a higher compliment than to tell them that they're needed, at least to me.
That's not complicated, is it?
But talking about wanting and needing things...I'll stay realistic with the newest addition to the soundtrack, and with a wink to my dear guiding angel Soosi who always reminds me of the value of the '60's, The Rolling Stones..."You Can't Always Get What You Want."
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Stepping Into Spring
Today, I spent time with the campus map and my spring schedule. Oy veh. What a mess.
Here, want to see the beautiful UNLV campus? Take a look... http://go.unlv.edu/assets/maps/flash/main.html
Ok, now that you've got the map I do, you'll get to see the wonderful distances I'll be traversing.
As an overview, you have to remember UNLV takes up approximately 332 acres. It's a big campus. Not as large as say, Texas A&M, but at 332 acres, UNLV is still sizable.
On Tuesdays, it's History then Introduction to Integrated Marketing Communications. I'll be between the Classroom Building Complex (CBC) and then I have an hour and 45 minutes until I have to walk just a short distance to Wright Hall. Not bad, short and sweet, right?
Mondays and Wednesdays are a whole different enchilada as I have to leave the house at an ungodly early hour to be on campus at the beloved Greenspun Hall for my Global Media class with Doc Fish. After finishing with Doc Fish, I'll be hauling butt (because I only have 15 minutes to get there) all the way across campus to the White Life Sciences building for Personal Growth. Ok, if you're not looking at the map, let's put it this way, White is HELL AND GONE from Greenspun Hall. They're literally on opposite ends of the campus. Ok, let's put that into brighter relief...I'll be walking from corner to corner of the 332 acres in 15 minutes. Guess I'll be jogging...
Thursdays aren't bad though. It's History lecture at the CBC followed by its' discussion just 10 doors down in the same building. After discussion, it's off to Wright Hall for more Intro to IMC 40 minutes later.
Those Wednesdays are going to be killers this spring. Leaving the house at 7 a.m. to be on campus and in my seat in Doc Fish's lecture by 8:30 a.m. is going to be a feat of strength all of its own. I'm seriously considering parking in the lot behind White Life Sciences, doing the trek to Greenspun Hall, walk back to White for class then fall out of class and back into my car. It's a logical approach, but thinking about the distance, I'm cringing hard. That's a lot of walking.
Before you say, "use your bike," you have to remember, I don't know how to ride one. Yes, yes, you skinned your knees and have fond memories about learning how to ride a bike, but I don't. My mother even tried to bribe me with a $5 bill stuck to the fridge (which stayed there until she took it down) in an effort to get me to try to learn...but while I was trying to learn how to ride a bike, a girl that lived down the street from us decided to ride her bike down the hill we lived on. She crashed into a tree, resulting in a piece of cedar tree bark being shoved through her eye and into her brain. Yeah, that swore me off bikes but good. As a kid, while all of the other kids were riding bikes, I was running. I ran everywhere. When I got old enough, I learned to drive, which you'll agree with me, four wheels and a metal housing are infinitely safer than two thin wheels and my balance. We all know how clumsy I am. Do you think I was any less clumsy as a child? Oy veh. Let's just say that clumsy and I have been friends for a l-o-n-g time. Oh yes, me, who if I can step in it, step on it, bump into it, fall over it and usually does, do you honestly think for a second that I belong on a bicycle? Um, no. Just thinking about it has the sounds of car tires screeching and loud crashing noises echoing in my head.
I'll walk, thanks.
But, distances aside, I'm grateful for all the quality time on campus this semester. Yes, we remember me and my two online classes last semester...ewwww! Yeah, for all that time I spent sitting on my butt, I'm now going to be hauling it across campus three days a week. If I have my 'druthers (read: I'd rather), I'll walk it.
Let's turn a negative into a positive though. What do I get out of walking all that way? A healthy body. There it is...the ol' nutritional value I love so much. This time, it's almost literal. With all that distance being covered by my legs, I'm bound to lose more weight with increased activity. Am I going to like it? Probably not. (Oh yes and all of you are just running out the door to get to the gym, aren't ya? Mmmhmmm... *poof* ooh! There goes another weight loss New Year's resolution! LOL!)
I consider it a forced workout regimen. That's right, if I want to get to my goal then I'm just going to have to pound the pavement. Like I've said countless times, you can't become great without being in the trenches and pounding the pavement first. It builds character (and removes cellulite).
I'm trying to have a good sense of humor about it, which I'm sure at 6 a.m. on a Monday or Wednesday morning the humor will be non-existant, but hey, it is what it is. On opposite ends of the UNLV campus are classes that will be enriching my GPA and getting me closer to my degree.
And let me tell you, the theme to The Eternal Sophomore can't be more appropriate at this moment because I'm going to be walking across campus, one foot in front of the other, doing my best to keep marching on.
Here, want to see the beautiful UNLV campus? Take a look... http://go.unlv.edu/assets/maps/flash/main.html
Ok, now that you've got the map I do, you'll get to see the wonderful distances I'll be traversing.
As an overview, you have to remember UNLV takes up approximately 332 acres. It's a big campus. Not as large as say, Texas A&M, but at 332 acres, UNLV is still sizable.
On Tuesdays, it's History then Introduction to Integrated Marketing Communications. I'll be between the Classroom Building Complex (CBC) and then I have an hour and 45 minutes until I have to walk just a short distance to Wright Hall. Not bad, short and sweet, right?
Mondays and Wednesdays are a whole different enchilada as I have to leave the house at an ungodly early hour to be on campus at the beloved Greenspun Hall for my Global Media class with Doc Fish. After finishing with Doc Fish, I'll be hauling butt (because I only have 15 minutes to get there) all the way across campus to the White Life Sciences building for Personal Growth. Ok, if you're not looking at the map, let's put it this way, White is HELL AND GONE from Greenspun Hall. They're literally on opposite ends of the campus. Ok, let's put that into brighter relief...I'll be walking from corner to corner of the 332 acres in 15 minutes. Guess I'll be jogging...
Thursdays aren't bad though. It's History lecture at the CBC followed by its' discussion just 10 doors down in the same building. After discussion, it's off to Wright Hall for more Intro to IMC 40 minutes later.
Those Wednesdays are going to be killers this spring. Leaving the house at 7 a.m. to be on campus and in my seat in Doc Fish's lecture by 8:30 a.m. is going to be a feat of strength all of its own. I'm seriously considering parking in the lot behind White Life Sciences, doing the trek to Greenspun Hall, walk back to White for class then fall out of class and back into my car. It's a logical approach, but thinking about the distance, I'm cringing hard. That's a lot of walking.
Before you say, "use your bike," you have to remember, I don't know how to ride one. Yes, yes, you skinned your knees and have fond memories about learning how to ride a bike, but I don't. My mother even tried to bribe me with a $5 bill stuck to the fridge (which stayed there until she took it down) in an effort to get me to try to learn...but while I was trying to learn how to ride a bike, a girl that lived down the street from us decided to ride her bike down the hill we lived on. She crashed into a tree, resulting in a piece of cedar tree bark being shoved through her eye and into her brain. Yeah, that swore me off bikes but good. As a kid, while all of the other kids were riding bikes, I was running. I ran everywhere. When I got old enough, I learned to drive, which you'll agree with me, four wheels and a metal housing are infinitely safer than two thin wheels and my balance. We all know how clumsy I am. Do you think I was any less clumsy as a child? Oy veh. Let's just say that clumsy and I have been friends for a l-o-n-g time. Oh yes, me, who if I can step in it, step on it, bump into it, fall over it and usually does, do you honestly think for a second that I belong on a bicycle? Um, no. Just thinking about it has the sounds of car tires screeching and loud crashing noises echoing in my head.
I'll walk, thanks.
But, distances aside, I'm grateful for all the quality time on campus this semester. Yes, we remember me and my two online classes last semester...ewwww! Yeah, for all that time I spent sitting on my butt, I'm now going to be hauling it across campus three days a week. If I have my 'druthers (read: I'd rather), I'll walk it.
Let's turn a negative into a positive though. What do I get out of walking all that way? A healthy body. There it is...the ol' nutritional value I love so much. This time, it's almost literal. With all that distance being covered by my legs, I'm bound to lose more weight with increased activity. Am I going to like it? Probably not. (Oh yes and all of you are just running out the door to get to the gym, aren't ya? Mmmhmmm... *poof* ooh! There goes another weight loss New Year's resolution! LOL!)
I consider it a forced workout regimen. That's right, if I want to get to my goal then I'm just going to have to pound the pavement. Like I've said countless times, you can't become great without being in the trenches and pounding the pavement first. It builds character (and removes cellulite).
I'm trying to have a good sense of humor about it, which I'm sure at 6 a.m. on a Monday or Wednesday morning the humor will be non-existant, but hey, it is what it is. On opposite ends of the UNLV campus are classes that will be enriching my GPA and getting me closer to my degree.
And let me tell you, the theme to The Eternal Sophomore can't be more appropriate at this moment because I'm going to be walking across campus, one foot in front of the other, doing my best to keep marching on.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Nan's Wedding
What a day.
I won't lie. It was a LONG day. Now, not long in a bad sense, it just was that we had a lot to do in not a lot of time.
We left off yesterday with me talking about MAC Cosmetics, hairdressers and so forth. I lost track of time in the middle of the post and almost made myself late. Lucky me, I got myself there on time. Funny thing was, Nan called the salon not five minutes after I got there to make sure I got there on time...gee, thanks for the faith there Nan... *pbbbt*.
One hour, three rubber bands and exactly 45 bobby pins later, I had an up-do. It was nice, filled with lots of hairspray and was incredibly painful to take out when I got home. My stylist for the day, Melissa, really did a great job on my hair, but unfortunately my bangs got unintentionally sacrificed to the habitual-hand-through-the-hair gods. So here's the back so you can see it first-hand.
I won't lie. It was a LONG day. Now, not long in a bad sense, it just was that we had a lot to do in not a lot of time.
We left off yesterday with me talking about MAC Cosmetics, hairdressers and so forth. I lost track of time in the middle of the post and almost made myself late. Lucky me, I got myself there on time. Funny thing was, Nan called the salon not five minutes after I got there to make sure I got there on time...gee, thanks for the faith there Nan... *pbbbt*.
One hour, three rubber bands and exactly 45 bobby pins later, I had an up-do. It was nice, filled with lots of hairspray and was incredibly painful to take out when I got home. My stylist for the day, Melissa, really did a great job on my hair, but unfortunately my bangs got unintentionally sacrificed to the habitual-hand-through-the-hair gods. So here's the back so you can see it first-hand.
After the hairdresser's it was off to MAC for a session with a make-up artist. I lucked out completely with a wonderful artist by the name of Amparo. She took my bare skin and turned it into something to look at.
Nan sat across from me with a wonderful artist by the name of Caesar. Now this is ironic because we went to the MAC at The Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace... (which guarantees you get some of the best artists in the city...ah-ha! Sheri was thinking ahead!)
Well, as Cait went with us, so did Ryan. Poor fella, he waited for us for two hours in the mall while we were being primped and preened. Thanks to Cait, she got photos of while we were getting fixed up!
While Amparo was working hard on me, I glanced over at Nan, and what do you think I saw? Caesar grabbing a set of false eyelashes for Nan! I grabbed onto Amparo and said, "Oh my gosh! She's going for the falsies! Woot!" I never thought in a million years Nan would go for something like that, but sure enough, there was Caesar giving her the total treatment! She went for it and I couldn't have been more tickled to see her really getting into it! She seemed like she had so much fun getting made up and let's face it, for all of those hours she made me up, I figured she deserved it!
So after it all went on, Cait got a picture of us...
While the artists took a break, we sat and visited and waited for Cait's turn. My nephew's wife is such a cutie. I'm so glad I got a sweet girl like her as my niece...
Amparo came back for an encore and she went to work fixing Cait up, which was a real treat because that was her first time in an artist's chair...
And so, three fresh faces walked out of MAC at 3:30 p.m. and ready for the big hoorah.
I got home at 4 p.m. Enough time for me to unwind a bit, catch my breath, organize what I needed, my clothes and so forth and get dressed. But you know me, it's never that simple.
The day had gone off like a choreographed stage show up until the moment I got home. I sat down to relax and picked up the phone to call Nan to verify what time I needed to be at the wedding chapel. Carl answered. We visited for a few minutes and I asked him about the times and so forth and he said, "Well, we've got to be there at 5:45, you can be there by 6. If you don't want to miss anything, be there by 6." When I asked him if he was excited, he replied, "You know me, I'm excited, but I'm internalizing it." Yes, this is my big brother...appropriate, isn't it?
In the midst of my downloading the photos to the computer, getting my clothes out and so forth, time (which we all know I have no sense of whatsoever, hence the phrase "temporally challenged") slipped by and before I knew it, guess what, I was running late. How does this happen to me? Ugh.
I dashed on my clothes, fixed my bangs which had unfortunately been sacrificed to the habitual-hand-through-the-hair gods, put on my jewelry and zoomed out the door, looking like this...
(Disclaimer: I don't photograph well.)
When I got into the car, the clock read 5:45. I stared at it for a moment, looked at the car ceiling and screamed, "How does this happen to me?!?!" I put my foot into my gas tank and headed off.
Now wouldn't you know it? Come on, you know where I'm going with this...yes, yes, if there was a red light, I caught it. If there was some poky jackass in the middle of the road, I inevitably found them. I was ready to commence hari-kari at a few points. But lucky me, in my preparations, I had also made a visit to Mapquest...yes, I wasn't going to get lost getting there...
So, I'm on the 95 zooming into town going Mach 5 in a car that was built for fuel economy, not speed. Did you know that a Prius will run on electric power at 80 miles per hour? Yeah, found that out. *facepalm* I get to the Spaghetti Bowl Interchange (yes, Las Vegans really do call the interchange between the 95 and the 15 "the spaghetti bowl" because it looks like it), I get onto the 15 only long enough to get to the Charleston exit, I get off only to be met with what? A red light. The clock glowed at me saying, "5:50." My heart at that point had sunk into my gut. I was going to miss the wedding and Nan was going to kill me. With visions of Nan laying me low for being late...I cringed. Sitting there, nervously twitching in my seat, I waited for the light. And I waited, and waited, and waited. It felt like the longest stoplight in human history. Finally it turned green, I hit the gas, made the left turn onto Charleston Boulevard and what do I get again? A red light. The clock glowed 5:55. At that point, my adrenaline had gone into overdrive. I sat with my head in my hands, thinking, "They're going to start without me and as well they should." I got mad at myself for my temporal handicap.
When the light turned green, everyone seemed to know I was on my way to a wedding because by some miracle, people either turned, changed lanes or something to give me a clear shot to Las Vegas Boulevard. I made a left onto the strip and I look down at the speedometer, knowing that I'm near the courthouse, police station and every other type of government building with a cop in front of it, I reminded myself to keep the speed down even though I wanted to floor it. As I passed in front of the wedding chapel, the clock glowed "6:00" at me. I knew I had missed it...I make a quick turn into the chapel parking lot, hop out of the car, break out into a dead run (in heels mind you...kudos for my athleticism in formal wear) and get into the door of the chapel. Dad and Carl were waiting outside the chapel that they had rented for the ceremony. I hugged Carl and asked him, "Did I miss it?" He looked at me and said, "How could you, it's just now 6 o'clock?" He could tell I was relieved beyond belief that I had made it on time when he said, "You're on time, don't worry." Come to find out, the clock in my car...
It's 5 minutes fast.
As I walked in the door, I find my cousin Nicole and her daughters came to see the event, Mom, Ryan and Cait were all tucked into a pew and there I was hoping I hadn't missed anything when Mom and Dad had shown up at 5:00. They'd already been waiting an hour. After I showed up, it was still 20 minutes before the ceremony started. So I sat visiting with my cousin and her daughters and caught my breath from the sprint to get there.
Nan and Carl got married at a sweet little chapel called "Mon Bel Ami." When I walked in, I noticed it was lovely. It was decked out in a warm yellowish hue, there was striped silk buttery-colored bunting and lovely flowers everywhere. Carl looked dashing in his suit and tie, Mom had been primped and preened as well, so she looked fabulous, Dad was looking good in his blue suit and a lovely tie. Ryan was sporting a tie and Cait looked lovely in her purple shirt and pencil skirt combo. The whole family looked wonderful.
The gentleman who did the service came to the front and gave us a few hints and tips about the whole thing. Nan and Carl had contracted a photographer, so we couldn't take pictures inside during the ceremony, you know, the whole, "Keep your arms and hands inside the vehicle at all times" speech that goes with any type of ride...ok, I'm kidding, but he did tell us what was going to happen and what we would be seeing, when to stand, when to sit, etc., etc.
Then it was finally time. The music started and Dad walked Nan down the aisle. Nan chose a very sedate suit to be married in, it was a beautiful ivory white and she carried three white roses.
During the vows, Nan started to tear up. Which of course, if you've ever seen the film "Steel Magnolias" you'll remember the Dolly Parton line, "If you cry, you'll make me cry. I have a strict rule that no one cries alone in my presence." I started to tear up with Nan. I sat there thinking to myself, "No, don't cry, we just spent a ton of time at the make-up artist...don't you dare shed a tear..." and I held it together.
In all it was just beautiful. I cheered when the official turned Nan and Carl around and presented them as husband and wife. I finally, FINALLY have a big brother. Thank goodness...I waited long enough.
After the hoorah, we headed out to Carrabba's for dinner. Italian. Nice. I made the mistake of ordering their Lobster Linguine...oy veh. It was like eating antiseptic. I sent it back and just went with a safe choice, Fettuccine Alfredo. But all in all, it was so sweet sitting down at the other end of the table from Nan and Carl as I watched how happy they were.
We got done with dinner by 9 p.m. As I headed home a song Nan says is so true, Nickelback's "Gotta Be Somebody", started playing on the radio. Behind the wheel of the car again, I ironically turned west onto Charleston Boulevard on the way home. But it wasn't just the car that was facing west, it was my mind that was wandering 2500 miles west of where I was, thinking about KP all the way over in Hawaii. The song kind of made me tear up at that moment because if Nan (who went through divorce, cancer, mastectomy, chemotherapy and all sorts of aches and pains) got a happy ending, there's no reason we all can't have a happy ending of our own.
There's gotta be somebody for me out there...
But enough about me and my dire need for KP...
Grats to Nan and Carl, the best big sister/big brother combo ever! I'm so thrilled for them both.
But enough about me and my dire need for KP...
Grats to Nan and Carl, the best big sister/big brother combo ever! I'm so thrilled for them both.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
All dressed up in love...
And it's going to be one fun-filled exciting day!
Yesterday, since my nephew and niece are here, I got a call to meet them for lunch, a trip to the Bellagio Buffet, in which, I never eat at buffets (because they're so cliché here), but I have to say the one at Bellagio is first rate. We sat and grazed. LOL, yes, but it's ok that I graze...my metabolism loves it. From fresh California Rolls, salad with balsamic vinagrette, and an oodle of fruit to flank steak, button mushrooms, truffle infused ravioli and a itty bitty spoonful of Key Lime Pie, I was stuffed to the gills.
Then it was off to the mall. Nan needed to pick up a little something for the man who actually grants Christmas wishes...her groom, the wonderful Carl. So, with Ryan, Caitlynd and I in tow, we buzzed around the Meadows Mall for a good two hours, followed by another grazing session at my sisters after Nan and Carl picked up their marriage license.
While Nan and Carl were out doing the marriage license thing, I got to hang out with my sweet boy and sweet girl. Sitting listening to them laugh together and talk, I realized that I am so lucky. I'm so very fortunate to have young people around me like the two of them, and KP's three darlings, Drewbie, T.J. and Kai. My heart felt like it was going to pop with how much love I felt for them.
Well, while we waited for them to come back, Cait, Ryan and I attacked Pac-Man on PS3. (Yes, my very cool big brother has a PS3, with the Playstation Move, be jealous...) I found that Pac-Man has evolved. Yes, yes, it's been 30 years since that little yellow guy started eating pellets, but let me tell you, they 'roided that little sucker up! They gave him bombs and ghosts that sleep around every corner. Pass the ghost, it wakes up and starts the chase. Instead of randomly zooming around the board, they all just try to chase you down. Cries of "Whoa!," "Yikes," "Criminy!" and so forth were being hollered out as we ducked, dodged, and weaved to get the little yellow guy eating those pellets and power ups so Pac-Man could have his graze too. We laughed for a good hour just playing that, dodging Wrecks the Doberman's mustard gas farts (remember the Jeff Dunham skit "Achmed the Dead Terrorist?" yeah, Saddam's mustard gas has nothing on a Doberman fart...), and Nan's little fox terrier mix Zoe hopping from person to person looking for attention the entire time. So it was all Pac-Man, dogs and laughter.
When Nan and Carl got back, they brought enough food with them to feed an army. Veggie trays, cheeses, summer sausage, macaroni salad, chips, dip, you name it, they had it. The funniest part is when Nan broke out a Carrot Cake, in which Cait and I had tried the Bellagio Buffet's Carrot Cake at lunch and promptly pushed it away, saying "Um, no," because they had fooled with the Carrot Cake recipe, adding some kind of orange flavoring to it, making it taste terrible. As Cait said, "You don't mess with the Carrot Cake." So as Nan pulled it out, Cait and I broke into peals of laughter. We commenced to graze again and play Brunswick Bowling on the Playstation Move. After bowling and grazing, it was time to head home because I have a very big day today.
My alarm, believe it or not, hasn't even gone off yet. I sacked out at 12:30 last night, OMG, say it with me, that's friggin' early for me to be sacked out, but let me tell you, after all of the activity yesterday, I was wiped out. As soon as I turned out the light and my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
I turned over this morning to my clock that read 8:07 a.m. My alarm was set for 9 a.m. so I'm already an hour ahead of schedule. And am I glad. It's giving me time to write and do my other little buzzing around before I hit the showers.
Today's schedule is something to see. At 11 a.m., I'm off to get my hair done, then at 1 p.m., I'm due over at MAC at the Forum Shops to get my make-up done. Now, the trip to MAC is going to be a real treat. When the news came down that Nan was getting married, we all were excited, but nothing was more exciting than Nan looking at me and asking about a trip to MAC to be done up. I had told her about my trips to MAC to have my face done and she always laughed, but this time she looked at me and said, "Can you call them and set me up an appointment?" I nearly keeled over. I jumped on it so fast, I had dialed the number and made the appointments (I'm going too) and then gave Nan the appointment time 15 minutes later. So, today at 1 p.m. Nan and I will be sitting side by side in the make-up artist's chair.
Now, why is prospect of sitting next to my sister for the make-up so incredible? Well, when I was a kid, Nan used to sit me up on our bathroom counter top and she'd put make-up on me. I personally think I was her practice mannequin so she could see what would look good on her... Every time I'd flinch or make a face, she'd pinch me and say, "Sit still!" So I learned how to sit like a statue for make-up application. Every time I've been to MAC to be made up, they have always commented on how still I sit. Now Nan is going to hear first-hand how well she trained me to do it. I was really tempted to tell the make-up artist at MAC to pinch her every time she'll flinch, but I passed on that. But to sit next to the beautiful Nan, my childhood idol, the arbiter of good taste, fashion and style, and have our make-up done together? A childhood dream come true. So, get ready MAC, the Sisters are coming to see you!
Between games of Pac-Man last night, I told Caitlynd about what Nan and I were going to do with our make-up. I pulled up the MAC website on Nan's laptop and showed Cait the make-up. I finally came clean about what they think are my extravagant tastes...the reason I have make-up consultations, personal shoppers for clothes and so forth is because I have no earthly clue what looks good on me. I'm serious, I'm a fashion accident waiting to happen and if I didn't have make-up folks to pick out what colors for me to wear, a colorist to get my hair just right, clothiers to dress me so I don't look like a total goober walking out my front door, I'd look like a train wreck. I have almost zero style of my own and horrible taste in clothes, so I need a lot of help. That's where the shoppers, make-up artists and stylists come in. When I've got money, I've got an army of folks just so I won't look like a fashion accident.
I explained my make-up choices to her. My face, for its aged imperfections, is still holding up pretty good, my complexion is clear but I'm a little dry in some places and oily in others. The dryness is from my Hashimoto's Thyroidits, the hormone imbalance reeks havoc on my skin, making it dry and flaky. So, to counterbalance it, I wear lots of moisturizer (and when you live in the desert that's a must anyways) and as a base, I don't even wear foundation, I wear a very nice powder from Clinique on top of the moisturizer to keep it light. When I have lots of money to throw around, I go to Prescriptives and pick up a $35 tin of Magic Powder which feels like water on the skin when you apply it. It's super hydrating, so with a combination of moisturizer, sunscreen and that powder, I've got a face that's got plenty of moisture without being too much. Then, I add in the MAC color Blushbaby to my cheeks, then Shroom, Cork and/or Coquette on my lids (applied with a brush, NEVER sponges, sponge applied eyeshadow ewwww...), then finish it off with Clinique's black cake eyeliner (you add water to the brush, then take the amount of color you want off of the cake and apply it) and mascara, followed by just a hint of MAC's Butterfly eyeliner around my bottom lid to emphasize my eye and take attention away from the circles beneath them.
Well, when Cait saw everything and I told her about how fantastic the MAC make-up was (it's the equvalent to wearing a Prada, Coach or Dooney and Burke handbag), she wanted to go with us, so I called up the store and made her an appointment for 2 p.m. She'll hop into the chair when Nan and I get done. Poor Cait, she's stuck living in the sticks and the closest good make-up they have is Merle Norman...*personal shudder*...so she is all sorts of hip on sitting in the chair at MAC.
To be honest, I'm looking forward to my personal consultation today...the combination of Shroom/Cork/Coquette/Blushbaby was prescribed for me a good 15 years ago...I want to see what an update they're going to give me or if what I'm wearing still works. I told Cait about what a nightmare my face was before I took it to MAC. I was wearing purple eyeshadow and applying with a sponge applicator (some sponge eyeshadow applicators can damage the tissue around the eye, causing wrinkles & other problems)...go ahead cringe with me...it did NOT work on my face back then. Who knows what they're going to do with me now.
And talking about MAC, I've got to give a shout out to my buddy Mejan, who also has sat in the chair at MAC for an application...hugs to you Mej, I'll be sitting in the chair thinking of you!
The consultation/application will cost us $50 a piece, but it's a small amount compared to what we'll look like coming out of those chairs. To boot, we'll get a free mascara out of the whole deal, so that's good. The whole thing that I cautioned both Nan and Cait on is that they'll try to sell you stuff (I mean come on, they've got to take their opportunities...it's ok, it's the nature of commerce). The most important thing, when you sit down for something like that is that you keep in mind what you need and what you don't need. Take for example my concealer. I use a Clinique concealer because the color is better and I prefer the coverage. MAC concealer doesn't come in the right shades/coverage for me so I prefer a different brand. The Clinique soap, moisturizer and clarifying lotion I use has been going on my face since I was 13, and it works well for me, I get comments a lot that I look like I'm in my mid-30's when I'm sneaking up on 40, so something's right...so I don't need foundation, powder or anything else outside of what I use from MAC or Clinique. I go to MAC purely for the eyeshadows, blusher, lipliner, lipstick and mascara I use, the rest comes from Clinique so I only get what I need, not what they say I should get, keeping the expense down and getting more bang for my buck. I put Cait in on the skinny...that a color palette from MAC will last a good 3 to 6 months, at $11 a refill, you're looking at $22 a year on the outside for one color...which is not bad. Other eyeshadows have to be reapplied and touched up over a days wearing...MAC doesn't. If you apply it right, it'll stay on all day without being cakey or overdone. *Swoon* I love MAC.
So, three girls with three fresh faces will be coming out of MAC at 3 p.m. When we get done, it's off for a snack and time to get dressed because at 6 p.m. Nan walks down the aisle. I have to say, this is sure a nice change from Nan having to go through chemo. She's so excited. I mean, think about it, Carl is one heck of a guy, he's seen her through her mastectomy, chemo and the gamut, the guy is a total keeper. Besides, I'm a bit greedy...I get a big brother today and I'm thrilled to pieces!
I'm wearing the suit I wore to my nephew's wedding, so I'm ready to go as soon as the other stuff is taken care of. But, in all things, I have to say, I sure wish KP was here, I'd love it if he'd see me all fixed up like this. I'd love to knock his socks off like he knocks mine off every day. Sorry, must have a KP swoon moment...*swoon* Besides, I'll be the 7th wheel today with no date, but it's ok, I'll wait. I've been patient for the last year and a half, I can be patient some more.
OOH...look at the time! Gotta go! Time to hit the shower, grab a bite to eat and get over to the hair salon!
Oh, and for Cait and Nan, the song of the day is just for you...a tune which mentions MAC make up and getting all dressed up...Jennifer Hudson's "All Dressed In Love."
Yesterday, since my nephew and niece are here, I got a call to meet them for lunch, a trip to the Bellagio Buffet, in which, I never eat at buffets (because they're so cliché here), but I have to say the one at Bellagio is first rate. We sat and grazed. LOL, yes, but it's ok that I graze...my metabolism loves it. From fresh California Rolls, salad with balsamic vinagrette, and an oodle of fruit to flank steak, button mushrooms, truffle infused ravioli and a itty bitty spoonful of Key Lime Pie, I was stuffed to the gills.
Then it was off to the mall. Nan needed to pick up a little something for the man who actually grants Christmas wishes...her groom, the wonderful Carl. So, with Ryan, Caitlynd and I in tow, we buzzed around the Meadows Mall for a good two hours, followed by another grazing session at my sisters after Nan and Carl picked up their marriage license.
While Nan and Carl were out doing the marriage license thing, I got to hang out with my sweet boy and sweet girl. Sitting listening to them laugh together and talk, I realized that I am so lucky. I'm so very fortunate to have young people around me like the two of them, and KP's three darlings, Drewbie, T.J. and Kai. My heart felt like it was going to pop with how much love I felt for them.
Well, while we waited for them to come back, Cait, Ryan and I attacked Pac-Man on PS3. (Yes, my very cool big brother has a PS3, with the Playstation Move, be jealous...) I found that Pac-Man has evolved. Yes, yes, it's been 30 years since that little yellow guy started eating pellets, but let me tell you, they 'roided that little sucker up! They gave him bombs and ghosts that sleep around every corner. Pass the ghost, it wakes up and starts the chase. Instead of randomly zooming around the board, they all just try to chase you down. Cries of "Whoa!," "Yikes," "Criminy!" and so forth were being hollered out as we ducked, dodged, and weaved to get the little yellow guy eating those pellets and power ups so Pac-Man could have his graze too. We laughed for a good hour just playing that, dodging Wrecks the Doberman's mustard gas farts (remember the Jeff Dunham skit "Achmed the Dead Terrorist?" yeah, Saddam's mustard gas has nothing on a Doberman fart...), and Nan's little fox terrier mix Zoe hopping from person to person looking for attention the entire time. So it was all Pac-Man, dogs and laughter.
When Nan and Carl got back, they brought enough food with them to feed an army. Veggie trays, cheeses, summer sausage, macaroni salad, chips, dip, you name it, they had it. The funniest part is when Nan broke out a Carrot Cake, in which Cait and I had tried the Bellagio Buffet's Carrot Cake at lunch and promptly pushed it away, saying "Um, no," because they had fooled with the Carrot Cake recipe, adding some kind of orange flavoring to it, making it taste terrible. As Cait said, "You don't mess with the Carrot Cake." So as Nan pulled it out, Cait and I broke into peals of laughter. We commenced to graze again and play Brunswick Bowling on the Playstation Move. After bowling and grazing, it was time to head home because I have a very big day today.
My alarm, believe it or not, hasn't even gone off yet. I sacked out at 12:30 last night, OMG, say it with me, that's friggin' early for me to be sacked out, but let me tell you, after all of the activity yesterday, I was wiped out. As soon as I turned out the light and my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
I turned over this morning to my clock that read 8:07 a.m. My alarm was set for 9 a.m. so I'm already an hour ahead of schedule. And am I glad. It's giving me time to write and do my other little buzzing around before I hit the showers.
Today's schedule is something to see. At 11 a.m., I'm off to get my hair done, then at 1 p.m., I'm due over at MAC at the Forum Shops to get my make-up done. Now, the trip to MAC is going to be a real treat. When the news came down that Nan was getting married, we all were excited, but nothing was more exciting than Nan looking at me and asking about a trip to MAC to be done up. I had told her about my trips to MAC to have my face done and she always laughed, but this time she looked at me and said, "Can you call them and set me up an appointment?" I nearly keeled over. I jumped on it so fast, I had dialed the number and made the appointments (I'm going too) and then gave Nan the appointment time 15 minutes later. So, today at 1 p.m. Nan and I will be sitting side by side in the make-up artist's chair.
Now, why is prospect of sitting next to my sister for the make-up so incredible? Well, when I was a kid, Nan used to sit me up on our bathroom counter top and she'd put make-up on me. I personally think I was her practice mannequin so she could see what would look good on her... Every time I'd flinch or make a face, she'd pinch me and say, "Sit still!" So I learned how to sit like a statue for make-up application. Every time I've been to MAC to be made up, they have always commented on how still I sit. Now Nan is going to hear first-hand how well she trained me to do it. I was really tempted to tell the make-up artist at MAC to pinch her every time she'll flinch, but I passed on that. But to sit next to the beautiful Nan, my childhood idol, the arbiter of good taste, fashion and style, and have our make-up done together? A childhood dream come true. So, get ready MAC, the Sisters are coming to see you!
Between games of Pac-Man last night, I told Caitlynd about what Nan and I were going to do with our make-up. I pulled up the MAC website on Nan's laptop and showed Cait the make-up. I finally came clean about what they think are my extravagant tastes...the reason I have make-up consultations, personal shoppers for clothes and so forth is because I have no earthly clue what looks good on me. I'm serious, I'm a fashion accident waiting to happen and if I didn't have make-up folks to pick out what colors for me to wear, a colorist to get my hair just right, clothiers to dress me so I don't look like a total goober walking out my front door, I'd look like a train wreck. I have almost zero style of my own and horrible taste in clothes, so I need a lot of help. That's where the shoppers, make-up artists and stylists come in. When I've got money, I've got an army of folks just so I won't look like a fashion accident.
I explained my make-up choices to her. My face, for its aged imperfections, is still holding up pretty good, my complexion is clear but I'm a little dry in some places and oily in others. The dryness is from my Hashimoto's Thyroidits, the hormone imbalance reeks havoc on my skin, making it dry and flaky. So, to counterbalance it, I wear lots of moisturizer (and when you live in the desert that's a must anyways) and as a base, I don't even wear foundation, I wear a very nice powder from Clinique on top of the moisturizer to keep it light. When I have lots of money to throw around, I go to Prescriptives and pick up a $35 tin of Magic Powder which feels like water on the skin when you apply it. It's super hydrating, so with a combination of moisturizer, sunscreen and that powder, I've got a face that's got plenty of moisture without being too much. Then, I add in the MAC color Blushbaby to my cheeks, then Shroom, Cork and/or Coquette on my lids (applied with a brush, NEVER sponges, sponge applied eyeshadow ewwww...), then finish it off with Clinique's black cake eyeliner (you add water to the brush, then take the amount of color you want off of the cake and apply it) and mascara, followed by just a hint of MAC's Butterfly eyeliner around my bottom lid to emphasize my eye and take attention away from the circles beneath them.
Well, when Cait saw everything and I told her about how fantastic the MAC make-up was (it's the equvalent to wearing a Prada, Coach or Dooney and Burke handbag), she wanted to go with us, so I called up the store and made her an appointment for 2 p.m. She'll hop into the chair when Nan and I get done. Poor Cait, she's stuck living in the sticks and the closest good make-up they have is Merle Norman...*personal shudder*...so she is all sorts of hip on sitting in the chair at MAC.
To be honest, I'm looking forward to my personal consultation today...the combination of Shroom/Cork/Coquette/Blushbaby was prescribed for me a good 15 years ago...I want to see what an update they're going to give me or if what I'm wearing still works. I told Cait about what a nightmare my face was before I took it to MAC. I was wearing purple eyeshadow and applying with a sponge applicator (some sponge eyeshadow applicators can damage the tissue around the eye, causing wrinkles & other problems)...go ahead cringe with me...it did NOT work on my face back then. Who knows what they're going to do with me now.
And talking about MAC, I've got to give a shout out to my buddy Mejan, who also has sat in the chair at MAC for an application...hugs to you Mej, I'll be sitting in the chair thinking of you!
The consultation/application will cost us $50 a piece, but it's a small amount compared to what we'll look like coming out of those chairs. To boot, we'll get a free mascara out of the whole deal, so that's good. The whole thing that I cautioned both Nan and Cait on is that they'll try to sell you stuff (I mean come on, they've got to take their opportunities...it's ok, it's the nature of commerce). The most important thing, when you sit down for something like that is that you keep in mind what you need and what you don't need. Take for example my concealer. I use a Clinique concealer because the color is better and I prefer the coverage. MAC concealer doesn't come in the right shades/coverage for me so I prefer a different brand. The Clinique soap, moisturizer and clarifying lotion I use has been going on my face since I was 13, and it works well for me, I get comments a lot that I look like I'm in my mid-30's when I'm sneaking up on 40, so something's right...so I don't need foundation, powder or anything else outside of what I use from MAC or Clinique. I go to MAC purely for the eyeshadows, blusher, lipliner, lipstick and mascara I use, the rest comes from Clinique so I only get what I need, not what they say I should get, keeping the expense down and getting more bang for my buck. I put Cait in on the skinny...that a color palette from MAC will last a good 3 to 6 months, at $11 a refill, you're looking at $22 a year on the outside for one color...which is not bad. Other eyeshadows have to be reapplied and touched up over a days wearing...MAC doesn't. If you apply it right, it'll stay on all day without being cakey or overdone. *Swoon* I love MAC.
So, three girls with three fresh faces will be coming out of MAC at 3 p.m. When we get done, it's off for a snack and time to get dressed because at 6 p.m. Nan walks down the aisle. I have to say, this is sure a nice change from Nan having to go through chemo. She's so excited. I mean, think about it, Carl is one heck of a guy, he's seen her through her mastectomy, chemo and the gamut, the guy is a total keeper. Besides, I'm a bit greedy...I get a big brother today and I'm thrilled to pieces!
I'm wearing the suit I wore to my nephew's wedding, so I'm ready to go as soon as the other stuff is taken care of. But, in all things, I have to say, I sure wish KP was here, I'd love it if he'd see me all fixed up like this. I'd love to knock his socks off like he knocks mine off every day. Sorry, must have a KP swoon moment...*swoon* Besides, I'll be the 7th wheel today with no date, but it's ok, I'll wait. I've been patient for the last year and a half, I can be patient some more.
OOH...look at the time! Gotta go! Time to hit the shower, grab a bite to eat and get over to the hair salon!
Oh, and for Cait and Nan, the song of the day is just for you...a tune which mentions MAC make up and getting all dressed up...Jennifer Hudson's "All Dressed In Love."
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Addiction
This one is a tough one, but let's talk about it. Let's just get it all hashed out. I'm fed up with holding it in and not really getting at the true guts of why I'm an addict. Just sufficed to say, being a person with depression, PTSD and a load of abuse over a long number of years, I was willing to do anything to stop hurting. That's where my addiction comes from. It comes from my brain being broken and having my coping mechanisms that are basically shot to hell.
Let's go with my most persistent drug. Nicotine. Yep, a smoker for 20+ years. Why did I start smoking? Because someone handed me a cigarette and taught me how to smoke it when I was 16. After the coughing and choking incident that directly followed, I didn't pick up another cigarette for another two years. On my 18th birthday, after seeing countless girls light up in the bathroom at the high school I spent my senior year at in Florida, with the implicit knowledge that it was forbidden by my parents, I went to the 7-11 across the street from the high school, bought a pack of Capri's, parked myself in the parking lot of the high school and I lit up and taught myself how to smoke. Truth be told, Capri's are like smoking a tampon. Little to nothing comes out of it, but, I wanted to rebel. I had no inclination towards any other drugs, all I wanted to do was break the rules and declare my freedom. Rebelling made all the emotional pain I was feeling secondary, so I kept smoking.
After that, I became a stress smoker. If I felt stressed, I'd light up because the nicotine would calm me down. Instead of separating my emotions from their root causes and the possible issues being reflected on me from the people who were causing the stress, I took the cigarette as my way of walking away from the issues causing me stress and it gave me downtime away from it. Yep, there it is, in plain terms, I'm a runner. If I feel attacked, if I feel abandoned, if I feel anything that causes me stress that I don't understand, I run. If it's a conflict or abuse, I want to break into a full out run and get as far away from it as possible. It goes back to Dr. Drew talking about how addicts, when they feel attacked or abandoned, put up a wall as if the people who are triggering them don't exist. That's what the cigarette did. It smelled, it made me smell and it kept people away from me.
As far back as I can remember, even as a little girl, I remember laying on my bed crying so hard I could feel my heart shattering into small pieces inside my chest. It felt like my soul was being sucked out and leaving me completely hollow. Everywhere I turned, it was ugly and mean and horrible. Incessant yelling, incessant belittling, I never felt a pure source of love that didn't ultimately turn into pain. I was always faced with the fact that if someone told me they loved me, they would always hurt me. So I coped with how I felt by isolating myself. If nothing came near me, then nothing could hurt me. I would run away as far as I could to get away from the pain. All I looked for was a safe place and a way to find peace. I never found it.
Then, in my search for peace, things got out of hand. If I couldn't run from the pain and I always woke back up from sleeping to the same horrible world, why not go to sleep permanently? I remember my first suicide attempt. I was 16 and I took a handful of aspirin. Yeah, I wasn't too bright. I ended up falling asleep. My second attempt was a bit different. I was 26 with tears sliding down my face and a butcher knife in my hands slicing at my wrists. My roommate found me and they called 911. I spent the night in a psychiatric hospital completely freaked out, with a nurse the next day telling me that I didn't do that bad of damage, that "I was only looking for attention." When I told the psychiatrist at the hospital the next morning what the nurse had said, the nurse later came back, physically pinned me against a wall and threatened me with, "If you want attention, I'll make sure you stay in here for the rest of your fucking life." No kidding. I needed treatment and I got threats in its place which reinforced the whole idea that someone who was supposed to care would only be hurtful.
Then, since there was no way out, and I had failed twice at suicide, the next stop was drugs. If I could have smoked it, snorted it or taken it in pill form, I did. From pot to meth, cocaine to ecstasy, I shoved it in my body in hopes that my pain would go away. I found quickly that coke did nothing for me, I was already hyperactive as it was, the meth scared the hell out of me because I love to sleep (another escape mechanism) and weed made me so loopy that it wasn't any fun because I couldn't remember the experiences I was having and I'd just end up asleep again. The one drug that stuck with me was ecstasy. Oh yeah. That was my drug of choice for a while. A friend of mine introduced me to it. Now the kicker here is that ecstasy, or X, was developed to help people cope with PTSD, anxiety and depression...that's right, MDMA. But, the kicker is, most X you can get on the street, since it's illegal, has been mixed with all sorts of other drugs. Heroin was sometimes added, speed added to others...it was like playing Russian roulette every Thursday night. I never knew what I was going to get, what the cut was going to be, but it was the goal of getting my hands on the MDMA that mattered. For $20 a tab, I felt better, it supplied me with the peace I so long had sought. There was no stress, only love, no anxiety, no feeling inferior or unwanted, just lights, dancing and fun with people who thought I was beautiful. How easy of a sell is it to get addicted to that? For someone like me, very. It had a powerful hold on me. I'd work all week long and just wait for my Thursday night so I could get high and feel "normal" in the sense that I could finally feel like everyone else did, with no anxiety, no pain, just happy and fun. There was no pain, only ecstasy. The problem was that with my high came a very large low life, who just happens to look exactly like Hayden Christensen (oh gods, I still have trouble watching the Star Wars prequels, they could easily be twins), that's why, while cute, Hayden Christensen will never be on my hotties list, no matter how anyone may beg. Yep, he was an abusive boyfriend who cheated on me every chance he got, who manipulated me and beat me on a regular basis but I turned the other cheek because he was where the little pill came from that I could take and everything would be filled with joy as soon as I took it. Yeah, right. After finally being fed up with being held up by my throat against a wall for the bajillionth time, I wanted to be rid of him, and luckily for me at that time, my ex-husband had arrived on the scene.
The ex, for all of his shortcomings, before we got romantically involved, saw what was happening to me and he literally picked me up and put me onto the path to sobriety. He saw me through detoxing, through the psychological hold the drug had on me and finally cleaned me up by helping me get rid of the low life. He removed all of the physical negatives from my life, leaving me to only deal with the hardest ones to conquer, the psychological. Every day, he would watch me in horrible destructive patterns, and every day he gave me a new positive focus for my energies. Instead of staying up late, I had to get up early to teach school groups to kids. He gave my creativity an outlet and a path to finding self-worth. I have to give him props for that. He was the first truly positive influence I ever had. Truth told, he's still a positive influence. Even though he's done some pretty horrible things to me, we've become friends. I still call him up with good news about school (in one part to rub his nose in it, the other to hear the encouragement he never fails to offer) and my latest triumph, fitting into a very sexy pair of size 10 jeans.
But it's been a long road from shoving all that crap into my body to where I am now. I still smoke. That's the one thing I just can't quite seem to shake, but recently, my 10 years of sobriety has sat teetering on the edge again. That's right, prescription meds and alcohol reared their head to play havoc on my addictions. We know I have anxiety. Trust me, if you had my life, you'd know why. I suffer from it all the time, it's part and parcel of depression as well. So, I bounce back and forth like a tennis ball on some days, and truth told, for the last eight months I've been unintentionally flirting with danger again.
Now, we all remember the horrid $11/hr job that was keeping me from school. The fact that I was doing manual labor when all I wanted was to finish school and land one of those fancy, high paying jobs for doing what I seem to do best, write. So, as you recall, standing shaking like a leaf in a doctors office, he substituted the Xanax I liked so much that eased my anxiety within its' prescribed usage without making me loopy or high, with Valium. But, here's the kicker, both drugs are in Dr. Drew's hated benzo family...benzodiazepines, which are ludicrously dangerous when mixed with alcohol.
Oh, let's just out and out say it, eight months ago when I was having a horrible panic attack, when I couldn't calm down, when the Valium by itself just wouldn't knock the edge off, I decided to have a drink. Yep. Go ahead. Put your palm to your forehead and give me the OMG that just needs to happen. What I didn't realize at the time was that I had just mixed a death cocktail and not even known it. Sure, the pill bottle reads "do not take with alcohol," but when the pain inside is so much more than you can handle, you'll do whatever it takes to get it to stop. So, when I found out how well it worked and how I felt better when I combined the two, I proceeded to knock back a Valium with booze when stress would even try to rear its head. That went on for a good little while almost on a daily basis.
Then my chronic nightmares started popping up again, you remember the gruesome one I'm saddled with at the moment...I wrote about it just a couple of weeks ago...I'm not writing it out again, you go back and find it...the point is, that when I saw in the dream that the drug was the thing holding me together, I realized my sobriety was in serious jeopardy. I had to stop everything. The pill bottle is sitting on my desk looking at me, daring me to even touch it. I was offered alcohol during the holidays and wouldn't touch that either. It was at that point I realized that my addiction was being triggered in a really big way and I had to do what I do best when things like that happen, I had to shut it all down and get away from the things that were stressing me out and causing me to use.
I have issues. As I've written before, stress = trigger. Abuse = trigger, inadequacy = trigger, the list goes on and on, but I realized at that point I needed to dig in and fix the triggers so that my addiction can't control me any more. I have to control me. The drugs don't get to have that part of my soul. I'm not going to let it. I've seen where that path goes and I'm not going there. I'm out and out refusing to let my triggers control me.
So, over the last three months, I've been looking at what's triggering me first hand and being present in the moment. There are times I do get uncomfortable when confronting the memories that are the root of my triggers. Sometimes I don't do very well when dealing with them, but there's one thing I've not done and that's reach for either pill or booze bottle while doing it. The last month has been some of the best work I've done in a while. I tackled my inadequacy issues with my family. Those are a work in progress and it's going to take years to really have that come together, but it's a step. I've accepted my actions and their repercussions, I've apologized for a lot, that's another step. I've recognized for the millionth time that abuse is a cycle passed from generation to generation and it's up to me to stop that cycle.
Being an addict is hard. If someone telling you that kicking a habit of any type is easy, they're lying to you. Life is not easy and I honestly don't think it is meant to be easy. No one comes along and says, "When you're faced with X problem, this is how you cope with it." No, you have to find your own healthy ways to cope. When your coping mechanisms are broken, you have to research and read to find out what the healthy way is to do it and you try your hardest to emulate that and make it a habit, much like the drugs were. I've started to replace some of my running habits with standing my ground and refusing to run from abuse, instead I face it and stop it in its tracks. I'm formidable. I had forgotten that. All it took was the courage to stand up and say "no more." The A's I've made in school were done sober and they are a testament not to how smart others think I am, but how smart I know I am. That is a big step. Who was it that said the un-tread upon path is often the harder one to take? It is. But I'm also realizing that abuse, and the issues of others that I so desperately try to fix aren't mine to fix in the first place, I made myself a dumping zone for others so I could forget about my problems and procrastinate fixing them. I've found that people target me because I have a really big heart and that sometimes people are jealous or misunderstand the positive flow of energy that I try to keep going. Other times, I just run foul of people who are just into things for themselves which goes contrary to where I'm going. All that stuff is hard to weed through, it's hard to distinguish one from the other at times.
But, I'm sober. The cigarettes are still hanging around though and I hate that stress still is making me use. Nicotine is a drug, just like all of the others I've taken in my lifetime. It's going to be the hardest battle to win. But until I get all of the other crap in my head taken care of, and learn proper coping mechanisms, maybe there will just be a day that I'll be able kiss all of my addictions goodbye. I sure hope so.
It's like I always say, love is the only truth and worth sharing every day...especially with yourself. You have to love yourself enough on the inside to make it through the tough moments on your own. Only then can someone else love you like you want to be loved. That's one thing I keep reminding myself of every single day. I have to get better, I don't have a choice. If I want to get somewhere in life, I had to do what I did when the ex hit the door, when I couldn't stand being beaten by an abusive boyfriend anymore, I have to pick myself up by my bootstraps and keep walking. No one is going to do it for me, I have to love myself enough to do it for myself.
A couple of weeks ago, I went through a very tough night of having a racing mind that just would not let me sleep, much like now...but some little part of me rose up and said, "Give yourself peace, you're the only one who can." That's when I realized that my search for it for the last 28 years has been futile. Things are always in the last place you look, aren't they? Like I always say, I don't have common sense to pee on, or maybe it just takes a long time to get there.
I hate being an addict. I hate where it comes from, I hate it that my brain is broken. Well, we did yoga...now, how about a good therapist. Dicey proposition at best, especially with my healthcare provider who I've been calling for the last year trying to find a good shrink, but hasn't called back. Well, if I got aggressive with my disease without a shrink this far, I'm doing ok, but I think I need to be a little more aggressive with those damn doctors so I can find a good one and get even better.
The spring semester starts in 10 days. Personal Growth is on the schedule...it may be just the right thing at just the right time. Cross your fingers for me, huh?
Let's go with my most persistent drug. Nicotine. Yep, a smoker for 20+ years. Why did I start smoking? Because someone handed me a cigarette and taught me how to smoke it when I was 16. After the coughing and choking incident that directly followed, I didn't pick up another cigarette for another two years. On my 18th birthday, after seeing countless girls light up in the bathroom at the high school I spent my senior year at in Florida, with the implicit knowledge that it was forbidden by my parents, I went to the 7-11 across the street from the high school, bought a pack of Capri's, parked myself in the parking lot of the high school and I lit up and taught myself how to smoke. Truth be told, Capri's are like smoking a tampon. Little to nothing comes out of it, but, I wanted to rebel. I had no inclination towards any other drugs, all I wanted to do was break the rules and declare my freedom. Rebelling made all the emotional pain I was feeling secondary, so I kept smoking.
After that, I became a stress smoker. If I felt stressed, I'd light up because the nicotine would calm me down. Instead of separating my emotions from their root causes and the possible issues being reflected on me from the people who were causing the stress, I took the cigarette as my way of walking away from the issues causing me stress and it gave me downtime away from it. Yep, there it is, in plain terms, I'm a runner. If I feel attacked, if I feel abandoned, if I feel anything that causes me stress that I don't understand, I run. If it's a conflict or abuse, I want to break into a full out run and get as far away from it as possible. It goes back to Dr. Drew talking about how addicts, when they feel attacked or abandoned, put up a wall as if the people who are triggering them don't exist. That's what the cigarette did. It smelled, it made me smell and it kept people away from me.
As far back as I can remember, even as a little girl, I remember laying on my bed crying so hard I could feel my heart shattering into small pieces inside my chest. It felt like my soul was being sucked out and leaving me completely hollow. Everywhere I turned, it was ugly and mean and horrible. Incessant yelling, incessant belittling, I never felt a pure source of love that didn't ultimately turn into pain. I was always faced with the fact that if someone told me they loved me, they would always hurt me. So I coped with how I felt by isolating myself. If nothing came near me, then nothing could hurt me. I would run away as far as I could to get away from the pain. All I looked for was a safe place and a way to find peace. I never found it.
Then, in my search for peace, things got out of hand. If I couldn't run from the pain and I always woke back up from sleeping to the same horrible world, why not go to sleep permanently? I remember my first suicide attempt. I was 16 and I took a handful of aspirin. Yeah, I wasn't too bright. I ended up falling asleep. My second attempt was a bit different. I was 26 with tears sliding down my face and a butcher knife in my hands slicing at my wrists. My roommate found me and they called 911. I spent the night in a psychiatric hospital completely freaked out, with a nurse the next day telling me that I didn't do that bad of damage, that "I was only looking for attention." When I told the psychiatrist at the hospital the next morning what the nurse had said, the nurse later came back, physically pinned me against a wall and threatened me with, "If you want attention, I'll make sure you stay in here for the rest of your fucking life." No kidding. I needed treatment and I got threats in its place which reinforced the whole idea that someone who was supposed to care would only be hurtful.
Then, since there was no way out, and I had failed twice at suicide, the next stop was drugs. If I could have smoked it, snorted it or taken it in pill form, I did. From pot to meth, cocaine to ecstasy, I shoved it in my body in hopes that my pain would go away. I found quickly that coke did nothing for me, I was already hyperactive as it was, the meth scared the hell out of me because I love to sleep (another escape mechanism) and weed made me so loopy that it wasn't any fun because I couldn't remember the experiences I was having and I'd just end up asleep again. The one drug that stuck with me was ecstasy. Oh yeah. That was my drug of choice for a while. A friend of mine introduced me to it. Now the kicker here is that ecstasy, or X, was developed to help people cope with PTSD, anxiety and depression...that's right, MDMA. But, the kicker is, most X you can get on the street, since it's illegal, has been mixed with all sorts of other drugs. Heroin was sometimes added, speed added to others...it was like playing Russian roulette every Thursday night. I never knew what I was going to get, what the cut was going to be, but it was the goal of getting my hands on the MDMA that mattered. For $20 a tab, I felt better, it supplied me with the peace I so long had sought. There was no stress, only love, no anxiety, no feeling inferior or unwanted, just lights, dancing and fun with people who thought I was beautiful. How easy of a sell is it to get addicted to that? For someone like me, very. It had a powerful hold on me. I'd work all week long and just wait for my Thursday night so I could get high and feel "normal" in the sense that I could finally feel like everyone else did, with no anxiety, no pain, just happy and fun. There was no pain, only ecstasy. The problem was that with my high came a very large low life, who just happens to look exactly like Hayden Christensen (oh gods, I still have trouble watching the Star Wars prequels, they could easily be twins), that's why, while cute, Hayden Christensen will never be on my hotties list, no matter how anyone may beg. Yep, he was an abusive boyfriend who cheated on me every chance he got, who manipulated me and beat me on a regular basis but I turned the other cheek because he was where the little pill came from that I could take and everything would be filled with joy as soon as I took it. Yeah, right. After finally being fed up with being held up by my throat against a wall for the bajillionth time, I wanted to be rid of him, and luckily for me at that time, my ex-husband had arrived on the scene.
The ex, for all of his shortcomings, before we got romantically involved, saw what was happening to me and he literally picked me up and put me onto the path to sobriety. He saw me through detoxing, through the psychological hold the drug had on me and finally cleaned me up by helping me get rid of the low life. He removed all of the physical negatives from my life, leaving me to only deal with the hardest ones to conquer, the psychological. Every day, he would watch me in horrible destructive patterns, and every day he gave me a new positive focus for my energies. Instead of staying up late, I had to get up early to teach school groups to kids. He gave my creativity an outlet and a path to finding self-worth. I have to give him props for that. He was the first truly positive influence I ever had. Truth told, he's still a positive influence. Even though he's done some pretty horrible things to me, we've become friends. I still call him up with good news about school (in one part to rub his nose in it, the other to hear the encouragement he never fails to offer) and my latest triumph, fitting into a very sexy pair of size 10 jeans.
But it's been a long road from shoving all that crap into my body to where I am now. I still smoke. That's the one thing I just can't quite seem to shake, but recently, my 10 years of sobriety has sat teetering on the edge again. That's right, prescription meds and alcohol reared their head to play havoc on my addictions. We know I have anxiety. Trust me, if you had my life, you'd know why. I suffer from it all the time, it's part and parcel of depression as well. So, I bounce back and forth like a tennis ball on some days, and truth told, for the last eight months I've been unintentionally flirting with danger again.
Now, we all remember the horrid $11/hr job that was keeping me from school. The fact that I was doing manual labor when all I wanted was to finish school and land one of those fancy, high paying jobs for doing what I seem to do best, write. So, as you recall, standing shaking like a leaf in a doctors office, he substituted the Xanax I liked so much that eased my anxiety within its' prescribed usage without making me loopy or high, with Valium. But, here's the kicker, both drugs are in Dr. Drew's hated benzo family...benzodiazepines, which are ludicrously dangerous when mixed with alcohol.
Oh, let's just out and out say it, eight months ago when I was having a horrible panic attack, when I couldn't calm down, when the Valium by itself just wouldn't knock the edge off, I decided to have a drink. Yep. Go ahead. Put your palm to your forehead and give me the OMG that just needs to happen. What I didn't realize at the time was that I had just mixed a death cocktail and not even known it. Sure, the pill bottle reads "do not take with alcohol," but when the pain inside is so much more than you can handle, you'll do whatever it takes to get it to stop. So, when I found out how well it worked and how I felt better when I combined the two, I proceeded to knock back a Valium with booze when stress would even try to rear its head. That went on for a good little while almost on a daily basis.
Then my chronic nightmares started popping up again, you remember the gruesome one I'm saddled with at the moment...I wrote about it just a couple of weeks ago...I'm not writing it out again, you go back and find it...the point is, that when I saw in the dream that the drug was the thing holding me together, I realized my sobriety was in serious jeopardy. I had to stop everything. The pill bottle is sitting on my desk looking at me, daring me to even touch it. I was offered alcohol during the holidays and wouldn't touch that either. It was at that point I realized that my addiction was being triggered in a really big way and I had to do what I do best when things like that happen, I had to shut it all down and get away from the things that were stressing me out and causing me to use.
I have issues. As I've written before, stress = trigger. Abuse = trigger, inadequacy = trigger, the list goes on and on, but I realized at that point I needed to dig in and fix the triggers so that my addiction can't control me any more. I have to control me. The drugs don't get to have that part of my soul. I'm not going to let it. I've seen where that path goes and I'm not going there. I'm out and out refusing to let my triggers control me.
So, over the last three months, I've been looking at what's triggering me first hand and being present in the moment. There are times I do get uncomfortable when confronting the memories that are the root of my triggers. Sometimes I don't do very well when dealing with them, but there's one thing I've not done and that's reach for either pill or booze bottle while doing it. The last month has been some of the best work I've done in a while. I tackled my inadequacy issues with my family. Those are a work in progress and it's going to take years to really have that come together, but it's a step. I've accepted my actions and their repercussions, I've apologized for a lot, that's another step. I've recognized for the millionth time that abuse is a cycle passed from generation to generation and it's up to me to stop that cycle.
Being an addict is hard. If someone telling you that kicking a habit of any type is easy, they're lying to you. Life is not easy and I honestly don't think it is meant to be easy. No one comes along and says, "When you're faced with X problem, this is how you cope with it." No, you have to find your own healthy ways to cope. When your coping mechanisms are broken, you have to research and read to find out what the healthy way is to do it and you try your hardest to emulate that and make it a habit, much like the drugs were. I've started to replace some of my running habits with standing my ground and refusing to run from abuse, instead I face it and stop it in its tracks. I'm formidable. I had forgotten that. All it took was the courage to stand up and say "no more." The A's I've made in school were done sober and they are a testament not to how smart others think I am, but how smart I know I am. That is a big step. Who was it that said the un-tread upon path is often the harder one to take? It is. But I'm also realizing that abuse, and the issues of others that I so desperately try to fix aren't mine to fix in the first place, I made myself a dumping zone for others so I could forget about my problems and procrastinate fixing them. I've found that people target me because I have a really big heart and that sometimes people are jealous or misunderstand the positive flow of energy that I try to keep going. Other times, I just run foul of people who are just into things for themselves which goes contrary to where I'm going. All that stuff is hard to weed through, it's hard to distinguish one from the other at times.
But, I'm sober. The cigarettes are still hanging around though and I hate that stress still is making me use. Nicotine is a drug, just like all of the others I've taken in my lifetime. It's going to be the hardest battle to win. But until I get all of the other crap in my head taken care of, and learn proper coping mechanisms, maybe there will just be a day that I'll be able kiss all of my addictions goodbye. I sure hope so.
It's like I always say, love is the only truth and worth sharing every day...especially with yourself. You have to love yourself enough on the inside to make it through the tough moments on your own. Only then can someone else love you like you want to be loved. That's one thing I keep reminding myself of every single day. I have to get better, I don't have a choice. If I want to get somewhere in life, I had to do what I did when the ex hit the door, when I couldn't stand being beaten by an abusive boyfriend anymore, I have to pick myself up by my bootstraps and keep walking. No one is going to do it for me, I have to love myself enough to do it for myself.
A couple of weeks ago, I went through a very tough night of having a racing mind that just would not let me sleep, much like now...but some little part of me rose up and said, "Give yourself peace, you're the only one who can." That's when I realized that my search for it for the last 28 years has been futile. Things are always in the last place you look, aren't they? Like I always say, I don't have common sense to pee on, or maybe it just takes a long time to get there.
I hate being an addict. I hate where it comes from, I hate it that my brain is broken. Well, we did yoga...now, how about a good therapist. Dicey proposition at best, especially with my healthcare provider who I've been calling for the last year trying to find a good shrink, but hasn't called back. Well, if I got aggressive with my disease without a shrink this far, I'm doing ok, but I think I need to be a little more aggressive with those damn doctors so I can find a good one and get even better.
The spring semester starts in 10 days. Personal Growth is on the schedule...it may be just the right thing at just the right time. Cross your fingers for me, huh?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Raise your glass...
The last couple of days have been absolutely transformative for me. I went from doubting myself 24/7 to having this overwhelming feeling of joy which is permeating everything around me with this incredible energy!
Ok, for you Myst Universe folks out there...this relyimah is doing the freaking happy dance. Catch it this way in terms of the Book of D'ni...the Paar'li have been silenced and sent back to their homeworld and the linking book locked safely away with a do-not-disturb sign placed on the doorway and carved into the stone. Ymur didn't even have to raise up and vanquish them. Feel me? There is a celebration happening right now the likes of which Yahvo has never seen. If you're thinking in terms of the great kings of D'ni, the kidnapping plot has been foiled and the Loshemanesh Laws are in FULL EFFECT. Now the Myst Universe folks are down with the scene...dance with me y'all...it's time to par-tay... Maintainers are on the scene ensuring safety and the world is a good and happy place. If a Veovis-type person shows up to the party, they'll get to see bio-luminescent algae up-close and personal because I'm throwing them in the lake.
Ok, for you Myst civilians out there, let's just say that I've changed the rules a bit. Yeah. "A bit" is an understatement. I decided to put my fate in my own hands and the response from all of my friends has been over-friggin-whelming. When you make changes in how you view life, those who have known you a long time have one of two reactions to it, they'll either support it 100% or they'll give their criticism and let you know their point of view. Well, those disagreeing with my latest change have stayed blessedly silent, either that or they aren't going to weigh in either way, which is very sweet and they get a thumbs up from me to just let the positive flow by not interrupting it with negatives. However, the majority of my pals have been 100% supportive.
I broke away from my old guild. I did. I just decided to walk my own path. It's like Barry said, if people aren't 100% on board with what you're trying to do, it's misguided. I could have all of the noblest goals in the world, but if it was aimed at the wrong audience, it was all for naught no matter how noble. So, I packed up my noble goals and decided to take Emerson's words to heart and cut my own path. I figured it wouldn't do me any good to keep doing something that wasn't appreciated, wanted or wasn't fun (or healthy) for me. So, being encouraged by a pal, I remembered Barry again when he reminded me it's ok to be a builder of empires, so with some help, I constructed my own guild, remembering that to build an empire, it has to have a strong base of humility, helpfulness and lots of love. I figured that I'd be alone and that I could just relax and play on my own, no stress, no hassles, no answering to anyone but me...most of all, not having to leave my fate to someone who made me me miserable.
Well, I have to say, my screen doesn't light up in pink anymore except from folks from all over congratulating me and cheering me on. A couple of people even whispered me, "Thank you for finally putting a stop to letting people use you..." My jaw dropped on that one. I hadn't thought of it that way before, but after the stories I've been hearing from people who are supporting me, I kind of feel guilty because I became this great welcome mat in my old guild that people just loved being around, and made them feel like they belonged there, but when they found out what was actually in the guild, they sat there miserable (like I did) or eventually bailed out. After hearing how they really felt, I was overwhelmed with guilt. I felt like I had lied to them, when the truth was, I was just being me, but I had to accept the fact that well, some folks in my old guild weren't like me at all. They just used me to make sure everything held together like some crazy form of duct tape.
What shocked the ever loving hell out of me was that I thought I was going to be alone on my path, but it ended up completely the opposite. My screen lit up in pink with nothing but whispers saying, "Take me with you." Jaw drop again. Wait! I thought what I was doing was misguided! Oh no...it gets better, over the course of the last 4 days, I've been bombarded with one sentence that is still shocking the hell out of me every time I hear it...
"I only stayed because you were there."
My jaw is STILL hanging open from that. I really didn't think people were hanging around for me, I mean come on, WoW players are selfish and after the quickest route for loot, aren't they? Weren't my efforts misguided like Barry said? I mean, come on, I'm not that special...I'm sweet to people, I say "please" and "thank you", I give more than I take...and most of all I don't ask anyone to do what I wouldn't, following the "do unto others as you would have done unto you" golden rule. Is that so rare? Last time I checked, I burp, fart and go to the bathroom like everyone else and I definitely don't shit marble. So why the hell did they want to come with me?
Seems as their first impression of me with my whole "guild mom" routine really resonated with them. They felt like they were cared about and that sold them on the whole prospect of playing in my old guild. But it seems as since I left, they don't want to be there anymore because I guess what I do, no one else did. Hmm...putting it into that context, is what I did so misguided? Yeah it was, because the hard truth is, I didn't belong there to begin with. I'm just not cutthroat enough.
Now, here comes the thing that gets me, people are still coming. They're transferring servers to be a part of my new little endeavor. People came from out of thin air that I've known for a while and are asking for invites...they're talking to their friends to bring them along. Out of nowhere, I've not even spent time talking to anyone, outside of two people who mean a lot to me, about the whole thing. It's viral! I'm not even making an effort and it's like a tidal wave coming in. As soon as people found out what was happening, I've had nothing but whispers of support, e-mails, cheering, and all of the things I never in my wildest dreams thought would happen! And they're all just coming in! I'm blown away. Just absolutely jaw-on-the-floor blown away.
Here's one more for the jaw drop list, I had someone send me money via paypal to pay for our vent server for the year. I didn't even say anything and they just stepped right up and sent money! I have folks volunteering for jobs like leading old world raids, organizing fun social events, I've had requests from people asking if they could become the guild tailor, alchemist, leatherworker, engineer, you name the profession and they've all stepped up and volunteered! I didn't even ask! They're just so on board with my whole philosophy of "greatness comes from a feeling of family," that they're going out of their way to make sure the folks are getting organized into five man heroic groups and gearing up, they're making each other gear, food, flasks and the guild bank is filling up with things for people to use! They've all been actively collaborating with me and each other to create an organization that supports and succeeds because they believe in each other and would never dream of leaving anyone behind.
I. am. blown. away. I thought I'd be alone, I really did.
Now what I did put a halt to is what I found out about last night, which is one of them, in their zealous support, had been talking to a few people from my old guild to try to get them to come over with us. When I heard that, I about flipped. I put my foot down and said a resounding "NO MORE" to them. I told them, "Look around. Is there anyone here that has been recruited? No, there's not, everyone that can see our guild chat is here of their own free will. If other folks want to come along, they'll whisper us, so don't bother anyone in our old guild anymore. Our old guild was kind to us and I want them left alone, they've already taken enough losses. We're not desperate for people, we've got plenty of folks here already to do any number of things, so you let them alone. And that goes for everyone. You leave those poor souls alone, they're playing the way they want to, so just as you want to have fun, you let them have theirs. The choice to stay or go is theirs and theirs alone, we should not be any sort of influence in their decisions, they're adults, they can make up their minds on their own. As I respect them, we should all do them the same service, no matter how you feel about what happened to you or me or whomever. We all have friends, we're all social, but don't you DARE try to recruit anyone, we're a guild of free will and folks who WANT to be here and it's going to stay that way. If they want in, they'll let us know." So after stamping out my first fire, everything went back to business as usual with a stern warning to the individual who took it upon himself to go try to get people. I thanked him for the effort, but reminded him it wasn't appropriate and not how I do business.
After all that, we headed off to organized five man heroics. Bosses fell, people picked up gear, things were placed in the guild bank and it was very awesome listening to people talk freely, constructively offering solutions and working together for a larger purpose. We had our moments of wiping, but it was such a unique experience...everyone exercised a level of patience and perseverance like nothing I had ever seen. After a wipe, it was a breakdown to even the smallest of spells and abilities to try to get the pull right. Instead of just one or two people discussing it, everyone did. There was no blame, no calling people out, just constructive suggestions and adjustments. Sure enough, with everyone communicating and even a lecture on "hold your nut" for those really crazy DPS folks who love to pull aggro and rage starve a tank, it started clicking in a huge way. I walked out of the instances just blown away on what a beautiful sight a group of people who WANT to play together and have a common goal look like. My jaw is still hanging open.
What I still can not get over, besides the fact that it's snowing in Vegas right now...is that all of those people followed me. I mean, I figured maybe, on the outside and at the most, one or two would want to tag along...but not on the scale I'm experiencing.
It's amazing what happens when people feel wanted, valued and supported. I told them, a guild is like a house, we have to have a solid foundation of trust and acceptance. Everyone here has their own innate nutritional value they bring to the table and have abilities that will amaze us if we just give it a chance. The walls will be decorated with love, respect and fun. And, if I hear anyone maliciously telling someone else they suck, they're out on their ass. At which point, they all commenced to tell each other they sucked in a very joking way. *facepalm* Which made us all burst into laughter because we all know that we don't suck and we know how to play.
Wow, to go from negative to positive...it's like the sun has broken through the clouds...if it doesn't last forever, I'm cool with it, but this has got to be bar-none one of the most positive experiences I've ever had.
Ok, on that note, as I raise my glass to all of the darling souls who have been giving me nothing but positive energy and support, let's boot up the newest addition to the soundtrack, P!nk's "Raise Your Glass."
Ok, for you Myst Universe folks out there...this relyimah is doing the freaking happy dance. Catch it this way in terms of the Book of D'ni...the Paar'li have been silenced and sent back to their homeworld and the linking book locked safely away with a do-not-disturb sign placed on the doorway and carved into the stone. Ymur didn't even have to raise up and vanquish them. Feel me? There is a celebration happening right now the likes of which Yahvo has never seen. If you're thinking in terms of the great kings of D'ni, the kidnapping plot has been foiled and the Loshemanesh Laws are in FULL EFFECT. Now the Myst Universe folks are down with the scene...dance with me y'all...it's time to par-tay... Maintainers are on the scene ensuring safety and the world is a good and happy place. If a Veovis-type person shows up to the party, they'll get to see bio-luminescent algae up-close and personal because I'm throwing them in the lake.
Ok, for you Myst civilians out there, let's just say that I've changed the rules a bit. Yeah. "A bit" is an understatement. I decided to put my fate in my own hands and the response from all of my friends has been over-friggin-whelming. When you make changes in how you view life, those who have known you a long time have one of two reactions to it, they'll either support it 100% or they'll give their criticism and let you know their point of view. Well, those disagreeing with my latest change have stayed blessedly silent, either that or they aren't going to weigh in either way, which is very sweet and they get a thumbs up from me to just let the positive flow by not interrupting it with negatives. However, the majority of my pals have been 100% supportive.
I broke away from my old guild. I did. I just decided to walk my own path. It's like Barry said, if people aren't 100% on board with what you're trying to do, it's misguided. I could have all of the noblest goals in the world, but if it was aimed at the wrong audience, it was all for naught no matter how noble. So, I packed up my noble goals and decided to take Emerson's words to heart and cut my own path. I figured it wouldn't do me any good to keep doing something that wasn't appreciated, wanted or wasn't fun (or healthy) for me. So, being encouraged by a pal, I remembered Barry again when he reminded me it's ok to be a builder of empires, so with some help, I constructed my own guild, remembering that to build an empire, it has to have a strong base of humility, helpfulness and lots of love. I figured that I'd be alone and that I could just relax and play on my own, no stress, no hassles, no answering to anyone but me...most of all, not having to leave my fate to someone who made me me miserable.
Well, I have to say, my screen doesn't light up in pink anymore except from folks from all over congratulating me and cheering me on. A couple of people even whispered me, "Thank you for finally putting a stop to letting people use you..." My jaw dropped on that one. I hadn't thought of it that way before, but after the stories I've been hearing from people who are supporting me, I kind of feel guilty because I became this great welcome mat in my old guild that people just loved being around, and made them feel like they belonged there, but when they found out what was actually in the guild, they sat there miserable (like I did) or eventually bailed out. After hearing how they really felt, I was overwhelmed with guilt. I felt like I had lied to them, when the truth was, I was just being me, but I had to accept the fact that well, some folks in my old guild weren't like me at all. They just used me to make sure everything held together like some crazy form of duct tape.
What shocked the ever loving hell out of me was that I thought I was going to be alone on my path, but it ended up completely the opposite. My screen lit up in pink with nothing but whispers saying, "Take me with you." Jaw drop again. Wait! I thought what I was doing was misguided! Oh no...it gets better, over the course of the last 4 days, I've been bombarded with one sentence that is still shocking the hell out of me every time I hear it...
"I only stayed because you were there."
My jaw is STILL hanging open from that. I really didn't think people were hanging around for me, I mean come on, WoW players are selfish and after the quickest route for loot, aren't they? Weren't my efforts misguided like Barry said? I mean, come on, I'm not that special...I'm sweet to people, I say "please" and "thank you", I give more than I take...and most of all I don't ask anyone to do what I wouldn't, following the "do unto others as you would have done unto you" golden rule. Is that so rare? Last time I checked, I burp, fart and go to the bathroom like everyone else and I definitely don't shit marble. So why the hell did they want to come with me?
Seems as their first impression of me with my whole "guild mom" routine really resonated with them. They felt like they were cared about and that sold them on the whole prospect of playing in my old guild. But it seems as since I left, they don't want to be there anymore because I guess what I do, no one else did. Hmm...putting it into that context, is what I did so misguided? Yeah it was, because the hard truth is, I didn't belong there to begin with. I'm just not cutthroat enough.
Now, here comes the thing that gets me, people are still coming. They're transferring servers to be a part of my new little endeavor. People came from out of thin air that I've known for a while and are asking for invites...they're talking to their friends to bring them along. Out of nowhere, I've not even spent time talking to anyone, outside of two people who mean a lot to me, about the whole thing. It's viral! I'm not even making an effort and it's like a tidal wave coming in. As soon as people found out what was happening, I've had nothing but whispers of support, e-mails, cheering, and all of the things I never in my wildest dreams thought would happen! And they're all just coming in! I'm blown away. Just absolutely jaw-on-the-floor blown away.
Here's one more for the jaw drop list, I had someone send me money via paypal to pay for our vent server for the year. I didn't even say anything and they just stepped right up and sent money! I have folks volunteering for jobs like leading old world raids, organizing fun social events, I've had requests from people asking if they could become the guild tailor, alchemist, leatherworker, engineer, you name the profession and they've all stepped up and volunteered! I didn't even ask! They're just so on board with my whole philosophy of "greatness comes from a feeling of family," that they're going out of their way to make sure the folks are getting organized into five man heroic groups and gearing up, they're making each other gear, food, flasks and the guild bank is filling up with things for people to use! They've all been actively collaborating with me and each other to create an organization that supports and succeeds because they believe in each other and would never dream of leaving anyone behind.
I. am. blown. away. I thought I'd be alone, I really did.
Now what I did put a halt to is what I found out about last night, which is one of them, in their zealous support, had been talking to a few people from my old guild to try to get them to come over with us. When I heard that, I about flipped. I put my foot down and said a resounding "NO MORE" to them. I told them, "Look around. Is there anyone here that has been recruited? No, there's not, everyone that can see our guild chat is here of their own free will. If other folks want to come along, they'll whisper us, so don't bother anyone in our old guild anymore. Our old guild was kind to us and I want them left alone, they've already taken enough losses. We're not desperate for people, we've got plenty of folks here already to do any number of things, so you let them alone. And that goes for everyone. You leave those poor souls alone, they're playing the way they want to, so just as you want to have fun, you let them have theirs. The choice to stay or go is theirs and theirs alone, we should not be any sort of influence in their decisions, they're adults, they can make up their minds on their own. As I respect them, we should all do them the same service, no matter how you feel about what happened to you or me or whomever. We all have friends, we're all social, but don't you DARE try to recruit anyone, we're a guild of free will and folks who WANT to be here and it's going to stay that way. If they want in, they'll let us know." So after stamping out my first fire, everything went back to business as usual with a stern warning to the individual who took it upon himself to go try to get people. I thanked him for the effort, but reminded him it wasn't appropriate and not how I do business.
After all that, we headed off to organized five man heroics. Bosses fell, people picked up gear, things were placed in the guild bank and it was very awesome listening to people talk freely, constructively offering solutions and working together for a larger purpose. We had our moments of wiping, but it was such a unique experience...everyone exercised a level of patience and perseverance like nothing I had ever seen. After a wipe, it was a breakdown to even the smallest of spells and abilities to try to get the pull right. Instead of just one or two people discussing it, everyone did. There was no blame, no calling people out, just constructive suggestions and adjustments. Sure enough, with everyone communicating and even a lecture on "hold your nut" for those really crazy DPS folks who love to pull aggro and rage starve a tank, it started clicking in a huge way. I walked out of the instances just blown away on what a beautiful sight a group of people who WANT to play together and have a common goal look like. My jaw is still hanging open.
What I still can not get over, besides the fact that it's snowing in Vegas right now...is that all of those people followed me. I mean, I figured maybe, on the outside and at the most, one or two would want to tag along...but not on the scale I'm experiencing.
It's amazing what happens when people feel wanted, valued and supported. I told them, a guild is like a house, we have to have a solid foundation of trust and acceptance. Everyone here has their own innate nutritional value they bring to the table and have abilities that will amaze us if we just give it a chance. The walls will be decorated with love, respect and fun. And, if I hear anyone maliciously telling someone else they suck, they're out on their ass. At which point, they all commenced to tell each other they sucked in a very joking way. *facepalm* Which made us all burst into laughter because we all know that we don't suck and we know how to play.
Wow, to go from negative to positive...it's like the sun has broken through the clouds...if it doesn't last forever, I'm cool with it, but this has got to be bar-none one of the most positive experiences I've ever had.
Ok, on that note, as I raise my glass to all of the darling souls who have been giving me nothing but positive energy and support, let's boot up the newest addition to the soundtrack, P!nk's "Raise Your Glass."
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Shrinkage...
Ok, I have to stop for a quick moment to be thrilled with something...
Apparently, and yes, this is a Captain Obvious moment, getting going under your own power and making things happen for yourself agrees with not only the mental aspects of life, it also impacts the physical as well!
Forgive me as I jump up and down...but I got on the scale today...144 pounds...which totals 31 pounds that I've lost since my ex left, and it's 4 pounds gone over the last two months!
*Happy Dance*
Since everyone gripes about gaining weight during the holidays, how the heck did I manage to lose weight during the most food intensive time of the year? No clue...but I'm happy about it!
Apparently, and yes, this is a Captain Obvious moment, getting going under your own power and making things happen for yourself agrees with not only the mental aspects of life, it also impacts the physical as well!
Forgive me as I jump up and down...but I got on the scale today...144 pounds...which totals 31 pounds that I've lost since my ex left, and it's 4 pounds gone over the last two months!
*Happy Dance*
Since everyone gripes about gaining weight during the holidays, how the heck did I manage to lose weight during the most food intensive time of the year? No clue...but I'm happy about it!
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