I was asked by the admins on Diabetic Rockstar to write a review and was encouraged to post it on my blogs. So, here it is...
I am Diabetic. I was left with little to no information on how to handle and treat my disease. First, I ate whatever I wanted. Then I ate a Low Carbohydrate diet. When none of these was really working for me, I consulted the internet. I subscribed to health blogs, I subscribed to Diabetes blogs. I found some of these helpful, and some not so helpful. Many of them catered to Type 1 – which I am not. The Type 2's that were written about were the people over 60, and I didn't fall into that category either. And then I went on insulin. I was led to believe that now that I was on insulin, I was a Type 1, but nothing that was written seemed to apply to me. I was very confused.
Enter an interview with Christopher Thomas on the Diabetes Mine blog by Amy Tenderich on October 1, 2008. Christopher was promoting and discussing his website, Diabetic Rockstar. It's basically a social networking site for people with Diabetes. Their motto is: Live Life Like a Rockstar. From my point of view, that was something that I could understand.
I immediately went to check it out. I signed up as soon as I looked around. No stranger to the other social networking sites, I took this one with a grain of salt at first. The more time I spent on there, the more I wanted to be in these people's lives. There is an incredible amount of support. People have made friends and have jokes between them. I have yet to see flaming or any kind of rudeness happen. The admins welcomed me within days via comments and made me feel right at home.
Since I joined, I have had the opportunity to really look around the site with much more detail. I am consistently amazed by how well it is run, and how kind and generous people are. There are forum boards, there are a few weekly chats, groups, the list just goes on and on. Every day is like finding something new. I have joined several forums, which have quite a variety of topics – from Pets, quitters, mom's, tattoos and even regional ones. It's a great place to ask for advice or even just to vent. I have seen comments relating to treatment in the workplace, things to talk to your doctor about, and just general support. There are people of all age groups, so you get a nice rounding out of experience. Just reading some of the responses and questions, I have learned much about my disease.
Another fantastic thing that is included on this site: fund raisers. And not just fund raisers, there are cruises, Guitar Hero competitions, tattoo designs, fake tattoos, stickers, clothes, the list is endless. I haven't been able to attend any of the fund raisers, but I am thinking of holding my own in the Portland, Oregon area. Within the last few months, Diabetic Rockstar became tax exempt for for operating as a full charity. The even have a listing for donations of diabetic supplies, where if you really can't afford your own for whatever reason, and you ask, you will be sent one by the management.
There is so much going on in this website, I can't possibly list it all, so I suggest that you check it out. I have recommended it to all my diabetic friends and family and they, too love it. I really commend Christopher on having such an incredible idea and making it come to life and it works! There is a very loyal following. Please, check out Diabetic Rockstar and have a great time meeting new people, learning new things and sharing your experience with us.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Hauntings
I know this is a bit late for Halloween, but I was thinking about it today (while reading ghost stories), and though I would post something I wrote a few years ago in my old apartment. Enjoy.
I
There is someone on my stairs. I understand this entity is male. I noticed him last September. Just kind of a shadow, some noises going up and down the stairs. When Tyler and I started dating, he came over a few times before he said anything. He asked me if I knew there was something on my stairs. I never said anything to anyone about it before that. We just pretty much notice occasionally, but never really say anything, except an occasional hello.
We hadn’t really noticed him much after my last roommate moved out in January. We thought maybe the ghost belonged with him or something. In August, my friend’s daughter, Katie, was taking care of my dog while I was at work during the day. She would come over and watch movies and hang out. One day, when I was giving her her payment, she asked me if I knew there was a man on the stairs. Now, I have never mentioned this to her or her mom.
I asked her if she was sure that it was a man. She knew. She hadn’t seen his face, but she knew. She said he was nice, and didn’t bother her. Since then, we have noticed the shadow back on the stairs. We have even noticed Mario playing with something on the stairs. We both seem to be pretty respectful of each other’s space. He keeps to him self on the stairs, and we keep to ourselves, as well. Mario seems to be the only one that entertains him.
II
When my dad died, I had not much in the way of ghostly experiences. They have always fascinated me, but I had to live vicariously through my friends stories. While my dad was dying, he had some interesting conversations with – well, we don’t really know. Sometimes, we could tell he was talking to his dead brother, sometimes we really couldn’t even tell what he was saying. One of my favorite conversations – from his side was when he was talking and suddenly said, “George, George, George… you bulbous bastard… George W. Bush.”
Anyway, after my dad died, some weird things started happening around the house. He did die in the house. And it would make sense for him to hang around, since he had lived there for almost 30 years.
The first thing that happened was when my grandparents came down to stay for the funeral. My parents had slept in separate rooms for several years because they both tended to snore and kept each other awake. My dad slept in the master bedroom, and my mom had moved into my old room. The master bedroom was the only room with a bed big enough to hold two people, so my grandparents stayed in there. The first night they were there, my grandparents turned off the lights around 11 and went to bed. About 2 in the morning, my grandma woke my grandpa and yelled at him for not turning off the light that was over the dresser. The light switch was at least ten feet away, by the bedroom door. My grandpa remembered turning it off. It was on, and shining brightly.
The next couple of days, a few other things happened. I don’t remember the exact order of everything, but I do remember what happened. We were all standing in the kitchen, which backed up to our large family room. The family room had one light in the corner by the kitchen. I happened to be facing into the family room, when I noticed three lights flash in the air over on the other side of the room. The family room is over 20 feet long, and it was in the back in the house, so there was no chance of it being a car going by.
My dad brewed his own beer. We had cases of it out in the garage. He hadn’t had any in months, and neither had anyone else. My grandpa had one bottle while he was visiting and threw the bottle in the trash. After he left, we found an empty bottle on one of our pantry shelves. It is still in my mom’s pantry.
As I have said before, my dad almost always wore red 49er shirts. He NEVER wore undershirts. My mom was doing laundry and found my dad’s undershirt that had been on the bottom of all of his clothes in the bottom drawer of his dresser, in the laundry basket. We have no idea how it got there.
My dad was a gardener, and he knew my favorite flower was gardenias. I had a skirt that had giant gardenias all over it. One day, I put on the skirt to wear to work. Suddenly, I smelled gardenias. Where there weren’t any. For the entire ride to work. And for about 2 hours at work, until I asked someone if they smelled it as well. No one else could smell it. It suddenly went away.
We had trouble at some point remember what my dad looked like when he was well. I think that sometimes my dad communicated to me through my dreams. I actually had a billboard in a dream that kept saying not to worry, that he loved me. Mom slowly had him show up in her dreams. First, as a floating head, then, slowly his body would start materializing.
The best and perhaps most “chilling” story happened to my mom when she got home from work one day. My mom promised my dad that she would retire from work once he died. She couldn’t do it quite yet. So she went back to work. My dad would always be waiting for my mom and call out to her, “Hi! How was your day?” Almost before she could even make it to the door.
So, she gets home a few weeks after he died and the phone is ringing as she walks in the door. She answered it to a lot of static, like a cell phone with bad reception. For some reason, she felt she should stay on the line. She said hello again, and heard “hi.” Then she heard amidst the static, “where have you been?” She told the phone that she had been at work. The phone didn’t say anything back for a while. Then it said, “I miss you.” She said it back. Then it said, “I love you.” She said it back. The phone faded to more static and then went dead.
She called me at work to ask if I had called. Nope. She tells this story better than me and gives everyone chills when she tells it.
The only other thing I can think of is when we were getting ready to move. We had a gate that locked from the inside and outside. The day before we moved, the “doorknob” fell out of the gate into my hand. The people that were moving into the house, were a woman and her kids after a bad divorce. She wanted to be able to keep her husband out and the gated opening was a good selling point. We were able to replace the doorknob before she moved in. She told us that she has felt a protective energy ever since she moved in.
We haven’t really had many “dad” experiences since moving, other than little dreams, and the hummingbird incident. But he is still always on our minds, and we hope he has moved on but is still watching over us.
III
About 10 years ago, a friend of mine passed from drowning. We hadn't spoken in a couple of years, but we had been really good friends for a while before that. A mutual friend of ours was in the Air Force, working on Air Force One. He lived just outside DC and a couple years later invited me to come and visit him. It was the first time since the death of our friend that we had seen each other. We were both really excited.
I flew out to see him, with my best friend – because he worked for the airlines, so I was able to get first class. He got back on the plane after he got me there. I met my friend a few minutes later. We went back to his town home and he introduced me to his girlfriend at the time. We stayed up and talked for hours that night. His girlfriend worked the graveyard shift and he worked early in the morning.
The next morning, I heard him leave for work. A few minutes later, I heard knocking on the wall next to the bed I was sleeping in. On the other side of the wall was an office-type room with only a couch and a computer in it. I thought my friend had maybe forgotten his keys and couldn't get back in. I moved toward the stairs and the knocking stopped. I went back to bed, and the knocking started again, this time right on the window of the room I was in – on the second floor.
When his girlfriend came home from work, I told her what happened. She said that similar reports have happened from other people when they have stayed there. There was no “real” explanation. They ended up telling me about some other weird stuff that had happened in their house – mostly in the kitchen, involving the lights.
The second night, I could have sworn that I heard our deceased friend talking to me, and being quite prominently in my dreams. I told my friend about this the next day, and he said that happens to him quite often.
When I went home, I felt like I had taken this entity with me for some reason. A few strange things happened at home. I would be sleeping and I would wake up to use the restroom in the night, and the bedroom door would just magically be closed when I got back. When I opened the door, the radio was on. Then I heard a voice say, “Hi, Jen. How ya doin'?” I am pretty sure that was the extent of it, but it was weird to me.
IV
My mom tells me this story: When I was a baby, she was pretty sure that we lived in a haunted house. I would be in my crib and she would hear me talking (baby talk) for about an hour before she got up. She swore that I was talking to someone. She would come home from work at midnight and my dad would leave for work at 4 am. After he would leave, she said the dog would start hiding under the bed and whining. Then the bed would start to move across the room. Not far, but it moved enough to freak her out.
We all have weird experiences, but who knows what they really are? Electro-magnetic impulses? Dead people in limbo? I don't think anyone knows for sure, but it sure makes for interesting conversation.
I
There is someone on my stairs. I understand this entity is male. I noticed him last September. Just kind of a shadow, some noises going up and down the stairs. When Tyler and I started dating, he came over a few times before he said anything. He asked me if I knew there was something on my stairs. I never said anything to anyone about it before that. We just pretty much notice occasionally, but never really say anything, except an occasional hello.
We hadn’t really noticed him much after my last roommate moved out in January. We thought maybe the ghost belonged with him or something. In August, my friend’s daughter, Katie, was taking care of my dog while I was at work during the day. She would come over and watch movies and hang out. One day, when I was giving her her payment, she asked me if I knew there was a man on the stairs. Now, I have never mentioned this to her or her mom.
I asked her if she was sure that it was a man. She knew. She hadn’t seen his face, but she knew. She said he was nice, and didn’t bother her. Since then, we have noticed the shadow back on the stairs. We have even noticed Mario playing with something on the stairs. We both seem to be pretty respectful of each other’s space. He keeps to him self on the stairs, and we keep to ourselves, as well. Mario seems to be the only one that entertains him.
II
When my dad died, I had not much in the way of ghostly experiences. They have always fascinated me, but I had to live vicariously through my friends stories. While my dad was dying, he had some interesting conversations with – well, we don’t really know. Sometimes, we could tell he was talking to his dead brother, sometimes we really couldn’t even tell what he was saying. One of my favorite conversations – from his side was when he was talking and suddenly said, “George, George, George… you bulbous bastard… George W. Bush.”
Anyway, after my dad died, some weird things started happening around the house. He did die in the house. And it would make sense for him to hang around, since he had lived there for almost 30 years.
The first thing that happened was when my grandparents came down to stay for the funeral. My parents had slept in separate rooms for several years because they both tended to snore and kept each other awake. My dad slept in the master bedroom, and my mom had moved into my old room. The master bedroom was the only room with a bed big enough to hold two people, so my grandparents stayed in there. The first night they were there, my grandparents turned off the lights around 11 and went to bed. About 2 in the morning, my grandma woke my grandpa and yelled at him for not turning off the light that was over the dresser. The light switch was at least ten feet away, by the bedroom door. My grandpa remembered turning it off. It was on, and shining brightly.
The next couple of days, a few other things happened. I don’t remember the exact order of everything, but I do remember what happened. We were all standing in the kitchen, which backed up to our large family room. The family room had one light in the corner by the kitchen. I happened to be facing into the family room, when I noticed three lights flash in the air over on the other side of the room. The family room is over 20 feet long, and it was in the back in the house, so there was no chance of it being a car going by.
My dad brewed his own beer. We had cases of it out in the garage. He hadn’t had any in months, and neither had anyone else. My grandpa had one bottle while he was visiting and threw the bottle in the trash. After he left, we found an empty bottle on one of our pantry shelves. It is still in my mom’s pantry.
As I have said before, my dad almost always wore red 49er shirts. He NEVER wore undershirts. My mom was doing laundry and found my dad’s undershirt that had been on the bottom of all of his clothes in the bottom drawer of his dresser, in the laundry basket. We have no idea how it got there.
My dad was a gardener, and he knew my favorite flower was gardenias. I had a skirt that had giant gardenias all over it. One day, I put on the skirt to wear to work. Suddenly, I smelled gardenias. Where there weren’t any. For the entire ride to work. And for about 2 hours at work, until I asked someone if they smelled it as well. No one else could smell it. It suddenly went away.
We had trouble at some point remember what my dad looked like when he was well. I think that sometimes my dad communicated to me through my dreams. I actually had a billboard in a dream that kept saying not to worry, that he loved me. Mom slowly had him show up in her dreams. First, as a floating head, then, slowly his body would start materializing.
The best and perhaps most “chilling” story happened to my mom when she got home from work one day. My mom promised my dad that she would retire from work once he died. She couldn’t do it quite yet. So she went back to work. My dad would always be waiting for my mom and call out to her, “Hi! How was your day?” Almost before she could even make it to the door.
So, she gets home a few weeks after he died and the phone is ringing as she walks in the door. She answered it to a lot of static, like a cell phone with bad reception. For some reason, she felt she should stay on the line. She said hello again, and heard “hi.” Then she heard amidst the static, “where have you been?” She told the phone that she had been at work. The phone didn’t say anything back for a while. Then it said, “I miss you.” She said it back. Then it said, “I love you.” She said it back. The phone faded to more static and then went dead.
She called me at work to ask if I had called. Nope. She tells this story better than me and gives everyone chills when she tells it.
The only other thing I can think of is when we were getting ready to move. We had a gate that locked from the inside and outside. The day before we moved, the “doorknob” fell out of the gate into my hand. The people that were moving into the house, were a woman and her kids after a bad divorce. She wanted to be able to keep her husband out and the gated opening was a good selling point. We were able to replace the doorknob before she moved in. She told us that she has felt a protective energy ever since she moved in.
We haven’t really had many “dad” experiences since moving, other than little dreams, and the hummingbird incident. But he is still always on our minds, and we hope he has moved on but is still watching over us.
III
About 10 years ago, a friend of mine passed from drowning. We hadn't spoken in a couple of years, but we had been really good friends for a while before that. A mutual friend of ours was in the Air Force, working on Air Force One. He lived just outside DC and a couple years later invited me to come and visit him. It was the first time since the death of our friend that we had seen each other. We were both really excited.
I flew out to see him, with my best friend – because he worked for the airlines, so I was able to get first class. He got back on the plane after he got me there. I met my friend a few minutes later. We went back to his town home and he introduced me to his girlfriend at the time. We stayed up and talked for hours that night. His girlfriend worked the graveyard shift and he worked early in the morning.
The next morning, I heard him leave for work. A few minutes later, I heard knocking on the wall next to the bed I was sleeping in. On the other side of the wall was an office-type room with only a couch and a computer in it. I thought my friend had maybe forgotten his keys and couldn't get back in. I moved toward the stairs and the knocking stopped. I went back to bed, and the knocking started again, this time right on the window of the room I was in – on the second floor.
When his girlfriend came home from work, I told her what happened. She said that similar reports have happened from other people when they have stayed there. There was no “real” explanation. They ended up telling me about some other weird stuff that had happened in their house – mostly in the kitchen, involving the lights.
The second night, I could have sworn that I heard our deceased friend talking to me, and being quite prominently in my dreams. I told my friend about this the next day, and he said that happens to him quite often.
When I went home, I felt like I had taken this entity with me for some reason. A few strange things happened at home. I would be sleeping and I would wake up to use the restroom in the night, and the bedroom door would just magically be closed when I got back. When I opened the door, the radio was on. Then I heard a voice say, “Hi, Jen. How ya doin'?” I am pretty sure that was the extent of it, but it was weird to me.
IV
My mom tells me this story: When I was a baby, she was pretty sure that we lived in a haunted house. I would be in my crib and she would hear me talking (baby talk) for about an hour before she got up. She swore that I was talking to someone. She would come home from work at midnight and my dad would leave for work at 4 am. After he would leave, she said the dog would start hiding under the bed and whining. Then the bed would start to move across the room. Not far, but it moved enough to freak her out.
We all have weird experiences, but who knows what they really are? Electro-magnetic impulses? Dead people in limbo? I don't think anyone knows for sure, but it sure makes for interesting conversation.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
44 Things
Learn 44 things about your friends, and let them learn
44 things about you! I tag anyone who is reading this to post it on their blog!
44 things about you! I tag anyone who is reading this to post it on their blog!
1. Do you like blue cheese? I LOVE Bleu Cheese especially with bacon
2. Have you ever smoked? Unfortunately yes.
3. Do you own a gun? No, and I'm pretty sure that I don't ever want to.
4. What flavor Kool-Aid was your favorite? Cherry or fruit punch
5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Yes, yes I do. But then, you would, too.
6. Do you eat hot dogs?Very very rarely.
7. Favorite Christmas movie? Elf, Bad Santa and A Christmas Story
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Coffee, tea or the occasional Diet Coke.
9. Can you do push ups? I haven't tried lately, so, probably not.
10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? My engagement and wedding rings.
11. Favorite hobby? I'm still working on making more hobbies, so I am not sure yet.
12. Do you have A.D.D.? Quite possibly. At least I know that I have a really short attention span.
13. What's one trait you hate about yourself? The overall health of my body.
14. Middle name? Lisa
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? I want to finish my phone work right now, I want to get started on that hutch, and I have to clean the kitchen – something smells bad in there.
16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Crystal Light, Diet Coke and Coffee
17. Current worry? Getting a job and my fertility.
18. Current hate right now? My ovum
19. Favorite place to be? In my husband's arms or having a warm cuddle with my puppy.
20. How did you bring in the New Year? By sleeping.
21. Where would you like to go? Somewhere, anywhere. I'd love to visit friends old and new, and different countries.
23. Do you own slippers? Yes, but where they are, I haven't a clue.
24. What color shirt are you wearing right now? Black
Where is 25?
26. Can you whistle? Yes, yes I can.
27. Favorite color? Pink and Purple
28. Would you be a pirate? Oh hell, yeah! If for nothing else, but the costumes!
29. What songs do you sing in the shower?Usually Blister in the Sun. I have no idea why.
30. Favorite girl's name? Natalie Trianna
31. Favorite boy's name? Randy Thundercleese
32. What's in your pocket right now? Some change, some dollar bills and a doggie poop bag.
33. Last thing that made you laugh? My dog.
34. Best bed sheets as a child? Blue and red stripes and Bambi. I think I had some Bugs Bunny, too.
35. Worst injury you've ever had? Let's not go there.
36. Do you love where you live? Until yesterday, when Tyler's bike got stolen.
37. How many TVs do you have in your house? 4
38. Who is your loudest friend? Ha ha ha! ME!
39. How many dogs do you have? Just my baby, Mario.
40. Does someone have a crush on you? I hope my husband does.
41. What is your favorite book? Really, you want me to narrow it down? 5 bookshelves - you do the math.
42. What is your favorite candy?Just about anything – come on, I'm a diabetic!
43. Favorite Sports Team?49ers, Lakers. I draw the line there.
44. What song do you want played at your funeral? Ooooh, Terry, that was a good idea – a roast! There are so many songs that I would want to use – but I trust in someone to be a good DJ and play the music that I like. Shit, I did the ones in my family.
Monday, November 10, 2008
My Friends
I wrote this originally for my Myspace blog, after some heated debate and un-friending happened between all people that I know. No one unfriended me, but there were some pretty heated words written. I needed them all to know how I felt about our friendships and our lives. Here is what I wrote:
Yep, I stole that from McCain - the line that I liked least that he used... even more than "But I was a POW!"
Anyway, I realize that many of us don't have the exact same beliefs, we don't have the same political party or religion.
I believe very much what I believe. I hope that you don't think that I have been shoving it down your throat. All I wanted was to encourage everyone to vote. I made it clear who I was voting for, but I tried not to get in anyone's face to try to change their minds. I hope that I succeeded in that.
I am very very happy that Obama won. I again have hope for the world, and for my life. I understand, to a degree, why the republicans and independents would be upset and saddened that their candidate didn't win. But the amount of back tracking and shit pulling that I have been seeing is killing me. Sometimes, even though I am pretty sure none of the outbursts are directed at me, I take them personally. I voted what I thought best for me and my country. Anyone who knows me knows how I was raised. You already know what I think. You know how I feel. Please stop telling me what an idiot I am or my candidate and the future president is. It hurts me to think that my "friends" would think that about me, and continue to pretend to be my friend.
If you are on my friend's list, there is a reason: I consider you my friend. And there is a reason for that. Whether it be because I love to talk to you about anything, I like your taste in music, I worked with you and we had a good time. Or because we both like to play Guitar Hero. Chances are, it has nothing to do with politics or religion. If you ever tried to push your religion on me, you probably didn't stay my friend for long. If you tried to argue your politics with me and got so angry with me that you couldn't speak and could not just sit and listen to my views and try to understand them, and maybe explained why you felt the way that you felt; maybe you are still my friend. I will not stand for racism, bigotry, or terrorism amongst my friends.
I hope you understand why you are my friends, and respect that fact. There is a huge difference between teasing me about what I believe and telling me how stupid I am while the spit is flying out of your mouth and you face turns red. We can just agree to disagree. If you no longer want to be friends with me because of my beliefs, let me know - un-friend me, whatever. But let me know why first. I'd like to know who to not contact ever again. And grow up.
Please respect my feelings and I will respect yours. I will tease you good naturedly about your politics, but I will never NEVER tell you that you are so wrong that I can't stand to be around you.
Thank you.
Yep, I stole that from McCain - the line that I liked least that he used... even more than "But I was a POW!"
Anyway, I realize that many of us don't have the exact same beliefs, we don't have the same political party or religion.
I believe very much what I believe. I hope that you don't think that I have been shoving it down your throat. All I wanted was to encourage everyone to vote. I made it clear who I was voting for, but I tried not to get in anyone's face to try to change their minds. I hope that I succeeded in that.
I am very very happy that Obama won. I again have hope for the world, and for my life. I understand, to a degree, why the republicans and independents would be upset and saddened that their candidate didn't win. But the amount of back tracking and shit pulling that I have been seeing is killing me. Sometimes, even though I am pretty sure none of the outbursts are directed at me, I take them personally. I voted what I thought best for me and my country. Anyone who knows me knows how I was raised. You already know what I think. You know how I feel. Please stop telling me what an idiot I am or my candidate and the future president is. It hurts me to think that my "friends" would think that about me, and continue to pretend to be my friend.
If you are on my friend's list, there is a reason: I consider you my friend. And there is a reason for that. Whether it be because I love to talk to you about anything, I like your taste in music, I worked with you and we had a good time. Or because we both like to play Guitar Hero. Chances are, it has nothing to do with politics or religion. If you ever tried to push your religion on me, you probably didn't stay my friend for long. If you tried to argue your politics with me and got so angry with me that you couldn't speak and could not just sit and listen to my views and try to understand them, and maybe explained why you felt the way that you felt; maybe you are still my friend. I will not stand for racism, bigotry, or terrorism amongst my friends.
I hope you understand why you are my friends, and respect that fact. There is a huge difference between teasing me about what I believe and telling me how stupid I am while the spit is flying out of your mouth and you face turns red. We can just agree to disagree. If you no longer want to be friends with me because of my beliefs, let me know - un-friend me, whatever. But let me know why first. I'd like to know who to not contact ever again. And grow up.
Please respect my feelings and I will respect yours. I will tease you good naturedly about your politics, but I will never NEVER tell you that you are so wrong that I can't stand to be around you.
Thank you.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day! Did YOU vote?
The first time I voted in a presidential election. Nice pants.
Today is voting day. I voted. Did you?
I actually voted last week, since Oregon is a mail-in ballot only. I'm sure by the rest of this post, you can guess who I voted for.
Politics has always been a big thing in my family. Since I have gotten married, I have noticed things haven't changed much, just the people that are interested. I was raised to be a free thinker, choose my religion when I was ready, choose how I felt about politics and vote accordingly. As long as I voted. Never let my voice be unheard. My father paid very close attention to all politics. He was very emotional about how he felt, and never let anyone forget it. He was a die-hard liberal democrat, and even being in a conservative Southern California, let his voice always be heard. He changed several of my impressionable friends from republican to democrat. Some of them fight the good fight for it, too.
I remember sitting in the kitchen with my parents, going over the ballots and figuring out what to vote on all measures, candidates and anything else that might come up. We would have explanatory discussions, usually my dad would be the explainer, and then we would hash out our views. Only one time do I remember understanding a description of a measure better than my dad and explaining it to him. I was so proud. I believe I changed his original vote on it as well.
My first major election that I was able to participate in was the 1992 presidential election. I voted for Bill Clinton. I felt it was my first real contribution to “society.” I didn't register for the draft and I hadn't been called in to jury duty yet. My parents were so excited about it, that they waited for me to get off of work so we could all go together. My mom even took a picture. I was a bit embarrassed, still being in the teenage mode of being embarrassed by attention drawn to me by my parents. We went to Hawaii around the time when Clinton was to take office. I was glued to MTV for the inauguration ceremony. I was so excited about the difference that I possibly made. I was so excited about the future.
The second election (1996), I was not as enthusiastic. I was very torn between Clinton and Perot. I thought surely someone who could make and keep the amount of money that Perot had, certainly should be good for the country. But I also liked where the country was going under Clinton's rule. In the end, I voted Perot. We all know how that turned out. At that time, I was dating someone who was raised by a very conservative family, so therefore, he was also extremely conservative as well. We argued constantly about politics and the “evils” of Clinton. I was forced to keep my opinions to myself, if for no other reasons than keeping the peace.
In 2000, I voted for Al Gore. I really liked him, he reminded me of my dad. It was easy to identify with him. My entire family, as well as many of my friends were so disappointed and angry at the atrocities that happened in Florida. I may have mentioned this before, but when my father was dying he talked in his sleep a lot. One day, I was sitting on the couch by his bed and my mom was in the kitchen. Suddenly, my dad started talking. “George, George, George.... You bulbous bastard... George W. Bush.” It was so indicative of how he felt about politics his whole life. I believe he spoke for my entire family. Even though it was sad, we couldn't help but laugh. He passed less than a month later. And I believe that his words still ring true.
In 2004, I voted for Kerry. I believed he was the lesser of two evils. I wasn't that fond of him and his flip flopping, but he was supposedly standing for the things that I believed should remain my rights as a woman and a citizen. At this point, I was very concerned about keeping my healthcare affordable. I got in several arguments with some friends of mine, and they always managed to make me feel stupid, even though my opinions were valid to me. Unfortunately, Kerry lost. And the rest is now history.
This year, is a historic year. Not only do we have an African-American that won the Democratic nomination – with an extremely good chance at becoming our next president, but we also have a woman in the VP slot. While Geraldine Ferraro was the first woman (I believe) to be put in this position, Sarah Palin could very realistically be the first woman in the white house (as VP) and by default if something were to happen to McCain, she would become president. As wonderful as I think that the world has finally moved into doing something this big and accepting, I feel like I have to protect my rights from another woman. That frightens me. I think John McCain has a good sense of humor. But that's as much as I can like about him. I do not like his ideals, or his beliefs. I don't think they would be good, overall, for this country and it's inhabitants. I find Barack Obama to be a powerful being; in speaking, in inspiration, in ideals and beliefs. He inspires me, he makes me have hope again for my future and the future of the world... not just the country, but the world. I am terrified of what would happen if McCain were elected. I do think I have a bit of a crush on Obama. And that's ok. It's good to look up to someone who made it this far and may even be president.
I am excited about the election results. You can bet that I will probably be glued to the TV most of the evening. My husband and I discussed all the measures and candidates, just like I used to do with my parents. We agreed on everything. My parents were both registered democrat. When they would go to vote, people would laugh and ask them how boring their life was – they had nothing to argue about. I guess I have the same thing to look forward to. We are both bleeding heart, tree hugging hippie liberals and very proud of it.
While I do care who you vote for, I mostly care that you vote. Please – make your voice be heard.
Even if it IS for McCain.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Near Death Experiences
My mom wonders how I am still alive after all these years. With all of the things I have been through, it is kind of a wonder.
When I was little, I almost drowned at least twice. One time, I fell in to the pond in our back yard. I thought my dog went in and rescued me, but mom told me he was afraid of water, so I don’t quite remember how I got out of there. When I was even younger, I fell into a pool in the back yard of some of my parent’s friends. The oldest of the kids there (who was barely older than me) could not get the drunken parents to pay attention to me, so he went in and rescued me. (Turns out there IS a reason that I don’t like water that I can’t see the bottom of – it was a black bottom pool).
Right before I started first grade, there was a big hole by my house. It was close to ravine size to a kid of my age and size. They were building a park, and did not have this fenced off. It had been raining, in classic California style, rained for a couple of days and pretty much filled this giant gaping hole. A friend and I were playing near there (this was a halfway point between our houses – she lived across the street, and I was a house away). I fell in. I did not know how to swim (I certainly learned soon!!!) – and just went down. It was probably about 4 feet deep, but I was pretty little – around 5. I was fished out by my soon to be crossing guard (she was the nicest lady) and taken home. I told my mom that I “whimmed like a fish,” as I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. My mom put me in the bathtub, to get the stench off of me, warm me up and wash the filthy water out of my braids.
My mom told me of a story, I can’t remember the exact details – but she ran out of gas or the car stalled (it was an old VW bug), and she forgot the parking brake. The car started going down a hill, with me still in it (I was just a baby). By the time she got to the car, I was screaming. In happiness. I wanted to do it again.
Until I was in probably 6th grade, my mom worked the evening shift at work. 4-midnight. Dad worked in the morning. So, at night, dad was in charge. At that point, there were a lot of parties that dad took me to. I think partly because it gave him so much attention with the ladies, and partly so he wouldn’t have to get a babysitter. Well, I can’t tell you how many times he drove me home drunk. I remember going on a freeway onramp and being only on two wheels. Running over things, crashing into them. Luckily, I wasn’t with him when he finally crashed into the light pole in our neighborhood and totaled his car. Somehow, he ended up driving the car into the garage, and going to bed. He did finally get caught and got thrown in jail for a night with a DUI. So, at least he stopped drunk driving. Stoned driving is a completely different story.
Not a lot happened in the following years that I remember. Until I was in my 20’s. I wasn’t in any car accidents that could have been really fatal. I was never on any rides at Disneyland that I would have been thrown from. I was never in a plane that almost went down. I didn’t have any major illnesses. Once I was in my 20’s, though… I had a couple of accidents and a couple major illnesses…
My accidents – the first one was in the Renault Encore – my second car. I was driving to work at Target, and I pulled in to the parking lot – well the employee parking was on the right side, so I always went in with the right lane. Well, today, a guy in a big truck (one of those big ones from the 70’s) with a camper shell on it decided to make a right turn from the left lane – without signaling. Right into the drivers side door. He tried to blame me and say that I was going too fast. I went in the building (after crawling out of my car from the passenger door), told the manager what happened – the manager sent out the cart attendants to go get the guy’s license plate numbers, etc. and they proceeded to protect me the rest of the day. Turned out the guy didn’t have insurance, so he wanted to settle it out of court. I was refused repair because the car was considered totaled.
Ok, the second one was in my ’74 Bug. I was having a particularly bad night at work at Disneyland, and happened to make the comment to a co-worker that I would probably get in a car accident on the way home that night (I learned my lesson that night). It had been raining. And if anyone knows the brake life on the old bugs, they know that even in the best of situations, you cannot slam on brakes in those cars. Well, when I was driving home from work, a semi (at the time, it was a Lucky Grocery store truck) decided to make a lane change 1. in the middle of an intersection, 2. Without signaling and 3. Without looking. To avoid hitting him and becoming a smooshed Pepsi can, I swerved into the next lane. I hit the small Mazda truck next to me. Filled with a Hispanic family. Since it was late at night, I did not know it was a family. I was in a prime gang area. And that was exactly what I thought was pouring out of the truck. Until the grandma got out. I started bawling. She put her arms around me and told the man (her son, I assume), that I was scared and to take it easy on me (yes, en español).
I narrowly avoided several accidents. On the freeways of southern California, I would be nearby when cars would hit the center divider and cement pieces (large ones) would spray everywhere, but none would even come near my car. I had some minor things happen, hitting poles that were too low to see out of my rear view mirror, backing into curbs that were too high. That kind of thing. It wasn’t until I had my Saturn that I had the really bad accidents. I had not even had the car for a year when a kid that had probably just gotten his license pulled out in front of me. I was driving south on Beach Blvd. In Huntington Beach – also known as highway 39. The speed limit was 50. Which is what I was going. He made a left turn out of the McDonalds that clearly said (I think there are at least 4 signs) No Left Turn or Right Turn Only. I luckily had 3 witnesses. I slammed into that boy. He wanted to settle out of insurance. He was afraid that his insurance would get canceled. He took too long to get back to me. As soon as my car was done getting fixed, we had to move.
I wasn’t in another accident until the rear-end by the semi a couple of years ago. If he had been going any faster, I may have been killed. Not to mention Tyler and Mario. ‘Course, Mario was the only one of us that didn’t have a seat belt on, so who knows….
Then there are the weird ones… I had a knife pulled on me in Garden Grove, CA when I was driving home from Work in Disneyland. I saw this new truck that looked really cool. It was bright yellow, which I had really liked. I was taking a look at it when I was stopped at a light. The girl driving obviously took offense to this, and climbed out of the truck and came toward my car with a knife flashing in her hand. She came to my window and asked if I had a problem. I told her that I really liked her truck. As she came closer to me, the light turned and I took off.
We were on the 10 fwy in the Pomona area when we accidentally cut some guy off (ok, it wasn’t accidentally, but I needed to get off on that exit and the guy wouldn’t let me over). Well, my dad thought it was funny, and smiled and waved at him. The guy pulled out a gun and started waving it at us. Luckily, we made it off the off ramp before he started shooting.
I was somewhat physically abused by a roommate that I had in 1993. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was a tweaker. He smacked me around. He chased me around with a giant knife. He slashed my things when he couldn’t get into my room. The final straw was when he smashed a beer bottle over my head. I didn’t find out until years later that he was on speed.
Probably the last one I have to mention that is probably the most surprising that didn’t take my life and probably should have – you guys all know it – Cancer. And all the things that went along with it… The chemo almost killed me – especially the wrong one. The staph infection should have killed me. Instead it gave me a Myocardial Infarction (heart attack) that should have killed me. The stem cell transplant and all the procedures that went along with it could have killed me. But somehow, and with a positive attitude, I did not die.
Never thought I would make it to my 25th birthday, much less my 35th. I didn’t mention all the depression; all the times I have attempted suicide. Those are just SOME things why I thought I wouldn’t make it to my 25th. My mom thinks that there is a reason I am here – I have some sort of purpose to fulfill before I am allowed to die. Maybe this is true. Maybe I just have to find fulfillment in my life and be happy with who I am and who I can be before I am allowed to die. Maybe I have to produce offspring. Maybe I have to make a fortune. Maybe I just have to make someone else happy and fulfill a promise that I made in a former life. I don’t know.
All I know is that I am another year older, and even though I probably SHOULD be dead at this point – I’m not. I lived to tell the tale, and I am happy so far. Hmmmm… weird…
Monday, September 29, 2008
Things I Love About My Husband
Today is our one year wedding anniversary. I am still as happy as I was the day we got married. I love my husband with all my heart and every day, I love him even more. He is a really fun person and a loving friend. I have been working on this list off and on since early 2006. This is a list of things I love about my husband. I probably could continue on it, but some of it IS private. Now we get to eat cake. Hee hee. I hope it's still good.
He puts up with my moods.
He is always supportive.
He gets excited about the same things as me.
He watches all the seasons of Friends with me.
Wi-Fi, baby.
He wakes me up with tales of Saved By The Bell.
He loves and helps take care of Mario.
He cooks me yummy food.
He helps me clean.
He lets me pick the music.
He brought my plants back to life.
He respects me.
He respects my beliefs.
He thinks I look cute in everything.
He likes to read.
He rubs my feet.
He picks out my shirts for me.
We have fun taking showers together.
He is beautiful.
He looks so sweet when he sleeps.
He offers to sleep on the couch when he snores.
He tells me he loves me in his sleep.
He loves my cooking.
He loves me.
We like each other’s friends.
He always encourages me.
He’s a fun car pool buddy.
He gets me.
He is the sweetest guy I have ever met.
He rubs my back when it hurts.
He trusts me.
He is my rock star.
He believes in me.
He sends me the sweetest text messages.
He tells me he loves me all the time.
He is my angel.
He has the greatest butt.
He is brilliant.
He has the greatest hands.
He is the best cuddler.
I love him.
He makes me laugh.
He thinks I am beautiful with or without make-up.
He has the best kisses.
I love to stare at him.
He has the cutest dimples.
He always washes my back.
He has a beautiful soul.
He’s funny.
He has the most beautiful laugh.
He has the most beautiful smile.
He lets me vent to him.
He makes me calm when I get mad.
He is so much fun to plan things with.
He gets up two hours earlier to ride to work with me.
He talks to me when he is upset.
He respects my feelings and beliefs.
He listens.
He makes me happy.
He takes breaks with me.
He found my desk.
He lets me use his CD player at work.
He makes me cool CD’s.
He’s fun to share stories with.
He has great stories to tell.
My family loves him.
My friends love him.
He takes care of me when I am sick.
He encourages me.
He is an amazing artist.
He won’t do stuff if I ask him not to.
He is getting his license for me.
He’s moving in with me.
He shares his stuff with me.
I am comfortable with him.
He sends me fun stuff to do on the Internet when I am bored at work.
He helps me make decisions.
He is my man.
He is Pwnd.
I love to show him off.
He hates people because they are mean to me.
He gets embarrassed when I tell him why I love him.
He is so damn cute!
He has the softest skin ever.
Every night, he massages my leg so I can sleep.
He makes me coffee every morning.
He finds me for break time.
He likes to have lunch with me.
He sits on the floor, so I can have the whole couch.
He likes to hold my hand.
He’s really funny.
He doesn’t care if I am a slob.
He likes the fact that I fart and burp.
He thinks I am pretty naked.
He makes me smile until I feel like my mouth will fall off.
He appreciates me.
He lets me listen to the Beatles on Sunday (and Monday and Tuesday).
He’s so much fun to talk to.
It gets better every time.
He lets me use the good chair at the desk.
He rescues me when I fall.
He doesn’t notice when other girls flirt with him.
He says he’ll beat up any guy that flirts with me.
He loves my mom.
He is taking me to meet his family.
I love to make him smile and laugh.
I love to take care of him.
He loves to take care of me.
He makes sure I take my medication and vitamins.
He cuddles with me in his sleep.
He writes me sweet poetry.
He watches my movies.
He’ll change the music if I don’t like it.
He tries to find things that will interest me.
He knows how much I love him and doesn’t take advantage of it.
He tells me I am awesome.
He really listens to me.
He’s always willing to try something new.
He tucks me in at night.
He loves Mario as much as I do.
He's going to marry me.
He changed his sleeping schedule dramatically to match mine.
He let me take care of him when he was sick.
He is patient with me.
He won't let me say “I'm sorry.”
He agrees with me.
He goes for walks with me.
He's trying to help me be healthy.
He is an amazing chef.
He reminds me to take my meds.
He is excited about getting married.
He cares so much about his friends.
He won't tell me the ends of stories so I can read them myself and be surprised.
He loves Harry Potter.
He is not afraid to show emotion.
He married me.
He found a new job for me.
He was supportive when I got laid off.
He loves to listen to me sing.
He runs his fingers through my hair when I am playing on the computer.
His family thinks I am good for him.
Even though he hates it, he went to all those doctor appointments with me.
He took time off to go to the oncologist with me.
He brags about me at work.
He loves to spend his days off with me.
He will suffer through grocery shopping to be with me.
When I am stressed out, he does everything he can to calm me down. Even if it's just letting me be frenzied.
He always compliments any kind of work I do.
He drives when I get my eyes dilated.
He let me pick our medical insurance.
He loves what I have done to our new apartment.
He is a huge help when I ask.
He is my tall man.
He is working just as hard as I am at being “green”
He reads books that I like.
Being married is just as fun as the prospect.
We are working really hard together to be able to have a baby.
He told the doctor the truth.
He does weird things that make me laugh.
We hardly ever fight.
He lets me pick out his products.
He lets me buy purses and shoes.
I love being married to him.
He thinks I am creative.
He is just as excited about our future as I am.
He can't wait to have a kid and a house.
We both love and are inspired by Obama
He calls me on his breaks and spends his lunches with me.
He thinks I make the best sandwiches.
He likes my taste.
He inspires me!
We have actually made it through one year of being married. It's awesome!
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