Friday, October 31, 2003
Today's edition of The Friday Five is all about Halloween:
1. What was your first Halloween costume?
I am going to have to ask my mother... The first one I remember was a home made Peter Pan. I wore my Dad's lime green Lake George sweatshirt, turned fleece side out, which came down to my knees, to which mom added brown paper bag fringe. She made me a green felt hat and elf shoes, and and I wore green tights and carried a toy sword.
2. What was your best costume and why?
Absolutely my sophomore year of high school home made (but with store bought collector's helmet) Darth Vader. Mom got the perfect vertically lined quilted black material for the suit, and I had a heavy black velvet cloak, and cardboard boxes for chest and belt plates. Knee high black boots. No one knew I was a girl. I got pelted with sneakers in the girls locker room, and chased out. But the best thing about that costume is, it was the reason I met my high school sweetheart, who I eventually married. Dear Hubby couldn't resist pointing out flaws in the costume, LOL. He's an extreme detail modeling freak.
3. Did you ever play a trick on someone who didn't give you a treat?
Nope. Too well behaved. I reserved my tricks for my little brother, who I tormented regularly (and vice versa). I used to put gross things in his shoes, like grapes and jello and peanut butter. And I enjoyed gluing his clean underwear shut.
4. Do you have any Halloween traditions? (ie: Family pumpkin carving, special dinner before trick or treating, etc.)
When I was a kid, my mom always took us trick or treating in the early evening. Then we went home for hot chocolate and orange frosted cupcakes, eaten by the glow of a jack o lantern, while mom played really spooky halloween records (yes, the vinyl kind. My age is showing, LOL).
My son is only six months old, but we will dress him as a tiger, carve a pumpkin, and take him to the homes of a few neighbors with kids who we know and trust. After that, we'll have hot chocolate and eat his candy...
5. Share your favorite scary story...real or legend!
The weirdest thing that ever happened to me was a sort of spooky precognition thing, where I got a flash of me and my frineds getting hit by a car. We almost did get hit by the car I "saw" later that night, but I saw it and yelled, and we jumped away in time to avoid becoming another drunk driving statistic. Not really a ghosty thing, but spooky. Only other spooky weird thing was ball lightning coming into our childhood home one stormy night. I thought it was a ghost.
Thursday, October 30, 2003
GOK is sorta my patron saint of creativity. I have photos of her in my studio, and did a portrait of her in clay, which sits on my mantel. (There's also a tribute in clay to Salvador Dali on said mantel...)
Fantastic!! You are GEORGIA O'KEEFE.
You are a true spirit of nature, and it shows in
the flowing floral paintings for which you are
most famous. You feel the beauty of all things
around you, and your friends appreciate you for
your ability to share that extraordinary beauty
Which famous artist most reflects your personality?
brought to you by Quizilla
Of course, there was a boy attached to a boobie when they arrived. So I scramble to get my clothes in order, feeling like a teenager who got caught doing something naughty, and run out to meet them, frustrated infant tucked under one arm like a howling little football.
All the items we ordered are there.
Not until after they pull out do I discover that the damn vanity they delivered is the WRONG color, and does not match my ugly bathroom AT ALL.
So now we either persuade them to make the swap (without dinking us foranother 60 bucks for delivery) , or I am stuck with yet another unmatching fixture in a bathroom that looks like someone hurled... we have a hodgepodge of pink, caramel, white, black and oak. Eeeewwww.
The sickest thing is, this is not an isolated incidence of horrific taste.
Every home on the block has a similar mishmash in the toilette.
What drugs were the local plumbers on in the 40s and 50s???
So, now I have one snarky little kidlet on my hands, and another freaking complication to deal with.
and updated to include the 25, 20 and 15 year periods. Guess I stole this from one of my younger blog buddies, because theirs didn't go back that far...
Twenty Five Years Ago
-I was 12 years old.
-I was in junior high (7th grade?), and two years away from meeting Kevin, my high school sweetheart.
-I dreamed of becoming a veterinarian.
-I rode horses and painted in oils.
-I read Tolkein's Lord of the Rings and became a life long science fiction and fantasy buff.
Twenty Years Ago
-I was 17 years old.
-I was a college sophomore, majoring in economics and minoring in political science and English.
-Kevin and I had broken up.
-I let my college advisor talk me out of my dreams and into a pale imitation-- premed. I was miserable. I had no earthly idea what I really wanted to do when I grew up, but I knew organic chemistry was the death of my ambitions towards medical school. I did not want it badly enough to work that hard.
-I lived at home because my grades freshman year were so abyssmal, my parents insisted.
Fifteen Years Ago
-I was 22 years old.
-I was in my second year of law school, at the top of my class, loving every minute of it, because finally I found what my weird brain seemed wired to do. Legal analysis was like the most satisfying crossword puzzle ever. I wrote my way onto Law Review.
-Kevin and I were still broken up, but we talked occasionally by phone.
-I was writing poetry and the great american science fiction novel (never finished).
-I was still mourning the death of my first ever childhood dogdog, who was an early fifth birthday present, and died right after I graduated from college. She was my best friend growing up. (I still miss her.)
Ten Years Ago
-I was 27 years old.
-I was a commercial litigation associate in NYC, making nearly a six figure salary.
-Kevin and I had been married two years.
-We were not planning on having kids until after I made partner.
-Everything changed when I was in an accident on the job that I should feel lucky to have survived, which left me permanently disabled.
Seven Years Ago
-I was 30 years old.
-I was in chronic pain, and not sleeping because of nightmares about my accident.
-I was no longer working in NYC, but instead, trying to deny I was disabled and do some occasional legal work out of my home.
-We were in debt up to our hips.
-I no longer wanted kids because I did not think it would be fair to them to subject them to a broken down nutball of a mother.
Five Years Ago
-I was 32 years old.
-I was still in in chronic pain, and now formally diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
-I was pushed into attempting to return to work in NYC by a psychotherapist who did me more harm than good, and nearly wound up addicted to pain killers in order to survive the pain and PTSD, which became far worse.
-We were in debt up to our shoulders, and our marriage was pretty shaky, because it's not easy being married to a barely functional person (i.e., me).
-My biological clock was ticking, but I thought I was too crazy to be a decent mother.
Three Years Ago
-I was 34 years old.
-I was still getting my ass kicked by chronic pain and PTSD.
-Art became my major way of coping with pain and stress. Painting and pottery were therapy.
-We were in debt up to our eyeballs and nearly broke up several times.
-My biological clock was ticking, but I thought I was too crazy to be a decent mother.
Two Years Ago
-I was 35 years old.
-I was still getting my ass kicked by chronic pain and PTSD. September 11th triggered the PTSD realy bad, since I over-identified, having also gone to work one day and nearly gotten killed.
-I trained my German Shepherd Dog to work as a service dog, helping me with mobility and psych issues. She helped me start leaving the house more, and feel like a human being.
- I stopped practicing law entirely. We were in debt up to our eyeballs and nearly broke up several times.
-My biological clock was ticking, but I thought maybe with enough therapy I could be a fairly decent mother. Not the Mom I could have been but for the accident, but not toxic either.
One Year Ago
-I was 36 years old.
-I was still getting my ass kicked by chronic pain and PTSD. Therapy and my service dog helped me cope better than I had before, up until I was forced to give up my meds.
-I was supposed to have my first solo show of my paintings, but the gallery went out of business.
-We were in debt up to our eyeballs and nearly broke up several times.
-I found out in September that I was pregnant with Mikro. I threw up the entire nine months, and was pretty much housebound. I could not use my service dog because my pregnant nose was so sensitive, I could not stand dog smell without barfing. (Even if I bathed her daily.)
-I turned 38 a couple months ago. I am mommy to a 6 month old boy.
-I am still getting my ass kicked by chronic pain and PTSD. My service dog had to be medically retired due to an injury, and I am forbidden to take meds because I am breastfeeding. The only good thing about my disability is I get to be home with my baby. Lifting the baby is killing my back and neck...
-I don't get much chance to paint since Mikro was born, but hope to get back to it one day soon.
-We have a shot at getting out of debt, having refinanced our home recently to get a better rate and get some equity out.
-I have seen a whole new amazing side of my husband, who is a truly wonderful and loving father. And I have a beautiful, sweet, smart son who has brought joy back into my life. I'm not a perfect mother, but I will be the very best mom I am able to be.
-I will be waiting for a delivery from Home Depot so we can get started on baby proofing our bathroom.
-I will be hiding from Trick or Treaters till Kevin gets home, because I am an anxiety disordered mess, and can't deal with it on my own.
-We will take Mikro trick or treating in his tiger costume, which I bought six months ago and can barely cram him into. We'll just stop at a couple of our neighbors' places.
-We will carve a pumpkin, drink hot chocolate and eat Mikro's candy.
-I will celebrate how much I love my husband and my sweet little son, and be grateful that they love me despite my disabilities.
Monday, October 27, 2003
The little guy had his 6 month checkup, and is now 17 lbs, 1 oz., 27.5 inches long, and has a 16.75 inch head circumference. He's not so little anymore...
He always reacts badly to his imunizations, and this time I thought we managed to get lucky, until he woke us up Saturday night after midnigt, screaming in a something-is-really-wrong sort of voice.
My husband's jaw dropped, because kidlet was clearly sobbing "Mommy! Mommy!" He was hypothermic, which scared me enough to wake up the pediatrician. (Also scared me enough to check the accuracy of our digital thermometer, recently stuck up Boy's butt, by wiping it off quickly with alcohol and stuffing it in my mouth... To my husband's very vocal disgust. There is not another living soul I would do that for. But I will admit, I gargled with peroxide after the crisis had passed...)
Since he had no other symptoms, we were told to warm him up, and that the fact that he was ravenously breastfeeding was a good sign... Half an hour later, he was normal, smiling, and playing. And he's been fine since...
I, on the other hand, have been a flashy, panic attacky mess. And I'm not sure why, though its probably the high winds, and the Boy giving me a scare didn't help.
I think I hear a "Nay Nay", so I better go.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
7.) More flammable breakfast foods. Allstate insurance seems to have found a hobby (see # 10). The huge corporation is suing the Kellogg corporation alleging that Pop-Tarts are also dangerously flammable and that Kellogg, and not Allstate, ought to pay for damage to burned homes that Allstate was hired to insure. These suits are clogging up courts and costing us all money in at least three states: Ohio, New Jersey and the similar "flaming foods" case in Michigan, above. Beware of Pop Tarts of mass destruction!
Its no wonder Justice wears a blindfold. I bet she's wishing for earplugs!
Friday, October 17, 2003
A few weeks ago, my german shepherd service dog had an ear infection. We tried to clean it out. She didn't much like it. She struggled, and my husband tried to hold her. She wrenched herself around trying to get away from us. Shortly afterward, she started limping a bit on one rear paw. I figured she pulled a muscle. It did not get better.
We took her to the vet, who informs us that she has nerve damage. The dog can't tell where her rear paw is in space, so she's walking funny, and sometimes falls down. She may have a herniated disc.
She will not be able to be a working dog any more. She will not have the strength or the balance to assist me with mobility tasks, or the stamina to accompany me everywhere for the medical alert stuff.
I'm sorry to lose her help.
I'm sorrier still she's in this position, and scared to death she will hurt herself falling down. Especially on the stairs. The vet says she isn't in pain, but it is painful to see her this way. My poor faithful girl. She is terribly upset not to be able to be always at my side. And I am frightened of what life will be without her help. I haven't been using her much, since while pregnant and now with the baby, I don't leave the house much. But now it has become impossible to use her ever again for the work she loved doing.
Thank you my girl. You will always be my hero.
All I can really say about it is, that a person I trusted and valued as a friend has betrayed me and made light of it, and I am hurt beyond measure. I was taking alot of abuse from this person, to try to preserve a long standing friendship. I was too naieve to realize it was already dead.
Then came a full on attack, full of venom and vitriol. Even I can't ignore that in the name of avoiding a confrontation or pretending there's something left to save. It's over.
I sent him a response, saying, thanks for the cruelty. It was LIBERATING.
And it was.
I feel lighter. Free. It is such a relief to be done with his toxic version of friendship.
There's still a little regret, because I looked up to him like a big brother in the good old days.
But the relief outweighs it.
I still have to deal with him for a short while to wrap up the loose ends, but then he rides into the sunset and outta my life. There will probably be some drama before the absolute end, but its almost over.
I need some peace.
Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Monday, October 13, 2003
(I, of course, as a FORMER lawyer, and a pecker-less person, am exempt from that particular curse. I will also exempt the handfull of honest, ethical and genuinely caring lawyers out there. But the vast majority are scum deserving of torment.)
The only bright spots: First, I got a new (not really, it was on our old machine, but it works) keyboard hooked up. Second, The Boy eats peas. Greedily and happily. I have heard this is one of the hardest foods to introduce. But kidlet gobbled it down. Indeed, he liked it better than applesauce. I have a wierd kid. He also loves squash and sweet potato, but his big favorite is still banana. He's eating two full jars of food a day now. My little Hungry Man.
Friday, October 10, 2003
We have had more stress here this week than most people could survive with any vestige of sanity intact. Not sure if we managed to...
My mom and dad came up Monday. On the walk here from the train station, my mom tripped over an uneven patch of sidewalk and split her lip open, bruised her face, hands and knees, and hit her teeth. She refused to go to the emergency room. My dad is afraid she will wind up with abcessed teeth...
He left way too soon, because he is wierd about being away from his dog, and because the triple hernia he insists on walking around with was excruciatingly painful. He bitches at my mom for not seeking medical treatment, while refusing to have simple surgery that would vastly improve his quality of life. That's my family for you!
I missed half his visit because my lawyer called and proceeded to make a scene, while refusing to acknowledge that I had company and could not talk. Same lawyer is the source of most of the stress Kev and I are under. Feh.
I made pesto from scratch on Monday nite for Mom, which was nice. Tuesday did thrift shop shopping with her. Wednesday, we took The Boy to the park (and the beach) for his first time ever. Which was fun except for the very persistent bees and yellow jackets. No stings, but major annoyance.
Hubbie informs me he is sick and can't watch kiddo so I can blog, so I gotta go now. More later...
Monday, October 06, 2003
We must have generated a dust cloud large enough to be seen from space, because all my evil allergies are out to get me. I am a sniffly mess.
Mikro decided to help matters further by attempting to bite off the boobs that feed him. So I am sore to boot. And the house still doesn't look like anything a sane woman would allow her mother to see. (So what am I worried about? We all know I'm nuts...)
I guess I can always hope my mom forgot her eye glasses...
Gotta go do the whirlwind bleach the kitchen countertops tour... Wish I could blare some classic 80s rock, but The Boy is sleeping, so I somehow have to convince my butt to move without the aid of music...
Thursday, October 02, 2003
Chele is apparently also a village in the Himalayas.
The term chele is used in Nicaraguan slang to denote Europeans (in opposition to the North American-indicating gringo), and approximates to "foreigner".
And, of course, Ix Chel was the mayan goddess of the moon, childbirth, healing, art, creativity and weaving.
Can you tell I'm in avoidance mode???
Time to go feed The Boy, who has moved on to sweetpotatos now. (Very messy, staining, and stinky when viewed the second time around, if ya know what I mean...)