Archive for November, 2004
After nearly a week of suffering with chicken pox, I’m sure you can forgive me for using a meme card today. Started wondering what kinds of things you might want to know about me, and just figured I’d ask.
Here’s the assignment:
Ask me three questions – Any three questions – Whatever you wanna know. In a couple days I’ll cherry-pick around twenty of ’em and respond. If you’re half as crazy as I am, this could be fun.
The only questions to avoid are those that can’t be answered without violating someone else’s privacy, and anything that’s just plain rude.
Bear in mind, I don’t voluntarily lay a lot out there, but when asked a direct question it’s my pleasure to answer honestly. Here is your chance to draw it out of me instead.
On your mark… Get set… GO!
November 30th, 2004
A while back I wrote a post about a friend whom I recently learned was a victim of childhood abuse. Having instantly liked his mother, one of my initial questions was whether or not she ever discovered what was going on. The response was…
No… And she must never find out.
Well, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and left it at that… But I didn’t. Over subsequent conversations I expressed these concepts:
1. Ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s merely postponed pain.
2. Your mom seems like an intelligent, caring, down-to-earth person. I find myself horrified that someone like that – someone so much like me – never discovered what was going on right under her nose. I find it impossible, in fact. And if I it were me I would rather know the truth.
Frankly, item number two has been plaguing me ever since. I mean, here is a loving mother with two beautiful sons… and she never discovered that they were being brutalized by their father? How could she not notice their precious personalities being warped?
This is unacceptable.
After spending some time with her, she seemed to be everything I would ever want to be as a mother. Funny, smart, and tough… no June Cleaver. A firecracker. Seeing myself in her forced me to imagine that this sort of thing might slip past my radar, too.
Somebody please tell me that there is no fucking way that could ever happen. Somebody tell me that she was a selfish, self-absorbed, blind bitch. Please. Somebody prove to me that I was wrong about her… It means too much to me about who I am.
Having suffered, and knowing firsthand the scars of abuse, I simply cannot bear the concept that I wouldn’t see it coming a mile away. To think that someone could violate my children for years without my knowlege… Sign me up for a preemptive hysterectomy.
And therefore, when I was told this morning that the truth had finally been forced to the surface… I was relieved. Not just because every cell in my body loves the truth, but also because she then lashed out at her son in prideful disbelief. Thanks, guess I was wrong about you.
November 29th, 2004
After suffering with this pathetic bout of chicken pox for a few days, I think I’m ready to hand out some awards.
Behold the “MOST VICIOUS POX” award winners…
For providing me with a persistent tickle that is irritated by even the slightest air current, the award for Most Subtle Yet Effective goes to the pox on the tip of my right ear.
To recognize their extraordinary teamwork, the award for Best Cooperative Effort goes to the colonies that have settled the areas at the sides of my upper torso. Your proliferation has been amazing.
The award for the Biggest Superstar goes to the giant pox located on the middle of my spine. You placed yourself in the least accessible place and then expanded to the size of a dime.
Next up is the Humanitarian Award which goes to the single pox on my face. Thank you for making your home on my left temple and then refusing to procreate. You are the Mother Teresa of chicken pox.
Last but not least, I must recognize the Overall MVP award, for the pox that has consistently provided the highest level of agony. This goes to the pox on my left nipple.
Give ’em all a big round of applause for their hard work. They have managed to drive me completely insane despite the best efforts of Claritin and Tylenol tablets, Aveeno Colloidal Oatmeal baths, Sarna lotion, and even my darling spray-on Calamine. Good work, guys!
Actually, big thanks to all of you for your product tips and thoughtful get-well wishes. They are much appreciated. I’m hanging in there… Hope this crap is over soon!
November 28th, 2004
Let’s enjoy a Reading Rainbow moment, shall we?
Turkey Pox is the story of Charity, a girl who loves Thanksgiving. But on the way to Grandma’s house to enjoy her favorite holiday meal, Charity’s family discovers that she has come down with the chicken pox! The car turns around, heads home, and Thanksgiving is ruined.
Well slap my ass and call me Charity…
YES, I GOT CHICKEN POX – ON THANKSGIVING!
If my life must imitate art, why can’t it do it in some wonderful way?
To put it mildly, this sucks. Thought I could elude chicken pox forever. Maybe some merciful person will come along and put me into a nice little COMA until this INSANE ITCHYNESS is all over.
I am terrified. How long will it last? How bad will it get? When does the itching stop? Is it going to spread some more? Am I going to scar? A million questions and nobody really has the answers.
Shall I keep myself busy cooking and try to keep my mind off of the mind-blowing frustration of itching like crazy and not being able to scratch? Yes. There’s no reason everyone’s Thanksgiving should be ruined …Just …Mine.
November 25th, 2004
I just want to give thanks for all my new friends here in the blogosphere… I’m grateful for your time, your thoughtful input, and for whatever it is that keeps you coming back for more.
LOVE to all of you! …and a Happy Thanksgiving!
November 24th, 2004