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
No doubt somebody will tell me I’m a racist for bringing this up, but phuket… Wait, that’s Thai… But what the heck, it’s FUN to stir the pot so here goes:
So I’m at the nail salon the other day. The same one that I’ve been going to since I was sixteen. Twice a month I head there for my regular appointment. It’s supposed to be a relaxing experience in a spa-like atmosphere. A little pampering, a little relaxation… Right?
Not exactly. Let me tell you what it’s really like…
I walk in to this adorable little hole-in-the-wall, where there is music softly playing, surrounded by peaceful peach-colored walls, assorted flower arrangements, and the bubbling of pedicure baths.
Greeted sweetly by small-framed ladies with delicate features and perfectly straight black hair, they speak softly and demurely with broken English through gentle smiles. While seated, I begin to unwind and forget all the hustle and bustle of my busy life until…
I am suddenly shocked back to reality by the most horrifying sounds ever to assault my ears.
These women start to speak (and I use the term loosely) to eachother in their native tongue, using the most awful ear-piercing tones I have ever heard in my life! And amidst this horror, for just a split second I think to myself, “So this is why we bombed Vietnam.”
I’m a very bad person… I know.
November 23rd, 2004
We’re having a little cold snap here in California. Wintery weather is a rare treat in Los Angeles, and I absolutely love it! Wanna know why?…
1. Hot chocolate with marshmallows
2. Wearing scarves that I made
3. Actually using the fireplace
4. Fur trim on everything
5. High-heeled boots
6. More cuddling
7. Goofy hats
November 21st, 2004
I am warning you in advance: If you don’t like to hear about people’s disgusting personal aliments – Move along, nothing to see here.
However, if you’re an information junkie like me, and you actually enjoy thumbing through gory medical journals – Read on…
Three weeks ago, I noticed this reddish patch right near my collarbone, at the base of my neck. It looked like a burn or a hickey something, but it didn’t hurt… it was just there.
Apart from exposing my vanity it didn’t do much, so I didn’t stress until a week had passed with no imrovement. By then I had worn every turtleneck sweater at least once and tried every over-the-counter treatment I could think of.
So I saw my doctor last Wednesday, and he says that he thinks it’s ringworm. Ringworm? That sounds particularly disgusting. Don’t only dirty people get things like that? Gross! He tells me to continue with the antifungal cream and asked me what I was doing the day it appeared.
After thinking back a bit, I realize… Wasn’t that the day that I bought ten pounds of mushrooms and rolled around in them? No. Hmm… All I did that day was finish a lot of crochet projects while watching season two Alias DVDs… Oh, and I worked out at the gym.
Damn that gym! I’m sure they’re behind this.
It’s been nearly three weeks since this ghastly lesion showed up, and despite following my doctor’s instruction faithfully, there has been no improvement. So now it’s gone from being an oddity to a big mystery. All I know is, I want it to leave without a trace.
November 18th, 2004
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