Archive for October, 2009

Half full

My husband lost his job last week…

…the job that was slowly killing him. He was on the road, commuting across state, eating fast food, sleeping in hotel rooms, missing time with his daughters, and stressed in such a way that I seriously feared heart attack.

And then I remember that a year ago yesterday, a woman in mint green scrubs locked my head into a helmet and slid me into a dark, magnetic tube for a brain MRI to check for MS — which I didn’t have. And later that night, I went to the ER because I was convinced the MRI had caused the white pain of a migraine that left me unable to function — it hadn’t. And for the next several months I was nearly bed-ridden because of horrific pain diagnosed as fibromyalgia, which I was told would never get better — it did.

So yeah — October 2009: Swine flu is everywhere. It’s been raining for the last ten days. My husband is unemployed. Our house continues to fall apart and maybe worst of all, I’ve gained 5 pounds.

But really, it’s all good.


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A Revealing Me-me

Karen, a very ‘appy and lovely British blogger, over at If I Could Escape tagged me with this blogging award and guess what the prize is? I get to write about me! In my first me-me-me meme. Hooray.

Okay, first I must tag seven new award-winners. And the awards go to:

1. Alias Mother (I know you’re busy)
2. Chocolate and Wine (I know you’re sick)
3. Emilie’s Observations (I still don’t get Steampunk)
4. My City Life (To be composed in your high rise)
5. No Shoe Left Behind (Start banging away over there)
6. The Fibrochondriac (Use your WordPress)
7. Waltz in Exile (Must use at least three ***’s)

Next I’m supposed to share seven of my personality traits. Okay. So, I am:

Self-aware: A shrink once told me I was the “most self-aware person he had ever seen.” This, from a shrink. He also told me I was the “most anxious person he had ever seen,” which I think makes him the “most frequent abuser of superlatives I have ever seen.”

A Good Listener: When I’m done talking about me, I am happy to concede the floor. I love, love stories about others – especially kooky family stories. I collect them. When one of my friends spends a weekend with her kooky relatives, I’ll brew a pot of coffee, curl up on the couch and wait for the phone to ring. “Go!” I’ll shout when she calls. Seriously, no detail is too small. Try me.

Funny. Okay, my blog is not funny. Nor will this little blurb about me being funny be funny. But in my off-line life, people tell me I’m funny. So maybe I’m a bit funny-ish. Or maybe I’m just very funny-strange.

Hyper-organized. You should see my house. I honestly feel incomplete if I leave the house without the beds made. I was one of those people at work who always had the freakishly clean desk. I could hear people whispering “like, so anal” when they walked by my office.

Curious. I once wanted to start a “research club.” I thought it was a great idea. One person picks the topic and the rest of the group has to do research on it. Then everyone gets together, drinks wine and discusses what they’ve learned. I shopped the idea around and got nuthin. Maybe this explains the “you’re so funny” feedback.

Emotional. Every day I’m forced to make the climb out of the pit in my stomach and head back up into my brain. Every single day.

Guilt-ridden. Example: In the last two weeks, I have been working on getting this unpaid writing gig that is not likely a good fit for me. I needed a picture of myself for the site, so I asked my good friend Beth to take a picture of me.

Beth is an amazing photographer. She came over and took a few shots and while I love Beth’s work, I hate the way I look. My hair is total Carol Brady, my nose is bulbous and I am. so. old. Huge creases, everywhere. Oh, and oink, oink. OMG.

So after she generously came over to take pictures on a rainy day, lugging her sleeping infant in a carseat, I just couldn’t send in her photo. And I didn’t want to ask her to photoshop out the wrinkles, clear up my skin, and shave pounds off my chin. So I used another picture. But I told her I would definitely use her photo for something else. So, for her:

beths photo

This is my self-aware, listening, funny-ish, hyper-organized, curious, emotional and (oh, so slightly less) guilt-ridden self. Coffee’s brewing. Now then, about you…Go!

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