Love the Chinese and my Zen thoughts of the Day, hee hee (me rambling)

E

more the engrish!

You gotta give the Chinese some credit for attempting to get every sign in English before the Olympics.  Somehow I think they missed it on that one.  Some things just don't translate well.  

I love it!!

Here's my rambling thought process of the day:

I finally gave in to my SIL insistence's that I look into Facebook.  I assumed it was up there with MySpace and shunned it like the plague.  After finally going there, I found out it's not half bad.  I found some old friends.  I only said hello to two of them.  Heard back from one that I haven't seen since early college.  Pretty cool.  I like how you can keep your profile as private as you would like.  Gotta give the SIL some credit.  Cool place.  

My hubby got on there too and threw a sheep at me today.  Who knew?  What a perfect thing to throw a knitter.  Get out the shears, look out wool, here I come.  

This got me thinking, "why do I not want to contact many old friends?"  I thought it through for a bit. This is my conclusion:  It's because the first thing they're going to ask me is how are you? or what do you do now?  I find it embarrassing to admit that I don't work and I am sick.  I don't want people to think I want their sympathy.  I don't want people to feel sorry for me.  This is just what life has thrown me, a curve ball.  I love being able to explore my creative side and spend time doing the crafts that I love.  I hope they can see that.  I may have an illness, but I am by no means unhappy!  I have a wonderful husband, great family, and very caring friends and great knitting buddies (my peeps).  Sure, I have some days where I am down or mad and exhausted from all the pain, that doesn't mean I'm unhappy with my life.  I love my life and the people in it.

I told my friend from high school band I was re-married.  I assumed he knew that my first marriage didn't stick, it actually STUNK!  I assume everyone knows that.  People placed bets on how long it would last.  I'm sure some people got rich off that bet.  That's one of the downfalls of growing up in a small town and doing something entirely stupid.  Everyone knows!  Gossip runs rampant!

I learned early on after my divorce that people don't know what to say to you right after a divorce.  I never knew if they were going "I told you so"(because they should have) or if they just had no idea of how to act around a very young divorcee (I was about 22).  Yep, I had failed and I did it like a great big, fabulous bellyflop.  SPLAT.  

Divorce is hard.  There's just that odd tension all around you and you know "everyone knows what you did".  In small towns everyone talks.  This is when you find out who your real friends are.  Of course you'll lose some good friends because they were your ex's friends first.  Comes with the territory, I miss them, but I eventually had to move on and restart my life.  I miss a lot of those friends and still think about them fondly, but I know I wasn't at my finest during those years.  I hope they know that too.

It's really hard to describe going through a divorce and not sound angry about it.  I'm really at peace with my divorce, I would just rather think of it as going through a psychotic phase from the age of 17-24.  That's much easier than admitting I was a total idiot.  At least in retrospect.  If only I knew then what I know now.  I had a moment about a week before my first marriage when I really wanted to back out.  I had a bad feeling about it, but I was terrified that my parents had spent all that money and all those invitations had been sent out, everyone had made plans to come.  I can't tell you how much I regret 1) wasting that perfect wedding with the wrong guy and 2) not being strong enough to back out.  I was young & scared. I confused what would have been the intelligent choice with what I thought was just cold feet.  Oh, to be able to see the future.  

I wouldn't change the experiences of those years, because I wouldn't be the person I am today.  I'm a stronger person.  I know I can survive most anything, even when it seems that the world has come to an end.  It hasn't!  And I learned to focus on just being me and not trying to fit in or try to be what others want me to be.  I learned to just be me,  and how to just love being me.  It was a hard lesson, but I tell my husband that without a bad marriage, I would never have been able to appreciate a good one as much as I do now.  I know what it's like to be married to someone who doesn't want you, and I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it is to be married to someone who loves ME.  I don't think there was much Love in the first marriage, just young stupidity.  Because I finally "found myself", I know my husband loves me for just being me, because that's the person he met and fell in love with.  

Now, I have a theory that no one should get married until they are at least 25.  That feels like forever when you're 18, but by the time you turn 25 you will have found your place in the world. I don't think you should go into a marriage, until you know where you're going on the road of life.  You know the old adage:  Don't run before you can walk.  Mom once told me she thought about talking to me about getting into that first marriage too quickly, but she knew I was at a rebellious stage which meant I would do exactly the opposite of what she wanted me to do.  I look back and wonder, 'would I have listened?'  I like to think yes, but I look back now and realize she was probably right.  

Therefore, my Zen thoughts come to these simple conclusions:

1)  youth is definitely wasted on the young

2) as we grow older we grow wiser

3)  don't regret what you've done--learn from it

4) listen to that inner voice or you'll live to regret it

and finally,

5) forgive and forget!

Okay, I don't think I've accomplished #5 very well.  I have forgotten and  somewhat forgiven, but I don't think I'm very good at it. I've forgotten most of it. In fact I think of my marriage now as my first because my actual first one never felt like a Real marriage.  What I have now is a Marriage.  What I had then was ......well, I don't know what it was.  I wish I could say I have happy memories of it all, but I have very few memories at all.  I believe that is known as selective memory.  To be quite honest, I literally burned every picture of those years.  (My sister was my witness -I'm pretty sure she thought I had lost my mind).  I know I should be all Zen and go "I forgive you"  but, hey, he never asked so I guess I skipped that step.  I don't really harbor ill feelings toward him, but I don't exactly have any warm fuzzy wishes for him either.  Heck, I still have nightmares about him.  I await the day that my subconscious self finally lets go of him and releases me from those dreams.  I always wake up and thank God I'm dreaming.  This is probably why I should forgive and forget.  I'll talk to my subconscious about it someday.  This is what therapy is for, at least I get my money's worth out of my therapist.  Lovely! :)

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I went to bed last night and felt I really needed to go back and add one thought about my ex.  I may not say fabulous things about him, but I should at least give him compliments on this:  he had impeccable taste in friends.  He had a knack for making friends that were fabulous people and devoted friends.  I imagine that bunch of childhood friends will not easily be parted by distance or time.  They were a close-knit bunch and I imagine they still are today.  

Happy Thoughts

I promised to post happy, bubbly thoughts today.  I know my ranting yesterday was kinda incoherent.  Funny how anger just never comes out well on paper.  My thought process was all over the place.  No migraine talk today.  

I've been working hard on things for my good friend.  She is a proud new mama of her baby girl, Daliah.  She's so tiny and cute.  I saw her at 3 weeks old.  She is the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.  Just perfect.  6lbs 8oz.  Very tiny.  My friend requested some baby legwarmers.  I'd never heard of  them before, but she brought me some pictures of some in a pregnancy magazine.  So cute, but also expensive.  I had some sock yarn hanging around that I wanted to play with.  It's Panda Cotton, part cotton, and part bamboo, with a dash of elastic.  They are so soft and cute.  Best thing: fast easy knitting!  

Aren't they cut?  I hope they look great on Daliah.  The colors did pool a bit, but I'm okay with that, couldn't help it anyway.  I decided on two baby blankets to make her.  This one has a knitted center section with crochet granny squares around the edges.  I used washing machine friendly yarn, because no new mom has time to wash and lay flat to dry.  I'm just not that cruel.  The pictures just don't show off the colors well.  The blanket is light lavender, with dark purple, bright but not obnoxious pink, and yellow on the edges. It turned out a bit wonky.  Not too bad for a first try.  Gotta remember how much I hate weaving in all those ends on the granny squares next time.  What granny ever came up with that?  She must have had a lot of patience and way too much time. 

This one is by far my favorite.  It's 36" across and so buttery soft.  I love the round shape, because it is so different.  I'm very proud of this one.  My friend loved it.  I think I'll have to do this one again sometime.  Fun.


These were my first attempt at baby legwarmers.  They're not as soft as the other pair.  Actually, the yarn is soft, it's just too thick to drape very well.  I want to try these on the baby and see if I need to redo them.  It's a self striping yarn.  Cool stuff.  Makes me look more talented than I actually am.

Well, that all my happy project thoughts for today.  At least you can tell I've accomplished quite a bit in the last few months despite the migraines.  My little victory :)

You've GOT to be kidding me !!!??!

Warning:  Migraine Rant!!

I swear (and trust me-I've been swearing all day)!  First, I couldn't sleep last night, because when my migraines hit sometimes I can't sleep.  Lying still is what most people do when they have a migraine, but me, of course not.  Did you expect me to be normal?  You should know better by now.  I'm UNIQUE :)  Somehow that word is quickly becoming the equivalent of screeching nails on a chalk board.  For some strange reason, I have a hard time lying down during my migraines.  I sit up and, like a crazy person, rock back and forth a bit (during SUPER bad ones).  I know, scary huh?  Most of the time I sit and push my thumbs into my eye socket and hope that somehow I can pop that sucker back into my head.  It feels like my eyes are going to burst.  Seems reasonable to me that pushing them back in is the rational thing to do.  It's not???  Of course it is.  Okay, maybe I really am weird (I refuse to say unique).  At one point in my life I embraced my uniqueness and was proud to be my own person.  PLEASE, GOD.....I just want to be NORMAL.  Slightly out of kilter?  A tad bit on the weird side?  A few fries short of a happy meal?  Please, anything but UNIQUE!  

Seriously though, I spent my night in agonizing pain.  I just kept knitting headbands trying to ignore all those evil nerve sensors, on overdrive, screaming for my attention.  But I refuse to listen to them.  They have to shut up sooner or later.  I've taken all of my abortive medications.  Nothing left.  I knit through the wee hours, with my poor dog wondering is it day or night?  He's confused because he wants to sleep, but I can't.  He gets a little moody about disturbing his slumber.  Well, now as the day dawns and my vision is so blurry that it looks like my house is full of a cool, winter morning  haze after a big downfall of snow.  Alas, no snow.  It's only September.  I did discover the Lime & Violet podcast about knitting.  Always wondered about people's fascinations with podcasting.  Lime & Violet are rather kooky, and a bit irreverent while talking all about their lives and knitting.  I felt like a lone person sitting on a park bench, overhearing best friends catch up on all the latest gossip.  This new adventure kept me distracted until my much healthier half got up.  This is where my patience runs out on me every time.  I've suffered through the night, managed to keep my butt (actually head) out of the Emergency Room, and now the long wait from 7:30 when hubby leaves until 9:00 when my neurologist opens for the day.  I get the nurse on the phone, who knows me quite well, and we discuss how I'm not fabulous today and I have officially given up on curing myself.  She types notes to send to my doctor and then asks me, "what would you like today?"  I always rely on my trusty Stadol shot, which rarely fails (note the very important RARELY) "I don't know.  He knows I'm out of my Stadol nasal spray 2 weeks early,  I'm betting he's just going to shoot me at this point!"  She actually added that to the end of her note to my doctor.  Luckily, he decided to send me to the hospital to get a shot with a needle and not a gun.  Not sure that a gun wouldn't have been a better option.  WHEN are they going to start doing head transplants?  I would like to have a nice, new head with the same freckles and formerly natural red hair, just leave off the extra two chins.  Yep, sounds good to me.  

So, off to the hospital we go.  My poor hubby takes another long lunch to trudge with me up to the hospital and how he manages to not go crazy I will never know.  The one good thing is the hospital no longer sends me to One Day Surgery to get my shot.  It took at least 1- 1 1/2 hours to go through Admissions (gee, they are always so eager to work fast)  I think they should put me into the system permanently 'cause, heck, they already know who I am when I arrive.  Sad isn't it.  Now I go to the Cancer Treatment Center to get my shots.  I only had to go through the registration once (which was last Thursday, ugh) and from now on I just check in and head straight back to the infusion room.  It's bright, but not noisy.  You do get a nice cushy recliner to sit in and a tv to stare at.  I loved that I just walk right in, tell them what I need, and go on my way.  The nurse takes my blood pressure (surprisingly low) and temperature, then asks me where I want my shot.  Arm or Hip?  Hip-hip-hooray!  I know, bad joke.  I try to keep track of which hip got it last, this time was lefty's turn.  Here it comes, "just a little stick."  "Ready?"  Yep.  Hit me with your best shot.  2mg of Stadol and 50mg of Phenergan.  If you've ever had Phenergan stuck into your hip, you'd know that it burns like the dickens!  Little prick, no big deal.  Stinging left butt cheek on fire. Oh yea, that feels good.  Not.  At least a nurse taught me years ago to lift my weight off of the foot belonging to said hip, that helps you not tighten your muscles while you've got a needle stuck into your butt.  Butt/hip? What's the difference?  Some nurses aim high and others low.    We won't mention the time I lost my balance.  It all ends up pulsing though my body eager to get to work on those damn screaming nerve cells.  It's about time something shut them up.  For a little while at least.  Now, I sit patiently and await the meds to work over the next 30 minutes.  Getting better.  Slowly, but better.  After checking on me every little bit to make sure I don't have some bizarre reaction, I'm released to go home.  Off to bed!  Sleep!  Please, oh, please, just a few hours of peaceful rest.  

I crash at the house and am finally getting some relief.  If only that could last more that a few blissful hours.  Not pain free, but much less pain.  What would a day without pain feel like?  I have completely forgotten over the past 7 years.  How would it feel?  Would I know what to do with myself?  Or would I waste it, that one glorious, sacred day?  Feet back on the ground, now.  I get all settled in and prepare to snooze away in peaceful slumber.   

Phone rings.  My phone ringer sounds like the song from the Twilight Zone.  Du, du, doo, du, Du, du, doo, du.  Wish I was stuck in the twilight zone, it sure feels like it.  I roll over about to ignore it, but picked the thing up and saw my neurologist's office was calling.  Hmmm, what could they want?  The secretary? desk clerk?  appointment specialist? let's call her, Sue is calling to tell me about the appointment she was setting up with a new pain management doctor in Memphis.  Good.  Nope.  A BIG, GIANT, ROTTEN, STINKING, PUKING, RAGING bad.

Noooooooooooooooooo, I'm in the Twilight Zone. Oh crap! Reality sucks!  The aforementioned  Pain Management doctor has reviewed my records and has decided not to accept me as a patient.  Are you kidding me?  Can he do that?  What?  No, really, WHAT???  WARNING!! WARNING!! Tears swelling.  Abort! Abort!

Breathe

Big Deep Breaths

Calming Breaths

Soothing Thoughts. 

Go to my happy place.

Hang up phone.  NOW cry like baby, while dog looks on thoroughly confused.  Oh, and she ended the phone call by saying my neurologist doesn't know anyone else to refer me to, but he will gladly give me a recommendation to any doctor or clinic I can find that will treat me.  Oh joy.  

Reality bites.

I gathered my beaten, battered, bludgeoned, and thoroughly murdered hopes up off the floor, put on my big girl panties, and called the husband to whimper and cry on.  He's a good listener.  He is wary of giving any advice at this point.  He's quite aware this is a dangerous moment and no matter which path he chooses (sympathetic or calm and reassuring) this is a volatile moment.  He chose quiet support.  Which of course my ranting self took as, "so."  BOOM  There went my dignity.  Not Calm.  Now Pissed.  "How can a doctor do that?  Now what am I going to do? I can't believe this?  Is there anything we haven't tried yet?  You've just got to be kidding."  Please be kidding, please.  Sorry.  Sorry.  I know.  Stay calm.  We will just keep trying.   Hung up phone.  

No way I was getting restful sleep now.  I knitted the five remaining rows of the headband I was working on.  I was so steamed, I knitted fast and furious.  The stitches were so tight, I practically needed pliers to get them to budge.  Somehow not feeling the therapeutic relief that usually comes with knitting.

Yep, I'm unique.  Now I can scare off a doctor by just sending him my medical history.  Great.

Tomorrow:  Happy Thoughts