That old melancholy feeling.

Tonight we booked one-way tickets to the US. In 5 weeks we'll be saying goodbye to New Zealand and starting anew somewhere in the States.

I know I should be ecstatic about it, but I'm not. All I feel is this deep sense of melancholy. We've been planning to leave NZ since before I even moved here, but now the plans are so permanent and I find myself asking "Why are we moving?". I know all the logical reasons why, I just can't seem to give a shit about them anymore. Who leaves a place that makes them happy for the unknown that could bring them misery? Apparently we do. What the fuck is up with that?

Okay, I'll admit it...I'm scared. Not just a little, I mean I am completely overwhelmed by this huge fear that is sitting squarely on my chest. I think it's having a lovely chat with the neurotic panic and paranoia currently circling 'round in my mind. The two of them are having quite the party with my sanity (what little I have).

I suppose the fact that I've been sick since New Year's with some "tummy bug" (as named by the urgent care doc I saw) that seems more like a tummy gila monster is not really helping the matter any. I haven't been able to take most of my medication so I'm feeling really grand at the moment if you catch my drift.

I have an ENTIRE FLAT FULL OF SHIT to sort, sell off, or pack and ship, but instead of doing that I'm sitting here with this "deer caught in the headlights" dazed look on my face, in between the bouts of hysterical tears.

I've been trying to find my happy place, but I think it's on vacation indefinitely. Probably sunning itself on the same tropical beach as my sanity. Bastards.

Thanksgiving

I've been trying to write a blog post about Thanksgiving for the last hour and it's just not working. Nothing goes together, some of it sounds cheesy, some cynical and sarcastic, some highly pessimistic, and the majority of it--downright blah. So instead of a coherent post, all you're gonna get is random things scattered all over the place and squished together. Sort of how a dinner plate looks on Thanksgiving now that I think about it. *snort*

1. I wonder what Native Americans think about Thanksgiving? Having some Native blood myself (as do a good portion of Americans) I can't help but think about how on the one hand Native Americans saved the starving asses of people who landed on their shore and then were killed and stripped of their land by others who followed after once America started to look attractive to their pockets.

2. Isn't it kind of funny how the whole nation that was participating in the "What I'm thankful for..." lovefest the day before, suddenly transform into a rabid, psychotic crowd that push, shove, and if need be, fight their way through crowds of shoppers to get a good deal on that toy Tommy has to have for Christmas or the big screen TV they've been drooling after? Those crowds are mean! Let's hope no one gets hurt this year.

3. Have you ever noticed how incredibly reluctant everyone is to go home for the holidays...and yet they go home for the holidays!?! What is this ritualistic torture we all put ourselves through every year? I mean, I'm thankful for my family even though they really drive me nuts sometimes, but some people's families get into knock down, drag out fights at Thanksgiving dinner, and yet they still do it every year! This is yet another reason why I think we are a nation full of masochists. Do you think the puritanical roots of the early settlers have anything to do with it? Mixed in with all that Catholic guilt from the later droves of immigrants (think Irish and Hispanic). Yeah. We have guilt issues.

4. I'm thankful for a shitload of things that I can't even put into words. I could try, but I'll forget something and then feel guilty about it! Damn it, there goes that guilt again, see what I mean about guilt issues? Fine, to override my worry over guilt, I'll list some of the things that I'm thankful for anyway! In no particular order (because if I try and order it this will never get listed): Chris, my family (even though they piss me off), friends that I love as family, my doggie family that I miss wickedly in the US, the Internets, music, $5 CD Mp3 sales on Amazon.com (yes, they do, right now, go see!), a dentist that I'm not afraid to go see, that I can afford health care even though the doctors I see make me want to punch them in the face sometimes, Barack Obama (and please lets hope he appears on this list again next year!), the experience of living in another country and all the things it has opened my eyes to, strawberries, a stable relationship that makes all the instability in my life bearable (I didn't think that was possible, but it is), that I goaded myself into starting this NaBloPoMo thing almost 2 months ago and have kept up with it (I thought for sure I'd bomb out), the ebb and flow of my life and moods--they sure do keep things interesting, sense of humor (both mine and in others), the experiences of this past year--good and bad they are what they are and have helped shape me into the person I am at this moment and I can honestly say even though some days I don't like myself very much, I'm not half bad and I'm a million times happier than I was 10 years ago.

5. Oh, and one more thing! I'm thankful for the handful of people who read my blog. You are all so very brave to check out my odd ramblings and postings every day! *snort* Thank you for being a part of my life and letting me be a part of yours. You are worth more than you know.

Stickers on laptops--why?

I'm selling my laptop to a friend (it's only about a year old) because we came across a great deal on a new one for a fraction of its original sale price and I needed an upgrade. Yay! While comparing the two I noticed I've been picking around the edges of the stickers on the older one. I don't remember doing it at all, in fact I've been trying really hard to leave them alone!

What is with the stickers anyway? Are they like adware-sticker style? Will computer manufacturers start auctioning off the "sticker spaces" to the highest bidder, you know, sort of like SUN auctioning for whose bull shit tool bars to include with their JAVA downloads? I get that some people think certain stickers (like ones indicating the processor or graphics card) give them visual bragging rights to the awesomeness of whatever is housed inside the plastic/metal shell, but I'm not big on the whole name brand thing and I'm not geeky enough to get a little tingly in my pants over the specs of a laptop! Do others not notice this, or do they just not care? Am I the only one who can't ignore the giant eyesores stuck below the keyboard?

Chris asked me why I don't just take them off and I don't have a good answer. There isn't any crucial info on them, it's only the ones with the warranty number and such on the underside of the computer that have to be left alone. So why do I not feel like I can just take the unimportant ones off? Hmmm...

I know, we can blame it on my childhood! *snort* I've been getting in trouble for peeling labels, stickers, band-aids, price tags, etc...since I was a little kid. When things are smooth and seem like they belong, I'm okay with leaving them be. But as soon as one little corner starts to lift up or the sticker looks like it doesn't belong there, I can't leave them alone until I've peeled them off! Unless of course I've been forbidden to do so, then I just THINK about peeling them off and try desperately to ignore them.

I guess since the stickers are on there all official looking I took it to mean I wasn't allowed to mess with them. But am I wrong? Can I really take them off? No one is going to give me hell for it like I got when I tore the tag off my pillow as a kid? Am I really asking this question? Why has it never occured to me that I could take the ugly things off!?!

9 days and counting...

Okay, I give... NaNoWriMo has kicked my ass big time. Or should I say everything else going on this month has kicked my ass and NaNoWriMo has not gotten as much effort as I intended to give it? Either way, my word count is sadly lacking and I don't forsee being able to write 37,000+ words in the next week. *sighs*

I'm trying to tell myself that it's fine, I've given it my best shot considering all the other things I've been juggling this month. But really, I'm still rather annoyed with myself over the whole thing! MEH.

On a totally unrelated note, have I said lately how much I'm going to miss the incredible coffee I get here when we move to the US? With the exception of Starbucks, until I moved here I had no concept of the glorious wonders of espresso and how divine 2 shots of it are topped with some steamed milk and dusted with cinnamon... And how about the days when a healthy dose of chocolate finds itself swirled into the brew for a slightly sweet but not in any way sugary (if they make it right) dessert? Before moving here I didn't think it was possible to actually enjoy coffee without copious amounts of sugar and creamer. Oh how wrong I was!

Do you think I can fit a barrista and espresso machine in my suitcase?

On and on and on...

On Dentists--I have the most kickass dentist in the world. That's high praise coming from a major dental-phobe. I have more to say about him and the wonderful office he and his brother run, but for now, this will have to do. I've had 2 teeth pulled by him in the last week, both which were broken for various reasons. Most would opt to have them surgically removed since often trying to pull them causes the whole tooth to break, in which case they have to then go surgical and cut it out with some of the bone. But he was up for trying to get them out without all that and in the end they came out without breaking because the man has skills and is so damn patient!

Granted, I could feel some of the pulling today, fuck did that hurt! But it's not his fault they can't deaden the nerve there. The main nerve that gives sensation to the lip/chin area on that side of my jaw runs close to the root area of my back teeth, which can make numbing up a challenge, and since I already have problems with local anesthetic wearing off too fast or not working at all, that doesn't help matters. He did get it numbed better than anyone else ever has though, so kudos to the man!

I'm looking into ways to clone him (along with my Rheumatologist) so I can take them to the US with me 'cause I've never had such great care before. Usually I cry over having to go see the dentist, and now I'm going to end up crying over having to leave this dentist! What is the world coming to?

On week 2 of mushy foods--I miss my fresh, crunchy fruits and veggies, and I miss chewing food! LOL

On NaNoWriMo--Anyone else notice that a goal turns into a convenient whip in the hands of an obsessive perfectionist?? I am so guilty of that, and it's gotta stop. I've over the last few years been able to temper my inclinations towards things like that pretty well, but obviously I have more work to do in that area.

So I'm taking the wisdom on the topic that Jackie said in response to my last blog post and reminding myself that in the same way I've learned to give myself grace about other things, I need to be all zen-like about this as well. If I hit 50,000, WOO HOO!! If I don't, well, I still have more than when I began. One needs to enjoy the journey and release our attachment to the finish line, right? That doesn't mean we never reach any of our goals because we don't strive for them. Not at all. It just means remembering that the journey is just as important (if not more so) than meeting the goal we've set, and that as long as we've learned things and gained new experiences along the way, it's still a win, even if we don't reach our goal the first time around.

That said, I'm still going to try my damnedest to reach it! I wrote a shitload last night, so my count is a bit over 11,000 right now, but a lot of that is very "stream of consciousness" and random. I think it'll help give me topics on which to expound on at a later time this month, so it's all good!

Keep up the good work all my NaNo writers out there!!

My NaNoWriMo word count is mocking me!

Yes, it totally is. It's bad! I must confess that I actually haven't written anything since Nov.4th...today is the 9th, 5 days people, 5 bloody days behind!

"Why so behind?" you ask. Take damn elections in the US and NZ mixed with a little misery from my missing tooth, heaping spoonfuls of disbelief, sorrow, and angst over the whole anti-gay ballot initiatives passing, and a really generous dash of "psycho-bitch" attitude that I've had going on for the last 3 days, blend well with ice, pour into a lovely sugar rimmed glass and you too can have a taste of the potent brew (otherwise known as the emotional disaster that lives in my mind) that I've been intoxicated with the last few days!

In that state it seems I can't focus my brain enough to write things I actually have to think deeply about! *sighs* I woke up this morning thinking that maybe the nice me would make an appearance today so that I could get something useful done. After getting a slow start to the morning I decided to make pancakes for lunch to experiment with the coconut flour my mom sent from the US. Didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped for, which caused me to "tweak" things a bit, and things got worse and then....my not so sane self took over and for the millionth time this week Chris gave me that look that says "Who are you and what the hell have you done with my Wahz?" (Wahz--Chris' nickname for me)

Yeah.

Note to self: Do not attempt cooking when psychoself is lurking in the shadows, ready to have a nervous breakdown over every little imperfection!

So now, hours later, I'm writing this blogpost so that one more thing can be crossed off my list of "Excuses to use in order to procrastinate from working on NaNoWriMo". My work-in-progress is open, as is my NaNoWriMo profile with my word count. They are staring at me, mocking me for ignoring them for the past week. Since when did text files and word counts get so mouthy?

I swear though, readers of my blog, I WILL make progress on my wordcount today! If for no other reason than I don't want to be a whole week behind...and I'm having a wisdom tooth taken out tomorrow. I know, 2 teeth out within a week of each other? Bit masochistic of me, but I'm terribly impatient and would rather it all be done and over with as soon as possible.

Words people, I need words.

Today is technically my 3rd day of NaNoWriMo! So far today I haven't written a thing for it, although I have been writing other things. I'm trying to get everything done so I cannot come up with any more reasons to procrastinate, since we all know that procrastination and I are like, BFF. *snort*

I got a little over 2,000 words written the first day, none yesterday because I opted for sleep rather than writing, and because I knew that today I'd be at the dentist getting a tooth pulled and then be an invalid for a few days. And what better thing to do when trying to ignore cotton stuffed in your mouth than write, right? Hah! Well, the dentist's secretary called at like 7:45 am to tell me the dentist was home sick and we'd have to reschedule for tomorrow! Good news is I can now eat the soba peanut noodle thing I plan to make with the fresh asparagus living in my fridge. The bad news is I have one more day to mope about having to go to the dentist. It will be fine, really. I have this one pulled this week, and the bloody broken wisdom tooth to get out next week! I see lots of mushy food in my future... *sighs*

Anyhow, so I'd better get to writing, once I make lunch/dinner. I get diazepam before the procedure tomorrow, so if my post tomorrow seems rather odd, you'll know why! Combined with a certain other medication I'm on it may make me pretty entertaining, or sleepy, we shall see. Last time I took it (before an MRI) I was fine, just didn't give a shit I was in a tiny tunnel. I got a bit giggly and dizzy afterwards though. The dizziness can stay away, vertigo would be about the only thing that would kill my NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo writing!

Is it all over yet?

I am a "Doubting Thomas" type. No matter how much evidence you present me with, I still have an inner cynic in the back of my mind going "Yeah, but....". To be honest, it drives me batty, however I can see how in some circumstances it's a good trait to have, so I strive to make peace with that part of myself.

But OMG people, it is overactive in this whole election thing. I can read all sorts of articles about how Obama has a significant lead and McCain's ratings are dropping and part of me hangs onto that as proof that my hope of this election ending with Obama in the White House is not in vain. And then the voice starts rambling on about how it could all just be a ploy to make us overconfident and that we know the vote has been stolen before, so who's to say it won't happen again this year. So I pace, and fret, and my nails are long gone. We're in the homestretch people, in little more than a week we will (hopefully) know the outcome of this election! And damn it, this HAS to turn out better than 4 years ago because I don't know if I can psychologically recover if it doesn't.

But oh the things a week could bring... *shudders* See! There I go again! Meh! Okay, time to beat that part of my brain into submission with some humor.

SNL was in a bit of a scramble this weekend because Amy Poehler went into labor and gave birth to a healthy baby boy hours before the broadcast! This week the joke is on Biden. LOL



This one is not really political, but for some reason I just can't stop laughing at it!

Odds and Ends

I woke up to news of Colin Powell endorsing Obama so that was a nice boost to my morning! I don't think it makes this an ace to win, but I'm glad he had the balls to join others of his party in making an endorsement for Obama, and his added commentary on the McCain campaign's turn for the worse was needed IMO. I think Powell has witnessed the same thing the rest of us have, a man we used to have respect for turn into someone who will do anything to get his way...it's sad.

In other news. I broke Chris' favorite bowl this morning while washing dishes, along with a huge glass mixing bowl and small rice dish. They were nested one inside the other and I knocked over the whole stack while trying to move them from one spot to the other. The whole mess crashed into the floor at my feet, I'm actually really lucky I didn't end up with my foot sliced open since they were quite big pieces of glass (thick bowls). I am SUCH a fucking klutz I swear. So I shrieked as I dropped them, then burst into tears and started cussing hysterically, which caused Chris to come running from the back of the flat to make sure I was okay. Of course I felt SOOO horrible because Chris' favorite bowl was handmade by the pottery club here in thanks for Chris doing some computer work for them, so it's irreplaceable. =/ Being the calm, sane, zen-like person in the house, Chris asked if I was okay, and when I instead kept rambling on about how sorry I was, said "Ah well, these things happen." then proceeded to help me pick up the mess (and ultimately banned me from touching it because a shard cut the back of my finger). Where do calm people like this come from and how the hell did I end up with one??

Oh, and I'm ridiculously addicted to playlist.com since the New Zealand music download scene is SO shitty that they don't have any music subscription service and I refuse to pay iTunes NZ almost $2 per song because I think they are screwing NZlanders over just because they can. So fuck you iTunes, I'll just stay tied to the damn computer to hear my music! Between that and the price of CDs here (well over $20 for most music) I'm just going to keep on with my no new music buying strike here. I MIGHT give in and buy some CDs done by indie NZ artists before we move, but other than that, nope!

What It's Like

I can't get over the "woman's life" air-quotes bull shit from last night's debate. To me, it was a glaring example of what I feel a lot of people in this world lack, UNDERSTANDING and COMPASSION.

For the last two weeks this song has been playing through my mind every day. Every day. I remember when it came out vividly because I was still a "pro-life, anti-abortion Christian". However, I was deeply struggling with the things that I'd been taught were "absolutely wrong", like homosexuality, sex before marriage, and abortion. I listened to the lyrics in this song and they really, really got to me. For an instant I was that girl, being ambushed by protesters while trying to get to the clinic, agonising over the choice I was left to make by the "man" who helped me get into this situation. Then I thought about a woman that was raped and how she would feel, pregnant with the child of her attacker. Or a young girl barely past puberty, her womb violated and impregnated by her father, uncle, the guy next door.

In putting on their shoes and walking for a minute, it all became so clear. What right to we have to judge that which most of us will never have to go through? What right do we have to take away their rights to their bodies? If it were me, would I want people to make that choice for me? NO.

And there you have it, the shift....that moment when the earth shifts beneath you and you know without a doubt that your perspective has been forever altered and you can't go back to the way you were before.

I sincerely wish people would take a moment to step outside their comfort zone and put on the shoes of another in a situation much different than the one they live in. Then maybe, just maybe they could imagine what it's like.

Is there such a thing as blog fright?

"Do one thing every day that scares you." -Eleanor Roosevelt

That quote has been running through my mind for the past 20 minutes as I sit here staring at the empty text box on my screen. From the previous posts in this blog I'm sure anyone can tell I'm not the type that never has much to say, so the sudden loss of words has been a bit puzzling to say the least.

And then it hit me.

I have stage fright! Errr, or blog fright (if there is such a thing).

Usually I have no problem coming up with something to ramble about, but that's because not many people read my blog and most of the few that do I know personally, so having them read my writing is no big deal. But while trying to write this post it suddenly occurred to me that since I've decided to try the "post every day for a month" thing, once I'm added to the blogroll other people might stop by to have a read! Don't get me wrong, that's cool, I love to read other's blogs and have them respond to mine (I blog elsewhere on occasion with more readers), but somehow this is different.

I know it seems silly to have stage fright over such a thing, but since those kind of fears aren't rational to begin with, it is what it is. Standing on a stage about to give a speech is one of the only things that consistently leaves me speechless!

Surely it's just a passing thing, but 'til it goes I'll just have to do what they say to do when staring out at the mass of people before you:

Picture you all in your underwear. ;-P

Lessons learned the hard way

I took this picture standing in the brush that stretched along the beach. What do you suppose was running through my head? "Wow, what an amazing view, I'm so lucky to be here soaking in this moment!" Mmmm...nope. Try more like "Hmmm, wonder how far off sunset is. We told the manager at the motel we'd be checking in soon, I bet we're still 30 minutes out, we've got to get on the road. I think there's a beach in Westport someone was raving about on that discussion board, I should go catch a sunset photo from there, it might be even better than this one!"

So we hopped in the car and set off for Westport. Me sitting in the passenger seat, agitated that we weren't there already, wondering what the other beach would look like, hoping the proprietors of the motel wouldn't be annoyed if we were a few minutes off schedule. Chris quietly trying to drive down the country road without hitting any stray cows. Oh yeah, and that tiny voice in the back of my head that was throwing a fit because we left the beach and were headed away from the sunset. It wanted to stay there, set up the tripod, and patiently wait for the sun to drop even with the horizon so it could capture the perfect sunset shot. But I had plans damn it, a travel checklist to adhere to, and a rumored great beach to get to before the sun set!

When we saw the clouds moving in over the mountains start to glow pink I knew in the pit of my stomach I'd made the wrong decision. I could feel that "oh you stupid idiot!" panic start to set in as my eyes scanned the roadside looking for any clue as to how far we had to go to reach Westport. 5 kilometers later we passed a little town called Carters Beach and a side road that I could see might have led out to the beach, but I didn't want to ask Chris to stop the car and turn around and risk that I might have been wrong. Glancing in the rear view mirror was painful, the sun was setting faster than I thought it would, clouds aflame in hot pink, deep orange drifting across the sky, it was stunning, and I kicked myself again. 10 kilometers more and we were in Westport. But wait, where was the beach? Down the center of town Chris drove, no beach in sight. We paused long enough to get our bearings and then headed in the direction of the water, hoping we'd hit the beach in time.

We never did find the "spectacular beach" of Westport. The road ended at a lighthouse type building with writing on the road reminding people to not stop and park their cars there. But there were 6-7 cars lining the road, stopped to watch the sunset. I grabbed the camera and took a picture in hopes of catching the hot pink color in the clouds while my eyes welled up with tears. To top it all off, the car decided it didn't want to start again, and we spent several minutes practically holding our breath, begging it to start. All I could think of is calling AA sitting in our rental car, stopped in a "no stopping" area at the tip of a tiny roadway stuck out in the water! Thankfully, it started after we gave it a few minutes, apparently it doesn't like to start right after you shut it off, so we had several "Please start, oh please, please, please start!" moments before we turned the thing back in.

Why did I leave that other beach? I have over a dozen photographs even better than the one I posted above (like my new header for example!), the rocks, the water, the foliage, the way it faced the setting sun, it was PERFECT. And I hopped in the car and sped away from it. Why? Because I wasn't in the moment. I was consumed with all the other things going on in my head, the perceived expectations of others waiting on me, the vague promise of a better beach elsewhere. Why didn't I stop when my gut told me to? Why didn't I ask Chris to turn around and go back? It would have been so easy, I'd have gotten the shot! Why? Because I felt like I had made a decision and so I needed to follow it through and stick with it.

I have a secret. Deep down within me I am an incredibly random and spontaneous person! I delight over simple things like the smoothness of a rock deposited on the beach by the ocean, the salty crispiness of perfectly done shoestring fries, the way a loved one's eyes twinkle when they laugh, packing an overnight bag and renting a hotel room in a town 2 hours away spur of the moment, just to enjoy a different bed, no internet, and a night with nothing else to do but get lost in Chris' arms. But there is something that keeps that person inside me tied up, pushed down, and gasping for air. Sometimes she rarely gets to see the light of day. I catch glimpses of her from time to time but for the most part the other "me" rules. The practical me. The one that tries to juggle it all, that makes plans, lists, appointments. The one that obsesses over the most minute details, who paces when we don't leave the house on time, that panics if it looks like we might be late for an appointment. The one that struggles with panic attacks when things seem to be spinning out of her control, the one who is so caught up in the past and the future that she fails to cherish the present.

I don't know how to let the me imprisoned inside me out in the same way I don't know how to make the other me CHILL OUT. But I know I've got to figure it all out because days are passing me by that I'm not living because I'm too busy caught up in the struggle between the two. And I'm tired of learning painful lessons the hard way because she makes me drown out the real me, the one that goes with her intuition, the one that whispers to me the right thing even as I turn away from her.

I learned a painful lesson that sunset day. It's never too late to turn around! We cannot let our fears of admitting we are wrong rule our lives so much that we "stay the course" all the while knowing within us we shouldn't. So the next time I'm in that car headed the wrong way I hope I have the guts to stop the car and turn around. Sometimes we drive away in search of the very thing that was there in front of us, we're just too blind to see it.

I'm 26 for a moment...

Life is such an odd thing. The older I get the more I realise that time passes so fast and yet we still will it to go faster. When I was 9, my 10th birthday couldn't come fast enough because then I'd finally be allowed to get my ears pierced. Then I couldn't wait to be 13 because I'd be a "teen" then! I counted down the days until my 16th birthday, convinced that the closer I got to adulthood the better life would be, when that didn't materialise at 16 I figured by 18 I'd be all set for college and getting out of my parents house. At 18 that didn't happen as planned and I was ready to be 21 because I thought by then I'd have my path in life all sorted out!

On my 21st birthday I decided life was hell and I really wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, or at least fast forward through my life a good bit and come out once things sorted themselves out because surely at 23 things would be better! At 23 I forced myself to leave my parent's house to go visit family friends in Florida and stayed there for almost 6 months, trying desperately to get something moving in my life because I thought for sure I was doomed to be forever stuck there, then ended up actually going back there to live and thought I'd really fucked up then. I think 23 was one of the longest years of my life, but also the one I changed the most in, although 24 comes in a close second.

By my 25th birthday I was engaged, moved to a foreign country, and married! Talk about time moving fast! I thought my 25th year would find me in the US, starting college. You see, I have this anxiety over college. I didn't get to go when I was 18, and in hindsight that isn't such a bad thing because who I am now is quite far from who I was then, and at least I didn't take up 4 years getting a degree I'd never use. But it was okay, I figured I could still squeeze in a degree before I was 30, not too bad. Things never quite go to plan though, and now halfway through 26 I'm still in NZ, planning our next step in life. By the time I start school I'll be 27, so that degree won't come until I'm in my 30's and that does not make me very happy. I feel like suddenly life is rushing by at a breakneck speed and if I blink I'm going to miss the chance to do what I want to do. So I plan, fret, worry, obsess, plan some more, pace and I think I've about driven myself crazy. I feel like I'm constantly trying to play catch up with life.

Why do we do this? I know I'm not the only one to have this problem. When we're young we're in such a hurry to grow up that we spend our time pushing forward, trying not to think about how young we are, constantly fighting to be seen as older, wiser, more mature, anything to not be the kids we are. Then we find ourselves in our mid 20's and people are telling us we've got to get our career going, find a great person to "settle down" with, we get the grandkids question, and it seems as if everyone around us is pitching in to keep pushing us forward, always looking for the next thing, the next item on the checklist. Spouse? Check! 2.5 kids? Check! 9-5 office job? Check! Career path in place? Check! House and the debt that comes with it? Check! 2 cars? Check!

On and on we go, speeding through the list, becoming the people that society has convinced us we want to be until we hit our 40's and then all the sudden we dig our heels in and try to bring the ride to a screeching halt! How the fuck did we get close to half a century old? Where did our life go? We had dreams! Things we wanted to do, places we wanted to go, and now what of them? We have a house to pay off, kids in high school that we've gotta put through college, we barely recognise ourselves in the mirror, and that 9-5 job? We've always secretly hated it. Is it any wonder why so many people go through a "mid-life crisis" and try to scramble back and do all the things that they shoulda/coulda/wanted to do when they were in their 20's but they were too consumed with getting to the next goalpost to take the time to do it?

I've often wondered if the US is the only place that has the "mid-life crisis" problem, because your 20's often go a bit different in more British countries. Over here it's not uncommon to find people in their late 20's or early 30's in school still. Taking 6 months or a year off to travel after high school, after college, and even between jobs is not unusual either. My sister in law took 3-4 months off of work and toured parts of South America! She had the leave saved up, here you get 4 weeks leave per year, so that wasn't too hard to save up, and she's a year older than me, not married. Here Chris and I were considered a bit "young" getting married when we did, while in the US people figured I'd never get married since at 23 I had no prospects!

As much as I worry about spending the next 4, 6, 10 years in school pursuing some degree to get me closer to some career aspirations I have, more than anything else I fear being that person that has a mid-life crisis at 40 because I feel like I never gave myself permission to let go and LIVE while I didn't have the burden of a mortgage, kids to create a stable home life for, and a business to carry.

I am convinced that when we are 70 we look back and instead of thinking "I should have spent more time at work." we are instead wishing that we'd lived in the moment, taken more risks, spent more time with the people we loved instead of worrying about all the things that in the end don't matter so much. Several times I've had people in their 60's and 70's tell me to enjoy being young, take risks, live life to the fullest, and just go for things instead of obsessing over them because before I know it, the chance will have passed me by. But how? They never tell me HOW! Which brings me to my next blog topic---letting go.

Conundrum

What do you do when you realise an opinion you've held for a long time is not quite what you thought it was? One that you've taken inside you and made a part of your very identity? How do you learn to let it go? Why do I end up with such vexing conundrums?

For a while now I've been wrestling with something so deeply ingrained in me that even debating it within my own mind feels like blasphemy. Back and forth I go until I've practically driven myself mad. When I can't contain it inside any longer I finally end up talking it over with a trusted someone else. It's funny how even voicing doubt over a personal opinion feels like you're being unfaithful to yourself!

This is not the first deep issue I've wrestled with in this way. I can replay in my mind's eye the times where I've felt the earth shift from beneath me as something I've based my whole self on crumbles to pieces. They say ignorance is bliss and they (whomever they are) are so right. The more I know the more I realise I don't know. The more I see the more I want to close my eyes and yet know I can't. I know too much and yet not enough.

The rational side of me demands concrete answers to the issues I wrestle with. The intuitive part of me knows that those absolutes aren't there. It's like there's a whole group of people inside my mind sitting at a round table and they are all parts of me. One by one they climb up onto the table in an attempt to dominate my thoughts and drown the others out. But it doesn't work. Someone drags them down and another clamors to be heard above the throng.

In the end I'll get things as sorted out as I can. I know the choice I have to make, but all those other parts of me are still rebelling over it. They all want to be right, they all have their evidence, it's like there are fucking lobbyists in my mind! *snort*

Oh how my INFPness gets on my nerve sometimes.

I'm a bad, bad blogger...

Yes, I am. I'm neglectful of my blog. In my defense though, I think of things to post here all the time, I just never actually get it typed! Sad excuse, I know...

Really, this blog is me trying to keep track of all the odd things I get up to health-wise and life-wise. So, how about an update?

Health-wise: Doctors suck. Insurance companies suck more. After deliberating over the "pay out of pocket to play Russian Roulette with the Endocrinologists listed in the phone book" I've decided maybe my best bet is to save my money and go see the "Holy Grail" of doctors when I get back to the US. Granted, that'll be a while from now, but hey, if the medical community as a whole can ignore my problems and keep playing pass the buck, I suppose I can keep coping with it on my own for a little while longer and save myself the humiliation, frustration, and about $360 per doctor's visit! *big grin*

So, I've decided to monitor my blood sugars at home, especially post meal. I know my fasting glucose is never in the "bad" range, but the more reading I've done, the more I've learned that the current "medical guidelines" are missing tons of women with diabetes because while their fasting glucose is normal, their post meal glucose levels are too high, so damage is already being done to their body and they don't know it. We really have something wrong in our medical system when something like 50% of people diagnosed with diabetes will be diagnosed with a diabetic neuropathy at the same time they get the big "D" diagnosis. That means they've had it for years and it's been slowly destroying their body while their doctors have being saying all is well.

I refuse to be that woman. PCOS and it's lovely weight gain puts me at a high risk, family history at an even higher risk, and a previous Glucose Tolerance Test that had me sitting on the edge of "prediabetes" means that odds are with no treatment I'll be diabetic within the next 6-10 years. Except, we don't know how long I've been this way, and if I've had these things since I was 19-20 (which is what I'm quite sure of) at 26 I'm getting rather close to that 10 year mark. Too close for comfort. Now, the elliptical machine in my living room paired with my already healthy eating habits carb and portion wise are fighting back that risk, but with my hormonal profile the way it is nothing is going to help this as much as the medical treatment I need that everyone is too busy twiddling their thumbs to provide.

I should clarify that I'm not bitter, just tired, and frustrated. Both for myself, and others I know of who are getting shafted by the medical system. In the last month I've heard of a friend whose 2 yr old baby died due to gross medical negligence, and another friend whose uncle was diagnosed with terminal cancer, thanks to a doctor who didn't take anything seriously and let his illness to get much worse without proper treatment.

I'm not dead, or dying (at least not today, far as I know) so I think I have an obligation to throw a fit for those that can't anymore. Something has to change. I don't know how I'll change it, but I'll figure something out.

5 Fears and Dreams

5 Fears and Dreams

If you know me well, average, or not at all, this is for you. Post 5 fears then 5 dreams of yours and let me know when you post them so I can read!

5 Fears

1. Driving. I know, sounds crazy, but it's true! Driving scares me. It has taken me years but I think I've finally come to the root of it--I can't control the other cars. I don't worry about my own driving so much as I worry about all the other people on the road, doing stupid things, driving drunk, or high, swerving into my lane, changing lanes without signaling, cutting me off, etc... Since I can't control everything in that environment I don't feel safe, and when I don't feel safe I panic...which leads me to my second fear...

2. Panic attacks. I have them on occasion, wish I didn't. My fear is having one in public and not being able to get to a "safe zone" before I come unraveled. Odds are most people that know me have been around me on the verge or right smack dab in the middle of a panic attack, and never realised it. I'm good at hiding them and controlling them, but I can only hold it all in for so long them I have to decompress, and I prefer to do that in private. A "safe zone" can be a person, or place, something familiar where I can control what is around me enough to breathe again. Makes life interesting for sure!

3. Loving and losing. I fear allowing myself to become attached to something, someplace, or someone because all too often once I become attached and allow myself to believe it is truly there, it goes away, mostly from someone taking it away. I can't trust that things will be there tomorrow, especially when that thing is something really good in my life. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. So I live in the moment fearing the future because experience has taught me that when I really, truly connect with and love something it leaves or gets taken away. Now, that doesn't stop me from becoming attached (unfortunately I'm too feelings oriented to manage that), I am deeply attached to people, places, and things in my life. But when they go away it leaves a gaping wound in me that I grieve over and have to find a way to heal. I really think a lot of people have this fear but pretend they don't.

4. Claustrophobia. Whether by walls in a small room, or people in a crowded store, I fear being closed in. I've read that it is a phobia that can be inherited, and since I know several people in my family with the same issue I don't doubt that it is. Even really tight clothing can bring on the suffocating feeling. I'll still go to malls, go into a walk in freezer, get on elevators, and all those things because I refuse to live by my own limitations, but every now and then I misjudge whether I'll be okay with something and attempt something my inner self wasn't prepared for and BAM, panic attack. Meh.

5. Limitations. My biggest fear by far is being limited by my fears to the point I become a hermit one day. I have far more fears than listed here (and anyone who knows me can name a few of them I bet!) So I cry, bite my nails, breathe deeply, and suffer through panic attacks in order to keep that from happening. I make myself capture bugs and put them outside instead of killing them (all the while chanting "eww, eww, eww"), I stand at lookout areas and remind myself to not look down and everything will be okay (and I hopefully won't get vertigo), I love things with every fibre of by being even though I think they're gonna go away (because what is life without love?), I go to dinners and meet strangers all the while freaking out in my head (social anxiety), all in an effort to keep from living my biggest fear of all. In that respect I think this particular fear is a healthy thing, it keeps me doing as many things as possible.

Now for the happy good thing! 5 Dreams

1. I dream of being a counselor/therapist. Whether that is as a life coach, or sex therapist, or psychologist, or relationship counselor, I dream of helping people through the problems they struggle with everyday. I believe that when struggling through trials in life, most of us don't need someone to "fix" the issue, we just need someone there who will hold our hand while we walk our path. We have wisdom and truth within us to face our problems, we just sometimes need someone to remind us to trust in ourselves, breathe, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Listening to others problems and talking through their worries and frustrations is second nature to me, so I really feel I'm meant to use that gift in a way that benefits others.

2. I dream of home. Of having my things around me, my people around me, of having a place that I can call home that I feel settled in. Doesn't mean I have to stay there forever, I think really "home" is just a state of heart/soul. I'm closer than I've ever been, so I think that the rest of the pieces will eventually fall in place until it all resonates within and without. I have an emotional/spiritual place that feels like home, now I'm looking for a physical space that I can call my own....and put earth friendly, non-latex paint on the walls!!!

3. I dream about the future and living my life to the fullest. I wonder who I'll be as I get older, what profession I'll be pursuing, what country I'll be living in, who I'll have around me. I dream of living way past what most people do, of being that crazy aunt and eventually great aunt that has so many stories to tell and those bits of wisdom that make things click. I wonder if we'll adopt a child and if I'll be a mother, if I'll be a grandmother. I want to be one of those people that makes 50 look like the new 30 and 90 look like the new 50. LOL!!! I'm bound and determined to make sure those that I love see that time as well. I want to have lots of friends around me that tell stories of all the things I got up to when I was younger.

4. I dream strange dreams. Some are really vivid, others are just impressions. Some are premonitions and come true, others haven't come true yet but I know they will. Some I wake up laughing about, others people wake me out of because I'm screaming and crying. I know some people have very calm dream lives, but I'm not one of them! Often times I can't remember my dreams when I wake up, but I'll get flashes of them later that stir my memory and they come flooding back. I dream of places or events and when they happen I get that strong rush of deja vu and know that I've been there before...just maybe not physically. On occasion I have dreams about people that I feel I have to tell them about...and I hate that because they are usually warnings and it just makes everyone uncomfortable in general.

5. I dream of better days for those around me, whether they be friends or people I don't know who are affected by tragedies half a world away. I dream of progress being made in politics, religion and the global consciousness so that we affect a positive change in the world around us and ease some of the pain that others are in every day. I suppose that's the ultimate dream for an idealist type--to live in an ideal world. But I don't think an ideal world means no pain and has to be perfection and roses and sunshine everyday. There is startling beauty in the imperfection of many things in life...and it is by working through things that we learn to appreciate that beauty. I just dream that we all will one day be a helping hand to one another in an effort towards unification of humanity in general. We all have more in common than we like to think...and we can all do things that make a world of difference in the lives of those around us, if we only open our eyes and look for the opportunity.

Sweet! That's done...now it's YOUR turn!