Monday, June 16, 2003

Cry Me A River

God, I'm tired...but I'm alive and that's all that matters.

Today I was trapped at work for a bit as torrential rains fell and turned the road below the clinic into a rushing river. It rained all morning and I honestly thought that I would be spending the night at the treatment center with no heat and worst of all...no food! I kept eyeing my coworkers, wondering who would be the first to be cannibalized in the instance that we were stranded there for several days. I finally decided that Joey, a very quick-witted young gentleman who developed a limp due to a spinal injury a few years ago, would be my best bet. Easiest to catch. :) I mentioned it to him, audibly musing what "leg of Joey' must taste like.

A few of the patients were stranded with us and they ended up sleeping downstairs in the lobby. For the most part everyone stayed calm. One patient and his girlfriend decided to brave the road in their blue Mustang...a few minutes after their attempt we saw the car abandoned with water rushing all around it. The couple made their way back to the center physically unscathed, but received quite the tongue lashing from their respective counselors upon their return.

I mostly sat in my office, attempting to work by the light of the tiny cherry scented candle that one of my young female patients left me upon her transfer to the clinic in Huntington. If I didn't keep busy I was going to flip out or fall asleep. And I was getting paid to be there, after all.

At about 11:00am the rain let up a bit and Eric went out scouting in his Jeep to check the road conditions. He returned at 11:45am stating that we should be able to reach the Interstate via the town of Big Chimney. So at noon, after receiving leave from the Program Director to head home, I jumped in my car and followed Eric off of the hill.

The road was covered with shallow pools of water about every 20 yards and about a mile down the road we found a bridge, with the asphalt all buckled and broken, nearly ready to collapse. We had no choice but to cross it and luckily we made it. After reaching the Interstate, one couldn't even tell that there was a state of emergency at all. The city of St. Albans looks as peaceful as ever...just very damp from the heavy rains. It was sort of surreal and hard to believe that just 20 miles in the opposite direction people's homes, businesses, and roads were all being destroyed by raging floodwaters. Scary shit, man.

A Change

I’ve been avoiding this post for a while now. But I can’t hide forever.

Ben and I separated on Memorial Day weekend. Last weekend I told him that I didn't think it would be healthy for us to continue our relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend. Now we are in the process of learning how to let go of the past relationship and morph it into a friendship.

We had a very difficult, but beneficial talk last night about the whole thing. Ben has been very unaccepting of the whole situation and didn't understand my reasoning, and in fact, felt that I didn't use reason at all in my decision. There's reason here...but also a ton of emotion. You can't escape emotion when dealing with matters of the heart.

Last night Ben asked me to explain my perspective and reasons for breaking up to him. I explained that after fucking up in the beginning, I finally came to my sense and tried to make things work. I decided that I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life and I put everything I had into the relationship. Actually, we both put every bit of ourselves into our relationship to the point that we each lost a part of our individual identities and we became very unhealthily dependent upon each other. Instead of Christina & Ben we were ChristinaandBen...one entity...rarely apart...hardly existing without the other half.

Ben's depression kicked in and grew pretty black as he was trying to deal with our situation as well as the imminent loss of his father to prostate cancer. He made attempts, that he felt were attainable at the time, but maintains that his mental state limited him from actually succeeding. I did my best to be understanding and supportive, however I am only human and I know that I failed at times and instead became critical and nit-picky. I expected him to maintain employment and pay his share of the bills in a consistent manner while also dividing the housework with me. He was unable to do this.

For a while I accepted this, blaming myself mostly for his mental state. I tried to be supportive and tried not to push him before he was ready. ( I know I didn't do a great job of the not pushing thing, but again, I'm only human.) I eventually began mentally tearing myself down for my past transgressions and I ripped myself to the point of zero self-esteem.

In October of 2001 I hit a breaking point. There was not enough money in the checking account to pay the bills and my check would only add a little more. We had gone through my entire savings because he had no income, but I still continued to pay the bills. I finally broke down and issued an ultimatum that if things didn't change that our relationship would end. (I didn't put a time limitation on this threat.) Somehow this low allowed me to finally start to forgive myself. I realized that I had reached the bottom and could go no further. I simply couldn't continue to tear myself down and still survive. So I started to forgive myself.

Things got better for a while...some things stayed a bit improved. However, for the most part, old patterns reemerged. The more that I forgave myself and stopped laying blame on myself for everything, the more I found that I grew angry at Ben everytime he did something that I felt wronged me. In other words, I started laying blame and anger where blame and anger was due.

Finally in January of 2003 I stated simply to Ben that our relationship would not last out the year, maybe the summer, if things did not change and soon. He acknowledged me and promised to change. Attempts were made in February and changes were made in March and April. The unfortunate truth is that I had mostly lost the will to try by the end of February...and all the little things that he changed didn't matter anymore. And when he would point out the fact that he had cleaned the living room or washed the dishes, I would only feel frustrated with him, thinking, "Why should I congratulated you for something that you should have been doing all along?" It eventually became too much and it all came gushing out the middle of May.

I understand that Ben has been trying for years. I understand that he has been in an extremely difficult position, having his girlfriend hurt him in such a way and then losing his father and grandfather in the same year. Perhaps I am not patient or understanding enough. Perhaps I am unreasonable. Perhaps this is all very unfair. I cannot change my past failings, though I have tried to for years. I wish I could give him his father and grandfather back...but I can't. I have tried to be understanding and loving and patient and supportive. I did my best to be the partner that he needed, just as he did his best to be the partner that I needed. Somewhere in there we missed and failed each other and for that I am sorry. I would much rather not be walking this path that I am on if there were any other way to be true to myself.

I admit that I made a mistake in the breakup. This is the one thing that I regret. Initially, when we broke up I should have left it at that, but I still had the tiniest sliver of hope that my heart could change if some of the stress was alleviated. So I asked him to move out and we agreed to date. Honestly, neither one of us wanted to let go because we did and do still love each other very much. Once I was alone and could clear my mind to think, I realized that I did indeed feel less stressed, more peaceful, and happier. I also noticed that my heart did not change when I was near him...I realized that nothing he could do at this time would change my heart because I had lost respect for him. I knew that I needed to gain that back before I could ever love him the way I needed to to plan on being his sole companion and wife. So I had to let him go. I realize that it would have been much more fair to him to just do the breakup rather than raise the hope that we might continue to date. But I've never done this before...I don't know what I'm doing. The last thing I want in the world is to hurt him...

We had a good talk last night out in the middle of the street in front of Matt and Cyndi's house...until half past midnight. He had gone over and over the situation stating that it had been a waste...that it had been all for nothing. After our talk we both realized that even though the outcome was not what we had planned or hoped for, it had not been a waste. We have grown so much together over the past 6 years. We have learned so much. We have become better people. We have established a friendship that will never fade. We have established a friendship and love with our circle of friends that is very much like the bond a family shares. We are better people because of knowing and loving each other. How can anyone ever call that a waste?

One thing remains and always will. I love you, Ben. I truly do and I want you to be happy, but I'm not the woman who can do that right now...and I don't know if I'll ever be her. We need to become strong as individuals again...we need to get ourselves back. And who knows? Maybe years down the road we'll fall in love again. But I won't pursue a relationship with you until I feel that it's right. You are my best friend and I never want that to change. That's why we have to work on that now and transform our relationship from one beautiful, but fading romance into a beautiful, vibrant, and very much living friendship.

Tuesday, June 10, 2003

One and all may rejoice in the news that I've finally recovered from my gastrointestinal difficulties! Huzzah!

I just finished a two day training in crisis intervention and prevention today. We did some role plays and skits and stuff. Pretty entertaining. I got to be belligerent to Cyndi while roleplaying as a patient...I called her a dirty bitch from hell and said "fuck" a lot. (hehehe)

My program director asked me today if I wanted to take her place at a seminar on Thursday in Morgantown, WV and I agreed. I'm going up with two other staff members, Kevin and Val. I suppose it's a good thing that she asked me to go. It makes me a little nervous honestly. :) I find myself wondering, "Why me?' Eric is constantly saying that I'm on the KA Team or Kiss Ass Team, but I don't kiss ass goddamnit!!! I'm nice to fucking everybody all the fucking time, miserable sons of bitches!!!!!!!!

Anyway, it makes me wonder if she's eyeing me for advancement in the company. While I know that should feel excited at that prospect, it makes me a bit nervous. I guess that just shows my lack of confidence in certain areas. Be positive! Keep it together! Keep it together!!

Well...I'll write more later when I can organize my thoughts.

Chris G. out.


Wednesday, June 04, 2003

I've been busying myself with cleaning up the apartment. Sunday night I finished moping all of the floors and making the bathrooms spotless. All of this effort only to blow chunks everywhere on Monday night. Yup, that's right. Projectile vomitting. Yummy. :) Apparently I contracted this nasty stomach virus from Ben over the weekend and I ended up spewing bits of my 6 inch Subway Turkey sub all over the downstairs bathroom. After I puked I was so pissed that my bathroom was dirty after I had just cleaned it, so I spent 2 hours cleaning it again. A little psycho? Maybe.

I've been nauseous for the past two days...and counting. Yesterday I was actually able to eat and keep down a Biggie Fry from Wendy's and today a Baked Potato. I'm hungry now but I'm honestly afraid to eat because I feel only slightly nauseated right now. Why fuck with it if it's still sort of working?

But I must thank Ben. Since I've been ill I've lost 7 lbs. I'm back down to 190. After I'm well, I'll just have to hit the gym every evening and melt away 30 some more lbs.

Let's see...anything exciting happen at work recently? Of course! There's always excitement at the methadone clinic!!!!

Item #1: This chick had a seizure last week and we had to deal with that. She claimed that her boyfriend had been beating her so we were trying to place her in a local women's shelter, and BAM! she falls out of her chair and goes into a stress induced seizure. We called 911 and kept her from choking or hurting herself. After she recovered and the paramedics were checking her out, she asked us to make her abusive boyfriend, who was still waiting for her in the car, leave. So Eric and I walked out and thugged him. After a few minutes of reassuring the guy that we weren't holding her against her will, etc., he finally left. Excitement.

Item #2: My supervisor, a 350 lb. man who looks like either Fat Bastard from Austin Powers or the Titan of the Wizard of Oz Munchkins and who likes to be called by the nickname Lumpy, was fired today. He was suspended last week for making some harrassing comments a few months ago to one of the nurses about her affair with one of the male counselors. The nurse is or was sleeping with the male counselor. The male counselor is sleeping with a female counselor. So Lumpy asked the nurse a few months ago if she liked the way the female counselor's vagina tasted. (Basically he was saying that when you kiss someone you're kissing everyone...or everything that that person has kissed.) I agree that this is a really crude comment, but you must understand that this type of humor runs rampant at the clinic. The staff, for the most part, is like a huge group of friends and jokes are thrown back and forth. This comment made by Lumpy was a joke and was taken as a joke at the time it was said. However, the nurse got angry with him at some point and decided to try and get him fired. And I think the thing between her and the male counselor fizzled out and she was pissed. So he was suspended and he was demoted to being a simple counselor again. But today he got the dreaded "Box". Well, I liked Lumpy. He was a good supervisor and he will be missed.

I honestly don't know if there's more drama happening in the life of the staff or the patients. :) Sad, isn't it?

Sunday, June 01, 2003

The past two days have been easier. I'm adjusting. And it actually feels like a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Now I get to figure out who I am, what I want, and where I'm going.

I saw Bruce Almighty tonight and it was pretty fucking funny. I don't think I've laughed out loud that much in a movie since American Pie. It gets a little slower and sappy toward the ending...a bit predictable, but nonetheless very entertaining. :)

I was thinking about going to see Wrong Turn...you know, the movie where some teenagers get lost in West Virginia and a bunch of crazed hillbillies attack them. Being born and raised in West Virginia, I can really relate. I mean there isn't a week that goes by that I don't get attacked by a pack of crazed, inbred mountain men.

Thursday, May 29, 2003

This living alone stuff is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Ben and I went and worked out at the Nautilus yesterday afternoon. After that we grabbed a healthy Subway dinner and went shopping at Kmart. (I needed knives. Never know when you're going to need a good sharp knife to chop someone...um...er...something up.) (I bought the 14 piece Martha Stewart knife set. When has Martha ever steered me wrong in the past?)

Anyway, after Kmart we said our goodbyes and went on with our individual evenings. I came home and worked at cleaning the living room. And god was I lonely. It's hard to adjust to total silence when you're used to hearing the constant clicking of the computer keyboard. I do miss Ben...but I know that this decision that we made is the best one for both of us. We need to grow as individuals for a while. After we resolve the conflicts within ourselves maybe we can piece back our relationship. Maybe.

Tuesday, May 27, 2003

I'm not unwell...I'm just fucking crazy.

I hate PMSing. I'm at the stage right now where I'm having violent mood swings. I recognize that it's happening but I have no power to control it. One second I'm laughing and having fun and the next I'm crying and yelling at Ben and the next I'm laughing maniacally. I miss sanity.

The high stress of the events of this weekend most certainly aided in weakening my mental stability. Ben moved his stuff out on Saturday with the help of Shawn and Chris. We all then drove down to HInton and spent the night with Burnsy. Sunday morning we yanked our collective ass out of bed to go whitewater rafting on the Upper and Lower New River. That was exciting and terrifying all at once. More excitement this trip than last and not as cold. But still a little cold. Our guide flipped our raft on purpose on a Class 2 rapid. Ben and Shawn kept trying to fall out of the boat. I guess they didn't like it there.

Ben says we need to go to Taco Bell. Mmmm...Chicken Enchilada Bowl.

Friday, May 16, 2003

I saw the Matrix Reloaded yesterday with Ben and my coworkers. Overall I enjoyed it. The beginning of the film was mostly special effects with a little bit of plot. The fight scenes with Neo at the start hold no suspense. He pretty much whips 'em silly and fucks 'em stupid. There's a pretty pointless sex scene with Neo and Trinity while all the other people at Zion are attending a sort of tribal rave/dance party. The last 20 minutes of the film actually gets pretty exciting and just when it gets really interesting..."To Be Continued". Now we only have 6 months to wait to figure out what happens.
As many of you know, Ben and I have had a very turbulent relationship. Recently I have been doubting whether or not we should continue and expressed this to him. After many hours of discussion, arguing, agony, crying, and holding one another we've decided to start dating again. We're going to seperate...Ben is going to move out and we're going to try to start over in the relationship. If we are successful at rebuilding the damaged parts, we'll eventually move back in together. If we are unsuccessful, it will be easier to let go and remain friends because we won't be dealing with the pressures of living under the same roof.

Ben, we have been through hell and back. You have been my constant companion and lover. You are my best friend and I never want to lose that. Your touch in my life has helped make me the woman that I am. For the first time in a long time I have hope for us. :) I love you. Thank you for loving me.

Wednesday, May 07, 2003

I'm so tired. And depressed. And my throat hurts again.

I'm just going to go to sleep now. Bye.

Tuesday, May 06, 2003

Sometimes I think that I'd like to fade. To disappear just a little. And silently watch everything going on around me. To watch everyone living and being as they are with themselves. To watch the day unfold like it does whether anyone is watching or not.

Saturday, May 03, 2003

I'm three shots of vodka into the drinking and holding. The good news is that my tongue doesn't hurt anymore....the bad news is that the left side of my throat still hurts a bit. I really need to get some rest.

I watched my niece this morning. Everytime I'm with her she wins me over more and more. You've never witnessed anything as beautiful as a growing and unfolding life.

I saw a lady in the theater tody that had gone to watch X-Men alone. She sat in the very upper right hand corner of the theater. As I noticed her I felt a sort of pity for her. There I was surrounded by my friends and she was all alone and I thought, "How sad she must be!" And then I realized that she may very well be content with her situation and it was presumptuous of me to assume that she was miserable. A person alone can be complete and totally happy. A person surrounded by others can feel totally desolate and alone. A smile doesn't indicate happiness and vice versa. Never jump to conclusions. Never assume anything.
Ben, Ken, Shawn, Chris (Ken's bro), and I saw the second X-Men movie today. It was pretty fucking groovy. Kinda lost a little momentum there at the end but overall it was a good flick. Magneto was awesome. I'll agree with Ben that Mystique was developed a bit more in this movie and she's a pretty bad ass character. Nightcrawler kicked much ass. And Wolverine is stil as sexy and as aggressive as ever. I was impressed with Jean Gray's character this time and look forward to seeing what becomes of her in the next film. :)

I forgot to mention yesterday the fact that I had strep throat a week ago. I went to the doctor and got 7 days worth of antibiotics and I was doing well...until today. For whatever reason I still have blisters or bumps on the back of my tongue and my throat just started really hurting again today.

So tonight I decided to take shots of vodka. That always helps when you're sick, right? So far I've had three. Ken, Shawn, Ben, and Janice are upstairs drinking and watching Jackass the Movie. I think we're going to play Scrabble later. I'm sure I'll pass out in about a half hour because I got up at 3am to go to work. (when I didn't have to, of course.) So much for my grand plans of going to the club and chilling with my coworkers.

Maybe next life.

Friday, May 02, 2003

I've been a little less faithful in my posting lately due to a lack of anything amusing or interesting happening in my life. It's pretty dull these days really. I get up...go to work...come home...eat dinner...clean or do chores and then fall into the oblivion of sleep. Day after day after day.

Sometimes fun things happen at work. Like this last week I had CPR and First Aid training. I am now certified and have the ability to save someone's life if they go unconscious or stop breathing....maybe. I say maybe because it was a rather rushed class and the instructor didn't much seem to care if everyone was doing everything right or not. I was actually interested in learning this stuff so I actually paid attention...but others just slept. And their performance with the dummies showed it. So sad, really.

Anyway, fun things....um....oh yeah. As I walked up to the dummie to take my turn my earring fell out of my ear and into the dummie's open mouth. My instructor said, "We haven't gotten to the choking portion of your training yet!" My he felt very clever after that comment. Good for him.

Whenever anything interesting happens in my personal life it's usually a bad something. Like my mother's recent galbladder attack, or Ben's mother's recent low blood pressure episode, or mine and Ben's recent relationship issues. It happens that our mothers are fine and we're doing okay. Endless excitement.

But I suppose everything that happens in my personal life isn't bad. For instance I met my sister's love interest, Chriss from Boston. Chriss seems like a very intelligent and responsible individual. He's very focused on earning money right now, but that's not a bad thing, I suppose, as long as it doesn't rule his life forever. He said he was trying to make enough money so that he can buy enough real estate and eventually live off of the money he earns from rent. A good plan, I'd say. He took us out to dinner at The Chop House, which is one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, and that was fun. I understand that he currently makes about $120,000 per year at the young age of 26 working as an engineer for the US Navy. I didn't feel too bad about letting him pay for my meal. He treated my sister with affection and respect and that's more important to me than his bank roll. I want her not only to be financially secure but also to be happy. And she is happy with him. He makes her glow...and I like that. :)

My sis drove in in her new C230 Mercedes Benz Kompressor and I got to drive it. It was awesome! It memorizes your driving patterns and learns to apply extra pressure to the breaks when you need it and it corrects itself if you swerve suddenly. There's no way she should be able to wreck that car. And if she does it has 8 air bags so I think she'll survive. The stereo system had like 8 Bose speakers and a 5 disc CD changer. The computer stores all sorts of neat and useful statistics about your driving and your car's performance. Really groovy stuff. :) I learned that a Mercedes Benz may be a very expensive car, but there's a reason for that. :)

Other good stuff...my friends are in this weekend and we're going to see the second X-Men movie! Wooohooo! I'm also going to see if they're up for going to Atlantis Night club tomorrow night. Some of my boyz from work are going to be there and I wouldn't mind hanging with them for a bit...and I wouldn't mind grooving on the dance floor. It's been far too fucking long since I've danced.

I plan on describing all the fun of this weekend in detail. Until then let these words be your mantra:

I've got no strings to hold me down
To make me fret or make me frown
I had strings but now I'm free
There are no strings on me


from the Disney Movie Pinocchio

Friday, April 18, 2003

I worked at the clinic in Beckley a couple of weeks ago, which only has female counselors. I did not belong. And I did not belong because there is no cursing at the Beckley clinic.

I was in the chart room in the morning and I dropped a chart that I was holding and softly said, "Shit!" and I was met with wide eyes and gasping. I thought to myself, "Oh fuck." So I spent the rest of the day not cursing and growing more and more irritable. At the end of the day I got in my car and let out a string of non-sensical obscenities. God, did that ever feel good. :)

I learned a valuable lesson that day: Cursing has a place in my life. A few months ago I was trying to cut back on the nasty words because I thought that it wasn't very attractive for a woman to have a mouth worse than that of any typical trucker. But, hell, who am I trying to attract? Fuck it, I say. Fuck it right in it's ear.
I had an hour session today with one of my patients. He's usually very quiet but always seemed sort of aggravated underneath his pleasant demeanor. At first I thought that he was simply uncomfortable with me, but then decided that it had to run deeper than that. So today I asked him why he seemed faintly irritated under the surface all of the time. We started exploring this supressed anger and found that it led back to himself, of course, and surprisingly enough, to his wife. The patient shared things with me today that he had never before verbalized or shared with anyone else. It was a very successful session and well worth that hour of my time. As he was leaving he turned back and he thanked me. The look of appreciation in his eyes was very rewarding. Anyway...I think I'm getting better at my job.

Every day I'm learning more and more from my job and my patients. What I'm realizing now is that people often look outside themselves for something to make them happy. My patients tried to find happiness though drugs. Some people use work, sex, relationships, food, alcohol, video games, movies, etc. But happiness can't be through any outside source. I realize that I can only find happiness in and from myself. No one and nothing else can do that for me. I must make peace with myself, learn to love myself, and learn to live in the moment and enjoy now as it's happening to me. External things such as relationships, food, sex, etc. can compliment my happiness and add pleasure to my existence, but they cannot bring me happiness.

Monday, April 07, 2003

sometimes I wonder if I am
or if I am was lingering

and the new has now come to distract me
for only this moment?
or will I be taken again into years of wondering
and wandering

I am learning to fear the moment
if it only lives in the moment
and never beyond

and never beyond

I've had a very restful weekend. Spent the whole time at my folk's home in Eccles alternating periods of sleeping, eating, and reading The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner. Great book! Beautiful imagery and I love the stream of consciousness writing and the way he plays with words!

We watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. The first half was fairly interesting...the second half sucked shit.

I just watched Amelie with Ben. A fantastic and whimsical movie! I'll own this one. :)

And how is Christina at this moment, while she's waiting for the laundry to dry so that she can go to bed?

Maintenant...je suis contente. (Right now, I am content.)

Tuesday, April 01, 2003

Dose she love me? Dose she love me not?

Whenever a patient is absent for more than three consecutive days, it's policy to call and see why they've been absent and if they intend to return to treatment. Today I decided to do my weekly callling of absent patients. Now one of my patients, who I will refer to hereafter as Bob, has been absent for 7 days and I couldn't get hold of him when I tried to call last week, so I dialed his number again today. Here's a summary of that conversation:

Ring, ring
B: Hello?
C: Hi, Bob? It's Chris Garris.
B: I'll be damned! Chris.
C: I'm just calling to check up on you. Why haven't you been to the clinic?
B: Do you want to know the truth, Chris?
C: Yes, please.
B: I faked my admission into the clinic. I am not and never have been addicted to Oxycontin. I bought a couple and took them the day before I came to the clinic just so
they would show up in my system. I'm an alcoholic. I just wanted to see if methadone would give me a cheap buzz. It didn't so I decided to quit before I got addicted to
it.
C: Well...I don't quite know what to say. You're a very convincing liar. And while I'm glad that you're not addicted to Oxycontin, I'm shocked and disappointed that you
would do such a thing.
B: Chris?
C: Yes?
B: You know, you didn't call because it's policy or procedure.
C: I didn't?
B: No. You called because you're in love with me. And you just don't know it yet.
C: Um...Bob...I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea. First of all, the patient/counselor relationship boundaries disallow any type of outside relationship between a patient at
this clinic and a counselor. Even simple friendship. Secondly, I'm in a long term relationship. And, sorry, I'm not in love with you.
B: Well, that's because you haven't gotten a chance to really know me as a person. Just give me one date. Meet me at Chilli's tomorrow and we'll hit the bar and talk.
C: No. I'm very flattered, but no.
B: Come on. Just one date. Just meet me at Chilli's tomorrow after you get off of work.
C: I'm sorry, Bob, no.
B: Can I call you tomorrow at work?
C: You can call me, but I'll only be able to talk to you if you wish to discuss your treatment.
B: Then I'll call you tomorrow and the next day and the next day until you decide to talk to me about us.
C: This conversation is inappropriate and I'm ending it now.
Click

So...I think I might get stalked or something within the next couple of weeks. Exciting, eh? I reported this to my supervisor and to the program director and documented it in the patient's chart. They said that if he returns to treatment, they'll transfer him to another counselor. Probably Terrance, our big, tough, black dude. :)

While this whole situation is somewhat funny it is also a little frightening. Bob was a wee bit too insistant and a wee bit too intense for my liking. I found that I was apprehensive every time there was a phone call for me for the rest of the day. Oh well, I'll just shake it off, watch my back, and trust my male counselors to protect me.

Saturday, March 29, 2003

I think that I might have some serious issues.

I had a dream the other night that I was driving down the road alone, the sun was shining, and I was grooving to the radio. Suddenly that annoying high pitched squealing/static noise of the Emergency Broadcast System interrupts By the Way by the Chilli Peppers and I listen as the announcer explains that Iraq has released a strange virus in the U.S. and starts describing signs to watch for, etc. One thing that was mentioned to look for was dead rodents.

I kept driving and then I started noticing dead squirrels hanging from the power lines. I just thought, Hmmm...that's strange, and kept driving. A few minutes later I stop at an intersection and look out of the window while waiting for the light to change and I see a pool of blood on the sidewalk. My gaze shifts upward and I find a grown man, clad in a white longsleeve button-up shirt, dress pants and shoes, and a tie, tangled up in the power lines and dripping blood on the ground. The light turns green and I drive onward only to find 4 more males dressed in business attire, a couple with their brief cases and cell phones still clutched in their hands, all tangled up and dangling from the power lines and dripping blood on to the ground.

And I just kept driving.
Wow. I was fucking blitzed the last time I blogged. What's all that shit about life being beautiful? Yeah...that was the alcohol talking.

Anyway, I just wanted to let all of you people know that I'm not dead...yet. The clinic I work at is doing remodeling and recarpeting and the building has been open until 8pm every night. So, of course, I've been staying till at least 5pm every night. There's something warm and fuzzy about working 4 hours overtime every day and not getting paid for it. Wooohooo! Yes, I realize that am a dumbass for working like this. The first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem.

It's just the fact that I have 67 patients and there's so much shit to keep track of, so many people to see, and so much paperwork to write up and file! Ben's getting concerned about me exhausting myself and I understand his concern and appreciate it. He's right, I cannot continue to work like this and maintain any type of sanity or healthy lifestyle. The past couple weeks all I've had energy to do is come home, eat something fast and unhealthy, and then fall into bed. My co-workers have even expressed their concerns. Kevin, Joey, and Bruce keep trying to convince me that I'm never going to get caught up. Eric and Sara just shakes their heads at me every evening as their heading out the door. One of the nurses, Dottie, asked my why I was at work every damn Saturday when I only have to work one Saturday per month. Yes, I realize that I have a problem. I truly could be on the path to becoming a work-a-holic. Luckily the new Program Director announced that she will be leaving the building at 2:30pm every day and that all counselors are to be out of the building by that time also. So worst case scenario I can still be working 5 hours of overtime per week (with no pay) but that's better than working 10 or more, right? :)

Truly, I need to get my head on straight in this area or I'm going to screw myself in others. Since I've been working all of this overtime, I've gained 4lbs back that I had lost. Not good! I haven't had the time nor energy to work out and I never got back with that guy about taking guitar lessons. And I'm sort of losing touch with my friends because I hadn't checked my email all week until today! :) I need to refocus. Breathe in....breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...turn in a circle...you are the center of the universe...you are the center.

I did, however, get suckered into going up to the center that just opened in Beckley Tuesday of this next week to help with intakes. I don't remember exactly how it happened. Tanya (the new P.D.) was saying something about one of our counselors not driving up to Beckley to help with new admissions after next week...she asked if my parents still lived in that area and I said that they did...the next thing I know I said that I would go up on Tuesday to check it out to see if I liked it. She's hoping that I do like it so that I can work there for her on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the next month or so. We have alot of people who live closer to Beckley and who want to transfer...but we can only send as many transfers as they have counselors to do the paperwork. If we lend them counselors then the transfers happen faster and our caseloads go down faster. (Hypothetically. In reality, our intake numbers seem to have increased.)

I realize that I'm tired and that last little paragraph may not have made much sense. But I understand it so it's okay.

I'll leave you with some random thoughts:

I ate too much pizza this evening and my belly is bloated like I have a shit weasel or something growing in there!!! I watched Super Troopers and laughed and giggled. My boyfriend plays alot of computer games on my computer. I think I might be developing allergies 'cause I have a runny nose. At the times when we think we have things mostly figured out in life, something unexpected and confusing will come along to fuck up our peace of mind. My Christmas tree is still up. Sometimes I think about my friends and my family and I love them so much that it hurts right in the center of my chest. How often are we actually aware of experiencing and feeling love for someone? Have you ever stopped and watched yourself feel that way and really enjoyed it? Been awed by the beauty of human emotion? (You should try it sometime. It's kinda fun.) The day before yesterday the sky was a perfectly beautiful shade of blue. I took a moment and walked out on the back steps at work (since my office is right next to the back door) and savored the color of the sky, the green of the trees, and the bright, bursting yellow flowers on a bush just up the hillside. A strong March breeze was blowing my hair away from my face and I could hear the windchimes from the house just up the hill jangling in the wind. I turned my face up to the sun for a moment and closed my eyes and felt happy. I like the wind.

Thursday, March 20, 2003

So here I am...drunk again! This is becoming an uncomfortable trend. :)

I just watched American Beauty again. And I cried like a baby at the end when Kevin Spacey's character when dies. So much...so much beauty in the world. And sometimes it truly does hurt to see it all. And sometimes we look forever and can never see it.

Today at work I was talking to a co-worker about the war. I told her that is was no use to worry about the future as we can't change it. We just have to take it as it comes and live life as we have it and love every moment that we have. If I were to die tomorrow...well...I've had a good run. I had a wonderful childhood...wonderful parents and siblings. I've had good friends that would do anything for me. I've been a good friend. I've been a good sister, a good daughter, a good granddaughter, a good employee, a good student, a good girlfriend, a good lover. :) I could die knowing that my life has not been a waste that and that I've had a good time and learned alot during my time.

Sometimes it does hurt when you ponder how much beauty there is in the world. And how much sorrow. And how much they're mingled together.

Maybe it's just the pinot grigio talking. :) Goodnight.

Sunday, March 16, 2003

I have a picture of a woman exposing her boobies set as my background. And I have a hangover. The world was spinning when I opened my eyes at 9:30 this morning. So I decided to lay right where I was until 10am. Then the overwhelming desire to urinate won and I was forced to stumble to the bathroom.

I don't think that I put this boobie picture on my desktop, but I'm not sure. I don't remember much after Ken and Ben and I started prank calling people. I don't remember going downstairs last night. I don't remember taking my clothes off, which I must have because I woke up wearing a nightshirt thingie. I don't remember if Ben and I had sex. I just switched birth control pills and it's 7 days until they're effective so we better have used a condom. If I get pregnant over this shit I'm going to be pissed as hell. Anyway, I'm pretty sure we would have used one...maybe. Fuck. :(

Things I do remember....All three of us crawled in that little closet in my living room and Ben and Ken made the stuffed animals in there do sexual things to each other. I lost interest after a few minutes and came out and tried to read The Preacher for a bit, but I had trouble focusing on the words...and figuring out which comic block/bubble I was supposed to read next. Who would think that alcohol makes it hard to concentrate? I remember that we ate alot of potato chips and dip. I remember talking to Shawn and he was also drunk. Drinking alone last night...poor, poor bastard. I remember talking to Chris and telling him that Top Gun was a fucking stupid movie...which it sort of is and sort of isn't at the same time. Ben and Ken called Mary and possibly woke her up at 1:30am. We called Pat but he wasn't home. He called us back at 4am and called us a bunch of pussies on the answering machine because we'd all already passed out.

Well I'm pretty munchie right now...and very dehydrated. Ben and Ken are calling for us to go to Tudor's Biscuit World. Nothing like eating greasy ass breakfast foods when you're feeling a little woozie. :)

All this fun from 3 and 1/2 Miami Ice Teas.

Saturday, March 15, 2003

Yes...I realize that I spelled the word "boobies" as "bobbies" when I posted last. I didn't mean to do it...and that's why it's funny...and that's why I'm NOT changing it. :)

Let's see...what's new? Well I'm carrying a case load of 66 patients at work, about 30 of which I see weekly. The rest I'm required to see either bi-weekly or monthly. Stressful. They've also decided to update our treatment plans so I have to learn a whole new tx plan system. The excitement never ends. Today is the 4th Saturday in a row that I've worked. I had to work last Saturday, however today and the other Saturdays I was supposed to be at home snoozing. I, however, feel this strange need to get my patient's paperwork turned in on time so that they can properly be taken care of. I've GOT to stop caring so much. I'm exhausted.

I was thinking yesterday about the impact of names of a person's personality. I work with a girl named Sara Buzzard. When I first came to the clinic and walked down the hall past her door and read that name, I instantly imagined her with dark hair and being a sort of brooding person that only wears black and such. It turns out that my guess wasn't very far from the truth. Honestly, Sara Buzzard reminds me very much of Wednesday Adams. She has very dark plainly styled hair, bright blue eyes, very pale skin, she's a tad on the fleshy side, and wears black often. She doesn't show much emotion when she speaks to people. When emotion is shown it's either annoyance or sarcasm. And so I wonder, is her behavior related to her last name and her perception of and association of that name with the idea of a vulture? Possible. Hmmm...an idea for future research.

I walked into the chart room several weeks ago and heard a muffled little girl's voice saying "Die, die, die!" over and over again. I looked around and found Sara sitting in the back of the room filing paperwork. I stopped, sort of spooked, and asked her in a hushed voice, "Did you hear that?" She stopped filing to listen and the voice stopped. She gave me an odd look and said that she didn't hear anything and then went back to filing. A second later the voice started chanting "Die, die, die" again. I looked at her to make sure that she wasn't making the noise and she was not moving her mouth...and it seemed to be coming from the next row of charts. I looked down the aisle but nothing was there. At this point I was a little freaked out. Then Kevin walked in the room and I grabbed his arm and said, "Can you hear that?" He laughed and then said, "What?" with a knowing smirk on his face and just got a chart and left. At this point Sara started laughing and the little girl's voice stopped chanting. She confessed that she's able to throw her voice, but she can only say the word "joy" over and over again. The only problem is that it sounds like the word "die" when she says it. She scared the shit out of me. I thought I was losing my bloody mind. :)

Hmmm...saw The Ring last week. I felt very compelled to copy the DVD and send the copy to some random person in the mail. :) I will agree with the majority that it was pretty good for a scary flick. It creeped me out, anyway. That night I saw the little girl, Samara, in my dream. And then I sort of woke up...the dream and reality sort of faded together and I thought I saw her standing in my bedroom doorway. Fucking creepy as hell. I closed my eyes and started praying and then opened them. Of course, the image had faded, but it scared the shit out of me. I hate my fucked up brain sometimes.




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Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Wet Boobie Syndrome

I fell into oblivion at 6pm....alas, I did not reach my dream of seeing little blue men beheading tangarine colored bunnies.

Ben didn't have his door key so I awoke, very bewildered, to the sound of the doorbell repeatedly dinging. I ran up the stairs, threw open the door, and just stared dumbly as Ben came in and sat down his backpack and jacket. I then followed him upstairs thinking that a nice glass of water and some food would be a good idea.

Being as sleepy as I am...and being who I am...my coordination was, needless to say, not at it's peak. The first drink I attempted to take from the glass of water found it's way down my shirt rather than into my parched mouth. There was a sudden inhalation of air as the cold water washed down over my bossom.

So I'm suffering from wet boobie syndrome for which no one has found one tried and true cure. I'm tired, and lonely, and so confused. Please help me...please. I'm going to cuddle in front of my heater until my bobbies dry and then I'm going to bed.
Zombie

I've been awake for 31 hours and 20 minutes.

In this zombie-like state that I'm in, (with my tanks and my bombs and my bombs and my guns) I somehow managed to actually get some work done today. I also somehow managed to survive a pt. yelling at me because his/her last two urine screens came back positive for benzodiazepines...and somehow it was MY fault. Actually the pt. was pissed because he/she will have to attend the clinic more frequently. You break the rules once and you get a warning. Twice and I take your goodies away. I had to take goodies away today and the pt. was not happy. :)

I think this sleep deprivation clouded brain thing I've got going on allowed all that stress from the screaming pt. to just bounce right off of me. Normally I'm like a freaking sponge when it comes to situations like that...I instantly internalize all of that icky stress and anxiety. Today I've been just too fucking tired to care.

Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice was saying in response to this pt's bitching, "You better shut the fuck up or I'm going to fuck-start your head!" If only Benicio Del Toro or Ryan Phillippe had been there to save me.

Jesus Christo, I feel fucked up. I'm tempted to stay awake until I start hallucinating...I'd like to see little blue men biting the heads off of fluffy tangarine colored bunnies. That would be cool.

Blood Work

When a patient is admitted to our clinic they have a physical exam and blood work done. The blood work comes back about 3 weeks later and the counselors are required to discuss the results with them and, if necessary, refer them to a doctor. More often than not, the clinic Medical Director will scribble a little note on the side of the results detailing the condition or dangers indicated by the numbers shown. My co-worker Eric got some blood work back on a patient his second week working as a counselor. The pt's labs showed a possibility of risk for diabetes and the Medical Director had made a note to that effect on the side of the page. Eric, however, was having difficulty reading the doctor's handwriting at that time. He ended up telling the patient that he had "disasters" in his blood stream. The patient then promptly freaked out and shrieked in horror , "Oh my god! I have Hepatitis C, don't I? Don't I?"

After the pt. left, Eric realized his error and made a note to tell the pt. the correct results on his/her next visit. A few days later Eric tells a pt. that he/she needs to get checked for diabetes because his/her bloodwork shows indication of diabetes. The pt. freaked out yet again, stating the he/she is perfectly healthy. And then Eric realized that he told the wrong pt. that they had diabetes.

I think he finally got the right person to the doctor. For treatment of diabetes...not disasters. And if a long haired hippy looking dude ever tells you that you have disasters in your bloodstream, make sure you give him a swift kick in the jimmy!
A Wee Hour Blog

My friends made it across the country safely, surprisingly enough, and we unpacked the Uhal on Sunday afternoon. Since then we've just been chilling at Old Lady Berry's house. (Old Lady B kicks ass!!!) Ben and I left Columbus at 10:00pm and got home at 1:15am. We would have been home earlier, but we got stuck in traffic for an hour due to a nasty little wreck on Route 35.

Not that I minded the delay really. In spite of the fact that I have to start getting ready for work at 3:00am. :) It gave me a chance to appreciate that patch of night sky hanging over that stretch of West Virginia farmland. I had forgotten just how full of stars the sky actually is. (Or was, considering the fact that the stars producing those bits of light are zillions of miles away and the light of a star that burned out long ago just may be making it to us.) Normally the city drowns the stars out, but there was no city, no streetlights, and no houses on that strip of road. Just the line of cars ahead of us and the darkenss and the sky. I like moments like that. Moments that force you to be still...to look around you and think.

It also gave Ben and I a chance to talk about a little of everything. We talked about the past and the future. About our families and friends and our hopes and fears. We agreed that we had both hurt each other deeply in the past. But we also agreed that, even though we did not wish to cause the other pain, we do not regret the past. The past taught us painful lessons, gave us deeper understandings of love and life, and shaped us into the people that we have become. I have always believed that in order to gain understanding and knowledge, we must sacrifice something of ourselves. The process of learning and growth is a change. With change there is always a price...always a sacrifice. I feel that what we have learned and gained has been well worth the pain and sacrifice.

We are each in the process of healing ourselves now, and it will take time to recover from our pain. That actually is one of my New Year's resolutions...to heal and make peace with who I was and who I now am. I'm not sure how long it will take (let alone if it can even be done within a year's time) and I'm not sure where it will lead me, but I'm moving forward.

I'm learning to love myself again. If I find something inside of me that I don't like, I try to change it and then keep moving forward. That's all you can do really. Ben and I were talking about how we really only have two choices when we encounter a difficulty in life. We can either sit down, simply exist, and let that problem overwhelm us or we can keep pushing, keep trying, and keep moving forward until we overcome. It's my opinion that I have enough of my Grandmother's stubbornness to allow me to keep pushing forward. Piss-ant or not, I'm a survivor. I ain't gonna give up! I ain't gonna stop! I'm gonna work harder! :)

Sorry about that. I swear that I will never (intentionally) quote Destiny's Children lyrics on this blog ever again.

I had a wonderful time these past two days. Being with my friends was very theraputic and comforting and I find myself feeling happy and peaceful...at least for the moment. :) I also had fun with Barb (a.k.a. Old Lady B) this weekend. Ya know, it's really odd, but I get along with her better than I do women my own age. I like the fact that she doesn't just welcome me as one of her son's friends, but also as her friend. She's an intelligent, classy woman woman with a good sense of humor and a strong will. She's been through a lot of shit but came out standing, and I greatly respect her.

Hmmm...it's 2:57am and tiredness is just starting to creep in. And I have 11 hours until I can be home again. I'm fucked. :)

Let's see...random thoughts to close my blog: I'm happy that Chris has moved nearer. I'm sorry that Pat is still so far away. I have an ache inside that's lessening with time. I have no fucking clue what I'm going to wear to work today. I wish I had sick time because I'd stay home and sleep. I'm blessed to have such a wonderful family and such wonderful friends. My friends are actually a family to me. One day I believe that I will have an answer to my biggest question. One day the people that I love will find what they're looking for and they will have their answers too.

I don't think "one day" is today, but try to enjoy it anyway. :)

Saturday, March 01, 2003

Today is March 1st and I realized that I've still never taken my Christmas tree down.

Some may think that this is pathetic. Perhaps it is. Some may think that I'm lazy. Perhaps I am. I prefer to think that I'm trying to "keep Christmas in my heart all throughout the year" like the reformed Ebenezer Scrooge.

Christmas is a time that has nothing but good memories for me. Cold winter nights spent at home warm and with my family. My mom would bake alot of cookies and other goodies and we'd all sit in the living room together munching and watching TV or watching the Christmas tree lights and talking. And we'd talk about the things we wanted to accomplish in our lives. And our parents would share memories of their childhood and adolesence. Good times. :)

But we all know the truth. I'm just a pathetic, lazy biatch that hasn't gotten around to taking her tree down. I wonder if I should leave it up and just change the ornaments according to the seasons? Nah. Too much work. :)

On to other exciting news...

My workplace is alive with gossip and rumors. I've been anticipating the day when I would hear a rumor about me. Eric, Patrick, Kevin and I have been trying to spread the rumor that I'm really a man who's just undergone cosmetic surgery and hormone therapy to become a woman. We were telling people that I'd be getting my vagina this June. Unfortunately, no one bought it.

Finally last week I heard my very first rumor about me. Cyndi (Matt's wife) told me that people are saying that my co-worker Eric and I are a little "too friendly" with each other. When I take my 15 minute break I'll go to his office and bullshit for a bit, and he also comes to mine on his 15 minutes break. Sometimes, however, I'll go downstairs and sit and talk with Kevin or Patrick. Hell, sometimes I talk to Cyndi or Andre or Lumpy or Joey. But for some strange reason one or more of my co-workers thinks that since I talk more frequently to Eric, well, I must be sleeping with him. Perfectly logical, right?

I have never in my life worked with "professionals" who act so juvenile. Some days I feel like I'm back in high school again. :) I have my suspicions about who most likely started this rumor/gossip. Once I'm sure who it is I'm going to give him/her/them a little talking to.

And other fun stuff....

My friends Chris, Shawn, and Pat are on their way across this great nation in a Uhal. Today is day three of their travels and I'm guessing that they're probably somewhere in Kansas or Missouri by now. I hope that they haven't run any more people over or killed any more hookers. They're not exactly in the ideal getaway car and they're definately not inconspicuous. :) Safe jorney, boys.

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

Tofu hot dogs look like normal hot dogs and taste like normal hot dogs, but they have a texture all their own. Weird, man. And then there's the bean-like after taste. Again, weird.

I'm hoping to get someone from another team to switch with me so that I can work next Saturday and end up having this Monday off. That way I'll be able to spend more time with my friends in Colombus this weekend. Yay!

I finally got my evaluation back at work. I'm officially a full time employee now and I get insurance! The forms are upstairs awaiting my completion. Note to self: Complete insurance forms tomorrow evening or your head will explode.

Fruit is some of the most wonderful stuff on Earth. Especially grapes. White seedless grapes are the bomb! And Special K Red Berries is the food of the gods!

Anyway, I'm really enjoying this new Weight Watchers point counting diet that Ben and I have adopted. I get to eat the stuff that I love like sandwiches, veggies, cereal, and fruit. :) Yum!

My back hurts. Ben and I played raquetball this evening and I think I must've twisted funny or something. I learned that I play raquetball better when in a bad mood. I tend to hit the ball harder that way.

Ben got me a massage book for Christmas and I've learned how to do the back leg massage, a few back massage techniques, and a few arm and hand massage techniques. If only I could massage my own back right now. :(

I'm going to bed. Goodnight and I love you all!

Thursday, February 20, 2003

One of my former patients called me yesterday just to say hi. He had transfered to a clinic in another city that is closer to his home. He told me that he was doing well now...he makes more money than I do at his new job and has better benefits! :) And he hasn't used any drugs since he entered treatment. When he first came to the clinic he reported suicidal ideations, however now he says that he's so excited about his life that he would never dream of throwing it away. :)

I was so happy to talk to him and to hear that the program is actually working for him. He told me that he likes his new clinic okay, but he misses me. He told me that his new counselor just doesn't seem to be willing to take the time to talk to him like I would and that he wished that I was still his counselor. Hearing him say that was very rewarding. He made my day! :)

So I guess I'm doing something right some of the time at least. :)

Wednesday, February 19, 2003

New Year's Resolution(s) Progress Report

Ben and I did the Adkins diet for a bit, but we decided that we couldn't take one more day of eating greasy meats!!!! (Ben actually was the one to crumble this time around.) I lost 7lbs on it. (Not a bad start, I suppose.) But it's not worth the amount of disgust that eating an all meat diet provokes.

So, now Ben and I are doing the Weight Watchers thing. (Basically, keeping our calorie intake pretty low.) And we've started exercising again. We're playing (or attempting to play) raquetball 3 times per week. After I do the raquetball thing for about 30 minutes, I've been doing cardiovascular stuff for an additional 30 minutes and then doing 3 sets of light weight on my biceps and my quads to tone. So far, I'm still at the same weight as when I stopped Mr. Adkin's diet. I plan on upping my exercise regiment to 5 days a week. I'll be sure to brag on any progress that I make in lessening the Earth's gravitational pull upon my being.

One resolution underway, three more to go.

Today I decided to call around and price guitar playing lessons. The cheapest I found was $15 per lesson for 4 lessons a month. The most expensive was $17.50 per lesson, however the $17.50 guy seemed really cool. He talked to me for a few minutes and I found myself already liking him. He put me at ease and it's very important that a teacher be able to do that. Especially when you're a stubborn ass bitch who embarrasses fairly easy and you're putting yourself in a vulnerable position by trying to learn something new and important to you. I know I will fail on occasion and I need to be comfortable failing in front of whom ever is teaching me. (Pride is a funny thing.) He said that he wouldn't be able to take a new student for a couple of weeks. I'll have to think it over a bit.

Anyway, I suppose Resolution 2 could be underway in the near future. As for Resolution 3 & 4...well...those are going to take some time...that's all I know right now.

Tune in for more exciting updates in the life of Chris G.

"You don't see what I see every day as Chris G."



Friday, February 14, 2003

Happy Valentine's Day!

I went to a wedding today. A guy from work and a gal that I used to work with tied the knot today. It was a lovely, small ceremony and afterwards we went to dinner at the Marriott. The wedding was so emotional: Andre started crying as he saw her walking down the aisle...Stefanie started crying as she was saying her vows...everyone cried when the bride's 10 year old daughter, Alexa, gave her away (except for me, callous and bitter wench that I am). Also at the reception the groom read a poem and declaration of love that he had composed for the bride and they both were crying through that. :)

I'm happy for them because they seem so in love and so happy together. Love and happiness are very fragile things. I hope that they learn how to make it last throughout their lifetimes.

Here's to the newly wed Andre and Stefanie Nazario!

Sunday, February 09, 2003

A dream

In my dream, my friends Stephanie and Nikki came to visit me at my parent's home in Eccles. Nikki had picked Stephanie up in her father's big, red Ford 250. It's a nice truck really...it even has one of those truck toppers on it so that you can put groceries and things back there without fear of them being stolen. Anyway, they arrived and we all had dinner and sat around and talked. My entire immediate family was there also. After dinner Stephanie asked to borrow Nikki's truck so that she could go and check on her husband and her kids and then come right back. This is impractical because Steph and her husband live 30 minutes away from my parent's home. She really should have just called them to check on them. However, we didn't think it odd in the dream and she took the keys and was gone for a while and then returned.

Steph came back in and pulled Nikki aside and said, "I need to talk to you. Come outside with me." They went outside and a few minutes later Nikki came back in, her skin pale, eyes wide, mouth gaping, and her breathing terse. I immediately grew concerned and asked her what was wrong. Steph came in the house at that moment and said that we should go back to my bedroom to talk. So we all filed down the hall to my old bedroom.

Once back there Nikki burst out, "She has a dead man in the back of the truck! She cut off his hand! Oh my god, Christina! Oh god! Oh god!" And then she started sobbing and sat down on the bed with her hands covering her face. I look at Nikki in disbelief and then look up at Steph who calmly reached into her purse and pulled out something wrapped in a small white towel. There was fresh blood on one end of the towel. She unwrapped the bundle and there was a man's left hand. Through my shock and horror I noticed that the hand wore a wedding band...a wedding band that matched Stephanie's. She had killed her husband, Derek.

My legs gave out and I sank down to the floor. I was nauseous and dizzy and I felt that I couldn't breathe. Nikki still sat sobbing and Stephanie stood looking down at us, that dead hand held in hers, and she was disturbingly calm. I asked her why and she said that she just couldn't take it anymore. She then announced that we had to bury him. Nikki and I didn't question this, but immediately started trying to think of places where we could dispose of the remains. Nikki kept saying, "I've got to go home tonight. Oh god, that's my dad's truck! He's gonna kill me! We've got to get rid of it!" She was still crying. I suggested one area on Bolt Mountain and we decided to go and check it out and look for the perfect spot to hide the remains of the dead husband. (Who was, by the way, a former boyfriend of mine. But that's another story.)

We decided to drive my car down to Bolt Mountain. We didn't want to get pulled over with a dead body in the back, after all. So we went and found a good location away from the road and very secluded and then we began our drive back to Eccles. On the way back the shock started to wear off and I realized that I didn't have to help her do this. I realized that I should, in fact, call the police. Then the internal struggle began. Should I help one of my dear friends whom I've known since I was eight years old? Or should I do the right thing and call the police? Was I willing to become a criminal and endanger my freedom for this girl? I considered Derek. He was not an easy person to be with, by any means. He was very controlling and obsessive about certain things...one of those being Stephanie's weight. He constantly told her she looked fat so that she would exercise and diet like mad and stay in shape. As a result, she did stay in shape but she had a twisted self-image. He also did not tell her that he had genital herpes before having sex with her...so he gave them to her. Nice, eh? (I'm so glad our relationship never got that far! Thank God for my 17 year-old inexperience and desire to remain a virgin until marriage!) However, these were not reasons to kill a man. Divorce him, perhaps, but not to take his life. I came to my sense and decided I could not help her and I had to convince Nikki of the same.

We returned to my house and I told Steph to sit and talk to my family while Nikki and I gathered up shovels and things that we would need for our task. She agreed. Once Nik and I were outside I told her that we were not going to help Steph and that we needed to call the police. She was still in shock, eyes still wide and looking dazed, but she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number. I took the phone from her and said that I wanted to report a murder. The murderer and the murdered were at my home and help needed to arrive as quickly as possible.

We went back inside and whispered to Steph that we needed to visit with my family awhile so that they wouldn't think anything was up. She went along with it. While she was talking to my mother in the kitchen, I informed my dad and brother of the situation and let them know that we needed to keep her engaged in conversation and distracted until the police arrived.

They arrived about 30 minutes later and handcuffed her. She looked at me with very sad eyes and said, "I just couldn't take it anymore." I nodded and smiled and waved goodbye as tears welled up in my eyes. And then she was out the door and being led toward the police cruiser. I broke down crying thinking of all of the wonderful times we had shared as children. Another cop came in and said that no one else was allowed to leave until we had all been questioned. There were several officers surrounding Nikki's dad's truck, taking photographs and making notes. They sat me down to be questioned, I began my story, and then I woke up.

Murder, murder, murder. At least this time I made the right choice. I hope this dream isn't at all prophetic. I'm a little worried honestly. You see, after I dated Derek (Steph's husband) for two weeks, I knew that he wasn't for me. To let him down easier I decided to fix him up with Stephanie. On the day they were introduced, they hit it off wonderfully and they were holding hands by the evening. That evening as we were eating dinner, I glanced at their intertwined hands on the table and remembered a dream that I had had of that particular vision. The dream consisted only of that image and one thought...these two people will get married. I blurted out, "You two are going to get married." This was their first time meeting...it wasn't even a date really...so they both blushed and smiled at the suggestion and said I was crazy. Six months later I attended their wedding. Was it my suggestion that caused them to want to marry? Or was my dream truly prophetic? I think the latter.

Now with this new dream, I hope it's just all simply wild imagination. And it actually felt like that's what it was. It was too long and detailed to be prophetic. All of the dreams that I've had that have come to pass have only been glimpses...very short and not very detailed. Usually when I have them I wake up thinking, "What the hell was that? That didn't make any sense!" At any rate, I might call Steph and advise her not to kill Derek if she's unhappy. That's what friends are for, I suppose. To keep each other from murdering their significant others. :)

Sunday, February 02, 2003

It's a Sad, Sad World

You know, it's pretty sad when I find myself reading my own blog for entertainment. Yup.

You know what else is sad? I turned on the TV yesterday (and this morning) and saw an infomercial for a new piece of exercise equipment that is truly only a 4 inch wide, 3 feet long piece of stretchy material. This fabulously buff woman was in a room of other fabulously buff women walking in place with this thing wrapped behind their backs, an end of it in each hand with arms extending and and contracting. The main fabulous woman was talking about how in just a few weeks YOU TOO CAN LOOK AS GOOD AS I DO, IF ONLY YOU PURCHASE THIS PRODUCT!!!!! What a crock of shite! :) Go to the goddamn gym people! Don't send this silly wench $35.95 for a strip of friggin' material!!!!

You know what else is sad? Me. Cause I miss my friends. :(


Saturday, February 01, 2003

In the Pope's Rubber Robe

Since my sister's divorce in 1998, she's gone through a sort of second adolescence. She has been trying out new identities and by this process attempting to make the transformation from Rose, devoted and doting wife, to Rose, single and thirty-something single gal.

Over the past couple of years, she's startled me more than a few times during this process. First she actually started drinking and getting trashed with her friends, which blew my mind because she had been a very devout Protestant Christian for...well...ever since I've known her. The next step was piercing her ears several times. Then she got a tatoo on her ass of a little heart with an american flag in it. Then she asked me to take nude and sexy photographs of her to send to her love interest at the time who was in the military and stationed somewhere near Afghanistan. Next came the belly piercing. But that was the extend of her odd behavior...until today. :)

She just called and informed me that she was converting to Catholicism. She's been attending a Catholic church in Baltimore and says that she feels at peace after she attends a service and she really wants to become part of it all. Don't get me wrong. I fully support her decision and am open to all religions...but, truth be told, I'm still in shock! I suppose expected her to go a little wild after her divorce...but I never expected her to convert to another religion! wow.

Well, here's to God, the Pope, and my sister...may they find what they're looking for in each other. :)

"And if I lose my Cracker Jacks at the tidal wave
I got a place in the Pope's rubber robe
Muhammad my friend
It's time to tell the world
We both know it was a girl
Back in Bethlehem"

~ Tori Amos from Muhammad My Friend

Friday, January 31, 2003

I have been possessed by the spirit of Nancy Reagan. "Just Say No!" Wait a minute...she's not dead. Hmmm...

Visualize This

A man told me today that he can't piss standing up due to his back pain. (He has a slipped disc or something in his back...not a dick slipped in his back as Pat thought I said.) He went on to say that due to the constant pain he was unable to fully empty his blatter because he would clinch against the pain and that would cause that sphincter to close. But now that he's come to the clinic, he told me that he can empty his bladder. He was excited about it and I'm happy for him. I try not to take my youth and current good health for granted...people like this guy put it all into perspective for me.

Anyway sharing all of this with me was necessary, I suppose, so that I could understand the nature of his illness and pain. I'm flattered that he felt comfortable enough with me to talk about such a possibly embarrassing issue. However, he really didn't need to go into such detail as to describe how he must "push" when he's trying to go to the bathroom. He even sat in the patient chair and demonstrated how he must sit on the toilet for anything to "move" for him. This was entirely unnecessary and now I have the mental image of this man sitting on the toilet burned permanently in my memory. Lovely.

Blue Body Scrub Thingie

A couple of days ago I found, hidden under the shower curtain in a corner of my bathroom floor, a medium sized light blue body scrubbie thingie. I know it's not mine or Ben's, so it must belong to one of my guests from the holiday. So I say to the owner of this item, if you want the scrubbie thingie back, I will keep it in a very safe place for you until I see you again and can return it. If, however, you do not have any attachment to the light blue scrubbie thing, please let me know and I will dispose of it in an environmentally sound manner.

Wednesday, January 29, 2003

I'm tired. My job just seems to be getting more stressful with each passing day. My case load is now 63 patients. And there's just so fucking much to keep track of...it's wearing me thin. :) And the patients themselves, dear Jupiter! But now I'm going to tell you a story:

Today, I received an anonymous phone call from someone reporting that they had seen my patient, high as a frigging kite, playing in traffic. The caller was a friend, she said. She was an older woman who was genuinely concerned about my patient's health. I'm guessing it was a mother or an aunt. She reported that my pt. had taken her methadone that day plus some benzodiazepines, barbituates, and some other substance that the pt. claimed would cause all of this stuff not to show up in her urine drug screens.

Benzos and barbs are classifiied as central nervous system depressants. They are typically used to sedate a person to treat anxiety, etc. Methadone, when taken with certain other drugs, will enhance the effects of those other drugs. Benzos and barbs are extremely dangerous to take with methadone. Mixing a high enough dosage of the two will cause a patient's heart and breathing to slow to a dangerous level and will either put them in a coma or kill them. A patient at our clinic just lost his girlfriend two weeks ago because she decided to see what would happen if she took his methadone and a few benzos. Basically, my patient is running a high risk of killing herself if she doesn't change her behavior soon.

Talk about a stressful situation. She wants to get off drugs very much...she basically has to or she loses her husband and her children. I don't blame the guy for leaving. I would do the same if I were in his situation, I'm sure. But I want her to succeed so that she can save her marriage and be a mother to her children! The problem is that she just can't break out of this old pattern of behavior. She's my age...I could be her if I had made different choices. It's hurting me that I can't help her...she simply won't let me. I've spoken with her once about the dangers of mixing other medications with methadone. I'm going to talk to her again tomorrow. I certainly hopes she heeds my warnings. I really don't want to read her obituary any time soon.

Shawn and Chris talked about drug use and substance abuse in their blogs this week. I smoked a fair amount of "wacky weed" back in the day, I've hit acid before, and I've drunk myself to the point of oblivion and extremely unattractive stupidity. But I've never once taken any pills, snorted anything, or shot anything up. I was and am too fucking afraid of addiction and of what I would become. Unlike my boys, I don't fear letting out the deep dark things hidden in me. They're really not that deep or dark. :) I've always had only a sort of constant underlying melancholy...not a raging demon waiting to leap out and devour whomever it may. What I fear, I think, is losing control of who I am...letting something else take control of my life. I realize now that my fear is well founded...and just may have saved my silly ass from a very different lifestyle.

My experiences working with drug addicts have taught me a few other things:

The first being not to pass judgement on anyone. (Yes, this is something we all try to do and say we do but our society is designed in such a way that we are constantly comparing things to determine what is "right" and what is "wrong, what is "good" or "bad". We learn and understand our world through judging and comparison. We understand ourselves and our roles in society by comparing ourselves with others. So we all judge daily.) The events that lead many of my patients to drug addiction could just as easily have happened in my life. I just got lucky and was gifted with wonderful parents who helped me to make the right choices and helped me to develop a strong will.

The second thing I've learned is not to trust anyone when it comes to taking drugs. I've had people tell me of how their best friends, even their family members have given them drugs laced with something else and didn't tell them until it was too late. You can really never know if friend or even the dealer didn't lace that joint that they're passing you with cocaine or angel dust.

The third and greatest lesson I've learned is that substance abuse of every kind can destroy your life and the lives of those you love the most. I've met people who's mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins won't talk to them because of their past actions under the influence of drugs. I've met people who've lost all family, their husbands/wives, boyfriends/girlfriends, children, friends, jobs, vehicles, homes, and all their possessions due to substance abuse. A few of them have only the clothes on their backs and their lives. They somehow gather up the $12.50 it takes to dose daily at the clinic. And that's their world.

I experiemented with those few things when I was younger, and as little as 6 months ago I was probably even open to experimenting a bit more. But not now. Not after all of the shit I've seen and the broken lives that I'm faced with daily.

My message, in short, is please don't do drugs. There are dangerous substances out there that can take control of you without you even realizing it. Just don't go there. :) That way you won't have to worry about doing crazy shit like screaming disturbing things out at downtown bars or asking pretty girls to shoot you with your own gun. :)

Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort. ~ Jean Cocteau


Sunday, January 26, 2003

Change

Patterns. Repetition. Habit.

We wake up every morning, We shower, and we go to work. We work and we come home and eat. We do dishes or laundry. We watch TV or screw around online and then go to bed and do it all again. Over and over and over.

There are men and women who go to jobs they hate every day. And they come home to children and spouses who are strangers because they don't have time to spend with them because of these time consuming jobs that they hate. But they don't change it because it's the pattern that they have fallen into. There are women and men who go to sleep every night lonely because they also have fallen into the pattern of being alone. There are men who are no longer in love with their wives and women who are no longer in love with their husbands but they stay because they have so much time and effort invested. And because that is the pattern that they have fallen into.

There comes a time in all of our lives when we are ready for change...when we need to break the pattern. But we realize that change is difficult and painful to bring about in ourselves and our lives, especially when there are others involved.

We must die to one life before we can enter another. ~ Anatole France

Ice

A thin later of ice has formed over the river near my apartment. The snow that fell today and earlier this week has formed a pristine, white blanket over the ice. There are a few areas where the ice does not meet in the middle and the freezing waters reflect the iron grey of the sky. It's so beautiful and still and silent. I'd never seen a river freeze until now. And they say the cold is just beginning. :)

The ice is thin...come on dive in...underneath my lucid skin...the cold is lost...Forgotten. ~ Sarah McLachlan
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we
leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we
can enter another.


Anatole France



Friday, January 24, 2003

I received a nickname today at work.

Patrick, Kevin, and Eric have decided to call me Aeon Flux...and I'm not really sure why. I certainly don't resemble the scantily clad spy and assassin. And I don’t die at the end of every workday so I’m not sure of how they made the connection.

I asked them if they planned on killing me every day and they paused for a moment. It was only a moment, but still…it was a pause. A considering pause. As if they were thinking, could we actually get away with arranging her death and then successfully resuscitating her daily?

Anyway, this led to a lengthy discussion of the Aeon Flux shorts from Liquid Television and now I’ve a desire to watch them all over again. I wonder if there exists somewhere an Aeon Flux DVD?

Other news…..

One of the counseling supervisors, Val, threw away my lunch today. She was cleaning out the fridge first thing this morning and decided to throw out anything that “looked old”. Well my chicken quesadillia from last night was a few hours old, I admit, but not old enough to be thrown away! When I confronted her she wasn’t in the slightest bit apologetic…and this pissed me off.

She just said: “Well people always bring stuff in and leave it and I was just cleaning the fridge out because I couldn’t fit my lunch in the fridge for all the shit other people had in there.”

And so I said: “But I just brought that in this morning…that was my lunch.”

And she continued to try and justify her action and remained defensive. I said “okay” and walked away…and then brought it up in a meeting with another supervisor later. I didn’t name names but just stated that the cleaning of the fridge needed to have policy made about it to avoid future problems such as the one I had experienced that morning. I suggested that it be cleaned out every Friday evening by which ever team was pulling cleanup duties that week.

Apparently gossip spreads through that place like wildfire and Val came to my office apologizing and gave me three bucks to make up for the lost lunch.

Too much drama!!! And the worst thing is that I know, even though she was all smiles at the end of the day, I’ve made an enemy. Drama.

Wednesday, January 22, 2003

Jeepers but I was bleak yesterday! And yes Shawn, perhaps I was being a bit melodramatic. :) But...I don't know...maybe not. Nothing and I mean NOTHING could comfort me yesterday. I did, however, finally find peace after a night's sleep and another days hard work at the methadone clinic. :) So all's well that ends well and all that rot.

Better Than Yesterday

So...what exactly broke my gloom today? It certainly wasn't waking up to discover that I was already 23 minutes late for work. :) Yup, I overslept. Fun, fun, fun. But at work today I was actually able to make a difference! Yay! One of my patients had stopped attending the clinic and I called him last Friday to check up on him and to see if he intended to return. During our phone conversation I learned that his grandparents had been paying for his treatment and they could no longer afford to pay for the 2 and 1/2 hours of travel to the clinic daily. He had gradually taken his last few doses of methadone, and had eventually run out. He admitted to me that he had broken down a few days ago and purchased and snorted some Oxycontin because the withdrawal was too intense. I convinced him to return to the clinic and told him I would do everything in my power to help him. The important thing was that he return to treatment.

Well he came back yesterday and I attempted to get my Program Director to grant him exception take home doses considering his financial situation. No luck. I tried a few other things which all met with failure. That was one of the reasons I was so bummed yesterday. I promised someone that I could help them and the system didn't work like it was supposed to. Someone placed hope in me and I was unable to help them. That killed me.

Today I gave it one last shot. I decided to call and plead with the Program Director of a facility closer to his home and ask that he be allowed to transfer to that clinic. I knew that the clinic in question was filled to capacity and was accepting no new patients, however I thought it was worth a try. And it turns out that it was. The P.D. allowed me to send him up to be transfered. The kid will now only have to drive 30 minutes to treatment vs. the 2 and 1/2 hours he was driving to our clinic. The important thing is that he will be in treatment and not out buying and doing shit off the street. :) And that was my little victory today. Yes it's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. :)

One of my co-workers asked me to be in his band after overhearing me singing in the chart room. The "band", which as of yet only has 4 members (two singers, a drummer, and a pianist/keyboard player) and has yet to play anywhere, is called Midget in a Box. I said yes because the name is so fucking cool. :) And because it would be hilarious to be the gigantic front woman of a band called Midget in a Box! It's just going to be a cover band, but cover bands get paid for playing. And if I'm a member of that cover band I would get paid for doing something I really enjoy doing. Groovy. :) It'll probably never come to be, but it's a fun idea to entertain.

I received an invitation to apply to grad school at Northwestern State University in Louisiana. I don't know jack-shit about this school but I might apply for kicks...although I'm not that nuts about moving that far from the people that I love. The university is located in a town called Natchitoches, Louisiana. It took me 5 tries to pronounce the town name properly (or at least in a way I am assuming is proper). Now how the hell am I supposed to live in a town when I can't even pronounce the town name? People would ask me where I live and I'd have to give them my zip code! :) "Hello! Me? Oh, I live in 71497. And you?"

Tuesday, January 21, 2003

I'm going to keep this short...because I'm too exhausted to write much...but I feel the need to write something.

Today was a stressful day. I'm still stressed and it's 9:25PM and I'm dreading my return to work tomorrow.

Right now I just want someone to hold me and tell me that it's going to be okay...and I want to believe them.

When I was a child my mother would comfort me in this way. But it doesn't seem to work anymore. Because I don't have enough faith in anybody or anything right now to believe it.
HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY TO CHRIS!

HAPPY 60TH BIRTHDAY TO DIANA, MY MOTHER!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU TWO!!! HURRAY!!!!

Thursday, January 16, 2003

Little did I know, when I last blogged, how strongly Disease had sunk her claws into me. Little did I know that I would end up leaving many offerings for the Porcelaine Goddess before the next day was through.

I was sick all Tuesday morning and Ben got worried and made me go to the doctor. I tried to tell him that it was a waste of money as I was sure that I just had two nasty viruses that hit me at once. He would not concede. So anyway I waited two hours at Health Plus for a doctor to tell me that I had two viruses stacked on top of each other. How terribly insightful! He gave me a shot in my hip for the nausea and sent me on my way...after charging me $117.

Yesterday I tried to get up to go to work but the world starting spinning half-way through my shower. I decided it was probably best to rest and get a little more hydrated before galavanting off again. After all, I didn't need another disease stacked on top of the overwhelming two that I already had accumulated.

Today I actually managed to make it back to work. (I even worked two hours over because I'm just that psycho and pathetic!) And upon my return I was confronted with one of the saddest, most shocking, and thought provoking scenarios that I've encountered in quite some time. But in order for the story to have full effect I suppose I should start from the beginning.

One of my patients, whom we'll call Alice, came to see me for the first time a few weeks ago. She was very upset because she had been downphased or had lost all of her take home doses. Take home doses are a privilege patients earn over time at the clinic by displaying good behavior, good attendance, and by providing clean urine drug screens. Alice had earned 6 take home doses and only had to attend the clinic once per week. Well, that is until she returned to the clinic one week with some pertinent information scratched off of the labels of her bottles. This is considered tampering and is a big no-no with methadone and can be indicative of diversion/selling of medication. She had had a previous offense of loss of one of her bottles and so she was deemed unworthy of the clinic's trust and all of her take home privileges were removed.

So Alice threw a temper tantrum in my office and demanded that I give her take home doses back and all I could do was explain to her why they were removed and tell her to live with it. She stated that she didn't know how she would manage to hold her job with this inconvenience, that he life was ruined etc. Anyway a few days before the New Year, she came to me and apologized for acting as she did and then she told me that she'd had a premonition. Now this is where it gets weird. She said that she had a feeling that she was going to be involved in a car accident and she wanted to make sure that her parents could gain access to her records if she were killed or severely injured. I told her that she could sign a release of information allowing her parents access to her records and she was pleased and told me that she would do it on the following day.

Well she didn't come back to see me that week and I assumed she had forgotten. But after returning back to work on January 6th, I learned that she had been involved in an auto accident on January 3rd. Creepy, eh? She was hospitalized for 12 days and she returned to the clinic today. The program director paged me to his office half-way through the morning and I thought, "Oh god, what now! Did I screw up or something? Am I in trouble?" I walked up to his office and there in his office was Alice, and she looked great except that she now only had one arm. I tried not to look but my eyes were drawn to the new stump. I said, "Oh, Alice! I'd heard you were in an accident! I'm glad to see you back." I was thinking, "Oh my god, you've lost your arm! How can you be so brave and smiling?"

And she was brave and smiling. She greeted me with a gentle smile and a peace that I really couldn't understand. How could she not be angry and crying and in the torture that I imagine I would be in if I were in her situation? As I talked with her she told me of how she had been riding home from the clinic with a friend when the car hydroplaned and flipped three times. Her arm was nearly cut off and she would have bled to death if it had not been for her friend ripping off his t-shirt and doing his best to stop the flow of blood. She survived and they tried to save her arm, but eventually gangrene set in and that was that. She told me that even though it seemed she had lost so much she had gained so much more because she had given her life to God. She said that she had been happier over the past two weeks (in spite of the loss of an appendage) than she had in her entire life. And she was so at peace and so accepting and so happy! It blew my mind! She said that she figured she had strayed so far from God that he needed something really drastic to get her attention. With her drug use she had thought that she was as low as she could go, but apparently she was not. She grew even happier when I informed her that she'll be able to transfer to a clinic closer to her home more quickly because of the fact that she was downphased (lost her take home doses) last month. Her reply was, "The Lord works in mysterious ways."

The whole situation is so strange to me. Now I've been around religious people my entire life. My mother and grandmother used to blame all the misfortunes they encountered on Satan trying to hinder them and they attributed all fortunate things to God and his protection. When trying to make sense of Alice's happiness and peace, my first thought was along the lines that she's clutching on to her faith in God to help her handle this situation...to keep her from going insane. She needs to believe right now that things happen for a reason, so she can go on and not be a bitter person due to losing her arm. One might look at the situation and note that she might have never lost her arm if it weren't for the loss of her take home doses, because she probably wouldn't have been traveling that particular stretch of road at that time on that day if it weren't for that. In the end we could determine that she just had a really shitty string of luck. But I find myself not wanting to believe that...because it's such a lonely and cruel way for things to be. My mother would probably say, "How do you know that she wouldn't have been involved in an accident with the same result if she traveled any road that day? Perhaps it was just meant to be?" Perhaps. But we can never know for certain. And that's where that thing called faith comes in. That thing that I don't have much of anymore.

I was commenting to Shawn when he was in this past weekend that I feel something missing inside of me. And that missing piece is belief. I don't know what I believe anymore. Maturity and my college education taught me to question everything and so I pulled every belief I held apart. Eventually I was left with believing in only things that I could see or that were verifiable...but those things tend to lend no comfort and no peace. And I find myself wanting comfort and peace.

Monday, January 13, 2003

Yes, my friends. Disease still runs rampant through this vessel like so many evil flem gremlins at play. She fills my lungs with mucus and wracks my body with coughing and pain.

Ever since I got back from Lexington I’ve had the nastiest cough known to mankind. I kid you not, I actually had a 45-minute coughing session at work during which the entire staff got concerned and the program director came to my side and was rubbing my back. Talk about embarrassing.

So now the cold that was beneficial in covering my ass and convincing my employers and co-workers that I truly was ill last Monday and Tuesday when I decided to skip work to be with my friends, has become a pain in the neck. Literally.

Ben keeps telling me that he thinks it’s something more serious than a cold and keeps tossing up tuberculosis as the possible diagnosis. I’m not coughing up blood yet, but there’s always tomorrow. :)

So I’m sitting here at my keyboard in my nightshirt and big, fluffy man’s robe with my heater blazing at my feet just letting the tiredness wash over me. Unwinding. My {Dsmbr by Linkin Park is playing softly on Windows Media Player and I can feel my eyes growing heavier.

This is my December, These are my snow covered dreams
This is me pretending, this is all I need


And right now I’m not gonna think about all the bills I need to pay tomorrow. And right now I’m not gonna think about all the debts that are owed to me and the debts that I owe. And I’m not gonna worry about the future. I’m just going to be here as I am and love this moment of tired, peaceful solitude.

Wednesday, January 01, 2003

And so comes the New Year.

Here I am surrounded by my friends and feeling fairly content. And fairly dehydrated. :) To celebrate the New Year, I consumed a wee bit too much alcohol last night. :) There are huge blank spots in my memory and frankly, I'm glad. My behavior during those moments was reportedly atrocious. I was told that I insulted my boyfriend's sexual prowess, yelled at people, and was generally a bitch. I'm so embarrassed! I've never blacked out like that before. I've done stupid things in the past when I've been drunk, but I've always fucking remembered it! But this? This is scary shit.

So I spent the entire morning learning of all of the nasty things I'd said and done throughout the course of the night and repeatedly apologizing for them. I feel so horrible! Another reason why I don't really drink all that often anymore. I don't like losing control over my actions. I don't like waking up with drunken unknown injuries, also known as DUIs. :) In the future I'm going to reach that nice buzz level and stay there. No more of this crazy drink all you can shit.

Of course, the drinking games that we played were a factor in that. High - Low and Fuck the Dealer got me fucked up real quick like. Never again. Or at least not for a very long time. :)

But it wasn't all bitchiness and badness. There was a lot of hilarity and actually a very nice emotional bonding session in the morning. Poor sappy drunks coming down off of their highs discussing the celebration of Christmas, religion, family, logic, death, and the necessity of belief in something. It was an enlightening conversation. And I was reminded of something very important this morning. I need to respect the requests of others...I need to not be so selfish as to force my desires upon others. Everyone has the right to chose their own path and the purest act of love and caring is to not hinder a person in his or her chosen path. I will not forget this again.

As for New Years resolutions...a couple of my friends refuse to make them. Perhaps theirs is the right way of thinking. How often have I accomplished a New Year's resolution? I can't even recall. They're simply promises...promises that you make to yourself. Do I really need another broken promise in my life? No. But I'm still making a resolution. I'm just going to keep this promise this time. Well...promises actually. Resolution # 1: I'm going to lose all of the Taco Bell and McDonald's and Pizza Hut that's hanging on around my waist and thighs. Resolution # 2: I'm going to learn to play the guitar simply because I want to. Resolution # 3: I'm going to find myself again and make peace with who I am. Resolution # 4: I'm going to pick my path...and not simply stumble along blindly as I have been doing for the past several years.
So now there's a written record of my resolutions. If I fail there are some that will know and will perhaps hold me accountable. And these things may not be attainable within one years time...but I will try.

Here's to friends, family, and the future. My wish is for a new year full of stimulation, growth, positive change, as much happiness as possible, and as much pain as necessary to teach us all what it is that we need to learn. And so it begins...

Sunday, December 29, 2002

As far as I know I'm not pregnant. I really don't know how I would handle that right now. There's so much emotional instability within me...I'm simply not committed enough to become a mother at this time.

My friends are in for New Years. We played games all evening and exchanged gifts. It's nice to see Chris, Shawn, Ken, and Leslie again. I only wish that Pat could have made it. :( Perhaps we will see him sometime this summer? I hope so. :)

Thoughts right now....I'm not really feeling up to entering grad school this semester. I'm still emotionally drained from all of the shit Ben and I have been through. I wonder how long it takes for such an exhaustion to heal? Hopefully not long. I suppose my loans will have to be in forebearance until I'm able to start paying something on them or until I go back to school. Ben's not having a job right now makes my financial situation very stressful and very ify. (If that's even a word.) But that's probably not something I should post on here because he'll get pissed at me. I'll probably get a talking to about posting as much as I have.

I just need him to be my equal in all matters. Nothing more, nothing less. But I feel that I've been getting less for a long time and I'm tired of picking up the slack. I'm so fucking tired. He hates it when I use the word fuck.

I suppose it's just the alcohol talking....4 beer type beverages and two glasses of wine later.... :) Or maybe I really am hurting and I want him to understand.

Thursday, December 26, 2002

There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning and praying to the porcelin goddess. Yes friends, as faithful and devoted as I am, I was down on my knees at 3:30 this morning paying homage to the goddess. I left her an offering. :)

You know, it's not really the act of vomiting that is so horrible really. It's the anticipation of it that's so maddening! The sickness, the hot flashes and chills, the unwillingness to have your stomach's contents come rushing back out...that's the bad part.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me! I'm still nauseous!

The girls at work kept teasing me about the possibility of pregnancy. This thought terrifies me. Ben and I are not in the position at this time to be parents. One of the girls that I work with, Kristina, and her husband have been trying to have a child for the past 5 years and have continuously met with failure. She got excited at the thought that I might be pregnant and then asked if she could have it if I was. :)

As silly as her suggestion was, it started me thinking. I know I'm not ready to be a mother at this point in time. I could not provide a stable and secure home environment and I do not want to bring a child into my world...yet. But if I did become preganant at this time adoption would be something that I would consider. There are thousands of good people out there who just want a child to love and who have been unlucky enough to be unable to conceive.

I realized from Kristina's response to my situation that her life would be complete if she were able to adopt or give birth to a child. But how hard would it be to give up the child once it is born and you've seen the little life that you've created?

Well...I'm going to bed. Hopefully this is just some funky virus or something.

Monday, December 23, 2002

If you used protection could you get some for my heart?
Now it's raging and bleeding and tearing apart.

Thursday, December 19, 2002

Well, friends, it's that time of year again. Yup, that time. Christmas time. When people (supposedly) put aside ther differences and wish for peace on earth. I really wonder if they all realize what they're wishing for. Because it's obvious to me that peace will only occur on this planet when all life has been destroyed. Happy Frickin' Christmas! :)

Eeek, but isn't that depressing? Let's see if I can turn my frown upside down. Or at least sideways.

I am excited that my friends will all be converging here just after Christmas! Ben and I have been cleaning and reorganizing rooms in anticipation of our guests arrival. Today I'm washing up all the blankets and such. Is it a little crazy to wash ALL of the blankets? Maybe. But there are some that have been sitting in the hall closet for a year...and they collected a wee bit of dust. You can't give company dusty blankets!!! Now I will give them blankets that smell like Rain Clean Tide. :)

More later. I must cook meat to feed the sentient creature that my stomach is becoming from swallowing too much sperm. It's actually started growling at me! How cute! :) Is mommy's little freak of nature hungry?

Monday, December 16, 2002


I was reading an old post on True Porn Clerk stories in which the author mentions how some porno films are parodies of mainstream films. David Cop-a-Feel is an example of one of these fine skin flicks. :)

Anyway, I started thinking that porn makers really should start making pornographic movie parodies of computer and video games. Think about it: a large percentage of people who play video and computer games tend to be physically unattractive people and, therefore, people who are most likely not having sex on a regular basis. Those people who are not having sex regularly tend to be fans of pornography. If the porn indstry cashes in on this market they could pull in millions more than they already do now!

What avid EverQuest player would pass up the opportunity to watch a porn called EverQuim in which a high elven princess is saved from an orc and then wildly fucked? What fan of Dark Age of Camelot would pass up the chance to watch Dark Age of Cumalot?

Well...it was just a thought. :)