Friday, May 28, 2010

a helix Intertwined: can't you hear?

Listen.


There is always the darkness, and it co-exists with the rest. A torch song: it is not despite the pain it exists, it is due to the pain, awoken in suffering, that meaning is grasped.

I remember this moment, that night when among 400 million people one woman's torch passions for another woman rang out, first among all. She sang for me, for so many of us. Soon, time for me to sing again. Some candles are meant for burning.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

And then there was today. Little things to AB's, like speech.

Linda spent two days and I spent a day getting ready to put the air conditioner in. It is defective, in that it produces a headache splitting whine and when the cool kicks in, the concentrator has a low hum stronger than the bass from a car. It literally knocks me immobile. I had felt before the pain of thyroid from Bass but nothing like this. Linda sat down for the first time today to rest at 11:00 pm.

I had gone to the video store, which took two hours of prep, and with going and coming, I did not return for another two hours. They had taken the DVD’s I wanted to return and charged me them, cleaning out my account savings. One eyelid was shut and the face slid down from the TIA I had experienced on the way back. At home, the pharmacy had lost our prescription and so as quickly as I could in my condition, we tried to go to our walk in clinic to replace them, as they would only accept the prescriptions today.

The walk in clinic, though not closed would not accept new patients. We tried another. After waiting, a doctor asked me about the medication. I had a great difficulty speaking, and to ‘How many pills?” it was “f…f…f..f…f..f.fffffffffoour!” Dosage? “Ffff..fff..f.f..fff..fff..ff….ffffff………….ffive milligrams.”

“What that four or five you want?” The doctor asked with a smile.

“Ffff.ff.f…f..f.f….f..f..f.f.four at ffff.f..fff..fff…f..f..f.f…f..f…f..ff.fffifvve

He didn’t even wait for me to finish, when with a slight chuckle, “How many was that, four a day or five?”

“Ffff….ffff…f..f..f…f.f.f..f..” My face was red and I felt like crying. He had seen me before, knows that I have a speech affected neurodegerative disease. Does he amuse himself this way? “ff…..f…four at ff……..f…f…f…f.f..f…f.ff.ive milligrams.” I said and he finally wrote it down.

Is this what Lene meant in that I did not learn how to be subservient enough? To be thankful, and meek. Or was turning speech or neurological disorders into the same game played by second to fifth grade bullies somehow acceptable if done by doctors? I was not thankful. I had humiliated myself because Linda was laid off and I could save money from a prescription lost by the pharmacy…only if I filled it today.

Linda laid me at home, angry, exhausted, nine hours into autonomic failure and difficulty speaking.

When I woke, I went to watch the overnight rental I had hired from Pic-a-Flic. It wasn’t there. Because they had incorrectly checked out movies onto my account, so goes the word of the guy on the phone from the person he was speaking to, ALL the films had to be returned and re-checked out. Linda was out doing some editing subcontract. She returned home at 11:00.

Tomorrow we start to re-replace the air conditioner. And hopefully take this one back. I did not sleep, or rest because the doctor’s records had one number, the pharmacy another, so hours lost there. The four hours, not to rent a disc, so much as exercise the one thing I do not have right now: consistency or control. The days of six hours emails and work, then sleep, blog, watch some DVD and rest Linda says haven’t happened for a week, to have two or three in a row, not for weeks and weeks. My body leaps awake in the night every two hours, three hours, not knowing if this is a nap or sleep. I cannot, with three meetings, emergencies, a day, ever rest. Linda, thinking we hit the finish line, and now we both start again plays maj-jong before bed.

The DVD is called the ‘Sleep Dealers’, it won many awards in Mexico about a future where connected by nano fibres, the US gets all the work it needs from Mexico but none of the people. The workers, like all commodities, and used and sold until dead. This is not a future for the living, as each shift steals the energy of another person, until they are used up. Four hours to get a DVD, not here to play when awake at 9:00 pm because I was told to return it….in order to have it again, but I could not return it today….if I wanted them to keep the money they admit taking incorrectly. “the computer” – yes, the computer can’t be altered, can’t be changed, and the people working proudly announce their drone status.

I used to ask people who pulled the ‘nothing I can do, though I screwed up, the computer you know….’, “Aren’t you kind of ashamed, openly admitting like that?”

They would look at me in puzzlement.

“You just announced to me and everyone that a machine built by humans with only 10 keys, is telling you, with billions of neural connections what you are mentally capable of. That would make me ashamed.” I would say that now, except a couple million of my neural connections related to speech seem damaged.

I have to go now, tomorrow I pack what I packed two days ago, to take apart the desk again. Then I will go boxing.

‘Whims’: DVD’s and manga. I think maybe people think that all I do is follow my whims and desires: DVD’s and Manga. And I want others to follow them too.

It is funny because most emails I got, “Bummer you tried to hang yourself, nothing much happening, watched some XXXXXXX”, indeed most/all communications which ever talk about a flu, or a cold or time off include sleep and watching something. Okay, you are ill, your body says sleep, and when awake it says ‘No, I can’t PLAY chess idiot or read Russian, I am SICK!’ and so people watch TV. Except I don’t have a TV. Or watch movies. Or read a book. Except I haven’t been able to get to the library (with Linda’s help) since whatever month (2/two) is like (2/14). Today was my first time out in 10 days not to a doctors.

So sit your ass down in bed, and put your books and magazines away (they are play, whims, idle), and shut off your TV, your computer for except for work, and have a flu, a real rampaging, head like a bowling ball cold full of sinus’. And then have people say ‘Oh, lucky you, able to play.’ If you have a book out, if you do rehab, if you work to keep your brain active.

How many books would you trade for your left eye? Mine stopped working in the last few months. I’ll trade you. How many DVD sets will you take for an eardrum?

I can’t feel my fingers, or the right side of my face. I found that out when I was trying to find my face to scratch it and my fingers came away with blood. Nice scar now. How much for each kiss on your cheek, I will give you two manga for each, and you can have my face, the one which doesn’t feel. How much ‘play’ or whimsy to feel your muscles in your arms die as mine have every night for the last several weeks. Or would you sometimes want, no matter what the energy cost, to do something, choose something?

There is no courage, or amazing way of dealing with things, not as a saint. There just is dealing. You might not feel anything much but pain, in fact, whatever good things you feel, or a nice smell, or DVD you watch will always, forever be overlaid with pain, because in keeping you constantly in pain, but with painkillers that kill first 90%, then 50%, then 35% of your pain, they are keeping the patches and fentynal for when things get really bad. And they know for sure you will die soon. Bad like AFTER you hang for what felt like minutes and minutes, probably two minutes and a bit more, it CAN seem an eternity when starting awake. I learned one thing, don’t put the buckle in front, it can allow a bit of blood to flow to the brain and just prolong how long it takes to pass out.

I had spent hours trying to clear an impacted intestine opening, colon and it hurt so bad. I kept thinking, “They say the body shits sometimes at death, I hope it does and then, it won’t hurt so damn much when I’m dead.”

Pain makes you a little crazy. Having no future, no stability, complete and utter dependency makes a person a little crazy. I worked and work, and worked to get that loop over the hook, at least twenty tries. Because I knew that I would never be able to take it off, not as exhausted as I was trying to put it on, my neck pulled tight to measure the distance.

These are my wishes, my idle pleasure: let me walk, let me use my hands again, let me walk out tomorrow and get a job, any job, and work it until I find another job and another. Let me work three jobs, and run from one to another. And on my days off, I’ll find another job until Linda is safe. And then, I will run to the end of the breakwater and back. Because it just feels so damn good! And I might roll down a hillside, for the same reason. Because it just feels good. When you are able in body it is easy in this country to enjoy things, even if you are in pain. I know. You can walk the town, you can hike the forests and the hills, the mountain tops, like I used to. Or walk from one end of the town to the other in 1 hour and a half, and turn around and do it again. I used to walk from one end of Victoria to another in LESS time than it takes me to get ready to leave, to prepare and rest and prepare and rest – and ‘the computer’ says, after four hours, and more hours sleeping that I need to do that all over again.

Got to go, pain pills starting to take the edge off, new ones in ‘f….f….f….f..f.f…f…f..four hours.”

How many hours was that again?

I wonder why I want to go out as much as I thought I did.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

This is not a holding pattern: this is life

This is not a holding pattern. I am not sure what day it is, but I will be posting part II as soon as the various disasters resolve (think how many tropical storms sometimes hit the same area over and over again in a matter of hours). I think I have been fevered for days. I haven’t eaten for similar. Also, with the end of extended health care Linda has been superbusy getting all that can be got since we don’t know what pain medications will be covered, much less heart, stroke or other medications. We found out the Sling for moving from bed to wheelchair, or floor to bed has been denied. Reasons behind this, when clients from MS to ALS use slings is beyond me (and it seems blue cross – the form was submitted some months ago by my hospital seating specialist and phsyiotherapist, not us). Also several things that were to be fixed on my wheelchair some months ago, weren’t. So I have a bed.

The crew across the road is behind schedule so now they work 12 hours straight and with more people (though oddly just one person on Friday), and they will finish framing and stuff in two animals, so they say to Linda. How I will survive, since I have major autonomic failure after 8 hours without sleep will be…interesting. It is raining heavily right now and they are putting up walls for the $750,000-$1,200,000 split level condos with vigor – no steel or concrete – now that just seems poor value, but I guess it is ‘load bearing’ wood. With the end of any coverage, all extra money has been spent on medication and other medical items putting me in the ‘Anchor dragging Linda’s Life down’ mood daily. So between that and asking her to help kill me, it is pretty festive. Thank you BC government for causing a 5-10% unemployment increase in this one town, but go Olympics!

I guess any anger I have is to cover the crying. I still am not on disability of any kind due to this provinces strange regulations, and due to the VIHA’s manager of Victoria saying a couple months ago that SHE is definitely discriminating against me due to my disability (that was after she made Linda cry). So, no assistance from our ‘manager’, or sight of them for the last many months (maybe they got laid off too). Also, we were informed that Monday (holiday) we would get no care instead of the mid-day and evening care just because. I write now as there is construction inside our apartment to put in the one new air conditioner we could afford for this year (since all tend to be on 24/7), which Linda borrowed money from me to get, which is fair only now no money for that, or indeed for going out for ‘birthday’ meal. Damn, nothing like being disabled, helpless and have to think about money and how much I cost people every (bleeping) day. So I hung myself. This has produced some interesting bruising but was not entirely successful.

The irony being that I spent what money I had this month getting gifts, for my non-parents (they don’t acknowledge really being my parents since they deal with disability this year by a) going on a LOT of vacations out of town, b) buying a new van and c) deciding they are ‘dead to me’ – so pretty much like other years) because just because they don’t love me doesn’t mean I can’t love them, so Birthday and Mother Day presents. Then, this weekend, it was sending out 14 packages of gifts, which is higher than some weeks, as well as gifts to all those kind people I have never met who show love is action, and gifts to those who send me/Linda/Cheryl postcards and gifts to those who just have similar interests to me. Also giving away some precious things preparing for my death, so Linda doesn’t have to do that.

Health: Linda and I did a list of every body system and found that every single one, including skin (the largest organ!) was compromised significantly. At the end I asked, “Are you SURE I’m not a zombie?” This week, which was to be a rest week has appointments every day, indeed, we are so busy doing things to ensure the survival of ‘ill Elizabeth’ that I, the actually Elizabeth have no reserves, or ability to rest, even with a fever because there is no day, no way to rest.

Linda is still unemployed, she is still applying. We are both now uninsured. I know others have been and are in this position – terrifying ain’t it? A NEW infection has arisen in the local hospital. The pain last night was severe, severe, severe, like unable to move, just able to have tears run down into my ears, and wondering what that noise is and finding it is me moaning painful. That’s a fun way to spend the middle of a sleep period.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Birthday Wish, Bucket List, ‘To Do’ Plans, secret wishes and Secret shames named (part 1)

Well, this WAS my going out weekend except: the Korean BBQ place has gone out of business. Plus I have been working on my blog for the last two days straight, missed the art exhibit, missed the highland games, no postcards or packages done. I did ending up buying something for myself off the wishlist because, well, Saturn Apartments was put on sale.

I also bought ‘The Maze runners’ about a bunch of teen guys who try to escape the maze but can’t and the only safe space is the 1 acre center, but they are all mind wiped of the past. At night, a dome covers the acre and when the wake up the maze has been altered. No one has gotten out. When suddenly a girl arrives and things change. Okay, I love mazes and spent many years drawing 3-D mazes, and I also had a 3-D chess set which I played, um, with myself. This was 42% off, and not at our library, so I bought it, or borrowed from a friend the money to buy it. Also because the cover looks exactly like several drawings I made in 7th grade, when we had ‘art’ for the first time in our school (taught by an ‘outlander’, an ‘outsider’, ‘the unchosen’). I loved mazes Only not only did I have the labyrinth drawn from the floor perspective but my spikes had people who had failed the maze impaled on the spikes (and bleeding into pools on the ground). This lead to much discussion and a parent/school conference and I didn’t have to take art anymore (which is too bad because I sat next to the kid who started out drawing then by the end, had covered his entire sheet of art paper black. After several months, that starts to be a pretty impressive/scary portfolio, totally blacked out paper after totally blacked out paper. Anyway, I hope to be able to read this book and not have authorities watch me a lot.

This was going to be the ‘what I wish for..’ and ‘Secret Shames….’ Only doing that has 72 pictures. 72!!!! That is one giant blog. So today I am doing my birthday clothes, and then like four of my birthday wishes and four of my secret shames.

You are encouraged in comments to a) Tell me how hot and sexy I am – this applies for just about any post, except ones on pain, death, and bits of my flesh rotting. b) share your own goals, since they don’t have to be something that you are going to do tomorrow, but can be something like a life goal. Since my life is counted in months (see, I am up from weeks, and some people don’t call me an optimist!), I HAVE taken, ‘Global Domination’ and ‘Learn to read 9 languages’ off of my list (or changed that to ‘learn to read six languages’). c) share your secret shames, hopefully reading mine will help you remember yours. Tomorrow is all about new and different ones and the following post as well.

Secret Shames: Okay, last time there was a misunderstanding about Secret Shames. They have to be something you kinda want to be a secret in most company. For example a lesbian saying they watched Charlies Angels….not a secret shame, a butch lesbian saying they had ‘my little pony’ collection….and they still play with them – that might be something they don’t want to tell someone right off. Or like when they tied their sibling to the hitch on the back of the car. Or when they set fire to the couch at Xmas! Secret shames. You’ll see.

So far on the birthday present front: two (I didn’t even get one from Linda!). SUCKS!

I had planned a birthday with me ala Birthday Suit but alas, I got ill again and b, not so good with trunk control these days (the plan was to be in my intimates and have my panties in my teeth as a SUBTLE sign).
Problem is if I can’t sit up to do that. And the care workers? Well, when asking care workers if they would assist in positioning me and toys for good masturbation/intimacy, hysterical laughter is one of the better replies (long stare and then walking out of the room murmuring a prayer one of the not so good).

“What?” I say, “I get horny too, just like you!” (more prayers/laughter) “We just put this under ‘Shower prep’ or ‘Sleep Prep’....you know female masturbation has been shown to be very effective for insomnia!”

Nada.

Linda did braid my hair for me (she find braids erotic, and so do I – mmmmmm, Gretchen!)

I just want to mention in passing that I am horny. I was expecting birthday sex, and I was planning a culmination of many days of birthday masturbation and neither happened. I am deeply undersexed right now. I need energy, an erotic story and a bit of friction...without a careworker or Linda popping in to check my temperature (actually right now I am so low on reserves an orgasm might make me pass out..but that could be fun too!). I deeply need bed days but the most I get is the ‘Pass out – end up in bed an hour – get back to work’ circle. But as you can see, even when I am working, I am..er...distracted.

Oddly, while the massive amount of drug dulls my sensate, and my nerves are kinda dead, my mind longs for the tingle in the nerves (maybe now dead), the tingle in the brain, as the ohhhhhhhh and ahhhhhhh, rise in the mind. Hey, I am not JUST about sex (just about it right now!).

On my list, wish and goal number 20 on my ‘wish list of things to do before I die’, right after ‘Get a medical degree’ is ‘Epee Fencing as Foreplay’. I have the epee gear, I have my good blade Val, from my last tournament, and now those tight leather wheelchair gloves. I only need the whole three piece lingerie kit (and body to match). I could use one of those. Most of my stuff is WAY too practical. What kind of tragedy does that say about a woman when most of her lingerie is PRACTICAL. Sigh. Anyway, red hair, check, red scarf (can do, might have skulls), little boots, well how about kicking kinky 5 inch high heels on PVC boots. See, standing up isn’t a problem, I just need a few people to prop me up against a wall somewhere. Then I can make erotic circles with my epee tip, or come ‘en guard’ and do the opening salute.

Hey, I never said the wish list needed to make rational sense. We live in altogether a far too rational world! Fantasy and fun seem secondary and that is kind of scary (what is point of being a ‘free world’ if you can’t get some epee fantasy sexy going?).

Of course Linda is no slouch on the blade herself, doing very well in the foil for a couple years and significantly progressing in tournaments on the epee. And NOW she has a Pirate Queen outfit, complete with corset. Whee! Oh, I know this one from the books. She is the dread Pirate and she takes over the ship where I have been sent off by my rather evil step-father into an arranged marriage wishing in my heart that I had not spent a life as a flower kept from life, sent off like a merchants’ goods but rather, finally seeing life for myself. And along comes my Pirate! Now at first, a few maidenly shrieks, then of course the ‘stow her in my cabin’ (which ends up with some other kind of shrieks later – hey, I’ve read my smut...er...erotica, I know how this goes!). That would be a fun fantasy.

‘Oh no’, I shrink before the Dread Pirate Linda, ‘What happens now?’ I ask as she slowly and gently strips my gauzy layers off me.

“I show you the world” Dread Pirate Queen Linda replies.

mmmmmm……

Oh, by the way, this would be a REALLY good time for your boss to walk by.

Hmm……the other birthday sex fantasy is Linda coming in and ‘rescuing me’ from my work and books. You know, the striding in and telling me to ‘put down that book’ before carrying me off to bed in her arms. (Yeah, okay, I can fantasize a bit of domination sex). Of course, the problem is that I am several inches taller than Linda and she isn’t currently working out for Ms. Canada Weightlifting. I mean if I was 5’2” (which by the way ALL the romance girls are, or they are 5’7” or 5’8” and 100-115 lbs – HAHAHAHA! I mean, of course they are. This actually bothered me SO MUCH that I asked every 5’7” and 5’8” female I met if they were within those weights and found ONE – and she was a professional ballet dancer.) then sure but not at 6’3.5”. I have been DRAGGED by a limb by Linda. But I don’t think huffing and puffing and ‘Oh GOD, I hope I don’t hurt my back’ counts as talking sexy and dirty to me. She has rolled me over onto a towel or sliding sheet but again, being hauled like a toboggan with grunting from Linda and being carried in one’s loves arms and placed on the bed with rose petals is rather different.
I just need to go on a diet. However, the last time I was severely anorexic Linda wouldn’t get intimate with me after bruising herself on my pelvic bone sticking out. Plus when I get super anorexic and she says, “No, stick insects don’t arouse me, and seeing ALL of your bones through your skin doesn’t either.” Sort of leaves me in a dilemma. See, I could lose weight if I stopped being able to leg brace but that would affect….

Wish #17 of things ‘to do’ – Be wild, tempestuous and learn the Tango! Yes, I have decided that I want to be WILDER, more, I am not sure what, just MORE. Maybe go around in red and black goth wear and give little skeleton candies to children or something. Or Tango with people in the center of city hall outdoor square (since that is right near the red light district, I might risk ‘solicitation’. “Want to Tango?” I ask. The police officer says, “Oh is that what they call it now? Put your arms out for the cuffs.” I bite back the thought of saying, “Okay officer but that will cost extra!” – did I mention I was HORNY!).

Okay, next is a secret shame unrelated to sex. Well sort of unrelated.
Secret shame #21: In high school, I wanted to be a..oh, I can hardly say it...a cheerleader. I even got to the point where I started to talk about wanting to apply. Friends intervened and I was talked down. (Let’s face it, it is hard to play varsity basketball and cheer for the guys team AND girls at the same time. Also, I seem to be born ‘cartwheel hindered’, which is beyond the arm pump and hip swivel a basic cheerleader move.

Secret Shame #8: Okay, and this is a secret shame that I don’t really talk about to anyone except Linda. I am afraid of underwater. Seriously. Even as a child, I totally freaked when they tried to teach me water-skiing because of the sharks. I was 8, and on a lake but I couldn’t SEE below, ergo, sharks. I mean, at our Olympic pool, the bad vision and HEAVY chorine made a giant whale shape down at the deep end. Yes, that’s right, I honestly was afraid of swimming the length of the pool due to Moby Dick living in it. And if you think it is better if I go underwater, no it gets WAY worse, because there are things everywhere – I have underwater agoraphobia….severely. I can’t watch a lot of films where they go down in the ocean – the descent is just TOO much to watch. Now, that doesn’t stop me from swimming or going to see Imax on the Titanic, it is just…I am terrified and Linda holds my hands a lot and I close my eyes a LOT.

Wish #1, to do: Ug, enough of that, so lets go back to the positive, which is the wish number one. I want to go outside, and just watch the clouds and find shapes (more – more than zero). Like the art above, I see an Elephant and Linda sees Britain. I can only reconcile that in she must be looking at one cloud and I am looking at the spaces between the clouds. Or just what our minds are on, that is what finding stuff in clouds is about.

Secret Shame #12/To do #22: Yes, it is both a secret shame AND a ‘To do’ and it involves a trombone. And no, it doesn’t involves 76 of them. My secret shame is that I have never been able to put the phrase ‘spit valve’ into a normal sentence. I have twice been able to use ‘defenistrate’ when it made perfect sense, “Um, I think the main character is this film is about to defenistrate the villian”. There are other words, Gargoyle, Wyrd, Geuss (yeah, influenced by Clarke Ashton Smith and the 11th edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica – for those who don’t know, the 11th edition is the edition where Britannica got all the BEST experts of the field in Oxford, Cambridge, Sorbone, and other top experts to write these 20-60 page entries. After that, the Britannica went to using paid researchers, so you get the ‘Cambells’ soup answer or explanation instead of the ‘exclusive French Chef’s’ cuisine). But no, never been able to use the phrase ‘spit valve’ in a sentence.

BUT, I am also fascinated by the slide bar and have always, even before playing in an orchestra thought the slide bar would have wonderful potential for playing someone a solo and using it as erotic foreplay. The teasing sliding with a seductive look and wink seems potent for sexual foreplay, doesn’t it? So I guess I will need to learn the trombone.

Wish #8 to do: Write another great novel. I have been gearing up to do this now for a while (not being able to tell time, I can’t say) by doing what I do, reading as much and as vast a variety of literature as possible. Thanks to a good friend from Ergo, and a book swap, I have read a book this week I wouldn’t normally, ideas which still bounces in my head. I am reading Name of the Flower 4 (which is great, and the series finish, the manga follows the seasons of the flowers, through 4 seasons/volumes, finishing with can one person who has no way to share herself and only smiles and is quiet to stop being thrown out break out to be herself with a man who has been convinced by his past and family that he is only deserving of contempt?) Also reading The Stories of Ibis (amazing writing, and as a writer, a slap in the face to do MORE!), as well as a dozen other books. I read about 10-12 books a week minimum. Due to some intestinal problems that has gone up over 20 manga and 8 or 9 novels, so I am VERY thankful, since I am too ill to get out to the library, to those who have gifted me a novel or manga through the gift list.

I read east and west, old and new, so that I am a wheeling Meta-novel, the references to Buddha, to the Torah, to Christianity and the literature coming from them all turn in me. I have started putting up the slogans to writing, “10 words to get them to read 200: 200 words and they will read the chapter” – to remind me that we live in a jaded world, and need to write to make an impact, fast. Last time, with Zed, I had plot and the pain and humor was written in through rewrites. Right now, I have too much intensity, that I need a story which allows that to come through, or seeth, controlled beneath the surface. I write 1,000 words a day easy and that means if I live 60 days, it is a youth novel, if I live 100, a regular novel. I will likely have to write ‘This is my day’ blogs for a while and 1 or 2 ‘big theme’ blogs a week while I write. But I am getting ready. This is the first third, writing is the second third, and editing is the final third. Once I need a readers group, I will make an announcement.

Secret Shame #21: back in the bad old days before personal internet, I was living in different basement and only had access through university computers. And so I started going to university computers and reading erotic fiction at various member submitted sites. I was there, getting um, moist on campus, signed in for research and reading erotic (stuff that to 19-20 year old me seemed very, very DIRTY to me, but gosh and golly did it ever make me tingle!). Well, one day a member of my CHURCH comes out (I switch screens) and lets me know that they work at this university library and how am I? And then they say, “I just want you to KNOW that the university computer administrators can see EVERYTHING that you see on your screen and if you aren’t using the computers for research, they can go so far as take your computer pass away.” And then they wandered away.

The sweat popped out on me. And the screens that were immediately closed. And I stood up and walked out a normally as a horny jittery person could. Oh Great! Already internally tortured for being aroused but now guilty for being TOTALLY busted. Yup, that’s my secret shame, I was caught using research university computers to read dirty stories. True.

Wish #14 and #15 of to do: #14 is to have ‘more sex but not be caught by the caregivers’ and number #15 is ‘have more sex again!’ Look, I have strawberries and cherries in chocolate AND whipped cream! All of Linda's favorites - eat me, eat me! Okay, it is not like I have one track...um...mind. But I have been cared for, I have been working morning till sleep for as long as I know, and on vacations I do even more then spend 4 hours blogging about it before the next day. I just haven’t had the time to prioritize intimacy. And now I am, I am prioritizing it. And Linda just ‘proofed’ under my bed (The ‘five year old’ me when scared crawls under the bed and last time I passed out with my head stuck between two bars, according to Linda). Linda and I have talked about the type and kind of intimacy that is appropriate or comfortable for the ages and dementia levels. Basically a five year old you hug, a tween you play with, a late teen you fool around with, and a young adult is more than ready to go, but a little insecure, while me, um….I dunno, I’m just not sure that sex interests me. HAHAHAHA! I mean, yeah, tie me up, tie me down!
Okay, one last of each and the rest will come over the next couple posts. But I would like some feedback from this posts and maybe a secret shame (and a wish to do) from YOU in the comments.

Wish to do #11: (Yes, they really are numbered), LEARN TO THROW KNIVES. I guess I always thought that only odd psycho guys did this, that and movie heroines. But these days, I am pretty helpless. I might have ‘heart’ according to the boxing coach but I don’t want to live in fear. And throwing knives is something I have secretly wanted to do for about 15 years. I even tried to get a holder for the middle of my back for a throwing knife (based on a description from a Louis L’amour western book – that holder doesn’t exist). Now I would have leg holders and upper arm holders. And since I can’t touch my own nose and drop things about 15 times a day including: toothbrush, toothpaste, my pill container, my drink bottle (3 times), my book, and more, the hand eye coordination on a macro level could work with the hand-eye coordination on a micro level that I am starting to do with the PS2000 (largest hand controls), as prescribed by my doctor – the PS3000/2000, not the knife throwing. Any knife throwers out there?

Secret Shame #16: I have, SHAMELESSLY, overplayed my ignorance and clumsy aspects over the years in order to get guys/butchs to fix from cars to toasters for me. Like when the lesbian network newsletter came with a plumbing course offered and Linda and I looked at each other: “Isn’t that why men and landlords were invented?” I asked and she nodded and that was about it. Oh, I know all the components names, so that I can get them JUST wrong enough to have the person explain them to me as they are fixing it for free. Yeah, when it comes to a garage, I usually have a good idea what the problem is, and play the ‘dumb girl’ who says, ‘It makes a noise!” and if they start saying stuff all over the place then I go elsewhere. EXCEPT when it comes to my computer. Don’t mess with my computer! I don’t build it from the board up but I do determine what goes on it, and usually figure out what is wrong. I used to, it is one thing being so exhausted and mentally fogged that frustrates me, that this ‘smart’ part of me is going.

But yes, I have even gone so far as to go, “I don’t know, the handle goes up and down but nothing happens” when a guy/butch was over so THEY would remove the top and drop the rubber stopper down so I wouldn’t have to wash my hands of the old rubber smudges on them. Besides, the people who seem to like to make stuff or put it together or fix stuff seem so darn HAPPY to fix it, how can I deny them this pleasure by actually learning enough to fix it in front of them (then they just get sad).

I think I may not be the only one who has, at times, acted too dim to be able to fix a tire (because changing rusted lug nuts=hard and boring) when there are lots of guys around. But I am, somewhat ashamed as an independent woman to still have to ‘pretend’ (of course a lot of the ‘fix it type’ you could say exactly what the problem is and they wouldn’t believe you unless THEY look).

So, your secret shame?

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

My weekend and why Linda calls me 'Sheldon'

We had a pretty good weekend, until the third hour of it.

I WAS going for Korean BBQ that evening(except they were on vacation for a week), so while deciding we went to the local markets. The natural soap and carver was there with new products, including both mini-watermelon and apricots.
Last year a potter had been making skeleton cookie jars but had moved on to mugs as well as fossilized dinosaur pattern mugs. Cool. I was like, “Where’s the lid?” because Linda had hinted at a skeleton cookie jar. No lid.

There is an inner court of stalls, then an outer court with the foods. Inside there is a guy singing busking songs and outside there was a woman with a Celtic ‘Lap Harp’, I think it is 42 strings. We bought some cheese at the Award Winning Qualicum Cheese Factory we had visited before (now they come to us – score!). They were Finalists in the Brie category for all of Canada (Brie is the one where the stuff that normally tells you your bread, clothes, or shoes have been hanging around to long covers cheese and this makes it ‘strong’ – yeah, kind of like a men’s locker room I’m guessing. I don’t do ‘strong’ cheeses, sorry).

Off to the side there is even a play area for children which even has its own Zip Line. Pretty cool. This guy was using it to Zip back and forth.

What is amazing is he was a least a foot shorter than being able to reach the holding ring (and thus probably years too young for those who planned what age should use it – but does that ever stop a kid?). He was climbing up on bolts and jumping to grab the ring, and then would ride it across every time he caught it.

Here is a picture of the corner of the market, if you don’t get the irony, then it is just a nice tree, blooming. We left and went to the James Bay market afterward. Making a brief stop at home. While Linda went inside, I talked to the animals.
It was a sunny and warm day and people were taking out their collectable vehicles for the first big rides of the year. I think this is a Bentley beside us, I love the tires.

In James Bay, Whimsical Jam was there, and we talked to them and bought some peach jam for Linda. Then I talked to the potter who last year would not use the Amazing blue in her pottery because she was pregnant now had her baby and was using blue again! And more was going to be on display next week, this week just these two. This, according to Linda is an oil and vinegar set. While to me it is clearly perfect for making flambe’! Not enough flambe’ in this world: flambe’ waffles in the morning, flambe’ omlettes, flambe’ open beef sandwich….the ideas are endless. Next week they are having a gallery showing of the artist of James Bay…..up at least 20 stairs. DARN.

Here is the artist who blows glass and makes tidepools which Linda bought. This year he was making mini stars and Galaxy’s inside of glass balls. They ranged from $90-$150 but were amazing to look at. He also created octopus as well as these jellyfish necklaces (we are very sea themed here on the west coast island).
As for me, I found a left over Anarchy necklace. It had been left over because an older woman wanted it because she was named ANN, the owner explained before final sale that the symbol had slight other meanings besides an A. Her loss was my gain. I told the woman watching the stall for the glass blower that Anarchy is not about bad or violence, it merely supports the removal or collapse of a previous system so rapid change, for good or ill, rises in place (we hope for good, oddly, we keep getting ill).

She said, "Wha? Yeah, sure." I got it for $10 (you can see it here with my cooling ‘kerchief and a pack of ice down my back). Ah, it all comes together, the red hair, the Anarchy symbol, now I just need a big flag and a line of police to charge in my wheelchair!
Sadly the heat did me in at this point and with the fever, nausea in extreme, shaking, and the desire to have my skin turn inside out as well as my body getting hotter and hotter, I had full blown heat stroke as the dizziness and confusion increased. And voided my entire intestines. Despite the ‘warnings’ to go to a hospital (yeah!), I was wheeled to bed, lifted in, iced, and lay alternating mumbling things and shivering before sleeping. The fever broke nine hours later. The good news is that I did NOT going into a coma! The bad news is I didn’t go out for dinner, and having 2 hours out from 11-1 in May means full heat stroke, then will I be able to leave this apartment until autumn? I hope so. So, got the 1 in 3 bad disaster weekend out of the way.

Getting up, I worked with Cheryl and Linda into the WEE hours doing postcards, 54 in all, down the list, making sure that people who might have been missed for a while were getting one. I hope they come at the right time, since I have been hearing people getting the ‘lurgy’ or varients which go into the lungs right away all over the country, so I hope a postcard gets to them when they are down.

In the evening Linda and I have been renting ‘The Big Bang Theory’ which is sort of like watching some guys I knew at uni. But during one episode, at one point, returning from a Renaissance Faire, Sheldon (ASD and self absorbed brainiac!) was complaining about the inaccuracies at the Faire. However his complaints were so egregiously wrong I had to pause the show to explain to Linda about disregarding those INACCURATE complaints because the period Sheldon was talking about was late middle ages of central Europe not the explosive intellectual/artistic explosion in Florence. That is what spread not only exchanged through the emerging postal system which carried the challenges of mathematics, puzzles of art perspective, and treatises but the education centers of University of Paris, Oxford and others, quoting from the excellent biography of Layola (founder of the Jesuits) who went to Paris.

I stopped at this point because Linda was laughing so hard that she was crying, and couldn’t seem to stop laughing, as she would look at me and say, “Yes Sheldon” and then start laughing again.

I tried to remain aloof and simply restarted the show, but soon had to make a correction of late middle English pronunciation which the show had wrong and set off Linda into hysterics again.

Sigh.

She giggled constant throughout but did turn to me at the end, when the main character broke up with the wonderful Leslie Winkle ("Come for the boobs, stay for the brains") due to what theory of physics they would teach their children. Leslie believed in Quantum and Sheldon (and the main character) believed in String. I explained (briefly) the step from the grandfather Newton to father Einstein and his theories. My own observation is that Winkle was right because Quantum physics is about TESTS and results and working equations from that to find the laws of this universe, while string theory cannot BE tested.

Life impacts theory and vice versa, so the pragmatic aspects that women have to deal with and compromise about not just historically but as part of life, makes Quantum is an extension of that. Because one can have an idea but when a single aspect of data (like recent finding of the fact that stem cells grow differently in space – hence the idea of colonies in space suddenly is less attractive to women who REALLY don’t want to see what the first child would be like!) requires a change in universe constants and our perspective. String Theory, like male masturbation, has endless variety and playing with itself but has no tangible effects or ability to test (and the idea that you can get paid to do this, oddly enough, attracts a high percentage of men to that field) – while Quantum, you get it wrong, and instead of a baby, you get cancer.

Now most of the time when we watch Big Bang Theory I point out to her that while I have OCD, a cleanness issue, space issues, tend to overthink the optimal, I keep saying, “I don’t do THAT” while she giggles at various places.

We work at getting by. We work at contact, and intimacy of space despite the pain (I fell twice yesterday, the second time hurting my elbow, hip and leg badly). Or I do, because the pain is what makes me something I would not want to be. I want to put defensive, cranky, and pain hazed interpreted Elizabeth on the shelf and let the vulnerable Elizabeth’s back out (problem is they need someone to catch them emotionally: in order to remain open and vulnerable, it creates fragility). So with my birthday midweek, I live in a future I hardly believe, of years I can’t remember. And the knowledge of the pain I live but the pain I have caused others. I know individuals who believe I deserve this, and it is my fear that Linda was chosen, or persecuted once again with a layoff BECAUSE I exist, because I am ill, and fear that deep down she wants to yell, ‘It is your fault!’, and then she's gone. She won't, because her daily acts of thoughtful kind love after years of hard caregiving should tell me otherwise. It tells me she cares. My fears keep whispering though.

Canada particularly always seeks to find whose fault it is, or rather to avoid taking responsibility and end up at fault. So to get ill, I was told, it must be genetic. It must be because I have displeased God. It is my sins come back to haunt me, etc. I live in a brain where time has stopped that day part of it died and yet I must face things every time I wake up. The day after the postcards I went for dental cleaning (Linda knew this was included and oddly did not tell me, due to the 'worry factor'), exam AND plates to avoid cracks and chipping from pain teeth clenching and seizures. The cleaning took 90 minutes. I talked to the person doing the scaling and cleaning and asked her to ‘kill it all, every little bit’, and then, suctioning blood, asked her to go back and do the back wisdom teeth as well as other areas AGAIN. There was a LOT of blood.

Linda was reading a magazine when the tech said, “um, is she…” and Linda looked and said, “Yeah, she’s passed out.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Oh yeah,” Linda assured her, “No worries!” I passed out twice, had a seizure and a TIA. The pain was, well, I kept telling myself, “hang on, hang on…”

A close relation was having their cleaning at the same time and talked to Linda was I was out (seizure or TIA I think), they saw me come to, use the arm I could use to raise is the air and rasp out, “Kill, kill, kill!” and back in with the tools the Tech went. The relation said, “It just isn’t fair how she gets to have fun doing this!”

Ah….er?

At the end, I had no cavities, no problems and declared myself ‘ready for toffee!’ That is, once I finished keeping the fluoride in my mouth for 30 minutes.

And thus goes my birthday week so far. No, not the greatest, I will admit.

I’d love to hear how your weekend went. And if it was a ‘SPLAT’ at least you know you have company. Next weekend we are hoping to get out to the highland games, which are here in town. I have always wanted to do the dancing with the really expensive leather shoes with lacing round the ankles (they cost about $110, I checked). Plus I can practice a bagpipe for at least 2-3 minutes (how long can it take to learn anyway?) without Linda noticing.Because I have a plan for LINDA’s birthday. I wish to surprise her with my rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ on the bagpipes. I haven’t actually played them, as such, but I have read a book and am pretty up on the theory (it is hard to practice the bagpipes in an apartment and end up surprising her when the time comes, you know what I mean?). So she has that to look forward to.

Next post, I will be writing about Birthday ‘wishes’ (my number one wish is ‘one more year’ – since Linda says that 'NO, I am not actually just down with mono and daily exercise will NOT cure this' – I told her next year I can wish for ‘one more year’ again). But mostly about ‘Secret Shames’ and asking you to share them.

Yes, those secret shames like whose picture you had in your locker and which male readers got a perm (or blower drying in the school locker to look like David Bowie or Shawn Cassidy)? One of Linda’s secrets: She actually had a ‘Hang in There’ poster with a kitty. Me? I had an under the hood programming K.I.T.T. car from Knight Rider. Oh yeah, there wasn’t exactly an INNER HIDDEN geek.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Birthday Outing with Hello Kitty: the bunny killing Pirate

Uggggg……………….heat. It has been ‘nice and sunny’ which means ‘I have high blood pressure, a giant headache and threats of a stroke” – when you can’t sweat, heat is scary: your heart beats faster, the blood pressure rises, all things to increase sweat…which doesn’t happen, so I get more TIA (micro strokes) while I sleep and wake with a huge ‘heat headache’.

I am getting ready for my birthday going out. My birthday falls between the two weekends. I was totally off about Kent State, as I find due to the computer age. I had done those ‘look it up in the newspaper assignments’ and they way they talked about Kent State made me sure it was the day before. It wasn’t, it was almost three weeks earlier. Now, a quick google and I get the whole scope including that this year, a new park where the events took place has been created, a National Park, so one Cheryl has NOT visited (since she works for the National Parks).

Tomorrow I am off on some outings, though I had two doctor’s appointments back to back (along with the encouraging (NOT!) statement, "Don't give up, stem cell research is really advancing for neurodegenerative diseases" - because the amount of Stem Cell DNA Vaccines, translants, or regrowths currently in Victoria=0). I am slept up and pretty much ready to go (ignore the erratic heart).

We brain stormed where to go, “How about a Steak House?”

Linda: “NO!” scoff, “Like we can afford that!”

Me: “Fine, this year you get an ice cream cone for YOUR birthday!”

We are tentatively looking at a Korean BBQ, which is something we tried and liked in Japan and a new one has opened here in town. The back up to that is a South America cuisine place with also serves pitches of Sangria. Technically I was banned from there a long time ago when some people I was with set fire to the table in a odd version of dating ‘one-up-manship’ (I steal the folks, You steal the sugar despenser, I set fire to the table, you add alcohol, etc) – it taught me to avoid taking people with very low inhibition thresholds to restaurants I liked.

I did get in the post a couple things for the postcards this week. One is the Hello Kitty the Pirate stickers (they are very rare and yes, sparkly), where HK has a pirate hat with skull AND a Pirate ship with treasure and all. The assistant bunnies all seem to be gone by the time the treasure is buried (sing it like pirates of the Caribbean: “dead bunnies tell no tales…….dead bunnies tell no tales..”). The other are a couple of sticker sheets from when Hello Kitty ran away to the circus (She REALLY does get around).

From a seller on livejournal I bought some stickers, which I did not know were being sent….from a person teaching in CHINA. So I have a Chinese envelope and stamps, if someone collects stamps let me know and I can send them to you. The sticker on the envelope is of a 'ball joint doll' showing you how realistic and complex (And expensive!) they are. A good description of ball joint dolls and getting on from the creators is in the manga book Japan Ai: A Tall Girl's Visit in Japan. The stickers are 1.5 inches by 3 and show Hello kitty with her Winter Court, Hello Kitty out shopping, Hello Kitty selling crack cocaine (naw, I threw that last one in to fool you!), also some stickers from series ranging from K-ON! (now in season 2), to Lucky Star, Chobits and Fate/Stay Night. Looking forward to sending them all over the world! Stickers are FUN!

Birthday time outside! Gotta go…

Thursday, May 13, 2010

'Some people who refuse to be caught': Max Manus

Max Manus, a remarkable individual simply because as the Gestapo Agent after him said at the end of the war, “There are simply some people who refuse to be caught.”

The story of Max was too large for a movie, and Norway had few war heroes: taken without resistance, known as ‘Fortress Norway’ with 300,000 German and SS troops. When Finland was invaded by the Russians, many were against it, a few went to far as to enlist as volunteer troops, fighting a winter war against the worlds most efficient and effective army. One day, the Norwegian volunteers were lined up and informed that their country had been taken over, without a fight.

Max, without a chain of command, without orders, refused to accept that and returned with a group, and took over a Fortress from the Germans. They chose a leader, and for two months there WAS war in Norway against the Germans.


The film could not cover this, nor all of his operations as a saboteur, since as he says in the documentary, it was 10 operations to every one that succeeded, but his successes were huge. One significant operation likely saved the lives of 70,000 young men of Norway. He became obsessed with a single giant transport and armed ship, the one which had taken the Jews away from Norway. One attempt took two years, in building a human guided torpedo. He was found crying in the wetsuit over the failure of the torpedo.

This film, based on his two books written in 1945-6, has a 45 documentary with the filmmakers but more importantly with Max and all of his friends, those who survived. As they said, Max took every loss personally, it weighed on him. Towards the end, he became fatalistic, depressed. He was human, his hands shook by the end, but he kept on.

I ordered this DVD new, and watched it, then kept it 'As NEW' as I do. It is region 2 so if anyone who can play region 2 would like to trade a DVD or manga, or just would like to watch it, I would rather it go to a good home than sell it. I want it to be seen again. I guess I can identify with someone who, with no high structure, no command, just daily struggle to survive, alone in an occupied country, and strike back. I just wish I had the strike back part, but I can live vicariously. Watch the trailer and let me know in email or comments. I recommend this film highly.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Breaking Point: a verbal snapshot

Extract from a letter to Linda at respite in Port Angeles.

I know you aren't going to see this until you get home, or maybe not at all.

I wonder where you went for Dinner, you wrote you were going out. I was going to get pizza but I don't have any funds, and I can't find a simple dinner that I have the hand dexterity to cook. Part of me knows that it is okay, that it does matter, that you would and will make the same opportunity for me. A Dinner out, lunch with friends, or just a get together with drinks. I know in my mind that this is what I want for you. I also feel left behind. With no food how do I have the after dinner pills? Thank goodness you put or the (care) workers put the grapes in containers and the pickles as well or I would not have had those, also the same for the grape juice. I put more of the drink containers and a cleaner tablet on the wish list - there is a cleaning unit including a pipe thing for the straw, I wonder if I should include that?

I wonder what was for lunch. I am glad that Cheryl took you in your caregiving burn out state and was there for you - a lunch ready for you, a place to eat, dinner and lots of sleep. I hope you felt special and loved, because from the description that is what Cheryl did, gave you the love and space you needed. I hope that helped. It is odd because it is like the dream day I have wanted, when I say I am suicidal, to be taken away, a 'surprise' lunch outside, or a dinner in the van stargazing, or a dinner out and drinks stargazing. I think from my health cancellations I am owed a few dinners and pubs out, but we know I won't collect. Truth be told, I just want to keep on not eating, as it makes things easier, more real. Your life in colour, and across space, time, people, and mine in a room, only seeing those who confront me…

In case you are thinking about it, I always like to hear from you, like to hear about your day, even when you are a wall away. When I don't, that means I am in pain, that I am messed up and like someone tending to a wounded animal that pulls away, the times you take that breath and help me with a pain pill, and the times you help me to bed so that I face you, and you talk to me, read to me, show me that you want to be with me are all I remember. I can't remember now exactly what we fight or get frustrated about, that only comes when that particular loop or bubble of info is opened up. I don't really like my writing to you, my desiring to talk to you being a 'by the way...' but I guess it is. For you, a sunny day, for me, sounds of hammers and saws at high pitch. You hope for sunny days and I hope for rain, because I can't go out and so I hope for what will make the noise stop. Maybe I should wheel out and wander by myself for a few hours, take the van out. I think maybe that you wouldn't like that though - a respite from dying. Returning, would there be love or cold silence and anger? Right now, I miss you, but I know you will be mad at me, I just don't know why. I always miss you. I want you to love and cuddle me - not after we say things to each other that hurt, but because you see me, and remember how much you love me. I don't know if that Linda is here - I think she is out in the sunshine, but not in the biege of plaster walls.

I hope you have a great dinner and enjoy yourself. I also hope some 'get well' cards came for Cheryl. I got up early and I am supposed to go to sleep early so I will be more in synch with the world and can let in the worker at 1:30 (I got up at 2:00 p.m. - had slight problems sleeping because my shoulder was in total spasm as it was the night before, I am slightly worried as this is what happened before I lost the use of some of my leg and feet muscles. And without the shoulder and connecting back muscles, it will mean I am down to one arm. That will make it difficult to play volleyball and learn how to dance yes?).

The muscles were still going crazy by themselves at nap time, good thing we have the medical m.

I understand now that I don't want to be dying, and I don't want to be left out of life again, but that it is my place, my destiny if you will. You have been here and been supportive (at the Y) and now they found a volunteer (to come to the Y with me) and you can go and do things with friends and go out and visit people and meet people and join groups and do things. People like you, they really do, I might be the one who goes boxing, but you are the one they talk to, even when they talk about me, they never ever talk TO me.

The fact that it is horrid and dull and dreary and it makes your life more difficult to caregive for me and you choose, maybe, to do it anyway, if that is what you choose. That is amazing. That is joy and love. Love definitely. I guess the joy takes work. I feel filthy and disgusting and I want to tell you to not come back, to stay with someone who loves you and feeds you and cares for you like you deserve. Why do you have to burden yourself with me when you have walks in the woods in sunshine? I think it has been a year since I had a wheel in the woods. And by myself, I think maybe years if ever. So why come back? Dying isn't a choice. And I would leave (my dying) if I could. Caregiving is a choice, every part of it. And there must be parts you hate, that make you sick of doing them. I just think it best if you don't tell me, because I already know you are sick of me living, that there must be a whisper thinking, "when will it be over?" Maybe I am the one giving you the benefit of having doubt when you haven't asked for it, mediating your mind, your intentions. Sigh.

You don't talk about dinner - is what happens over there, the time you had, the places you go, the things you do like counselling? It is something which I should not ask about, but just yours to share as you wish? You don't write what you think about either. Just that you miss me. I guess that means your thoughts are not mine (to share). I thought a lot about The Rose today (from the book The Little Prince), and how, maybe the snake made the same offer (as to you, the Prince). And though she (the Rose) was vain, and though she was scared and showed it by being proud, and complaining at times about the shade, that her pedals were already wilting from the heat before it came. That it was her fear shining through. And so with the Little Prince gone she realized that what life she had was not a life at all, but that the little Prince did have a life and visited all those people, and made new friends who cared about the Little Prince and as long as she lived, on this tiny planet which rotated every day with the volcanoes which needed cleaning, she wouldn't just be a prisoner, but the little Prince would as well. And that's why, the more she saw the little prince or thought of the little prince, the more she wanted the snakes' bite, so that he would always have the choice to go or stay. She could give choice back, the chance for new friendships, the chance for new opportunities. That's what I think about a lot. (a plan to take a drink of crushed barbiturates: a.k.a. the 'snakes' bite')

I know I am scared, and a coward. But I think I can be brave once, for you. I think it would be nice to see the sun before I go though. I didn't shower today because I could not stand up and breathe at the same time - first goes the standing, breathing and chewing gum and now I can't stand and breathe. So I thought I would wait until someone was here before I have a shower. I think I will have the (care) worker make me dinner for the next couple nights, and then whether she comes or not, you don't have to worry about it. I will be brave then, I think before the weekend - the going out idea wasn't for me anyway, it was for other people: you said I used to do it and people really enjoyed it - I didn't remember that but I look and see the pictures of us in the cemetery and people having fun - I don't know that girl in the cemetery, the one in the wheelchair - is she really smiling or is she just putting on a show, to keep the show going? I just can't keep the show going, but they don't have to know that, do they? They don't have to know that and can go out and celebrate. Don't tell them if I've already gone, just let them celebrate and have fun.

Love from your rose.

Monday, May 10, 2010

My Birthday, so we go outside: Dinner, getting naked, picnic, shooting range

Please continue to remember Cheryl, who can now sing Nina Simone songs no problem. She really is down with it, and any cards or postcards to:

Cheryl (c/o Elizabeth McClung)
P.O. Box 2560
Port Angeles, WA
98362

She’s all by herself over there and the immune system gets boosted from being cheered up (um….sure, I have science articles that say that!), so please send her a card.

Okay, two things: my Birthday is coming up and My collective Challenges.

My parents didn’t believe in keeping birthdays because, in short, we were in a cult. I could however celebrate a death day. I passed. So, my birthdays have kinda sucked. And last few years, I am usually doing something where I almost die on them (if you don’t almost die, you probably aren’t doing the sex right!). Lets just say I was born on a defining day for me: Kent State. Who would I be, I wondered growing up doing those ‘When you were born’ things. The ones saying, “I was just obeying orders” or the ones shot down for the right to speak. Ironic, I was threatened with arrest for assaulting a police officer just Friday! I must be doing something right.

So, my challenge is this: somewhere on May 14-17th, it would be very cool for you to go out. You know, plan to go somewhere new, or if you are ill like me, plan to go out and have dinner, have lunch, have a cup of hot chocolate on your porch (depends on your income). The idea is what I tried to explain before – we ALL go out, me included, then you come back to the blog and tell us how it went. And if you have pictures you can send them to me, or if you want to blog about it, I will make a blog on the 18/19th about all the places people went and what they did, and pictures. Go OUTSIDE!
Now I realize that going outside is somewhat scary for us who are inside a lot, as there are some dangers, particularly for those of us who are slow moving. The other thing is in going out, or going somewhere new, there is a rule of thirds: one third of the time it will be grand, one third of the time it will be ‘okay’ and one third of the time….disaster. Look, we have all had those ‘bad times’ when you go to camp and arrive at ‘weapons’ class with your AK-47, and no, your daddy didn’t give you a scope and you forgot your extra clip.No? Not your experience? Well, I guess if you went to MY summer camps you had those experiences (in all seriousness, it was just handguns, rifles and shotguns: we were like 15 okay!), oh those survivalist cult days! Sorry, back to going out - No risk, no glorious time. The disasters and the fantastic go hand in hand (unless you never plan, don’t put gas in your tank, have a lot of nails on your road, don’t take money or credit cards to a resturant with you and insult large men when you drink) you get one sometimes, the other sometimes.

Now I know that there are the pleasures, almost orgasmic, of staying inside too. But for my birthday I would like us to go OUTSIDE. Sorry, it is a magic word for us 'indoor' bound - and with the heat of summer to keep me indoors soon too, I have a small amount of season where I CAN enjoy the outside.

And THEN on the 21-24 of May, I would like us to do something OUTDOORS. You know, a Picnic. Of course, it doesn’t HAVE to be a picnic. You could commune with nature. Like a hike, or you know, getting NAKED and swimming or getting bitten by bugs. I used to get naked when I ran, well pretty much naked, commando and no top, running at high speed for 10K in the dark around the Rose Bowl. I got MUCH faster times when groups of coyotes would howl, getting closer and closer. Also the time the police car followed me for 2 miles. What? An APB on near naked joggers at 12:-2:00 am?

Have fun. That is the point, to go out and do what you want to do, whether that is water, hills, forests, or just meadow and flowers. Enjoy and have a bite to eat. The outdoors is calling and I hope we all get a lot of great pictures. And I will do another blog on the 25/26th and use your pictures and stories (remember to email me your links please). Just go out and feel the freedom out there, whatever that is for you. If I could, this would be me (I was always fond of capes and flying feeling I got from them).

And, because no plan ever works perfectly, the 28th-31st is our spare ‘let’s try that again’ time for the picnic that got flooded. Or the resturant that was closed, or the trip to the woods that had a cougar infestation, or someone got sick, or the disease said, “not today”, or you ran out of spoons. The point is to have fun, not, as my friend would say in P.E. class during ‘field day’ training, the ‘Bataan Death March’ (where those who fell out were left behind – didn’t help the smog was so thick we couldn’t see the end of the block and it was a full alert warning and hurt to breath – P.E. teacher: “God will protect your lungs, keep running!”). Not the point to do that. That’s why there is an extra day.

Okay, what do I want for my birthday? Um, actually there is something I’ve wanted for a LONG time now, and I suppose the AA-12 is as close as you can get (a recoilless fully auto shotgun at 300 rounds a minute). The one I wanted was the one the Italians created to use against the Mafia, which not only was an automatic shotgun but had a one shot grenade launcher underneath (an urban intense weapon). I am not sure how strong a person would have to be to stand up with it, but the gas recoilless now make it a powerful gun (however in the video demonstrating it, our instructor would have been mortified if we had that kind of poor aim). Yup, just another school day in LA, at the cult compound. No, I’m not a gun geek, or a gun babe, nor do I want to visit that place bachelor parties go to in Las Vegas to shoot different guns, I just figured, being in LA and all, if I WAS going to have a gun, have one that was completely over the top. Then I became a pacifist and found that was FAR more powerful (my entire body and the word "No" became the weapon).

I hope first to be able to go out, to have some fun, maybe Linda will convince me to leave the gas mask at home this time (hey, you never know when a riot may break out). No secret, I like books, that is what is one my wishlist which includes everything from Fire Inspector Nanase, (oh the dreams I have had where I run into fires – and imagine getting PAID to do that) and the award winning book Loups-Garous from the multi-award winning author (about a society where all communication is monitored and only in school is there face to face talking. So when a serial killer of school children can’t be stopped and revolves around three teenage Japanese schoolgirls, there is far more that meets the eye).

There are lots of other series there that I love. New ones, like the Korean ‘Can’t Lose You’ (why is there only one copy left of the six volumes?), to Otomen and the releases still to come. I used to dream about being left alone at night in the library, how it would be fabulous – particuarly the old library of Pasadena with the lions and dark wood. I remember the Twilight Zone episode about the guy who survive the bomb and could read in peace…only to break his glasses. Bit of meanies, those Twilight zone writers!

I dreamed once of what the afterlife was and remember it still: it was a four story library. In there was Borges, Calvino, and all the other writers who had died, and they wrote every day, all the books ever written to inspire them, and each floor I went up, from the floor of symphonies and composers, to the closed fourth floor, it seemed a paradise. Then the bell tolled. And all the writers/artists/composers lined up, their pages in hand, and put them in the barrel, and they were burned. They told me, that was the cost of staying. I guess to me that is my vision of heaven and hell both: endless inspiration, and yet a static life, never to be allowed to create. No wonder women were so desperate wanted that room of their own.

I think birthdays should be celebrated with friends and that is what I want to do: a dinner, a day out somewhere outside! And with my health, separating them a week apart is a prudent thing to do. And I promise that I will wheel about the house naked at least one of those days!