Recovering Straight Girl

It’s Monday and the holiday is over.  We had a lovely dinner and I received lovely gifts from my girls.  We watched a movie together and this morning they all went to school.

I’m still blogged down and overwhelmed with deadlines.  I feel as though the little bit of creativity that I have just left me when I finished a writing piece for one of my classes.  The next bit of creativity will be deciding what to make for dinner.

Here’s what I do have.

Gratitude.

I am grateful for my family.  I am grateful for my beautiful and amazing wife who takes care of me every single day.  She gives me everything, does everything, and IS everything to me.  Every day that I look at her I am amazed and in awe of how lucky that I am to have her in my life–loving me and the girls–always there for us–always cherishing us.

Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of the love that she bestows on me.  Sometimes I forget how lucky I am–I get selfish and crazy.  But I always remember and when I look at her or lie in her arms at night I remember and tell her so.

It’s easy to forget how lucky we are and then awful things happen like cyclones and tornadoes and earthquakes in China and a million people get hurt or killed–a million people just like us living our lives and it causes us to stop for a moment and think about how precious and wonderful our lives are.

Life is funny.  Not funny ha-ha all of the time.  Not even some of the time for some people, but life is what it is.  There isn’t always a lot to feel grateful for but there is always something to feel grateful for.

I hope you all find something today and reflect on those things with love in your heart.

Happy Monday.

I have deadlines. Newspaper job deadlines, school deadlines, laundry deadlines. Today I finished a big project for school. It wouldn’t have been as big as it was except that I am a wee bit of a perfectionist and I have to do it all perfect. Plus, Melissa Lion refused to come over and do my MLA citations for me. My perfectionism is a good thing sometimes–I was notified by my Institute of Higher Learning that I am on the Honor Roll. I would be on the Dean’s List but I didn’t take enough credits last term. Honor Roll is good–I’ve never been on it before!

I’m still ill and tired from my new medicine. HG is about over it I believe but for some reason she sticks around with me. I do cook for her. And put out. Except when I’m nauseated, like now.

The sun is out today, my girls have gone to their dad’s until Sunday. Sunday is Mother’s Day and I will be expected some lavishly made homemade gifts from my girls and a very overpriced dinner out from HG (we couldn’t get brunch reservations.)

I’m blogged down peeps. My brain is empty and my head is light. I guess one would call it Blogger’s Block. So I’ll leave you with this:

Everyone thank their Mom this weekend. Be nice to your mom, or moms as the case may be–including mother’s in-law and out-law. It’s hard to be a mom–sometimes you feel as though all of the energy is being sucked out of your mind, your body, and your soul just for the sake of another person. And your entire life you spend waiting. Waiting for something bad to happen, for some tragedy to occur that may impact your child–you never know what is going to be up ahead and around the corner. You look at your sweet child and wonder how they are going to turn out. You could be raising the next president of the United States or the next serial killer. They come hard-wired and it’s a crap shoot most of the time and the job of mothering never gets any easier. Not ever.

So for one freaking day of the year–be nice to your mom–even if she drives you batty or is a bad cook or hates your significant other or never remembers the details of any conversation that you ever have or hates your hair. Buy her flowers (or an iPod,) and take her out to dinner. And remember, she could have left you in the pumpkin patch for someone else to find!

Happy Weekend!

I once heard that interrogators would use sleep deprivation as a form of torture for prisoners of war. I used to feel as though I was being tortured like this when I had small babies who were up all night wanting my boob or just crying for the heck of it over and over again–every hour–every single night. My babies grew out of all of that (especially the wanting the boob part, thank god,) but I am still reminiscent of those days of being woken up over and over again from time to time.

Like today.

Part of my overhaul has been getting some things looked at medically that I haven’t been able to do for the past few years. The past few years I hadn’t had health insurance and I’ve had to private pay for my doctor’s visit which is prohibitive from having certain things done because of their cost. Now that HG is able to carry me on her insurance–Kaiser is my new best friend and we spend a lot of time together. One of the things in my overhaul has been trying a few different medicines to help with my occasional anxiety and inability to sleep. I’ve already been through one that didn’t work, and I’m on to Plan B. Plan B medicine will be fine I believe when I get used to it–but in the meantime, Plan B medicine makes me completely nauseous and tired. These two things–being tired and nauseous–are two things that are difficult to work into my daily life.

Today, as I nauseatingly drove home from school, I was comforted by the fact that I could lie down in my lounge clothes and take a small nap before the girls came home. Quiet house. I live on a quiet street. It would be great. I snuggled into my bed with my lounge pants and immediately dropped off to napland.

Then the phone rang. Later I found out it was Bill Clinton but I didn’t answer.

I drifted back to sleep and a few minutes later the neighbor walked outside to his car and Abby and Ginger went ballistic barking. I mustered up enough energy to tell them to shut up and went back to sleep.

Then the phone rang again–it was probably Barack Obama this time but he didn’t leave a message.

Then the UPS guy pulled in to the cul-de-sac and Abby and Ginger again went into attack mode.

The girls came home. I quietly explained to them that I didn’t feel well and to do their homework but then . . .

They listened to the phone message and ran upstairs to tell me that Bill Clinton had called and that we should call him back.

A minute later they came in my room again to tell me that DD#3’s fish is dead. I told her I would fish him out of there later–I was too nauseating for a fish funeral.

And then the dog barked again–I think someone checked their mail or something traumatic like that.

And then I gave up and decided to lie here and blog.

I feel like I’ve been in a torture chamber.

And I’m still tired and nauseous.

I don’t know what the military is doing with those prisoners in Abu Ghraib these days but I can tell you what they should do. Give them some pills that make them tired and nauseous and send them to my house for a nap at 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon.

Maybe they can take care of the dead goldfish in my kitchen?

And I go to fancy Galas (pronounced Gay-La,) to which I was invited by some fancy people who do fancy things. LeLo came as my guest and she was beau-ti-ful. She has the photos of us together so you’ll have to visit her to see them when she posts them. The Gala was a fund raiser for Portland Center Stage and a lot of fancy people bid a lot of fancy money on some very fancy things.

LeLo and I watched–which was almost as fun as bidding (but not quite.) Alas, I had forgotten my Amex Black card and could not bid.

There was a lovely cocktail reception and a lovely dinner (Sea Bass) with lovely Oregon wines from Argyle, yum. There was great dinner conversation with smart and interesting people. After the auction and entertainment there was dessert and coffee. And then we were Gala’d out so we left.

Here’s a rundown on the stats of the evening:

Dress: $14.99 from Ross
Shoes: Free. (Borrowed from BFF Neighbor Judy, The Crying Jew)
Hair: $138.00 (including tip)
My Date: The Lovely LeLo (HG would have rather had dental work done than attend this event with me.)
Conversation, Scenery, People and Dress Watching: Priceless

It was a fun time and a great experience and I highly recommend gala-ing anytime you can.

Next Up:  Queer Blogger get together tonight!  Whatever shall I wear??

Today is Thursday which generally is the day where I catch up on things that I got behind on during the week or work on something new or do nothing much at all except clean my house and have lunch with friends. Today is not such a Thursday and every day this week has been a bit on “over-load” and I’m a bit frazzled.

Tuesday I almost made myself crazy with a list a million miles long of all of the things that I needed to accomplished. I was stressed and crazed and beside myself. The day ended with Thai food celebrating my friend Stacy’s birthday and me falling into bed–completely exhausted. Wednesday I had school which included a mid-term followed by a Dairy Queen milkshake, french fries and a coke while driving to North Portland to see my new Gyno. Amazingly when I got to my new Gyno appointment and the nurse made me get on the scale it said that I gained five pounds. Weird. I have no idea how I’ve gained five pounds. It couldn’t have anything to do with my Dairy Queen french fry, milkshake, and coke diet.

My new Gyno is the sister of a good friend of mine. A good friend that I helped have a couple of babies and who taught my Writing class last term (in which I received an A.) Follow all that? It really wasn’t that weird to have the sister of a good friend of mine feel me up because I’m really not all that modest in the least and I don’t care as long as whomever is doing the feeling up does not have cold hands (she did not.) By the end of my appointment we determined that the best course of action would be for me to have one of the new fancy IUD’s inserted that will virtually stop my period all together–a concept that sounds kind of great to me. We won’t worry about the possible side effects (death) because really as long as I don’t have a period–that’s all that matters. And because I’m a big fat baby–I had to schedule to have this little procedure done because I need pain killers prior-during-and after and because my friend’s sister is a responsible doctor and won’t let me drive after taking Vicodin–I have to wait until HG can drive me. Also I need to get tested for Chlamydia and Gonorrhea beforehand–I’m feeling pretty good about passing those tests.

Today I had to attend seventeen Student-Led-Parent/Teacher Conferences (okay, three) and had to register my friend Cory’s kid for kindergarten (at 8 AM) and take DD#2 to the eye doctor (she needs glasses) and take DD#1 to soccer and pick up DD#2’s friend and take them to the mall and to dinner and sometime tonight I may see HG.

Does anyone feel my pain?

But tomorrow is the weekend. And weekends are good. This particular weekend I will be spending the majority of my time with LeLo because we are very fancy and we are going to a very fancy, fancy Portland social event that is Black Tie. I will not be wearing a Black Tie and neither will LeLo–but we will be looking very spiffy I Am Sure. As a matter of fact–I believe that Lelo may be out shopping as we speak. If you see her tell her that black is good. I am getting my hair done on Saturday–I told my hair stylist that I needed her to make me beautiful–I hope she can work a miracle.

There will be photos.

Maybe one in a rattan chair with a fern–if we can find one. My only other confusion about this event is whether I should buy LeLo a wrist or pin-on corsage. I think either would be lovely as long as it’s done with a color-tipped carnations and a matching bow. I’ll see what the florist has that day.

And all of these events would leave me perfectly calm if only the Scary Suburbs put Xanex in our water supply. Think of how nice and relaxed everyone would be–especially me.

SMB tagged me for a Meme.

The rules of the meme:

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

From: The Art of Creative Nonfiction by Lee Gutkind (who is very full of himself if you ask me.

The physicians intimately involved agreed that it sounded right. Bernstein thought that it was right, too, but she could not and would not vouch for the absolute essence of truth.

But if you stand back from the situation and think about it, this makes sense.

This was written in a section called “Who Knows the Whole Truth?” Best to be truthful while writing Creative Nonfiction–otherwise you may lose your advance and be dropped by your publisher.

I’m just sayin’.

I tag my local ladies . . . Melissa Lion, Wendy, Stephanie,

Indy, and Teresa.

The rest of y’all? Have a stress free day, will you?

So Miley Cyrus did a photo shoot with Annie Liebovitz. So what?

I remember in the early 1980’s when the controversial Brooke Shield’s Calvin Klein ad came out. You remember the one? I remember my mother having a complete fit–not for moral reasons–but because she felt that is was exploitive to women. Since then advertisers have pushed the envelope as far as they can and every magazine displays hundreds of photographs of scantily clad young, young, young models in sexually explicit poses to sell their clothes.

Celebrities sell themselves and obviously it pays off for them. Miley Cyrus is worth over a billion dollars. A Billion Dollars. With a B. She’s 15 and has more money than most of us could ever imagine having in a lifetime–all for singing some songs and starring in a Disney tv show. I think less than her doing a photo shoot with Annie Liebovitz–the level of wealth that she has is more of an issue. Consumers are fine with handing their money over to her for their cable subscription, concerts, cd’s, and everything Miley that you can buy including clothing, purses, backpacks, books, magazines, and bandaids. Yes, bandaids. But, God forbid she pose for some photographs with a world renowned photographer that may be a little edgy. Teeny-bop-be-bop is valued. Being paid a billion dollars for it is valued. Art is not. Hypocrites. She’s selling–the American consumer is buying but she’s being criticized for selling. All hypocrites.

With all of that said. I need to admit my own issue.

This photo does not bother me as much-

She looks like she just got out of the shower. I don’t care for the lighting but I’m not Annie Liebovitz so what the hell do I know?

THIS photo–however–bothers me-

If it had been done with a 17 year old boy–it probably wouldn’t have bothered me. A fifteen year old girl with a 17 year old boy in a seductive pose is all over billboards and buses everywhere.  Let’s face it, fifteen year old girls are sexual young women and they are used to sell products every day–no one seems to mind so much because we (we, collectively) continue to shop at the stores that advertise in this way.  The fact that this photo is being done with her FATHER is what is bothersome. It’s provocative, it’s sexually charged and it’s with her father.

Amazingly, the only controversy that I have seen is people having a fit about the first photo and not the second.

Am I the only one who finds this odd? And a bit hypocritical.

In other news, it seems that most of the teenage girls (ages 14-17) taken from that whacko fundamentalist Mormon cult in Texas–are either pregnant–or have already given birth to at least one child.

This is a problem people. Annie Liebovitz taking some pictures of 15 year old Miley Cyrus kind of pales in comparison. But let’s all throw a fit about it, shall we?

Let’s be hypocrites because obviously it is what we in America seem to do best.

Short Update:  I wanted to add to some of the commenters that I was not comparing the Brooke Shields ad to this–I was simply showing how as far as advertisers go–they’ve pushed that medium as far as possible.  This is a type of advertising–it’s advertising Miley Cyrus–and is no different than the ads we thumb through every day.

I would also like to agree that it’s infuriating that Miley and her parents are “outraged” by these photographs.  Hello?  They were there–they were posing for them–I don’t think that Annie Liebovitz doctored them in Photoshop to reveal more skin.

The hypocrisy continues.

I split wood.

HG and I went on an impromptu camping trip to The. Most. Amazing. Campground.

Those of you who do not live in Oregon–I’m sorry about your luck because you probably can’t go. For the rest of you–I’ll tell you about the campground but you must promise not to tell anyone. Ever.

I don’t want the secret to get out.

Fishermen’s Bend.

It was fab.

Go there.

But don’t tell anyone else.

Ginger and Abby loved it. Ginger was so exhausted she could hardly move.

Abby was a bit tired too but not as much.

We had a great time testing out our new fancy, shmancy camper. It has heat and water and hot water and electricity. Fan-cy. We loved it. It’s so nice to not have to haul and heat up water to clean dishes. It was like staying in a hotel.

Only different.

Anyway. That’s where we’ve been all weekend. I’m glad the virus is gone. It’s thanks to Justin who is nice and a genius but don’t tell anyone about that either– he has a rep to protect man.

Tomorrow I am taking my friend Cory to the airport at Four Fucking in the Morning. It’s a good damn thing that I like her. Four in the Morning is not so much fun for anyone.

Here is a really bad picture of me with her baby Benicio (taken with photobooth, so the quality is not up to par. . .)

As much as I love Cory and her boys, I’m glad she’s taking both of them with her when she leaves. Boys Are Loud.

That is all peeps. Ciao.

One of the members of my “team of experts” diligently working on fixing the virus warning on my blog has given me something to try.

I know that everyone is sick of this–but Can You See It Now???

Today I went to lunch with the governor. I wore a new outfit that I purchased in a quick 20 minute shopping spree at TJ Maxx–a store that I heart. A lot.

I looked super cute and I would show you a picture but I don’t have one.

Today at the lunch with the governor I was taking pictures for Basic Rights Oregon and no one took any pictures of me looking so fancy. Too bad because I was wearing a skirt and tights. I haven’t had myself in a pair of tights or pantyhose for as long as I can possibly remember and I don’t anticipate it happening again anytime soon. It’s been so long since I’ve worn pantyhose or tights that I forgot how–but luckily I have friends to help me out. I was advised not to wear any panties with my tights to avoid all of the unfortunate stuff that happens when one wears tights or pantyhose. Stuff that I won’t mention here because . . . boys read this site . . .

Also at the luncheon with the governor were some fancy people like Jeff Merkley, Tina Kotek, and Sam Adams. If you don’t live in the Portland metropolitan area these people mean nothing to you but to us–they are fan-cy.

LeLo was also there and she was W-A-Y fancy in her spring dress and incredibly cute non-lezzie-lezzie shoes. I wonder if any of you know how incredibly talented that LeLo is? She’s amazing. She designed all of the print material for the luncheon today and it was Beautiful. And she did it pro-bono which makes her even more amazing. So I’m happy that LeLo is my friend–she’s beautiful, talented, nice, generous and she wears the greatest shoes.

HG and I went out for sushi tonight which was nice.

And quiet.

We have had house guests for the past week. My friend Cory and her two little boys have been visiting and even though we love her and her boys–little boys are Loud. Like really Loud. And messy. Have I also mentioned that my wife is maybe just a little, teeny, tiny bit OCD? Just a tad. So sushi was good. And quiet.

Yes, I changed my blog template back to see if all of y’all who had been getting a virus message were still getting it. I have a team of experts who have researched the problem and found none–so if this doesn’t work–I don’t know what to do. Just let me know–mmkay?

Two very long days have come to an end with successful results and that’s all I’ve got for now.

But if you were at the luncheon today and happen to take a photo of me–send it will you?

I’m experiencing Technical Difficulties.  All of a sudden I upgraded and enhanced and now things are all askew.

Today I woke up from an e-mail from LeLo stating that I was ignoring her.  I was not!!!  I called her on my way to meet my editor for the paper I write for and explained that I did NOT get her e-mails.  I figured out through our conversation that something was terribly wrong.  I had e-mailed Fleur de Lisa with no response.  It’s not like her to diss me.  Or my friend Sam who I also did not hear from over the weekend.  WTF???  Something must have had happened when I upgraded to Mac Office 2008 on Friday.

So I get to Starbucks to meet my editor at 9:30.  I waited until 10:35.  He didn’t show.  More mystery.  I sat in Starbucks sans computer and watched everyone–looking at every middle aged man who walked in the joint wondering if he was my editor–my late in arriving for coffee editor.  None of them were him and a few of them were probably wondering why I was looking at them so thoughtfully.

I realized a few things while sitting at Starbucks for an hour.

• People spend entirely too much money on coffee and coffee cakes and danish and fancy breakfast sandwiches.  Like that place makes bank.
• Mr. or Ms. Starbucks is a freaking genius.
• I think it’s amazing that Seattle is the home to both Mr. or Ms. Starbucks AND Bill Gates.  I guess all that rain is good for budding entrepreneurs.
• People who talk on their cell phones in Starbucks is one thing–people who talk on their cell phones while on Speaker Phone–is completely unacceptable.
• Waiting for someone for an hour and five minutes while drinking mass amounts of coffee makes one a little edgy.

After Starbucks I went to Trader Joe’s for pasta and wine–the two staples I always purchase there.

My pasta has gone from 69 cents a bag to 99 cents a bag.

My wine has gone up one dollar per bottle.

Milk is 3.99 a gallon.

This is George Bush’s fault and I intend on letting him know how pissed off I am.  Gas is one thing–don’t be fucking with my wine damnit.

So I get home and log on to Verizon to find my e-mail.  What do I see?  Two e-mails from LeLo, two e-mails from Fleur de Lisa, an e-mail from my friend Sam, two e-mails from Melissa Lion and an e-mail from my editor re-scheduling our coffee.

Damn technology.

And I don’t know how to fix it.  I’ve tried everything I know how to do and I’m flabbergasted to no end.

To top this all off . . .

I’m about ready to go to Kaiser to get my boob squished and I need to buy a new outfit because I’m having lunch with the governor of Oregon tomorrow.  Well, I’m going to a luncheon where he is the keynote speaker which is almost like having lunch with him, isn’t it?  And me with nothing to wear.

It’s just all too much today–but at least tonight I can have a glass of wine–inflated wine, but wine nonetheless.  And maybe tomorrow I can con someone to help me with my Entourage settings that are not working.  Anyone who is interested–I’ll be happy to serve you a glass of very expensive  milk or wine.

Any takers?