Tomorrow is my birthday. Tuesday, that is. I know it's technically Monday right now where I'm at, but I've been awake for a few hours after another few hours sleeping, only a short nap, so it still feels like Sunday to me. Ah, who am I kidding? The days don't "feel" like anything to me anymore. I don't have a regular enough sleep/wake cycle for that. It's all one long day, punctuated by naps long or short.

On Tuesday I turn 28. I can't help but take stock, think about the passage of time and how much I may or may not have left. When I was in high school (during one of my several sophomore/junior years) I attended a prayer breakfast where the keynote speaker was the father of Rachel Joy Scott, the first student to die in the Columbine shootings. His story of Rachel's life touched me deeply, and it also lit a fire inside me that I've never really been able to explain. You see, she had this purpose and direction to her life that makes me ache for something similar, and even though she died quite young, she still left an indelible mark on the world around her with her kindness, her inclusiveness, and her determination to make the little universe she inhabited a better place. The best part is that she did. She knew somehow that she was going to die young, that year that she was shot. She wrote in her journal some time previous that "this is my last year on earth, I have learned what I can" or something to that effect. (I'm going off of a ten year old memory, so it's not exact.) And now that I'm facing the accomplishment of year number 28, it astonishes me because I always felt that I was going to die young, too. I never really expected to reach thirty. I suppose it's because I've spent so much of my life focused on immediate survival, which was the only way to make it through the trauma of the first decade and a half, but the dreams of the future always seemed unreal and hazy, not concrete at all.

When I look back, though, I am very happy with what I've accomplished, particularly knowing now that I was fighting against Ehlers-Danlos the whole time, and some of the other stuff like adrenal fatigue and food allergies as I got into my teens. I've had some grand adventures in my time. I feel particularly fond of my Idaho adventures. They were the ones most closely aligned with my most closely held daydreams of adult life. Have I ever mentioned that one of my most passionate wishes as a girl was to grow up and join an Amish community? The rustic, living off of the land "survival" lifestyle holds a deep, deep appeal for me, and living on the premises of Summer Hill Farm away up in the mountains was a dream come true in a lot of ways. I only wish that I could have stayed longer, or gone up there sooner. The timing worked out, though, to be for the best. I could not live up to the rigors of country life in my current state of disability, so it's best that I moved back to a soft city life before it got too bad! ;-)

I do feel a sorrow, though, for the life that I will not get to live. Chronic illness and intractable pain have changed my life irrevocably, and there is a deep sadness that comes with that certainty. Granted, I'm the most comfortable that I've been in years, now that I have the proper balance and dosage of pain medications, but the thought of years and years of this is… daunting. To say the least. I feel like I'm constantly dancing on the edge of a chasm, and if just one little thing goes wrong anywhere in the chain of events, I will topple over the edge and be broken on the jagged rocks below. If something happens to  the manufacturing or delivery of the pain medication, I'm doomed. If the pharmacy has troubles with stocking (like they have the past 6 months), I have nowhere to turn. I tried getting my meds filled at a different pharmacy, but they all turned me away because my needs were too great. If I can't get the hundreds of dollars necessary each month to buy the meds… I'm toast. So it's not just the thought of the huge drifts of pain that will accumulate through the years, but the stress of not knowing, each and every month, until I'm rolling out the pharmacy door with meds in hand, that seems the most unbearable. It's a really doomy, gloomy thought, so I try to not think about it much. Sorrow? Check. Stress? Double check. Moving on.

I read a really interesting sci-fi book a few days ago called "Factoring Humanity" by Robert J. Sawyer. I don't wanna give away spoilers, but one of the premises of the book is that humanity isn't a bunch of individuals on a spinning rock, totally unconnected from each other, neither is the information gathered over a lifetime lost when an individual dies. Rather, humanity is all connected to one another through what the book terms the "over mind", a collection of the consciousness and information of every human mind that has ever existed. The information isn't lost at death, but rather "uploaded" and saved, like backing up your computer data, and the book goes over the story of how the over mind is realized and explored by a few humans at first, using the information sent to Earth by intelligent life on Alpha Centauri over a period of ten years via radio signals. I know it's just a fictional book, but it really does give me a framework for understanding the world around me that really appeals to me and just makes a lot of sense in some ways. It's given me much to think about, in any event.

That brings me back to the idea of "making a mark" on the world around me, though. Discount the idea of the over mind and just focus in on the thought that when a person dies a shadow of them lives on in a way through the memories of the people they interacted with. I would really like to be able to say that my interactions with the people around me left them happy and better able to cope with the harsh realities of life, you know? Because life is hard. Really hard. Anyone who says differently is selling something. Hehehehe. (Princess Bride reference, in case you didn't catch that.) We all know at least one person who is definitely not a delight to be around, and who seems to just make everything a bit harder to bear; someone who sucks the energy and life from those around them and either doesn't know or doesn't care. I don't want to be that person. Even if I have excuses that seem valid, I do NOT want to be that person. My young life was ruled by a tyrant of that sort, and I know how miserable it can be under their thumb. I absolutely refuse to do that to anyone else if I can help it. I think I've done a pretty decent job of avoiding that pitfall, even with my new neediness that came with the nosedive of my health. Perhaps my "mark" is simply that I made some people happy some of the time, made their lives a bit easier, even? I mean, in a first world world, what else is there?

So I'm turning 28. My husband will be 30 next month. I remember the days when 30 seemed so old! My girlfriend is even older than my husband, if you can believe that. Age never really mattered much to me as much as personal maturity, although I do tend to have a thing for older men. Daddy issues, most likely. I'll own that. lol. So I guess that's it. Just some musings on my life and what I hope I'm doing with it. At this point I don't feel like there's much I can achieve anymore beyond interpersonal goals. I'm just too damn tired. Somehow, I have to make peace with my multitude of dreams and my achy, sleepy reality. I have been doing "better" the past couple months, though. I'm starting to feel like myself again, really and truly. An altered version, no doubt, but no one stays a static version of themselves forever anyway. I'd be altered no matter what.

I've started going for walks again, though, and I get out of the house twice a week regularly, once for grocery run with Corey and once for coffee date with Saka. I've even stopped throwing up all the time, thanks to a lovely med they give chemo patients! I have to take it consistently, though, or else the nausea sneaks up on me really fast and I find myself on the couch clutching my vomit bowl within a span of ten minutes from feeling fine. Gotta keep it in my system. I can't help but laugh sometimes at how different my every day life is from what I'd ever imagined it being!
No artsy cafes or guitar in the park, no challenging classes out at the college with a yoga session afterwards.
No five mile walks in the muggy warmth of a summer's night.
No swell of a pregnant belly.
No certificates of continuing education, no job, no paycheck.
No numbers in my savings account.
No trip to Europe, touring art and culture and food.

There are losses, to be sure. I gotta quit that or I'll start crying. But hey, everyone has losses, and everyone has gains, too. I know I'm better off than I was a year ago, and for that I'm very thankful. Here's to another year of, um… tea and Netflix! Yeah! And a circle of good people who love me very much. That's always a good one.

(image found at http://xkcd.com/137/)

There's been some stuff that I've been wanting to write about lately, but I've held myself back because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of rejection, afraid of judgment, afraid that I might offend those readers whom I call friends so deeply that they will turn away and never come back. I've been toying with the idea of writing it anyway, because really, this is my space to be free and be myself without judgment, and the moment I censor myself because of some imagined consequences at the hands of probable judges, well… I might as well just stop writing altogether.

I do know that some of the things I have to write will be unsavory for certain members of the conservative Christian crowd that I used to run with, and that's fine. Different strokes for different folks, you know? But it's the thought of those conservatives that fills me with such dread, as I know that such a community can be rather… unforgiving in nature, and I don't want to bring that kind of wrath down upon myself. I also don't want to make myself the target of some kind of evangelistic campaign designed to "win me back to the truth" or "bring me to the light" somehow. The choices that I've made have been very deliberate and thoughtful, not hasty compromises made in the throes of passion or despair. 

I don't feel like I'm being true to myself, editing out important bits of my life and personality this way. With this in mind, I have decided to write. Stumbling upon this cartoon earlier this evening just underscored my conviction and reinforced my thoughts. I still wish to take the convictions and repugnances of others into consideration, however, such as the toning down of the language that I often use, substituting swear words and epithets for other phrases. My plan is to speak in broad strokes about what I wish, and if I feel the need to go into detail I'll save it for a separate post, so readers can decide if they want to read that particular entry or not.

Why all this hesitation, all this caution, you ask? To put it simply, I'm an active member of the BDSM culture and community where I live, and I apply the kinks and fetishes I am interested in to my lifestyle on a regular basis. No, Corey and I aren't having sex on a very regular basis anymore, simply due to illness constraints and stress problems, but I can say in all honesty that kink isn't just about sex. That is, it doesn't have to be. It can be, or it can be completely removed from lust and intercourse. You really have to be involved to understand. But yes-- I like leather and lashes and corsets and ropes. All of that good old taboo stuff. There is a huge wide world of kink and fetishes within BDSM, of course. There's no way one could possibly be interested in or involved in everything. What I appreciate most about the culture is its emphasis on Safe, Sane, and Consensual, or alternately phrased, Risk Aware Consensual Kink.

What I would ask is that anyone who is finding themselves repulsed or immediately huffy and judgmental, do some research. There are a million and one websites that explain the basics and the theory without being pornographic, and who knows but that the information may prove of use in the future? Just because a person looks "vanilla" (not involved with kink) doesn't mean they are. Most of us keep up a very good front, afraid to come out of the closet for fear of losing jobs, friends, family relationships… There is a lot of stigma, and a lot of misinformation. That's part of the reason why I want to be open and honest about this; to dislodge and refute stereotypes and negative associations.

The reason I bring this up at all is because it's how I celebrated my birthday. The group in Yuma that I'm a part of has monthly "munches", which are vanilla gatherings where we get together and eat, hang out, and just generally have a fun time together. We also have monthly play parties where we get together and do just what the name implies-- we play, as groups, couples, or individuals. I've attended several parties but I've never had the opportunity to engage in any play before, as one of the rules imposed on me is that I'm not allowed to play unless Drogo is in attendance and gives me permission. His days off were changed to include the day the play party was held, and he came with and gave me permission to engage in some play. He said, "It's your birthday; go have some fun," all indulgent-like. It was cute. I was ecstatic. But I will write a separate post about the party and how it went, what I did, etc. for anyone who wishes to read it. Most of the time, at that party and at all the others, my time is spent hanging out with a plate of food and chatting with my friends. Just like any other party. We really are like any other people, except that our mutual hobbies are considered alternative, or even "bad". (Hence the secrecy.)

Another thing I've been wanting to write about but holding back on is my spiritual journey. If you've read some stuff from the early days of my blog, you may know that I was struggling along in a particularly conservative branch of Protestantism known as Seventh Day Adventist. I have absolutely nothing against the Adventist church, as I was essentially born and raised SDA and have a great number of fond memories throughout my life associated with it. A large amount of the people I hold near and dear to my heart are active SDA members, and I spent 3 or 4 years working as a missionary for the church here in the States. That being said, some of the attitudes and actions of members and leaders in the church really damaged me in profound ways, and some of the beliefs held by the church and by the members crippled me in ways that have been difficult to undo.

After moving back to the Southwest from the Northwest, where I lived for several years, I engaged in about a year and a half of study as to whether the basic tenets of Christianity and the authenticity of the Bible were real concepts that I could trust and build my belief system upon. I didn't find it to be so. When I stopped trying to make Christianity my worldview, life started making more sense. I began recovering from the depression that gripped me with suicidal force and pulled me into a blackness so thick that I could feel nothing else, nothing but crushing despair and agony. I laugh a little bitterly to myself when I think that I have a "reverse testimony"; that is, I'm the opposite of the people that stand up and tell how they were tormented and miserable and did all kinds of things and couldn't find happiness or true satisfaction in life until they "found Jesus", and once they became Christians and got saved then they had happiness and peace and life made sense for the first time. For me, I was tormented and miserable and couldn't find happiness or true satisfaction until I walked away from Christianity. Finally, finally, for what seemed the first time in my life, I had peace. I was happy. And I felt guilty, because from infancy up I had been taught that the SDA church had "the Truth", and if I walked away from that I would be lost forever. I worried that maybe it actually was true, and I was going to be lost for walking away… but I couldn't bring myself to go back, to resign myself to a life of such deep unhappiness and emptiness. Not now that I'd finally started liking who I was, seeing worth in myself and seeing beauty in the life around me and before me.

I've come to the place over these past 2 years where I will now call myself an agnostic atheist. My belief is that deities are the creations of mankind, a projection, a metaphor, something we need to survive mentally and emotionally as beings of higher intelligence. Don't quiz me on facts and details-- I'm still figuring all this out, and I was never a good apologeticist, no matter what side of things I stood on. I've always had leanings toward paganism, though-- Wicca or NeoPaganism and all that, or maybe some of the New Age beliefs. As I've been doing research lately, though, I have found that even Wicca is too "religious" for me. Again, I don't believe in actual, literal deities, and Wicca calls upon the God and the Goddess as literal beings. No, I'm more interested in earth based religions that acknowledge the energy and the life forces in the world around us, in the universe we reside in, and that seeks to reach out and redirect those forces with my own will. I think that the rituals have some kind of scientific effect that we don't understand yet, and so the results are attributed to "magick". A great deal of what is done now, without a second thought, could and likely would have been labeled magick a few centuries ago, much less thousands of years ago. If you went back to 12 A.D. and had a Bic lighter in your hand, do you think the people around you would recognize the interaction of friction and heat and fuel? Nope. You'd be a wizard, a sorcerer, a speaker for the gods.

Anyway, that's where I'm at now. I feel a large sense of relief to have written all that, but I also feel a nervous quivering throughout me as I contemplate pressing the "Publish" button. What if I lose my friends? What if my bestie doesn't wanna be my bestie anymore? *sigh* But then I guess… this part of me is still there, whether I speak about it or not. If I lose friends or family or whatever over this, well… them only accepting part of me isn't enough. That's not real acceptance, nor is it real love. It's just a test I must brave, I suppose.

That in mind… there's no way I'd ever reveal any of this to my grandparents, though. My grampa and I recently got into a very heated disagreement regarding Adventists who keep the Old Testament feasts. I know several people who do, and did myself at one point in time. My point was that they are living up to what they believe is what God wants them to do. Grampa got angry because they're WRONG, doesn't matter if they believe they're right or not, and they need to give up their sin and come back to the truth of God, yadda yadda yadda. He came to me and apologized afterward, admitting that he was being very closed-minded and cruel and it wasn't okay. I appreciated that very much. But if I were ever to tell him that I'm a pagan atheist BDSMer who is heteroflexible? Yeah. He'd probably never speak to me again. I've noticed that as people age they tend to become very inflexible, closed, and narrow minded. Their way or the high way, you know? Maybe it's just older Christians, or older Adventists in particular. I mean, they've spent so long having the idea pounded into them that only SDA's have the Truth, everyone else is wrong, and that a good SDA will tell them they're wrong so that they're not eternally lost. Otherwise it's on your head if they're "lost" and you didn't tell 'em, you know? Just another reason I left. I was sick of the gut sickening feeling I'd get when I walked into a grocery store or a gas station and felt like had to pass out tracts and witness or else I wasn't living up to my commitment as a Christian, and that maybe I'd let an opportunity pass that was the person's last. You know, like they'd die in a car accident right afterward on their way home or something. I hated that pressure. I still exult in my freedom as I walk into the grocery store and know that I don't have to interact with a single damn person if I don't want to, and usually I don't.

As my friend and I were discussing earlier, things change and people change right along with them. I am a very different person than I was just a year ago, or even a few months for that matter! I feel like springtime, like a bud poised on the edge of blooming at any second, like I'm finally growing after a season of being stumped and stunted and I'm coming into my potential at last. It's a great feeling. I'm learning and expanding in so many ways, and I just want to keep going. Everything inside me feels clean and happy, despite being sick, despite my life having taken such a drastic left turn. No, things aren't perfect, and there's still stress on me and in our household due to various things (bills, illness, general relationship stuff that happens to everyone), but I know that I'm already a richly developed woman and that the trend will continue. Honestly? I feel like I'm my own friend for the first time, and I'm actually glad to know me. I'm proud of myself. Isn't that the craziest thing?

I got my hands on an off-brand of Nutella that I can actually eat (can we please stop with the gratuitous soy usage, corporate America?), and I understand everything now. I mean everything. The meaning of life, the universe and everything. Turns out it isn't forty two, it's chocolate and hazelnuts. In spreadable form. The gods have descended and Eden is here. It's like the Ferrero Rocher chocolate candies that I've loved so much for so long but can't have anymore (thanks again to the soy problem) have exploded all over this whole grain toasted pita…slice? (what do you call a single piece of pita bread in all its pockety glory?). Of course, the whole wheat makes it healthy. Right? Right. Also, as a completely pointless side note, I must say that not indulging in the Oxford comma for the phrase, "life, the universe and everything" is killing me, but I am pretty sure that's how it's written and I want to be faithful to the original text. Douglas Adams deserves it. (For those completely lost, I'm referencing "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" series by Douglas Adams. It's a series of books that is completely silly, mind bending, and entirely sensible if you read them all through.)

Chewing this deluxe chocolatey treat is killer, though, thanks to the good ol' oral surgery recovery. The gaping sockets where my 3 wisdom teeth used to be are pretty much alright, in that there's no easily discernible spikes of pain above what I normally experience, but the bottom left jaw pain has got to be the incarnation of everything evil in the world. Due to the positioning of that tooth, the extraction involved cutting open the gum and sewing it shut again afterward, and this stitched area is causing me debilitating pain. Yes, even with the copious amounts of strong pain killers that I am taking, and yes, even with all of the little countermeasures you can take against pain in addition to the pain meds, it's keeping me from sleeping at night, keeping me from eating solid food, giving me migraines, making the hours pass soooo slooooooowlyyyyy, and making my supply of pain killers look suspiciously puny. Once or twice a day I give in and eat something that requires chewing, but ouch.

I finally caved yesterday and started applying ice directly to my jaw, and that was an amazing breakthrough... at first… for a bit. Now it doesn't seem to matter. Sorbet has been a helpful friend as well, kind of numbing things out with cold from the inside, plus it's super delicious! The weather, though, has been affecting the pain levels. Clouds have been coming and going and bringing rain, so on the days that the weather is changing my pain is skyrocketing. On the calm days with no clouds and no changing, I was able to get it mostly under control. Since I cannot control the weather, I will simply do what I can to get this healing up as fast as possible. It's nice to know that this intense pain will end at some point. I'm not used to thinking that way anymore.

So. Birthday coming up in a week, give or take a day. I'm going to be the ripe old age of 27. I think it's fair to say that I'm definitely not where I thought I'd be in life at the moment, and things are going to be different than I had planned, but I think I'm coming to grips with that. I feel like I'm coming to after some time in a thick, numbing sleep, coming back to myself and gulping a huge lungful of air. I've had several "off" months and lots, lots, lots of heavy blows in a row. That's had me staggering, trying to come to terms with reality; adapt, adjust, and survive. I have not lost myself, though, and I feel that irrepressible sense of self rising yet again, despite the surroundings and trappings that modify the expression.

While I was on a walk the other day I caught sight of the desert mountains in the distance, and the dark-light pattern of the clouds and sunlight passing over them in turns gripped my heart as it always does. I felt the familiar yearning for a good, solid hike, followed by a mournful thought that hiking is out of the question when I'm scraping along the road with my walker. The second thought I had was, "Fuck that noise!" I refuse to let myself be bleached barren and bled dry by my disease(s). When I go hiking or backpacking I definitely won't be able to travel as far or as fast, but that doesn't mean that I have to give it up entirely. Yes, there's something to be said for working within the parameters of reality, but there's something more to be said for not giving up on yourself and refusing to become a bland mush of a person when faced with limiting circumstances. So no, I won't be a massage therapist like I had dreamed and planned, because that's just not realistic when you consider my connective tissue disease and my fatigue and pain levels. It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of not physically capable, no matter how hard I push myself and aim for the dramatically inspiring documentary story of a life.

But I still massage my husband, my friends, when I can. When I can. I've adapted. I've altered. But I'm not giving up, not unless I want to, and for my own reasons. Because while I refuse to be conquered and give up on my hobbies and my interests because of circumstances imposed on me against my will, I also refuse to be stuck doing stuff that I no longer really want to do or that I didn't want in the first place, simply to prove that my illness "doesn't define me" or whatever. If I were doing stuff just to prove that my diseases don't have me by the balls, in that moment I'd be proving myself wrong. It's a tricky thought, and a tricky balance, and it's taken me some time to get to this place. At first I needed to simply withdraw and lick the wounds inflicted upon diagnosis, to simply ride the tide of one appointment after another, and I'm okay with that. There will be times when I do so again, and that's fine. So long as the reasons are mine, and I'm doing it for me (and not because I've been bullied into it by people or my diseases), I can do whatever I need to do to get by. For me, for now, it means letting myself emerge once more, a slightly different incarnation with all the spunk and sass of my former self combined with a new balance and perspective tempered by pain and trials.

Hey, did I mention that I got glasses? Yep, I sure did, and they make me look hot. I'll get a picture in here sometime when I can, but for now just take my word for it. Here's how great they are: I actually feel more attractive with them on than without! Yeah, I know. That's never been a thing for me before. In fact, I feel very good about my appearance in general lately. Sure, I'm still overweight and trying to slim down, but my hair has been growing out and is now a chin-length bob in my natural color, my skin is clear, I've got really cute glasses, I finally found a type of bra I can wear comfortably, thus my breasts and cleavage look fantastic (even if they *are* sports bras), and I've got some really cute earrings. I want to get more holes in my ears and I've been playing with the idea of a nose ring, a very thin and delicate hoop (see below), but I just don't think it would look that great.

I've always wanted an eyebrow piercing, however, so maybe I'll go for one of those...

I definitely want what the ponytail lady (that's Fergie, right?) has in the way of earrings-- a whole ear-full, all the way down. (I just hope my babies don't decide to reach for the shiny things, you know? Yikes!)

Of course, I want a tattoo in the worst way but since I struggle with hyperalgesia and always will, I figure that it's probably out of the question. Unless I were to use medical grade anesthesia or something for the procedure. Hmm… (Kidding.) My first tattoo, though, would be this:

To wrap things up, and on a completely unrelated side note, I love my kitties. We took Fancy, the new cat, to the vet today to check out her ears--either mites or an infection, either way real bad when we got her but improving while with us--and she behaved so well both on the car ride and during the appointment itself, even while they made use of the rectal thermometer. I know that I wouldn't be as quiet and docile as she was if a rectal thermometer was involved in my exam! Turns out that there are no mites, at least not right now. It could have started out as mites and then progressed as they left their waste behind, but she has a fungal infection that a course of ear drop medication should clear right up, and I expect that we'll see a bit of a change in her disposition once that's better. She's already sweet now, but there's a difference between being nice and sweet while you're in discomfort or pain and being sweet and nice because you're no longer in discomfort or pain. You know what I mean? Well, right now she's kind of a bitch to Bob and Juneaux (pronounced "juno", by the way), hissing and swiping when they come near or if they (try to) pass by, growling at them if she so much as sees them, but it's just driven Bob and Juneaux closer which is what I was hoping for. They're becoming bros, which didn't happen before because Bob actually had his bro, Cortes! So we'll see what happens as the kitty soap opera continues. Tune in next time for more drama on As the World Tunas/General Pawspital/All My Kitties/As the Fur/Litterbox Turns.

By the by… Which is your favorite kitty soap opera name? Got an original one? Let me know in the comments!

Well, it's all been a nonstop fit of giggles over here, I can tell you that.

Oh, wait, what's that? Sarcasm? Yep. You caught me.

Not much happening in my life. I guess that's what happens when you're disabled… it just gets kinda boring after a while.

Oh, wait! There is one thing. I don't know if I mentioned it, but I made the decision to become re-involved with The Healing Journey now that I know it's "just fibro" and not going away and probably not getting better anytime soon. (That reminds me-- I need to recap about the profitable pain doc appointment that I'm actually happy about. I know, shocker right? A doctor's appointment that went well? I'm at a loss for words too.) I told Star that if she can give me a ride on Wednesdays I want to attend the teen girls' peer support group. I did warn her that I am not reliable or dependable by any stretch of the imagination, so don't count on me, but I want to go even if I feel terrible which I likely will. I'll just feel terrible there instead of at home. I miss being involved in something altruistic, something outside of myself. I miss giving back, giving of myself… I miss being useful.

On that note, I put my talents to good use and whipped up a flyer for the Child Abuse Prevention Fair that's coming up. Someone else had put together a flyer before I got my hands on the info, and I'll show you that one too just so you can see how the HJ is faring without my particular skill set…

A distinct difference, I should say. I'm proud, and rightfully so. Nothing wrong with being proud of a job well done.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I'm going to try to drift off to sleep again. I managed an hour's worth of sleep earlier before I woke myself crying out from pain, but I got many hours of sleep throughout the previous day so it's not so bad. It was "one of those days", a particularly rough one for symptoms and pain, but I was fortunate enough to be able to sleep through much of it. Besides, it's not like I have anything pressing going on later anyway.

Oh, I almost forgot-- it's Drogo's birthday! He's 28 now, practically ancient. It is strange to think that, by all rights, we are both still so young and yet… this is the oldest either of us have ever been. Hmm.

So. Birthday party! It was, naturally, not as bright and sparkly as I would have so desired, but it sufficed. As with all things of life there were pros and cons, disappointments and happy surprises.

I was running pretty low on energy the day before and the day of my birthday, but with Drogo's help I accomplished everything that was of the utmost importance (including checking on the status of my insurance now that I'm magically 26!), and it was a fun night.

I was upset, looking back on the pictures, at just how, um, rotund I have become. It really, really bothered me because I had been okay and accepting of it before-ish, but seeing it all in your face like that? Kind of a shock. Anyway, we're working on my rogue thyroid and trying to get me all stable, but that's not what this is about right now. All muffin-tops aside, we had cake and spontaneous pizza and soda and just a grand old time. Unexpectedly, I got a few presents which was awesome. I also got a few donations toward the Celebirthsary, which is rad.

Here's a few pics from the night.

There is so much more to do than what my energy or pain levels allow for. Here it is, 2 am, and the house is still not tidied and we have not bought groceries for the week. Blaaaaaaah. I also have not dyed my hair back to red yet. I'm thinking that's not going to happen before my party, as I desired. Neither have I redone my toenails or pummiced my heels like I wanted. I just need a pedicure, someone else to do it for me! Hehe.

I splurged yesterday and bought some clothing more applicable to my size at Goodwill. Got a discount from the cashier because I asked for it after she found out it was my birthday soon. It was her birthday that day, as a matter of fact!

We got the ingredients for my friend the Mermaid to make the cakes for my party tomorrow night, and we're both almost a little too happy about it ^_^ She loves to bake, I love to eat. A match made in culinary heaven.

Pain's been bad. I think it's the weather. I am so determined not to let it ruin my fun, though, if only for these few days. I know and am sure I'll pay for it, but… I can't let this illness, whatever it is, completely dictate my life. Not every day. Not all the time. I refuse to let it completely ruin my life. So, party it is. And then a trip to the big city. Oh my god, am I gonna be destroyed… and it pisses me off that I know this in advance and know that my misery will increase. Beh.

Anyway… birthday! Party! Woohoo!

'Sup? I'm alive. Still. That's good news, right?

Still recovering physically from the trip and the unbelievable emotional low it brought… I will get the courage to blog about it soon, I'm sure. Maybe next week when I'm in the big city again for rheumatologist appointment (squee! I got in early!) and am hanging in the hotel with nothing to do besides internets. (I'll be going up with my grandparents who, conveniently, already had plans to be up there Tues-Weds for meetings my gramma has. So I'll just go up with them and spend the night and enjoy a little vacation ^_^) I'm sure it would be more entertaining and less energy consuming to just Pinterest, though, so that may happen. Heh.

I can't believe time has flown so fast and it's only 2 days until my birthday! I'm looking forward to my party with more than the normal fervor, simply because this week has been filled with so much apathy and despair. On a positive note, that night of drinking with my friend went well. I didn't get all drunk like the last time I drank, and I wasn't by myself so it was way more fun, but they did and we both were all flirty and affectionate and it was nice. We have both sibling-zoned each other so hard it's not even funny, but we're also both comfortable enough with our current relationships and each other to crack jokes at each other on a regular basis. Not physical flirting, mind you! No, my lovin' is reserved solely for my husband, but I am becoming more of a cuddly person with those I consider my very close friends, of which this person is one. My flirting isn't gender-exclusive, either. I flirt with my close friends of any gender and sexual orientation, so long as they're comfortable with that. I would never flirt with Rose, for example, because that would just be awkward. She's not that kinda gal, and I respect that. Also, I'm sure I'd never flirt with the Musician, because she is my sister and not just a close friend that I consider to be sister-like. That, too, would be awkward.

Anyway, just a quick update, I suppose. Let y'all know that I'm still here, still alive, and just working my way closer and closer to my birthday with a growing measure of excitement. Kahl Drogo doesn't read this, so I can say it here… I plan to go out and get him a brightly colored t-shirt for the party hehehe. And maybe something sparkly, if I can convince him to wear it. In any event, something bright, because he owns nothing bright. I wish I were exaggerating. He's also not bought new t-shirts in the entire time I've known him, except for work undershirts. That means 10 years of the same shirts… which is fine, because he takes good care of them and they're hardly wearing out at all. But… I think it's time for at least one new one. Especially if it's bright and happy :D

Note: Remember, if you need nicknames and who is who, check out the post Appellations.

I finished my invitation today and sent it out (electronically) to everyone I want to come. A few people already informed me that they won't be there, and their presence will be sorely missed, but I think it's going to be a grand, fun time. Hope we have enough dessert for everyone! Better to have too much than not enough… and whatever's left over we can freeze and I can nom on for ages to come :D Now… to figure out a prize for the colorfully sparkly winner… (And I sincerely hope that I'm feeling somewhat decent that day and not like totally laid up in bed or something!!)

My birthday is coming up. In my household growing up, birthdays are a big. deal. I mean, we're talking cake and a themed birthday party, even if it's just family. (It usually was, with a  few friends from around whatever apartment complex we lived in at the time.) With the S's, birthdays were an even bigger deal, with the newly-aged person dictating the events and menu of the entire day. When you came out to breakfast in the morning, the table was set with a lace tablecloth and the fancy dishes, and there was confetti scattered on the table and likely a ribbon or bow decorating your chair. I mean, we're talking a big deal.

Fast forward to my moving down south. The first birthday was with my grandparents and some of my friends from the local church came over, but nobody that I was really close with. I made my own (amazing) german chocolate cake, but everyone else had "normal" sheet cake. The next year (last year), I was living with C already. B and J took us out to lunch and had special plans for me. They got the sushi place to put a purple orchid on my plate and they brought out surprise mochi and green tea ice cream at the end of the meal. Also, J and I went shopping at Goodwill after lunch. That was my birthday. Very plain. Nice, but plain.

See, C was not raised celebrating holidays or, as I understand it, birthdays really. He's not the "celebratey" type, which is a shame because I'm the opposite. I'd throw a party for everything if I could! Don't have the money or the energy for that, though, sadly. But since he's not the type to celebrate, I know that if I want a good birthday I have to plan it myself. That's pretty lame, in my book, but it is what it is. I don't have the S's or H to put together a party for me, and besides, I don't think they could top my 23rd birthday party anyway. They surprised me by flying my mom out for an entire week (and J was already up there with me for her spring break!), and then they threw me a big hippie birthday party my birthday night. Oh, and I can't forget the mariachi/country song that David wrote and they woke me up with on the morning of my birthday. Have I mentioned how much I miss the S's, and H, and my life up there? Mostly I miss the people, and the opportunities for awesome and unique experiences. I had so many great life experiences that I treasure the memories of.

Anywayyyy… my birthday falls on a Saturday this year, which means that C has the day off, and I'm so happy about that! My plans and my wishes are a bit different, but my actual plans for the day are such: spend an hour or two at the antique car show going on that weekend (it's a birthday tradition for me), eat lunch and rest for a few hours, have the people that I love and care for most all over for cake, pie, and juice. That means my grandparents and great aunt (if she'll leave the house), the D's, D and J if they can make it (the snake folks), both M's, A (who graciously agreed to make my cake!!), my brother in law and his lady E, C's dad and his gf (if she's deigning to speak to me again, that is LOL), I'll see if K wants to come, and S because he's in town!! Oh, and I can't forget E and M, and I'll see if the girls from group can and want to come as well. It's been TOO LONG since I've seen them. Oh, and C. Can't forget her. (By the way, I'm going to be making the switch to code names here soon… it will be so much easier for reading purposes, I think, than initials. Less confusion. I know a lot of J's.) I might be forgetting a few people right now, but I'll be making a list (and checking it twice, hah!) and running it past C to make sure I don't forget anything.

So that's the plan. What I'd like to do is slightly different… well, not different, because I really want to do the above. (Maybe I'll do something silly like make it a sparkle party and ask everyone who comes to wear something sparkly or brightly colored? Best dressed gets a prize! Oh my goodness, yes… I think that has to happen, despite C's inevitable protests. I need to have some fun in my dreary existence!) What I'd like for my birthday (though it wouldn't all fit in one day, or even be feasible necessarily):
-Get a massage from Brenda/Belinda (can't remember her name) at the massage clinic.
-Go Goodwill shopping and get some adorable "big girl" clothes: a cute shirt, a couple pairs of comfy pants, a pair of gym shorts, a dress that doesn't require a bra that I can throw on when I leave the house.
-Get gussied up and go out to eat.
-Bookstore browsing and buy a book.
-Get new lingerie and have hot sex with my husband.
-Forget the lingerie-- have hot sex with my husband!
-A task force to swoop in and set up my craft room for me so it's useable.
-Try out that Juiced place.
-Eat a turkey sandwich- lettuce (no mayo, alas, but I think my salad dressing will do!), tomato, turkey, maybe some cucumber… all on toasted bread. (Bread! Sweet, nutty, deliciously chewy bread! *sigh* I'm in lust with bread.)
-Get a pedicure.
-Have a cleaning service come and thoroughly deep clean my house.
-Get a cute new haircut and re-dye it red.
-Get another set of ear piercings.

Simple wishes, I suppose. I won't get most or any of them, simply because of financial constraints, but it's nice to dream, eh? I won't be decorating the house at all, probably, for the cake and pie fest, but I am going to have C help me clean it the day before so it's at least decent. Maybe I can wrangle some other folks into helping us, too… guilt trip them about it being my birthday weekend so they can deny me nothing ;)

So a Lite Brite Sparkle Party with cake and pie and yes I'm going to eat REAL cake this year you guys! I'm SO excited. So, so, so excited. I haven't had real cake since… since… um… Well, that german chocolate cake I made for myself a few years back was bomb, and you couldn't even tell it wasn't "real", so I'm just going to count that as the last time I had a good piece of cake. Even M, who is a chef, couldn't tell that it was super allergy friendly! Anyway, I'm excited about celebrating my birthday with those I know and love. I don't expect presents at all, I just want to eat cake with them and hang out. Maybe I'll say, "in lieu of presents, please donate to the Celebirthsary fund so that the couple can enjoy their first anniversary in style!". That would be a good present; a fun Celebirthsary weekend. I know it would really cheer C up if we were able to buy something while there. He's bummed because we're only going to be able to sightsee this trip, with maybe a small souvenir here or there, but nothing substantial… like a weapon. He likes buying weapons at the Faire, and who could blame him? They are well made and fairly priced. You can't find that kind of thing around our town.

(I just told C about the Lite Brite Sparkle party. He seemed dubious. He said he was going to wear his blue shirt, and I said that it wasn't even bright or sparkly at all. He laughed and said he was going to come in last! Funny guy.)

So. Birthday. (I figure that, since I can't sleep due to pain, now is as good a time as any to blog, yes?)

The night before my birthday was, well... not the greatest. I mean, parts of it were, and parts of it weren't, so as a whole, I (being human) tend to let the negative parts influence the positive parts.

C got home from work and realized that he needed to do laundry, and I wasn't doing anything, so we packed on over to his dad's house to throw a load in. We were already going to watch a movie while we waited, but D suggested that we watch Inception, which I had yet to see. We did, and it was a great movie-- very engaging-- but I grew tired about halfway through and could have easily gone to bed. I forced myself to stay awake, however, until the movie was over. By the time we got home, I was already cranky from being tired and hungry, and then C decided that, in order to reset his internal clock, he was going to stay up all night.

That's not a problem, in and of itself, although I do miss his presence in the bed next to me. The problem is that when he decides to stay up, that means that he's going to be playing on the computer. Again, not a problem... except that the computer is on the desk, right next to the bed. There's no where else to put it in this dinky little apartment. It didn't used to be a problem, but as the fibromyalgia and consequent sleep disturbances get worse, the sound of him playing on the computer and the ambient light from his two monitors and his oversized tower keep me awake or wake me up after I've already fallen asleep. He's already stopped playing certain games after I go to bed, because the rapid and constant "clickety clack" of the keys really messes with me. I have an eye mask that I wear to help make it dark enough for me to sleep, but I hate wearing the thing, and it doesn't block out all of the light, so... I've been growing increasingly frustrated.

The night before my birthday, I was grumpy and impatient, and knowing that I'd have to put up with that ambient light all night did not make me very happy. However, I realized that it wasn't fair of me to tell him to turn off his computer, because what else was he going to do the whole night? Instead, I packed up a blanket and a couple of pillows and slept on the couch. Before you go and applaud my humility in seeking a compromise, I should admit that I was not happy about it. I was pretty pissed, to be honest. However, I thought through my anger, accepted it, and let it go. It really wasn't anything worth being angry about, and it was definitely exacerbated by my crankiness. C told me later that he thought about how I was probably pretty unhappy, but there wasn't really any other solution he could come to, so he let it go as well.

I did, however, sleep pretty darn well, if not for as long as I would have liked. We had plans to meet J and B for lunch at a really good sushi place, and I wanted to be all dolled up, but since we had the house inspection right before, I knew I'd have to get all fancy before we even showed up for the inspection. So I got up early to make sure that I would have enough time to get dressed up (including curling my hair and doing my makeup!) and get everything else ready for the day. I did.

We headed out to the house inspection in the midst of a light drizzle. I was pretty happy about the cloudy, rainy day, because it seemed like it had been special ordered just for me! ^_^ Also, having rain during the inspection was great, because it let the inspector see if there were any leaks and how the water settled or ran, etc. It was most advantageous. The inspection itself went well, and there are no dealbreakers, so we'll be continuing to pursue this home. We write up and sign another contract tomorrow, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

After the inspection, we met up with J and B at the sushi place, but not before stopping at Walgreens and picking up a few things for C. The poor guy had come down with a cold the night before (staying up all night didn't help, I'm sure), and it was growing worse by the hour. He was a good sport, though, and enjoyed lunch. J and B hurried to get to the restaurant before we did, and they set up a few little things with the waiters to make my day special. For instance, instead of the usual (but gorgeous!) flower-made-of-carrots garnish on the plate, mine held a purple orchid. I didn't realize that they had ordered it especially for me until after we finished eating, and all the wait staff gathered around our table to sing Happy Birthday to me in a special, hand-clappy version of the song. Even C was smiling, singing, and clapping along! It was adorable :) The also brought me a plate with a serving of the strawberry-mochi ice cream that I love so much, and a scoop of another green ice cream that tasted like chocolate. They had written "Happy Birthday" across the plate in chocolate sauce, which was super cool, and a single candle was stuck into the mochi. I made my wish and blew it out, and then we shared the ice cream. (I got most of it, though.)

I had a massage scheduled that day, courtesy of Miss C as a birthday present, but I had gotten a call early that morning that it was canceled because the practitioner was sick. That was fine, because J and I had wanted to go shopping, and she had to get ready for work at three, so the timing wouldn't have worked otherwise. We split up in the parking lot of the restaurant, and J and I headed to Goodwill. I picked up two dresses and matching purses, one of which is a black purse shaped like a coffin with a shiny pleather bat emblazoned on the front. It's wicked cool. I love it. J found that and the brown clutch that I bought while wandering around, waiting for me to finish trying on dresses. For only having set foot in Goodwill for the first time the night before, she's pretty awesome at Goodwill shopping. The night before she found the armchair-style pillow that I was looking for while I tried on yoga pants.

She dropped me off at my house just in time for her to scoot off and get ready for work, and I changed into comfy clothes and hopped on the computer to deal with my fb wall. C came back and sprawled on the bed for a short rest before they had to head out and move another piece of furniture, and I cuddled up next to him. B came over, and we spent some time just hanging out and talking. They got the call and took off to move the furniture, and I continued to just "hang out". That was pretty much the theme of the rest of the day. C and I were going to watch a movie, but he was so tired and sick that he wound up in bed around 7 pm. Although game night had been canceled in honor of my birthday, a bunch of the guys ended up coming over and hanging out to talk strategy anyway, since there was no movie happening that night. It was fun to just hang out and chat while I surfed the internet for a few hours. I was tired myself and went to bed pretty early.

And that was my birthday. It wasn't the "big deal" that it might have been, were I living somewhere else or with other people, but it was nice. The restaurant thing really made it special, and I made it a point to tell B and J that when I thanked them. It was great to spend time with B and J, because B signed on with the Army last week. He's shipping out the weekend before the wedding, which sucks! He's been wanting to be a witness to/part of the wedding for the last seven years, and he was supposed to be C's best man. I mean, it was a no-brainer. He was the one. (Now C's bro D is the best man, which he's happy about. He was joking about fighting B in the "circle of death" for the privilege when we were first planning the wedding.) Well, J had already decided that she and her son were moving back to T to be with her family when B got into the military, whenever that would be. Now, due to timing, she's moving next week. You know what that means? Not only are C and I losing two very good friends, we're both losing our attendants for the wedding! She was supposed to be my maid of honor, and do my bachelorette party with me, and get a massage and a manicure with me the day before, and help throw my bridal shower, and... we're both really sad that she is going to miss all that. Not to mention the fact that we've become real good friends, and I'm going to miss her a ton. I went over the evening before my bday and hung out on her bed and chatted with her for like, four hours while she packed. She gave me a bunch of stuff as she thinned their possessions out, and she jokes that she did it so that I'll cry and miss her when I see it after she's gone. The worst part is that she's totally right! I will. Neither of us have cried in front of one another about her leaving yet, but I know we'll cry when she leaves. (We've each cried privately, and talked to one another about it, but we have sort of vowed not to cry with each other before she leaves, because we feel that it will only start a downward PTSD/depression spiral, since both of us struggle with that.)

Although C was sick, he was a real trooper while he was awake. S and M took off to the convenience store and a fast food joint before all the other guys got there, so the house was empty for a bit. C took advantage of that rather quickly, and took me into the bedroom to give me my birthday spankings. (Do you realize how many swats 25 is? A heck of a lot!!) That, of course, led to other types of celebrations... after which I put him to bed. I was happy, though. It was just what I wanted ^_^

So, yes. It was a good birthday. Oh, and I got a camera from J! Have I even mentioned that yet?? I think I did... Anyway, I'm super stoked about it. I tried it out last night, and it works beautifully... if I can figure out all those blasted buttons. I'm used to a good ol' point-and-shoot. I'm going to have to learn this camera so I can create some truly beautiful art.

One of the best parts about my birthday was learning that we're going to be moving forward with the house. Walking the rooms with C and deciding where to put things did my heart a world of good... but I've been a little restless since. I'm anxious to feather my nest... once it's actually mine, of course!

Had my endoscopy today. It went well, though it did screw me up some.

Didn't destroy me (yet) like the colonoscopy, but the longer the day wears on, the worse I feel.

My theory is that, while they have you knocked out, they actually hit you with a bus. Feels plausible. :)

In other (good) news, the ladies of the HJ are throwing me a bridal shower in two weeks!

Also, J sent me a package that contained my birthday/wedding gift, and it arrived today. Know what it was?

*drumroll please*

A camera! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Not only have I missed having a camera very much, but I was feeling the lack as I looked forward to my honeymoon. How was I going to capture our joy and fun and share it with others? Well, now I can!

Also, on a practical note, I needed a camera for the Etsy venture I have planned. Sweet.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I have amazing people in my life that take such, such good care of me, I am sometimes overwhelmed with gratitude. Even on my darkest, pain-filled days, I always know that I am incredibly loved and cared for. (It's on the shaky days when my self-confidence and self-worth are somewhere below the earth's crust that I doubt this, simply because I wonder why people would care about me and what I could possibly contribute to their lives that would cause this?)

Also, my spoon earrings came today! I will take a picture (now that I have a camera, hehe) and proudly show off my spoony ears.

Oh, and one more amazing thing? I made my birthday wishes known, so tomorrow S and one of our friends M are going to deep clean the apartment, because I no longer can. That is... awesome. And M gave me twenty bucks, because he totally didn't know what to get me and knew that I know myself well enough to buy what I want. Too funny! So I think I'm going to buy another pair of comfy yoga pants, a cute dress (both from Goodwill, although there is a really cute lace dress I keep seeing at Walmart...), and maybe another pair of dangly earrings. They're seriously my new addiction. Or maybe a new cd of music for myself... I've been meaning to clean out my car's cd case. Oooh! I can invest in a new tower of burnable cd's! I somehow lost my stack of blank cd's, and I've been super bummed about that. Yeah... yoga pants, a cute dress or top, mb some dangly earrings, and blank cd's. Happy birthday, me!

(It's funny how, when the people around you don't make a big deal about your birthday, it really isn't a big deal anymore. Living with the S's, birthdays were an event, a cause for celebration! Now that I'm on my own, it's less of an event... just kind of like a passing slightly-better-and-more-important-than-normal day... which is okay. That's where I'm at right now. That may change in the future, but it's okay for now. I'm looking forward to making my child's birthday a cause for celebration, though. Anything, really, to break out the good glasses and celebrate! ^_^)

Ah! Almost forgot! We have our house inspection on Friday. I'm holding my breath... (And then we'll go out to lunch for my bday with our friends who are now moving super soon at one of my favorite sushi places. You know I'm gonna get all dolled up! I love an excuse to dress up. Maybe I'll wear my new cute dress?)

My sis J sent me an ecard, and the message is so beautiful that I want to remember it always. Sooooo... I thought that, if I write it down here, it won't get lost! I just wish that I could convey the beauty of the music, as well. It's such a pretty piano piece.

The card itself says,
"God created you... every little detail about you. He gave you life and special gifts to fulfill a unique purpose in this world... a mission He planned just for you. God knows you better and loves you more than anyone ever could.

He is your wise Father and faithful friend, who takes great joy in you.

Celebrating you today and hoping you remember that God celebrates you every day!"

The note from J at the bottom says,
"My dear C,

I couldn't help but think of all the pictures you took of our grapes when I saw this ecard. It reminded me of the artistic talent God gave you for capturing life on film (digital film, LOL). I admire your skill. Keep it up!

I hope that this will be an extraordinary birthday for you! I know you've been going through a lot of emotions and feelings lately, and I pray that this birthday will not only bring laughter and joy, but healing as well. I wish we could spend it with you (although we'll see you in just a few weeks!!).

Eat an extra piece of GF dessert for me.

Love you sis,
J"

Where do I start in processing through all the events of late?

Campmeeting was great. It helped me a lot in my consideration and study of the OT feasts. I used to think that feast-keepers were crazy weirdos, but now I realize that they are not. They're really sincere in following God's will as expressed in Scripture, and I really admire them for that. I loved how the studies and talks presented really illuminated God's character further, and even the cross. I didn't think that would be the case-- I was hesitant about the whole thing. But, it proved to be a blessing. I wonder where my studies will lead me?

The S family is so inclusive and warm-- I love it! I got to meet D's side of the family for the big birthday party in his honor (and because he has cancer, it was a kind of "just in case we don't get to see you again" get together). I got to meet a lot of his friends from the olden days (when they were my age), and it was great to see them all interact. We pulled out our guitars and jammed together-- what a blast! I love music.

I visited another massage school down here, one run by people of my denomination. I'm really, really leaning towards it, which is ironic, because I didn't even want to go check it out. I kind of did it as a favor for C. I wasn't thrilled about it, just by looking at the website... I guess I had set my heart on going somewhere where no one knows me, and I don't have the pressure of living up to expectations... Although, the churchgoers in this area are so liberal, I probably wouldn't have to worry about that. Aaaaaand, I'm supposed to be learning about not judging myself according to my perception of other's expectations and trying to act a certain way just because I think that it's expected of me... *Sigh* Easier said than done. Anyway, this school intrigues me, and the director and I really clicked. I've got my lists of pros and cons, I'm praying like crazy, and as I work through this, I think... I'd be kind of foolish to walk away from this school without some serious reasons for turning it down.

Hmm. Oh, yes! Healing Journey wants to give me a scholarship! Yeehaw! We'll see how that works out-- I'm not hanging anything on it just yet, but I'm excited about the prospect. I need to decide what school I'm going to, first. I should have a decision in a week or two at the most. My folks need to know what my sched will be like so we can buy a ticket for me to come visit for Christmas.

J is shocked that I will be making such a decision so quickly. It took her three years to decide where to go to school, what to take, etc. I mean, this decision of mine has been a process of several months, one step at a time, but it's significantly faster than her decision making process. We're just very different in that way. Very, very different. Hehe.

Some friends of mine down here in southern CA have invited me to go canvassing with them tomorrow. Eeep, is all I can say. I want to hang out with them, but I really don't want to go canvassing. We'll see. I just had a convo with JC about canvassing, and both of us not wanting it to have "beaten" us. I almost want to go just to prove to myself that I can, you know? Sort of a "face my fears" type thing... but I know that's not the right motive. Plus, I still really, really don't want to. So if I do, I'll probably just sit in the car or something. Maybe accompany someone else as they're at doors. It's a start.

Some friends of D and C's are taking us out to Indian food tonight. I know for a fact that Indian food contains garlic. I've decided to just bite the bullet and try it. If I perish, I perish. I'm tired of making a big deal about food. *sigh*

Anyway, this trip has been good. I'm very glad that I came. I was unsure of how things would turn out, but, yes, I'm glad I came.

JC has been calling me much of late. I wonder what that means? I think I need to set a boundary on the amount that we talk. I'm glad to have him as a friend, but I'm not interested in a repeat of the Awkward Saga. I know what can happen when you talk too much to a single guy, when you're too vulnerable... and JC and I have this wonderful friendship where we're able to be very truthful and open with each other. Dangerous stuff.

The fam jokes that, if I came down here (to an Adventist mecca), that I'd probably wind up married with a baby, and it'll all be over. I'll say the thought crossed my mind, but I have come to the conclusion that I'm not ready to be married. I've got growing to do... I listened to a sermon by David Asscherick called Hitchhiking For Love that really helped me see with greater clarity some things I'd realized after the break with D. I mean, yeah, I've got the skills it takes to take care of a household, but I'm not the person I need to be yet. I need more time.

That's hard to take, because I want to be in a loving relationship. I really do. I want what I see that D and C have. I want what I see a few other people have... but in the right time. It's hard, but it's better this way.

I'm learning so much from this processing through my relationship with D! Maybe this is what God had in mind when he directed us together?

Life... it moves on, regardless. I'm so glad that God is directing my footsteps. He will open and close the doors for me to walk through.

(The title reminds me of the song "2000 Years Ago" by Rescue. I love that song.)

Today, I am 23.

I didn’t really think about making it to this age. I mean, I kind of assumed that I would, but... I thought that I would probably die young. (Not that 23 isn’t young.) The thought of dying young didn’t matter to me, though. I had nothing to live for anyway- no passions, goals, dreams, or pursuits. That has changed.

I’m glad to be alive.

Since it’s Tuesday, I’m going to forego my newfound tradition of Tubular Tuesday (thank you, Chrysalis!), and instead think of 23 things I’m thankful for.

1. People who love me (Yeah, without strings attached, too! Can you believe it?)
2. A surprise visit from my mom, who also loves me (I know that’s not always the case)
3. My cat, who loves me (He does, really. I’m not making it up.)
4. Safe people
5. Healing- emotional, physical, spiritual
6. A job
7. My year in Idaho
8. The ability to hear
9. God- he hasn’t given up on me.
10. Herbal tea with honey
11. A dependable car
12. Options for my future (not everyone has a choice)
13. Delicious, safe food to eat
14. Indoor plumbing
15. Health insurance (It’s been so long, I’ve almost forgotten how to use it!)
16. Racquetball and friends to play with
17. Natural remedies (when they work...)
18. Hot water bottles
19. Learning about tenosynovitis of the abductor picillis(?) longus (deQuervane’s syndrome)
20. Voluntary mediators
21. Cell phones/texting/facebook to keep in touch
22. A laptop of my very own (I’ve had it for a while, but I’m still grateful.)
23. Music and the ability to make it

I know that, when I’m depressed, it can be hard to see what’s good about life, what I’d be missing if I gave it up, or if anyone truly cares. But, truly... I am blessed. I have more than I had ever dared to ask for, and I am very, very grateful.

My family and my friend H surprised me with MY MOM!!!

I had invited her to come up for my birthday, hoping that she could (I have so wanted to share my life up here with her), but the statement came that we are just too poor for it to work.

I forgot all about it. My loved ones didn't.

They all pitched in to get her here, and I screamed! :)

Basically, I'm delirious with happiness.

I'll post later, when I come back down to earth.

I'm just... so happy.

Can it be? Truly? In all reality, am I actually... having fun?! Gasp!

I was fearful that it would be a big drain, and I'd come away depressed and anxious. However, I am finding that... I am genuinely enjoying myself, and the Gt's.

My stomach is cramping up a storm-- maybe something I ate I shouldn't have? Can't think of anything bad... that's the only "bad" part of this day so far.

We rode horses earlier, and I trotted! Then we hung out, had supper, played music, read the Bible, and now are getting ready for bed. I think tomorrow will be nice as well. J is coming, and bringing her harp so we can practice for our upcoming concert gig. We'll take a soak in the wood-heated sauna/hottub. We'll ride horses again, and this time, I'm riding bareback. And cantering. Or maybe just one of those options. We'll see.

But it's been unexpectedly fun. 

Thanks, God.