Laughingly laughs

Here's some real belly busters I've found in my merry adventures on the Internets.

1. Europeans and Party Poopers

2. I wouldn't mind having some of them for Christmas.

3. Because THIS is what's wrong with our country.

4. Yet THIS is everything that's right with the country.

Brought to you by the Centers for Procrastination.  You may now return to your mind-numbing, pointless  homework assignments.

Bursting

Wow, it's been a while.  Sorry 'bout that all you imaginary readers out there.  You know who you are.

I've been sitting in bed for the past 2 1/2 hours pounding out some work on the Sonoma County Gazette's blog, periodically interrupted by my goofy, gropey husband and his wet slobbery kisses (I think he took lessons from a dog at some point in his life), Brown Cow yogurt with Vanilla Cherry Granola from Food For Humans swimming around in my belly, and the beginnings of a tension headache caused by GOD.KNOWS.WHAT!  I'm bursting at the seams with thought.

Thought #1: Why is my heart rate so high when all I've been doing is sitting in bed?
Good questions, ol' brain of mine.  The only logical explanation I can muster is that the usual process nowadays when I have an anxious thought is matched with an equally uncomfortable physical reaction.  What's that law of physics again?  Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.  Well, in my case, I think anxiously, my body reacts anxiously.  So then the question remains, why think anxiously? I dunno...I guess after a lifetime of always bomeranging to the land of Wort Case Scenario can set someone up for this pretty nasty habit.  GAWD how I miss cigarettes!

Thought #2: I want a cigarette!

It's been over 5 1/2 years since my last puff off a cigarette and believe me, it was for the better.  I was pregnant with my daughter, and having just quit, I swore I'd never go back.  Until anxiety kicked in.  Now I've read that stimulants such as sugar, caffeine and nicotine can make anxiety WORSE, and while I believe it, part of me (that junkie part) is trying to justify this urge because it will give me something else to obsess on.  Crazy right?  Boy do I WANT a cigarette!

Thought #3: Holy shit, it's almost Christmas time, yet it still doesn't feel like Christmas 'cause it's not raining cats and dogs!  
Seriously, this is March weather, cold but sunny.  NOT December!  That happy-fuzzy-Christmas feeling STILL hasn't sunk in.  I'm usually a total crafting basketcase this time of the year, but there's something in my internal clockwork saying, "Nope, not time to start making stuff, yet.  You still have plenty of time.  It's not Christmas!"  WTH???  Realistically, I've got about 1 week left and I haven't even started making my stuff.  First I start by making a list, and since I'm such a list-junkie I'm really surprised that hasn't happened yet!  Then more lists of what I need followed by lists of people to give, cookie ingredients, card ideas, crafty crafty crafty madness!  Oh, if only there were an extra 24 hours  in the day!

Thought #4: Making a living.
Five years ago, I was working weekends at the Chamber, brining my newborn baby girl to work with me.  I had my own apartment, Jesse has a decent job and life was easy and simple.  Life is still simple, and yet, I feel like I've outgrown it.  Like a pubescent girl wearing clothes that don't fit her anymore, I'm still so attached to the prospects of easy, simple living in a small town; but there's no money in that. Now I can rant and rave about how I hate money and wish we lived on a barter system and blah blah blah, but that fact is we don't and money is GOD and if you don't have any, then you suck (and apparently are evil, too).  And while I love what I do at my job, it just isn't enough to sustain myself and my family independent from assistance programs.  Unlike what most of America thinks about families on assistance, I have a desire to be rid of them FOR GOOD!  The lack of privacy or ability to drag yourself out of the depths of poverty is maddening and is what leads to fraud of the system.  I wish for the day when I get to call my worker and say, "Thanks for all you've done, but please remove me.  I can handle my own, now."  Five years and counting...things are seeming a bit dreary and hopeless.  I look to my inspirations, Dooce.com, Regretsy.com and DigThisChickMT.com for guidance.

Thought #5: Getting my ass moving on projects.
What causes laziness?  No, really, I'm serious/curious!  What possesses us humans to take all our potential and energy, ball it up in a nice neat package of depression and self-pity and shove it up our ass?  And then we SIT on our ass, just to make sure it doesn't escape.  Well, I don't know about you, but I'm one of the laziest people I know, and it is a mood thing.  Dreary mornings lead to lazy launches of the day; such as this one.  While not dreary, I'm slightly overwhelmed with the various projects I've left unfinished.  Time for a little constructive procrastination.  Set you mind to something, but do something else instead.  I suppose as long as you're doing something, it's not procrastination.  OH!  I know, I'll make another list!

Last Thought for the day (not really): Anxiety sucks but can be good for you.
[See TIME Magazine's Covers from Dec. 5th; pay close attention to the US cover!]
Those of you who've been following my blog since the beginning (or can at least maneuver through the archives) know that I have been living with a problem with anxiety for some time now.  The past few months (hence the no blogging) have been going really well, with minimal setbacks.  Last week's setback brought me to a place I didn't want to go to ever again: hopeless.  I kept beating myself up, saying that even after 1 year I'm still no better than I was before, blah blah blah.  Then I realized just how much I beat myself up.  I'm worse on myself than I am on anybody else!  If it's not perfect, it's a failure.  Wow!  Where did THAT come from?  Well, right now, that's not important (Mom & Dad), but what is important and that I realized all the many times I begged and pleaded with Life (God, Universe, whoever) to make me better, make me stronger, saner, nicer, happier, wiser...I got an answer.  My dealings with anxiety are daily, ongoing and exhausting because I'm constantly fighting the urge to panic.  I've often wondered what would happen if I just let it go?  After 14 months of trying to hold on, I'd say it's time I start letting go and letting God take over.  Hard habit to kick, I suppose.  Good thing I'm a quick learner.

Most Imperfect

Nope, no video this time.  Thought I might use my written talents to portray the thoughts whirling in my head this cold, rainy AM.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a terrible body image.  I looked at my body and thought it was ugly, imperfect and not worthy of celebration or admiration.  In fact, even now, the thought of having a picture taken sends me into panic; "will my double-neck show?"  "I've been eating a lot lately, I bet my face is getting fat."  "My pants aren't fitting right again, my "love handles" are spilling out everywhere."  For as long as I've had this body, it has never been perfect.  When I was 16, I forced myself to stop eating and would only eat when I was starving.  I remember feeling sick for months; I'd feel sick when I didn't eat and yet when I would eat, I'd vomit or feel like vomiting.  This didn't stop until I became pregnant at age 17.  Then I went from 140lbs to 200lbs.  I exploded.  And my skin....well, let's just say pregnancy did not agree with the young age of my skin.

The thoughts are endless...I look in the mirror and strive for perfection.  Why?  There's no need to be perfect!  Even now, in writing this, tears come to my eyes; all I want is to love my body and myself, why is that so elusive?

My sense of fashion is senseless.  A mishmash of clothing that I can barely afford to buy from thrift stores, sometimes I feel tomboyish when really I just want to feel beautiful.  I find it sad and frustrating that I haven't figured out a way to accomplish that WITHOUT clothing or some outside influence.  Last night, in a conversation with a really good friend, I felt that nagging feeling again.  The first in a very long time that I've worried about my weight and now I'm reeling, feeling guilty about all the bad foods I ate and the lack of exercise.  I felt inadequate, again.  I fell asleep in a very dark place; hating myself, hating this body I was given, hating that it will never be what I want it to be....and worse yet, that I will never accomplish that "perfect size."

This experience has opened my eyes.  While it seems that I haven't grown much in terms of learning to love my body and myself, I do seem to have acquired the ability to at least see the self-destructive behavior and could potentially stop it.  So, this morning, instead of logging onto SparkPeople and getting fanatic about "gotta lose the weight AGAIN!" I did a search; women like me.  I came across this video from the Ellen Show, and thought WOW!  While I have no aspirations ever in becoming a model myself, I would, however, love one day to use photography as a tool to help me ascend beyond these damaging thoughts.



I'm 165lbs, 5'6", have a bodysuit of stretch marks and wear a size 12/14.  I've been this way for 5 years, and while I've tried and worked hard to achieve a change in these numbers, there comes a point where I must open my eyes and realize that these numbers don't count.  What numbers DO count are my blood pressure (PERFECT!), my cholesterol levels (NORMAL!), my thyroid levels (NORMAL!), my glucose/insulin levels (NORMAL: NO DIABETES!), and the people that love me regardless of those other numbers (ALL OF YOU!).

At Armstrong with the Kiddos this summer.

I still wish to have a lifestyle that supports healthy habits, including eating organic foods, balanced meals, etc.  One day, that will happen, when the income changes occur.  For now, though, I'll continue doing the best I can, in my most imperfect way.

Feelings...

For the most part, today has been an ordinary day.  I've picked back up on a project that sort of took a backseat for a while, and got to sit down and watch an entire movie with my boy.  Every morning since school has started, the kids hop in the car and, like clockwork, Atreyu requests his new favorite song, "Hurrican" by Bob Dylan.  Any ol' version of the song with do, so long as it has that haunting violin track in there.  And of all the things he wanted to watch with me today, he asked to watch (for the second time, mind you) Hurricane, the Story of Ruben "Hurricane" Carter.  Now, I'm assuming those who are reading my blob are somewhat knowledgable and know the story of "The Hurricane."  If not, visit here.

So here we are watching the story of an amazing human being overcoming unbelievable racial prejudice, not to mention some serious mental issues (no doubt caused by a rocky childhood coupled with being wrongfully sentenced to Life in Prison).  Little did I know, that as the credits roll on Hurricane's happy ending, 3000 miles across the country, a life was ending; a life that most likely didn't need to end.

To save myself from any sort of backlash, honestly, I haven't a clue who Troy Davis was until about a week ago.  His story, not unlike Hurricane, is tragic and tugs at the heart strings.  And while this man was convicted of murder, the evidence is lacking, as in entirely!  In Carter's case, the evidence was flawed, tampered; in Davis' case, it just didn't exist.

So here are some of my ramblings about today:

If any of you haven't read the book "My Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn, you MUST!  He lays it out, in black and white, where we went wrong.  It started with putting the FOOD under lock & key, way back in Mesopotamia.  Execution is no stranger to humans, as well as rape, incest, burglary, and war.  I think the more willing we are to embrace the animalistic side of our humanity, the easier we will find it to be in balance.  BALANCE being the key word here.  I do not believe in Peace on Earth so long as humans inhabit the planet.  If we truly wanted peace, we'd eliminate ourselves.

These are just my opinions.

Things are gonna clear up...

...put on a happy face. :-)

Down in the Dumps...

...yup, the title says it all.  But, to my benefit, I see on many Facebook statuses that it was not only I who was having a shit of a day.

There's so much to be said for the relief ones feels when either writing or speaking IT out.  I do feel slightly better, although I know that it is a wave of emotions that seems to conquer my thoughts.

Boomeranging from pissed off to anxious to despair to complacence is quite exhausting.  Now with pounding headache, I must return to normality, which includes but is not limited to cooking dinner, picking up the house, finishing and printing homework, and remembering to BREATH.

And so upon further research on this CalmClinic.com, I've come to the conclusion that it IS a scam, and even though there are some reviews on how it helped, they are vague and posted on unknown/unpopular blogger sites.  The Internet is finite; it's not difficult to get an account and perpetrate as an anxiety-ridden poor soul who stumbled upon your program and how it saved their life.

While I wish there were an easy 1-2-3 to anxiety, I just can't seem to think louder than the voice inside my head screaming SCAM SCAM SCAM.  I got my hopes up...really high.  And now, I'm down in the dumps.

Lest We Forget

9/11 - Can't look at those numbers the same ever again.  A couple of thoughts on this day:

And part deux:

So there's some deep thoughts.  And here's some pictures.  

Since they couldn't get a picture on their favorite stump, they found a NEW favorite stump.

 

One of their Favorite dug outs in a Redwood.  

We can't ever go to Armstrong Woods and NOT visit the Armstrong Tree.

They beautiful Redwood Theater, where many of the world's famous big bands of the 1920s and 30s have played.

Bread is our friend.

Group photo! Left to right: Ma-in-law Karuna, Jesse, Me, Jadziah, Zack, Mica, and Atreyu

The meditating monster.

It was SUCH a beautiful day!  And I can feel the Princess of Autumn making her way to our little home on the River.  What a great day; great friends to help distract from the bad ones.  A few days ago, Jesse surprised me with this comment: "Friends are God's way of making up for your family."

Amen to THAT!

Off Guard

Howdy y'all!  In honor of my dear friend who's gettin' herself hitched today (and I can't be there for!!!), I'm doin' things Texas-style.

Here's some more complaining:

Yeah, StumbleUpon has been pretty boring today....better get workin' on that homework.  Here's a little tidbit for motivation:

That one's for you, Kapi!  Congrats!

Instant Listener

Ooooooh, blogger's got a new layout!  Niiiiiice!!!


Ok, so we're doin' things a tad different.  I'm lazy, and tired, and wanted to talk, but was sick of the phone.  Then I remembered I have this wonderful MacBook with a built-in camera.  Aha!  Instant listener!!!  So, here's the first of my Video Blogs:

And this one...

and this one...

Here's the link to the Dasa Video

Hump Day Notions: Sweating Success

Walking on the beautiful campus of the Santa Rosa Junior College with my husband is a newfound joy in my life, along with finding abandoned and funky little fairy-shaped Silly Bandz on the ground. Today I tackled yet again with my stellar capabilities to overcome the life-cripling anxiety that has become so prevalent in my life.

Today was also the kid's first day of school. Atreyu transitioned into 3rd Grade beautifully today, with his new teacher Mrs. Robinson (whom I also had as a science teacher in 5th Grade). Jadziah was the one I was most excited for, since she stepped foot from preschool into Kindergarten on this beautiful sunny day. The feelings of elation, coupled with overwhelming sadness, spread throughout my body. As we walked them to their class rooms and gave them good bye hugs and kisses, I said to Jesse, "Can I cry now?" He dutifully responded, "Just wait until we get to the car." Sigh.

Speaking of growing up fast, Jadziah has taken up the art of riding her bicycle, without training wheels. They spent about 20 minutes in the sweltering heat in the tennis courts practicing runs and the like. Talk about sweaty success! These kids had a total bad case of helmut hair.

What's a mother to do? THIS is why we continue to expand on the species! We're forced into this perpetuating cycle of needing them to have independence, and yet the trade off is they ultimately end up leaving us. Gee wiz!!! Why didn't anybody tell me this?! They all told me how hard it was going to be just to keep them alive! They didn't mention any of this heartbreak when they grow up and leave. Sigh, #2.

Delicious Successes!

Part of the best therapy for me has been tending to my garden. Almost every morning this summer, I would walk into the garden with my cup of tea and gaze at all the overnight changes. Some might say that I'm a bit crazy for thinking that I'd even notice any change after a mere 10 hours, but YOU try putting down some Bat Guano and not see the magic unfold before your eyes. Here's a photo collection of what we have yet to harvest from our humble garden:

Not to mention the hungry, hungry Anise Butterfly caterpillar that we've bee nurturing:

So now I'm going to part on this lovely day to continue with my homework and editorial duties, but I leave you with this video of my dream dog, who sits at my feet whining 'cause she can't join her boy, who's outside playing right now. Pity her, the poor thing.

Bye for now!

Progress

It's almost 11:00pm on a wonderful Sunday evening. Just wrapped up watching StarGate, the movie with the fam and now getting ready to snuggle down and fall asleep to (you guessed it!) StarGate SG-1. Hah!

As I sat there watching the movie, I wondered to myself if I would have the gutz to walk through the StarGate. Honestly, I'm not so sure if I would. Today we went to Armstrong Woods with the intent on hiking one of the trails. I haven't done this is over a year and honestly the thought about being out in nature, a good amount of distance from my home, was making me feel more than uncomfortable. When I mentioned to Jess that I'm not feeling much for going on a big hike, he let out a sigh of relief and said he wasn't up to it, either. Good, I thought, 'cause I wasn't sure how well I was going to handle it. So, to answer my question, if I were given the chance to walk through the StarGate today, I would not do it. Right now, my sense of adventure and discovery is clouded with the fog of my anxiety disorder. Best to wait for the fog to lift.

And it's not that these foggy days are taking over my life, infact I've experienced more sunny days than not. However, sometimes it's hard to "roll with the fog", so to speak. I'm still looking deep to try and figure out how I got this way. I've summed it up like this: according to all the pros on Generalized Anxiety Disorder, the onset of the anxiety began after a traumatic event that shook my emotional foundation; however, the stage was set, with a super high-stress lifestyle, including overloading myself with school work, extra activities and volunteer work, leaving little to no time for myself, and even my family. So my brain did what it had to, by shutting me down. Now, I still believe I made it worse when I started investing a "cure" in medications and started on those. I know, now, what I need to do to get better.

So how do I do that? Well, for the longest time, I had no hope because even though I was consistently exposing myself to anxious situations, I lacked a sensation of relief when I accomplished my goal. Lately, however, I've had tremendous progress, especially when I face my fear and go forward. Today was an exception, because I felt like I hadn't pushed myself because we did not go on the hike, so internally, I wouldn't allow myself the satisfaction of feeling accomplished. Yeah, I know. I'm working on it. But I do remember feeling better after we went to the DMV last week, and that was a HUGE amount of stress; it felt so good getting it done and over with, walking out of there intact, and moving on with my life. I've given myself permission to ask for help, ie. have Jesse come with me. I think, in a way, this is designed to bring us closer together, or some bullshit like that.

The point is now I've made so much progress that even my perfectionist-self cannot deny it. I still have my moments/days when I feel like it's the end of the world/I'm overloaded/overstimulated/never going to get better. But I have this great arsenal of tools at my disclosure. My recovery includes going to Al Anon meetings, seeing my counselor, expressing my feelings openly with those around me, eating right, exercising daily, enjoying something (ie going to the river, sewing, reading, etc.), spending quality time with my children, deep breathing, meditating, journaling, blogging, and when I can-exposing myself to anxiety-inducing situations. I'm on my way, and even in this moment of anxiety, I'm feeling awfully optimistic and empowered.

Reassurance

The daily struggles with anxiety can leave a person feeling heavy hearted and sometimes very hopeless. I struggle and battle and succeed and accept anxiety on a daily basis and have been for the past 10 months. There has not been one day in those 10 months that I haven't experienced anxiety, even for just a minute, and I've often thrown myself into the investigatory role, seeking the answers to "why?". Yesterday and today are no different. Anxiety existed, but it wasn't at the forefront of my day. I carried on as normally as I possibly could, completing my goals and tasks for the day. Then, like an animal run out into the road, it was there, and it startled me. The adrenaline continues to resonate, as it did last night and now into this morning.

And quite literally, an animal DID cross my path as I drove, and as I did before, I slammed on the brakes. The opossum stayed put in the middle of the road as my car drove over it, not touching it, sparing it from death. I stopped, dreading that I had killed another innocent animal, only to see it's dark shadow continue across the road. What strikes me as odd with this is I had described the anxiety hitting me as though an animal had suddenly crossed my path. Is this a message? Or just a chance occurrence? I don't know, and I'm tired of speculating.

So I wonder, what caused this animal to cross my path?? What caused anxiety to cross my path?? I think the answer is nothing, it just happens. What reassures me is that there IS no reason, now, because for so long I sought for an answers to only learn that the answer is EVERYTHING. Everything in my life has caused my anxiety to do what it is doing. Everything from over-committing myself to the fights with Jesse to how I ate to the traumas I experienced as a child. Everything is responsible, so now it's time to start the change. I've made efforts in the past, but as usual we gracefully fall back into place of habit and comfort.

My reassurance is I KNOW I won't stay like this forever, although it may be a long long time. I'm not one to just accept that it's my destiny to fear everything and be stuck, in fact most of my frustration comes from how impatient I am with my recovery (a good sign, no?). And while everyday DOES have two handles (faith and anxiety), I am keen to picking up my day by both handles. I have faith in the Universe that I am capable of getting through whatever get's thrown at me. I carry anxiety so it doesn't carry me.

So for today, on this gorgeous sunny, overwhelming-to-the-senses day, I'll take the anxiety as it comes and embrace it. I'll practice my tools for when it gets tough, and I'll still come out of this day alive and well, just like I have for the past 10 months.

Ache

I'm aching all over...in my heart, in my head, in my body....the aching is ongoing.

I feel like the lights have been turned out and I'm forced to crawl through a room of doors, looking for the right one out. I've opened door upon door only to find myself back in this dark room of doors. Now I'm sitting here in this room, wanting to give up and just sit in sorrow on the floor. I'm sitting in this room, I've stopped feeling my way for the exit...I've stopped.

What makes a person wake up feeling like this? What causes this anguish? Where's the relief? I've asked God over and over to shine some light in this dark room, but am I not looking? I don't understand.

My head is pounding....from stress, from anxiety, from holding back the tears. I have no desire to do anything. I'm scared.

Of what? There's nothing to fear but fear itself, and that is precisely what I fear. It's as though I'm experiencing EVERYTHING and it causes me to become very overwhelmed with life. Even the smallest task has become the most daunting; the list of responsibilities is endless and I have no desire to even start on it.

If I only could make a deal with God....

Jump

This morning, at 9:30am, a young man walked onto the bridge, jumped the fence, tied a rope to the grill-siding and jumped to his death. The rope snapped and his body plummeted into the Russian River. He walked into the midspan of the pedestrian bridge, gracefully hoisted himself over the fence and expertly tied the last knot of his life. It hadn't occurred to me that I was witnessing the last moments of somebody's life until a while later...but as I sat there watching these carefully executed steps, he laid, dead, on Johnson's Beach. (The picture is from last week when Jadzy and I went on a walk to town; I've always loved how the bridge casts its shadow on the lazy River below.)

I wanted to jump through the screen and stop him and scream, "How could you? Why our town? Why here? You're so young! And I know you belong to SOMEBODY! How could you do that to them?!" I half feel sad and half angry! A sort of personal violation, because not only am I deeply attached to this town, I'm also attached to THAT bridge! He jumped where Jesse and I said our vows on the day of our wedding. He splashed into the River of my childhood memories, and those of my children. He washed ashore on the beach where thousands upon thousands celebrate a moments worth of freedom. How could he desecrate these sacred things for us?

...but then...I thought again.

Although I never met him, I've heard much about him. Dasa, my brother-in-law and in spirit, took the same plunge from a bridge in Portland, Or. Did any of these thoughts cross his mind? He wasn't in his right mind at all, so probably yes but the need to do it far outweighed the effects it would have on those around him. Those like his family who would never see him or hear him again...and those in his family he would never meet. Or even the woman who came to work that day, to glance out her office window and discover his lifeless body dangling from the bridge. What came into HER mind? Was she consoled, too?

Today, I feel like that woman...if ONLY I had been there 1 hour earlier, maybe I could have stopped him? Really, who knows why? I can honestly say, in my experience, that it was a mere thread that kept me from taking that same leap....those two little threads have kept me sane most my life: my children.

Dasa didn't have children, and I'm assuming this John Doe didn't, either.

So now what? Do I move on with my plans for the day? Or do I sit here and wallow in the sadness that surrounds me? Is it in their honor that I move on or is a disgrace? There's really no manual on how to deal with this kind of thing, not only in how to move on but also in honor of the dead. I'd rather not move on with my day as though nothing happened, but I also can't stop life from happening. Somewhere, a mother or father or brother or sister is getting a call that their loved one is dead, and I'm sitting here wondering how to go about the rest of my day because of it.

This evening, my family and I will be on the bridge to bid him a proper farewell. This cleansing of the bridge will help me to move beyond this tragedy, but also will help him move onto where he wants to be. He obviously did it for a reason, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he made the right choice.

Inspired

I'm so full of inspiration, I can hardly write, so I'll do the next best thing: make lists.

What do THESE things have in common?

pottery

art

prints

photography

color

sex

food

chocolate

writing

poetry

peace

walking barefoot for life

hope

ambition

blogs

dance

music

sing

laugh

talk

tell stories

converse about nothing

Alan Alda

popcorn

These are a few of my favorite things.....that I want to do or do to them the things that I want to do. Confused? Well, I don't necessarily want to "do" Alan Alda (course, if I could swing back to the 70s, that's a WHOLE other story), but a think I'd like to do with Alan Alda that is on my list would be "converse about nothing" with, or "laugh" with.....Jesus, did I really have to explain that? Ok....yeah, I'd do him, big deal! The moral of the story is, I'm SO inspired by the swirl of energy and art and beauty and tragedy and conflict around me, all these things on my list are exactly what I want to do and/or feel simultaneously at this very moment. How can I do that?

Well, I can start by putting M*A*S*H on the tube, that would take care of the Alan Alda/laugh part....but the rest? Yikes....I've given myself a long laundry list of "To-Do's" that could fill a lifetime! Or maybe it's more like a grocery list? A laundry list would imply I've already got it but it needs a serious cleansing, where as a grocery list suggests that I DON'T have it and need to get out there and get it....nah. It's a laundry list, maybe 'cept for the chocolate and food part....

So, look forward soon to a new blog by me documenting the progress of one of my favorite passions, my hometown, Guerneville. What better way to be a budding Historian than to document the goings-on of today?

Mourning

I am filled right now with rage and sadness, because today we learned that the awesome and most beloved Macho Man Randy Savage was killed this morning in a car accident. For Jesse, the loss is extravagant; his childhood hero taken by some cosmic force that felt it necessary that the world no longer needs folk of his kind. For me, I sit here mourning my husband who mourns his hero, because for the first time in WEEKS he woke with a smile and was happy. For the first time in weeks, his life didn't seem like a dead end, a constant cycle of monotonous everyday routine mixed with issues of being sober and deep, dark thoughts. No, today was supposed to be different. We were getting back on track...and then this.

I felt uneasy this morning, for no apparent reason. I felt like there was something looming, but rarely do I actually associate it with some catastrophe in the making. No, I generally assume it's just that part of my brain that's learned to work in overdrive, so I go through the motions of calming myself down. I got up and made some breakfast after a little snuggling with my happy husband. I sat at the table with Jadzy and ate breakfast while reading the slew of updated statuses on Facebook...and there it was. An old friend, living in Florida, posted: "RIP Randy savage." Holy. Shit. What? At first I thought she must have a friend named Randy Savage, 'cause there's no way Macho Man is dead. I did what any panicked, computer nerd would do in a situation of uncertainty: I turned to Google. Googled "Macho Man" and came up with a Wikipedia that had beginning and end years and for some reason it registered in my brain that he had died a while ago. After about two minutes of that, I realized just how WRONG I was, 'cause I remember reading an article about him and his new wife about a year ago. HOLY. SHIT! Back to google I go with the refined "Randy Savage" and there it was. DIED. May 20th, 2011. From a car accident. Holy FUCK!

"What the fuck do I do now?!" is what instantly went through my mind. Selfishly, I didn't want to tell Jesse...I wanted to keep this happy husband HAPPY, and I wanted to keep with the warm fuzzy feelings...and I knew that one word of this wouldn't make any of that possible. WHY? Jesus, God, whoeverthefuckyouare, why?!

I'm furious, to the point of tears. I hold my sobbing husband in my arms and all I can do is sob too, for HIM; mourning HIM because the happy, healthy, warm and fuzzy HIM is now GONE thanks to some great divine design to "off" his childhood hero. We are WELL beyond the point of "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" because we have been dealing, coping and living with a constant barrage of disasters, one after another. Don't we deserve a FULL 24 HOURS to be happy?! Just 24 hours of him smiling and me not feeling like I'm going to go insane...is that REALLY so much to ask for? Well, apparently so.

And now, across the world, the generations of Wrestling fans are in mourning, and my husband, my mother-in-law and my son are part of them. The World of Wrestling and Entertainment lost a pinnacle character today, and I hope like hell the McMahon family doesn't tarnish him like they did with Chris Benoit (another devastating loss to the Wrestling World and Jesse). I hope Macho Man's family can sustain this loss just as I hope MINE can, because this is certainly the last thing we ever needed.

Mama

Just wanted to record for today some of the precious discoveries I found last night in my retrieved files.

I love this photo of me and Jadzy; one of the few things I miss dearly about having babies is nursing. She spent 20 months of her life in this position (this was taken not too long before I finally weaned her).

I love this one of that little monster boy of mine. Taken on the ped. bridge. I love how the winter light lit up his little white face.

Little monkeys. Atreyu as a baby monkey.

Jadzy in the swing.

Precious moments in time that I'll never get back, and if it weren't for pictures, I'd have lost them entirely.

Perseverance

Is it weird that I enjoy reading my past blogs?

I woke this am, before anybody else, because my dreams were once again attacking my comfortable state of sleepiness. Right off the bat, like clockwork, the anxiety switch went on. I handled it well, though; just did my breathing and ended up falling back asleep; empty sleep, exactly what I needed.

I read through my blog posts to help give me insight; I forget that I've felt good or that I've felt worse. Realizing this helps me understand that I'm still normal and can function like anybody else, were it not for my ability to tune in to EVERYTHING around me. Maybe that's contributing to the feelings of being overstimulated and overwhelmed?

Yesterday was Jadziah's preschool graduation. She was SO adorable! Perfect little 4-year-old rambling around with her friends, getting her little certificate, showing her big brother around her classroom. It was a proud day yesterday! And yet, Mommy was having her same ol' issues. I did a meditation a couple hours before we left and during it, something occurred to me: DON'T make today about ME! Today is about Jadziah. -- What a concept!

It was such a beautiful day, and sitting on my deck, soaking up the sun, meditating my anxious feelings away, I felt refreshed. I have this desire now to practice meditation daily, to practice yoga and pilates, and do activities that slow my brain down. I find that the worst of anxiety occurs when I'm overstimulated and my brain is in the fast lane. But when I'm physically moving or stretching, it takes me down a few levels to something maintainable. I guess that's why I keep showing up to dance class.

Upon our return home from the party, I felt accomplished and that I can make it through my finals. I've been creating positive scenarios in my head surrounding finals week because I'm going to have to take a BIG leap that week. Twice I'm going to need to drive into Santa Rosa, alone. There's no need for Jesse to come with me, however he can if I need him to. But see the problem, there? Is it too much to ask him to continue being my crutch against anxiety? One year ago, I would have NO problem going into Santa Rosa by myself; I didn't even think twice about it, in fact I did it all. the. time. So what happened?

During the big blowout, I drove back and forth between Guerneville and Santa Rosa more times than I could count. Even though during the drive I felt no anxiety, I believe in there, something was planted, something that I'm still having a hard time understanding. About a week after the kids and I returned home, Jesse and I got into it again, on a school day, and I took off with Jadziah to head to school. I got halfway into Pocket Canyon when all of a sudden I felt like I just couldn't leave Guerneville; I couldn't keep going, 'cause it didn't feel safe leaving. This, I believe was the start of my plight with traveling and being in Santa Rosa.

Even now, however, in light of everything we've accomplished as a couple, a family and individually, those feelings of fear continue. It's a very discouraging feeling when it's been months and it's still there. However, it's not to say that I have not gotten better and am closer to being secure again in my travels. So I've been trying to apply the guided relaxation and meditation to these fears of traveling alone. Yesterday, I had the confidence in myself that I could do it. This morning, just the thought of it sent my insides tumbling and churning. This is an unavoidable event that must happen; I can't NOT show up to finals, but I also cannot drag my poor family along just to accompany Mommy so she doesn't freak out.

This whole thing just isn't fair to anybody. It's not fair to the kids, not fair to Jess, certainly isn't fair to me. And because of this fact, I feel an unsurmountable amount of pressure to get better, and get better quick. Instead, I need to remember to continue persevering, because if I give up, I'm giving up on my family as well.

Wasted

If there were ever a thing that I get belligerent on, it's my emotions. My raw, irrational, uncompromising emotions. So much of my life and energy is wasted on this substance; My emotions tear apart my foundations of sanity, they rip my family away from me, they make the ground disappear, they put out the light. And yet, I reach for the bottle every. single. time.

Friday was a big day for me. The first book signing: a phenomenal event. And what did I do? First thing in the morning, I reached for my bottle of "Get Anxious to the Point of Insanity" and took a BIG swig. It hit my head so fast, it took my heart a few beats to catch up, then it was up-and-at-'em with the adrenaline rush. What was I afraid of? I was afraid of the crowd, the faces looking at me, how I was going to feel, what I was going to say, if Jesse was going to have an emotional breakdown. Holy bejeebuz! The list was ongoing. Did any of my fears come to fruition? None but one came to be, and even then, it was a delayed response. Fortunately, I was wise enough to know that I might be having a bit of an issue with such a large, stressful event: I schedule my therapy session the morning of. GENIUS!!! My therapist saw how tense and scared I was and had me close my eyes and walked me through the evening to come, in what's known as "guided relaxation". I haven't felt that relaxed in MONTHS! It was gone! Holy smokes! I'm not dysfunctional! The crappy feelings of fear and hopelessness and wants of ending it all went away! And STAYED away!

Three things I learned that day that I keep in my head to throw in the face of anxiety:

1. It's JUST a Thought. Thoughts are irrational and impulsive and they are designed to come and go. That's WHY we can meditate, that's WHY not all of us are psychopaths (they're the ones who LISTEN to every. single. thought.). So I envisioned my thoughts coming up like clouds, or even storms when they're the nasty ones; but in the end, every cloud goes away, carried by the wind, and just as every thought does, too.

2. A Mental Hospital would turn me away. This has been a big one for me. I've had this terror of ending up in a mental hospital from all this anxiety. It took voicing this to her to finally get that I'd have to be running down Main Street naked, batshit crazy for them to even consider MAYBE I might need to be placed on a waiting list for some outpatient therapy...NEVER ending up in a mental hospital. And in fact, as she puts it, every person she's ever heard express that fear has NEVER ended up in one; it's the ones who don't know they need to be there that end up there (most times, at least).

3. Stress is the #1 Cause of ALL. THIS. SHIT. I'm sitting in my chair, tears rolling down my cheeks, and I'm expressing to her that I'm scared I'll be this way forever. She then instructs me to tell her what I do in one week. So I did, and here it is:

-Work x2 week with a MOUNTAIN of responsibilities (I've come to realize that this is the 5th Child)

-Home, continuously; ongoing marital problems + child rearing issues + animals and house responsibilities + bills = #1 Stressor

-School x2 week, consisting of 10.5 units (which I one handled like nothing before), which recently includes having to orchestrate a 1.5 minute dance, lead a group that is presenting a chapter to a class, finish a photographic project that I feel ZERO passion for, not to mention the financial burden that is still required in needing to buy mats for my final portfolio and more photo paper, and then a final paper on California Government for the elusive online class.

After reciting these lists to her, and by the look on her face, we determined together that my anxiety levels peak when I'm pushed against a wall with responsibilities.

Now, this got me to thinkin'. While the blow-out between Jess and I was paramount to the development of the extreme anxiety, I am now starting to see how the signs were present in the twilight of the event. I recall being anxious about going to SF for a festival, two weeks before, then feeling the pressure about the book deadline, three weeks before; the feelings of dread and hopelessness because I had recently come to the conclusion that ASL Interpreter was not for me, therefore leaving me with no career direction; also not to mention it was the first time we were enrolled in Summer School (BAD idea!); Jess and I were constantly fighting about his alcohol consumption and my constantly having projects. It's no wonder it didn't happen any sooner; I REALLY wasn't taking care of myself, which translated to I wasn't taking care of my family. Work was suffering, school was suffering, my homelife was suffering...I was wasting away by being wasted on my addictions: keeping busy to avoid thinking about everything that I'm faced with now.

Well now I'm paying the price, and I have to remember this. I. am. paying. the. price. Tonight, Jess and I sat down to figure out what our class schedules are for finals week. And, not to my surprise but DEFINITELY to my objection, our finals are on different days, which translates to us traveling to SR at different times, which automatically figured in my head as a recipe for disaster. I've convinced myself along the way that I'm too unstable and unready to drive myself to Santa Rosa, without anybody. Although I have done this before, it was a few months ago and I was REELING from anxiety even after it was done and over with. YIKES! The point is, thought, my immediate reaction was, "I can't do it. It's too hard for me to do. I'll have anxiety. I won't make it. I'll freak out in the car. I'll freak out at school. I'll crash the car from freaking out. I'll be too scared to move. I'm not safe if I'm alone." Soooo....see how damaging believing in irrational thoughts can be? At this moment, I'm feeling a pretty good amount of anxiety, not only over this, but now the anticipation of the weeks to come leading up to the event. Oh boy...I don't even give myself a chance to get it right!

There's this part of me that's strong, though, and it's reaching to everything that I know and everything that I've learned while recovering from this garbage. This part of me wants to sit down, meditate, guide myself through the experience, learn to live with the anxiety, be one with it and let it GO! I can hang on for another year. I can hang on for five years! As long as there's an end in sight, I can do this for as long as I need to, as long as I get out of it as ME, in this life. This obsessive behavior doesn't help anything; if it's all I ever think about, then no wonder it's all I ever feel. I sometimes wish there were something physically wrong with me, so that I had something solid to blame: but I don't, 'cause there IS no cause to it. It's. in. my. head. Always has been, always will be. Just got to remember to breath, recognize that they're just thoughts (and everybody has them), let them go and MOVE ON.

Breath

...in my nose, my belly rises; out my mouth, belly falls...eventually my brain will recognize that I am ok and it's time to stop the rush of needless adrenaline. Countless times I've done this today, and why? There is no reason why...

Admitting that the anxiety is in my head, not caused by an ailment of my body, it a very difficult concept to process. When something like this is wrong, I'll go searching for answers. Is it thyroid? Is it hormones? The only answer that I've gotten and will continue to get is NO. It's in MY head. But what's making my head react the way it is? What makes it take a perfectly GOOD day, where nothing bad has happened, no fights, no traumas, no nothing; just an ordinary day, and turned it into a mountain to climb? I believe in stress causing a great deal of ailments for humans, and at the moment that is the only root I can grab hold of.

I sat down and evaluated my stress and here's what I've come up with:

3-4 hours homes work every day

14 hours work each week

8 hours gone at school

Remainder belongs to the kids (first), social activities (second) and myself (third).

I'm feeling now that even the simplest commitment becomes another mountain to climb, whether it's simply visiting a friend or showing up for an appointment. Another big stressor I wasn't expecting to experience was the stress of success: my book. The big book signing party is tomorrow and I've felt nervous about it for some time. While I know this is normal, I am frustrated by the poor timing my brain has when it decided to tackle another battle with level 8 anxiety attacks. God, how I wish there was a magical pill that would wipe it all away...but if there were, I probably STILL wouldn't take it, 'cause I hate pills! I hate this! I'm soo SICK OF IT!!!!

I'm so sick of doubting myself, remembering times when I was fine and got through scary situations, and feeling like I'm going to lost it! Am I obsessing? Is this what an obsession is? I don't WANT THIS!!! I never wanted this!!!! I just wanted my family to function in a healthy way, not teetering on the edge of alcoholism and anxiety. I don't want my babies to grow up with a Mom this fucked up! I don't want to leave them, yet sometimes I feel like that's the only way I can get relief! I'm so so so so SOOOOO sick of it! I know I can experience normalcy again....but what did I do to get here? What happened?!

The seeds of hopelessness has be planted long ago and I'm trying to kill that fucking plant....how on Earth do I do that?! And why on Earth does every skill I have stop working after a certain point?! All my skills I've used to calm myself down worked great in the beginning....now, it's like they've become dull, almost to the point of being useless. Visualizing "STOP" or saying "I'm not going there" has helped me more times that you'll know....but now? It's like the anxiety grew in the time those skills worked and it waited for the perfect moment to railroad my off the tracks and into the dust.

All I can do it breath.....that's my only option.

War

As more days pass that I get to experience anxiety and the like, the more theories I come up with to help explain their existence. Sometimes I see it as an ascending spiral, spinning round and round, always revisiting those hard moments. Sometimes I see it as a war: moments of calm between the bombings of battles. I've won numerous battles, and now I'm marching my line into the fire, again, battling yet another onslaught of unexplainable anxiety.

I want to let it go and just move on with my life. I can sit here and ask myself "Why" over and over again, but what good does that bring me? I can sit here and doubt my abilities to overcome it, convincing myself that I'll be crazy the rest of my life. But, what I DEFINITELY can do is breath and tell myself that I can handle this and that it, too, will pass. And it does.

It usually starts in the morning, almost at the instant I wake up and remember I'm conscious and that I can start worrying about stuff. Hah! Then I close my eyes and envision myself somewhere beautiful and calming. After a few moments of that, I feel slightly better and can drag myself out of bed and start my day. I've done these things today, and although the tingling, shaking sensations have yet to leave my body, I feel strong enough to face my day.

This war, however pointless it may seem in the moment, I believe is neccessary for me; I ASKED for change, I ASKED to become a different person; here it is! The bridge between the old me and the new me, masked in a fog of uncertainty, fear and anxiety. A friend of mine once suggested that it might even have something to do with when I was practicing opening my chakras. I suppose it is logical to think that sometimes when we have so much crammed inside us and we start awakening it, it has a tendency to lash-out. And our minds, especially in times of change, function in such a way that protects it from those "dangerous" changes. Knowing all this helps me, tremendously.

I know I won't be this way forever. I know I'll be able to do the things I was once able to. I also know that I need to let these things go for now and do what my mind and body need me to do; rest, relax, and take refuge.

Why

Today I'm back at that question: "WHY?" Why me, why this, why now? Why why why???

I'm so mad I can hardly contain myself!!!

I've gone a couple months now without feeling this persistent state of anxiety, the kind that keeps me in my house, away from friends, out of my job, etc. MONTHS! And now, for no apparent reason, here it is again! I keep telling myself, "you've been here before, you made it through, you'll be ok." But that's just it! I've BEEN there before, never to return!!! WTF???? WHY is this happening to me? WHY now? WHY WHY WHY! I'm so fucking mad, frustrated, scared, all I can do it cry, like a big fucking baby. WHY?

I feel like I'm being tortured by some force...I don't know what would possibly think this shit would be a good idea for me to be going through, but I certainly don't find it amusing or beneficial. I feel like it's going to make me lose my mind and I'll end up in a looney bin. FUCK THAT! That's not where I belong! I belong at home, with my babies, at my job, out with friends, never hesitating at life's opportunities. BUT NO! I'm stuck here in my fucking head! And it won't stop!!! I wish I wish I wish it would just STOP!

I know I'm not supposed to fight this. I'm know I'm supposed to lie low, let the smoke go over my head and out the door until I can muster up the strength and bravery to crawl my way outside. How the fuck do you lay low when holding still is enough to drive you mad? WHY? That's all I want to know!!!

Dirt (Sunshine)

Plot, plot plot and plot some more. Every Spring, the ideas start swirling in my head, plotting the next bumper crop of life I anticipate spending the next few months battling with. This battle, between me and the plants; me, so impatient, and them, so unequivocally unwilling to cooperate and produce anything remotely resembling that of a vegetable. By the end of this battle, I pledge my unwillingness to put myself through it again....and then Spring happens.My fingers and palms are throbbing, the skin feels as though it's going to burst into flames, bubble and explode in little craterous eruptions. But it feels so good! 'Cause it means a new beginning, a new chance to try it again. Not to win the battle, but to not have the battle at all by getting a good start, starting first, with myself.
The sprouting buds of green began midsummer last year, and I began my happy dance. Flowers, finally, flowers! Every girl deserves flowers in her garden, and I FINALLY got mine!!! One by one, they emerged from the dark cradle of earth, and one by one, began their climb to maturity. As the summer days passed and Fall "fell" upon us, the buds of flowers unfolded to reveal the wonderous colors of the Universe within. This happened silently, cautiously, and unnoticed.
These daisies are symbolic of life, that things DO remain and can sustain the harshest of conditions. They've survived scorching heat of late August, and drenching rain and hail storms of Winter. Today, on this day, the daisies of last year remain in my plot of dirt. It was during their infancy that things took a turn for the worst with me, and Jesse, too. It was during their blossoms that we teetered on the edge of annihilation of our marriage. The darkest hours of my life went hand in hand with their relentless Wintery blossoms. I am this garden; the me that I lost in these long, hard six months was embodied into the golden petals of these delicate morsels of nature.
So on this sunshiny day, I worked and worked and worked. I drove my hands deep into the Earth and drew to the surface a whole new Universe of life. After about two hours of laboring away at the hard, crusted soil, it was time to knock off, hit the showers and lay out the rest of the day. Diana beat my to it.
And so did Mary Jane.
I am convinced that bubbles are fish crack. There's no slowing down for these buggers...however, it is quite zen to wake up to the sound of the waterfall in the living room.
And then there's the Dr. Suess sprouts. Twisting and turning this way and that...I'm very concerned that I've wasted $30 on seeds that aren't going to produce a damn thing but Dr. Suess rhymes.

Maintain

I'm walking down Main St., Guerneville when it dawns on me I need to visit my buddy Sam and get my hair cut, so I travel to the corner of Church and Main where the ol' Bar and Salon is. You have to walk through this rank, dangy bar to get to what used to be a dual-level laboratory turned to modern slice-and-dice Beauty Salon. I walk in and EVERYBODY is SO happy to see me, kinda like the weird nurses and doctors in the dream sequence scene of Pee Wee's Big Adventure, big red smiles and crazy clown eyes, and yet I can identify everybody! Ahhh!!! SO Sam takes me by the shoulder and plops me into her chair on the lower level, which upon closer inspection one would discover that the lower level was in fact an empty shallow pool. Ok. Anyways, Sam starts in on giving me a TOTAL work over, including sewing fake eyelashes to my real ones, insisting that it'll give my eyes the much needed oxygen that they seemed to be lacking. On my face is Sam, sewing away, and at my feet is Owen, in drag of course, but not his usual dragness; fucking scary, Pee Wee clown drag. Uggh! He's painting my toes with clown-red color and Sam has completed one eye when I've just about had enough! I jumped up and made an escape for my life. I run out the door and all of a sudden, I'm standing next to the Primary Grade building at Guerneville School, and I'm Sheryl Crow. Ok, seriously? WTF?! I start walking down the concrete ramp towards the play yard, in that Sheryl Crow, catwalk style, when all of a sudden the entire yard is COVERED in mud and grass and is completely flooded. Suddenly, I turn into a horse and start romping around in the mud....then my puppy starts howling and I wake up in the MIDDLE of an pretty intense adrenaline rush.

No wonder I was keeping the panic at bay all day!

In hindsight, it's pretty amusing that I would conjure up a seeming meaningless scenario such as this! But I spent a could portion of the day ignoring the voice in my head that tries to hard to convince me that I'm crazy and I should be locked up. When I can't talk it down, I ignore it, so that's what I did today.

Today, the last day of Spring Break; I usually look forward to getting things back on track 'cause that means it's a break from my family and everybody has their respectable places to be during the day. But this year was bitter/sweet, because I finally got to experience that simple life and solitude that I've been desiring now for months; what a quick end to a truly enjoyable vacation.

My favorite things about this vacation:

-Playtime with my babies, especially playing Apples to Apples when the power went out

-Watching the infant sprouts of the beginnings of our garden emerge more and more by each day

-Chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate

-Getting to have the WORST period of my life at home, in bed, not in a classroom

-Time to sew

-Rearranging our home so it becomes just that: Our Home.

-Reconnecting with the hubby in our room, with a door that has a lock on it

-Having a full refrigerator and pantry

-Reading a book that wasn't assigned and FINISHING it

-Watching endless episodes of MASH till the wee hours of the day with my beloved

-Making myself a new bag...yes that's right. This one's for ME:

One of the CUTEST skirts-trajedies turned to new and improved awesome hippy girl bag, that's all for me, me me ME! It wasn't mine while I was making it, but I've decided that I deserve it, after all that work, not to mention just how far I've come these past 6 months.

Tomorrow begins the onslaught of getting back on track, into a semi-new routine, and finding the strength to complete homework again.

Filth

This was one of the biggest reasons why I didn't want to wake last Saturday Morning...but would you believe me if I told you I actually managed to get these monsters to clean up this room in 20 minutes?! I know; fucking amazing!

I find it so fascinating how children can be perfectly content in their little worlds of filth and completely and total disorder. It's like as though a toy isn't truly loved unless it's been stepped on, peed on, half broken and established permanent residence on the floor. I remember as a child, the entire side of my bed, which there was a 1.5' gap, was FILLED (as in Landfill!) to the top of MY bed with toys, garbage, papers and clothes. That landfill remained for MONTHS on end until my mother was SO sick of it, she'd threaten to sell me if I didn't organize or put that shit away. But who am I to say anything, right? I mean, look at what USED to be my room....

Yep, that's our living room! For the past 14 months the hubby and I have been camped out in the living room...and why? Well, at first, it was to give the monsters a room of their own, especially the boy monster, but then after a year of that crap (you wanna talk about filth! oye vey!), we were pretty much done. So I set out looking for a bunkbed, found it, got that bitch installed tout suite, downsized toys, books, etc. and voila! Monsters have a room that they share! Hallelujah!

So yeah, here's my old "bed" room; as you could understand, I wasn't necessarily ready to jump at the opportunity to entertain any house guests with the "love pad" sitting right there, en plein aire. So now, 14 months later, we've moved our bed BACK into the original room which it once came, and it is GLORIOUS!

I've often tried my best to not bitch about the state of living myself and my family are subjected to on a daily basis, because the fact is: we are INCREDIBLY lucky (YES! Lucky!), whether or not we deserve it, to have 4 glorious rooms inside a HOME that isn't in any threat of anything, with the exception of a very moody, glorious chocolately-brown river who's swollen state has many Rats a tad worrisome.

<----Love Grotto #9.

Not too shabby. A bit weird, but HEY! At least we have a door, and a lock, and did I mention a DOOR? No more having to "pretend" to be asleep when really all you're trying to do is achieve ONE morning orgasm, meanwhile the children are running in and out of your "room." Ah....privacy at last!

I grew up in a house that had little to no privacy for most of my childhood, so certain things don't really bother me. In addition to that, we also had a very, VERY bad sense of household cleanliness, ie, it was considered a hazard unless it could self-ignite.

*sigh*All is well, now, because I have a DOOR and I can sleep naked and LOCK the door if need be. Ah, I believe it is the small things like these that set the adults apart from the children.