I don't think I'm hypomanic anymore, although when I opened the medicine cabinet earlier it looked like it needed to be cleaned. I've seen a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner (her name is Tia) in the past to get my medications, so I called her when I knew for sure that I was going into a hypomanic episode. It was Monday morning when I left a message with her service to please call me, and also told her it was important.
When I lived in NYC and I called my shrink at any time, he knew I wouldn't contact him unless I was in trouble. He always called me back within an hour, and if I was hypomanic, he'd order Haldol and Cogentin to be taken together for a few days until it ended. If I couldn't get those meds (if it was late and no pharmacies were open), he'd tell me to take 100 mg. of Benadryl until I could get to a pharmacy. If a hypomanic episode is not treated, it can progress into a full-blown manic episode and I'd have to be hospitalized to stop it. That never happened when he was treating me.
Now it's late Tuesday night and I still haven't heard from Tia. I had an appointment with my regular doctor today, and when I told her Tia hadn't returned my call, she got on the phone to Tia herself and left a message. I told my doctor that I felt strongly that if a person chose to specialize in psychiatry, they really needed to respond to their client's calls and she agreed. I'll never go back to Tia again except to tell her what I think of her.
Took 100 mg of Benadryl on my own last night and finally got a few hours of sleep. I'll probably do the same tonight just to make sure.
If you or someone you care about has a bipolar disorder, please ask them to contact me. I know that in my case it was very upsetting when I learned I was bipolar, but with good professional help, I came to understand and accept the illness even thought I'm not delighted to have it. It's really frightening to find yourself completely out of control of your own thoughts, and acting in ways that aren't normal for you. I haven't had an episode like this in nearly six years and it's my first time having one when I haven't been drinking.
I learned from my NYC shrink that 85% of people who are diagnosed as bipolar also have a substance abuse problem. I used booze to control the mood swings, but eventually it catches up with you anyway. It's not as scary now that I understand it as a chemical imbalance, and it really helps to talk to others dealing with the same thing. Don't be afraid to talk about it -- it's a disease as much as diabetes is a disease, and it's generally controlled well with medications.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
And the Manic Beat Goes On
Another day of cleaning, although when I first got up (after just two hours of sleep) I thought that perhaps the hypomania was over. Then I went in to take a shower, and while doing that I started to clean the shower walls and doors, so I KNEW I was still manicky. My hypomanic cleaning isn't like the surface stuff we all do from time to time to give the impression that we're clean, but it's serious cleaning. Like yesterday -- I took everything out of the three drawers in my computer desk (haven't done this in two years), washed out the drawers, and neatly arranged everything so I'd know where it was.
In doing the above task, I discovered that I had three calculators! I don't know where they came from! Do these things multiply in the night or something? Also had a ton of bubble wrap that had come with various things we'd ordered, and I just can't stand to toss it since it can be so handy for future mailings. At least that's the rationale for keeping it at the time. It's two years later and I haven't used any of it! I'm still keeping it anyway just in case of whatever.
Does everyone who has a computer also have miscellaneous cables stuffed away somewhere? I must've found ten different cables -- parallel cables, printer cables, unknown cables -- and I'm afraid to toss them! So in my hyperstate, I rolled up each and fastened them with twisties. Sure looks better but I now have a drawer with unused bubble wrap and cables!
In doing the above task, I discovered that I had three calculators! I don't know where they came from! Do these things multiply in the night or something? Also had a ton of bubble wrap that had come with various things we'd ordered, and I just can't stand to toss it since it can be so handy for future mailings. At least that's the rationale for keeping it at the time. It's two years later and I haven't used any of it! I'm still keeping it anyway just in case of whatever.
Does everyone who has a computer also have miscellaneous cables stuffed away somewhere? I must've found ten different cables -- parallel cables, printer cables, unknown cables -- and I'm afraid to toss them! So in my hyperstate, I rolled up each and fastened them with twisties. Sure looks better but I now have a drawer with unused bubble wrap and cables!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
North vs. South = Bipolar?
No, "Bipolar" doesn't mean you summer at the North Pole and winter at the South Pole. It means you have a chemical imblance that was formerly known as Manic Depression. I was diagnosed with it in 1990 and 98% of the time it's controlled with medication. When the medical community messes with my medications, I have what is known as an "episode". I've been what's known as "hypomanic" since I got out of the hospital. You are about to get educated regarding this illness.
So what is bipolar disorder? It is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in a person's mood, energy, and ability to function. It causes intense mood swings in two extreme directions: mania and depression.
Although no one is entirely sure what causes it, evidence suggests that it has to do with the chemicals in the brain. Changes in the levels of these chemicals can cause parts of the brain to become either overstimulated or understimulated, thus resulting in the two behavior extremes. When you are exhibiting symptoms of either mania or depression, you are considered to be in an episode and are not stable. During those times, I need to focus on getting the chemicals back in balance, generally with the help of a professional. The most important thing to keep in mind about bipolar disorder is that it is NOT something your loved one can control or fix on their own. It is passed on genetically in families, so there's nothing you can do to prevent it or to make it happen. My dad was bipolar but didn't know it until I was diagnosed and he learned about and identified with all the symptoms.
When I'm experiencing "hypomania" which is essentially a move toward a full-blown manic episode, I feel energetic, creative, extremely talkative, need very little sleep, and for me personally, I try to get my life organized because I think it makes me feel like I'm still in control. If I could I would choose to stay hypomanic forever, but it just doesn't work like that. If I didn't take Lithium and Paxil, I'd either become fully manic or so depressed that I wouldn't be able to function. Hypomania is in the middle and it's great. If I could bottle it and sell it, there would be no drug abuse 'cause everyone would feel this good.
The change in moods doesn't come about quickly for me at all, but rather slowly and it sneaks up on me. I notice that I'm suddenly spending two hours cleaning the kitchen, organizing drawers that have needed it for months, writing a lot (like now), and in my case, making lists constantly -- things I need to do, people I need to call, blog ideas, anything I can think of that would comprise a list. I start using copious amounts of Post-Its as reminders to myself, can't read much since I can't stick with anything for very long (a sort of short-term Attention Deficit Disorder), don't have to to eat or watch TV 'cause I'm much too busy with goofy projects, and Steve's always telling me to call my sister 'cause he's tired of listening to me talk -- seems to me that's called poetic justice since he's the talker in this relationship.
My hypomanic episodes last until the chemicals are back to normal, usually one to two weeks. If it doesn't get back to normal, I'll go into a depression that makes a black hole look welcoming. That's the catch with feeling great right now -- the fear that it will be followed by the abyss where I take to the bed, hide from the world, avoid the phone, become totally listless, and just want to forget the whole thing. In the past, I'm not proud to report that I've had two suicide attempts although I'm not sure how serious they were, or if I was screaming for help.
In addition, the wonderful and extremely competent psychiatrist I had in New York City for almost 12 years helped me learn how to recognize and attempt to control these episodes when they occurred. If I called him and explained my symptoms, he'd ask me what I thought I should do and would then educate me on taking care of my own illness. That has proved invaluable to me. I had horrible separation anxiety when I moved to Florida, and I've never found another shrink that could hold a candle to him.
When you read about or see people in the news who are bipolar and have committed some horrific crime, it probably means they were in a full-blown manic episode and not on medication. Even when I was in a full-blown episode (probably 4-5 times in the past 17 years), I never once experienced violent tendencies. The shrink said that if I'd never been violent in my regular state of mind, I'd probably never be violent when manic. Good to hear.
I have to stop rambling -- another symptom. I could go on forever but won't, thankfully.
So what is bipolar disorder? It is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in a person's mood, energy, and ability to function. It causes intense mood swings in two extreme directions: mania and depression.
Although no one is entirely sure what causes it, evidence suggests that it has to do with the chemicals in the brain. Changes in the levels of these chemicals can cause parts of the brain to become either overstimulated or understimulated, thus resulting in the two behavior extremes. When you are exhibiting symptoms of either mania or depression, you are considered to be in an episode and are not stable. During those times, I need to focus on getting the chemicals back in balance, generally with the help of a professional. The most important thing to keep in mind about bipolar disorder is that it is NOT something your loved one can control or fix on their own. It is passed on genetically in families, so there's nothing you can do to prevent it or to make it happen. My dad was bipolar but didn't know it until I was diagnosed and he learned about and identified with all the symptoms.
When I'm experiencing "hypomania" which is essentially a move toward a full-blown manic episode, I feel energetic, creative, extremely talkative, need very little sleep, and for me personally, I try to get my life organized because I think it makes me feel like I'm still in control. If I could I would choose to stay hypomanic forever, but it just doesn't work like that. If I didn't take Lithium and Paxil, I'd either become fully manic or so depressed that I wouldn't be able to function. Hypomania is in the middle and it's great. If I could bottle it and sell it, there would be no drug abuse 'cause everyone would feel this good.
The change in moods doesn't come about quickly for me at all, but rather slowly and it sneaks up on me. I notice that I'm suddenly spending two hours cleaning the kitchen, organizing drawers that have needed it for months, writing a lot (like now), and in my case, making lists constantly -- things I need to do, people I need to call, blog ideas, anything I can think of that would comprise a list. I start using copious amounts of Post-Its as reminders to myself, can't read much since I can't stick with anything for very long (a sort of short-term Attention Deficit Disorder), don't have to to eat or watch TV 'cause I'm much too busy with goofy projects, and Steve's always telling me to call my sister 'cause he's tired of listening to me talk -- seems to me that's called poetic justice since he's the talker in this relationship.
My hypomanic episodes last until the chemicals are back to normal, usually one to two weeks. If it doesn't get back to normal, I'll go into a depression that makes a black hole look welcoming. That's the catch with feeling great right now -- the fear that it will be followed by the abyss where I take to the bed, hide from the world, avoid the phone, become totally listless, and just want to forget the whole thing. In the past, I'm not proud to report that I've had two suicide attempts although I'm not sure how serious they were, or if I was screaming for help.
In addition, the wonderful and extremely competent psychiatrist I had in New York City for almost 12 years helped me learn how to recognize and attempt to control these episodes when they occurred. If I called him and explained my symptoms, he'd ask me what I thought I should do and would then educate me on taking care of my own illness. That has proved invaluable to me. I had horrible separation anxiety when I moved to Florida, and I've never found another shrink that could hold a candle to him.
When you read about or see people in the news who are bipolar and have committed some horrific crime, it probably means they were in a full-blown manic episode and not on medication. Even when I was in a full-blown episode (probably 4-5 times in the past 17 years), I never once experienced violent tendencies. The shrink said that if I'd never been violent in my regular state of mind, I'd probably never be violent when manic. Good to hear.
I have to stop rambling -- another symptom. I could go on forever but won't, thankfully.
A Relative Scores!
Chris is my only nephew, although I also have five grandnephews. He's my brother's only son and I think it's probably true (although I'm not 100 percent sure) that he's a good kid. He's a graduate of Bemidji State University (as is his fiancee, Katie) and he finally got the job he really wanted at Hearth & Home in the Twin Cities! When Mom told me this news over the phone I asked her, "What will his job title be?" She said he'll be their computer person. Chris -- when you get a business card on the job that says: Christopher Tack, Computer Person, please send me one. Just tell those people at Hearth & Home that your grandma said you're their Computer Person. Kudos and salvoes.
Ultra-Frightening Lawyer
Did any of you happen to see the O.J. hearing a few days ago when the judge agreed to let him out on bail? The news media pointed out Marcia Clark (the prosecutor at the OJ murder trial in '95) in the courtroom, and it's good that they DID 'cause she looked too scary for life! Her hair was peroxide blonde, her cheekbones seem to have leaped up an inch (hiss hiss). Her eyes were the only thing left of her former self!!! Nothing like a strong sense of identity I always say. Maybe she's sick of being recognized in public as the Lawyer Who Really Blew It.
Getting to Know You
Roly Poly Ole is napping on the futon but it's taken awhile for Beanie to trust this new alien thing. You just never know when a futon mattress will leap out at you, especially if you're Beanie. Now I'm on a quest for a mattress cover that will match the Southwestern/Western decor of this room. Can't live with a white mattress cover -- normally I just spill food on my boobs (a genetic flaw shared by all Tack women), but I've been known to klutz out on the couch too. Perhaps I could find a huge Southwestern-patterned bib for myself...
Leaning Tower of What???
A few days ago Steve and JJ went to the Leaning Tower of Pizza (yeah, it's a groaner) to pick up pizza and cannolis for dinner. While they were there, JJ was looking at a photograph on the wall of the actual Leaning Tower of Pisa, and with a dead serious look on his face said, "You know, Steve -- they could fix that tilt. They move huge buildings like that all the time now." Steve explained that the actual Leaning Tower is SUPPOSED to lean, and JJ said, "Ain't that some shit!" Oy vey.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Little Bunny Futon In Place!
JJ picked up the futon at his friend's house and he and Steve brought it up to our apartment. It's really nice -- solid oak frame, thick mattress and very comfortable. So now if you want to visit us, you know where you'll be sleeping! Yes, I know that if we were really decent hosts we'd give you our sleigh bed, but we're not so deal with it!
The mattress and current cover are white, so we're now searching the Web for a slightly darker color cover. My furry Roly Poly Ole already checked it out to retrieve her treats, but Beanie (Lena) is only interested in the frame architecture so far. She's always been the chief inspector of all new items around here, whereas Ole just gets right into the experience.
The mattress and current cover are white, so we're now searching the Web for a slightly darker color cover. My furry Roly Poly Ole already checked it out to retrieve her treats, but Beanie (Lena) is only interested in the frame architecture so far. She's always been the chief inspector of all new items around here, whereas Ole just gets right into the experience.
Little Bunny Futon
In case you're wondering, that title is a reflection on a song my sister, Slug, used to sing to her daughter, Jules -- Little Bunny Foo Foo, or something like that. It's about a little bunny trekking through a forest bopping other animals on the head -- sort of like what Slug did to me as a child every time she walked past me. Sibling abuse perhaps? And she continues to abuse me regularly to this day.
Our neighbor, JJ, knew we were thinking about buying a futon and told us about a friend of his who's moving and wanted to get rid of his. He was asking $150 for it, so today JJ and Steve went to look at it. Steve came back from seeing it and was very excited to tell me about it. Seems the guy is quite well-to-do and paid $800 originally for the futon. It's a Thomasville, solid oak and nearly new! We'll be getting it tomorrow with JJ's truck. Can't wait to see it! Now you can visit us and we won't make you sleep on the couch unless you do something abusive to me!
Our neighbor, JJ, knew we were thinking about buying a futon and told us about a friend of his who's moving and wanted to get rid of his. He was asking $150 for it, so today JJ and Steve went to look at it. Steve came back from seeing it and was very excited to tell me about it. Seems the guy is quite well-to-do and paid $800 originally for the futon. It's a Thomasville, solid oak and nearly new! We'll be getting it tomorrow with JJ's truck. Can't wait to see it! Now you can visit us and we won't make you sleep on the couch unless you do something abusive to me!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Dropped Call/Blog
I just got home from the hospital after an illustrious five-day stay for a blood clot(thrombosis)in my arm. The clot is right under the skin of my right arm near the site of the arm bend where I had the PICC line (an IV site that's left in the body while you receive outpatient antibiotics for a few weeks) and the doctors believe it was CAUSED by the PICC line which often damages veins. It was a choice of not getting rid of the infection or risking a blood clot on top of the infection. Take it from me, if you have to be in a hospital, make sure you're sick. I felt perfectly fine the whole time I was there but had to have my blood drawn twice daily due to medication I was given to dissolve the clot, and they also wanted to keep an eye on me to see if the clot moved to my brain or lung or whatever. It didn't.
I'm taking a very common blood thinner called Coumadin and I found out from my doctor that it's actually rat poison!!! What I'm dying to know now is who discovered this works on blood clots/phlebitis? Some Nazi? Some psychotic playing with rat poison?
The staff at the hospital were all terrific and I kept them laughing. I tried on several occasions to start a nurse singalong for bored patients but they weren't very cooperative. I even tried "There's no business like nurse business..." but they were completely uncooperative.
The only negative I'll bother to mention was the infamous hospital food. It really sucked. For dinner every night we got the ever-popular hospital specialty -- mystery meat! They'd smother it in some gloppy whitish gravy (looked like something that came out of my bad leg years ago) but it still tasted like unsalted cardboard. We also got fake mashed potatoes which tasted just like fake mashed potatoes, and occasionally powdered eggs scrambled for breakfast. Yum. I always ate the desserts, of course, but they were usually SaraLee so I KNEW they'd be good. Steve brought me tacos, Werther's, Midnite Milky Ways, granola bars and ever a huge vessel of home-brewed coffee. Why does hospital coffee always taste like tin?
Needless to say, it's great to be home. The JJ tale will continue shortly. Hang in there -- I am!!!
I'm taking a very common blood thinner called Coumadin and I found out from my doctor that it's actually rat poison!!! What I'm dying to know now is who discovered this works on blood clots/phlebitis? Some Nazi? Some psychotic playing with rat poison?
The staff at the hospital were all terrific and I kept them laughing. I tried on several occasions to start a nurse singalong for bored patients but they weren't very cooperative. I even tried "There's no business like nurse business..." but they were completely uncooperative.
The only negative I'll bother to mention was the infamous hospital food. It really sucked. For dinner every night we got the ever-popular hospital specialty -- mystery meat! They'd smother it in some gloppy whitish gravy (looked like something that came out of my bad leg years ago) but it still tasted like unsalted cardboard. We also got fake mashed potatoes which tasted just like fake mashed potatoes, and occasionally powdered eggs scrambled for breakfast. Yum. I always ate the desserts, of course, but they were usually SaraLee so I KNEW they'd be good. Steve brought me tacos, Werther's, Midnite Milky Ways, granola bars and ever a huge vessel of home-brewed coffee. Why does hospital coffee always taste like tin?
Needless to say, it's great to be home. The JJ tale will continue shortly. Hang in there -- I am!!!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Friends and Lovers
In the interest of spicing things up a bit blog-wise, I've decided it's time to write about my neighbor who'll we'll call JJ. All names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent.
JJ just turned 25 and hails from New Jersey. He's a carpenter by trade and learned from an uncle. For the past three years, however, JJ has been working as a DJ for a variety of strip clubs in this area. He gets paid by the hour and also gets a percentage of the "dancers" tips at the end of the night (usually around 2 a.m.) and it's all off the books. He makes really good money and often comes home with $300-400 on weekend nights, all cash. As always, however, there's a catch.
Almost all of the strippers are in their 20's, using a wide variety of drugs, they drink and smoke, and most have at least one child but are single. About every six months he sees the woman of his dreams -- beautiful, great body, nearly flawless according to first glance. Then he brings them home and that's where the fun begins.
JJ has lived in our apartment complex only a few months and the first "dancer" he got involved with here was the lovely Gina. She was pretty even without makeup, nice bod, and she had a son, Justin, who was a bright and seemingly well-adjusted. When she came over by herself to meet us, part of her introduction included that she was an exotic dancer (don't you love these job titles?) and that she'd been incested by her father and brother. Our relationship blossomed from there.
Gina informed us that her mother is a drug addict and alcoholic who lives in a mobile home that's painted purple. Her mother has several CD's (the music kind) hanging from a tree outside the mobile home for some spiritual reason or maybe to repel law enforcement personnel -- I can't recall. Gina is 21 and her mother is 39. Her mother's current boyfriend is a guy who was formerly Gina's boyfriend. Now I know I have your attention.
Gina's father lives somewhere in the Miami area where he's some big shot in industry. She rarely sees or talks to him and has no desire to do either. The father of Justin is also a drug addict who her mother recently had sex with while she was allegedly taking care of Justin. Her mother doesn't take care of Justin anymore.
In spite of all this, we both liked Gina -- she was funny, personable and even smart! While living with JJ she managed to get off all drugs except pot and stopped drinking. She expressed a sincere desire to get away from the club scene and build a better life for she and her son.
JJ was excited about being part of cleaning up Gina's life. He helped her clean up her legal problems and get back her driver's license and made a down payment on a car for her. She quit her job at the club and started looking for alternative employment. Sounds like things were going well, right?
JJ comes from a very, very Italian family and he was raised with their prejudices regarding race, color and creed. His parents are both excellent cooks as is JJ. Gina wanted to be everything to him and invited Steve and I over for dinner one night. She planned to prepare chicken parmesan and came to our apartment to borrow bread crumbs and a meat mallet. I told her how to pound the chicken and bread it. I knew she was in trouble when she asked me if you pound the chicken before or after you bread it. The chicken turned out decent in spite of her. She prepared a box of macaroni and cheese as a side dish but added the milk and butter without draining the noodles so it was a little moist to say the least. Like the good people we are, we praised her for her efforts and offered no criticism.
Then she made the fatal error of telling JJ that she'd had a sexual relationship with a black man. He came to Steve to talk to him about it and was obviously very upset. We both tried to encourage him to overlook her past and give her a chance, but doubted that he would be able to handle it. During that time Gina landed a job in the rental office of a large apartment complex. Soon after that, JJ found out that she got the job from yet another black man with whom she'd had an "acquaintance" in the past! He couldn't handle it and all hell broke loose.
They fought regularly with small bouts of peace in between, and eventually she moved to her own apartment. By now she was a mass of rage focused on JJ for trying to ruin her life and for making promises he wasn't keeping. She text messaged him constantly and promised to be everything he wanted if he'd take her back. He waivered, but her anger helped him stick to his guns -- in other words, he was afraid of her by this point.
When she went back to her own apartment, she left behind some of Justin's toys. By the time she got around to picking them up, JJ had taken up with another "flawless" woman. That woman (who we'll call Tish) was in his apartment when he agreed to return the toys to Gina so he went to the parking lot to await Gina's arrival. JJ called Steve when Gina arrived since she came at him with a tire iron. Steve held her back while she screamed obscenities that I didn't even know existed. During that time Justin sat in her car watching the whole scene. Gina threatened to come back to kill JJ and ruin his car so he decided he'd better call the police. The police discussed the situation with both JJ and Steve, and JJ had a restraining order put on Gina. He hasn't heard from her since. To be continued...
JJ just turned 25 and hails from New Jersey. He's a carpenter by trade and learned from an uncle. For the past three years, however, JJ has been working as a DJ for a variety of strip clubs in this area. He gets paid by the hour and also gets a percentage of the "dancers" tips at the end of the night (usually around 2 a.m.) and it's all off the books. He makes really good money and often comes home with $300-400 on weekend nights, all cash. As always, however, there's a catch.
Almost all of the strippers are in their 20's, using a wide variety of drugs, they drink and smoke, and most have at least one child but are single. About every six months he sees the woman of his dreams -- beautiful, great body, nearly flawless according to first glance. Then he brings them home and that's where the fun begins.
JJ has lived in our apartment complex only a few months and the first "dancer" he got involved with here was the lovely Gina. She was pretty even without makeup, nice bod, and she had a son, Justin, who was a bright and seemingly well-adjusted. When she came over by herself to meet us, part of her introduction included that she was an exotic dancer (don't you love these job titles?) and that she'd been incested by her father and brother. Our relationship blossomed from there.
Gina informed us that her mother is a drug addict and alcoholic who lives in a mobile home that's painted purple. Her mother has several CD's (the music kind) hanging from a tree outside the mobile home for some spiritual reason or maybe to repel law enforcement personnel -- I can't recall. Gina is 21 and her mother is 39. Her mother's current boyfriend is a guy who was formerly Gina's boyfriend. Now I know I have your attention.
Gina's father lives somewhere in the Miami area where he's some big shot in industry. She rarely sees or talks to him and has no desire to do either. The father of Justin is also a drug addict who her mother recently had sex with while she was allegedly taking care of Justin. Her mother doesn't take care of Justin anymore.
In spite of all this, we both liked Gina -- she was funny, personable and even smart! While living with JJ she managed to get off all drugs except pot and stopped drinking. She expressed a sincere desire to get away from the club scene and build a better life for she and her son.
JJ was excited about being part of cleaning up Gina's life. He helped her clean up her legal problems and get back her driver's license and made a down payment on a car for her. She quit her job at the club and started looking for alternative employment. Sounds like things were going well, right?
JJ comes from a very, very Italian family and he was raised with their prejudices regarding race, color and creed. His parents are both excellent cooks as is JJ. Gina wanted to be everything to him and invited Steve and I over for dinner one night. She planned to prepare chicken parmesan and came to our apartment to borrow bread crumbs and a meat mallet. I told her how to pound the chicken and bread it. I knew she was in trouble when she asked me if you pound the chicken before or after you bread it. The chicken turned out decent in spite of her. She prepared a box of macaroni and cheese as a side dish but added the milk and butter without draining the noodles so it was a little moist to say the least. Like the good people we are, we praised her for her efforts and offered no criticism.
Then she made the fatal error of telling JJ that she'd had a sexual relationship with a black man. He came to Steve to talk to him about it and was obviously very upset. We both tried to encourage him to overlook her past and give her a chance, but doubted that he would be able to handle it. During that time Gina landed a job in the rental office of a large apartment complex. Soon after that, JJ found out that she got the job from yet another black man with whom she'd had an "acquaintance" in the past! He couldn't handle it and all hell broke loose.
They fought regularly with small bouts of peace in between, and eventually she moved to her own apartment. By now she was a mass of rage focused on JJ for trying to ruin her life and for making promises he wasn't keeping. She text messaged him constantly and promised to be everything he wanted if he'd take her back. He waivered, but her anger helped him stick to his guns -- in other words, he was afraid of her by this point.
When she went back to her own apartment, she left behind some of Justin's toys. By the time she got around to picking them up, JJ had taken up with another "flawless" woman. That woman (who we'll call Tish) was in his apartment when he agreed to return the toys to Gina so he went to the parking lot to await Gina's arrival. JJ called Steve when Gina arrived since she came at him with a tire iron. Steve held her back while she screamed obscenities that I didn't even know existed. During that time Justin sat in her car watching the whole scene. Gina threatened to come back to kill JJ and ruin his car so he decided he'd better call the police. The police discussed the situation with both JJ and Steve, and JJ had a restraining order put on Gina. He hasn't heard from her since. To be continued...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Grocery Shopping Hell
There's a very good reason that I prefer to do the grocery shopping by myself. When Steve goes with me, you'd think you were on Supermarket Sweepstakes and have exactly 15 minutes to fill up the cart! I like to enjoy the experience and read labels, compare prices, check to see if I have a coupon, etc. and I almost always bring a list so I don't forget anything. Steve's in the store for five minutes and his arms are already full of "stuff" he believes we need. I'm in the second aisle doing things in a very orderly fashion and he's already at the other end of the store ready to check out! Most times he's already picked up stuff I also have in the cart by that time and we have to put some of them back on the shelf. And that's nothing compared to what happens when we get home!
Since we live on the second floor of our apartment building (which does not have an elevator) all the bags have to be lugged upstairs. Since I have trouble with steps unless I can use both arms, he has to bring most of it upstairs, which he insists is not a problem, that is, except for days like today when it's about 300 degrees outside with a humidity of 700 percent. That's just the beginning.
I start taking things out of bags and placing items that need to be refrigerated on one side of the counter, and the rest I put away. I am absolutely not permitted to put anything in the freezer or refrigerator since I obviously don't do it properly. Thus starts Steve's grocery-related anxiety attack. He starts moving everything in the fridge while threatening to throw out anything that's been in there for more than a few days, and all the while curses like a trucker. Now I've finally learned to finish my part of this chore and get out of the kitchen until he's done having his fit. If I stay in the kitchen, I'll start getting upset with him for getting so upset, and I've learned that it just doesn't work. Finally when it's all done and everything is in its' proper place, he has to go and lie down 'cause he's so stressed out! What fun!
Since we live on the second floor of our apartment building (which does not have an elevator) all the bags have to be lugged upstairs. Since I have trouble with steps unless I can use both arms, he has to bring most of it upstairs, which he insists is not a problem, that is, except for days like today when it's about 300 degrees outside with a humidity of 700 percent. That's just the beginning.
I start taking things out of bags and placing items that need to be refrigerated on one side of the counter, and the rest I put away. I am absolutely not permitted to put anything in the freezer or refrigerator since I obviously don't do it properly. Thus starts Steve's grocery-related anxiety attack. He starts moving everything in the fridge while threatening to throw out anything that's been in there for more than a few days, and all the while curses like a trucker. Now I've finally learned to finish my part of this chore and get out of the kitchen until he's done having his fit. If I stay in the kitchen, I'll start getting upset with him for getting so upset, and I've learned that it just doesn't work. Finally when it's all done and everything is in its' proper place, he has to go and lie down 'cause he's so stressed out! What fun!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Six Years Ago Today
Steve and I were sitting on a public bench on Ditmars Blvd. and 31st in Queens, NY, when I noticed a lot of people gathering outside the pizzeria across the street listening to the radio speakers outside the restaurant. Being ever curious, I crossed the street and noticed a young blondish girl by herself just sobbing. I asked her what was going on and she told me, between the tears, that a plane had flown right into one of the World Trade Centers. No one at that time thought about terrorism, but rather that it might have been a horrible mistake or error with the plane. We could see the black smoke over Manhattan and then got the report of the second building being hit. It was like a Fellini film -- too much for the senses to grasp all at once. People were walking around like zombies the whole day in shock that we could be so vulnerable.
Every day after that, new photos of missing persons, prayers, flowers, candles, poems, etc. appeared on the wall by the subway steps. It was like someone thrust a gigantic hand into your body and left a huge hole that would never be filled again. Too sad...
Every day after that, new photos of missing persons, prayers, flowers, candles, poems, etc. appeared on the wall by the subway steps. It was like someone thrust a gigantic hand into your body and left a huge hole that would never be filled again. Too sad...
Sunday, September 9, 2007
So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehn
And so we bid goodbye to the legendary Pavarotti. Reading about him in the newspaper, I learned that his mother wanted him to be an accountant. Good lesson in why we shouldn't listen to our parents. He taught school and also sold insurance before becoming an opera singer. If he had come to my door singing about the insurance, I would've bought it from him.
They played his version of "Nessun Dorma" when they were carrying his body out of the church, and my favorite singer Andrea Bocelli of "Time To Say Goodbye" fame was in attendance. What a gift he had! Makes you wonder how many people out there have a gift like this that is never discovered. Wonder what mine is?
They played his version of "Nessun Dorma" when they were carrying his body out of the church, and my favorite singer Andrea Bocelli of "Time To Say Goodbye" fame was in attendance. What a gift he had! Makes you wonder how many people out there have a gift like this that is never discovered. Wonder what mine is?
In Support of Germs
I saw a bumper sticker today that read: Support bacteria -- they're the only culture some people get!
Sad but true.
Sad but true.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Extreme Ghost Stories & Steve
A new show called "Extreme Ghost Stories" premiered on TV tonight and it got Steve going on his soapbox about ghosts, aliens, and the like. I personally have only spoken to one person in my life who honestly believes she saw a ghost. I have to add that it was during a very stressful event in her life when the spiritual feelings are in high gear. I have never seen or heard a ghost myself and don't really expect to see one in the near future.
Aliens, thought not the green kind with big heads and huge eyes, could exist, but if they're smart they'll just continue observing us and the mistakes we make continuously to learn from us. If they are truly smarter than us, they wouldn't want to come here anyway. I don't even know if they're in the form of people, animals or insects, although if they're insects, I hope they wait to come to earth until after I'm dead.
I have experienced three hallucinations in my life during psychiatric episodes and I am too familiar with how real these situations were to me. I actually argued with professionals who had to convince me that they were actually hallucatinations. There are so many undiagnosed mentally ill folks out there who should be on medication that I'd never believe in anyone else's ghosts.
Aliens, thought not the green kind with big heads and huge eyes, could exist, but if they're smart they'll just continue observing us and the mistakes we make continuously to learn from us. If they are truly smarter than us, they wouldn't want to come here anyway. I don't even know if they're in the form of people, animals or insects, although if they're insects, I hope they wait to come to earth until after I'm dead.
I have experienced three hallucinations in my life during psychiatric episodes and I am too familiar with how real these situations were to me. I actually argued with professionals who had to convince me that they were actually hallucatinations. There are so many undiagnosed mentally ill folks out there who should be on medication that I'd never believe in anyone else's ghosts.
Where have you gone?
Steve Fossett still hasn't been found. Seems kind of odd that someone with all that money could just "poof" over Nevada like that with a plane. Tomorrow will be day six for him -- wonder if he has any edibles or first aid stuff within his grasp...if it had been Slug in that plane, she'd be gone by now if she couldn't find a Mountain Dew! This entire story justifies my need to always have chocolate on me when I fly.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Who Needs Stimulation?
This is an excerpt from an article on MSNBC today:
Caffeine content of well-known national brands include: Coca-Cola (33.9 milligrams), Diet Pepsi (36.7 milligrams), Pepsi (38.9 milligrams), Dr Pepper (42.6 milligrams), Diet Dr Pepper (44.1 milligrams), Diet Coke (46.3 milligrams), Mountain Dew (54.8 milligrams) and Diet Mountain Dew (55.2 milligrams).
By comparison, according to the American Beverage Association Web site, a 12-ounce cup of coffee has between 156 and 288 milligrams of caffeine, and the same amount of tea has 30-135 milligrams.
Caffeine content of well-known national brands include: Coca-Cola (33.9 milligrams), Diet Pepsi (36.7 milligrams), Pepsi (38.9 milligrams), Dr Pepper (42.6 milligrams), Diet Dr Pepper (44.1 milligrams), Diet Coke (46.3 milligrams), Mountain Dew (54.8 milligrams) and Diet Mountain Dew (55.2 milligrams).
By comparison, according to the American Beverage Association Web site, a 12-ounce cup of coffee has between 156 and 288 milligrams of caffeine, and the same amount of tea has 30-135 milligrams.
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