Friday, February 27, 2009

Rare Danger at Your Local Beauty Salon

There is an abundance of news and tons of discovered findings that leave us hanging with the question: why hasn’t anyone told us sooner? Of course, the answer always remains, “We didn’t know until now.” Many years ago, I was afraid to turn on the news, because I didn’t want to “catch” whatever they were speaking about if it had to do with medical situations. If Madelene turned on the Discovery Channel and they were talking about rare illnesses, I would go get a check up because I would develop symptoms of whatever it was they were speaking of. God forbid someone described in full detail of their panic attack symptoms - I would then get it immediately upon hearing it. I turned into a full-fledged hypochondriac. It was at the age of twenty when I first started seeing alarming signs of it.

As I grew older and more confident in myself, the hypochondria seemed to have subsided somewhat. With extensive therapy as well as cognitive behavioral techniques, I knew that this was all in my head and that I have been torturing myself for many years with the the 'I may have what they have' syndrome. Yes, I made up a syndrome.

Now I have 'healthy doses' of little scares here and there. Take for instance today. This morning I’m working from home, so sometimes I’ll have my television on for a bit while drinking my coffee before starting my day. I heard something very disturbing. On The Doctors, they said that it is possible for people to get strokes while getting their hair washed at the salon. It’s the process of tilting your head back, preventing needed blood flow to get to your brain. 

In 1993, The New York Times reported, “The position commonly used for shampooing at beauty salons, with the neck tipped far backward over the edge of a sink, can diminish the blood supply to the brain, sometimes precipitating strokes in older people, a new survey has found.  In today's issue of The Journal of the American Medical Association, Dr. Michael Weintraub described five women between the ages of 54 and 84 who developed serious neurological symptoms requiring hospitalization after shampoos at beauty parlors.
The patients suffered from a variety of complaints attributable to poor blood flow in arteries leading through the neck to the back of the brain, including severe dizziness, imbalance and facial numbness. Four out of five suffered strokes leading to permanent neurologic damage.” ---read more here.


So now, you can see my quandary, as I sit here in desperation to get my haircut. Usually, my sister comes over and does it for me. She’s excellent at it and I can’t find a better beautician than her. So, today, I will be calling my sister to come over to do my hair. I will wash my hair in my own shower. I guess this is a normal type of fear, nevertheless, it still affected me enough to plan on never again stepping foot into a beauty salon, unless of course I need a manicure or pedicure. I won’t speak about the dangers of that on this post today. That’s a whole other story waiting to rear its ugly head.

Why hasn’t anyone told us sooner?

Two Can Sam Can't Hang...

It’s 4am and I have insomnia. I went to sleep at midnight but woke up at 4am bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I believe it was because I fell off the wagon last night. I indulged in 2 beers, Michelobe Ultra Light or whatever. In other words: the weakest beer in the world. I thought I was safe. I passed my 90 days and decided, hey I’m going to have a couple of beers with dinner. I thought doing it “light” would help, especially since my tolerance was at an all time low.

The verdict: I HATE DRINKING! Every sip was uneventful and the buzz was more like a zombie-like ‘bout to hit coma stage. It got me tired and nothing else. But, I did find out one thing: I’m allergic to alcohol. This is what I believe, anyway. Anytime I have more than one drink, I can never sleep a full night. And I’ve been sober for over 90 days now and each night slept like a baby. I can definitely say without a doubt that I do not enjoy the effects of alcohol any longer. I’m actually glad I fell off the wagon a tad, to discover that I wasn’t missing much.

(I know my friends are going to laugh their butts off when they hear, “two beers”...they’re going to call me, “Two Can Sam”.) Go ahead...mock away!

I’ve decided to stay sober for life! Sometimes, things happen for wonderful reasons!

Goodnight, or...good morning!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Things Aren’t Always What They Seem

Back and forth, you hear what’s good and what’s bad for you, but you never get a consistent answer for a very long period of time. Then you have misleading news teams that are borderline “TMZ”, where they lure you in with a shocking statement, and then when the story unfolds, it’s something entirely different.

“See the link between too much calcium and the risks of cancer.”

Quickly I’m fumbling for my BlackBerry like a dimwit and typing into Twitter, “Now calcium’s bad for us?” I didn’t even get the full story yet before typing that, until later on when they did the story, it was quite different. They explained that you couldn’t get enough calcium; that calcium was beneficial for you and reduces the risk of cancer. At least with certain news on the internet, they just tell it as it is, whereas on the television networks, they are so concerned about ratings, they’ll actually keep their audience stuck watching infomercials with some dorky guy demonstrating how the Shamwow works.

Anything to lure you in.

Between chimpanzee attacks, the poor to now rich lady with the litter of kids, to the world’s biggest stingrays found - I’m bored. I’m bored with current events. And then, when something piques my interest, it’s something that I highly disagree with, like melting glaciers in the Antarctica. The lure: “Startling New Glacier Update!” Of course I tap in, as well as all the left-wingin’ liberals with their boxer shorts passing up their second sphincter - the article reads: “By the end of the century, the accelerated melting could cause sea levels to climb by 3 to 5 feet — levels substantially higher than predicted by a major scientific group just two years ago.” Do I have to remind people that this has happened hundreds of years ago, plus the fact that even if it were to climb as much as 3-5 feet, it’s a high tide folks?   Nothing to see here.  Move on...  This is only going to alarm those who obsess over global warming and “the sky’s falling” syndrome. Disagree with me if you want, but I’m not concerned. I recycle as much as I can, as well as utilize blowup dolls for the HOV lanes. It’s a free country...so far.

It’s a free country, but thank the good Lord I don’t make more than $250k per year, otherwise I’d be taxed for earning a wonderful living.   See, it’s ok to tax the rich in order to give to the poor, but shouldn’t the people that have the wealth, decide for themselves whether or not to give to charity? In other words, our “free country” is literally turning into communism before our very eyes.

I digress.  I’m only putting out my very opinionated views on how I see the world, media and so forth.   My views are not written in stone, because like any other news source, it’s not all that reliable.   It’s just the lure you in.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Sunday Fun!

What we did on a snowy Sunday afternoon...

Sunday Fun from Debra Pasquella on Vimeo.
The original post that had a Youtube video of this version was denied due to copyright infringement of using this particular song, so I had to use Vimbeo and delete the previous post. Everyone and their mother can upload songs from their favorite artists on Youtube - but mine was first muted and then rejected because of the song. It's not like I'm making money out of this deal - I just like to practice my editing. What a bummer!

Friday, February 20, 2009

Indian Point Java

Wonderful news. Indian Point is leaking radioactive water this morning, again. “AGAIN” it says, with no further information, other than an eight inch pipe that will be repaired.  The newspaper that I get, which is only the weekender, seems to lack information and is poorly written. I wanted to get the local paper so I could be on top of things in the community and whatnot, but this is ridiculous. Some stories are lacking the most important factors, while stating comments from people that were never said. Isn’t that libelous to some degree? There are so many things you can do as far as publishing, and yet have it be “legal” due to loopholes. Even with Youtube, if you consent to being filmed, that person is able to publish the footage on Youtube without your permission, because by 'smiling for the camera', that’s basically your signature for approval.    You can even film your neighbor on his or her own property, as long as you are still on your side of the fence or even an inch away from their sidewalk. How creepy is that? (Next video to come will be my neighbors!)

In other uneventful news this morning, Madelene woke up to the Blackberry syndrome. “Honey?” I asked, to see if she was awake.
“Huh? What?” she says, all groggy-like.
“Who and what is the Daisy Dixie Show?”
“I dunno.” she says, as she throws the covers on top of her head.

As I’m click-clacking away on my Blackberry in bed, I found out it wasn’t a show contacting me - it was some Youtuber making a comment on one of my videos. Needless to say, it wasn’t something I should have woken Madelene up for. I went to get up to make coffee and breakfast, slip on my huge flip-flops that you all told me to steer clear from, when I hear, “I know you’re not wearing those tacos first thing in the morning.”
“Tacos?” I said, confused as whether or not I stepped in some sort of Mexican meat filled tortilla. Then she says in her Spanish accent, “Noooo, I said ‘stacoz’.” (Which means high heels.) They aren’t high heels for one - they’re platform flip-flops.    And yes, I guess in the Spanish culture, they refer to high heels as, “tacos”.   And they spell it that way - “tacos”, but it sounds like, “stacoz”.
Going bananas: As Madelene rushes off to work, she notices there is only one banana in the fruit bowl. (And no, not the old one that you saw in the photo a few days ago, we got a new batch after that.) She says, “Are you going to eat that?” Of course I’m not going to say yes, because I know she wants it. I said, “No...take it.” She then gets all polite on me and says, “Oh no, they probably have stuff at work, never mind.”
“TAKE IT.” I demanded.
“No, I’m fine, thanks though.”
As she scrambling for the door and makes her way out, I jump out of my apartment on top of three floors screaming, “If you don’t take this banana I’m going to throw it atchya' and embarrass you!” My neighbor pipes in, “You better take it.” She walks back up the stairs and grabs the goddam banana.

So all I have to worry about today are deadlines and my fate with this Indian Point nuclear reactor leaking in my backyard. Hope you all have a good weekend and hope whoever is reading this lives in CA. At least we’re the ones getting the earthquakes now. Enjoy your coffee, your water is safe.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Deb & Madelene's Bi-Polar Moments

Warning: This video may cause an urge nausea, headaches and dizziness. Ask your doctor before clicking on play.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Phallic Philosophies

This morning when I woke up, I went to go make coffee and breakfast for Madelene, when something on the table stopped me in my tracks: two apples and one banana placed so perfectly together, that I seriously thought it was a joke on Madelene’s part. I chuckled and shuffled my tired self into the kitchen to prepare an egg white omelet for my sweetie. Even while I was cooking, I couldn’t get the image out of my head, which led into other thoughts that irritated me a bit. All the assumptions and stereotypes of “why” I “turned” gay from so many people in my life, as well as professional doctors.

“It must be sort of a deep psychological reason for why you’re gay.”  I’ve heard this line so many times from so many different types of social workers, psychologists as well as psychiatrists; a select few mind you, nonetheless, I’ve heard it all too many times, and each with the same tone. I especially remember one psychologist who was a lesbian herself, that indicated that the reason why I was a lesbian was because I must have been molested as a child. “Well I’ve been molested and I’ve always kept it repressed.” she said, hoping to relate to me so that I would become vulnerable and tell her ‘my story’, “It’s okay to be open about it with me - I’m not only your therapist, I’m your friend, Deb.”   Each word held an odd sense of anticipation has she waited for “the big story” to come flying out of my mouth and onto her notepad of psychotic patient information. It was almost like being interrogated under a bright light, giving false information just to get it over with; a plea bargain if you will. “Ok ok ok!” But I sat there with a blank look wondering why someone on my team would even assume such a thing for all homosexuals. Straight or gay, if someone is molested as a child, it doesn’t mean that it changes their sexual preferences. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t. If someone was abused as a child, they “may” pick a mate with similar qualities because they feel they don’t deserve better. I don’t know. Each person in their past + present are so different from one another that we just can’t place a huge label on everyone’s forehead...can we?

Fast forward to the year 2008, I gave my now psychiatrist who is a male, the good news that I was getting married in October. I told him that we originally planned to have the ceremony at Race Point’s Lighthouse in Provincetown, MA or we may just hold a private ceremony in the back of our favorite restaurant, which is right on the beach.

“If you do have the ceremony at the lighthouse, do you think that it may be symbolic?”
“To what?” I asked, not realizing where he was taking this.
“Well, think of a lighthouse for a moment.”
“Okay...” I sat there and for some reason, it just didn’t click.
“It’s a phallic symbol. Do you think you may be missing something or lacking something within the relationship, therefore placing a phallic symbol as a lighthouse to complete the void?”
“A void?”

Maybe he’s onto something. At least he didn’t make asinine assumptions of a traumatic and abusive childhood: he may have just guessed I needed a little phallic something or other in my life to spice it up. I don’t mind when people go that route - I mind when people are placing all homosexuals into the “abusive corner”.

Then as I was thinking about it, Madelene and I have been vacationing in Provincetown for more than ten years. We generally stay at the same place at the Historical Crowne Pointe’s bed and breakfast, and nearby stands strong and tall, the Provincetown Monument. If you’re lost, they tell you to look up, as the monument will bring you back home. It’s the skyscraper of the smallest town on Cape Cod, a symbol for the proud gay men and the curiosity of all lesbians wondering why a huge phallic symbol was placed smack dab in the most gayest of all meccas.  

It shows its history, it’s stamina for making it through the brutal winters, and most of all, it shows all shrinks across the board that lesbians are still visiting this monument, be it phallic or not...but look at the picture for yourself. We’re brave. We’re strong. We’ve got our own in a drawer somewhere.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Imbued II

It all started with the personal ad, “GWF seeking SGF for friendship or more.” You responded. I was only twenty years old, you were thirty. I lied about my age and said I was twenty-one so you knew I could go out and have a few drinks with you, because I had my fake id. At the first sight of you, I honestly thought you would never go for me. “She’s too good for me - this date is so over already!” I kept saying that in my head as you kept luring me in with that beautiful smile of yours.

The unspoken rule about dating is: you never call the next day. You called me 10am the next morning. I remember it clearly, as I was lying in my retro waterbed nursing a hangover, letting my answering machine pick up my morning phone calls. You said you had so much fun and would like to see me again. I couldn’t believe you were saying all of this on my answering machine! I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. I seriously thought I would never hear back from you.

We started going out every single weekend. Each time being with you was totally different from the last. It only got better. You were my absolute best friend, which is the foundation of what our relationship is based upon. I trust you 110%, if that’s possible. I love you more than words can even muster up. You’re the only one who knows how to make me laugh when I am in the funkiest of all funks. I love you for that.

Remember our romantic getaways in the Hamptons? We spent the entire time on the beach talking, having picnics and finding photographers for our future wedding. We actually chased a famous photographer down to get his info. There are so many vacations we spent together that make me smile every time I think of them. Even at home, it feels like a vacation. Home is where “you” are. This place wouldn’t be a home without you.

On our wedding day, we said our vows. We both had tears in our eyes. I never meant anything so much as I did that day; saying those vows I would only say to one person. I’ve written many things to you on my blog and through handwritten letters, and with each one, I still mean every word I have ever written, which is why I am going to copy and paste a post I had written you a while back that means so much to me...
"Imbued"

Locked into your zone; I’m mesmerized with your eyes, your mouth; the way the words flow out of your beautiful lips. Your eloquence puts me in a calm state of mind, luring me in every day, every hour. Your voice soothes me and your stories make me feel alive. Your ability to share absolutely everything with me without any reservations makes me believe this is real, this is what everyone desires.

It’s the way you look at me when you have something on your mind. It’s the way your smile warms my heart. I can read you; I can feel you...I know you. I feel safe with you. You encourage me and most of all, you inspire me. You make me believe I can do anything—even if it seems impossible. Your amazing ability to reach me on every level is astounding. You’re amazing. Every day I learn something new about you. Each day I wonder what you’re thinking, what you’re doing, how you’re feeling and excited to see and hear from you. The anticipation is overwhelming.

Completely overtaken by your beauty, you seem to captivate me with your intelligence and deeper level of understanding. You’re the whole package. You’re entire being is peaceful, tranquil and yet exciting. The desire to be next to you is strong. The desire to understand how someone can be so perfect is unfathomable. I can only thank God for sending me you. I consider myself to be very lucky, as sometimes I feel bad that you got the short end of the stick. You then reassure me that “I’m okay”, and you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to.

I trust you. I never trusted anyone before. I trust you with my secrets, my dreams and myself. I’m not afraid to be ‘me’ when I’m around you. You accept me with all my flaws. My humor doesn’t scare you and my sarcasm doesn’t send you running away from me. You laugh at my dumb jokes, and make me feel important. I’m always priority. You drop everything for me—and I appreciate that. You can have a million important tasks in front of you, and yet choose to focus on me and my frivolous chatter.

You inspire me. I love all your new ideas and the way you view the world. The glass is always half full. Your positive energy releases upon me and makes me feel whole again. Your spirit is alive with laughter, kindness and love—all the ingredients for ‘the perfect one’. I can’t find a flaw in you. I tried. What is it that makes you so perfect? Why haven’t I found you sooner?

Happy Valentine's Day sweetheart. I love you so much! I'm the luckiest woman alive!

A video I posted last year on Valentine's Day just to remind you of such wonderful memories!

Friday, February 13, 2009

I'm Out...

There are many things I like and dislike, not as though you really care, but we all have our little tweaks about stuff. I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt when it comes to people, but sometimes it’s just too much to say, “Alright alright, whatever, that’s the way you are...” and so on, and so on. I cannot tolerate catty women. (And some men for that matter.) And not that I mind a little gossip here and there, but it’s when people talk nicely in front of you and then once you leave, you are the brunt of their “juicy gossip”.  Once they’re in a huddle, and another decides to leave----they have just found a new person to “talk” about.

Here’s the vicious cycle, and I believe this is derived from an old Jewish law---correct me if I’m wrong please.

Gossip kills three people: the speaker, the listener and the person being spoken of. For one, you never want to be the speaker. The speaker gets the bad reputation for not being trusted. The poor listener is doomed with the temptation to remark what they “feel” is true and then possibly pipe in with other juicy details of what the speaker is saying... And person three is well, screwed. They can’t defend themselves. At that point, they’re already judged and that’s that.

Have you ever felt a whirlwind of negative energy either between you and a group of friends or even your own family sometimes? There’s “something” brewing, but you just don’t know what it is. And then, when you do find out about the “chatter” that’s been going on---do you call them out on it or let it go? Do you write them off or do you confront them with the knowledge you now have? A lot of people will lie their way out of it. Some will come clean and explain the situation in a lighter toned manner, but can you ever truly trust these people again?

Did you ever hear that saying, “Oh if you tell “Lydia” that, you might as well tell the world!”

I have a “group of hens” who have been spending too much time talking about me lately, hence my post. I will say this... They have some of the story correct, however their details and elaborated opinions make the story twice of what it actually is. And if any of these women are reading this right now, remember, those people you huddled up with in a circle who “talk” about Deb, are the very same people who huddled up about “you” at one point. It has happened to every one of these girls and yet, I remain quiet and let it unfold before my eyes, as they sit amongst one another laughing and having a good time, yet having that little twinge of curiosity if it was ever them discussed in the limelight of gossip.

Eat, drink & be merry while enjoying each other's company. Let them have fun playing telephone.   I’m out.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Save the Earth!

Either I didn’t have enough coffee or maybe I had way too much. I feel too opinionated and possibly judgmental this morning. A lot of thoughts are flying in and out of my head coming out the wrong way, or possibly, the way I usually think them to be.

There are certain people that I detest. I’ll use the word detest, for my mind wants to say hate - but, I don’t hate anything or anyone, so, let’s stick with “detest”.

Liberal lesbians (or heteros) who shove their political views in your face and never shut up about recycling. I do my share of recycling every day of my life, but when it comes to inconveniencing myself at the grocery store to purchase small pathetic burlap bags that are unable to hold enough items for me, that’s when I say, “Do it yourself or come up with a better idea.” These types of people will also rattle off about how it’s better not to drink out of bottled water. Some people don’t have any other option because their water at home is like running diarrhea. If the companies are not providing glass bottles, then suck it up...in plastic. These same people are also seen using plastic bottles and use the excuse, “Well I didn’t have a glass bottle to use at home”, or “I forgot my thermos.” These “green” people complain about the emissions in the air, while driving SUVs, too.

MSNBC stated: "The EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) suggested and the Supreme Court is taking action to follow through that livestock that emit methane gas be taxed due to the effect on the environment. This means belching and flatulence…burping and farting!   So for cows and pigs being what they are, their owners get taxed. It would be $175 (£119) for each dairy cow; $87.50 per head of beef cattle and $20 for each hog. Who measured the emissions?

MSNBC reports, 'Farmers so far are turning their noses up at the notion, which they contend is a possible consequence of an Environmental Protection Agency report after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 2007 that greenhouse gases amount to air pollution. Livestock emit methane, a key greenhouse gas tied to global warming.' The farm groups say the fee would apply to farms with livestock operations that emit more than 100 tons of carbon emissions in a year and fall under federal Clean Air Act  provisions.”

Moral of this pathetic post is: eat healthy and pay the consequences, because soon enough, it may just be us that will be taxed for passing gas.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Do You Have a Creative Outlet?

I believe the ability to create and express yourself in an artistic way is a product of your past or present, whether it be from extreme emotions such as happiness and sadness. There are some people I know who “used to” draw and paint beautiful things when they were younger, while going through tumultuous times. Now, while being ‘all grown up’, they feel it’s childish to draw again or be creative in any medium they choose. “Oh I can’t draw like that anymore” or “I don’t have it in me any longer.” Although the stressful circumstances have now changed to different types of stressors in their lives, why cut off the creative flow? Why not try it again? Why do some people cut off their creative side as they approach a certain age?

“I would be so horrible at that!” I hear that all the time. Why don’t you try? Why not give it a whirl and if you don’t enjoy it, then don’t do it. You don’t have to show the world your poetry, art work, photography, or whatever it is you have a passion for---do it for yourself. I totally believe that every person has a gift, whether it’s cooking, (which is a form of art), writing, taking pictures, dancing, playing an instrument or anything really. But, if they choose not to use it...they lose it.

When I was younger, I used to do pen & ink drawings, paint and do caricatures. Then I started to play guitar, I dabbled in photography, created lyrics and composed music, and then I started writing.    If one interest faded, another one was replaced. I never let myself go without an outlet.  It’s the only thing that keeps me somewhat sane.

Do you have an outlet you never told anybody about that you feel you’re “not good” at, but you still have a passion for?

Friday, February 06, 2009

End of Times

While playing with my iMovie, I put together some clips along with music and added actual lyrics from the song translated as well as biblical scriptures, relating to Revelations. I'll lighten it up tomorrow. Bear with me today.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Sancochow

I can’t tell you how lucky I am to have such great friends and readers who have given me such nice birthday wishes through this blog, Facebook, Myspace, as well as through personal emails. Thank you! I also want to thank my beautiful wife who has truly shown me what unconditional love really is.

The night before my big day, I had fallen so hard on the floor - mostly on my left side. See, the thing is, when I’m home putzing around, I wear these chunky, platform flip flops because, well, I’m really short and I can’t reach things without them. While walking down the hallway into my bedroom to get dressed, I tripped over one of my flip flops and went tumbling down right onto my entire left side. Madelene was off that day and said all she saw were two feet lying horizontally outside of the door’s dwelling, and two flip flops flung off lying in different directions. This was the first time since I was a little kid that I cried over a slip and fall. It hurt that bad. I thought I had broken my leg, but luckily I didn’t.

Weird thing about this was, while crying over the pain, I started realizing that the pain was subsiding a little, but I was still crying. I must have sat on the floor for twenty minutes crying over other things besides the pain. It somehow must have released some sort of emotional box way deep down inside that tripped and fell open.

The rest of the day was fine. I was ok, but had some swelling on my entire left leg as well as my hip. (Big sign of aging right there!) When February 4th arrived, my birthday, I woke up to intense jabs of pain on my left side. I was laid up the entire day crying over the pain as well as emotional junk and, well, turning 35 and all. It was such a horrible combination, which made for a somber birthday. I had to take some pain killers and slept most of the day. But it wasn't all that bad! Madelene made me a wonderful breakfast, spent time with me and then picked up dinner from my favorite restaurant along with my favorite type of cake + ice cream to boot. (This will definitely cushion my wounded hip.) She even put candles on it and sang happy birthday. She knew I was a bit down and totally cheered me up, drew me a bubble bath with Epson salt, (another red flag of aging), lit up some scented candles, put on some soothing music and let me soak until I got all sancochow. (Soggy.)

So thanks to all my friends and readers who have cheered me up with your birthday wishes... And thank you, Madelene for making my life so wonderful!  I love you.

Now here's what my day looked like, and the finale is Madelene trying out for American Idol.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Time To Live...

Even though I think the age of 30-40 is still fairly “young”, there are so many things I feel I have not done yet. I feel like I haven’t travelled as much as I should have. There are so many adventures that I have simply passed up on.  The reason: fear. Fear has always held me back in some way or another, whether in relationships, traveling, pursuing my dream goals or even to just “say no” to the things I really didn't want in my life, just because I “felt bad”. I was always brought up to be polite, saying “please” and “thank you”. I say sorry way too much when there is no need for it. If someone bumps into me, I involuntarily let out an “Oh, I’m sorry.”

All my life I have gone out of my way, above and beyond to make others happy, not because I feel guilty or “it’s the right thing to do” - but because I really want to. I’ve been taken advantage of a lot in my lifetime and mocked for the things I have done. I’ve been judged and criticized for my anxiety and depression when I was drowning in it. I was called, “crazy” or “psycho”, simply because I would get panic attacks or bail out at the last minute to an invite because I was feeling down. The thing that hurts the most is, the most important people in my life, the ones that I love the most mock me and treat me like complete dirt sometimes. (A select few mind you.) But, in the bigger scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter, right? I have learned to deal with these criticisms and tried to look deeper into other people’s motives.

My biggest accomplishment made was once bashed by someone special in my life. I had published a book back in 2005, to only see it get ripped and torn into little pieces into the garbage can, all because this person went into a jealous rage. In other parts of the world, my book has helped many people struggling with forgiveness, relationships and being comfortable with their religion and lifestyle. Their letters and emails of appreciation from my readers brought tears to my eyes; as well as the one book that was shredded into smithereens inside the garbage can. Both two different emotions of course.

This year has been a wonderful journey for me. I married my best friend and we are enjoying our life together with friends and family. Although my family couldn’t make it to my wedding, because it was six hours away, they accepted the fact that my marriage was with another woman, and finally legalized in the state of Massachusetts and recognized here in New York. My mom presented me with my grandmother’s wedding ring as a gift and wished me well with her “5th daughter”, Madelene. My closest friends and my new mother-in-law were all there to celebrate the best day of my life. It was a bittersweet moment, because I was crying over the fact that I had no family members there, yet I was so happy to be exchanging wedding vows to the person who means the most to me. I totally understand that the drive out to Cape Cod is exhausting, but it still tugged at my heart nonetheless. I dwelled over the fact that my entire family drove out 13+ hours to Ohio to see my cousin get married, and yet they couldn’t try for me. (Not even a card.)  All of these thoughts went through my head: “Is it because it’s a gay wedding? Do they not approve, when all along said they did? Do they think my relationship is invalid just because it’s homosexual?" 

I’ve learned to toss these negative thought patterns aside and realize that my wedding was an unconventional thing. It was on a private beach with about ten people there. Six more would have been better, but I don’t think my family could have handled that, especially my parents. Totally understandable.  It still saddens me to think that they didn’t get to see me get married. I did hope that I would have received a phone call from my sisters at least, surprising me of their trip out to witness the ceremony, but unfortunately I didn’t. They all are very busy with children, careers and such, so I’m totally ok with that.     My “family” was still there---they don’t need to be blood related. They drove all the way from NY to MA to be with me on my special day---and for that I thank them for. They made our day very special!

So today, the day before my birthday, I’ve decided to not dwell on the things that are out of my control, but to get out there in life and “live”! I will no longer prevent myself from seeing what life has to offer, or sit and wait for it to come to me. I’m going to travel more, take more risks, love more without expectations and most of all, always always forgive people, just as I need to be forgiven too. I’ve been too hard on myself this past year with negative thoughts and I’m going to snap the hell out of it. In fact, I’m getting my passport this week and heading out to Spain this coming June. I can’t wait. It’s time to live.   Finally.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Monday Morning & Weekend Update

(This photo was taken yesterday upstate, in Warwick, NY while doing a little Sunday driving.)

It started when I had problems unraveling myself out of the covers. I then tried to attempt walking, tripped over a flip flop and almost knocked my head into a doorknob before falling flat on my face. Madelene was already in the shower and I wanted to make breakfast and coffee before she got out. I tried opening the cabinet doors to only find that there’s some sort of little person inside throwing cinnamon and nutmeg at me. They all came flying out and onto the floor. I reached out to grab the big can of coffee, only having it slip out of my fingers, crashing onto the floor making a big ol’ “CA-JUNGA-JUNGA-JUNGA” noise, as it rolled from one side of the kitchen to the other so that my neighbors downstairs could know it’s morning too. I’m polite that way.

While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I checked my blog and realized my last post had been frig’d up. The video wouldn’t play and for some reason the embedding code was tweaked somehow once converted onto Blogger. So I gave up. In a nutshell, yesterday we had a wonderful day doing some Sunday driving and shopping. Once we got to one of our favorite restaurants, I realized my stomach was gurgling after our meal. False alarm though--I didn’t get sick thank God, however Madelene was making fun of me on the drive home because my stomach was a bit queasy. Once we got home, I saw Madelene run 90 mph into the nearest bathroom. Karma.

Super Bowl was about to come on and I was going to attempt to watch it. I don’t understand how a bunch of big burly men thrashing into one another counts as a sport. I understand that you need to get the ball closer to the goalie, or finish line, or in the basket, but how do people enjoy this sport? So I decided to drink my non-alcoholic beer and have some wings. Watching the news afterwards is only a downer, because they always let you know how unhealthy everything about the Super Bowl really is. “Eating hot wings is very bad for your health. You may be consuming thousands of calories due to the fat content. Wings are only deep fried skin dipped in the most fattening dressing.”

Even after Thanksgiving, while watching the news they reported how many people have heart attacks afterwards, from overeating and drinking too much. “Holiday heart is the number one killer during Thanksgiving.” Great, thanks.

I think I’ll go back into bed and ravel myself up into the covers.