What Do I Do Now

I don’t know what to do now that you are gone. For these past 4 years you were my best friend. You were the one constant, always there, somewhere, just within my reach. You understood and comforted me when I lost my way when my dad died. When I needed it, you were the one that would “hold” me in the best way that you could, and I tried to do the same for you. When we were lonely, it was with each other that we chased those demons away. We bared our souls and never were judged by the other. You broke my walls and I trusted you with everything. You forgave me a 1000 times and never remembered you were ever mad. You lifted my heart whenever we came together and I could hold nothing back from you. You know the deepest parts of my soul and you understood me.

And now you’re not lonely anymore, but I still am, even more so because of the loss I feel. And the person I always turned to isn’t there anymore. When I can’t sleep or wake up with my heart beating and the panic starting because I’ll never know if you’re ok, I won’t have anyone to talk with or write to, to calm me. I feel like something is missing and sad because if no one else cared, I thought you did. And now I can't think that anymore. I will put you away inside my heart where I will hold your memory but can never quite look at it too closely or I will feel the loss all over again.

Happy 50^th Birthday to me, my dog got hit by a truck today. Like you said life’s messy.

Turning 50

You know, I try really hard not to think negatively about turning 50. I really try not to think about it at all...then I open my mail and what do I receive...A membership card to AARP!

What's next, an invitation to come to the air conditioned Senior Centers on ozone action days??? I wonder if I'll get a Golden Buckeye card to get 10 % discounts off at restaurants...hmmm, that's something to think about.

To keep my spirits up, this video is hysterical, it's the Bollywood version of Thriller

Lesson For Today...Love

"In an age where so much of life is based on feelings, it seems that we've begun to lose the true essence of what love means. Once love meant a decision; when you loved someone you loved them forever. Today however, the overwhelming feelings of emotion dictate our decision to "love". But, on the other hand, if the fascinating affection we once felt begins to die we determine that we no longer "love" that person, and then. most sadly, we often give up and walk away. Love has evolved."

-Joel Smallbone

I found this quote and it clarified something for me. I realized that maybe I am not an anomaly. I had started to think I was somehow different because when I love someone, I love them...always, but no one else seemed to feel that way. Relationships are jumped into and out of. No one sticks it out anymore, things get rough, they leave. They hit a bump in the road, they are out. Unfortunately, like that quote says, love has evolved. Sadly it has now evolved to the point where when someone wants to shuck the old life, they murder their spouse, and/or their children. Among other things, these people are too stupid to see that that is not an effective method of change because the change they eventually get is prison or death.

I'm not saying some relationships aren't better off ending, but those aren't based on real love. In those relationships what the parties assumed was love was probably infatuation...which is fleeting; lust...fleeting; emotion...fleeting; the desire or need for love....misguided and desperate; or dysfunction...painful and dangerous.

If people took the time to develop and explore the relationship and a friendship with the other person instead of falling into lust or infatuation...then decide this is a person I love, how much happier would we all be. How much more fulfilled we would all feel and our lives would be so much better. Sex is immediate gratification, making love is a spiritual experience. My father at the end of his life still reached for my mother's hand after 59 years of marriage. He didn't have to look backward and see a string of broken relationships, broken hearts, damaged children. He had his best friend and lover at his side. We all could be so lucky if we slowed down and got to know the person before we make the decision to entrust them with our heart. And once we do, remake that decision every day.

I know this conversation is a little heavy for a Saturday morning, and I'm not trying to sound preachy...but when our moments of clarity come...

Letter From God

I Love Jason Mraz

I think this is my favorite song of his. I put on my earphone and get lost in this song...

Waiting For the Shit To Drop

As I previously mentioned, this is a sea gull that perches over my head at the pier, while I wait for the perfectly poised bomber to let all loose

I Don't Really Have Anything To Say

Life is status quo and I have nothing to say. I have been reading other blogs and two things sparked thoughts in my mind.

First, on a blog, it said "If you hate seeing a heart break, did you look the other way when you broke mine?" That reminded me something my husband said to me "I don't want to hurt you", so instead of changing the behavior that was hurting me, he left...which hurt most of all because he didn't love me enough to stay and work things out.

Then on another blog someone was talking about their dreams. And I realized I haven't dreamt in a while. I usually am a vivid dreamer. Probably because I have an awful time sleeping, so I remember them more because I don't spend as much time in REM, but lately I haven't been dreaming. Actually, we all dream all the time, but I haven't been remembering them. Maybe I am getting more deep sleep than I used to. That may be from daily exercising. I have mixed feelings about not remembering my dreams. My dreams have tortured me, especially when they are about my husband, because they always leave me sad...I would wake thinking, Oh I have to call him, then realize I can't. Even 24 years since he died, I would still dream about him. But on the other hand, I miss some of my dreams. They can be funny or it can just be fun trying to figure them out. I believe our dreams are the way we work things out, I don't give them any special or spiritual meaning. Although one time I did have this very strange and prophetic dream that was healing emotionally, but I will save that for another day.

And one other thing I would like to say. I have found that when I relate in type, I use the word "just" a lot...and this irritates me. I also tend to wind down a post with a sentence beginning with "So". This also irritates me.

So I will just have to work on not doing that.

The Internet Crash 2007

Just Me and My Blog

I hate Fridays. I guess I don't really hate all of Friday, the hate starts in the afternoon. We got to work all week and we can't wait till it's Friday again. We count off the days and then voi'la!, it's here. When I wake in the morning I love not just turning off the alarm, but disarming it for the whole weekend. Then you get to work and you think I can do this, just eight more hours and then I have the whole weekend away from all of this.

But then as I head back to work after lunch, this heaviness settles on me, dragging me down. What's to look forward to. I have no plans, no one to do anything with. The phones not going to ring, unless of course it's my mother trying to make me feel responsible for her happiness. After work, I stop and buy my lottery ticket, then drive around a bit,delaying going home. The house will seem especially quiet and lonely on a Friday night. I hate it. I just wish there was someone, a friend, that would come over and watch a movie, or go out for a drink, or just call on the phone.

I have friends out of town, one friend from Georgia may call me to pass the time while she drives 2 hours to meet her current love interest...so I get to listen to her happiness and hear about her sex life and the fun they will have...happy for her but feeling lonelier. This friend wants me to feel like she does, so she emails some guy from one of the personals that I just took my profile off of...keeps bugging me to write him. I have no desire because: a.) he's 4 hours away and b.) it will probably just be another disaster, like the last guy I met from the internet. The one I previously mentioned who got some pleasure out of repeatedly yanking my chain. I will never understand that whole situation or why someone who would seek you out to offer you the thing you wanted most in the world, friendship, tells you to call anytime, then ignores my calls. I will never understand him and at the same time when I think of that whole situation I feel a sense of sadness...he lives a few miles away, but couldn't be farther away. I know that any sane person would say get over it, it's his loss, he will never know what he missed out on... Just when I do think of him, it's sad...he lives so close, we could have been friends, I will probably never see him again...why do I care, he was disappointing as a human being, he made my soul hurt...funny thing is, he tried to undo that lack of humanity, only to magnify his deficit of character when he did it to me yet again. I still think there was so much potential there, I saw glimmers of it...

But I hate losing people, anyone...I have lost my husband, 2 sisters, 2 best friends, my father...my heart has all these little compartments where I keep them. Sometimes the door opens a little and I start to peek inside at them, but then I slam it shut. I keep them close, know they are there, but if let that door open, a floodgate of sadness and loss will overwhelm me.

So I sit here on a Friday night, just me and my blog. this will be my best friend for now.

There's a Cat in My Bathtub

We had storms one night and my mother's electricity went out. So I had to bring her over here for the night. She went to use the bathroom and she comes back and says "There's a cat in your bathtub". My reply was, of course, "Just one?". My cats love to hang out in the tub. They lounge there, they insist on getting their water from the faucet dripping. I've tried to leave them water, even put a bowl in the bathtub but no, they want it fresh from the tap. Whenever you sit on the toilet, the female tiger suddenly appears and walks along the edge of the tub wanting to be petted. She does not like to be held., Won't let you pick her up. So I always have had a terrible time brushing her. Finally, it dawns on me the other day, just brush her in the tub! Ok, So I am slow...So there I was, brushing the cat, bent over the tub, my ass in the air. She absolutely loved it, rolled around in there, even let me brush her stomach which she really doesn't like to be touched. All went well until in her ecstasy at being brushed she gave one of those low growl-purr-meow sounds, something close to a hot sweaty sex sound (as well as I can remember). This alerted Dempsey, the dog, that someone was getting attention other than he and he came to check it out, which of course upset the whole bonding moment that Lily and I had going on. It's kind of strange, that I have to sneak around with my other pets, so that Dempsey doesn't find out...almost like an adulterer. But then I guess it's kind of strange that I have a cat (or 2) in my bathtub.

Intellectualism or Creativity...You decide

I woke up today without anything to do. It is the 4th of July, a holiday, and I had no plans...life...or lack of...So I laid in bed for awhile thinking maybe I would get my master's...or take up jewelry making. So should I satisfy my intellectual side or my artistic side. Maybe the problem is, I never perfect any side of me.

Weighing my options I thought the master's sounded pretty good, but I would have to do a master's thesis and I am just not into that anymore. That stuff used to just pour out of me. When I had to write this 30 page analytical paper, I of course put it off until the last minute. The night before it was due I think I had maybe 10 pages done. And of course putting off till tomorrow what you can get done today is never a good idea. But I procrastinate, and I work best under pressure. It's like it shocks me into action. In this case, it really wasn't a good idea to put it off because my best friend was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer that day, and I spent all night with her on the phone, trying to help her while I wrote 20 pages of analysis. I still don't know how I did it, I only know I was up all night, finished at 630 am and my class was at 8 am. I only did 27 pages, I just hit a wall and could not go further. So I handed it in and expected to flunk. Surprisingly, I got an A...unbelievable...still am in shock about that and it was 10 years ago. However, I do have to say, that although I do procrastinate, I am constantly thinking about the papers and wrote things in my head. So by the time I actually put finger to keyboard it has already started to take form.

On the other hand, this jewelry making is intriguing me. I bought a bracelet at an art show a week or so ago. It is a gold woven bracelet with multi-colored stones all the way around it. I get so many compliments on this bracelet. A few minutes ago I stopped to buy a bottle of water and the cashier said "that is a beautiful bracelet"...The artist who makes them offers teaching kits on her website that you can purchase that gives you all the materials you need to learn. I used to do many crafts...crochet, knit, cross stitch, wood crafts, years ago I did ceramics. I haven't tapped into my creativity in a long time...but I also look around here and see all the unfinished crafts packed away in the closet. So will this be one more unfinished project making me feel guilty.

So what do I do? Probably neither. It was just something to muse about today. I just need something to do, to at least feel I have a purpose in life. I'm not sure blogging is that which will give me sustenance long term.

Another Sunday At The Pier

I went up to Luna Pier again today. In the spring I spent every moment I could at Secor Park. I loved taking the dogs there for walks. Or after work I would go out there and walk by myself and then sit in the sun and read for awhile before coming home. I just needed to get out in the open. But then after about Mother's Day, the mosquitos became so bad it was no longer enjoyable. I went out there one Sunday and just driving in with my window cracked these huge mosquitos got in and terrorized me. So I guess Luna Pier is my new openness. It's not really my new openness, I have gone up there for years as a place of contemplation.

The pier goes out about 1/8th mile I guess, so I walk the pier and then sit in the sun. Today it was quite choppy and these huge blankets of seaweed were everywhere in the water creating dark ominous shadows in the water. There's always old men and boys with their dads fishing off the pier. Today there was this family of 3 boys and a girl. Well, I didn't realize they were all together because the mother and daughter were a short way away from the boys and father. I was thinking, hmmm he's cute, no wedding ring. Then I found out later they were all together as they left. Of course, "she" was very nice and commented to me what a beautiful day it was...while I felt guilty I had been coveting her husband's ass. Well arms really, I have an arm thing. Kind of weird. Then one of the boys about 9 yrs old walks past me, proudly carrying the lone fish they all caught and he says to me "I caught it!" Actually he should have been proud because it was probably 10 inches long and went a couple pounds. I said "Wow, are you going to eat it?". Again pangs of guilt for lasciviously coveting his father's ass, I mean arms. Dang nice family. And he's like "yep!"...So cute.

As I sat there, thinking, thinking...I'm always thinking. Does everyone do this. What else is there to do when you are not talking, which I don't do a lot as I spend so much time alone. But I get the sense that maybe not everyone does all this thinking, because one of my friends at work said I have the strangest thoughts. But can the mind be shut down? Someone tell me, am I some anomaly because I can't shut it off. I just hop around from one thought to the other. Some inane, some deep and thoughtful...And don't recommend therapy, please. I have spent my time there...it just makes me think more. And at some point, you just have to accept that life can suck and all the talking about it isn't changing it.

Anyway, so I sat there, soaking up some sun...watching the kids play on the beach...thinking that my sister and her husband may be one of those sails I saw in the distance. They started on a month long vacation (laughing, they are retired how can they be on vacation but if they want to call it that, ok) on Friday. heading to Port Clinton from Cleveland and then on to Windsor and they will go up to the upper Great Lakes. And then I heard a cry of a sea gull quite close. I look up from my bench on the pier and note two gulls sitting on the lamp post above my head and one of them had his ass end poised over the edge of the lamp they were sitting on directly above my head. I sat there thinking "Oh no you won't, will you? Geez, please, not that...I can't take the shit life throws at you and now your shit too!" I waited breathlessly, thinking "please go away, please, I don't want sea gull poop on me". But it was a good day today! Suddenly another gull found something down the pier of interest and let out that screeching alarm to the other gulls and my terrorist gull flew away. Dodged that bullet...or bomb as the case may be.

I Am A Snapdragon

"Mischief is your middle name,
but your first is friend.
You are quite the prankster that
loves to make other people laugh."






I know that assigning your psyche to a type of flower, or a color, or a precious stone or any of the myriad other things these tests propose are purely at the discretion of the author. I mean who ever decided that snapdragons denote friendship and mischievousness. But is there something to these little psychological profiles because I do love to make people laugh and my first name is Amie which means friend...

Red Hair & Freckles

I went up to Luna Pier today. I wanted a little sun and to feel the breeze, smell the dead fish, pull mayflies out of my hair...So I sat on the pier and let my mind go, feeling the sun on my face, remembering when I was a child with bright red hair and freckles. Could never go in the sun without being covered up. I hated my red hair and freckles. Kids made fun of you, adults fawned over you and pinched your cheeks. When I see a child with that same coloring, I feel this inherent sadness for him. And then I thought here I am in the sun, trying to get some color, which means I am going to bring my freckles out...and that red hair I hated so much, I now pay money to have that color put back in my hair which I am bleaching out by sitting in the sun. I shouldn't let my mind go.

Can't Sleep, Tying Up Loose Thoughts

I hate waking up in the middle of the night and your mind starts going and then you can't get back to sleep. Ever since Blue died, this thought has been running through my head..."The definition of insanity is repeating the same behavior and expecting a different outcome"...So it is official then, I am insane because that pretty much sums me up.

So one thing I have done to stop the insanity is take my profile down from all these stupid personals sites. I've had my profile up on some of these sites for 4 years. In all that time, other than 1 person, all I have met was losers and liars. I don't even respond anymore because every time I lose a little bit more of my faith in humanity and my soul aches. I said that I was keeping my profile on them so when I was bored I could look at profiles, like people watching at the malls. But now that I have removed my profiles, I realize that there was always that last flicker of hope that maybe you would meet someone, even just a friend. And now that hope is gone...
I know there is no one out there for me, I try to be honest with myself, at least about that...but I guess it is nice to have that hope. What do you do when you have no more hopes and dreams?

Again, trying to be honest with myself, I realize that I wasn't ever going to be successful on those sites. For one thing, after being hurt or let down by men on the internet, I was very mistrustful of anyone. I am not pretty like the other woman, I don't wear a lot of make-up, my hair is not perfectly coiffed...it's not coiffed at all...I am not comfortable flirting, I am too honest...men are scared by honesty. And I could go on...but I am depressing myself. But I thought maybe I could find a friend, someone to do things with, watch a movie, go to the park, the drive-in, a concert in Detroit. But no one on those sites is looking for friends.

I did meet someone 4 years ago who remains a friend, well somewhere between a friend and a lover. I'm not sure what our relationship would be if we lived close, but he is 6 hrs away. He has been a touchstone for me, honest, caring...just hard because he is so far way and we never will know what could have been. I don't know maybe it's better this way. Maybe we wouldn't still have this relationship...such as it is...if we had the opportunity to explore the relationship in person.

Or maybe I would be in another situation where I would like to have this person in my life, even as a friend, but they don't want you. Since my father died 3 years ago, I have suffered with depression. A couple months after, I was contacted by someone through one of those sites. I wasn't even going to answer him, can even remember talking about it with my friend in Texas who has met many men from the personals, but he lived in the area and I thought, well, maybe this time...that old flicker of hope...I wish I had let it go...He seemed normal enough, we even met. I knew it wasn't going to be a "love connection", but I thought we could be friends. But men don't need friends...I'm not sure what this guy needs. I only know that every encounter with him, it seems like he holds out his hand to offer me something, and when I, in my naivete reach for it, he snatches his hand away laughing at my stupidity for reaching for it. When I have talked to him, he seems like a normal person...that's what's been so hard. I read his old emails, he seems normal, I give him the benefit of the doubt, then he pulls his hand back again. One time I asked him if he was one of those kids that ran around ringing people's doorbells. When you open the door, no one is there but you can hear snickering in the bushes.

The difficult part for me is that he has something I want more than anything...and no it is not a hot body...he has intelligence and worst of all a sense of humor. I enjoy more than anything being around people who can make me laugh. It is intoxicating for me, it releases endorphins or whatever in your brain, it fights the depression, it makes you just feel good. And he has what I call edge of my seat humor...he says something, then you wait, kind of holding your breath, trying to figure out what he means and then he says "I'm kidding!". I am such a laughter whore..."Research has shown that laughter is essential to your well-being. As scientists have learned more about the brain, they’ve discovered that smiles and laughter stimulate the brain to secrete chemicals, including endorphins, which seem to stimulate healing, increase happiness and reduce pain. Laughter is a powerful tool for your health. It can provide muscle relaxation, release from anger and fear, stress reduction, prevention of heart disease, reduction in headaches and anxiety, as well as needed socialization."

But he said something very hurtful to me a while ago and I never heard from him again...I had always hoped he would restore my faith in humanity and apologize but he didn't. So I called him one day and told him how hurtful he had been. I hoped that he was just being cruel to me and not making others feel the way he made me feel...again he never apologized. Then I found out he went through something I know very much about, he lost someone important to him. I wanted to do the decent, caring thing and call him, but I knew he so despised me that my call would not be welcome. But after losing my father, this weighed so heavy on my heart, and made me so sad that I could not reach out to him, another person who was hurting...Then one Saturday night, he was very much on my mind, I even prayed that God would let me let go of this burden of thinking about him and what he was going through...then my phone rang and it was him. A year after he had humiliated me, 6 months after I made the phone call to tell him how bad he made me feel. I was shocked. He apologized for his behavior, said he had gone through something and now he was feeling some humanity and said we were friends, I could call anytime...blah, blah, blah. Apparently humanity has a short-shelf life. I called him all through the holidays, I know he didn't want to talk to me, I'm not stupid, but I know how hard the first holidays are. Then I stopped, but every now and then I wonder how he is, I keep hoping that he really meant we could be friends, I keep looking for that humanity...but he lets my calls go to voice mail and never returns them. The last time I did talk with him, asked him if he ever wanted to walk in the park with me to give me a call. He sounded interested, asked me when I was off...held that hand out for me to reach for...then snatched it away...hasn't answered a phone call since. Humanity has a short shelf-life.

So I left him a message yesterday, why, because I guess I still hope to find that humanity in him. Sadly, I know I'll never talk to him again. I do hope he is ok, one of my old fears when I lose touch with people, always have this fear something is going to happen and I'll never know...like it did with Blue. But deep down, I know that he just didn't need a friend, and if he did it wasn't me. Sad...

So I will go to the drive-in by myself. And I will make myself laugh, and talk to myself on this blog.

Hey Lady!!!!

This past weekend I went to New York with a couple friends from work. We left Friday after work. I rushed home and took a shower and quick ate a Lean Cuisine...this is pertinent later in my adventure...then off to Nancy's and headed off to pick up a couple more people and then drive to Elyria to meet a bus and a couple more people.

Having never ridden on a bus, other than locally, Nancy, Oanh (my immediate boss) and I only took what we could carry around New York all day. Which for me was a back pack and a jacket. We didn't know we could leave things on the bus so we didn't take pillows or blankets which we could have used.

I barely slept all night. The seats of course are uncomfortable and were bothering the pinched nerve I have in my back which causes spasms in my knee ( an old injury last fall). Poor Oanh who is only about 4'5", (size 00 Petite, I hate her)was freezing so I gave her my jacket since I wasn't able to sleep anyway. The group I was with, a bunch of rowdy 60ish woman that all grew up together in Sandusky make this trip about once a year. They all came prepared. They brought coolers and food and drinks etc. Of course they offered us food, but I wasn't hungry (the surgery remember)and can't eat that kind of food, cheese, doughnuts, twizzlers, etc.. At about 6 30 am we stop in New Jersey so we can get cleaned up and I ate a protein bar (again this becomes improtant later on), thinking we would stop in New York and get some breakfast or at least grab something at McDonald's.

I have not been to New York and did not realize that the mountains go all the way to New York. As we are approaching the Lincoln tunnel...or maybe the Holland tunnel...not sure which...the houses were way up on this hills and the expressway lined with stone walls. Then we cross over into Manhattan. I think I threw my neck out twisting it around to see all these places I had seen on TV but never in person. I couldn't believe it was so big, everything was, the buildings, the billboards, the tv screens in Time Square. It was amazing.

So the bus dropped us off at 42nd and Madison and we were off. We walked a lot, first we went to Rockefeller Center to hit the today show (ok remember, I was with old ladies...um more mature ladies, they like Lester Holt.) Everywhere we go these men are coming up to use with boxes and sheets full of illegal designer knock-off purses and watches...the prize that was the reason we were going, well, they were, I was going just to go, don't know a Louis Vuitton from a Chanel and really don't care for either. I did get to stop at St. Patrick's Cathedral. I wanted to see that and light a candle for my brother who needs a kidney transplant. I was surprised it wasn't as big as I thought. It was big, don't get me wrong, but just not as big as it seemed when you see a Kennedy wedding there on TV. Then we were walking, walking, walking again, to find a Greyline bus, a doubledecker tourbus that we rode off and on all day. The tour guide gives a running commentary on all the points of interest.

Our destination was Chinatown. We got off and the chinese women are lined up, waiting for us. This is where I first heard those words that I heard so much that day I came to believe my name was Hey Lady! Hey Lady, you wanna buy a purse, we got purse...Hey Lady you wanna buy a watch, you buy Gucci? Hey Lady, you buy DVD? I was still turning around in circles trying to take it all in when I realized my friends were all walking down the street. I tag along wondering where they were going when I realize they are following a Chinese girl. Apparently they were zeroing in for a purse kill. We walked a couple blocks until we get to this like warehouse building. The chinese girl states upstairs 4 stairs. And everyone is like 4 flights, isn't there an elevator (noting the freight elevator just like on TV), no she says, not work. So we figure out who wants these purses bad enough to go up what actually turned out to be 4 floors, 8 flights of steps. I didn't go due to previously mentioned knee injury, walking is not a problem usually, but still have trouble with steps. So I waited downstairs with Marge, another newbie, who was the lone smoker and had a suitcase which I'm not sure why because she never bought anything all day, and she wasn't having any fun. I didn't know Marge, but she was obviously fearful. The chinese girl was trying to get us to move away from the door of the warehouse where we were waiting and I realize it was because she didn't want us to be a red flag for the cops. Marge wouldn't budge until I explained that they weren't going to mug or kill our friends or us, she just wanted us away from the door, she we walked to a stoop a couple doors down.

Well, the purse fanatics came back emptied handed. After walking all the way up there, the selection was crap and they didn't like the man selling the purses. Then when they got downstairs, there were people waiting for the elevator "that didn't work"! So off we go up and down some alleys until we come to this one store and next thing I know (I just keep following blindly)we are going in back of some sweat shop up and down narrow hallways into this small room about 12 by 8, lined with purses and about 12 people in there. Right off the bat, I spot this D & G bag that I love, sorry Dolce & Gabana for you fashion victims. Well, actually I did not even know it was a D & G until after I bought it, I just liked the purse, multicolored striped leather bag...as soft as buttah... Someone asks the chinese girl guarding the door how much for me ( I have no idea what I am doing) She says "FittyFibe dolla". I go to Oanh (pronounced "Wan"), who I should mention is Vietnamese. Nancy and I call her TigerLily because she can be fierce. I pissed her off once and work very hard never to do again. Oanh tells me to offer her $25. The chinese girl hears her and starts off!!! " I no like chinese lady, they say twennyfibe, no like.This new purse fittyfibe" So she wouldn't give it to me for twenny-fibe...damn....so I tried $30...no go, she keeps carrying on, tried $35---nope she came down to $40. I am worried about an international incident with all her carrying on about Oanh. She keeps telling me she no like Chinese lady. I told her she's not chinese, then we played 20 questions. She says what Japanese?, no I said, Korean she asks, I just put my hand up shook my head and walked away. So I finally bought the purse, which I love, for $40 with her carrying on about Oanh the whole time. So as I was leaving I asked her if I could ask a question and she said yes, I said what nationality are you. She looks at me like I am stupid, she's says "I chinese." I said well why you no like chinese lady? She's says "I know chinese lady, they always say twennyfibe. That new purse, it fittyfibe." Then Oanh gets in her face and says, you don't like then don't sell purses. Ahhhh TigerLily... Then as Oanh and I stand outside waiting for the others, this girl came back and forth a couple times with more customers they grab off the street. First she would give Oanh dirty looks, but Oanh would point her finger at her and say I'll call the police. Then the girl starts to worry a little and she comes up to us and is telling us if the police ask where we bought the purses not to tell them we bought them there. Oanh kept agitating her and said I'll tell the police. So then she decides to try and chum up to Oanh and she says I like you...Oanh says, youlike me becuase you are afraid I'll call the police. I'm still waiting for the Chinese mafia to kill us.

So we went on our way, I don't know how many hours we spent in Chinatown, I only know I would be walking along and realize I am alone because they would disappear in the back room of some store and spend a half hour buying purses wallets and watches. It's now about 1 in the afternoon. I have only had that protein bar since 6 pm the night before. Since the surgery I don't really feel hungry but I knew my blood sugar was dropping. the others started saying we should eat, but then they would disappear and God forbid that 7 women should be able to have a consensus on whether to just pick up something to eat on the street or go sit down somewhere. This went on for an h our until I finally told Nancy, I had to eat or pass out, then trying to find someplace in Chinatown...I can't just eat a hot dog off the street, and I have to eat slow and chew the food really well. At that point my blood sugar was so low I was starting to get edgy and anxious...the streets were packed and the chinese were coming at me left and right Hey Lady you wanna buy....whatever...I must not have looked too well because we finally found a McDonalds which also is not something I would normally eat, but I figured I could eat chicken. So we avoided a medical incident in the middle of Canal Street in Chinatown.

The adventure continued... nothing as dramatic...the rest of the day, We went to Ground Zero, then got caught in the rain and couldn't get a bus, and when we finally did had to stand smashed together holding on to a ring for an hour just like in the movies. We made it back to our charter bus by 8 pm after more walking, walking, walking...And Nancy, God love her, gave me her seat on the bus because she didn't have anyone next to her, so I could lay down and sleep on the way home. Everyone was exhausted and where the ride to New York was loud and boisterous, the way home everyone slept like the dead...cuddled up with their purses.

Glass Parade

The following are the words to a song that is one of those that jumps out and grabs you because it speaks to how you feel at a particular time in your life...There are a couple words I couldn't make out, I've posted the link Cary Brothers my space page, listen to the song (you have to scroll down in his list of songs) and see if you can help me out, if not then hopefully the lyrics will be in his CD when I get it. Those of you that know me well and all my secrets might recognize why I love this song.

The Glass Parade

Just a voice inside your head,
Whisperin’ all the hope is dead.
All the time you had to prove,
That no one really loves you.
I found you in a reflection,
You didn’t want me to see.
I will give you all I have,
just look up, Break down and believe.

This is a Glass Parade…A fragile state
And I am trying not to break.
And the stars are shining,
The moon is right
And I would kill to be with you tonight.

Wish you told me all the truth,
So afraid to face an absolute.
All the fights you had to lose,
All that fear was put upon you.
I found you when you were broken
Too many cracks of deceit
I will give you all I have,
just look up, Break down and believe

This is a Glass Parade…A fragile state
And I am trying not to break
And the stars are shining
The moon is right
And I would kill to be with you tonight.

This is the feeling falling,
So much I want to say.
Show me the same emotion.
Show me what’s at stake,
How much can you take
When you realize your fate.

Hold me now as the car lights fade
And we are dancing in the Glass Parade.
Dancing in the Glass Parade.

It’s just voice inside your head.


Addendum 06 22 07. I got the CD and lyrics and updated them

What a Little Girl!

This little precious girl gave me chills, then I couldn't help but smile from ear to ear...

This Is Me After My Surgery

I wish this would be me after surgery...I've lost 50 lbs so far. I'm struggling right now, though. At first after surgery I had a lot of internal swelling. This only allowed me to eat about 1/8 cup of food at a time...3 times a day. So the weight did drop off quickly. But once the swelling resolved, I was starting to feel hungry, so on May 7th, I had the band tightened.

The first time the band is tightened, it's done with fluoroscopy at the hospital. That was really interesting. First you lay on the table and the doctor numbs you, then inserts a large bore needle into the port. You are hoping he doesn't miss because he could poke a hole in the catheter if he does and then you would need surgery to fix it. My friend had that happen. Once they have the needle in the port in your abdomen you stand in front of this Xray machine and you have to drink barium...God, I detest that crap. Then on the monitor you can watch the barium go down your throat and into the pouch at the top of your stomach created after they put the band around your stomach. Then you can watch how fast or slowly the barium goes through the narrow opening created by the band from the pouch into your stomach. The doctor puts saline into the port to increase the tension of the band to slow down how fast the pouch empties. He may put some in and have to take some out until he gets it right. It is very cool watching all this happen. I could see the band around my stomach and watch the hole process of swallowing and the contractions of the esophagus as the barium moves through. I worry about the pouch getting stretched out but both Dr Duckett and Oweis who were both there assured me, my pouch was fine. Those sweet talkers...

So since then, I can still eat a fare amount. Your pouch should hold about 1 cup of masticated food. Your hunger receptors are at the top of your stomach, so you eat less because the message gets to your mind faster. Plus the pouch empties slower since the band was tightened so you feel full longer. That's why we are not supposed to drink at least 1/2 hr. before meals and 1 to 2 hrs after meals, so the food is not liquefied and moves through faster.

So why am I struggling? I don't know. I just am not seeing any weight loss right now. I was walking at least 5 times a week, and Tai Chi once a week. I had to stop going to the park which was my favorite spot since surgery because the mosquitos became so bad this year, and without Dempsey to walk with, I don't enjoy walking in the neighborhood. So i switched to aerobic tapes. Let me tell you, there is nothing funnier than a fat girl doing Hip Hop Abs. I have been doing that 6 days a week if not 7, plus tai chi one day a week. Still only eating 3 meals a day. I try to stick to 1200 calories a day. So what's the problem??? Why is my scale not moving??? My body feels like I am still losing, but I need to see the proof.

People don't understand obesity, not even the so-called experts. Everyone thinks it is lack of willpower, and just stop eating and you'll lose weight. OK that is called starvation...and when your body starves, it conserves by holding onto fat. No one seems to understand that this is a disease of the mind, just like anorexia. The toxic thinking that affects how you feel and what you do is more powerful than all the willpower in the world. Even when you recognize it as toxic thinking, it is still difficult to battle. And it is a constant battle. When I got on that stupid scale today, and saw that it hadn't moved down, actually was up (note to self, get a new scale), after only eating 3 meals yesterday, doing my aerobics, went to the beach and walked on the sand (that's not easy), worked in the yard pulling up vinca (very invasive and pain in the ass to remove, don't ever plant it) and trimming a tree...I want to give up. say FUCK IT, if I work this hard and see a weight gain, what is the point. I might as well eat chocolate... Instead I came here to blog about it. How unsatisfying (no offense).

I am trying to be rational. Think of those before me who have lost a lot of weight after the surgery. My friend in Texas, Muhammad Ali's daughter, people in my support group... I know my age is working against me, it will be harder for me. I know that I have a lot to be thankful for already, 50 lbs is alot of weight and I feel so much better. Just so hard to fight that voice in my head (La Voix Dans Ma Tete).

My sister in law teaches aerobics at a Chevrolet plant here. An overweight woman came to her about dieting and she was telling her about my surgery. The woman said that I had taken the easy way out. This is the easy way out? Of course, my sister in law who is the skinniest but nicest person I ever met told her it was not easy and she was proud of me...but then you have the other comments that you get. A couple weeks after I had lost 44 lbs one of my friends at work asked me how much I had lost now... And when I said about 45lbs, she said well that's what you had lost before haven't you lost anymore. Why thank you, I really needed that encouragement. My sister (height/weight proportional), who I haven't seen since Christmas came in this past weekend. She was anxious to see me knowing I had lost 50 lbs. She's like let me look at you, then she says ok, I can see you've lost some weight, your face is thinnner. Again, thank you, but I'm pretty sure I didn't lose 50 lbs from my face!

So, how do I get through today? Well, I guess I go put that damn Hip Hop Abs DVD in, and try to take it one day at a time...Tomorrow is the support group, which is not really much of a support, really just a bunch of whining people, but I get to weigh in, woohoo...and hope that my scale is broken and really I have lost 5 lbs since last meeting.

Ready To Take To The High Seas!

Send In the Clowns

I am so full of sadness today. This is a very strange year for me. In some ways, I feel like I am embarking on a new life...Since my surgery I have lost about 50 lbs, I feel so much better, I feel hopeful, that maybe there is something good waiting around the corner...

Then on the flip side, everywhere I turn I feel so many endings and loss. I dreamt about my husband the other night. He died 24 years ago. In the dream he told me we can't ever talk again...Blue is gone, I'll never talk to him again. Someone I hadn't heard from in over a year, comes back...but apparently our BFF-ness was dependent on something I didn't want to do...I said no and that was the last I heard. I took a chance and emailed an old friend and he moved across the country...lost forever. Someone who has always been there and was a touchstone has been distant and invisible... I pressed for the truth and got it...can't fool myself any longer. And finally the one I would like to be friends with, who makes me laugh, who humiliated me then a year later apologized and swore fealty just lets my calls go to VM which are never returned.

I guess waiting for whatever is around the corner is useless when you are stuck in a round existence. You keep circling and always ending up in the same spot. And they wonder why you act crazy...At work they have an aquarium in the lobby and there is this orange and white clown fish...every minute of every day that clown fish is in the left corner of the aquarium swimming spastically in a 4 inch area. Compulsively darting back and forth never leaving that limited space. I feel like that clown fish...

There is nothing lonelier than choices made out of desperation

The Other Beasts In My LIfe

Milo and Lily hanging out

Zoe in the sun

Milo the jungle cat

The Love of My LIfe

Dempsey

Three years ago my dad died. I loved my father beyond words and the sadness I felt at his passing still simmers just below the surface ready to break free. Four days after burying my father a beautiful puppy came into my life.


I named him Dempsey and this dog has been my best friend and brought me more joy and laughter than I felt in a long time. After my surgery in March, he also became my walking partner. Oh we had walked plenty the last few years, but now I need to walk 5 to 6 times per week. And Dempsey is always there jumping on me and doing mid-air pirouettes while I try to get a lead on him. But when I started walking post-op, I noticed that Dempsey had a little hitch in his step on his back leg. Over the last 2 months it has gotten worse, and after I take him for a walk, he limps noticeably. A week ago, we were deep in the woods at the park, a mile from the car and he was limping so bad, at times he hopped along on 3 legs. He's been limping since. So today I spent $300 for x-rays and my fear was realized...Dempsey has hip dysplasia.

I know it's not the end of the world, and at this time we are treating him with a special diet and anti-inflammatory medication; but I feel a certain sadness that my vibrant, happy clown is going to face pain and possibly disability long-term. And I don't want to see him in pain. I can't even take his subdued attitude tonite. He's been kind of out of it and quiet tonite after the anesthesia, he didn't even go nuts at the vet when I picked him up when the other dogs came in and out.

I guess the lesson here, is enjoy the time you have with the ones you love because everything always changes...

Farewell To A Friend

Papi and his Fatgirl

One of "those" calls came in the middle of the night. You know when the phone rings that it's not going to be good. As you reach for the phone your heart is sinking and you start going through your loved ones in your mind wondering which one is in trouble. Last night, the call was truly "Out of the Blue"...

I didn't even recognize my best friend's voice through the agony of her sobs. The love of her life, my friend Blue, was gone...a motorcycle accident in Boston...2 weeks ago...all I could say was "Oh My God" over and over. He was someone I met in the chat rooms, to some that would be inconsequential. But he was a friend, someone I met, the first person from the world of the internet that I met in person. Within a few minutes of meeting me, he had me pegged...damn him...and he tormented me endlessly, loving every minute of it. Today I think every conversation we had ran through my head. And with the utmost sadness, I realize, my phone will never again ring on a Sunday morning and I will hear that goofball flying along the highway with his Mexican music blaring and his sweet deep voice singing to me in Spanish...

Oh Blue, I am so sorry it has been so long since we talked...Why do we take our existence for granted and think the other will always be there. I will miss you forever...And when you get to heaven, where I am sure God has a special place for His naughty Latino boys, and you meet another tall, handsome Mexican man from Laredo, with a line just as smooth as yours...tell Dino I love him always...and I love you too...

Your Candy Girl, Belle

Lap Band Surgery

Ok, so it's been awhile since I started this thing and this is only my 2nd post. I never claimed that I would be prolific. Actually, I doubted anyone would read it, so I wasn't real invested in it. And also, I have been busy and stressed. See on March 5 I had surgery, I had a gastric lap band surgery and was pretty sure I would be dying. I didn't die...as you may surmise, because I doubt that a lot of dead people blog. Oh there may be people who blog that are dead figuratively, but really dead, dead people...I'm pretty sure those people won't need to blog.

But getting back to my surgery, it has been 2 weeks since the surgery, 3 weeks since anything chewable has passed my lips. Well, not really because I did have a candy bar last week (ok I know that kind of defeats the purpose of the lap band, but don't judge) but I didn't chew the chocolate, I let it melt in my mouth so technically it is considered a liquid. I have 2 more days of "full" liquids...or liquids that cannot be seen through but thin enough to be able to be sucked through a straw, but you can't use a straw...and then I get to start 2 weeks of pureed. I have so far lost 21 pounds since I started a presurgery 1200 calorie diet on 02/12/07, 11 pounds since the surgery. I can only hope that this surgery will work for me, however my friend told me in AA they tell you "hope is not a strategy". As my surgeon keeps telling me, this is only a tool. Personally I prefer my tools on a man with a low slung leather tool belt with the leather squeaking as he moves and the hammer beating against his leg....oh nevermind, this is starting to go in a direction that I had not intended. So typically me.

I have been thinking about this blogging...What I have come to realize that for some people it's their voice. It is their way to be heard. Their way to express without interruption what they need to communicate about themselves. A sort of therapy. So not having many people that I can say what I want and need to communicate, I am starting my blog. I really don't enjoy all this set up, coming up with an interesting, inspiring name for my blog, what font to use...decisions, decisions, decisions...

Regarding the name of my blog...La Voix Dans Ma Tete means "the voices in my head". Do I hear voices?.....nahhhh....and that's the story I am sticking to. Now there are some who make think I am crazy, but those that love me will probably just say I am eccentric. The voices in my head is just a metaphor for loneliness, not having anyone to just talk to, communicate even the most mundane things. I talk to my dog, but he doesn't have much to say back. Well, he does, but that's between me and him. I'm sure I will elaborate on my dog in later musings. You may ask if I speak French, nope...., not a word. Ok, well a word here and there...I wish I did, it's a beautiful language.

There isn't anything on my profile because I don't want anyone to know who I am. I don't ever want what I log here to be used against me in the future. Does that sound like I am paranoid...yeah pretty much...but I have a healthy mistrust of all things internet and you hear stories about how someone was fired because they post things about their employers...and someday I may feel the need to verbalize something that my employer may use against me in a court of law. So knowing that my name is Amie ( or friend) is enough.

Ok I am so over my first post. Apparently I have a short attention span, there is so much more I want to say. But this is enough for now. Besides since I have nothing else to say of any real interest to anyone other than myself, I really doubt this blog will be read by anyone but myself. Which is ok, it was nice to talk to myself...after all, when I talk to myself I always have someone intelligent and stimulating I can relate to.

Ciao....Amie