Reawakening.

So, it's been awhile.  Lots has transpired since last time I updated.  Obviously.  The way of the universe is, life goes on, whether you're ready for it or you want it to or not.  The shop is doing well.  I took a 2 1/2 week trip to California to visit friends, which did wonders for body and soul.  I didn't get to see everyone I wanted to see, but I guess that just means I have to go back next year.  I kept a (paper!) journal through the whole trip, and I plan on writing some posts based on those journal entries, very soon.  And you all know that for me, "very soon" can mean tomorrow or next month.

Yesterday, I made amends with a friend I'd been fighting with for the better part of two months.  We got the yuck out of our systems, talked about things like grown-ups, then spent the evening hanging out like no time had passed.  That's the mark of a good friend, dears.  You get the hell over it.  Forgiveness is hard, and forgetting?  Well, forget it.  But moving on is truly where grace lies.

So it's that time of year where enough of it has passed to look back and make broad, sweeping judgments about it.  This was a bad year for friendship, sadly.  A good year for personal growth, but a horrific year for friendship.  I can't hold myself blameless.  My fault mostly lies in the "not just saying what you feel, when you feel it" department, vis a vis my proclivity to befriend people, then help them, and not speak up when the first signs of my good nature being shat upon appear.

That's what it always boils down to in my life, folks taking enormous dumps on my good nature.  It's always the people I try to give a hand up that suddenly decide I'm a heinous bitch for whatever reason.  I don't think I want anyone besides my husband to live with me ever again.  Those are the worst slaps in the face.  I've got two rooms in my home trashed right now because clearly, asking for rent after MONTHS of saying we're having financial issues is just rude, and expecting to use one's own living room before midnight when there's no less than 3 other places in the house to sleep and clearly, headphones do not exist is downright unreasonable. The really shitty thing is, I don't merit talking to about these things.  Nope.  Let's just leave our shit all willy-nilly and fuck off and shit talk the only person who was willing to help in your hour of need.

I'm done with shitty people, y'all.  Just done.  I'm up to something like 6? 8? people that crested the top of my shit list and rolled off the other side in 2011.  Folks I thought were good friends and good people.  Is it just me?  Does this happen to anyone else when you lend someone a hand?  Maybe it's just misdirected stress and anger.  I'm here, and thus, an easy target.  Makes sense, but it doesn't make it right.  I'm kind, and thus, a mark.  THAT is fucked up.

And, to make up for all the shittyness of this post, here is Scotti-cat in a hoodie.

Onwards and upwards. Bigger and better. Good things are coming to me. I can already feel it.

Relative to what? {Facebook Stupid}

I promise that this is to the best of my memory.  



The Exchange:

So, tonight, a friend's status was about a possible 2012 presidential candidate.

First comment is a non-committal agreement.

I was second. I offered up a casual but firm disagreement.

Friend laughingly states a rebuttal.

I state a piece of information that supports my previous disagreement.

Friend concedes the point, as my information was factual, but states another reason she likes said candidate, a sound bite of rhetoric that's exited the blowhole of every presidential candidate since I started paying attention in the year 2000.

A man, likely an older relative, made a rude statement, calling me ignorant for not sharing his political beliefs. It was deceptively kindly worded, so as to trick the reader into not realizing they'd been insulted.

I replied that Friend's reason was something stated in every election cycle, and then that Relative ought not call strangers ignorant. That it was rude, and did not look good on him.

Friend deletes my comment.

I reply "You deleted my comment? Coward. Enjoy your brainwashing." then unfriended her.

I understand that it's awkward as hell when friends and family clash on Facebook. My personal policy has always been to watch the discussion, whether I participate or not, for anyone being rude and/or unfair. If things got out of hand, I'd delete the status, but I've never had to do this. A different former friend of mine called one of my family members out on a homophobic statement. In fact, on a completely different post, 5 of my friends called out a family member for homophobia. There have been some heated debates, but everyone on my friends list has played (mostly) fair so far. In fact, I've even directed friends/family to rude comments made on my status, just because I knew they'd have something hilarious or awesome to say about it. I don't expect everyone I know to agree on all subjects at all times. It's not possible to not discuss politics so I dive right in, for the most part.  I feel that people should be free to openly disagree with one another. The vast majority of my friends are smart, witty, and opinionated. These are traits I adore in my loved ones. The prevailing unspoken code seems to be one of respect.

A person who feels it's ok for a relative to insult a friend for no good reason, then cosign that bullshit is not a friend. I don't care how "respected" this person is, or how old, I'm not going to just accept their insults. Just...no. I'm an adult. Your relative? I wouldn't know them if they kicked me in the ass. There's a tiny-ass picture and a name. Respect is earned. And if you don't instigate drama, there's no reason to feel badly about calling out an insult. Period. Some people are bullies. Some of them don't know any other way to be, so they get old, bitter, and hateful. Shit happens. I'm too old myself to tolerate a bully, or to silently acquiesce.

So tell me, ye who do not suck, what is your policy on friend vs. family verbal projectiles on Facebook? No seriously. Write it in the comments, anon if you don't feel like registering/signing in/having your name associated with your feelings on the subject. Even if all you have to say is "ignore it." I want as many opinions as possible on this.

Kthanx.

ps - Yeah, fighting on the internet, stupid, whatevs. Humor me.

So this one time, I totally abandoned my blog...

...Sorry about that.  Saying things have been hectic is the understatement of the year.  Biggest news:  B and I opened a gaming/comic shop with a couple of our friends!  Friday was our first day open, and it went phenomenally.  And I use that word without irony or hyperbole.  The three or so weeks leading up to our opening were filled with planning, painting, and sheer exhaustion.  I couldn't form sentences well enough for Facebook, let alone write a blog post with paragraphs and whatnot.  I can't believe it's real, y'all.  "Run my own shop" has always been pretty high on the list of things I'd like to do with my life, and it's happening.  Now, I could go on about the pain I've dealt with for the duration of the remodeling of the store, but I really have no desire to bitch and moan.  Yes, I still hurt.  Yes, I blew through my month's worth of pain meds in two and a half weeks.  Yes, my doctor is an incredibly understanding man and wrote my refill early.  But I pulled my weight, did my part, and I'm still around to tell the tale.  I'll take it.

But suffice to say, everyone in the House of Round Cats was completely exhausted today.  We're closed on Monday and Tuesday, so this is our first day off in forever.  Brandell has been playing games on his computer with Caleb literally all day.  Ryan and I have been spending quality time with Gray's Anatomy on Netflix.  However, Ryan did take a moment to punk anyone and everyone with any intention of using the hallway bathroom.

With so many people living here and spending time here, we always have a plethora of empty soda 12-pack boxes.  Often, they're used for wall-building, as was shown in a previous post.  But tonight?  It was time for something different.

Jared went to use the loo, only to find this:

Yep.  The toilet seems to be missing.

Oh, and it's not hollow either:

We voted for Krystal to be the one to undo Ryan's handiwork, since she's the cutest.  Destruction ensues!



So, I'm pretty pleased that this is the extent of the grand excitement of my day.  Aaand, it's time to get back to the living room before my spot on the couch gets cold.  <3

Heads up

Heh.  I'm punny.  So, fellow migraine sufferers!  I bring good tidings of my personal favorite instant relief strategies!  Things besides pills (sweet, glorious pills!) that I've tried that have worked.  This is my good deed for the month, so no, I will not help you move!

Massage:  God yes.  Get the blood moving, stat.

• Professional -- AMAZING.  I recently posted about it in detail, so I won't go through it all again.  Basically, this is what I'd do every single time I had a headache if money weren't an object and there were massage establishments open 24/7 that didn't offer a happy ending.
• Partner or Friend -- The next best thing, if they know what they're doing.  I'm lucky, because my husband has a very respectable body of knowledge about the bones, muscles, and tendons due to his martial arts background and general smartness.  When I realize I have any sort of headache coming on, I have him rub the muscle between the thumb and forefinger on both hands, my neck, the back of my head, then my forehead, temples, and under my eyes (especially if it's a sinus-related headache.)  He usually rubs my jaw, too, since I have TMJ.  If I'm hurting, the muscles are probably already starting to tense up, so why not stop it before it starts?
• Self  --  You gotta do what you gotta do.  I do pretty much everything B does, except with a lovely dollop of Badger Headache Soother.  Here's the deal.  Yes, it is going to leave a greasy film on your skin (and hair, if you rub the back of your head), however, it's worth it.  It's got a blend of essential oils that help relieve some of the pain.  It also acts like a massage oil that stays in place so you can rub the areas where it was applied as needed.  So what if you look like a shiny raccoon for a few hours, you have a friggin' migraine and anyone who expects you to prioritize appearance while you have a migraine has clearly never had one.  

 
Other helpful things:  Any port in a storm, right?

• Ice -- I keep at least 4 gel ice packs in my freezer at all times.  3 small, 1 large.  I usually start with the ice pack at the base of my skull, then once it's warmed up, I start alternating it to my forehead, and if I'm feeling extra pitiful, I whine for B to get me a second ice pack and basically ice my entire brain case.  While it doesn't make the headache go away, it sure as hell feels good and makes me hate everything less.
• Heat -- My amazing sister-in-law, Roberta, got B and I two Bed Buddies for Christmas this past year.  While heat isn't my favorite thing for a standard migraine, it's the gold standard for anything sinus related, or for headaches due to muscle tension or misalignment of the upper vertebrae.  They're also amazing on your lower back after a long day of sledding.  :)
• Freezer Pops --  Yep, the ones that are basically Kool-Aid in a plastic tube.  They're a good way to cool off and get/stay hydrated without chugging a bunch of water.  Usually, if I'm thirsty during a headache, I am ultra-mega thirsty, and I will absolutely flood myself with water and/or a caffeinated beverage to the point where my nausea is triggered, which only compounds my misery.
• Peppermint Oil --  My massage therapist put peppermint oil on my face, scalp, and neck before beginning my massage, and I was out of pain in under 5 minutes.  I just bought some on ebay today.  'Nuff said.
• Cat --  Properly applied to the back of the head and neck, a well-placed cat is the perfect level of softness, warmth, and vibration if you scratch his head and make him purr.  Behold!

• Dare I say *gasp!* THE REEFER? -- Take your opinion of marijuana as a deadly, dangerous illegal drug and set it aside for a moment.  It has analgesic and anti-emetic properties.  It also relaxes the mind and body, which helps alleviate pain and reduce stress in its own right.  The only time I'd say smoking to help a migraine is contraindicated is when you have a sinus or vascular migraine.  So yes, I am a firm believer in medical use, aaaand I'm not going to say any more on that topic. 
  
  
  

Headaches, especially migraines, SUCK.  And while I'm all for the pill-popping, having a few tricks up your sleeve for instant relief will not only make you hate everyone and everything less until your pills kick in, it can actually halt the increase in pain or even decrease the pain.  So, here's hoping you don't need any of this information any time soon, just that you'll remember the next time you do.


Ritual Legal Climbdown:  I am not a doctor or any person who has any business whatsoever giving medical advice.  Listen to me at your own risk.  If dissatisfied with the advice contained herein, a full refund will be issued. 

OH MY GOD, Y'ALL

So I just read this article on Yahoo News.  I was hungry and about to go eat my leftover sandwich from lunch, but now, NOPE.

Japanese scientists have synthesized meat FROM POOP.

HUMAN FUCKING FECES.

I'll be fair.  I'm sure they killed the various microbes.  I'm sure it does not visually resemble shit.  I'm sure they used enough chemicals to make it palatable to humans.

BUT IT'S SHIT, Y'ALL.  SHIT!

And here's what gets me:

The scientists hope to price it the same as actual meat, but at the moment the excrement steaks are ten to twenty times the price they should be thanks to the cost of research.

So, you go to the market, and you have your regular factory-farmed meat, your more-expensive organic grass-fed meat, AND SYNTHETIC POOP MEAT.  Which are you going to choose?

Professor Ikeda understands the psychological barriers that need to be surmounted knowing that your food is made from human feces. They hope that once the research is complete, people will be able to overlook that ugly detail in favor of perks like environmental responsibility, cost and the fact that the meat will have fewer calories.

Why yes, I do have "psychological barriers" about EATING SHIT.  Those were developed during human evolution for a damn good reason.  And citing "fewer calories" as a reason to override both instinct and common sense?  Oh wait, people do that every day.

Merde!

You don't have to go home but you can't stay here

Well, as was made perfectly obvious in my last post, I've indulged myself in a bit of a pity party over the past few days.  Call it reality catching up to me or PMS or whatever the hell you want, it's been rough.  I don't like getting stuck in The Bad Place, but I certainly have no intention of punishing myself for going there and getting it out of my system.  After so many days of pain and exhaustion, it's really pretty normal.

And I try not to take my own bad moods and feelings too seriously.  I've been posting statuses on facebook like "Quick, somebody call the wahhhmbulance, I need a trip to the bawwwwspital." and "Oh my god. If these inconsiderate assbutts don't stop playing the bass in their car so low that it's rattling my BRICK house and making my head hurt worse, I will simply lose my shit and go out there with a spatula and an egg beater and whomp them like their mamas should have."  If anything's going to make the rest of my life bearable, it's retaining my sense of humor.  


I didn't make it to my brother and sis-in-law's this weekend.  My Chronic Fatigue decided to show its ass.  Boo.  I went on an 18-out of-24 hours sleeping jag, and I think today might be the first time I've really woken up since.  I really wanted to see everybody, especially my aunt Linda, but between how shitty I felt mentally AND physically, I would have been a total drag anyway.  

I did get to go see my therapist on Friday, which was definitely a good thing.  It was very cathartic, at least.  I think the most important thing I got out of it was that I need to take my friends and family at face value when they say they aren't angry and that they do understand when I have to flake.  I think I'm just so accustomed to thinking of myself as a slacker and a flake that I can't possibly see how folks wouldn't be mad, or at the very least, hella irritated with me when I can't do the things I want to do or say I'm going to do.  I set up some pretty destructive thought patterns during the years that I kept my pain to myself.  I have to break them or I'll be a miserable old coot well before my time.  He also says I'm not allowed to hole up by myself for extended periods of time until the mental ship rights itself.  Hissss.


There's some definite bright spots, though.  I did go get a massage like I threatened to in Tuesday's post.  I found a really amazing therapist.  I got there and filled out all the paperwork, then told Ari I was on day 8 of a come-and-go migraine.  He did some sort of wizardry with peppermint oil and face/scalp/neck massage, and I was out of pain in the first 5 minutes.  I wish I could say I got to just relax for the other 55 minutes, but he gave me the most thorough neck and shoulder massage I've ever had, some serious deep tissue shit.  It hurt like hell, especially when he'd hit trigger points (which he then attacked vigorously), but HOLY CRAP, that man is magic, and I felt well enough afterwards to go to Jeff's birthday dinner.  Two hours late, but I wouldn't have been able to show up at all had I not gotten some substantial relief.  I stuffed my face on Eggplant Parmesan and Lemon Buttercream cupcakes.  Jenny, Jenny, is there nothing you can't do?  It was a really chill gathering with awesome people.  I hissed a bit at the fact that I couldn't try the sexy-looking sangria, but them's the breaks.  I'd rather have the level of pain control I have now than revert to alcohol as self-medication, that's for damn sure.


Today's agenda?  THE SPRINGS.  And Fatkini Alchemy.  Mix two way-too-small triangle tops, some thread and ribbon, and maybe come out of it with a triangle top that will make sure I retain what dignity I have remaining.  XD  Can't wait.


Before I go put on my wizard's hat, I want to thank everyone for all the kind words and encouragement recently.  I do know that I'm loved and that people think I'm awesome, I just tend to lose sight of that when I get my head stuck up my own ass, because it's awfully dark up there.  I also want to say that we have our first reader submission on Fatkini Riot!  Go check out the hotness!!!

Bad poetry--skip at will.

careful, now, love
i'm only going to let you down
we'll dream the grandest dreams
we'll take the first steps
i'll fall and i'll fail and you'll try to hide your disappointment in the recovery room

my shell is solid,
but oh, how it creaks against the waves
of duty and of play
i'll wait here in the sand for you
i'll wait in the softness, in the water, in the place where i feel no pain

and please, if you must, go on without me
i can't expect all to be sacrificed at the alter of my infirmity
nothing would thrill me more than to join you
but my shell, it creaks and splinters
and i won't ask you to carry me

I dream of Toradol.

I don't like to do a lot of whining on here, but damn it, I'm frustrated as hell and I feel like shit.

The "scary new symptoms" I mentioned in passing last post?  Well, here's the deal.  About a week ago, my migraines found a rather terrifying new way to manifest.  Full-body electric shocks, loss of equilibrium, dizziness, cold sweats, feeling like I'm going to black out (thankfully, I haven't actually blacked out yet), and nausea of varying degrees.  Once the nausea passes (with or without holding on to the bumper of my car, desperately trying to avoid puking in my own driveway), the pain sets in like blunt force trauma. 

The two worst episodes have both occurred in "big box" stores (Wal-Mart and Hobby Lobby, respectively).  Maybe it's the lighting.  The loud people.  The loud SMELLS.  Both times, I've managed to take some of the emergency meds I keep in my purse at all times and get leveled out enough to go through the check-out line and drive home after spending some quality time with the bench next to the bathroom.  Thankfully, Krystal has been with me both times.  She's awesome at keeping me calm and running down the list of migraine triggers to make sure I've covered as many bases as possible (recent eating--I'm hypoglycemic, meds taken, etc.), and Generally Handling All The Things.  Brandell has also been awesome at making sure I eat even when I don't want to, picking up my slack on errands, fetching ice packs and my pill box, and hooking me up with lots of massage to unknot my neck and shoulders.  Between my husband and my fake girlfriend, I do pretty well for the shape I'm in.  Even Ryan gives a pretty killer head/neck/shoulder massage.  My little family is amazing.

Obviously, I fucking hate this shit.  Eight days of this shit just...coming and going at its leisure.  I can't imagine a much worse time for it.  Between my rabid promotions of Fatkinism and the business project I've found myself balls-deep in that's likely to launch in the next couple weeks, I have so much to do.  And closer to home, Krystal's birthday party at the springs is tomorrow, and Thursday we're driving up to Clarkesville, GA to spend the weekend with the fam and my long-lost Aunt Linda.  I'm functional as long as the pain level is 7 or lower, but I need this to stop.  To just go away.  To let me fucking live my life.  I was so overjoyed when I was first diagnosed and treated.  I felt so much better, like I could do pretty much anything.  Three months later, the status is NOT quo, and I feel like I'm right back where I started, except that now I eat pills for breakfast.  Something's got to fucking give. 

I just got a wild hair and looked up all the day spas in Valdosta, found the perfect one, started dialing the number and realized--I have a dinner to go to in two hours, and I'll be busy all day tomorrow with Krystal's birthday and packing for the weekend.

I guess relief will have to wait.

Alright, you can take off your hats, pity party's over.

Last stop, this town

I am most definitely in a state of transit.

Since I no longer have a stylist, I've taken my hair care into my own hands.  He always said I wouldn't look good with blunt, thick bangs, especially if they extend past the corner of my eye.  Guess what I have now?  I cut 'em myself a few days ago.  They're definitely...challenging when they get unruly, but I love them.

He also told me that he hated the way my hair looks when I dye it blue, so I did that today.  Krystal took some pictures for me on our way to go run errands this afternoon.

So yeah.  New hair.  Major love.

So, since I started rockin' and posting pictures of my fatkini, I've had many people ask questions about the source of my confidence, so I decided randomly to start The Fatkini Mafia on facebook , then got sparky and started Fatkini Riot..  I'm not sure if it's activism or sheer hubris, but both projects sound like tons of fun (hurr hurr) and I hope I can get some co-conspirators to submit photos, guest posts, and engage in discussion.  

If you're interested in the least, join the group, check out the blog, and hit me up and let me know what tickles your pickle.  And yes, I would be more than happy to do some Q&A/advice posts, so hit me up with questions, too.  Anon commenting is enabled, but at least give me a pseudonym and enough details to work with without revealing who you are if you'd rather keep your privacy.  Also, if you can think of questions you would have liked to have answered during your early days of Body Acceptance, I'll take a stab at those, too.  Where to shop, relationship advice, tarot readings--I'll hook it up as long as you're willing for it to go public without your name attached.  I've always had a secret daydream of being an advice columnist, so indulge me, k?

In other news, I about climbed through the drive-thru window at the CVS to choke a bitch.  Here's the story, if you care to read it.  It happened about a week ago, so I'm mostly over it, but damn, y'all, you are RUDE.

Also, I got a new fatkini.  But y'all know where to find that.

Through all the crazyness, the busyness, the pain, the loss, and the scary new symptoms, I'm still alive and kicking, shooting my mouth off, and blistering the eyeballs of fatophobes everywhere.  I'd say I'm doing pretty damn good, yes?

On yelling.

Contrary to popular belief, I hate yelling.  More specifically, I hate being the one that has to do the yelling.  I used to be a big fan of yelling, back when I drank like a fish and couldn't see what a fucking train wreck I was turning into.  But now, thanks to quitting drinking, therapy, and medication, I just...don't yell.

But goddammit if two people haven't pushed me to the point of yelling this month.  And not even a shouted sentence or two, a full-on, lung-bending, blood-boiling, black-out RANT.  I don't even know what the fuck is going on with the universe right now.  This month alone, I've had to cut four people out of my life.  I'm not as into astrology as I used to be.  Are we under the star of douchebaggery or something right now?

Only one of these losses truly makes me sad.  That would be my surrogate mother-in-law, who reacted to my olive branch by alienating me in cliche form.  Yeah, the same one I wrote a love letter about a couple weeks ago.  Chosen family is only family until you're under the influence of a lie, then they're disposable family.  Oh well.  A new alpha fag has been chosen, and a new surrogate mother-in-law will come in time.

I hate that I feel such a strong need to have that sort of a relationship with someone in my life at all times.  At 30, I still don't feel like much of a grown-up.  Adult matters make me feel like Bambi on wobbly legs.  I don't need someone to baby me or to do things for me, I just want someone who's been doing this grown-up thing for awhile to be my friend and well...I guess a mentor, of sorts.

But back to yelling.  It sucks.  It makes my head hurt.  The adrenaline rush usually renders me useless for 5-10 minutes, then once it dies down, thus begins the withdrawal migraine.  I yelled last night and actually woke up with a sore throat today.  WTF?  But physical shit aside, it's just so unseemly.  It shouldn't be necessary, ever, but sadly, it is. 

I guess I should just be grateful that I've ceased being a doormat, and that I'll actually stand up for myself now.  That's major progress.  I suppose this is the inevitable backlash, though--after spending so many years of running from conflict or just trying to smooth things over, I suppose it's only natural that upon waking up, I come out roaring.



p.s.  I have a new fatkini!  Springs trip tomorrow--hopefully I'll have some pics then!