Sum Sum Summa Time

You Get in the Kitchen

My right hand must hate me at this point. More specifically, the fingers on my right hand. Remember when I chopped into my right index finger whilst opening a knife a couple of months ago? Or did I not mention that? Well, I scalded the shit out of my right middle finger, just below the nail, cooking this afternoon. It hurts like a son of a bitch. Seriously, I’d rather go through the chopping thing again than sit here and deal with this. The internet tells you to place the burn in cool water for a length of time and then to put cling film or a plastic bag on it. The cool water was fine but if I use plastic, I feel like the damn finger is on fire.

Clearly this is a sign that I should stop cooking. After all, the only reason I’d bought a nice new knife that would then be used to carve into my damned index is that I’d started to cook again. Today I was making a squid ink shrimp pasta dealie for lunch and stupidly scalded the finger. And the pasta, while good, wasn’t remarkable or worth the pain. It was basically purple pasta with some weirdly crunchy shrimp and a bit of spice. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but I won’t ask for it again.

Summer Timeeeeee!

I’m still enjoying my weekends in the country working on the house. This time we took down some sheet rock and put some up as well as took out ever more nails from walls. Oh, and on Friday night I chased the pig around because she was getting to places she shouldn’t be and no one was outside with me and I could hear the coyotes. Eventually I had to pound on the window to get the Bat and his friend to come out and help me. One wonders what the neighbors must think because I was yelling “Lucifer!” and “help!”, trying to stop Lucifer the dog from running (as it encourages the pig) whilst also hoping the Bat or his mom would hear me and come help me. And let me tell you, that little pig is much more a demon than that dog. Bitch straight up attacked Lucifer and wouldn’t let him run away. She also went after Bailey, the oldest dog in the world, which is akin to straight-lining an old person who is traveling down the sidewalk in a motorized wheelchair. Seriously, you don’t fuck with a sweet dog like Bailey who can hardly move. Even the Bat’s mom, who doesn’t like Lucifer, yelled at the pig and told her she started it and that if she went after Bailey again, she’d have the shovel coming right after her little pig behind.

Saturday was the longest day ever. The Bat was hungover and I was just dead tired so the day seemed like it was actually two separate days. The Bat and his friend had gone on a second run to Home Depot for some supplies and I’d asked Bat’s parents “it’s Saturday, right?” because for a moment I wasn’t sure. Meanwhile, the Bat referenced “yesterday” to the cashier and his friend had to say “uhm, no man, that was this morning.” But we got a lot done and the house is really coming along. One really weird thing happened though. Well, not weird but discomfitting. The Bat’s parents went to look at a tractor they are going to buy while the Bat and his friend were taking naps and I was reading. All of a sudden, shortly after they’d left, there was a knock on the door and the person just went ahead and opened the door and said “hi!!!” The Bat’s friend was actually in the living room, which has the front door, trying to sleep, so it was awkward for him and I think the people genuinely felt bad. The lady introduced herself and I recognized the name and realized it was the realtor. After getting permission from the Bat (as the only family member in attendance), I let them in to see what we had gotten done so far. When she got home, the Bat’s mother said “oh, yeah, I knew she was going to come over but I didn’t know when. I guess I should have told you.” She does that a lot, the Bat’s mom does, telling me things after the fact (like how that one burner doesn’t really work right, which I discovered after turning it on and having a mass of flames spark up).

This Friday I have a half day at work so that I can get my car taken care of and get Bubbles to the vet in preparation for our road trip to Flagstaff, Arizona. I have a feeling Friday is going to be here before I know it.

Bipolar II

I am a very type A sort of person. I always hated group work in school and I want to be in control of everything. I think that is part of why I sometimes wish I'd been born way back in the day when they would have just killed me.

Having bipolar II isn't usually an issue for me as I take my medication. Hell, I've been on this stuff or ten years now and I just throw it back every morning like vitamins. But every so often, something I hear or read will bring it all to mind and I get really upset. Even with the pills, my brain isn't normal.

I cannot tell you how much I fucking hate that. What evolutionary device allowed this to happen? Or were most people like this and it died out because it didn't work out? I want, childishly, an explanation for why my stupid brain doesn't work like it is supposed to. Because although I know I am not one, I feel, very privately, very secretly, very quietly like a freak. My brain only works as well as it does because of the pills. But pills don't fix everything so I also get to wonder what is bipolar and what is just character defect.

Not knowing fucking sucks. Maybe if I knew 100% it would be better because then I'd know what I could and could not improve. Not that it will necessarily matter. I'm sure they'll figure this shit out one day, possibly in my lifetime, but I'll be whatever age by then with however many years behind me.

It physically hurts, you know. Not having bipolar but at the moments that I remember about it and realize my brain is not my own but rather something that needs to be controlled and reigned in. It hurts in my stomach and my chest because I can't do a damned thing about it. It hurts because all of the pills I've taken all these years don't fix the problem and never will. It hurts because it is so fucking stupid. Why the fuck do these things happen to people? Bipolar, unipolar depression, schizophrenia, any mental disorder... explain it to me. Are we unevolved or are we a fucked up chance evolution took? One means I'm not as evolved as others and the other is that I'm a gamble that didn't work out. Considering that I have two older siblings, one of which got through his unipolar depression, I think the latter might hurt more.Sure, being less evolved than others would be devastating but at least I would know that evolution didn't roll the die and decide to test something out with me.

I have to think it is that my brain didn't make it, didn't make it to the point that brains do. It's like color blindness. Our rods developed before our cones and that still lingers a bit so we have people who are color blind. I assume that our brains didn't know the right amount of chemicals to release and so I'm lagging behind and have more of one and less of the other. That is embarrassing. I already can't tell all and sundry about my bipolar because we still get judged and I've suffered from being honest in the past; but to have people understand that I'm underdeveloped? Jesus.  

But, like I said, I forget about it for the most part. I don't remember what it was like before onset and I never will. This is the only way of being I know. People will ask me from time to time if bipolar people are more or less likely to do x y or z and I just think "ask someone what it is like to be a twin... they have nothing to compare it to". Because I don't. I honestly don't remember what it was like to have a normal brain, to not have to take pills, to not have to question my emotions.

And that's OK, I guess. I'm upset about it at the moment but, as I've said twice now, I generally don't think about it and don't remember about it unless I'm triggered. And no, I'm not a trigger warning person or anything like that. It just so happened that something I listened to today made me think about it and got me upset. Luckily for me, I'll get over it and be just fine. I'm always fine.

I've never been allowed to be anything other than just fine. 

Country Living

Country Life
As it is officially summer, North Texas is oven hot, leading me to avoid the outdoors as much as possible. But I discovered something very interesting the last two weekends; my tolerance and acceptance of heat seems to be regional in a way.

The Bat's parents bought a retirement property in the country and we are spending our weekends renovating and repairing it. So far, with the help of the Bat, his folks, and Housekeeper (HK), I've crawled under the house to jack it up and shim a few beams, scraped off popcorn ceilings, and pulled nails from walls and baseboards. Oh, and took off the plates of roughly 345 outlets. I also helped with the preliminary cleaning of the shop (converted barn) and enjoyed a few donuts (some performed by yours truly) in the later hours.

Oddly, when in the country, I seem to just give myself up to the fact that I am going to be hot and sweaty for the most part. I'm fine with it because it seems appropriate. It isn't comfortable or awesome or anything, but I put up with it with far more acceptance than I do when I'm home or at work. Feel the sun beating down on me as I help in the shop? No problem. Get into my car after work where I need oven mitts to grab my steering wheel? Huge attitude. I just find it very funny that if I'm in the country working on a house, I treat the heat differently.

Working on the house has been a lot of fun and I get to be proud of myself for learning new things and giving everything a chance and putting in the labor I have. It's an extremely small town with a population of less than 2,000, one restaurant, a couple of antique stores, a (new!) Walmart grocery store, and no liquor licenses (the restaurant is BYOB). These days I really like small towns, especially ones like this where there aren't strip malls. Part of it is that I like the quiet and solitude and having to make your own entertainment. I also like the lack of pressure. I've talked before about hating when people ask if I have plans for the weekend or what did I do this weekend because I end up feeling like a loser because usually I don't have plans. I feel that same sense of pressure or anxiety or whatever it is about having things available to me entertainment-wise and not taking advantage of them. I don't want to go downtown. I could and it is close and it would be OK for a special date or something but I don't want to do it regularly. I don't want to go to clubs or concerts. I would like to go to museums and gardens and the theatre but I don't, mainly because I don't have anyone to go with me. So I feel like I'm wasting the opportunities.

There aren't a lot of opportunities where the Bat's parents are going to be living so that pressure and anxiety dissipate. Save for the amount of work involved, going to the country is a lot like camping because the entire world just melts away. I probably also like it because I've read so many damned Agatha Christie novels and so have this romantic vision of country life. Don't get me wrong, I don't for one minute view the house or the area like it is a wealthy English countryside vignette circa 1945 or anything. But the minute I got there I started thinking about how awesome it would be to have a good old fashioned country murder who dunnit. Not in the house where we are, but the neighbor's. The Bat's dad and I have pretty much convinced ourselves that the neighbors are up to some shenanigans and use their barn to store stolen goods that they sell in a neighboring town in a shop that is ostensibly a beer and wine store. It's to the point that the Bat's dad actually said something like "it says a lot that I'm believing your stories. That isn't a comment on you but on me". I'm pretty sure he meant "why am I allowing myself to be drawn into her crazy?"

It will be really awkward should he meet these people in real life. It will be a special delight to me should their last name turn out to be Caddigan because that is what I've christened them.

Other Life - Briefly
In my real life, things are going well. Work is still engaging though I get annoyed at myself when I make mistakes that I think I shouldn't have. I'm not being too hard on myself as I am still new to this and my boss has a great deal of confidence in me, but I do still get a bit annoyed. I like my job and don't dread going into the office every day and I'm really glad that hasn't worn off.

The Bat and I are doing OK. I'm still wary and he's still making an effort. I really don't know if we are going to work out. Sometimes I sit and think about the fact that we don't have a great deal to talk about. When we go to dinner, we either talk to friends at the bar (if we go to the sushi bar) or end up looking at our phones and maybe discussing the Facebook page we work on. We don't talk about politics or world events because I don't think that interests him very much and we just don't, well, talk.

I also don't know 100% if this is what I want. I don't like ruminating on it too much because no one likes to ruminate about a topic that makes them uncomfortable but I'm going to have to be a big girl and do so.

Back to real life and my real job. 

Some Thoughts on the Confederate Flag

If I have been following the news correctly, South Carolina has decided to remove the confederate flag from state buildings. Some people are upset about this, as you can tell by social media. Thus far, my favorite form of complaint is a meme that essentially says "Someone shoots up a church and you want to remove the Confederate flag. People stomp on and set fire to the American Flag and you say that is their right. That is a special kind of stupid."

Actually, the special kind of stupid is that thinking. For one, the confederate flag is not at all the same as the American flag. In fact, the confederate flag is kind of the antithesis of the American flag because the American flag stands for the The United States of America whilst the confederate flag stands for the part of this country that did not want to be united. What's more, you should do your research because I'm pretty sure desecration of the American flag, even just having it on the floor, is still a crime. So, if you are going to post such a meme or status, please let me know who the "you" is that you are speaking about.

I enjoy the arguments for keeping the rebel flag flying. It honors those who fought in the war and lost their lives. Yeah, we have fucking Memorial Day for that. Oh, right, I forgot, you want something separate because you still do not want to be part of the United States. I also like when people argue that it isn't racist. The Civil War began after a long time of arguments and decisions. The catalyst was that the president of the united states wanted to make it illegal to own another human being in any way shape or form. People will tell you that it began because states wanted their sovereignty and that is correct. But part of why they didn't want the government all up in their business is because they wanted to maintain the right to own slaves. Go ahead and google it.

Do you know what my favorite part is about people who argue that we should fly that flag to honor the men who lost their lives? Nazis. Why doesn't Germany fly the Nazi flag on governmental property to remember the assoles who died trying to exterminate Jews and gays and whomever else? I mean, come on, it's part of history and shouldn't those soldiers be honored? Because they did, after all, give their lives in the name of something.

The American Civil War was won by the north, the union, but there are many southern states that have never been OK with that. I had a boss tell me about taking her kid to a school in Alabama to check out a university and when they asked about where the student union was, the person leading the tour got all puffed up and said "we do not have a union." I can't remember what it was called but the term 'union' was not OK.

The Civil War in this country was not based on one single factor but the fact of the matter is that the Civil War is and always will be, a giant reminder of the fact that white people owned slaves. I don't give a fuck what you think that stupid flag stands for, it is a humongous symbol of racism to a ton of people of all colors. And it isn't like people are just now calling to have those flags removed from government property. People have been against this flag for fucking ages but no one gave a shit and it wasn't until something truly horrific happened that the country sat up and listened.

As a sign off I will just reiterate one point; if you think we should keep the confederate flag flying because of the men who lost their lives and because of history, why not have Germany fly the nazi flag as well? Please tell me how those are different things.    

My Thoughts on Gun Control

Gun control won't work. This is my opinion only, of course, but that is how I feel. When horrific things happen like they did in Charleston and too many American cities before, that is what people yell for, gun control.

It's never going to happen. If it was guaranteed that making guns or certain types of guns illegal in this country would decrease violent crime and murder by 75% or more, the US government would have made that happen a long time ago.

2nd amendment! you cry. OK, sure. Well, it is 2015 and it is the 14th amendment that has finally granted the LGBT population to marry legally in this country. I don't know how long that amendment has been on the books and I'm not going to pretend I do. What I do know is that in my 34.5 years on this earth, the amendments have been thrown out in favor of or in disfavor of shit the entire time. But if we could cut violent crime in a major way by violating one amendment, the US government would have done it.

Our government is not stupid. No one, including me, is going to agree with every decision and there are certain things that our government and governments around the world will be responsible for that are horrible (war, poverty, hunger) but I firmly believe there is no chance the US would not have outlawed guns if they knew that would solve our murder/crime issue.

Do you know when people call for gun control? When some white person takes a gun that was either legally acquired by that person or was taken from the house where that person lived (i.e. they took a gun that was legally acquired by someone else). We don't scream for gun control every day of the week when people of all races shoot each other and kill one another. Google gun death in America and check the results.

Guns aren't, actually, the problem. Nor are people, not in the "outlaw guns and only outlaws will have them" sense.

Let's consider the bulk of people who get involved in long term criminal activity. OK, before we proceed, here is my disclaimer: people of all colors can come from horrible, shitty, impoverished circumstances and make a better life. People of all colors come from wealthy, privileged circumstances and do shitty things. The element I am speaking of is that element that is raised in poverty with no hope.

We all have hope, Simply! We all have a chance because of education and whatever else you want to throw at me. That is sort of true. You can come from a shitty home and have great teachers but if you don't have anyone at home to help and encourage you, it can be difficult.

That is part of the reason gun control will never happen in this country. The "criminal element" is mostly made up of people who have a choice of either crime, which will bring a great paycheck or non-crime which will bring shit. Children who grow up in poverty with families who grew up in poverty and either don't care or don't know how to support and encourage education are the ones that fall through the cracks. That is why it kills me that this country doesn't want to fund education more. "My kids are out of school." "I don't have kids". Bitch, who do you think will be the doctor taking care of your old ass when you are dying?

The reason gun control will never actually happen is because no one wants to focus on the real reasons. We need to have more money towards public education, not just so that we have decent teachers, but so that we can programs for after school. It is not a child's fault that his/her mother/father isn't a great, encouraging parent. No child is responsible for having an absent or negligent parent. Yet, as a society, we expect those children to take care of themselves and make the right choices and get what they need in order to be contributing members of society.

That isn't fair. You tell me, right now, that a child from the age of 5 or 6 is responsible for his/her education and all that goes with it. That is bullshit. Children do not ask to be born and it is not any boy or girl's fault that some asshole had him/her and figured that was their end of responsibility. An adult who decides to live by riding the welfare system and teaches their child to do so is the one to be angry with.

But tax payers don't want to hear that. They don't want to hear or understand that in order to bring violence down in this country, we need to bring opportunities up and that means money. We need to pump more money into PUBLIC schools and PUBLIC programs, those free programs for all kids so that they get not only an education but mentors who help them understand that no matter where they come from, they write their own stories and can be so much more. We need safe places for kids to go to where they can live and learn and just be humans. That sounds ridiculous but let's face it, even in this country, there are children who are not given any chance.

If we start there, if we start by providing education and other opportunities to kids, those kids will have actual, viable alternatives to crime. Where do you think a lot of kids learn this shit? They see older kids doing whatever on the street and they get taught. Remember those kids who would sell Now n Later or whatever at school? A lot of them were being groomed to sell drugs. Because the people they had to look up to were drug dealers.

If we had programs to help kids from every walk of life learn and improve, to help them out and find the right path (liberal art's degree, business science degree, trade school, etc) we would do a lot towards bringing down gun violence because we would be giving our children another choice.

But Americans don't want to pay for it and no politician is going to suggest raising taxes. I don't have an answer for that beyond this: I believe Senators and Congressmen make at least $200,000 a year. I make $50,000. Let's cut their salaries to match mine and start with that for this fund.

4,084

4,084
4,084 is the number of new email messages I have in one of my email accounts. I have a TON of email accounts, four personal ones that I remember the passwords to. One is the old address from when I was married (which has the thousands of messages), one is my present one, one is for a Facebook page I am an editor on, and one is for this blog so that my real name isn't attached to it because I'm so paranoid about work and personal life finding each other, making out, and then ending badly. Is that not an absurd number? Both of the number of email accounts and number of new messages in one of them? I think so. But I shall never condense them because then my worlds would collide and that cannot happen.

Weekend
I made my first Blue Apron meal on Friday, seared cod with spring vegetables and a lemon-mustard vinaigrette. It turned out well and I didn't poison either myself or the Bat so it was a win. Tomorrow I'm making steak and potatoes, which sounds simple enough but, based on the amount of prep work I did today, is more complex than you'd think. I enjoy cooking when the heavy lifting (i.e. ingredients gathering and instructions writing) is done for me. I think this service is going to work out for me and I suggested to the Bat that when we have a weekend with his parents at the new house, I change one of my deliveries to four people so I can cook for all of us. He's on board.

We did not go to the new place this weekend because stuff having to do with buying houses I don't understand. Instead, the Bat helped me change my sparkplugs, air filter, and top up some fluids. I even changed out my windshield wipers so that I can see when it rains. A bit of closing the barn doors after the horse has run out since Texas already went through its 45 days of rain, storms, and flooding, but still, there was drizzle today and it was amazing to have working wipers. It was also awesome to change out my own sparkplugs because now I know how to do it and can do it on my own so long as I have the right tools. Saves a ton of money.

Wow
Tomorrow marks four years since I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I was diagnosed after having optic neuritis when I lost almost complete vision in my right eye. I never really forget about that but J and I were emailing back and forth about stuff today and I remembered what it as like when I was going through it. I saw this fat fucking neuro-ophthalmologist who was a total dick and made me cry. I would have J drop me off for my appointments because I knew they would take forever and I didn't want him to see how hard they were for me. I'd have to sit and click a button whenever I saw or sensed a light. Well, when you can't see shit our of an eye, that is difficult. The tech would tell me to click the button even if I sensed a light but every time I blinked I'd have to spend two minutes trying to refocus to see the middle light so it was a nightmare. I'd cry almost every time, trying really hard not to because that would just make it last longer but it was so painful. Between that and having to stay still with my eye open for an optic CT or some such test, it was a horror show.

But here I am now and, for the most part, MS is just there, like my cat. Actually, I worry more about Bubbles more than I do my disease most times. The shots will always suck and I'll always be really nervous about neurology visits and MRIs but it's nowhere near what it was when I was first diagnosed.

For that I am grateful.

Hello Again

 

I'd like to say I've been busy doing busy business lady stuff but the more honest reason for why I haven't posted in a couple of weeks is because I'm boring and lazy. That's not really true either, not in my opinion, though I can be lazy. So what have I been up to?

Camping! I went to Daingerfield and had a lovely camping trip, though it was a little too hot. I got a bit sunbued and bug bitten but it was fantastic and I got to swim and eat hotdogs and all of my internal clocks reset. Camping seriously is the best. It's always fun to get out of the tent in the morning and find out what the racoons managed to get, thwarting our best intentions mainly because we forget and leave something out for them. And the pit fires at night are awesome, sitting around drinking and talking and just staring into the fire. We were there from Friday through Monday, giving us an extra day and it was so worth it. My mother no longer finds it scary that I go camping (we are town mice so she finds everything scary) but she still can't really believe how much I enjoy it.

The Bat and I are giving it another go, the whole relationship thing. A while back, he realized he had feelings for me that were stronger than he'd thought. Then, recently, I started seeing someone and the Bat decided he wanted to fight for me and wanted me to be in his life. He's been putting in a tremendous amount of effort. He's more open to talking about things, which is huge, and he compliments me and does nice things for me and just shows how much he cares for me. He even bought me fresh cut flowers! Sure, they were from the grocery store but he has a huge stance against that sort of thing, something a lot of guys say these days (they'd rather give you a plant than give you flowers). Why do grocery store flowers get such a bad wrap anyway? I buy them for myself from time to time and I think they are lovely. I don't need or want a giant bouquette and the Bat's flowers lasted for ages. Poor grocery store flowers really are treated badly.

In other Bat news, he has a live in housekeeper. He met this person through a Facebook page he and I work on and she got flooded out of her place in Oklahoma and needed some place to go to get back on her feet. So he agreed to let her stay in his guest room in exchange for her housekeeping services. It's kind of rad because when I go over now the floors and counters and things are clean and it just feels comfortable. I'm tempted to see if I can borrow her but will probably just do a really thorough cleaning of my apartment on my own. That's one of my goals for this weekend and I do mean thorough. We're talking baseboards and cleaning out cupboards and closets. I keep it fairly tidy on the reg but I want a nice deep clean in preparation for the summer.

In further Bat news (what, is this his blog or something?), his parents bought a house an hour and a half south of Dallas. It is a retirement place, which they won't need for quite some time, so it will be a vacation home for the family. The Bat is going to take care of the cosmetic renovations and things and he looks forward to taking me down there some weekends. We are going, with his parents, this weekend in order to take care of some plumbing issues and other stuff. I don't know what the other stuff is but I think I'm helping his mom with things. I'm going to put together my work outfit and am kind of stoked.

Oh! More me news! I signed up for Blue Apron, a food delivery service that sends the ingredients and recipes with step by step instructions for making said recipes. You get three meals a week for either two or four people and I signed up for the two person one because it's just for me and the Bat or, if he doesn't like it but I do, just me. I got my first delivery yesterday and look forward to cooking my first meal. They look delicious and I think it will save me money since I won't be going to the grocery store so damn much (doesn't help that I shop like a child). And it's really cool that they provide all the ingredients because my closest market doesn't have a lot of stuff. I'm really hoping it works out for me and that I enjoy the experience. If I like the recipes but decide to cancel the service, at least I'll have a nice stock of meals I know I like and can just go get the stuff myself. I'm really, really looking forward to this.

OK, that's enough. I was going to write about my job a bit but there isn't much to say other than that I enjoy it. And this post is long enough as it is so let's just leave it.