Thankfully I was able to eat a decent meal today, so my stomach isn’t empty for once. Unfortunately, my creative juices are dried up. Nadda. This is the part about meds that sucks…compliance issues. I really, really know I need them. But at the current moment I hate them, despise my current restrictions. I am not idiotic enough to stop but it is tempting. Knowing once I reach my “ideal” level I’ll be fine and creativity will be back into the picture is all that keeps me downing the damn things.

So, my kit will be finished tomorrow night. Technically on the first. I’d attempt to finish it now but I need some sleep seeing as how tomorrow is the busiest day of the office. But…it will get done, dammit.

And on a completely different note, but something that’s been bugging the crap outta me lately. Fickle people really press my buttons. Is it so difficult to follow through with a project?! To start something and oh, I dunno, hang around and complete it? I’m running into a lot of this in the digital scrapbooking world and it’s just…irritating me. I don’t let it get to me enough to where it causes heart burn, but it does bother me to see such capricious ones idolized.

Holy crap, eight hours to finish this kit and yet I’m on here typing. And have to make a trip to the store, and then a walk. The whole Design Team responsibilties for another site are just a scary thought so I’m really just trying to ignore those reminders.

Once again, I take on too much I can handle. Like I know any other way to live.

I still look forward to Sunday and the newest uploads at Post Secret. As a self-described people watcher, it’s always interesting to see what people send in, to read what others consider such unspeakable secrets.

This one caught my attention more than the others:

“I Don’t like it when my husband looks in my eyes when we have sex. He might see my secret“

For years I couldn’t look people in the eyes, and for similar reasons as on the postcard. I’ve always had a strong handshake, something Grandma Hansen insisted upon when she spoke of her travels, when she asked me if I had any boyfriends (at age 12 even). “A real man will have a strong handshake. No matter his age, if it is weak, he is just a boy.” Yet when she used to tell me to look in their eyes, smile, and shake their hands, I’d smile, and glance away.

The double-life bit I lived growing up had me weary, reluctant to be me, the one who didn’t give a crap about God’s word, the one who never stopped asking questions, the crazy girl who just wanted to have fun. I used to dream of traveling like my Grandma, being free, but I held back, I played the shy one for a while.

At some point I started losening up, just put myself out there, began looking at people. I found not only did I love the feeling of smiling, of meeting others, I was intrigued. I discovered how much eyes really disclosed, and I loved it, wanted more, searched.

Possibly a reason why I am so fascinated with mouths and eyes when I’m drawing? Perhaps.

Interesting how a simple postcard can send me into retrospect. I actually like it, kinda fun, especially knowing I’m still young and in another ten and twenty years my reflections will include much more.

Tonight’s walk felt so good I just kept walking. Instead of my usual two-mile circle, I took twice as long, wrapped around the regular sidewalks, took a detour onto another path, and continued, only returning home because light was fading. Not as many out jogging and walking, most likely from the heat, but it was a perfect temperature for me. I can’t help it, love feeling the heat on my skin, a slight wind in the air, and the swish swish of my ponytail.

Music was playing in my ears as always, but I spent a lot of time watching the sky. Clear for the most part, and save the humidity haze, there were two bursts of white puffy clouds I couldn’t ignore. They were like my own Rorschach ink blots, something new each time I took a moment to look at them. First, I saw Thor (talk about random), then a kneeling woman, then a weeping willow, a pile of blankets, a mushroom cloud (as in BOOM), and many other odd items. Quite entertaining but eventually my neck muscles grew tired.

Perhaps I’ll get another walk in tomorrow, though all is depending entirely on my ability to finish my work tonight.

On with the positive mood, it looks like D may make it down here in September. At least she’s going to try! I miss our trips to Tri-cities for the Hydros, so we’re planning on hitting the Hydro races in San Diego if all goes well. It’s been too long since I’ve seen that lady. Way too long to be away from my partner in crime. Heh.

This is where I am thankful my desktop is under the desk and difficult to access so I’m unable to throw the fucking thing out the window.

Granted, I know it’s not MY computer, but still, something I DID. New kit due in a couple days and my *&(@*#&%($! store is broken.

Soon as it cools to 85 or so I’m going for a walk. Gotta pull away from the stress. Sheeesh.

UPDATED: All better. Now excuse me while I finally go attempt to eat lunch.

I love technology and my ability to run Cashew Style online, sell my products, and all that good stuff. But man, do I hate waking up on a Saturday morning and having to deal with expired links and cart issues gone apeshit. Bah. Frustrating that my customers have to deal with anything out of the norm.

Looks like I’m upgrading the cart today, seeing as how I can only put that off for so long. I might get out and enjoy the sun today if I’m lucky. Phhfft.

Well dagnabbit all, that last entry was way too serious for someone who’s in a good and playful mood this Friday night. Sometimes those tangents just have a life of their own. If only I could put this energy into cleaning up the place.

A couple papers have been completed, I’ve installed EE for a client, and even made plans to do some coding for another client. So, busy busy weekend, but just the kind of busy I like. Silly me, gets excited at the thought of playing with some code tomorrow.

Been a while since I’ve listened to this Bryan Adams CD…pleasant memories of course.

I came home this evening, craving a real meal, some food of substance, but my first bite sent me reeling, flinging myself onto my bed, fists pounding the pillows. My meals this last week have consisted of enticing items such as Slim-fast, chicken noodle soup, ramen, and I think the most complex yet, coffee cake. I am so very hungry. It’s one thing to try to eat healthy, and this is anything but. After having the best lab results last month (first time iron hasn’t been insufficient in…years), I feel my body deflating. Endorphins can only carry me so far.

This seems to explain why I was so whacked out earlier today, but then I don’t claim to know diddlysquat medically. I was so out of it today even the new receptionist could tell something was off. She commented on how quiet I was…very unusual for me apparently. Well, it was either deal with the sudden spasms of pain every thirty minutes or so, or pop the ibu, and honestly, I’d rather deal with the pain than the upset stomach or nagging wonder if I’ll become hooked on the little suckers.

Another moment, another thought process. And yes, I’m putting off working on my designs even though I am quite aware I need to do them.

I’m not sure why, but Tivo recorded this Intervention show on A&E. So, I’m watching it, about these two guys who are addicted to drugs, any form, and I am so grateful I never got hooked on alcohol…or drugs. That…I never self-medicated myself that much. Yes, I did some, damn the alcohol, the sex, the retail therapy. I was about to say at least never to the point where I was doing stupid things in order to receive the current vice, but I can’t help but hesitate on that one. My weekends with D and drinking affected my finances, had me scrambling to pay rent and bills and struggling to survive the extensive hours of my job.

I know overall I can’t stand the feeling of being out of control, yet I had to reluctantly agree with someone who recently said maybe I enjoyed it. To some extent, yes. The perfectionist and organizational freak in me cringes when surrounded by chaos, but a part of me feeds off it it, thrives on the thrill of the momentary freedom from conformity. Always returning to the familiar, the release is temorarily welcome.

I did make a card for my dad earlier. Wrote a touchy-feel type of letter in there, more like a diary entry. Lines filled with reflections of how difficult it must have been for him with us three girls, my two older sisters, and then wham, eight years later, along came this spitfire of defiance, myself. I mention how I can look back and remember the crazy times, but I recognize them. I see them in my days now, and yet I recall so vividly our bus trips to the baseball games, the Albertson’s chicken at Green Lake, and silly times dancing to The Moog and Danny Kaye records.

It’s one of those letters I may never send, but it felt good to write, to get out of this jumbled up system of mine. I used to look at myself in the mirror and feel a hatred toward my dad, as I saw my anger I displayed so often and blamed it on him, on our common place battles of temper and volume over the years. I recall how I used to think it odd, his dislike for alcohol, the bottle of wine my parents received for their 25th anniversary sitting in the fridge for months. And then the morning after the trip to the hospital with Jeremie and Donilyn (and Karl?), after I had slipped into the oh so damaging hymomania because I’d “forgotten” my meds, invincible and in the sky, vaguely remember telling them I needed help and begging them to take me to the hospital….and waking up, suddenly understanding completely why my dad didn’t touch alcohol.

Ashleigh may be in Texas, but she’s on my mind each day, she’s who I consider when I force myself to swallow the lithium. My dad is a completely different man now that he’s received help and I love him for his ability to swallow the same pride I carry. I wake up each day and am comfortable knowing I’m doing what I can, and fuck it if it takes time.

I am thankful for my ability to keep fighting, for my desire to succeed, and the determination to get there (eventually). Even when I’m complaining of pain, whining about arthritis, my lack of creativity, or pondering my current self-induced dilemma’s, it’s all on me. I get upset, get sidetracked by many things, but I don’t regret a damn thing I’ve done (or will do).

Now that I’ve randomly spouted enough reflections to last a year, I’m going to engulf myeslf in music and creating.

Welcome to my hide away, my secret place
How I arrived I can’t explain
You’re welcome to, if you want to stay
But everyone just runs away
-A Secret Place, Megadeth

Something is up…or down. Or just not right. I’m feeling disoriented, and when talking to others…I feel distant, my voice is soft, quiet, definitely not my usual. Edgy but…not.

I slept extremely well, feel very rested, not tired at all, but this is odd. Perhaps some chicken noodle soup and a nap for lunch will do me some good.

Augh, itchy.

Looks like I’m stuck with a mint mocha and coffee cake for dinner. Any further attempt has brought the not so welcomed pain back, therefore soft stuff it is. If only I had remembered to pick up some juice tonight so I could enjoy my fruit smoothie in the morn. Eh. Put clothes on…smoothie…clothes….smoothie…screw it. Another day.

I should sleep very well tonight, heading there shortly, soon as my mind and body settle down. I’ve been dancing around the place for some time but instead of wearing me out I’m quite hyped up. Mmm, perhaps I’ll get home early enough tomorrow to enjoy a walk for once. Been a few weeks since I’ve done that and I miss the hour or so engulfed in my private world.

I spoke with my mom earlier, and as always she sighed…a sound I’m used to when talking with her. I told her not to worry about me, and I really do mean it. Obviously, she’s a mother, worrying is what she does best, but I can take care of myself and she’s figured that one out over the years. I’m not clueless. If I were one for basing my decisions and actions on what was “right” I’d still be in North Seattle unaware of the world and unhappy. The times I’ve been wrong or haven’t made the right move, eh, I learn, move on and add it to the White Board of lessons. Of course, it is highly possible I don’t refer to my hypothetical white board often enough. (Most memorable from D & A experiences “tell em to go home and buy flowers for your wife”, “no shiny shirt guys”, and “freaks are attracted to bright yellow”).

Anywho, eh, not much of substance tonight, just recap and rocking chairs on the porch memories. Perhaps my mind will cooperate tomorrow.

Extra strength Ambesol is an awesome, awesome thing, even with the drooling. But I’m not looking forward to the Vicodin upset stomach feeling…sooo…instead nixing that and enjoying a good Absolut and cran. A light drink (no Jack, what a shame), but with a double shot (or so), should help at least get this restless woman to sleep before 2AM if I’m lucky. What a change, from enjoying a minimum of five drinks with Donilyn to now having to talk myself into having one. Interesting what five years will do to ya.

Only a couple papers designed tonight. Creative mojo is in hiding. Lovely. I’m aware I work well under pressure (heh) but the desire to design isn’t even in existence as of late. Fizzled out.

Wish I had a pool to go swim in…or something more than my wimpy 10 pound weights. I love the feeling after a good swim or workout…miss it. It’s like walking up a steep hill, feeling my legs working, my calves tightening. What a rush.

Sigh. Drink has kicked in, I’m relaxed, time go enjoy the cool a/c air and finally snuggle with my comforter.

interesting,
the way life seems
imbalanced
yet each day
an ounce of stability
exists,
prior survival
a reality.

Yet another person has discovered my bipolar and I found it quite humorous. I really don’t care, as I don’t work with her directly, she just resides in the office, but I do like to be there when they find out as the immediate reaction/expression is the best way to feel a person. She just didn’t know what to think when I mentioned I’d only been on meds for a short while. heh. Some people, so predictable it’s just too easy.

On to the other subject of the week…this pain I’m feeling in waves, which usually comes on as sudden as well…a car accident. I’ve discovered an awesome way to manage the pain. Instead of letting it overtake me and squeezing my eyes shut while I pound the bed and yell fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck until it passes (ie: last night), I’ve managed to redirect the pain into something quiet pleasurable. I just close my eyes, take a few deep breathes and I can feel it wash over me…feel engulfed…and very good, near orgasm. Gah…completely drained afterward, lacking in energy, but that’s okay. Really. This was of course discovered in the dentist’s chair this morning as I couldn’t exactly throw my hissyfit I usually reserve to the privacy of my room.

Not that I’m neglecting the pleasure department lately, not at all, but this extra knowledge of myself and one more way to cope has to be one of the most beneficial tidbits in a while.

No major pain at the moment but the overwhelming desire to go home and sleep is lurking around me. I’m aware not everyone really cares about my pain updates, but it’s more of a way for me get it out of my system somehow.

The plan is a root canal on August 10th and I now get to perfect the talent of pulling $975 out of my ass. It’ll work out, things always do, but sheeeesh, a shame I don’t have a first-born son to offer up.

A shot of Jack sounds heavenly right now.

It’s quite amazing how beneficial sleep is to a soul. Especially after a refreshing evening of play.

I head to the endodontist in a couple hours and am doing better pain wise than I imagined I would be sans pain killers. Actually feeling somewhat out of it this morning…not foggy as usual, but like I’m missing something. Seems extremely quiet, not as many cars in the parking lot, office is silent, and even the freeway was wide open this morning.

As good as I’m feeling, I’d much rather be in bed snuggling with my pillows and comforter.

Aaaah, playlist tonight is a mix of upbeat country and some Collective Soul. Always beneficial to have the good music going while attempting to create.

After a couple hours of distraction from the pain, I’m back to the dull feeling, but I’ll manage. Also listening to some Bradbury Press seeing as how this kit is inspired by the band.

Of course, this is all on the assumption that I don’t decide to crawl into bed and venture into lalaland in the near future.

I do believe this is taking tolerance to a whole new level.

Vicodin…did nothing. In fact, it ENHANCED my pain, cause my gums to feel like they were being poked with needles, in addition to the sharp painrs and overall feeling of just getting smacked in the jaw.

I’m not exactly sure how to feel about this, but I’m back to the ibu every couple hours. This sucks.

In other news…I’m still in a relatively good mood, despite all the pain and discomforts. I did manage to get seven hours sleep, a record as of late.

Yes, to those who have inquired, I AM working on a new design for this domain. YES, I realize it’s been two…maybe three years since the this current design was implimented.

I had originally hired someone to redesign, as I figured it’d be too much time/hassle for me to do it myself. Unfortunately, I’ve had issues with the designer and am STILL trying to get my money back which I paid in January. Give me a good day to whip up the CSS and I’ll have it in action. More related to the name of the domain (niftyfingers) and my love of anthropology and osteology, all combined in one shabang.

Of course, after I finish my client’s site. I haven’t forgotten you my lady.

And leave it to Johnnie to say it like it is: A Few Sluts Would be Better Than 72 Virgins

(and finally going to bed, really)

I’ve now some Vicodin and Amoxicillin for my tooth. Fun. I really hate eating when I’m not hungry, but the last thing I need is Vicodin on an empty stomach. Toss in the Lithium…and it’s a good thing I rarely drink these days. Either way, I feel like I could hurl, downing four different pills (itty bitty bc in the mix, too).

Off to drink my obligatory bottle of water then heading to bed. Tomorrow should be an exhilarating day.

UPDATED: That took a complete hour to kick in. Wow.

I can not get the song “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra out of my head.

That sly come-hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It’s witchcraft

Killing me. Just killing me, here.

One of these days I’ll learn to just keep my mouth shut. Maybe. Just maybe I’ll figure it out.

On a completely different note, I made it to a dentist this morning and walked out with a prescription for antibiotics and for vicodin, so once I leave work I’ll doing just spiffy. I imagine these shouldn’t conflict with my lithium as I told the dentist twice what I was on. I know I can’t take my Celebrex anymore but maybe these will work well. Obviously if I’m not well, I’ll find out.

The new receptionist is working out just fine and for the first time in weeks I’m not required to help answer the phone. There’s the compulsion to pick up the line when it rings but eventually I’ll stop twitching at the sound.

Oh hey…even put my plates on last night. Only because the wonderful officer gave me a ticket and instructed me to do so. Nearly forgot even, but didn’t want to deal with the kidding wrath of coworkers.

Considering the crappy weekend I’m feeling really good today, feeling quite sexy, and definitely, having an awesome boob day.