Week in Pictures

First snow of the season. Long since gone.



And Sammy. Having SO.MUCH.FUN.



Fun with packing air bags!


Decorating the family room with the solar system.



(david gray, fugitive)

Everyone's Gone Mad

Tuesday was an odd day for me. REALLY odd. I felt the whole world had gone mad and had to sit on my hands half the day in order not to completely tell everyone how mad they seemed. I mostly did ok.

One of these instances cause me GREAT pause as it surrounded what people actually think of me. Something happened and some who know me seemed surprised when it didn't involve me. It was something I found deeply offensive and just the thought of people thinking of me in conjunction hurt my core and led to an afternoon of soul searching for answers.

I understand, to some degree, the why. I spent my 20s rebelling for the sake of rebellion. Something a little edgy? Sure. Sign me up. Something completely different from the way I was raised? Absolutely! And while the rebellion for rebellion sake has gone away, I still have a healthy dose of questioning. I'm irreverent. I'm loud. I'm opinionated. Things that are convention, I purge and toss and keep what makes sense in my life. But here's the difference. I've grown up. I understand tact. I no longer kick for the sake of kicking. I realize that my past is my past and if I hold on to it as an excuse for every wrong thing in my life, it will eat me alive and not allow me happiness and growth. So, yeah. I get it. Some may see my irreverent streak and think anything goes. Some my see my loudness and think my feelings are irrelevant. But the trick is, not everything goes. Things aren't irrelevant. I've grown up and worked out my life; what is important and what I love. I've realized that not everything conventional is wrong and not everything you grew up with is evil. I grew up. I became aware.

When that was 'over', I turned to another situation involving someone I know who is doing an incredibly bone-headed thing. What do you do when you find out that someone is doing an absolutely unthinkable thing under the guise of righteousness? I mean, other than completely disregard them and anything they say from here on out? I am faced with believing this person is either a selfish coward or a liar. Neither are very pleasant. But it's a) not my place to say anything and b) would be 'put in my place' should this steamy steam of mighty words finds way to someone other than my husband. Or sister. Or best friends. But my sympathy for the situation is completely removed. My view that this person could interpret "the right thing to do" from a hole in the wall? Smashed, probably never to return. Over and over and over again, the little boy cried wolf.

And then, just when I thought the madness had peaked, yesterday I went to pick up Sammy and found him crying. I had never had such a strong urge to smack a 5 year old little girl before. But, oh. Yesterday my momma bear came out and percolated in my head mightily. I was able to check it and comfort my son, but man. Who knew those instincts were so wild and strong? And now I have to tell my son that even though she was WAY MORE WRONG that his part was also not the best choice. And he should apologize for his part. Even when I know in my heart she won't return in kind.

The world has gone mad, I swear. Topsy turvy craziness abounds. I may need a nap.


(band of skulls, i know what i am...um, thanks Sharon!)

Truth

Last weekend, Isaac asked me why I was always hesitant to tell people what my condition actually is. I gave some lame answer and the question has been in my mind since. Because I DON'T tell people. Very few know and even fewer get to know when I'm actually suffering from it.

I have fibromyalgia. And just saying that makes me sweat. And want to take it back. As if putting it in writing and hitting publish makes it any more true than not. But the truth is I know - even six years post diagnosis - what I think of people who say they have fibro. I think they are lazy and will use the diagnosis as a crutch, getting out of things they don't want to do. I think they are weak. I think they are a little bit full of it. And if I, who HAS this, think this...what will others think of me? And so I tell few and I never complain. I do things that I don't want to do while I'm hurting just to show people that I will not use this disease as a get out of jail free card. I smile through the pain (and OH! the pain is unbearable at times!) to prove that I will absolutely not let this condition rob me of my life. I call it alleged whenever I talk about it because I'm still in denial. I'm still worried that it's a "too easy" diagnosis and if they could JUST look harder, they would come up with something more real. More worthy. Not so humiliating. Something that won't bring pity and skepticism to people's eyes.

I remember standing in line in the grocery store in San Diego, shortly after I was diagnosed. I was just pregnant with the baby we lost and I was tired. Pregnancy made the fibro flare in ways I've blocked. I wanted nothing more than to go home and eat dinner and fall into bed. A woman in front of me in the long line started chatting about this and that and the conversation turned to her not being as independent as she liked because she was bedridden due to her fibro. I was not kind. I rolled my eyes at her and cut her off and said, "yeah, well, I have it too and I think you can work through it if you really want" and looked away. It took me many years to be ashamed, but ashamed I am. I had no compassion. I had no tolerance. I had nothing but disdain. And I think of that reaction every time I tell someone new. I don't want the rolling eyes. I don't want the disdain. I don't want the unbelief that what I'm going through is the most difficult thing in my world, but that is what I gave others. It would serve me right to get it ten fold back.

This is what this boils down to. I have fibro. And I hate it. I ignore it most of the time because I know what to do to keep flares to the minimum and I CAN ignore it most of the time. But that 5% that I cannot, it knocks me to my knees. Like this week. My shoulders and arms started hurting last weekend and still haven't stopped. I can't pick things up. I did laundry yesterday that brought me to tears and an early bed. My house is a disaster because I'm on strict Dr. Isaac orders to rest and get this in check after the time change. My bed isn't the refuge I need it to be until this tide turns. And - here's the kicker - no matter what goes through anyone's head about that last paragraph? It's all still true. And after six years, I think it's time to accept that.


(truth, neil finn)

Top 5 Breathe

Loud and proud, people. I love Breathe. Always have, still have songs on my car playlist...

1. Does She Love That Man: That's right. Number one. I LOVED this song the first time I heard it (on tape!) and I loved it yesterday morning blasting in my car. It speaks to the melodrama deep in my soul. Bonus! It's a Christmas song in the way Die Hard is a Christmas movie. Totally counts.


2. How Can I Fall: When I would glimpse parts of this video on our covert MTV viewings, it made me ridiculously happy. And spurred a love of vests in me.


3. Hands to Heaven: Once there was a boy named Travis. And a girl named Tawnya. And little 14 year old sparks and a dance. And this song (and, well, Richard Marx, but that's another post for another day...). Didn't everyone love this song? I think so. And if you didn't, I don't want to hear, so shuttie.


4. All This I Should Have Known: This one has endured a little better. Not that I hate any of them, but it regularly finds ways into my current playlists. Swoon!



5. Woman: My kind of cheese.


Bonus: I Hear You're Doing Fine, Say Hello, Without Your Love

Activity for the Young

Saturday, my friend Lacy and I went to a concert. It's rare that my town gets a decent concert, so we felt compelled to support the fledgling scene. We got to the door about 45 minutes early, to grab a spot in the tiny venue (the headliner is a pretty popular Utah band) and sat and chatted while the place filled. Things to note.

1. It's been a LONG time since I've seen live music in a venue that tiny. A couple hundred people packed into a space about as big as my living / dining room space.
2. We were, without a doubt, on the older side.
3. Somehow we've gone from being hit on by the young'uns to being hit on by the only 50 year old there.
4. I'm too old for headliners that don't come out until 10 pm. Seriously. (Rock...earlier, people!)
5. Fun times were had by us both. But just sitting and talking with Lacy is always fun.
6. I always seem to manage to end up sitting by the couple auditioning for the make-out scene. Sigh...

There were three support bands (gotta love the local musicians!). The first, Mermaid Baby, was...um...he had great hair. Sound-wise, I could almost see me liking random songs. But lyrically? On par with ...I don't know. A junior high creative writing class? They were very pedestrian and too poppy for my liking. Band two was Battleschool. We both liked them MUCH better. A little harder music. Sound lyrics. I wouldn't mind actually exploring and seeing if I like them still in the light of day. Next up was The Moth and The Flame, whom apparently have quite the following in Provo. They weren't bad, though they reminded both Lacy and I of someone else we couldn't quite place. I think the closest we came was a mix of Radiohead and bad Coldplay with a little Beck thrown in. And he seemed a little full of himself, for a local haven't quite made it yet guy. And they may have been the reason both Lacy and I were yawning before Fictionist made it out. They were MELLOW...

Fictionist finally hit the stage just after 10. They sadly came down on the floor (instead of the 'stage') which meant Lacy and were trying to climb on our chairs in skirts to see them. We were the picture of decorum! However, the song and quality difference? AMAZING. You can see why these guys were just signed and the others are still local and working on it. Total difference. And a lot of fun to hear live. I liked them better live than I have with anything I've just heard in snippets here and there. So still not sold as a die-hard fan, but I can definitely appreciate them more, now.

It was a good night. It was a good reminder of my once life and limitations! It was great to spend some time with Lacy, just hanging out. And I definitely wouldn't mind doing it again.


(still reaching, fictionist)