2011 and the Light-bulb of our Future...
15 years ago
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
What Is CMP?
I originally posted this on my facebook page, but I'm slowly weaning myself from that site. I hope to reach a larger audience here.
If anyone has ever lifted weights in high school, run two or three miles too many or been involved in competitive sports, you know the "pain of stiffness" ..... That is what we deal with. We walk like elderly people, wake up every time we roll over, swell in random areas of our bodies and fall into a fog that makes the simplest of decisions insurmountable.
Welcome to CMP
CMP, or Chronic Myofascial Pain is a neuromuscular disorder, affecting the muscles and fascia directly. What is fascia? It's that transparent "skin" we have over our muscles and organs (think about that thin skin you see on chicken breast... that stuff). It runs throughout our bodies, both just under the skin and deep within, over our organs and tissues. It's everywhere. So imagine that when something goes wrong with this, it affects your whole being. There is not one area you can point to and say, "It hurts here." It hurts. It hurts everywhere.
CMP is not Fybromyalsia. Please just take a moment and let that sink in. They are two different things completely. One is a disease (CMP) while the other is a syndrome (FMS). If you'd like to understand the difference, please take a moment to google it. I'll wait.
*elevator music*
Done? Okay....
What we do know about CMP is that it is caused by Trigger Points. You can press on one area of our bodies and we feel pain in another (that's the "referred pain" point). Pain can be triggered throughout the body by hitting one of those points, by stress, by too much cold, too much heat, not enough sleep, sleeping in a weird position, sitting in one position for too long, too much physical activity not enough physical activity, and a change in the weather, just to name a few.
What happens around the trigger point is interesting too (if chronic pain can be classified as "interesting"). Think of a weight lifter. What do they do when they are training? They work one muscle to the point of exhaustion. When it reaches that point, the muscle relaxes, unable to do any more. With CMP, a muscle or muscle group will tighten, and continue to tighten, until it's rock-hard. It does not relax. Ever. I have hard lumps in various places all over my body, but mostly in my shoulders, back and arms. An overworked muscles cannot breath. It's starving for oxygen and is releasing toxins.
As far as the fascia goes, to put it in the simplest of terms, it's "sticky." No, it's not supposed to be sticky, but it is. So we have the equivilant of inner skin sticking to our muscles, organs and tissue, which are completely bound up, and no hope for any real relief. Toxins continue to build up, wearing us down.
Chronic pain is something I live with every day of my life. It is not who I am. It does not define me or my personality. Sometimes I "push through" in spite of the pain, and then I pay for it the next day. Sometimes I'm really careful and I pay anyway. Those are the days I spend in bed. It's impossible to explain to those who do not live with chronic pain how deeply it affects your life. Walking my son to the other side of the apartment complex and watching him slide down the slides, then walking him back is enough to send me to bed for the rest of the day. I have to break up my house cleaning into very small, managable portions. I can do the dishes, I can sweep and vacuum, I can clean the bathrooms, or I an cook dinner. I just can't do it all in the same day.
Emotionally, I think, it takes its greatest toll. It's easy to believe the voice in your head telling you how weak you are; telling you how useless you've become and telling you to take up a nice hobby, like reading sappy love novellas. Without a strong support system, CMP and chronic pain can become truly unmanagable.
Sometimes the pain causes me to fall into a mental fog. I don't remember people's names like I should. I forget appointments (thank the gods for smart phones and their ability to set reminders for EVERYTHING!), and much to my horror, I sometimes forget the simplist of words. ("You know... that thing you use in the kitchen... it flips things over!!! YOU KNOW!!)
Yes, I yell sometimes. I'm sure it looks like I'm angry at the people around me, when in truth I'm frustrated and hurting. I hate it when I yell... I do. But that's when I know it's time for me to go sleep for a while...
There are meds out there to help manage the pain. I haven't been on them for almost a year now. I don't know how I function half the time, but like I said, this would be absolutely unbearable w/o an amazing support system, which I have in my husband and children. Without them, I would be lost.
So to those who suffer from chronic pain, I feel your pain. Not YOUR pain, exactly, but I do relate. You are not alone. And for those who don't, do not feel sorry for us. Do not feel guilty and do not take our anxiety (ahhh...another symptom I forgot) as your own. All we need from you is a little understanding when we don't get things done as quickly as we should, a little patience when we can't think of a word or worse, your name, and a little help when we can't clean the house or meet up with you for lunch like we promised we would.
Thank you all, for your love and support.
So I'm Blog-Hopping
I'm not very blog savvy... but a friend is doing this and I thought I'd give it a try
Step one: I'm supposed to put this link in my post somewhere - http://www.bloodandmagickseries.com
Okay...done. Now I have to go fill out a form. Be right back.
Well that was fairly painless... Feel free to join in! What is it supposed to do? I'm not sure, exactly. Something about bringing more traffic to your blog. Let's see if it works. I'll be posting a "real" blog later.
Step one: I'm supposed to put this link in my post somewhere - http://www.bloodandmagickseries.com
Okay...done. Now I have to go fill out a form. Be right back.
*cues hold music*
Still here? Groovy....
Ok, now I get to enter the html code:
Still here? Groovy....
Ok, now I get to enter the html code:
Well that was fairly painless... Feel free to join in! What is it supposed to do? I'm not sure, exactly. Something about bringing more traffic to your blog. Let's see if it works. I'll be posting a "real" blog later.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Hulk Hogan and American Heros
September 11, 2001
We all remember where we were; what we were doing; how we felt. Many of us lost loved ones that day, but even those who didn't, felt like America had been cut off at the knees. The silent whisper of "We Shall Never Forget" has been echoing for ten years now.
If you think this is another sappy, feel-good blog about 9/11, think again. I did nothing special to commemorate that day, as I have done nothing special for the past 9 years (I did light a candle on the first anniversary) except to reflect quietly for a few moments here and there throughout the day.
I saw Facebook littered with, "Where were you?" posts and their responses. I didn't read any of them. I've said it so many times, where I was, how I was feeling, that I didn't feel the need to say it one more time. And I didn't necessarily feel the need to read where others were or what they were doing when the towers fell. This is not to belittle or diminish others' grief in any way, of course. I just didn't personally feel the need.
One post, however, did catch my eye. It was a link to a youtube video. The title of the video is, "Hulk Hogan Attacks World Trade Center!!!" and without much of a thought either positive, or negative, I clicked the link.
Warning: The following video may completely disgust and anger you. Click and view at your own risk.
I'm not sure which is more offensive, the supposed "levity" of the video, or the fact that it is so poorly done, to say that it is a complete piece of shit is such an understatement, that I might as well say, "Water is wet." That's what I get for being married to a video/special effects guy.
The "Facebook Friend" that posted this video is known for his controversial posts, but in nearly every case, save this one, I've actually enjoyed what he's had to say. I commented under his post that I found this video to be distasteful, to say the least. His response was disturbing. He basically said that people need to "get over it" .... it's been 10 years.... move on already.
I don't even know how to begin to respond to that.
He also claimed that stuff like this happens in "several middle-eastern countries on a daily basis."
Let me give you a few facts from 9/11, and then tell me again, with a straight face, that this happens in several middle-eastern countries on a daily basis:
Total number killed in attacks (official figure as of 9/5/02): 2,819
Number of firefighters and paramedics killed: 343
Number of NYPD officers: 23
Number of Port Authority police officers: 37
Number of WTC companies that lost people: 60
Number of employees who died in Tower One: 1,402
Number of employees who died in Tower Two: 614
Number of employees lost at Cantor Fitzgerald: 658
Number of U.S. troops killed in Operation Enduring Freedom: 22
Number of nations whose citizens were killed in attacks: 115
Ratio of men to women who died: 3:1
Age of the greatest number who died: between 35 and 39
Bodies found "intact": 289
Body parts found: 19,858
Number of families who got no remains: 1,717
(taken from http://nymag.com)
Hell, tell me with a straight face that any of that has taken place once in any middle-eastern country, and I'll come lick your boots.
So to the dick-wad who created that video: You can keep your followers who actually gave you a thumbs-up on it and then left comments like, "Hulk hogan we're coming for you nigga," and "ME TOO BORTHER! ALL THE HULKAMANIACS NEED TO GET TOGETHER AND RUN WILD ON ALL THESE LITTLE PANSIES CRYING ABOUT THE PAST!" [sic], I say to you, fuck off, you third grade, wannabe gangsta pieces of shit. Go get a high school diploma and grow the hell up.
We all remember where we were; what we were doing; how we felt. Many of us lost loved ones that day, but even those who didn't, felt like America had been cut off at the knees. The silent whisper of "We Shall Never Forget" has been echoing for ten years now.
If you think this is another sappy, feel-good blog about 9/11, think again. I did nothing special to commemorate that day, as I have done nothing special for the past 9 years (I did light a candle on the first anniversary) except to reflect quietly for a few moments here and there throughout the day.
I saw Facebook littered with, "Where were you?" posts and their responses. I didn't read any of them. I've said it so many times, where I was, how I was feeling, that I didn't feel the need to say it one more time. And I didn't necessarily feel the need to read where others were or what they were doing when the towers fell. This is not to belittle or diminish others' grief in any way, of course. I just didn't personally feel the need.
One post, however, did catch my eye. It was a link to a youtube video. The title of the video is, "Hulk Hogan Attacks World Trade Center!!!" and without much of a thought either positive, or negative, I clicked the link.
Warning: The following video may completely disgust and anger you. Click and view at your own risk.
I'm not sure which is more offensive, the supposed "levity" of the video, or the fact that it is so poorly done, to say that it is a complete piece of shit is such an understatement, that I might as well say, "Water is wet." That's what I get for being married to a video/special effects guy.
The "Facebook Friend" that posted this video is known for his controversial posts, but in nearly every case, save this one, I've actually enjoyed what he's had to say. I commented under his post that I found this video to be distasteful, to say the least. His response was disturbing. He basically said that people need to "get over it" .... it's been 10 years.... move on already.
I don't even know how to begin to respond to that.
He also claimed that stuff like this happens in "several middle-eastern countries on a daily basis."
Let me give you a few facts from 9/11, and then tell me again, with a straight face, that this happens in several middle-eastern countries on a daily basis:
(taken from http://nymag.com)
Hell, tell me with a straight face that any of that has taken place once in any middle-eastern country, and I'll come lick your boots.
So to the dick-wad who created that video: You can keep your followers who actually gave you a thumbs-up on it and then left comments like, "Hulk hogan we're coming for you nigga," and "ME TOO BORTHER! ALL THE HULKAMANIACS NEED TO GET TOGETHER AND RUN WILD ON ALL THESE LITTLE PANSIES CRYING ABOUT THE PAST!" [sic], I say to you, fuck off, you third grade, wannabe gangsta pieces of shit. Go get a high school diploma and grow the hell up.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Beyond Healing, Or Beyond Belief?
Last week on the Sacred Division Radio Show, Bishop James Long welcomed guest John Lucas, who apparently claims he can heal any pain instantaneously.
Well, sort of.
Mr. Lucas made a rather big show of repeating over and over, "I make no claims. I am not a healer." What did he claim? It was difficult to pin him down on that little detail, but he used the words, "deletion" "protocols" and "quantum" a lot.
I had the honor of being the first caller to the show. I really didn't believe for a moment he could heal me of my chronic pain (diagnosed CMP, possible undiagnosed FMS), but apparently belief on my part was not required (unlike in the case of most faith healers). John, (may I call him John?) said he "erased" pain via quantum physics. When pressed for more details, he rattled off something or other about his fingers and flicking and... I don't know, it was all very difficult to follow and he was very good at something bordering on doublespeak.
So what, exactly, did happen that night? Great question. I called in, and told him that I was diagnosed with CMP, which is Chronic Myofascial Pain, and that I dealt with pain on a daily basis. Before I could even complete my first thought or sentence, he was interrupting me with a series of rapid-fire questions. While the following discourse is not verbatim, it's darn close.
Are you in pain now? (Yes) Where was the pain? (All over, I can't pin-point it to one area) Are you in pain now? (Yes, I'm always in pain) Where does it hurt the most? (It's difficult to describe, because it's not localized. If I had to point to one area, I'd have to say my back and neck) But you're in pain now? (Yes)
He then proceeded to mumble a bit. Something about, "Let me try this." And then 4 or 5 seconds later, "How do you feel now?"
Me: About the same.
John: (more mumbling) And now?
Me: Truthfully, I feel some warmth and (I test my neck by bending it forward, chin touching chest) there was some pain at the very top of my neck, at the base of my skull. That appears to be gone. But the rest of my body feels about the same
John: (mumble mumble) And now?
Me: (honestly trying here) Uhm, yeah... about the same.
John: Well sometimes these things take more than a day to fully manifest. See how you feel over the next couple of hours and days. (man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that excuse in the faith healing circles, I'd be a rich woman... except I probably would have spent it all already, on yahoos like this guy)
Bishop Long: Anna Marie, would you be willing to call back later in the show and give us an update?
Me: Absolutely
The rest of the show consisted of people calling in, claiming the same warmth I had felt, and then being amazed that their pain was gone. Even Bishop Long, who had the beginning of a headache, was amazed when the pain melted away.
Now, as some of you know, I spent a good number of years in the Word of Faith/Evangelical World. I, myself, had the apparent ability to "heal" people of simple things like headaches and "emotional and spiritual" issues. How was this possible? I believe it was the power of suggestion, more than anything supernatural.
How was John able to remove pain from the listeners? Again, I think it boils down to power of suggestion, more than anything.
Toward the end of his interview, I called back in and gave an update. I reported that the pain at the top of my neck was still gone, but that the rest of me still hurt. John said that I should wait a couple more days, and suggested that the pain might dissipate over the coming days, or even weeks. In the mean time, I had looked up his prices from his website and to coin a Utah phrase, Holy Heck! Now I have absolutely zero issue with people charging for their services. Doctors charge for theirs. Nail techs charge for theirs. I am a tarot reader, I charge for mine, and I know a good many excellent psychics who charge (as well they should) for their services too. Our time is money, as they say, and that is basically what you're charging for, in addition to the service.
But again I say, Holy Heck! This guy's fees, based on the amount of time he spends per person offering said "service" roughly equates to $3840 per hour. And that's on the low end. His cheapest "protocol" is $320. Based on the fact he spent maybe 45 seconds with each guest on the call, I think I'm being more than generous in saying he might spend a whopping five minutes with you on the phone. His most expensive service? $33,000. No, that is not a typo.
But while on the phone with him this second time, I was attempting to discuss his pricing system with him. He jumped down my throat and insinuated that I was asking him to offer his services to me for free. The thought had not even crossed my mind. There was more I wanted to discuss with him, but he wouldn't let me speak. I was constantly interrupted so I finally manged to squeeze in, "John, John," (had to get his attention), "It's obvious I'm not going to get a word in edge-wise, so I thank you for your time. Have a wonderful evening." He laughed at this and after I hung up, continued to defend his position on not giving his service out for free. Again, I never asked or even insinuated that I wanted hispseudo-healing "deletion" service for free. He jumped to that conclusion all on his own.
Now here's the kicker. Not everyone was healed (he even did a "mass healing" of everyone in the chatroom... no one claimed to feel better after that). All those that called in, with the exception of ONE person "lost" their "deletion" with 24 to 48 hours. In other words, the pain came back, in most cases, within hours of the show. Thank goodness we didn't pay him. As to the one who still claims no pain five days later, she had back and hip pain. She said it "melted away" and hasn't returned. She is the only one I can find who still has no pain after said "deletion."
John was proudly claiming a 99% success rate on the show that night (I was the 1%, but then I'm always that 1%. It's my lot in life). From what I can gather, based on my subsequent follow-up of those in the room, he actually had a 1% success rate, not failure rate. Stick that in your pain pill and ... uhm... swallow it.
Here are some quotes from those who initially claimed healing:
Even Bishop Long told me that while he was initially shocked to realize his headache was gone, by the time he took his co-host home, his headache was coming back. He had to take his migraine meds in order to stave it off.
So, having clearly established this guy is a hack, let me point out a couple other things from his website: Aside from charging ridiculous fees (to which he kept responding that he drove an '89 car.... and?? that just means no one is buying into his load of crap), he also insists on cash only. That's right. No PayPal, no checks, no credit cards, no paper trail. I wonder if the IRS knows about his little hobby.
No refunds after services are performed, though he claims he will return your cash if you change your mind before said services take place. *smacky lips noise* Yeah.
He also has a fairly complex set of rules regarding contacting him. They involve a series of steps with email, voice mail messages, a slide ruler and an abacus. Good luck.
What he claims he can do (from his Bio page): After 30 years in the so-called Wholistic or Natural Health Field I have developed an ability and a system using the laws of physics, intention and non-contact muscle testing to access anyone or groups of people anywhere in the world and delete the frequency or energy cause of any problem they may have whether physical, mental or emotional. This includes and is not limited to virus, bacterial infections, fibromyalgia, post traumatic stress syndrome, pain of injuries, migraines, etc. The results are generally instant and immediately verified by the person being treated.
Then turns around on his "Disclaimer page" and says: The protocols listed on this web address and/or any other protocols are not meant to nor do they claim to treat, mitigate, cure, diagnose or in any way refer to or access in anyway any disease or treatment of disease or disease processes, injuries, damage, symptoms of any kind, allergies or anything or any physical, mental, psychological, or emotional problems of an kind or any such thing or anything which in any way should, could be, or might be considered to be diagnosed or treated in any way by a physician or therapist of any kind anywhere or at any time. This is and only is a deletion of possible frequencies using distance-non-touch methods and a suggested possible input of harmonious frequencies for a possible harmonic or harmonious response claim made only by the individual or individuals receiving such possible frequency deletion and/or input in/at a non-physical/non-biological format or level. An individual or individual or individuals who require, or think, or believe that they require, or who have been advised by their advisors should seek any required, recommended, or desired care of their professional whether medical, dental, psychological, emotional or otherwise.
So, can ya do it, or not? I'm a little confused.
Oh wait... right. Not.
Well, sort of.
Mr. Lucas made a rather big show of repeating over and over, "I make no claims. I am not a healer." What did he claim? It was difficult to pin him down on that little detail, but he used the words, "deletion" "protocols" and "quantum" a lot.
I had the honor of being the first caller to the show. I really didn't believe for a moment he could heal me of my chronic pain (diagnosed CMP, possible undiagnosed FMS), but apparently belief on my part was not required (unlike in the case of most faith healers). John, (may I call him John?) said he "erased" pain via quantum physics. When pressed for more details, he rattled off something or other about his fingers and flicking and... I don't know, it was all very difficult to follow and he was very good at something bordering on doublespeak.
So what, exactly, did happen that night? Great question. I called in, and told him that I was diagnosed with CMP, which is Chronic Myofascial Pain, and that I dealt with pain on a daily basis. Before I could even complete my first thought or sentence, he was interrupting me with a series of rapid-fire questions. While the following discourse is not verbatim, it's darn close.
Are you in pain now? (Yes) Where was the pain? (All over, I can't pin-point it to one area) Are you in pain now? (Yes, I'm always in pain) Where does it hurt the most? (It's difficult to describe, because it's not localized. If I had to point to one area, I'd have to say my back and neck) But you're in pain now? (Yes)
He then proceeded to mumble a bit. Something about, "Let me try this." And then 4 or 5 seconds later, "How do you feel now?"
Me: About the same.
John: (more mumbling) And now?
Me: Truthfully, I feel some warmth and (I test my neck by bending it forward, chin touching chest) there was some pain at the very top of my neck, at the base of my skull. That appears to be gone. But the rest of my body feels about the same
John: (mumble mumble) And now?
Me: (honestly trying here) Uhm, yeah... about the same.
John: Well sometimes these things take more than a day to fully manifest. See how you feel over the next couple of hours and days. (man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that excuse in the faith healing circles, I'd be a rich woman... except I probably would have spent it all already, on yahoos like this guy)
Bishop Long: Anna Marie, would you be willing to call back later in the show and give us an update?
Me: Absolutely
The rest of the show consisted of people calling in, claiming the same warmth I had felt, and then being amazed that their pain was gone. Even Bishop Long, who had the beginning of a headache, was amazed when the pain melted away.
Now, as some of you know, I spent a good number of years in the Word of Faith/Evangelical World. I, myself, had the apparent ability to "heal" people of simple things like headaches and "emotional and spiritual" issues. How was this possible? I believe it was the power of suggestion, more than anything supernatural.
How was John able to remove pain from the listeners? Again, I think it boils down to power of suggestion, more than anything.
Toward the end of his interview, I called back in and gave an update. I reported that the pain at the top of my neck was still gone, but that the rest of me still hurt. John said that I should wait a couple more days, and suggested that the pain might dissipate over the coming days, or even weeks. In the mean time, I had looked up his prices from his website and to coin a Utah phrase, Holy Heck! Now I have absolutely zero issue with people charging for their services. Doctors charge for theirs. Nail techs charge for theirs. I am a tarot reader, I charge for mine, and I know a good many excellent psychics who charge (as well they should) for their services too. Our time is money, as they say, and that is basically what you're charging for, in addition to the service.
But while on the phone with him this second time, I was attempting to discuss his pricing system with him. He jumped down my throat and insinuated that I was asking him to offer his services to me for free. The thought had not even crossed my mind. There was more I wanted to discuss with him, but he wouldn't let me speak. I was constantly interrupted so I finally manged to squeeze in, "John, John," (had to get his attention), "It's obvious I'm not going to get a word in edge-wise, so I thank you for your time. Have a wonderful evening." He laughed at this and after I hung up, continued to defend his position on not giving his service out for free. Again, I never asked or even insinuated that I wanted his
Now here's the kicker. Not everyone was healed (he even did a "mass healing" of everyone in the chatroom... no one claimed to feel better after that). All those that called in, with the exception of ONE person "lost" their "deletion" with 24 to 48 hours. In other words, the pain came back, in most cases, within hours of the show. Thank goodness we didn't pay him. As to the one who still claims no pain five days later, she had back and hip pain. She said it "melted away" and hasn't returned. She is the only one I can find who still has no pain after said "deletion."
John was proudly claiming a 99% success rate on the show that night (I was the 1%, but then I'm always that 1%. It's my lot in life). From what I can gather, based on my subsequent follow-up of those in the room, he actually had a 1% success rate, not failure rate. Stick that in your pain pill and ... uhm... swallow it.
Here are some quotes from those who initially claimed healing:
"I called and was in the chat for the 'mass healing'... I felt better during the call, but the pain came back and I ended up putting on my Tens Unit (electro-shock therapy thing that the dr's use) and I'm feelin okay this morning..."
"well 'healed' at the time i felt better... but today is a new day. (I feel the) same as i did before the show yesterday..."
"no results with me and mom"
Even Bishop Long told me that while he was initially shocked to realize his headache was gone, by the time he took his co-host home, his headache was coming back. He had to take his migraine meds in order to stave it off.
No refunds after services are performed, though he claims he will return your cash if you change your mind before said services take place. *smacky lips noise* Yeah.
He also has a fairly complex set of rules regarding contacting him. They involve a series of steps with email, voice mail messages, a slide ruler and an abacus. Good luck.
What he claims he can do (from his Bio page): After 30 years in the so-called Wholistic or Natural Health Field I have developed an ability and a system using the laws of physics, intention and non-contact muscle testing to access anyone or groups of people anywhere in the world and delete the frequency or energy cause of any problem they may have whether physical, mental or emotional. This includes and is not limited to virus, bacterial infections, fibromyalgia, post traumatic stress syndrome, pain of injuries, migraines, etc. The results are generally instant and immediately verified by the person being treated.
Then turns around on his "Disclaimer page" and says: The protocols listed on this web address and/or any other protocols are not meant to nor do they claim to treat, mitigate, cure, diagnose or in any way refer to or access in anyway any disease or treatment of disease or disease processes, injuries, damage, symptoms of any kind, allergies or anything or any physical, mental, psychological, or emotional problems of an kind or any such thing or anything which in any way should, could be, or might be considered to be diagnosed or treated in any way by a physician or therapist of any kind anywhere or at any time. This is and only is a deletion of possible frequencies using distance-non-touch methods and a suggested possible input of harmonious frequencies for a possible harmonic or harmonious response claim made only by the individual or individuals receiving such possible frequency deletion and/or input in/at a non-physical/non-biological format or level. An individual or individual or individuals who require, or think, or believe that they require, or who have been advised by their advisors should seek any required, recommended, or desired care of their professional whether medical, dental, psychological, emotional or otherwise.
So, can ya do it, or not? I'm a little confused.
Oh wait... right. Not.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Oh You Worthless People, You
You know what really chaps my hide? Self-righteous people, wallowing in their own clueless shit.
Example: Just because I'm sitting in the same room as you, doesn't mean I want to talk to you or hear about your day. And I definitely don't want to hear you bitch about your food stamps. Get a second fucking job like I did you waste of flesh.
Waste of flesh?? Really?? That's a bit harsh. In case you didn't notice, there's arecession depression going on. You were able to find a second job? Great, give me one of yours and then we'll both have one.
Example: Standing behind the person in the grocery store as they text on their smart phone while paying for their food with TANF. I bet I could afford one of those phones too, if I were on food stamps!
You obviously have no idea what it takes to qualify for food stamps, or the stories behind those of us on them. Smart phones are cheap to free now, and the plan prices are coming down too. If we don't use a land line, we can sometimes afford the plan on a cell phone. Are we wearing nice clothes? We probably already owned them before the damn recession hit. Or maybe, just maybe, we have a relative or friend who loves us enough to give us some very nice hand-me-downs so we can look decent while looking for that non-existent job out there (because the jack-wipe in the first post took two jobs instead of one...leaving me jobless).
And don't assume for one second that just because we are on TANF, that we are lazy, shiftless, no-good abusers of the system who use drugs and sleep till noon. Where the hell did that idea ever start?
You know what I think? I think you're jealous. You're pissed cuz we were smart enough to ask for help when we needed it. Do you think we like being on food stamps and medicaid? No, we don't. But right now, in this economy, it's saving our asses.
And don't even start with me about Obama. He is not the reason we are in this pickle. This started on Bush's watch and it damn near put the country out of business. That said, this is not a political debate blog. If you post anything in the way of inflammatory anything, I will block your ass. Thank you.
Now, back to the question at hand:
The person in front of me is buying nothing but junk food, and paying for it with food stamps! My tax dollars should only be used to pay for healthy food...UNBELIEVABLE!!!
Shut. Up. Seriously. You've never had to go through the line to buy a cake and goodies for your kid's birthday party? You've never had a "pizza night" at your house where it was pizza, wings and soda? Never?? Then shut the fuck up. We cannot buy "hot" or prepared foods (though the battle line has apparently been drawn in Oklahoma. I won't go into the pros and cons here, but generally speaking, there should be a few exceptions to the hot food rule. Fast food? Bad idea, IMHO), and if we budget our allotment carefully, we can afford the occasional "junk food" treat. Do some people buy only pre-packaged foods? Sure they do. Is that my problem? Not in the least. They either won't have enough TANF to get through the month, or they don't know how to cook, or whatever. It's none of my concern. It's none of yours either. I can usually tell who is a regular buyer of the "bad" stuff based on body girth, but that has nothing to do with me. At least they aren't starving to death.
Example: Just because I'm sitting in the same room as you, doesn't mean I want to talk to you or hear about your day. And I definitely don't want to hear you bitch about your food stamps. Get a second fucking job like I did you waste of flesh.
Waste of flesh?? Really?? That's a bit harsh. In case you didn't notice, there's a
Example: Standing behind the person in the grocery store as they text on their smart phone while paying for their food with TANF. I bet I could afford one of those phones too, if I were on food stamps!
You obviously have no idea what it takes to qualify for food stamps, or the stories behind those of us on them. Smart phones are cheap to free now, and the plan prices are coming down too. If we don't use a land line, we can sometimes afford the plan on a cell phone. Are we wearing nice clothes? We probably already owned them before the damn recession hit. Or maybe, just maybe, we have a relative or friend who loves us enough to give us some very nice hand-me-downs so we can look decent while looking for that non-existent job out there (because the jack-wipe in the first post took two jobs instead of one...leaving me jobless).
And don't assume for one second that just because we are on TANF, that we are lazy, shiftless, no-good abusers of the system who use drugs and sleep till noon. Where the hell did that idea ever start?
You know what I think? I think you're jealous. You're pissed cuz we were smart enough to ask for help when we needed it. Do you think we like being on food stamps and medicaid? No, we don't. But right now, in this economy, it's saving our asses.
And don't even start with me about Obama. He is not the reason we are in this pickle. This started on Bush's watch and it damn near put the country out of business. That said, this is not a political debate blog. If you post anything in the way of inflammatory anything, I will block your ass. Thank you.
Now, back to the question at hand:
The person in front of me is buying nothing but junk food, and paying for it with food stamps! My tax dollars should only be used to pay for healthy food...UNBELIEVABLE!!!
Shut. Up. Seriously. You've never had to go through the line to buy a cake and goodies for your kid's birthday party? You've never had a "pizza night" at your house where it was pizza, wings and soda? Never?? Then shut the fuck up. We cannot buy "hot" or prepared foods (though the battle line has apparently been drawn in Oklahoma. I won't go into the pros and cons here, but generally speaking, there should be a few exceptions to the hot food rule. Fast food? Bad idea, IMHO), and if we budget our allotment carefully, we can afford the occasional "junk food" treat. Do some people buy only pre-packaged foods? Sure they do. Is that my problem? Not in the least. They either won't have enough TANF to get through the month, or they don't know how to cook, or whatever. It's none of my concern. It's none of yours either. I can usually tell who is a regular buyer of the "bad" stuff based on body girth, but that has nothing to do with me. At least they aren't starving to death.
Judge not, lest ye be judged
Matthew 7:1
Have you ever had to worry about where you were going to get the money to feed your children? I mean really, really worry? Have you spent months on end living on rice, potatoes and pancake mix (the kind that mixes with water... forget that "add eggs and milk" shit) because that was all you could afford?
Face it, America is now a Food Stamp Nation. 46 million Americans are on food stamps. That's roughly 1 in 6 or 7 people. Chances are, you have a friend or loved one on food stamps. Why are we on food stamps? Because we would starve; our children would starve, if we didn't utilize this god-send. Will the majority of us stay on them forever? No. As soon as the economy grinds back into gear, and we can afford it, we will no longer qualify, and the food stamps will stop. I will rejoice in the day I can afford to purchase my own food again.
Until then, if you don't qualify because you make too much money, rejoice that you have a fucking job. We work, yes. But a second job? There aren't any out there. Trust me, we're looking.
I'm just so sick and tired of this economy. I'm sick and tired of people's ignorance, but I'm especially sick and tired of the venom they spew forth in that ignorance, perpetuating the stigma behind "government subsidy." I'm standing here today. I'm standing without shame. We have not abused the system. We will not abuse the system. We are not a minority in that mindset. Those of you that are looking down your noses at us, stop it. You'll get a crick in your neck. Try turning your eyes skyward instead (you won't even have to adjust the angle of your neck) and asking the God you believe in to send a little help our way, then maybe take some action and send a little help our way.
Face it, America is now a Food Stamp Nation. 46 million Americans are on food stamps. That's roughly 1 in 6 or 7 people. Chances are, you have a friend or loved one on food stamps. Why are we on food stamps? Because we would starve; our children would starve, if we didn't utilize this god-send. Will the majority of us stay on them forever? No. As soon as the economy grinds back into gear, and we can afford it, we will no longer qualify, and the food stamps will stop. I will rejoice in the day I can afford to purchase my own food again.
Until then, if you don't qualify because you make too much money, rejoice that you have a fucking job. We work, yes. But a second job? There aren't any out there. Trust me, we're looking.
I'm just so sick and tired of this economy. I'm sick and tired of people's ignorance, but I'm especially sick and tired of the venom they spew forth in that ignorance, perpetuating the stigma behind "government subsidy." I'm standing here today. I'm standing without shame. We have not abused the system. We will not abuse the system. We are not a minority in that mindset. Those of you that are looking down your noses at us, stop it. You'll get a crick in your neck. Try turning your eyes skyward instead (you won't even have to adjust the angle of your neck) and asking the God you believe in to send a little help our way, then maybe take some action and send a little help our way.
Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor
will himself call out and not be answered.
Proverbs 21:13
It May Be Bigger, But That Doesn't Mean Better
I woke up this morning and through my coffee-deprived, bleary eyes, this is one of the the first things I read:
Texas is actually pretty awesome, it's just this backwoods town that refuses to get into the 21st century.
Unfortunately, Texas is 98% "backwoods." I know... I lived there for some eight years. Sure, there are great cities, with mostly normal people, but unless you've been to Texas and spent some time there, I don't think you can really appreciate the enormity of the state. Try driving through it. Or better yet, try driving from El Paso to Houston in a day. Go ahead, I dare ya. I'm not sure it can be done, even if you eat and pee "on the fly."
Texas is actually pretty awesome, it's just this backwoods town that refuses to get into the 21st century.
Unfortunately, Texas is 98% "backwoods." I know... I lived there for some eight years. Sure, there are great cities, with mostly normal people, but unless you've been to Texas and spent some time there, I don't think you can really appreciate the enormity of the state. Try driving through it. Or better yet, try driving from El Paso to Houston in a day. Go ahead, I dare ya. I'm not sure it can be done, even if you eat and pee "on the fly."
Let me put it to you this way: Texas. Is. Huge. They have the big cities of Dallas, Austin, San Antonio and Houston (El Paso doesn't even really count because while large, it's at the very tip of the corner edge of the state. They were lucky to make in in at all, it's so far out there). In between these four (okay, fine... five) cities is either a vast amount of nothingness (that's from El Paso to anywhere) or thousands of tiny, obscure, backwoods towns. I'm not exaggerating.
There are a few things in life that get my ire up, and quickly. One is lying for the sake of lying, and the other is un-founded pride. When they say, "Everything's bigger in Texas," they aren't lying, but they are also including their sense of pride for no other reason than they feel they deserve to have it.
If you are not "from Texas," and by that I mean, born there and have a lineage of people you can point to, also born there, then you are looked upon with suspicion and disdain. I'm speaking of the 98% that is not one of the big five here, so don't write me if you live in a city and tell me I'm wrong. I spent my time there in small towns, not so much the big cities. I'm not wrong.
lo*cal: noun of or pertaining to a strict, unspoken qualification in order to be considered "Texan enough." If you do not meet these qualifications, you are not Texan, regardless of how many years you spent in that hell of a hole.
I can't tell you how many times I was having an otherwise pleasant conversation with some local (and by god, they're everywhere!) when they would ask the seemingly innocent question, "Y'all from around here?"
I was probably asked that questions hundreds of times. I was never, that I can recall, asked by anyone that lived in one of the four (alright dammit, five) cities. The body language of the inquirer never changed. The conversation always went like this, verbatim:
Local: Y'all from around here?
Me: Yes, we live down in the Summerside Division.
Local: (eyes narrow slightly) But are ya from around here?
Me: We moved here a few years ago. I'm originally from Oregon.
Local: (turns body slightly away from me, looks me up an down suspiciously, as if my non-nativeness might be catching)
Me: But my Great-Grandmother was born and raised here (here, meaning Texas, of course)
Local: (turns body back, ever-so-slightly; still looks at me suspiciously) Don' say....
The conversation always got really awkward and weird after that.
Did I meet good people there? Absolutely. Will they be life-long friends? I sincerely hope and believe so. Will I ever move back again? Gods that be, I hope not.
Is there a point to this post? Not really. I'm mostly just glad we finally escaped (yes, escaped) from that dreadful state. They can keep their spiders, poisonous snakes, scorpions, cactus, mesquite thorns, heat index, humidity and most of all, that damned Texas Pride. I will continue to shake my head sadly at those who get hyper-defensive when anything negative is said about "their" state.
And one last comment: Let 'em secede. Please.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sur-PRIZE Sur-PRIZE Sur-PRIZE
Before reading any further... make sure you have read this post first. Go ahead. It's not long. I'll wait.....
*whistles and plays a little Cityville to kill the time*
Done? Okay...
The results? I tested negative this morning. I'm actually a little surprised. Still haven't had a visit from good ole Aunt Flo yet, but unless informed otherwise, we'll just assume the test results are accurate.
You may now resume your regularly scheduled lives. Thanks for tuning in.
*whistles and plays a little Cityville to kill the time*
Done? Okay...
The results? I tested negative this morning. I'm actually a little surprised. Still haven't had a visit from good ole Aunt Flo yet, but unless informed otherwise, we'll just assume the test results are accurate.
You may now resume your regularly scheduled lives. Thanks for tuning in.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Is Anybody Listening?
So, I admit, I'm not the avid blogger I used to be. And I admit, I don't push this blog like I should, or pay much attention to it. And like a forgotten houseplant, this blog is rather withered and brown. I have no problem with that. I honestly don't care if anyone reads this, truth be told. I actually have this up more for me than you (if there are any "yous" out there). It's a sort of "Dear Diary" for me... and in a way, if I choose to share anything too intimate, a little exhibitionist on my part. Are there any voyeurs out there?
So here's my little test.... Let's see if anyone is paying attention.
Bitch and Moan for the week:
Last week, my pants were falling off of me. Literally. I was having to hike them up every three steps or so, and I loved that I had lost that much weight. This week? I'm sitting here with the same pants unbuttoned and unzipped because all done up, they are WAY too tight. Amazing the difference a week can make, eh?
I am tired... ALL THE TIME
I am nauseated about half the time.
"I have heartburn radiating to my kneecaps" ~ Juno
Okay, not my kneecaps. My heartburn tends to radiate the other direction, into my jawbone, and usually hits me around 2:30 in the morning. If I'm lucky, it's gone by 5:30 or 6:00 and I can lay back down and get a little sleep.
AF (Aunt Flo) is due on Wednesday, but as you may suspect, and certain as I suspect, I'm probably pregnant.
We've been trying for #6 (our second together) for over a year now... maybe closer to two years. Last year just wasn't our year. I suffered a miscarriage in mid-January, then another in mid-November. If this one sticks, it will be our last. If it doesn't....I just don't know. I'm getting up there and have some health issues (CMP and chronic pain) so I'm honestly not sure of the wisdom of trying for another. But we both would LOVE to have a baby brother or (oh please oh please!) sister for Ash to play with.
So, only time will tell. I'll keep you (echo... echo.... echo...) posted.
So here's my little test.... Let's see if anyone is paying attention.
Bitch and Moan for the week:
Last week, my pants were falling off of me. Literally. I was having to hike them up every three steps or so, and I loved that I had lost that much weight. This week? I'm sitting here with the same pants unbuttoned and unzipped because all done up, they are WAY too tight. Amazing the difference a week can make, eh?
I am tired... ALL THE TIME
I am nauseated about half the time.
"I have heartburn radiating to my kneecaps" ~ Juno
Okay, not my kneecaps. My heartburn tends to radiate the other direction, into my jawbone, and usually hits me around 2:30 in the morning. If I'm lucky, it's gone by 5:30 or 6:00 and I can lay back down and get a little sleep.
AF (Aunt Flo) is due on Wednesday, but as you may suspect, and certain as I suspect, I'm probably pregnant.
We've been trying for #6 (our second together) for over a year now... maybe closer to two years. Last year just wasn't our year. I suffered a miscarriage in mid-January, then another in mid-November. If this one sticks, it will be our last. If it doesn't....I just don't know. I'm getting up there and have some health issues (CMP and chronic pain) so I'm honestly not sure of the wisdom of trying for another. But we both would LOVE to have a baby brother or (oh please oh please!) sister for Ash to play with.
So, only time will tell. I'll keep you (echo... echo.... echo...) posted.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Insanity
I have stood at the brink of the pit of insanity. It’s nothing like I expected it to be.
I expected the fall to be short, sunny and delirious. I expected the slide into insanity would be a gentle one, surrounded by wild, yet happy thoughts. Or even if they were not so happy, to at least have that warm oblivion wrapped around my brain like a heavy comforter on a cold day. I expected to be buffeted from the pain, the fear….oh god, the fear!
As I stood on the edge of the pit, the ground beneath me began to crumble. At that same moment, I lost all equilibrium. The fear of falling outweighed the fear of losing my children, which outweighed the fear of the fight to keep them. It outweighed the grief I felt in not having my husband with me. It outweighed the loneliness, the frustration, and the anger.
It outweighed them, but it did not erase them.
I can’t breath. I can’t think. I’m losing my grip on the ground beneath me and my grip on reality too.
The kitchen was spinning before my dazed eyes and the fear; the fear tried to swallow me. Or rather, it tried to force me to swallow it; infuse itself into me like a teabag infuses tea into hot water. The fear and I were nearly one, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
So this is what insanity feels like.
When you stand on the brink of the pit of insanity, you feel as if you are going to vomit. And pass out. And scream and cry and whimper and scream some more. There is no silently slipping into oblivion. Insanity is something that you go into, eyes wide with fear, nails clawing at the grit and pebbles at the edge of the pit.
Somehow, I’m not sure how, I managed to claw my way back out. I was covered in dirt and dust and was breathing hard, even as I let go of the counter and wandered aimlessly into the all-but-empty living room.
That was a close one. Let’s not do that again, shall we?
Yes, good idea.
I have stood at the brink of the pit of insanity and let me tell you, it’s simply nothing like I expected it to be.
I expected the fall to be short, sunny and delirious. I expected the slide into insanity would be a gentle one, surrounded by wild, yet happy thoughts. Or even if they were not so happy, to at least have that warm oblivion wrapped around my brain like a heavy comforter on a cold day. I expected to be buffeted from the pain, the fear….oh god, the fear!
As I stood on the edge of the pit, the ground beneath me began to crumble. At that same moment, I lost all equilibrium. The fear of falling outweighed the fear of losing my children, which outweighed the fear of the fight to keep them. It outweighed the grief I felt in not having my husband with me. It outweighed the loneliness, the frustration, and the anger.
It outweighed them, but it did not erase them.
I can’t breath. I can’t think. I’m losing my grip on the ground beneath me and my grip on reality too.
The kitchen was spinning before my dazed eyes and the fear; the fear tried to swallow me. Or rather, it tried to force me to swallow it; infuse itself into me like a teabag infuses tea into hot water. The fear and I were nearly one, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
So this is what insanity feels like.
When you stand on the brink of the pit of insanity, you feel as if you are going to vomit. And pass out. And scream and cry and whimper and scream some more. There is no silently slipping into oblivion. Insanity is something that you go into, eyes wide with fear, nails clawing at the grit and pebbles at the edge of the pit.
Somehow, I’m not sure how, I managed to claw my way back out. I was covered in dirt and dust and was breathing hard, even as I let go of the counter and wandered aimlessly into the all-but-empty living room.
That was a close one. Let’s not do that again, shall we?
Yes, good idea.
I have stood at the brink of the pit of insanity and let me tell you, it’s simply nothing like I expected it to be.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Dear Grocery Store Customer
Dear Grocery Store Customer,
Thank you for your patronage. Your business truly is appreciated, as it pays my salary. I promise to provide you with courteous, prompt and cheerful customer service. In return, please allow me to outline a few helpful hints that you, the customer, can do to help move the process along:
1. There is something in our Checker World called "IPMs." This is "Items Per Minute" or to put it more plainly, The Management keeps track of how quickly we check you out from the time we ring up your first item until we hit the "Enter" button and hand you your receipt. If YOU cause a delay of some sort ("Oh, I forgot the milk. Can I just run back real quick and get it?") then our IPMs drop. A lot. And it also holds up everyone else in line and generally pisses them off. And face it, are we really going to tell you no, you CAN'T go get that item you forgot, since it will only, "Take a second" to get? No, we will not.
2. Do not stand at the end of the belt and place your groceries, one by one, to travel the lonely mile all the way to me. The belt is not a carnival ride nor do the groceries derive any pleasure from having to travel ALLLLLL the way down from one end to the other. The grocery police will not arrest you if you stand in the MIDDLE of the belt and load your groceries. Trust me, things go MUCH quicker, and I will be less cranky on the inside if I can just buzz through your items, rather than watching my IPMs drop like a lead weight in water.
3. Do not get upset or impatient with me if I hold the belt until you've finished unloading your cart (or at the very least, sufficiently filled up the belt). Trust me. I can probably check your items faster than you can put them on the belt. Please see points 1 and 2 for my reasoning on this.
4. There is no need to organize your groceries alphabetically, stack them like little miniature castles or create beautiful origami with them. All your hard work will only be undone when I pick them up (randomly) and run them across the scanner. There is also no need to tell us to "keep the cold items together." I PROMISE, we will straighten it all out on the other side and bag your groceries professionally and properly.
5. My greeting to you is obligatory, and we both know it. This is not, however, any reason to be pissy with me. I am simply doing my job when I greet you with a genuine smile, ask if you found everything okay, and offer you the sale item of the week. I have no frickin' idea if you've shopped here a million years and know this store better than I do, or if you are from another city and had trouble finding the sugar-free cookies.
6. When you cannot find said sugar-free cookies, and I offer to send someone to get them for you, don't get all bitchy with me and insist we don't carry them anymore. I just saw the damn things yesterday on our shelves and know for a fact that we do still carry them. If I'm uncertain, I'll say so, and call a manager to find out for sure.
7. There are these wonderful little inventions called "Dividers." We provide them for your use to place between orders. This is so I know when your order ends and the next order begins. I am not a fucking mind-reader. Use the fucking divider. Thank you.
8. If you insist on bringing your children with you to the store, for christssake, do NOT let them bag the groceries. We also have goals to place X number of items in each bag, and to use the smaller bags when necessary. I guarantee you, your 8 year old has no fucking idea how to bag groceries.
9. On that same note: If you insist on raising a brat, please have the decency to at least watch them. I do not appreciate ringing up your order AND the order of the person behind me because YOUR little angel decided to remove the divider. And no, it's not my job to watch and make sure the divider doesn't get moved. I'm busy. Get off the damned cell phone and be a parent for once.
10. If you are in the check-out stand directly behind me, please be mindful of my personal space and keep out of it. I have a tiny little area to work in and I don't need your fat ass backing into mine.
11. There are times where we are short-handed and don't have enough baggers to help bag groceries. There are also times we are incredibly busy, and all said baggers are out helping other customers put their groceries in their respective vehicles. In the event this happens while I'm checking out your $400-plus basket(s) of groceries, would you please be so kind as to quit staring at me and help me bag some of your own shit? And if this act is beneath you, that is more than okay. At the very least, pick up the bags I've already filled and put them in your goddam basket already. I don't have a lot of room at the low side of the register and it truly is appreciated when you help out.
12. Do not give me your nasty, sticky coins or bills that have milk, juice and god-knows-what-else on them. I don't want them.
13. Do not lie to me about the price of something. Do not get impatient with me when I have to do a price check. You will be found out if you lie and I HAVE to do the damn price check. I've been burned too many times by schmucks insisting the price is such-and-such. Management frowns on the loss of dollars after the third time in a week I get taken.
14. Do NOT give me your religious pamphlets, stickers, bookmarks, etc. While some checkers in this hell they call the Bible-Belt may appreciate your gifts and get all warm and fuzzy, not everyone here is a Christian and I don't care how you slice it, it is considered proselytizing. Besides, I just throw it away when you're gone. You're welcome.
15. When you want cash back from a transaction, fucking - LISTEN - TO - ME - when I give you instructions on how to get your damn cash. Don't get mad at ME and storm out, forgetting your ice along the way, just because YOU couldn't follow directions.
16. Men, for the love of god and all that is holy, please cut your nasty, gross fingernails.
17. Please forgive me if I don't remember your face or name the first few times you go through my line. I know we live in a small town, but there are still a lot of names and faces to learn.
18. To those of you who are cheerful, pleasant, helpful and just plain nice: Thank you. I love each of you. For those of you that actually carry on a conversation with me, THANK YOU!! You not only make my job easier, but make me look good in front of the boss. For those of you who have bad days, but don't take it out on me, thank you. I really will listen to you when you tell me what a shitty day/week/month you're having. I will commiserate with you and feel you pain, sincerely.
Thank you for your patronage. Your business truly is appreciated, as it pays my salary. I promise to provide you with courteous, prompt and cheerful customer service. In return, please allow me to outline a few helpful hints that you, the customer, can do to help move the process along:
1. There is something in our Checker World called "IPMs." This is "Items Per Minute" or to put it more plainly, The Management keeps track of how quickly we check you out from the time we ring up your first item until we hit the "Enter" button and hand you your receipt. If YOU cause a delay of some sort ("Oh, I forgot the milk. Can I just run back real quick and get it?") then our IPMs drop. A lot. And it also holds up everyone else in line and generally pisses them off. And face it, are we really going to tell you no, you CAN'T go get that item you forgot, since it will only, "Take a second" to get? No, we will not.
2. Do not stand at the end of the belt and place your groceries, one by one, to travel the lonely mile all the way to me. The belt is not a carnival ride nor do the groceries derive any pleasure from having to travel ALLLLLL the way down from one end to the other. The grocery police will not arrest you if you stand in the MIDDLE of the belt and load your groceries. Trust me, things go MUCH quicker, and I will be less cranky on the inside if I can just buzz through your items, rather than watching my IPMs drop like a lead weight in water.
3. Do not get upset or impatient with me if I hold the belt until you've finished unloading your cart (or at the very least, sufficiently filled up the belt). Trust me. I can probably check your items faster than you can put them on the belt. Please see points 1 and 2 for my reasoning on this.
4. There is no need to organize your groceries alphabetically, stack them like little miniature castles or create beautiful origami with them. All your hard work will only be undone when I pick them up (randomly) and run them across the scanner. There is also no need to tell us to "keep the cold items together." I PROMISE, we will straighten it all out on the other side and bag your groceries professionally and properly.
5. My greeting to you is obligatory, and we both know it. This is not, however, any reason to be pissy with me. I am simply doing my job when I greet you with a genuine smile, ask if you found everything okay, and offer you the sale item of the week. I have no frickin' idea if you've shopped here a million years and know this store better than I do, or if you are from another city and had trouble finding the sugar-free cookies.
6. When you cannot find said sugar-free cookies, and I offer to send someone to get them for you, don't get all bitchy with me and insist we don't carry them anymore. I just saw the damn things yesterday on our shelves and know for a fact that we do still carry them. If I'm uncertain, I'll say so, and call a manager to find out for sure.
7. There are these wonderful little inventions called "Dividers." We provide them for your use to place between orders. This is so I know when your order ends and the next order begins. I am not a fucking mind-reader. Use the fucking divider. Thank you.
8. If you insist on bringing your children with you to the store, for christssake, do NOT let them bag the groceries. We also have goals to place X number of items in each bag, and to use the smaller bags when necessary. I guarantee you, your 8 year old has no fucking idea how to bag groceries.
9. On that same note: If you insist on raising a brat, please have the decency to at least watch them. I do not appreciate ringing up your order AND the order of the person behind me because YOUR little angel decided to remove the divider. And no, it's not my job to watch and make sure the divider doesn't get moved. I'm busy. Get off the damned cell phone and be a parent for once.
10. If you are in the check-out stand directly behind me, please be mindful of my personal space and keep out of it. I have a tiny little area to work in and I don't need your fat ass backing into mine.
11. There are times where we are short-handed and don't have enough baggers to help bag groceries. There are also times we are incredibly busy, and all said baggers are out helping other customers put their groceries in their respective vehicles. In the event this happens while I'm checking out your $400-plus basket(s) of groceries, would you please be so kind as to quit staring at me and help me bag some of your own shit? And if this act is beneath you, that is more than okay. At the very least, pick up the bags I've already filled and put them in your goddam basket already. I don't have a lot of room at the low side of the register and it truly is appreciated when you help out.
12. Do not give me your nasty, sticky coins or bills that have milk, juice and god-knows-what-else on them. I don't want them.
13. Do not lie to me about the price of something. Do not get impatient with me when I have to do a price check. You will be found out if you lie and I HAVE to do the damn price check. I've been burned too many times by schmucks insisting the price is such-and-such. Management frowns on the loss of dollars after the third time in a week I get taken.
14. Do NOT give me your religious pamphlets, stickers, bookmarks, etc. While some checkers in this hell they call the Bible-Belt may appreciate your gifts and get all warm and fuzzy, not everyone here is a Christian and I don't care how you slice it, it is considered proselytizing. Besides, I just throw it away when you're gone. You're welcome.
15. When you want cash back from a transaction, fucking - LISTEN - TO - ME - when I give you instructions on how to get your damn cash. Don't get mad at ME and storm out, forgetting your ice along the way, just because YOU couldn't follow directions.
16. Men, for the love of god and all that is holy, please cut your nasty, gross fingernails.
17. Please forgive me if I don't remember your face or name the first few times you go through my line. I know we live in a small town, but there are still a lot of names and faces to learn.
18. To those of you who are cheerful, pleasant, helpful and just plain nice: Thank you. I love each of you. For those of you that actually carry on a conversation with me, THANK YOU!! You not only make my job easier, but make me look good in front of the boss. For those of you who have bad days, but don't take it out on me, thank you. I really will listen to you when you tell me what a shitty day/week/month you're having. I will commiserate with you and feel you pain, sincerely.
Invisible
Wednesday, February 17, 2010 at 1:14pm
When I walk, I am invisible.
No one can see me, except for the dogs.
I pull my hood up over my head, going into Super-Stealth Mode.
I push my way along, turning the earth with my feet.
First this way, then that way,
The earth moves at my whim.
A dog barks as I pass by.
Shh! You'll give me away!
Stupid dog.
Cars pass by me. I am only a ripple in the airwaves to them.
They avoid me out of instinct, though they know not why.
I meet another walker. We acknowledge one another with a slight turn of the head.
He is invisible too, but we are not to each other.
I notice the dogs don't bark when he passes by. I must learn this technique.
When I walk, I am invisible.
My jeans give me away. They make a rhythmic sound as I walk, but only on the right side.
I notice a familiar turn in the road.
The fairies still haven't picked up their sprocket they carelessly left behind.
I see the grill plate too. Sloppy, sloppy fairies.
Maybe I'll pick those items up for them, so they can stay invisible too.
It's a beautiful power to have, invisibility.
Don't you wish you had it too?
When I walk, I am invisible.
No one can see me, except for the dogs.
I pull my hood up over my head, going into Super-Stealth Mode.
I push my way along, turning the earth with my feet.
First this way, then that way,
The earth moves at my whim.
A dog barks as I pass by.
Shh! You'll give me away!
Stupid dog.
Cars pass by me. I am only a ripple in the airwaves to them.
They avoid me out of instinct, though they know not why.
I meet another walker. We acknowledge one another with a slight turn of the head.
He is invisible too, but we are not to each other.
I notice the dogs don't bark when he passes by. I must learn this technique.
When I walk, I am invisible.
My jeans give me away. They make a rhythmic sound as I walk, but only on the right side.
I notice a familiar turn in the road.
The fairies still haven't picked up their sprocket they carelessly left behind.
I see the grill plate too. Sloppy, sloppy fairies.
Maybe I'll pick those items up for them, so they can stay invisible too.
It's a beautiful power to have, invisibility.
Don't you wish you had it too?
The Little Assassin
Monday, January 4, 2010 at 7:30pm
You may have heard Brian and I marvel at how Ash just seems to "know" things. For example, he knew what sort of sound a car is supposed to make, he knew that if he put two sticks together, one was his "gun" and the other his "ammo" (and it doesn't work w/o the ammo!) along with the sound that a gun is supposed to make. In each case we have no idea how he's learned what he's learned.
Today is different. Today, he has his drumstick and has been busy stabbing the dishwasher, over and over and over. He steps back, lunges and does his little baby yell, "EEEEYAAAAA!!" If it wasn't so dang cute, it'd be a little on the disturbing side. But "cute" definitely wins out here. Honestly.
So where did he learn this? Ahhh, that's an easy one. The kids have been playing "Assassin's Creed" both I and II nonstop since Christmas. He's obviously picked up some pointers on some Knight Templar moves.
Of course, as I type this, he's lying on his back, with his feet in the air yelling, "DEE DEE DEE DAAADEEEE DEE DEE!!!!"
Brian seems to think Ash can protect us. I have my doubts.
You may have heard Brian and I marvel at how Ash just seems to "know" things. For example, he knew what sort of sound a car is supposed to make, he knew that if he put two sticks together, one was his "gun" and the other his "ammo" (and it doesn't work w/o the ammo!) along with the sound that a gun is supposed to make. In each case we have no idea how he's learned what he's learned.
Today is different. Today, he has his drumstick and has been busy stabbing the dishwasher, over and over and over. He steps back, lunges and does his little baby yell, "EEEEYAAAAA!!" If it wasn't so dang cute, it'd be a little on the disturbing side. But "cute" definitely wins out here. Honestly.
So where did he learn this? Ahhh, that's an easy one. The kids have been playing "Assassin's Creed" both I and II nonstop since Christmas. He's obviously picked up some pointers on some Knight Templar moves.
Of course, as I type this, he's lying on his back, with his feet in the air yelling, "DEE DEE DEE DAAADEEEE DEE DEE!!!!"
Brian seems to think Ash can protect us. I have my doubts.
Processing
Wednesday, December 23, 2009 at 10:34pm
So, I'm still trying to process this news. My brain knows what is about to happen; or maybe it's my heart. I'm not sure... they both are a little tangled up right now. I don't know if it just hasn't fully sunk in yet, or if I'm just going to keep this brave face until the afternoon of March 1st; only then letting down my guard to allow myself to cry.
Why would I cry? Relief, mostly. I know it's going to be okay. But still, it's a very scary thought.
I found out today that my 15 year old daughter, Josee, will be needing back surgery. She has very severe scoliosis and the doctor didn't even hesitate when he saw her x-rays.
"Her curve is 63 degrees. Back braces are only effective at halting the progression, not fixing the curvature. And even then, they are only moderately effective for curvatures of about 20 degrees to 40 degrees. She's going to need surgery."
The blood drained from my face. I exhaled and said, "I was afraid you were going to say that."
I too, have scoliosis. Mine is located in my lower back and at last measurement was some 46 degrees off. But lower back scoliosis and middle/upper back scoliosis are two different creatures entirely.
Prior to the good doctor coming into the exam room, we had been sitting there together. I recalled the dozens, perhaps hundreds of trips I took to see my own specialist when I was Josee's age. Each week I'd go in for another set of x-rays and each week he'd hem and haw and say, "You're just so active, I'm going to hold off putting you in a brace." When I finally turned 18 he released me from his care. Back then, there was some peripheral talk of back surgery. I was not opposed to the idea while my mother would bristle and balk. "Nobody is going to cut MY baby's back open... not if *I* have anything to say about it!" she used to announce to anyone that would listen.
But this is different. This is not an option. Josee MUST have the surgery. It's just that I wasn't expecting it. At least, I wasn't expecting it until I saw the x-rays for the first time. The second I saw them, and saw what exactly was going on with her spine and ribs, and how that must be affecting her internal organs and surrounding muscles, I knew that surgery would be a distinct possibility.
But that still didn't stop the blood from draining from my face.
Things are happening way too fast. She is scheduled for an MRI tomorrow. She will go in and give blood twice before surgery, in the event that she needs a transfusion, and everything is set up save the parent consult meeting. Surgery is scheduled for March 1st.
She's doing great, by the way. She's a real trooper. She's always been my hero, and she continues to be today.
So yeah, I'm putting on a brave face now because I'm Mom and that's what moms do. But don't bet the farm that I won't break down and cry the afternoon of March 1st when the doctor emerges from the six hour surgery to tell us that everything went great and she's in recovery.
So, I'm still trying to process this news. My brain knows what is about to happen; or maybe it's my heart. I'm not sure... they both are a little tangled up right now. I don't know if it just hasn't fully sunk in yet, or if I'm just going to keep this brave face until the afternoon of March 1st; only then letting down my guard to allow myself to cry.
Why would I cry? Relief, mostly. I know it's going to be okay. But still, it's a very scary thought.
I found out today that my 15 year old daughter, Josee, will be needing back surgery. She has very severe scoliosis and the doctor didn't even hesitate when he saw her x-rays.
"Her curve is 63 degrees. Back braces are only effective at halting the progression, not fixing the curvature. And even then, they are only moderately effective for curvatures of about 20 degrees to 40 degrees. She's going to need surgery."
The blood drained from my face. I exhaled and said, "I was afraid you were going to say that."
I too, have scoliosis. Mine is located in my lower back and at last measurement was some 46 degrees off. But lower back scoliosis and middle/upper back scoliosis are two different creatures entirely.
Prior to the good doctor coming into the exam room, we had been sitting there together. I recalled the dozens, perhaps hundreds of trips I took to see my own specialist when I was Josee's age. Each week I'd go in for another set of x-rays and each week he'd hem and haw and say, "You're just so active, I'm going to hold off putting you in a brace." When I finally turned 18 he released me from his care. Back then, there was some peripheral talk of back surgery. I was not opposed to the idea while my mother would bristle and balk. "Nobody is going to cut MY baby's back open... not if *I* have anything to say about it!" she used to announce to anyone that would listen.
But this is different. This is not an option. Josee MUST have the surgery. It's just that I wasn't expecting it. At least, I wasn't expecting it until I saw the x-rays for the first time. The second I saw them, and saw what exactly was going on with her spine and ribs, and how that must be affecting her internal organs and surrounding muscles, I knew that surgery would be a distinct possibility.
But that still didn't stop the blood from draining from my face.
Things are happening way too fast. She is scheduled for an MRI tomorrow. She will go in and give blood twice before surgery, in the event that she needs a transfusion, and everything is set up save the parent consult meeting. Surgery is scheduled for March 1st.
She's doing great, by the way. She's a real trooper. She's always been my hero, and she continues to be today.
So yeah, I'm putting on a brave face now because I'm Mom and that's what moms do. But don't bet the farm that I won't break down and cry the afternoon of March 1st when the doctor emerges from the six hour surgery to tell us that everything went great and she's in recovery.
"Wow!".... Items and Other Things
Monday, November 16, 2009 at 1:47pm
It's been busy at work. Crazy busy. Like "week of Thanksgiving" busy.
For those who don't know, I work part-time as a cashier at our local grocery store. I'm still considered a newb, but am finally gaining the trust and respect of my fellow baggers, who apparently refuse to bag for new checkers. Thank goodness for that, because bagging a $300 order by yourself with four other $300 orders waiting in line REALLY sucks.
But that is not what my note is about today. No, today I would like to discuss the "Wow" items. Wow items are those impulse buys the grocery store puts at the register. They are offered at a very special price and we checkers are required to offer said items. As incentive on the positive, whoever sells the most items "wins" for the week. I've won twice now, and come in third once... I think. They are not really good at letting us know, but there is money involved, so the incentive is still there to try. As incentive on the negative, if we DON'T offer the item or items, the customer has the right to obtain the item for free.
I can count on three fingers how often I've failed to offer the Wow item. No one has ever exercised their right to obtain their freebie, but I always realize my mistake within moments of closing the transaction. At any rate, sometimes I ask at the very end, sometimes I mention it in the middle. I RARELY use the words, "Do you want a Wow item?" but rather inform the poor soul on the other side of my register that, "We have this item on sale for 99 cents and these doo-hickies are two for a dollar." Did I specifically OFFER the item? Technically, no... but I certainly did bring it to their attention, and the technique is what has allowed me to win so many times, even as a newb.
So yesterday, a woman came through my line. She was all dressed up in her Sunday finery. The first question out of her mouth after I finished up her order was, "What did I purchase that was so expensive??" I pulled her order back up and she realized the cake or some damn thing she picked up was $4-something rather than the $2.50 she claimed "the sign" said. My bagger dutifully trotted off to do a price check, and we stood and chatted for a few minutes while we waited for her to return. I commented on her dress and told her it was pretty and she responded, "Why THANK you! We have a special meetin' at church tonight," confirming my suspicions that she was a "God-fearing" woman.
Hint: "Special meetin'" is code for, "I'm an evangelical and I attend church whenever those doors open because I just cain't git enough of the Holy Spirit PRAISE GOD!!"
About this time, the bagger came back and told me she couldn't find a sign (this should have been a major red flag for me that this gal was what we call a "distractor," but I didn't think much about it). The woman kept insisting, "No, it's okay... no problem.. I'll just take the cake..." So I finished up her order in my usual manner.
As soon as I handed her the receipt, she got this smirk on her face and said, "You didn't offer me a basket item."
I stopped for half a second to filter through my memory (Notice I didn't place the actual offering in my dissertation above). I responded with, "I'm pretty sure I did." Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was a battle I could not win. It was my word against hers. And who is always right? Yep. The customer.
I sighed and asked her which item did she want? She took claim on the toothpaste. I then asked her WHICH toothpaste she wanted, and she waved her hand and said, "I don't care.. any of them."
There are five fucking flavors to choose from. And if I've learned one thing as a checker, I've learned that people in general are VERY picky about their toothpaste.
So I grabbed one and ran it across the scanner. She immediately got even huffier with me and said, "You can't charge me for that!" I calmly told her that no, I wasn't going to charge her for it, but I still had to run it through the system.
"Yeah, but when they don't ask me up in Austin, they just hand it to me. That's how they ALWAYS do it."
Ahhh... and your M.O. is revealed! And please note that she continued to bring up this point several times throughout the remainder of her time with me.
I calmly informed her again that I needed to follow protocol and run it through the system.
Once I did, the manager override screen came up, so I called for a manager. She was becoming more agitated by the minute now. Of course, I was beyond pissed, because I DID ask her if she wanted the stupid item, but was powerless to do anything about it. It was the principle of the thing.
Did I mention it was busy in the store?? It took several minutes to get a manager over there to input the override (and they always want to know what they are overriding). I told him it was the Wow Initiative, and as I stepped behind him to allow him access to my keyboard, I whispered, "I asked her."
I think she may have heard me, but I'm not certain if it was that, the fact that the manager had to come over, or the act of my actually chucking the item down the belt for the bagger, that made the look I saw cross her face, actually cross her face.
What was that... was that... guilt?? Maybe. Or maybe it was embarrassment at having caused such a scene over a 99 cent item that she knew, and I knew, she had lied to obtain.
I pulled myself together in the less than 10 seconds that all this transpired (from manager to bagging her item) and handed her the small sack of groceries and said, with the most pleasant of voices AND a smiles, "You have a wonderful day, ma'am."
It wasn't until I found my immediate manager on my break a few minutes later, and with two other managers there, explained what happened (only to be told not to sweat it, but that's another seven paragraphs alone, so I'll skip it) that I realized that it wasn't the fact that I had to unjustly give away a basket item; it was the hypocrisy of this woman that made me so angry. Her "front" of being a good, church-goin' woman was overshadowed by the smugness and her "GOTCHA!" attitude of getting something for nothing.
I can't stand hypocrites. I can't stand liars. And I can't stand those who combine the two and then throw a smarmy smile in on top of it all. I hope Jesus really, really gets her for this one.
It's been busy at work. Crazy busy. Like "week of Thanksgiving" busy.
For those who don't know, I work part-time as a cashier at our local grocery store. I'm still considered a newb, but am finally gaining the trust and respect of my fellow baggers, who apparently refuse to bag for new checkers. Thank goodness for that, because bagging a $300 order by yourself with four other $300 orders waiting in line REALLY sucks.
But that is not what my note is about today. No, today I would like to discuss the "Wow" items. Wow items are those impulse buys the grocery store puts at the register. They are offered at a very special price and we checkers are required to offer said items. As incentive on the positive, whoever sells the most items "wins" for the week. I've won twice now, and come in third once... I think. They are not really good at letting us know, but there is money involved, so the incentive is still there to try. As incentive on the negative, if we DON'T offer the item or items, the customer has the right to obtain the item for free.
I can count on three fingers how often I've failed to offer the Wow item. No one has ever exercised their right to obtain their freebie, but I always realize my mistake within moments of closing the transaction. At any rate, sometimes I ask at the very end, sometimes I mention it in the middle. I RARELY use the words, "Do you want a Wow item?" but rather inform the poor soul on the other side of my register that, "We have this item on sale for 99 cents and these doo-hickies are two for a dollar." Did I specifically OFFER the item? Technically, no... but I certainly did bring it to their attention, and the technique is what has allowed me to win so many times, even as a newb.
So yesterday, a woman came through my line. She was all dressed up in her Sunday finery. The first question out of her mouth after I finished up her order was, "What did I purchase that was so expensive??" I pulled her order back up and she realized the cake or some damn thing she picked up was $4-something rather than the $2.50 she claimed "the sign" said. My bagger dutifully trotted off to do a price check, and we stood and chatted for a few minutes while we waited for her to return. I commented on her dress and told her it was pretty and she responded, "Why THANK you! We have a special meetin' at church tonight," confirming my suspicions that she was a "God-fearing" woman.
Hint: "Special meetin'" is code for, "I'm an evangelical and I attend church whenever those doors open because I just cain't git enough of the Holy Spirit PRAISE GOD!!"
About this time, the bagger came back and told me she couldn't find a sign (this should have been a major red flag for me that this gal was what we call a "distractor," but I didn't think much about it). The woman kept insisting, "No, it's okay... no problem.. I'll just take the cake..." So I finished up her order in my usual manner.
As soon as I handed her the receipt, she got this smirk on her face and said, "You didn't offer me a basket item."
I stopped for half a second to filter through my memory (Notice I didn't place the actual offering in my dissertation above). I responded with, "I'm pretty sure I did." Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was a battle I could not win. It was my word against hers. And who is always right? Yep. The customer.
I sighed and asked her which item did she want? She took claim on the toothpaste. I then asked her WHICH toothpaste she wanted, and she waved her hand and said, "I don't care.. any of them."
There are five fucking flavors to choose from. And if I've learned one thing as a checker, I've learned that people in general are VERY picky about their toothpaste.
So I grabbed one and ran it across the scanner. She immediately got even huffier with me and said, "You can't charge me for that!" I calmly told her that no, I wasn't going to charge her for it, but I still had to run it through the system.
"Yeah, but when they don't ask me up in Austin, they just hand it to me. That's how they ALWAYS do it."
Ahhh... and your M.O. is revealed! And please note that she continued to bring up this point several times throughout the remainder of her time with me.
I calmly informed her again that I needed to follow protocol and run it through the system.
Once I did, the manager override screen came up, so I called for a manager. She was becoming more agitated by the minute now. Of course, I was beyond pissed, because I DID ask her if she wanted the stupid item, but was powerless to do anything about it. It was the principle of the thing.
Did I mention it was busy in the store?? It took several minutes to get a manager over there to input the override (and they always want to know what they are overriding). I told him it was the Wow Initiative, and as I stepped behind him to allow him access to my keyboard, I whispered, "I asked her."
I think she may have heard me, but I'm not certain if it was that, the fact that the manager had to come over, or the act of my actually chucking the item down the belt for the bagger, that made the look I saw cross her face, actually cross her face.
What was that... was that... guilt?? Maybe. Or maybe it was embarrassment at having caused such a scene over a 99 cent item that she knew, and I knew, she had lied to obtain.
I pulled myself together in the less than 10 seconds that all this transpired (from manager to bagging her item) and handed her the small sack of groceries and said, with the most pleasant of voices AND a smiles, "You have a wonderful day, ma'am."
It wasn't until I found my immediate manager on my break a few minutes later, and with two other managers there, explained what happened (only to be told not to sweat it, but that's another seven paragraphs alone, so I'll skip it) that I realized that it wasn't the fact that I had to unjustly give away a basket item; it was the hypocrisy of this woman that made me so angry. Her "front" of being a good, church-goin' woman was overshadowed by the smugness and her "GOTCHA!" attitude of getting something for nothing.
I can't stand hypocrites. I can't stand liars. And I can't stand those who combine the two and then throw a smarmy smile in on top of it all. I hope Jesus really, really gets her for this one.
The Byers Enlightenment Post (B.E.P.) #001
Sunday, November 15, 2009 at 10:40pm
The Byers Enlightenment Post (B.E.P.) #001
Copy, Paste, Replace, Tag, and Share
* FINISH THE SENTENCE(s)
LIFE IS:
Like a box of chocolates...
No wait... that one is already taken.
Life is a never-ending cycle, on both the micro and macro levels.
LOVE:
comes in many forms. Rich is the person who experiences them all.
* SOMETHING YOU WISH EVERYONE UNDERSTOOD
Just because someone doesn't agree with you, does not mean they are wrong. It is possible to have differing viewpoints and both be right. It is also possible that your viewpoint may not be the best one.
* NAME 3 PEOPLE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO THANK AND EXPLAIN WHY
1) My four older kids. They are truly GOOD, GOOD kids. They work hard in school, they are not afraid to express themselves, and they are just all-around amazing people. On some level and in different ways, each one of them is my hero. Thank you for being an inspiration to me.
2). My husband. Thank you for being who you are and for allowing me to figure out who the hell I am. Thank you for not making fun of the weird, jacked-up philosophies I might have now and again; for actually taking them seriously. Thank you for your laughter and for making me laugh, especially when I need it most. And thank you for loving me and allowing me to cry those times when I just don't feel like laughing. Thank you for being real with me, and honest with me. I'm not fully unconvinced that we weren't lovers in a previous life, and have been fortunate enough to keep our vow to find each other again in this life. It was worth the wait. May we do the same in our next life as well.
* WHAT QUESTION DO YOU HAVE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE ANSWERED TODAY?
Why, why, WHY are some people so hurtful and mean? Is there ANY little piece of them that feels guilty for their actions?
Oh wait... that was two questions.
* NAME ONLY 1 OF EACH THAT YOU THINK PEOPLE SHOULD EXPERIENCE
FOOD: Chicken and saurkraut
SONG: Mummer's Dance
MOVIE: The Green Mile
SHOW: Lost (but you have to start at the beginning...lol)
ACTIVITY: The Ballet.
* SHARE A FAVORITE SAYING
Read the lyrics to "Rainbow Connection" by Kermit the Frog... that would about sum it up.
* WRITE A SAYING THAT YOU MAY BE QUOTED FOR
"I win!"
The Byers Enlightenment Post (B.E.P.) #001
Copy, Paste, Replace, Tag, and Share
* FINISH THE SENTENCE(s)
LIFE IS:
Like a box of chocolates...
No wait... that one is already taken.
Life is a never-ending cycle, on both the micro and macro levels.
LOVE:
comes in many forms. Rich is the person who experiences them all.
* SOMETHING YOU WISH EVERYONE UNDERSTOOD
Just because someone doesn't agree with you, does not mean they are wrong. It is possible to have differing viewpoints and both be right. It is also possible that your viewpoint may not be the best one.
* NAME 3 PEOPLE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO THANK AND EXPLAIN WHY
1) My four older kids. They are truly GOOD, GOOD kids. They work hard in school, they are not afraid to express themselves, and they are just all-around amazing people. On some level and in different ways, each one of them is my hero. Thank you for being an inspiration to me.
2). My husband. Thank you for being who you are and for allowing me to figure out who the hell I am. Thank you for not making fun of the weird, jacked-up philosophies I might have now and again; for actually taking them seriously. Thank you for your laughter and for making me laugh, especially when I need it most. And thank you for loving me and allowing me to cry those times when I just don't feel like laughing. Thank you for being real with me, and honest with me. I'm not fully unconvinced that we weren't lovers in a previous life, and have been fortunate enough to keep our vow to find each other again in this life. It was worth the wait. May we do the same in our next life as well.
* WHAT QUESTION DO YOU HAVE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE ANSWERED TODAY?
Why, why, WHY are some people so hurtful and mean? Is there ANY little piece of them that feels guilty for their actions?
Oh wait... that was two questions.
* NAME ONLY 1 OF EACH THAT YOU THINK PEOPLE SHOULD EXPERIENCE
FOOD: Chicken and saurkraut
SONG: Mummer's Dance
MOVIE: The Green Mile
SHOW: Lost (but you have to start at the beginning...lol)
ACTIVITY: The Ballet.
* SHARE A FAVORITE SAYING
Read the lyrics to "Rainbow Connection" by Kermit the Frog... that would about sum it up.
* WRITE A SAYING THAT YOU MAY BE QUOTED FOR
"I win!"
What The Government Does For Us
Monday, November 9, 2009 at 9:25am
Borrowed from my friend, Danny C. (though he probably hates being called "Danny" now... hehehe). I do not know who the original author is, but definitely worth sharing:
FOOD FOR THOUGHT - share it with your friends
This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US department of energy.
I then took a shower in the clean water provided by the municipal water utility.
After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC regulated channels to see what the national weather service of the national oceanographic and atmospheric administration determined the weather was going to be like using satellites designed, built, and launched by the national aeronautics and space administration. I watched this while eating my breakfast of US department of agriculture inspected food and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the food and drug administration.
At the appropriate time as regulated by the US congress and kept accurate by the national institute of standards and technology and the US naval observatory, I get into my national highway traffic safety administration approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal departments of transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the environmental protection agency, using legal tender issued by the federal reserve bank. On the way out the door I deposit any mail I have to be sent out via the US postal service and drop the kids off at the public school.
After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the department of labor and the occupational safety and health administration, enjoying another two meals which again do not kill me because of the USDA, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to my house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshal's inspection, and which has not been plundered of all its valuables thanks to the local police department.
I then log on to the internet which was developed by the defense advanced research projects administration and post on freerepublic.com and fox news forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the government can't do anything right.
Borrowed from my friend, Danny C. (though he probably hates being called "Danny" now... hehehe). I do not know who the original author is, but definitely worth sharing:
FOOD FOR THOUGHT - share it with your friends
This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US department of energy.
I then took a shower in the clean water provided by the municipal water utility.
After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC regulated channels to see what the national weather service of the national oceanographic and atmospheric administration determined the weather was going to be like using satellites designed, built, and launched by the national aeronautics and space administration. I watched this while eating my breakfast of US department of agriculture inspected food and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the food and drug administration.
At the appropriate time as regulated by the US congress and kept accurate by the national institute of standards and technology and the US naval observatory, I get into my national highway traffic safety administration approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal departments of transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the environmental protection agency, using legal tender issued by the federal reserve bank. On the way out the door I deposit any mail I have to be sent out via the US postal service and drop the kids off at the public school.
After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the department of labor and the occupational safety and health administration, enjoying another two meals which again do not kill me because of the USDA, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to my house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshal's inspection, and which has not been plundered of all its valuables thanks to the local police department.
I then log on to the internet which was developed by the defense advanced research projects administration and post on freerepublic.com and fox news forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the government can't do anything right.
Understanding
Friday, October 23, 2009 at 12:20pm
*Things I Don't Understand:*
I don't understand the anger.
I don't understand injustice.
I don't understand how those who are supposed to love you unconditionally, can't or won't.
I don't understand close-mindedness.
I don't understand judging me without taking the time to get to know me.
I don't understand how people can take one person's word over another, without checking with the source first.
I don't understand the breakdown of communication beyond repair, caused by words that cannot be taken back.
*Things I Do Understand:*
Warmth
A sincere heart
True Love
Soul Mates
Acceptance, even in the face of disagreement
A baby's laugh
True friendship
And the fact that while you may not be able to choose your family, you can choose whether or not to alienate them and cause pain.
True Love is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful or proud. True Love is not rude, hurtful, self-seeking or pissy. It does not gain satisfaction over winning "points" in an argument, but seeks the Truth, hand in hand with another.
True Love protects those important to It. Period.
True Love trusts those important to It. Period.
True Love is full of hope and It never fails.
If you are able to commune with The Universe Itself, but don't have True Love, then your communion is worthless. If you know the secrets to the mysteries of the universe, but don't have True Love, then your knowledge is nothing. If you do every good deed you can think of, but don't have True Love, then your life has been wasted.
True Love does not judge. It does more than just accept you for who you are, it embraces who you are and helps you find your way.
*Things I Don't Understand:*
I don't understand the anger.
I don't understand injustice.
I don't understand how those who are supposed to love you unconditionally, can't or won't.
I don't understand close-mindedness.
I don't understand judging me without taking the time to get to know me.
I don't understand how people can take one person's word over another, without checking with the source first.
I don't understand the breakdown of communication beyond repair, caused by words that cannot be taken back.
*Things I Do Understand:*
Warmth
A sincere heart
True Love
Soul Mates
Acceptance, even in the face of disagreement
A baby's laugh
True friendship
And the fact that while you may not be able to choose your family, you can choose whether or not to alienate them and cause pain.
True Love is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful or proud. True Love is not rude, hurtful, self-seeking or pissy. It does not gain satisfaction over winning "points" in an argument, but seeks the Truth, hand in hand with another.
True Love protects those important to It. Period.
True Love trusts those important to It. Period.
True Love is full of hope and It never fails.
If you are able to commune with The Universe Itself, but don't have True Love, then your communion is worthless. If you know the secrets to the mysteries of the universe, but don't have True Love, then your knowledge is nothing. If you do every good deed you can think of, but don't have True Love, then your life has been wasted.
True Love does not judge. It does more than just accept you for who you are, it embraces who you are and helps you find your way.
This WAS my status, but FB said it was too long... LOL
Wednesday, October 14, 2009 at 9:51am
Had a dream that I took a pregnancy test and not only did it tell me I was pregnent, it told me that I conceived 65 days ago. Brian and I chose not to tell our families for some reason. Then later in the dream (much later) I was sitting in a kitchen somewhere and heard a distinctive "popping" sound. Immediately, thousands of cockroaches came POURING out of the kitchen sink. Guess I'll do a little research and see what the hell it all means.
Had a dream that I took a pregnancy test and not only did it tell me I was pregnent, it told me that I conceived 65 days ago. Brian and I chose not to tell our families for some reason. Then later in the dream (much later) I was sitting in a kitchen somewhere and heard a distinctive "popping" sound. Immediately, thousands of cockroaches came POURING out of the kitchen sink. Guess I'll do a little research and see what the hell it all means.
Charter
Whereas anyone on Facebook can report any picture or profile at any time they choose and for any reason and
Whereas said picture or profile will be immediately deleted upon reporting and
Whereas I feel this is inherently unfair and an exercise in undue censorship,
Therefore, I am and will hereby begin backing up all my notes and blogs I have on Facebook to this blog. Each entry will begin with the original date of posting from Facebook so as to help reduce confusion on the part of the reader.
Accepted this day, 03 April 2010.
-Anna Marie Petroff-Byers
Ghostology with Brian & Anna Marie
Le Chic du Bitch
Whereas said picture or profile will be immediately deleted upon reporting and
Whereas I feel this is inherently unfair and an exercise in undue censorship,
Therefore, I am and will hereby begin backing up all my notes and blogs I have on Facebook to this blog. Each entry will begin with the original date of posting from Facebook so as to help reduce confusion on the part of the reader.
Accepted this day, 03 April 2010.
-Anna Marie Petroff-Byers
Ghostology with Brian & Anna Marie
Le Chic du Bitch
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Number 6
"And now number 6 on the way...."
Those words grabbed me as I re-read my last entry. I read them again.
"And now number 6 on the way...."
Unfortunately, not any more. We lost the baby on January 10th, 2010. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the ER, filling out paperwork. I signed and dated it: 01/10/10.... and I thought to myself, "I'm going to remember this date."
Even then, I knew something was wrong. I was hoping the doctors could tell me everything was fine, stay on bedrest for now...we'll check you again in a week. But the bleeding got heavier even as I waited to be examined. The ultrasound proved what I already suspected. The technician refused to let me see the screen almost immediately. She also refused to tell me anything at all.
I knew. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew I'd already lost the baby I was carrying.
She called the doctor in and after a few minutes, he confirmed it. He said, "The baby doesn't have a heartbeat." He looked at me with pity in his eyes. "That means the baby isn't alive. I'm so sorry." They told me the baby was 8 weeks old.
They gave Brian and I a few moments to ourselves, which will remain private and close to my heart. But I cried a little. Even so, I wasn't as sad as I thought I'd be. I was handling it very well, I thought.
Our first order of business was to fill my prescription. I went to the grocery store where I worked to fill it, and as soon as I walked in, it seemed like all eyes were on me. Everyone at the front end smiled and waved and greeted me with nothing but joy. And it hit me like a Mack truck. The emotional tidelwave was so unexpected that I was embarrassed in spite of myself. I managed to let my supervisors know I would be unable to work until further notice. My immediate supervisor told me to take as long as I needed.
Once home, we settled in and waited. The waiting was hard. I placed my hand on my tiny bump of a belly and waited some more. I watched TV to distract myself and talked to Brian about nothing in particular. I finally said, "I just wish it would hurry up and happen." We didn't know if it would be that day, or several days from now, so we waited.
Fortunately, the wait wasn't several days, but only several hours. Suddenly my bleeding increased as did the pain. I took a pain pill the doctor prescribed and waited some more. Within 30 minutes I had one very hard cramp, then an audible "POP!" followed by a gush. I cried out in pain, but I was alone.
Once in the bathroom, I surveyed the result to see if the miscarriage was complete. Next to a large blood clot on my pad was a tiny, tan-colored, jelly-bean shaped feature. I studied it closely. Was this it? Was this our baby? I couldn't tell, so called Brian in. He and I agreed there had to be more....that tiny thing couldn't possibly be the whole baby. We found out several days later, however, that that was indeed the complete baby. One very tiny, floppy jellybean. At the time, because I thought it was only partial tissue, I simply threw it away. Now, I kind of wish I had kept it to bury...given it some sort of ceremony... let this tiny life know that it was loved.
My grief over the loss of the baby has been an interesting journey. Many days I was surprised at how well I was handling it all. I felt rather unaffected by the miscarriage and wondered if I shouldn't be crying more; grieving more. Then someone would say something, usually I was that someone, and I would be surprised at the sudden flow of emotion and tears. My grief drug out over weeks and weeks. But grieve I did.
Many people are embarrassed when they find out I'm no longer pregnant. They are afraid to mention the miscarriage or bring it up for fear of upsetting me, I'm sure. I try to assure them it's okay... It's okay to bring it up. It's okay to acknowledge that I carried a precious life and that I lost that life after a very short eight weeks. Don't fear that acknowledgment. I find comfort in the fact that you appreciate my loss...that you can stand with me and say, "That was something special, but it's okay. Life goes on and we will not forget that little one as we move forward."
We're going to try again. Part of me is terrified to do this. For one, I'm 40 years old. But another part of me really, really wants to have just one more. So yes, we are trying again. We are trying in the midst of my four teenagers working their way through school, one of whom is graduating this year, and another who is preparing for a major surgery. We are trying in spite of our financial situation, because there is never a "good time" to have a baby. They always come when you least expect them and when you need them most. So, if the gods that be grant us one more, we will raise and love that little booger just as we have and are the other five.
Life moves forward, and so do I. Tears still come now and then, and they always surprise me when they do, but they come less frequently now. If you would like to express your condolences, please feel free to do so. It is never a stab to the heart when someone says, "I'm sorry for your loss." Each person that reaches out to touch me in that way is appreciated to my core. It's good to share the joys in life, but it's better to share the pain. It makes the burden lighter...
Thank you to each of you who have lightened my burden for me.
Those words grabbed me as I re-read my last entry. I read them again.
"And now number 6 on the way...."
Unfortunately, not any more. We lost the baby on January 10th, 2010. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the ER, filling out paperwork. I signed and dated it: 01/10/10.... and I thought to myself, "I'm going to remember this date."
Even then, I knew something was wrong. I was hoping the doctors could tell me everything was fine, stay on bedrest for now...we'll check you again in a week. But the bleeding got heavier even as I waited to be examined. The ultrasound proved what I already suspected. The technician refused to let me see the screen almost immediately. She also refused to tell me anything at all.
I knew. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew I'd already lost the baby I was carrying.
She called the doctor in and after a few minutes, he confirmed it. He said, "The baby doesn't have a heartbeat." He looked at me with pity in his eyes. "That means the baby isn't alive. I'm so sorry." They told me the baby was 8 weeks old.
They gave Brian and I a few moments to ourselves, which will remain private and close to my heart. But I cried a little. Even so, I wasn't as sad as I thought I'd be. I was handling it very well, I thought.
Our first order of business was to fill my prescription. I went to the grocery store where I worked to fill it, and as soon as I walked in, it seemed like all eyes were on me. Everyone at the front end smiled and waved and greeted me with nothing but joy. And it hit me like a Mack truck. The emotional tidelwave was so unexpected that I was embarrassed in spite of myself. I managed to let my supervisors know I would be unable to work until further notice. My immediate supervisor told me to take as long as I needed.
Once home, we settled in and waited. The waiting was hard. I placed my hand on my tiny bump of a belly and waited some more. I watched TV to distract myself and talked to Brian about nothing in particular. I finally said, "I just wish it would hurry up and happen." We didn't know if it would be that day, or several days from now, so we waited.
Fortunately, the wait wasn't several days, but only several hours. Suddenly my bleeding increased as did the pain. I took a pain pill the doctor prescribed and waited some more. Within 30 minutes I had one very hard cramp, then an audible "POP!" followed by a gush. I cried out in pain, but I was alone.
Once in the bathroom, I surveyed the result to see if the miscarriage was complete. Next to a large blood clot on my pad was a tiny, tan-colored, jelly-bean shaped feature. I studied it closely. Was this it? Was this our baby? I couldn't tell, so called Brian in. He and I agreed there had to be more....that tiny thing couldn't possibly be the whole baby. We found out several days later, however, that that was indeed the complete baby. One very tiny, floppy jellybean. At the time, because I thought it was only partial tissue, I simply threw it away. Now, I kind of wish I had kept it to bury...given it some sort of ceremony... let this tiny life know that it was loved.
My grief over the loss of the baby has been an interesting journey. Many days I was surprised at how well I was handling it all. I felt rather unaffected by the miscarriage and wondered if I shouldn't be crying more; grieving more. Then someone would say something, usually I was that someone, and I would be surprised at the sudden flow of emotion and tears. My grief drug out over weeks and weeks. But grieve I did.
Many people are embarrassed when they find out I'm no longer pregnant. They are afraid to mention the miscarriage or bring it up for fear of upsetting me, I'm sure. I try to assure them it's okay... It's okay to bring it up. It's okay to acknowledge that I carried a precious life and that I lost that life after a very short eight weeks. Don't fear that acknowledgment. I find comfort in the fact that you appreciate my loss...that you can stand with me and say, "That was something special, but it's okay. Life goes on and we will not forget that little one as we move forward."
We're going to try again. Part of me is terrified to do this. For one, I'm 40 years old. But another part of me really, really wants to have just one more. So yes, we are trying again. We are trying in the midst of my four teenagers working their way through school, one of whom is graduating this year, and another who is preparing for a major surgery. We are trying in spite of our financial situation, because there is never a "good time" to have a baby. They always come when you least expect them and when you need them most. So, if the gods that be grant us one more, we will raise and love that little booger just as we have and are the other five.
Life moves forward, and so do I. Tears still come now and then, and they always surprise me when they do, but they come less frequently now. If you would like to express your condolences, please feel free to do so. It is never a stab to the heart when someone says, "I'm sorry for your loss." Each person that reaches out to touch me in that way is appreciated to my core. It's good to share the joys in life, but it's better to share the pain. It makes the burden lighter...
Thank you to each of you who have lightened my burden for me.
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