Senseless rambling

I thought of writing a story once about four girlfriends who take a vacation to Scotland.

They hire a native guide - a nice looking young Scot at that - to take them deep into the forest to an ancient stone cottage they've leased for their holiday, and each woman experiences a different soul changing event on the trip.

This is purely fiction of course, because everyone knows four women couldn't get along for any period of time without some crap getting started. But that's another story.

I digress.

As they plod through the forest following the guide, one of the women, the quietest, most sensitive of the group, begins to hang back. She starts to enjoy the way the ground feels under her feet, the way the bark of the trees feels under her fingers. The air smells alive; it's more satisfying, like she's finally getting enough to breathe for the first time in her life. Everyone's laughing and chatting ahead of her like they always do, but she doesn't mind. She hopes they don't notice.

But someone always notices, don't they?

Adventures in Thyroidia - a galaxy far, far away

I had to have a nuclear iodine uptake thyroid test. It was as fun as it sounds.

It involved swallowing a radioactive pill ("like little x-rays so we can take a picture of your thyroid"), going back to work for 6 hours, and returning to the hospital to lay with my neck craned in the air for an hour and a half while they took pictures.

When I go in for the pill that morning I knew it couldn't be good when the guy hands me a vial and tells me, "I'm not touching this. Don't touch it with your fingers or hands. Don't let it touch any surface. Drop it straight on your tongue and swallow it. But it's perfectly safe."

Wow. I felt perfectly safe.

I came back later and did the whole laying on my back with my neck in the air thing. (Note to self: Don't wear a skirt when you're going to be laying on your back on a cold, hard frickin' table for an hour and a half with your neck in the air. Iron some @#$% pants!)

This huge flat panel came down over me and I'm slightly claustrophobic so it was not the most pleasant experience. I concentrated on watching the screen to try to make the time go by faster but there are only so many Star Trek/Starship Enterprise scenarios I can come up with in that position. (My thyroid looked kind of like the Enterprise with electrical issues. I assumed the crew had a run-in with Klingons earlier and Scotty was dealing with it).

Then I got to wait around to see a bored Radiologist who prodded my throat, looked at the pictures of my Enterprise, er..., thyroid, and told me in his bored radiologist's voice I had an everyday, run of the mill, big thyroid with a lump and my doctor would get back with me.

I asked for a complimentary pencil to plunge into his jugular, but alas, it was the end of the day so they must have just run out. Maybe next time.

The evening before all of this, I'd enjoyed a wonderful meal of sushi with friends and my fortune cookie said, "Others take notice of your radiance."

You can't make this stuff up.

This bears repeating right about now

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust youself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them:
"Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run--
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Not just a piece of fruit

There are a few truly delightful people in the world. Not a lot. If there were, we wouldn't appreciate them when we find them. Like too many chocolate chips in a really good cookie.

Valencia is one of them. Isn't that a great name? Valencia. It's just fun.

I met her when her mom died. She called the radio station to let us know, and of course in my newbie-ness I informed her how obits worked around there. She was kind and gracious with a voice that tinkled with humor even at such a sad time. She explained that she knew Tiffany and Bill, so I put her on hold and told Tiff - who immediately grabbed up the phone.

It turned out Valencia, her mom, and family have a long history with the station and Bill and the community that I just wasn't aware of, being new to Liberty.

She came in later that day and although you could tell she was tired and would miss her mom, joy was right beneath the surface. She had salt and pepper gray hair, gorgeous cafe-au-lait skin and wore summery sky blue capris, chunky, colorful jewelry and lit up the room when she walked in; I liked her right away.

Not a minute was wasted on a negative word. Valencia was funny, held her own with Bill, spoke about her mom with love, mentioned some projects she was working on, and impressed me thoroughly. She is an artist, musician, poet, singer, songwriter, author, and community activist. She is a lovely woman.

She is using her time and energy to focus on and create good things.

It's a choice.

When you make choices like that it carries on forever and affects lives you'll never know.

Working things out

This has been the longest week in the history of the universe. Really. From a work standpoint anyway.

I love my job, but every day lately has been a struggle to concentrate through this haze. The constant pressure to not make a mistake has weighed heavily on me.

You know, before this crap hit, I'd finally gotten to the place where the kinks were worked out. I was in a groove. I had a routine and a way of doing things and I was confident in the job I was doing.

I'm still confident in the job I'm doing, but I forgot to give my boss an important message the other day and now I know it will be a long time before he trusts me again.

Which is stupid. Because everybody makes mistakes.

I realized today that some people will only ever see the mistakes. Which is sad. because they're going to miss all the good stuff.

Top 10 Things You Should Not Do In a Drug Induced Haze (perfectly legal, prescription drug-induced haze)

1. Go shopping with a paid off credit card.

2. Confide in your mother over the phone about ANYTHING.

3. Ask friends what they really think about you. You don't want to know. Really.

4. Paint your toenails.

5. Pick movies at a McDonald's Redbox.

6. Shave your legs. Or any other part of your body. Trust me.

7. Go to work. I do it, but I have to and no one notices I'm in a drug induced haze. I'm not sure what that means for them or me.

8. Try your hand at erotic fiction in the body of an email. Once you hit send and then realize you sent it to the wrong person - well that's it, isn't it?

9. Sing in public. And by that I mean on top of a table in the middle of a high class restaurant during rush hour.

10. Post a blog.

It's always been you though, baby

In my drugged haze, it seems I slighted my favorite cute, big-boobed blonde when I mentioned the name of another in my last blog.

I feel like such a guy.

There's no way to make it right now, without offending all the beautiful, big-boobed women in my life. You know who you are.

So, to all the girls I've loved before - who've traveled in and out my door... I'm glad you came along, I dedicate this blog, to all the girls I've loved before...

Amputation is not an option

He didn't go.

In true Mike fashion, Mike the Migraine is still with me.

I woke up with him full blown this morning. I tried to ignore him and did my little exercise thing and he faded for a while, but by 8:30 a.m. it was clear he was here to stay.

If he stays true to character, I just need to find a cute blonde with big boobs and he'll disappear forever.

Amanda, honey?

Name it and it will go

My headache is better. Just when I decided to name it Mike the Migraine in honor of an ex-boyfriend who also would not leave when I wanted him to.

So, at the risk of jinxing my luck (even as I write this, pain is niggling at the edges of my brain), I'm declaring myself headache free for the first time in two weeks.

For the record, I refuse to give clean living the credit for it, even though I did go running/walking after work tonight.

And FYI - I still indulge in the occasional libation, Cat. It's good for the blood. Never fear. We will have our margarita date yet!

I miss Flaming Hot Cheetos most of all

In a desperate attempt to get rid of the headache (yes, it's still here), I have altered my lifestyle drastically.

I gave up Diet Coke. For the aspartame factor. It was nearly as hard as giving up cigarettes.

I now drink water. Yuck. I am so supremely hydrated it's insane. My skin should be glistening with dew and my extra twenty pounds should fall off any day now. Right? If any of you play the market - Charmin's stock is going to be on the rise.

I stopped eating junk food. I don't want to talk about it.

I started exercising. I've been doing yoga stretches, push-ups, tummy crunches, and this morning I got up at the butt-crack of dawn to swim some laps before my shower. I go running tomorrow.

All this and I've gained 2 pounds, my body feels like it's been beaten with a large mallet, and the frickin' headache still won't go away. I have a new frown wrinkle between my eyebrows, dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, and the almost constant urge to pee because of all the water drinking.

Hurray for clean living. Really. Yippee-skippee.

Troopers never call you the next morning

Could someone please kick me in my @$$ the next time I don't make a scene???

Once again, I didn't go to a call - trying to keep the peace in my house - and find myself scrambling the next day trying to get the frickin' story.

I hate this.

You know, I could have taken that job at Walmart. I could have. But making the right decision has never been my strong suit.

What lies beneath?

I'm trying to figure out why people lie.

I know it's for different reasons. Fear of rejection. Self protection. Plain old deceit. Insecurity - but that goes back to fear of rejection. Boredom? Do you think people lie because they're bored? Hmm. Possible.

Anyway. I was just trying to figure that out.

If anyone has any answers, feel free to type them up and submit your entry for the Nobel Peace Prize.

But don't send it to me. I won't believe it anyway.

Not only when I laugh

My computer is back.

My perspective is forever changed.

I have been in severe pain for a week.

One week ago tonight, I developed a headache. Big whoop. Yeah, that's what I thought. Until nothing would get rid of it.

Severe, ongoing agony will get your attention and hold onto it like a pit bull on a poodle. And make you think differently about things. Like how good it is to go about a normal day without pain. And how doctors don't have a cure for everything. And how some people have to live like this forever.

I underwent tests. And bloodwork. My blood is a lovely shade of burgundy. The CT scan didn't find any cats, and thanks to the Tortorous Tube of Claustrophobia, otherwise known as an MRI machine, there is proof that I do, in fact, have a brain and that my personal magnetism is not just a rumor.

All that to say this - what I have, ladies and gentlemen, is a Complex Migraine.

See? Nothing about me is simple.

The CM has firmly established itself into regions of my cerebrum where no self-respecting "simple" migraine would venture. And it likes it there. So I'm on a bunch of drugs to try to get rid of it. And not in a good way.

I'm feeling better, but every time I say that it comes back. So, shhhhhhhh!