Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Not A Bad Day

I didn't feel too bad today. I had some chest pain earlier, but once I went back to bed and slept a while, I felt much better this afternoon.

The thing is, I can't clean house or do anything constructive because of the chest pain. It's fine when I don't do anything, but once I start moving around with any purpose, the chest starts hurting. I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm going to try gradually increasing my activity, little by little; but if my vessels are clogged again, it'll still hurt.

I'm being a sad excuse for a wife. I can't keep the house clean, can't finish my painting, can't contribute any income to the household, and even the stuff I used to love doing, hurts. It's not fair to my sweet husband.

I told my sweetie, I've got to be a better person. I need to be nicer and stop being such a beyatch. I've got to do better. I don't care how much pain I'm in, I just need to do it.

On a happier note, I was in a good mood most of the day today. It was pretty outside: that perfect fall sunshine, not too hot. Tomorrow, if it stays this way, I might take the girls out for a walk in the yard. Too bad it's not fenced. I'd like to let them run free when I'm out there, but they'll run off and get into other people's yards.

I love fall. It's my favorite time of year. The weather's cool, the colors are beautiful, the holidays come: Homecoming, Halloween, Thanksgiving, the ramp up to Christmas. I love it all.

I love baking, cooking and decorating. That's one reason I need to get this house perfect: decorations! I'd like to trim the hedges outside, but hedge clippers make my chest really hurt. We'll see how it works out.

Well, time for me to shut up. But before I go, today, I'm especially grateful for: my family & friends, my dogs, sunshine, cool weather, and automatic ice makers.

Sunday, September 27, 2009


Watched the season premier of Dexter tonight. I've missed that show though I've made do with reruns. It's my favorite show right now, and has been since it first came on. Even my husband and stepkids love it.

I've had a good bit of chest pain lately and been taking SL NTG. It's disheartening, discouraging and disappointing. What good did all those caths and stents do earlier this year if I'm going to keep having chest pain? Sometimes I think I should just get a brand new heart though I'm not a good candidate. Plus, the life expectancy isn't that long after the transplant. So, it'd probably be a waste of time for me.

I've tried to tell my husband to prepare for when I die, but he won't hear of it. He refuses to let me discuss it with him and I've tried to tell him the time for planning that sort of thing is before something bad happens. He seems to think if we don't talk about it, it won't happen. But I know it's not far off and I can't talk to anyone about it. No one wants to hear it.

So, I need to get everything taken care of right now. I've got to finish painting. I think that'll be my priority tomorrow: clean our bedroom and bathroom and finish painting it. Of course, the way I feel, maybe it should be my week's priority. I know I'll have to stop and rest every four or five minutes.

I'm just disgusted with myself. I shouldn't be like this. I should be contributing to my husband's welfare rather than being taken care of by him. He worked hard in the Army and should be enjoying his retirement instead of having to work.

I shouldn't worry but it's so hard. I need to learn to let go of things that I can't help or do anything about. I spend far too much time worrying about what I should have done in the past. It keeps me from looking forward tot he future or enjoying the present. I always think of how things were and how they should have been and focusing on the mistakes and messes I've made rather than moving past them and living in the now and enjoying what I have and what I could have. I'm too concerned with what I used to have and what I don't have.

I'm going to try to do better. It'll be hard and I have no doubt I'll have lots of false starts, but I'm going to try. It's all I can do.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Actually Left the House Today

After not sleeping at all last night, I was in no mood to go anywhere today. But we went to eat brunch, then to the mall where the girl got 2 new pairs of glasses. I actually managed to walk around to a few stores. I didn't have to take any NTG (I don't think) today.

My husband is marinating Filipino barbeque. He's been searching for the perfect recipe and he thinks he's found it. He's been trying for years, keeps looking them up online. He knows the taste he's going for, but I don't so I can't help. He asked his mom, but she didn't give him the right one, apparently. He knows it involves 7-Up.

Still at a loss as far as writing goes. I have no new, original ideas and just plain don't feel any inspiration for any topic whatsoever.

Guess I just need to start writing and see where it leads. I've never been good at the automatic writing thing. I remember them teaching us how to do that in one of my college writing courses. I guess I'll try it. I mean, it can't hurt.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Odds & Ends

Found this article linked by one of the folks on Absolute Write about new life forms found in a newly discovered volcano valley in New Guinea.

I find stuff like this fascinating. Of course, DH barely ever pays attention when I mention it. If it's not some bad Filipino singer/dancer of YouTube, he doesn't care. That's all he watches online anymore. He goes straight to YouTube and looks up anything to do with Filipinos, Pinoys, Pinays, the Philippines. That's all he ever googles. I suppose it could be worse; he could be looking at porn. Not that I'd mind.

Of course, it'd probably be Filipino porn.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Musings & Ramblings

Saw this via my dog's twitter. Pretty cool. I'd watch more Disney stuff if they had characters like that. Then again, I've always liked twisted, strange and disturbing things.

Even as a kid, I loved scarey stuff. My mother told me ghost stories as bedtime stories. I particularly remember the story of The Screaming Skull. Now some would say she warped me, scarred me for life. I say, she challenged my imagination.

She also used to tell us if we didn't keep our feet under the cover during the winter, the Foot Snatcher would steal our feet. My cousins told me they still can't sleep without something over their toes at the very least, 'cause of Mama's stories of the Foot Snatcher. Neither can I.

I think kids nowadays aren't being challenged to use their imaginations. We all made up stories and acted them out in play. We had elaborate scenarios, dressed up in old clothes we found in our grandmother's trunks, imagined vast rooms in castles delineated by the roots of the huge, old oak trees, azalea bushes, and mimosa trees. The lane leading to Grandma's house was a long corridor with rooms leading off into the bushes on either side. Swords, spears, bouquets and even pompoms all came from the Chinaberry trees which grew all around the property.

We would go out and play from morning 'til bedtime and just come in to use the bathroom or get something to drink or eat.

We didn't wait to be entertained. We entertained ourselves. We didn't know what was on TV at the time and didn't care. We didn't wait for a game to tell us what to do; we made our own rules and our own games and they involved movement. If we wanted to explore a different planet, we decided what part of the yard was the new landscape and set about exploring it, making up features as we went along.

I don't want to sound like an old fogey, whining about how 'these kids nowadays have no idea how to play'. But it does make me smile when I see kids actually playing, making things up, using their imaginations. Not everything has to be planned out and spoon fed.

Sleepless in Tennessee

Once again, I'm awake in the middle of the night. I slept for a couple of hours, then got up to go to the bathroom and, of course, the dogs all wanted to go out too. We had some left-over noodles from dinner, then came downstairs. Not sleepy at all. At least, I'm not. The dogs are all sacked out in their usual spots.

I don't sleep at night like I used to. I do nap an awful lot during the day, mainly 'cause I don't sleep at night. I'm not sure why.

Am I afraid to sleep at night? Does my breathing go bad when I lie down on the bed? I have the cpap I could use. Of course, I haven't used it in over a year. It likely needs sterilizing and new tubing and masks. But I couldn't sleep with it on. In bed, I sleep on my side/stomach. The mask doesn't fit well enough to wear like that. Maybe I should bring it downstairs since I sit in my chair (the Recliner-O-Doom) and fall asleep easily.

I can't even write when I'm up like this. I can't think of a damned thing to write. My stupid WIPs are boring and I can't think of anything to do with them.

Well, I guess I'll try sleeping again. I'm feeling a little tired at the moment.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

How Sad Twitter Can Be

When I started on Twitter, I was only curious. I tweet for my little dog, Josie. Jodi & Sugarbaby's names were already taken and Josie's young so she's of 'Generation Tweet'.

At first, I followed people I knew or had heard of, people in my writing group, and a few anipals I found. Now, I'm almost exclusively following anipals. And therein lies my problem.

Several of them are sick and at least 2 have passed away since I started following. Tonight, I read another is going to be put down tomorrow. A bunny, this time.

How silly am I to cry over these animals I don't even know? Especially when there are so many other things going on in the world that many would agree are much worse. Still, it takes something small and personal to touch my heart.

I believe most people are like that. The big things: genocide, famine, disasters, mass murders, wars--these are impersonal, distant occurrences that have no real 'face' to them.

Yet the death of a single dog I only know through Twitter is enough to make me cry for days and breaks my heart. I think the key is that I've some sort of relationship with this 'anipal' through reading tweets. I've been given an insight into his life and now it's ending.

Of course, I've always been more affected by the death of an animal than a person, unless that person is personally dear to me. I believe one reason for this disconnect has to do with the fact that most people understand what's happening to them. They can take actions to avoid needless suffering or illness or death (to a certain extent).

Animals don't know why they're sick or hurt and they look to us to make them better. They didn't ask for someone to poison them or hit them with a car or beat them or make them fight. They didn't ask for slaughter. They're just going along, living their little animal lives when something happens to hurt or kill them.

Responsibilty for their welfare weighs heavily on my heart. In Genesis, God told Adam He was giving Man dominion over the creatures of the earth. In a way, He was making Man god of the animals on earth.

What kind of gods and goddesses are we when we torture, abuse, ignore the suffering of the creatures of the earth? Would we want our own God to ignore our needs like we do the animals? Would we want Him to turn a blind eye to our suffering?

I don't think so. I know I'm only one person and I'm so frustrated that I can't do more to take care of the helpless and voiceless.

I cross-stitched an angel with a prayer that hangs in our house:

Keep watch, dear Angel
And guard with Tenderness
Small Things which
Have No Words.

I say this prayer every day.

Go Dawgs!

Yes! UGA pulled it out today and beat Arkansas.

One of the things I miss most about being sick and poor is being able to go to ballgames. I'd never be able to walk all over the campus like I did before I got sick. My heart wouldn't take it. And I sure couldn't stay out in the heat of the stadium.

I remember one year playing TN and it was so bloody hot in Sanford Stadium. No air was moving at all and it was in the 90s-100s down at field level. Plus it was so crowded, no one could breathe. It was actually kinda scarey. People crowded the aisles and the crowd started pushing and people were being crushed. I remember pulling some girl out of the crowd on the steps next to my seat. She was crying, practically hysterical. Too hot down there.

I always dreamed of my husband and kids going to Athens on Saturdays, tailgating, going to the games, wearing the Red & Black, spending time in the mountains on our way back home. But, though we did that a few times, it's not like I imagined. We never had enough time or money to do it like I'd always dreamed.

Now, I'm too sick and old and poor to do anything like that. I didn't get to retire and have a comfortable end of days. Now it's too late. I didn't realize my full earning potential, and what I did have, I pissed away. I have nothing to show for all the years I worked. My poor husband should be enjoying his retirement instead of working.

One reason I wish I could become a published writer is so I'd have something to show for my 'wasted time'. My husband is so supportive and he believes in me and my writing aspirations. He's never said he blames me for our money woes though if I'd never gotten sick, we wouldn't have them.

I have the most wonderful husband in the world. I wish I could spoil him like he deserves. But I can't. I can't even make the house beautiful for him because of my heart. I get chest pain and short of breath just walking from the bed to the bathroom, much less actually DOING anything.

But UGA won this Saturday, so all's right with the world.

Go Dawgs!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Still Kickin'

Friday morning and all is ... not exactly well, but at least OK. A little bit of chest pain this morning, but it eased on rest. Still, it's irritating and not a little scarey.

I've about decided to quit writing. I apparently have no new ideas that are worth the effort and when I do have an idea, it disappears before I can get to the computer to write.

I blew all my good ideas on non-publishable stuff. I've tried to make it publishable, but it loses something in translation. I guess I just suck.

The thing is, I've always wanted to be a writer. All my life, I've written stories. I loved making up tales about things I see, ideas I have, stuff I hear. I've been doing it as long as I can remember.

But now, I can't think of anything worth writing anymore. I'm apparently too stupid since my brain damage, to think clearly. I keep coming back to the same storylines. I've tried to submit them, but no one wants them.

So I suppose I should just give up. I'll never be a great writer. Heck, I'll never even be a mediocre writer. I'm just a sucky writer.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Trying This Again

This is my latest attempt at a blog. Perhaps this one will be more successful since I'm home more than before.

I am the voice of Jodi, Josie & Baby - three rowdy little dogs, all with some pomeranian in them (Sugarbaby's the only pure-breed pom); and I am also an aspiring writer. We're all trying to get me published. So far, we've been unsuccessful.

I write fiction. Specifically, fantasy, horror & romance, all wrapped into one messy package. May even have a little sci-fi thrown in once in a while.

I've been writing since I was a kid but have been interrupted by life; things like school, work, family all have a way of pushing writing to the side.

I'm not a good writer. In fact, I suck big, ol' donkey 'nads. Every time I think I have a great idea, someone's already done it much better than I ever could.

I joined an online writer's group only to find everyone on there is much better than I am and I have nothing to contribute. It's depressing, I tell you. But I'm still trying. Rejections come in faster than submissions. In fact, I think I've gotten more rejections than I've made submissions. Not sure how that happened, but in my warped space-time continuum, it's possible.

So, we'll see how this goes. Now that I can't work outside the home anymore, I need some sort of contact with the outside world. This blog should be it. It'll probably never be read by anyone but me, but hey, at least I'm doing something.