Yes, I leave in June. Not really. April Fools!
Personally, I hate April Fools and practical jokes. I don't even want to fool my blog readers. I had to put a spoiler in the heading.
I remember one year when I was a kid my Mom told us all the snow had melted overnight. Ripped open the drapes...snow. Then she gave us forks instead of spoons for our cereal. I think I threw mine across the room. Plus it was first thing in the morning so I had sleepy crabbiness to go along with it. No more April Fools jokes from Mom after that.
I think I don't like them because it's a violation of trust. Nothing says "ha ha" like duping somebody you love. So only with a sly wink-wink, nudge-nudge and an exaggerated vocal inflection should anybody try to fool me and remain in my good graces.
Likewise, I've never been a fan of shows like "Punk'd" or even "Candid Camera." If one wants to call me a stick in the mud go ahead. We are fooled enough by politicians, our own human nature, the weather, the news media. Why make it any worse?
I should mention, however, that I've always loved the BBC's annual fake stories, i.e.;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27ugSKW4-QQ
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Distracted
I was going to write about something. I can't remember what it was. It's really frustrating when this happens. I can't think of a name or the word I want to use. I couldn't think of "windchimes" this morning when talking to my neighbor. I think parts of hers fell down on the lawn over the winter and they were finally uncovered under the melting snow.
"They" say that this is normal for folks over fifty. I'm not comfortable with that. I saw how my Mom, at 82, could only tell me if she wanted red or yellow pop (Coke or Sunkist) and wanted "Hellmann's Meat Without Beets" on her shopping list (Hormel's Chili without Beans). I know where this could be headed. I don't like it.
I still can't remember what I came here to write about today. Feh.
"They" say that this is normal for folks over fifty. I'm not comfortable with that. I saw how my Mom, at 82, could only tell me if she wanted red or yellow pop (Coke or Sunkist) and wanted "Hellmann's Meat Without Beets" on her shopping list (Hormel's Chili without Beans). I know where this could be headed. I don't like it.
I still can't remember what I came here to write about today. Feh.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Haiti and Helplessness

Go to this You Tube clip and advance to about 6minute 30seconds in.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvJ8MvUeq34
This is the way I feel about disasters such as the earthquake that happened in Haiti this week. It seems there is nothing more I can do than throw money at the problem. I cannot go and lift rubble. I have no needed skills. I don't know what else to do. The scope of the destruction and desperation is too big to comprehend.
I got sucked into some of the streaming coverage on television. Watching and wringing my hands is not going to help. I've stopped watching. I haven't stopped giving. I have exclaimed to my understanding of god that the help sent needs to be received now. That time is of the essence. That I'm helpless to do anymore than watch and demand the earth be unbuckled and the cranes in the Port be untwisted. That the suffering be alleviated.
I can write to my representatives in Washington that we accept refugees. This island, only 750 miles from Key West, Florida has three million people homeless and/or missing. We must provide sustainable shelter for them here if they wish to come. Other nations must also offer to open their doors along with their hearts and wallets. We must welcome them to our communities and support organizations that will assist in this endeavor.
It's been easy to ignore Haiti. The world has done it for centuries. The earthquake has put it in our sight in all it's usual poverty compounded a thousand fold. What else can we see if we'd only take a look? What else could we accomplish if we'd turn off the TV and actually do something?
Friday, January 1, 2010
Denial and Diabetes UPDATED
I was diagnosed with type II diabetes about four years ago. Where does the time fly?
Having a parent with diabetes I was tested quite often for the condition and always came back negative. It just goes to show that you are healthy until you aren't. The body is an evolving organism and who knows what flips a switch in there to go from cells saying "send in the sugar" to "no admittance." Or, "regenerate normally" to "go crazy and make a tumor!"
So one day the cells put up the "you can't unlock me with that crazy insulin to let in sugar" sign and I went all diabetic.
Now, my Dad was a rotten diabetic. He ate anything he wanted and as much as he wanted. He would get a bag of donuts and just up his insulin a few more units. Sure he died young and pretty messed up with cardiovascular complications but those donuts sure were yummy. I, on the other hand, just deny having diabetes altogether. I know in my brain I have been diagnosed and I take my prescribed medication but I don't believe it. Not really. I know my feet tingle and burn from neuropathy but I don't really mind it that much, I guess. I test my blood sugars and see the numbers. I know what the numbers mean. It does register.
So why don't I believe I'm diabetic? Maybe because I don't fall over if I eat candy. I don't turn yellow when there is too much sugar in my blood. I'm spoiled and inconvenienced and complacent. It's an easy disease to ignore until you are losing a limb or going on dialysis.
I'm angry, too, because there is nobody to take care of me or, even more basic, nobody to care for me. High levels of carbohydrates and simple sugars have been my drugs of choice. The trendy way to say it is "comfort foods." I call them corn flakes and pasta and cookies and ice cream. Kit Kat bars and buttered toast and sweet rolls and white rice and Poppycock.
Yes, I've cut out regular soda completely. I don't drink fruit juice. Most everything else, though, is still on my grocery list or in my pantry.
My therapist says I haven't had a crisis yet. This keeps denial a viable option. If only I could get to the crisis without the damage. If only somebody would intervene and make my life all it should be. Wah, wah, wah.
So what do I do? I'm not ignorant, therefore, I have no level of bliss in my denial. It's an argument I lose with myself most every day.
UPDATE: I'm learning to drink my coffee without any sweetening agents. I'm drinking green tea. A book I'm reading (The Chemistry of Joy) describes a Western Medicine/Ayurvedic/Buddhist-mindfulness approach to depression. It all jibes with the DM life. Who'd a thunk it? Hope springs.
Having a parent with diabetes I was tested quite often for the condition and always came back negative. It just goes to show that you are healthy until you aren't. The body is an evolving organism and who knows what flips a switch in there to go from cells saying "send in the sugar" to "no admittance." Or, "regenerate normally" to "go crazy and make a tumor!"
So one day the cells put up the "you can't unlock me with that crazy insulin to let in sugar" sign and I went all diabetic.
Now, my Dad was a rotten diabetic. He ate anything he wanted and as much as he wanted. He would get a bag of donuts and just up his insulin a few more units. Sure he died young and pretty messed up with cardiovascular complications but those donuts sure were yummy. I, on the other hand, just deny having diabetes altogether. I know in my brain I have been diagnosed and I take my prescribed medication but I don't believe it. Not really. I know my feet tingle and burn from neuropathy but I don't really mind it that much, I guess. I test my blood sugars and see the numbers. I know what the numbers mean. It does register.
So why don't I believe I'm diabetic? Maybe because I don't fall over if I eat candy. I don't turn yellow when there is too much sugar in my blood. I'm spoiled and inconvenienced and complacent. It's an easy disease to ignore until you are losing a limb or going on dialysis.
I'm angry, too, because there is nobody to take care of me or, even more basic, nobody to care for me. High levels of carbohydrates and simple sugars have been my drugs of choice. The trendy way to say it is "comfort foods." I call them corn flakes and pasta and cookies and ice cream. Kit Kat bars and buttered toast and sweet rolls and white rice and Poppycock.
Yes, I've cut out regular soda completely. I don't drink fruit juice. Most everything else, though, is still on my grocery list or in my pantry.
My therapist says I haven't had a crisis yet. This keeps denial a viable option. If only I could get to the crisis without the damage. If only somebody would intervene and make my life all it should be. Wah, wah, wah.
So what do I do? I'm not ignorant, therefore, I have no level of bliss in my denial. It's an argument I lose with myself most every day.
UPDATE: I'm learning to drink my coffee without any sweetening agents. I'm drinking green tea. A book I'm reading (The Chemistry of Joy) describes a Western Medicine/Ayurvedic/Buddhist-mindfulness approach to depression. It all jibes with the DM life. Who'd a thunk it? Hope springs.
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