Monday, September 23, 2002

The Lost Weekend

Well, I should have known it was coming. The wicked-step-sister to the mother-of-all migraines hit me Saturday morning when I awoke. For the past two weeks I have been getting “auras” which are usually a pre-courser, a nasty little sign, of impending pain.

What’s an Aura? To the best of my descriptive ability, here goes. Have you ever seen a photograph of traffic or moving lights shot with a really, really long exposure? The kind where the lights on the car are smeared halfway or all the way across the print? The lights look like long snake-like tubes of neon. That is kind of what an aura is like for me only the neon sparkles a bit and moves very snake-like and fast from the far corner of my peripheral vision down an imaginary diagonal line like a downhill ski jumper.

They come from out of nowhere. I’ll be sitting at my desk doing whatever and I’ll look off to the side and there they are. It’s like my own personal fireworks show but without the boom and they always mean a migraine is on the way.

So, Saturday, I wake up about 11 a.m. after having what I thought were a restful 11 hours of sleep. I open my eyes and groan. There it is, that throbbing in the right side of my head and the dull ache that is over my eyes, in my temples, over my ears, down my neck, and back up to the other side of my head. I sit up and immediately feel the beating out of some tribal call for the demons of pain to dance in my head. Their claws kneading and digging up little pieces of my brain as they make their space comfortable—I know they are going to stay a while.

My head hurts so badly but, silly me, I think this can be cured with some Naprosen. So, I pop two of those babies along with some stronger-than-normal Verapamil make some really strong coffee and hope for the best. Two-and-a-half hours later I am more miserable than I was before. Time to up the meds. Now, in addition to the pain I have nausea. So, it’s Darvocet and Phenergan to the rescue. I lie down to take a short nap and hubby wakes me up at 3:00 p.m. I am groggy but feeling a bit better. Not wanting to lose a whole Saturday I jump on the chance to go watch the Notre Dame game at a local sports bar when a friend calls. So, Hubby and I are off.

We arrive, I am feeling just so-so but want to make the best of it. We order drinks and some appetizer-type food. I eat a little bit but can tell I am not doing great. After drinking a coke and eating some buffalo shrimp (which under any other circumstance would have been quite good) I am getting worse by the minute. I excuse myself, go to the restroom and proceed to lose my lunch. Normally this will buy me a reprieve of at least 45 minutes. I make it back to the table, determined to last the rest of the game pop some more Darvocet and Phenergan and try to enjoy myself. H, the friend who invited me, comments on how glassy my eyes look and how pale I am. I tell her I’m fine. Well, needless to say I ended up back in the ladies room about 30 minutes later. I am officially sick-as-a-dog. I make my apologies and excuse myself.

Hubby is just as sweet as he can be, I lie the seat back and try to block the sun for the ride back home. He stops and gets me some Saltine crackers and a Sprit as those are the only things that will sit on my stomach. I make it home, stumble to the bathroom, time to up the meds again. This time it’s Lortab 7.5 (generic Hydrocodone) and 50 mg of Phenergan If this lovely little cocktail doesn’t work I will have to go to the emergency room—been there, done that, don’t want to do it again. I turn the air down to about 60, close the blinds and drapes, drink some Sprite, and crawl into bed at about 5:30 p.m. Fortunately, it worked and by 10:30 p.m. when I awoke, most of the demons had gone back to hell. I was still way under the influence because I was feeling NO pain anywhere. Everything had quite the surreal quality to it—everything was just out of reach if that makes any sense.

I was hungry so he drove me to get a burger from Wendy’s and it stayed down! I took some more of my miracle cocktail and went back to bed about 12:30 a.m. and slept until 12:30 p.m. Sunday. I woke up and still had the headache but not as bad as before. This time I backed down the drug chain a bit and went back to two Naprosen and another Verapamil. By 6 p.m., I was fine. And, I am happy to report that as of Monday, September 23, 2002 my head is back to normal. Well, as normal as my head ever gets anyway.

It's finally here--my favorite season. I can't wait for the temperature to drop, there to be a crispness to the air. I love walking out in the fall when it's like 60 outside... just a little bit of a chill to the air...and turning to see the beautiful array of colors painted against the sky. Seeing the oranges, reds, greens, browns, deep purples, and yellows lifts my spirits. Anyway.... just wanted to wish everyone a Happy Autumn!

Thursday, September 19, 2002

Observations and Musings

I have some thoughts on life, religion, love, and the like but I started this other blog yesterday so I finished it today and decided to go ahead and post it. I still need to sort through some of my other feelings before posting them.


Apathy—something I absolutely despise in any form and right now it’s mostly what I feel. I guess I feel numb. Have you ever bitten your tongue just so it would hurt?


This morning on the way to work I passed a truck whose side banner was advertising kitchen counter tops. There was an attractive woman, probably in her early 40s or so, who was dressed uber-conservatively in a black pants suit and high-necked red shirt lying on top of the countertop, hand propping up her head, in a very suggestive pose. It was like she was saying “Hey, middle-America; wanna do me on the Corian?” I laughed out loud.

On a billboard I saw the following advertisement for Carowinds Theme Park.

Scary - Anna Nicole Smith
Scarier – Scarowinds

Again, me laughing out loud. You see, Anna Nicole Smith is someone I just don’t get.
Even before she gained weight, which wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t choose to wear such revealing clothing, I just didn’t see the appeal. It’s like Brittany Spears. Sure, they are/were beautiful to look at but they open their mouth and you cringe; well, I cringe anyway. Are American men so caught up in a tan, toned body, a great ass and a perfect pair of breasts (surgically enhanced or not) that they are willing to completely ignore what’s between the ears or rather a lack-thereof? Is there no interest in intelligent or at least interesting conversation? Everyone knows that the physical is ephemeral. Wait. Maybe that’s the problem; maybe everyone does not know.

I once had a conversation with a guy who told me that men can look at a woman and in two seconds flat determine whether or not they would ever consider being with her. I said what about personality, character, political leanings, a sense of humor, goals, aspirations, and religious compatibility? Don’t those count for anything? He said well, yes, but none of that matters if she I wouldn’t “do” her. I was so turned off by what I thought was his narrow-minded, extremely shallow way of thinking but then I thought…what percentage of men feel the same way he does? For that matter, what’s the percentage of women who feel the same way?

If the physical is all you’re after, what happens when the body starts to age?

I am noticing things about this “physical” that are making it obvious time is taking a toll, albeit at this point it’s a relatively small one. One day you are 20 and the next you are 30. It’s like 10 years passes in the blink of an eye. In my mind I don’t feel any different than when I was in college. Yet whereas I could get by with only 5 hours of sleep when I was 20 at age 30 I need at least 6.5 to 7 to function properly.

I was taking off my eye make-up a couple of nights ago while talking on the phone to one of my roommates from college. It was her birthday, she is 33; I will be 31 in one month and two days. I looked down into the drawer where my toothbrush, toothpaste, and all other manner of line-reducing creams filled with stuff to counteract the free-radicals that are apparently waging a war on my face. I commented on how I have noticed these little lines around my eyes when I smile and how I have “crow’s feet” in the corners when I squint. She said it only gets worse, especially after you have a child because the lack of sleep only emphasizes them even more. GREAT! I can’t wait! Hubby says no one can see them and that I really look like I am in my 20s. Of course, he is a bit biased.

National Public Radio

Every afternoon I get in my car to go home and I am torn. At the end of the day when I am tired and need a lift, do I listen to the funny show with cheap laughs and low-level humor? Or do I turn to NPR and try to catch up on the news from around the world with its sophisticated and intelligent commentary—decisions, decisions, decisions. I have been back and forth lately switching between the channels. I listen to All Things Considered until the commercial and then I switch to the funny show and then when they go to a commercial I switch back NPR. I need some intellectual stimulation to let me know there is more going on in the world than the drivel I sometimes deal with at work. On the other hand, listening to the DJ’s banter about the mishaps of their lives is sometimes just what I need to make it through the rest of the day.

Hmm.... Trying to add comments..... hmm.....

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

Time Zones

Last week I traveled to the only state that does not participate in Daylight Savings Time: Arizona. So, consequently, there is a three-hour time difference from North Carolina to Arizona instead of two. It is now Tuesday and still my body is a little freaked out. I am exhausted but haven’t been able to sleep very well since I got home. So, here’s the deal: what happens to the three hours you lose/gain when traveling?

Traveling long distances seems to eat up time that you never get back. My original flight left at 11a.m. I got up at 6:30 to finish packing and get ready, arrived at the airport by 9:15, flight left close to on time, was in the air for 3 hours 50 minutes, arrived in Phoenix at around 3 but there it was noon-ish. By the time I arrived at the hotel, checked-in and unpacked it was 5 p.m. in North Carolina. I had spent an entire day doing nothing but packing, getting ready, traveling, and unpacking again. The same thing happened on the flight home as well… left at 9 a.m. and arrived home at half after 4 p.m. My body clock got off schedule when I left and now that I am home still it is not back to normal!

What happens to that time? I gained three hours on the way and lost them on the way back. Where did they go? Did I really travel back in time in AZ and then into the future in NC? Glad you took the time to read this eh? BORING! I know. I will try to put a little more effort into the next one because I do have a few things to say… just not right now.

Wednesday, September 11, 2002

Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Well, I am off. My company is having an convention in Phoenix, Arizona this weekend and I am going to be working at the education booth. I am a little bit nervous about flying tomorrow being that I have a direct flight from the Charlotte to Phoenix. I guess it's just my paranoia creeping up. I am sure I will be fine (please, God!?!) So, blogging will have to wait until I return on Monday. I am going to take a journal with me and attempt to do this longhand.... we'll see how long that lasts as sometimes I can't even read my own writing!

So..... so long, farewell, it's time to say good bye....

A Sign of Hope

At 7:35 thie morning I was, as usual, crawling down I-77, approximately 7 miles into my 25 mile journey. Up ahead in the distance I saw a flashing road sign, the kind used to warn about accidents and I immediately cringed because an accident that deserves roadside warning usually means traffic is backed up and I am going to be late for work. I was prepared for the worst but when I approached the sign tears formed in my eyes and to my suprise it read "God Bless the USA. Have A Great Day!" Wow. It never ceases to amaze me how the smallest thing can take on a whole new meaning in light of events past.

Today, of all days, I am thankful to have been so truly blessed. I have come to understand how precious and fleeting life actually is. My prayer is that we will not take anyone, or anything for granted.

Tuesday, September 10, 2002

The D.M.V. (insert long list of expletives here)

So, last Friday go online to the DMV site to pay my property (car) taxes and renew my vehicle tags/registration since they expired in at the end of August. I paid off the loan on my car in July and when I got the title in the mail it was from Texas. So, I called the DMV to find out whether or not I would need to transfer the title to NC before I could renew my tags. It was then that I discovered I had been issued an “Emissions Penalty Fine” in the amount of $286.00 that would have to be paid before I could renew my tags. Apparently when I renewed my tags last year I only had a limited amount of time to have my car inspected in the “emissions controlled county” even though I had a perfectly good inspection sticker (from a non-emissions controlled county) that did not expire for 8 months. In October I got a letter from the DMV that said I needed to get my car inspected but they did not however tell me I would be issued a penalty of $286.00 if I failed to do so. No one at the DMV explained the difference in the inspection process between the non-emissions controlled verses emissions controlled counties. According to the lovely lady at the County Office of Emissions somehow I was just supposed to know.


Wednesday, September 04, 2002

Charleston and Children

We went to Charleston, SC this weekend to visit Hubby’s best friend—R who was a groomsman in our wedding. R has been married three years to P; they have a two-year-old little girl and baby number two is close to arriving. I felt really old while I was there. Hubby – 28; R – 28; P – 25; Me – 30. K, the daughter, is really adorable. I wish I had just an eighth of her energy. I had a wonderful time visiting them. It was great to see Hubby so relaxed and happy. He and R were in rare form. They have been friends for like 15 years and have a thousand stories of all their stupid antics and pranks. As I sat there listening to them I realized something. I think I missed out on a lot of “being a teenager.”

I never skipped school or went toilet papering or to parties. I was too scared to sneak out of the house or let someone in. I never did a lot of stupid stuff that teenagers do. I was always the “responsible” one. I was that one whose friend’s parent’s said…. “Well if she is doing it then it must be OK for you to do too.” I was hell-bent on growing up and getting out—being “mature” on my own. I didn’t seem to have a lot in common with my peers and got along better with their parents. I always hung-out with the older kids and had very few friends my own age. I was also scared to death of what my parents would do to me if I screwed up. Early on, it was made very clear to me what the rules were and that there would be dire consequences if I chose to disobey them.

So, impending birthday anxiety is coming on fast—in less than two months I will turn 31. I DON'T WANT TO TURN 31. I want to be that silly teenage girl I didn’t get to be. Being 31 means I am firmly planted in my 30s and I have to leave all silliness behind. Right?

I am already stressing about B-day for several reasons one being children. See, I want kids, (yes, hubby, I know you think I don’t but I really do) but I don’t want them right now. I have been married one year and I want my life to settle down just a wee bit before embarking on the journey of a thousand diapers, runny noses, Teletubbies, and worst of all—Barney. I just don’t have the baby bug as of yet. The problem is this: hubby does have it; he wants to start a family now. I want to wait a couple of years. I am just not ready for children.

I think part of the reason I don’t want them right now is that I am finally getting to know a little bit more about me and I actually like who I am, for the most part. I have more fun now than I ever did when I was a teenager or mostly even in college for that matter. I laugh a lot more now and am less concerned with the opinions of others. I am scared to death that having children will change that. Children are completely innocent beings and need a protector—someone to shield them from all the bad things in the world. I don’t want to turn into my mother just yet. I love her but I don’t want to be her.

Maybe it’s just an issue of freedom. We are free to go to the 11 o’clock movie or a concert or play on a whim. I am free to meet my friends or co-workers for a drink after work or call and have a “girls night out” without having to plan far in advance for it. I know there will come a time when my desire to have children outweighs my desire for freedom as of now, however, it doesn’t. Does that make me a bad person?