Rosalind Franklin

This woman was brilliant. Google her for details; I'm not writing a book.

I was reading National Geographic's "The Complete Human Body" when I came across a little snippet about Franklin. Her work in physics and X-ray diffraction gave base to Watson and Crick's DNA studies and aided in the discovery of the double helix. However, her work was shown to the DNA Discovery Duo without her permission, and she received no deserving credit for her work. She was patronized most of her career. She was denied her degree from Cambridge because women were not awarded those there at the time. She received her PhD from Ohio University at least.

If that isn't enough, she gets ovarian cancer and dies at age 38. WTF?! AND THEN, the DNA Discovery Duo and Wilkins the Leaker received the Nobel Peace Prize for the work after her death! She was not eligible for the Prize because they do not award it posthumously. But, damn if she had not gotten ovarian cancer (likely from X-Ray radiation!), she would have likely gotten it!

Well, Rosalind, if you can hear me, thank you so much for pioneering DNA work and being your brilliant self.

In Memory of Nana (02 Nov 1943-02 Nov 2003)

***NOTE: This is not meant to be a religious demonstration. I am sharing the story of someone I loved dearly. So, don't click away the second you see anything to do with religion. The story is good.***

I'm not religious, and neither was Nana. Nana actually and truly believed in the Christian God. She was not a Sunday Christian, and though she was not perfect, she was the closest I ever saw to the real deal of what Christianity or any religion was intended to be if it originated from one's heart rather than the standard hypocrisy. She was not a radical. She was never judgmental. She showed love to those that the church might often shun.

So, in her memory, I will post something she wrote for the high school where she worked. It was not long after my birth, and I was her first grandchild. She worked in the lunchroom at a private school so that she could send her kids there. She eventually went on to become an R.N., and she worked in Hematology/Oncology at a non-profit hospital in her 40's and 50's. She was diagnosed with Parkinson's around age 57, and she passed away as I watched on her 60th birthday. She was very much my mother as much as my grandmother. She taught me everything from how to be a lady to how to put on pantyhose appropriately. She loved everyone, took in troubled teens, and at times was the only love ever seen by an individual.

I tried to leave punctuation and underlining just how she had it.

From The Talon, vol. XIV no. 3 Nov/Dec 1983, Terrell Academy, Dawson, GA

Memories........

I remember elementary school, ... fat crayons, big pencils, Dick and Jane, Fluff, and Spot, recess, the excitement of pictures, becoming alive as I discovered how to read!!

At home, I remember things like...The security of putting my hand in Mom's, (I still remember how it felt,) coming home from school to the smell of supper cooking; playing jump rope, or "jacks" until dark; How much fun it was to play in the mud, (My brother really appreciated my "mud pies", he even ate them!); and in the winter, riding a big sled in the snow, and lying down and making "angels" in the snow.

I remember when we lived in Idaho, how the coyotes sounded when they howled during the night, how my dad always was bringing home pheasant, deer, elk, rabbits, or even bear for us to eat. I especially remember the time my mother was so excited when she opened the back door one morning to be confronted by a black bear! (She ran, ....He ran!)

Then, as life moved on, I really felt "grown up" as I began Jr. High school. We loved our "poodle skirts", saddle oxford shoes, "bobby sox", and of course our "can-can" slips that we wore with our skirts. (Sometimes it was hard to walk through a row of seats where all the girls sat.) Now they're only worn when people are "clogging", but then we wore them every day!

And of course, we loved Elvis Presley, Pat Boone, Ricky Nelson; and songs like "Blue Suede Shoes", "Blueberry Hill", "Purple People Eater", and "Through the Green Door."

Then, High School!!! I really felt this was It! Surely nothing else in life could ever compare with all my great friends, cars that were lowered to nearly drag the ground, (otherwise you were considered a 'square'), loud music at all hours of the day if possible, and ball games. Chrysler High School in Indiana had at the time the largest high school gym in the world. It seats 10,000 people. And was full for most of the ball games. Our favorite dating game pastime was to drive through every drive-in eating place in town, drinking lemon or cherry cokes, adn of course, trying to see who could leave the most of a tire on the pavement from a standing position.

Then, came marriage, leaving home, and over a period of 10 years, four daughters; and I found that life continues to be fascinating even when school is behind us. Now at age 40, I find that life passes so quickly! My girls are nearly all grown; I am now a grandmother!!

Of course, along with all the good memories, are many bad, heartbreaking memories also, as always come to everyone.

But, the Golden Thread that runs through the tapestry of my life started the days when I was 10 years old, and I knelt down beside a couch and asked Jesus to come live in my heart. He did, and he has been there through all the good times and bad times.

Some time in all our futures, our life will all only be a memory. And for each one of us, there is a record being kept of the life we are living here on this earth. When the day comes that we stand before God to give account of how we have spent this life that He has given us, only Jesus will be able to cover for us, and even if we've lived a good life, that will not be sufficient if we have not stopped to take the time to invite Christ to be our Personal Savior. And what he saves us from is an eternity in Hell without Him.

We all feel like death only happens to "The other guy." But each one of us has an appointment also. And Dawson really has shown that death does not always take old people. I have gone to funerals of three teenagers in less than a year.

As we approach the Christmas season, let's remember that God's son did not come just so we could remember the birth of a baby! But Jesus came and lived a life here so He could understand just how you feel about life, and then He dies an agonizing death for one reason: so that you could not only have life on eart, but eternal life! As you see the Christmas lights and buy gifts for one another in rememberance of the Birth of the only one who can ever give you access into the beautiful things that God has in store for you; remember the old saying that is really true:..."only one life, will soon be past: only what's done for Christ will last."

...What have you done? I love you all,

Purpose and People

Waking up with a sense of some purpose was awesome today. What was my purpose? To go pee in a cup and be poked and prodded for my new job. I have never been so happy to do these things. My purpose was furthered by the fact that I was pretty sure I had entered heaven at my new place of employment. (I'm part of the medical world again). The people were kind, educated, and respectful. It was infectious. It almost creeped me out a little, but not enough to scare me away. I don't think they realize how wonderful their kindness was to this single girl living alone with her two animals. However, I do feel terrible for offending the nurse. I am often clueless, and it somehow escaped my mind that I am going to work for a CATHOLIC hospital, so saying "Jesus" as I stepped on the scale after having said "Jesus" before for whatever reason, prompted the nurse to say "He is our almighty proctector, and you keep calling out for Him!". Needless to say, I felt like crap, and I managed to only say one more "oh my god" I think. I love that nurse, though. She made me miss my Mama and Nana. :)

But, every good thing must end, and my purpose was replaced with hyper helpful sales associates at the shoe store. I know I am hormonal today, and I know they are just doing their job. Trust me, I've been there doing the same job. I was already tense because I'm having to shop for work shoes on a budget, and while I'm trying to make Nine West boots fit around my thick calves, one of the associates speaks to me as if I'm 5 and says something along the lines of "Did you find some boots you liked?". I was already embarrassing myself, and I saw no reason for her to speak to me loudly and condescendingly. Then, it was like I couldn't get away from all the cheerful people. They should do like we did when I was working the retail circuit. When you come across that bitch who just doesn't want any help, tell all your friends to leave her alone!

Anyway, the day seemed filled with more annoying people than I could handle, so I did not stay out for longer than necessary. Buster and Daisy were happy for me to get the hell out of their house for a change, and I can hardly wait for next week.

Aging is a bitch

Age is such a relentless bitch. I refer to her in the female form as her traits emulate that example best. She ever so slowly grows on you, leaving a mark here and there, until you are consumed by daily reminders that her presence was there all along.

Watching my father age has been the most difficult. I cannot a picture a world without him in it without nearly bursting into tears. I have always said he would live forever, and we would end up in the same retirement home, joking and carrying on as we always have. Of all the people in the world, I simply cannot have him die. Age robs him of pieces here and there. His hearing, memory, concentration, and other things are starting to deteriorate. He seems to push ever on with all the cheer and energy he always has. It's when I see him in person that I collapse inside. I pretend now that it is not happening. I go to that naive part of my mind that knows he will be here even longer than I.

As for myself, I am not yet 30, but I know that my hair is graying, and I already do not have the energy I once did for cleaning the house. The energy part could probably be rectified by exercise and better diet. I figure out who I am more and more every day, and I become much more comfortable with that daily as well. I never knew what "finding one's self" really meant until this year. I know how to recognize it on the faces of others as well. It's a wonderful thing that cannot be faked to those who understand it.

Yuck

Being single has its advantages. I am the sole decision maker, and there is never an argument. My house is surprisingly clean and decorated to my taste. Only those who are single and living independently probably know how much solace that can bring in a hectic world. No one is hear to comment on my fat ass or my cooking, and my two basset hounds are welcome to sleep in the bed cozy and curled up next to me.

However, there is also the fact that I have been especially down today and a bit under the weather. I am nauseated and have a headache, and unlike before, I have no one to baby me and tell me I will be OK. No family, no boyfriend, no husband, no kids. That is probably the one thing I miss the most--the company and caring--someone who would go find me some ginger ale and take the dogs out in the cold rain so that I could stay warm inside and recover--someone to feel my head for a temperature and kiss me good night. Some do not appreciate that from those that love them. I probably did not appreciate it enough.

But, we exchange simple pleasures for the potential of a better future. We allow logic and responsibility to override our hearts. We exist, strive for more money, and we die with no one really caring or appreciating the sacrifice. But, we don't do it for the recognition anyway. It's just the right thing to do...right?

My dog has curled up next to me. Like me, she thinks it's bedtime.

This is my third attempt at blogging since being laid off, and as I have before, I really am just blank. I can think of many different things to talk about but not just one. I figure it will be better to simply start typing and get at least some of it out.

I have discovered Twitter. It is therapy for ADHD sufferers. I love it.

I was recently inspired by my little 8 year old cousin. Adorable and smart, she shares the same interests in obscure things such as Presidents, First Ladies, Globes, and Science. She is such a sweet child, and as bright as she can be. So help me, if I do not die penniless, she will get something from me when I die. At this rate, I hate that I may very well disappoint her in that regard, but I hope I can be a good influence.

Continuing on the note of young girls, holy crap what is up with the hooch movement? The utter lack of respect for one's self is appalling in this age group of young women (11 - 22). Now, keep in mind, I am about the most liberal free-thinking person one can find (ok, well not exactly extreme left or anything), but when a girl feels like she has to give up so much of herself to a guy who will treat her like last week's Chinese food forgotten in the fridge is mind boggling.

Hopefully the next post will be better put together. This one is totally random.

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Found in some old pictures and papers:

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of these days is Yesterday with its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control.

All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday. We cannot undo a single act we performed; we cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and poor performance. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.

Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds - but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet unborn.

This leaves only one day - Today. Any man can fight the battles of just one day; it is only when you or I add the burdens of those two awful eternities - Yesterday - and Tomorrow - that we break down.

It is not the experience of Today that drives men mad - it is remorse or bitterness for something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.

Let us, therefore, live but one day at a time....

Anonymous

Laid Off

I was laid off today. In fact, my team of 4 was laid off. I truly loved that job and the people I worked with. I feel a bit sick and still a bit shell-shocked.

So, I came home and filed for unemployment, applied for 4 jobs, updated my resume on Monster and Career Builder, contacted those in my network, cut off every extraneous bill, and finally reached that point in my mind I had been trying to avoid all day.

I had to think about how my patterns are stopped. I won't be waking up and heading into work tomorrow. I'll just wake up. I cannot be without work. Much of my self worth is determined by it. Not to mention, my income has ceased, and I live alone (minus the two ever faithful basset hounds).

Oddly enough, I did not cry today. I teared up a little, but that was it. I was more sad of the loss of my team than the actual job. I had never worked with a better group of guys. I really hate to think of working with anyone else. It's almost like a divorce you didn't want, where you have to learn to eventually move on to someone else and you don't know if you can stand it.

I spent the last year pouring myself into my work. I was dedicated, loyal, did nothing wrong, and felt as if I was making a difference. Now some outsourcing firm will rush in and take over. There will be no pride in making things work and making sense out of madness. It will only be chasing many, many dollars with no care for the people they serve. Why would a company want that? I don't know. Even financially speaking, they will certainly pay more for outsourced technology than all of our salaries combined. They forget that consultants don't work for free after 40 hours or on holidays.

So, I'm up now, and of course sleep seems impossible. I hate uncertainty, and boy, am I in an ocean of it. Living alone sucked enough, but now I will be facing the days alone too. I don't think I am built for that. Then again, no one really is I guess.

Single and Scared

I came to the realization that if I have a flat tire, I'm screwed.

I have made progress by leaps and bounds in my finances since the divorce, but I'm still a long way from secure. I am grateful to be employed, and I am certainly not complaining. I know many have it worse. But, I'm not worried about many, I'm worried about me at the moment.

So, instead of buying that old world map tapestry I want so badly, I am focusing on the washing machine and lawn mower I will soon be needing when I move. I'm thinking a hand truck and some more household tools would be a good idea. And, of course, I need to work on a savings account. I'll get there. I feel like I'm growing up all over again, except this time I'm very far away from home and all by myself.

A dear friend has introduced me to Amazon's wish list. This is the best way to get a Christmas list. Maybe Mom will throw in that tapestry this year! :)

It was one of those days where everyone seemed to have lost their minds. I was nerved to the point that I was having non-existent arguments with people who had caused me grief in my mind. On the way home, after working late again, I noticed one of my beautiful storms coming in from the West as I am heading in North. I also noticed that my gas light came on.

It began to pour just as I have almost reached my apartment complex. Long day + No gas + Rain storm = Hysteria. I parked my car (after hitting the curb), and I looked at my umbrella in the back seat--and left it there. I got out and walked in the hard rain to my apartment. I rolled my jeans into capris, put on flip flops, and leashed up the dogs to be drained. I proceeded to walk back out into the pouring rain, and I enjoyed every drop. I even kicked some puddles. I forgot how much fun it was to feel water between my toes in a good rain. I'm sure I garnered some stares, but I know that one passerby in his car was smiling as if to say "she's lost her mind" or "she looks incandescently happy". I figure it's a cross between the two.

My picture is me after the rain running through the emotions of the day. I'm curious if anyone can pick out which expression goes with which set of eyes. Today, I will be happy. And, tomorrow, I will fight to win again.

Single Life

I suppose I've passed the initial process of learning to live alone. I sought and found inspiration in books geared toward women in my situation, and I cleared more from my DVR than I care to admit. I let my work consume me so that I don't have to think. I poured my heart, as always, into someone who can offer nothing in return but a broken heart.

On to phase two, I have found a place that more than suits me, and I can hardly wait to get moved. These things by their very nature make me terribly anxious, so I wish to get it all over with. Change, good or bad, wracks my nerves. Being a grown up sucks. I'm glad there is medication for it.

I am hoping to approach this next step with a different mindset. I hope to read more educational books, take a dance class, and simply enjoy the company of my heartbreaker while he will have me. Maybe I'll save enough money for that Victorian home I want so badly. Maybe I'll finally learn Latin or trace my genealogy.

Maybe, tonight, I'll get some sleep.

CLICK PICTURE FOR CBS NEWS ARTICLE

OK Nell is the woman...well, she is. She was nominated California's 2007 Woman of the Year after beating the fire out of a lion that attacked her husband and managed to flag down help and save his life.

I first heard of Nell Hamm while watching "I Survived" on Bio. She told the compelling story of how she picked up an eight foot long stick that was four inches in diameter and started whoopin' ass. I am inspired, and of course, I will find a way to apply this to my life.

Speaking of "I Survived", you've just got to love the stories from people who nearly died of their own stupidity. Natural Selection sneezed in the process. I think those people don't deserve to make the show. It's people like Nell who take matters into their own hands and just mean that they will survive. She couldn't help it that a lion attacked her husband and tried going for her. She took lemons and made some Mike's Hard Lemonade.

Thank you, Nell.

My Favorite Holiday

No matter how absorbed I am in my trivial problems, this day brings me out of it for a bit. I love my life in this country. I love that there are still safe places to go. Though at times we are one big dysfunctional family full of idiots and geniuses alike, we tend to all be on the same side when it comes to our freedom. We demand it.

I am sitting on a futon on the third floor of my apartment building watching the town fireworks shoot above the rooftops. I love the pops, crackles, and booms. I can't get over the fact that it's 63 degrees and windy outside. I miss that hot, sultry Georgia atmosphere. I am reminded of summer romances as a teenager. Intense, forbidden, and so very exciting with a bit of mystery to them. Somewhere between then and now that generation of guys lost their minds. They rush to the finish line right off the bat. At this point in my life, I'd just assume do without.

The show is over, and the crowd has cheered. We have marked our 233rd year of Independence. Nights like tonight help to foster my courage to make my move East. I am so grateful for the sacrifices of so many to be able to follow my dreams.

Piece by Piece

I found a little more of myself today. After recovering from a bit of self-inflicted trauma, I put on the mindset that I have to conquer the world somehow no matter if I was in the mood to or not.

On the way home from work, I found my hand slipped out of the top of my car window and tapping the frame to the music. I remembered how Daddy always did that. His arm was tan until the shirt line was met. He had always warned us not to stick our limbs out of windows, yet he was the fearless protector who could do those kinds of dangerous things. I realized today that it is time to grow up and be my own fearless protector (ok let's be real, I've got some fear).

So, I turned up my obscurely dated music, fought the urge to turn it down at stop signs to avoid being "embarrassed" by my eclectic taste for someone my age, and I reveled in the fact that I am who I am. I love being the oddity that I am, and I love that few people get me.

I am happy tonight, and that is more than many can say.

Collected Quotes for May 2009

Originally Posted: Sunday, May 31, 2009

1. Live your life so that you'll have stories you would not dare tell your grandchildren. -- Stephanie C. Bond

2. And the truth is, I prefer a bumpy ride. At least you know you're moving. -- Susan Maushart

3. Being an old maid is like death by drowning, a really delightful sensation after you cease to struggle. -- Edna Ferber

4. Some people are like Slinkies--not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs. -- Unknown

5. It was the most fun you have with your clothes on. -- Rick Bragg

6. The best way to get over one man is to get under another. --Joan, Sandra, and Ann

7. Don't worry about the mule being blind, just load the wagon. -- Daddy
8. And may all your ups and downs -- come only in the bedroom. -- toast in Rachel Getting Married

I want

Originally Posted: Friday, May 22, 2009

Mammaw would know what to do with me tonight. She would fold her short, pillowy arms around me, pull me close, and sing me "If I were a rooster..". She would tell me stories of angels singing, and I would be safe because they watched over us at all times because of her prayers. She and Pappaw were the only parts of Indiana I loved. They are still here, but they are unfortunately buried in New Castle, and no amount of crying I do over their bodies will bring back that wonderful feeling of their love. I thought about paying a visit over the long weekend, but then I depressed myself into blogging when I realized the only people close by that truly loved me cannot hold me.

Their daughter, my Nana, would have jumped in the car and drove up to see me. She also would know what to do. My house would be spotless, and she would cook a big pot of vegetable soup. In the morning she would wake me up with kisses all over my face, and I would giggle and hug her as I awoke. She is beneath the ground too.

Death sucks.

I would love to bestow that love on someone else, but I cannot seem to find anyone who would appreciate it like I did. I never have been able to. I give until the life is sucked out of me and then some only to be left alone like tonight questioning my self-worth as I appear to not be needed by anyone. That slight fear of dieing alone and no one discovering my body for 6 months grows by the month.

If one more person tells me to get a hobby or go out and find some "me" time, I think I'll scream. Everyone that says that has someone to go home to. I am a giver whether it be of a smile, hug, look, or love. I am not built for anything else. Unfortunately, I also have a low bull shit tolerance, and there aren't many who can stand to be around me for extended periods to begin with. This makes the whole "go make new friends!" scenario difficult as well.
I am starting to pull "me" apart for discovery. So far, I have surmised that if I did find someone, they would never be able to handle me anyway, and it's doomed for failure. I always seem to find myself wanting what I can't have.

Smiles and Magnolias

Originally Posted: May 31, 2009

I set out in search of a magnolia tree and honeysuckle. I found the honeysuckle, and I, like any other child may do, stopped for a taste of the nectar. There did not seem to be as much to extract as I remember from my childhood, but it was a bit sweeter.

I continued my walk through a very picturesque downtown. People tend to stare at me like I'm some sort of alien. I cannot blame them as I would probably stare at the strange woman who tastes honeysuckle and reaches out to touch unfamiliar tree leaves just to see what they feel like. I know there is still hope for me here. Although strangers do not smile first or simultaneously, they always return the smile I insist on giving to them. They also look a bit surprised, and I am happy to have imprinted a thought on someone's day.
I have had the first fairly satisfying weekend since moving up here. I didn't find my magnolia, but I had fun looking. I guess that is life in a nutshell. We rarely find or get what we want, but what the hell fun is it if you actually get it? It's the longing and searching that makes it worth the while in the end.

Alone

Originally Posted: Friday, May 15, 2009

I don't remember when I've felt so alone. He finally signed the papers, and I can tell he's grown colder. I am OK with that, because that is what is best, and that is what I want. He was anxious to get away once I let him know I would sleep alone tonight. There's nothing in it for him here anymore.

Old friends are gone, family grows distant with the miles, and new friends whom I have trusted more than anyone should, have pushed me away when I needed them most. My dogs don't even want to be close to me right now.
This is generally where I come in with my "I will survive" inspirational speech, but I truly don't have anything. I exist at this point. I have only myself to hold, and I don't know that that will be enough.

Storm

Originally Posted: Thursday, May 7, 2009

That beautiful storm is approaching again. It is one part of Indiana I am growing to love. It is eerily dark, as if one black cloud wrapped around the earth, and just now the flashes of lightning are flickering behind the tall brick buildings. When I was a girl, Daddy would call me to the door in a bad storm, and we would just watch. To this day it's one of my favorite things to do.

I think tonight will be a good night for sleep. I am not so lonely as I was last night, and that mood seems to come and go. Breaking free isn't killing me, but it hurts like hell.
I am off to my sweet tea, storm, and sleep. The rain has just started.

A Little Blue

Originally Posted: Thursday, April 2, 2009

I'm enveloped in a sort of peaceful sadness. The weather is gloomy with beautiful dark skies, lightning, thunder, wind, and that general air that reminds me of some spot in my early life where I felt the same way. People find happiness in familiarity. That's why it is sometimes strange to observe an abused person stay abused or a miserable person remain miserable. They know they can stop what's going on, but the security they find in familiarity brings sanity to the situation. The person is better off if they can separate; it's the separation that kills.

Bleeding Dry

Originally Posted: Sunday, February 1, 2009

It is 11:46pm. I have just watched my neighbor's car get repo'd.

I've seen it before, except last time the man was out in his yard yelling at the guy for taking his truck. And, it occurred in my neighborhood, where people were just trying to make ends meet one way or another. Now, it's different. I don't live where I grew up any more. I made my way in to one of the nicer neighborhoods locked into high rent and student loan repayments. I didn't think that repossession happened here. Everyone acts too good to look at you, especially at a Southern girl who grew up wondering if the lights would be cut off again, the child of parents who used to wonder where their next meal would come from. I guess in this economy, the repo guy isn't affected by a dirty look, because he obnoxiously kept his diesel engine running while he took care of business.

The funny thing is, here, this type of thing would be scandalous because it doesn't happen. Now, as I look out at the dark, huge townhomes trying to conceal that they can't afford to have furniture, I know that they are thinking what I am thinking. It's so easy to be the next one the Repo Guy comes after. If I lose my job tomorrow, I'm totally screwed.

I watched as he pulled the car onto the back of the truck. A small red light cast a glow onto the snow, causing the illusion of a pool of bright, red blood

I am there.

Originally Posted: Monday, January 19, 2009

Yes, I am here. I'm in Washington, D.C. for the Inauguration of Barack Obama. Yesterday, I attended the Freedom Celebration and heard, among an entourage of celebrities, Barack Obama speak. Today, at our Presidential Classroom meeting, I saw President Bill Clinton only about 50 feet away giving a great speech. He spoke to us at his alma mater, Georgetown University. Tomorrow, I am to attend the Inauguration. I cannot say how exciting this has all been. I cannot express enough how proud I am to be here right now.

As for the general mood, you can feel the excitement building in the crowds. I do see some of the locals getting really frustrated on the Metro because of all the people. After the Freedom Celebration, everyone was in unison. We were all smiling, excited, and all of the same mind knowing that being here would likely be the most historic thing to happen to us in our lifetimes.

Washington is also not short of Obama Memorabilia, good grief. If you want a t-shirt, now's your chance. I caved and bought some coffee cups, coins, and a shot glass for my baby brother who I'm sure will put it to good use.


I video taped Bill Clinton's speech today, but the way it was compressed is not allowing me to transfer it to my computer to play it on Windows Media Player. I'll try to upload to You Tube later via the camera itself when I am able to charge the battery back up.
At the First Ladies exhibit in the American History Museum, they already have Michelle Obama's picture up. My life seems more complete every minute I'm here. Being here, winding through the streets of Georgetown, grabbing lunch in Crystal City, and seeing everyone celebrating down at The Mall , makes me miss this place all the more. This is my 8th and best trip to D.C., and I cannot wait to tell my children and grandchildren and on down my stories.

Be Careful with your Topamax!

Friday, November 28, 2008

I have suffered from migraines for most of my twenties. I could feel them starting over my left eye, and as I got to my mid-twenties, they would spread to neck and tighten everything that could be tightened. Needless to say, this was negatively effecting my ability to function at work, play, and everything else.



Then, my internist prescribed Topamax 25 mg. This cut my migraines by about 75%. I almost found religion again. I was bumped up to 50 mg, and the migraines went away. I occasionally missed a day or two, but for the most part, I took my little yellow pill regularly. When I moved from GA to IN, and my schedule became more regular, I don't think I missed a day. That's when I started to notice something was wrong.



It started out with some brain issues. I wasn't as sharp as I usually am. I had a harder time getting words from my brain to my lips. I had been losing my balance, becoming short of breath, and I was feeling some tingling in my feet and hands. I thought I was just overly bummed from having moved--until I started having stabbing chest pain at age 26, had great difficulty remembering my birthday and phone number, and I kept falling over into walls.



The hubby took me to the ER, and of course, the chest pain complaint freaked everyone out. By the time they rolled me down to take an x-ray of my chest, I had lost my ability to walk. After ruling out blod clots, heart attack, and goodness knows what else, the diagnoses through me for a loop. It turns out that my Topamax dosage was too high, and it had built up a toxicity in my body. The sudden onset of symptoms was blamed on my recent strictness in taking the pill.



So, my lifesaver has been cut back to 25 mg, which still causes the above mentioned side effects. This is supposed to taper off as my body readjusts. I'm still hoping that Topamax works out for me, but I had no idea that these side effects could occur.



So the moral--be informed and watch out for side effects. Topamax is a good drug, but too much of any good thing can be bad.

Playboy Girls--Playing it Smart?

Originally Posted: Thursday, February 21, 2008

I'm up at 12:40am EST watching "The Girls Next Door" on E! I'm usually watching the History Channel, but my brain is fried. Anyway, this show is a portrayal of the real life of 3 playboy playmates.

Now before you go and think I'm about to bash them, please read on for a moment. I'm the last person to say anything about a woman who uses what means she finds necessary to survive as long as it's legal. A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do, and every situation is unique. I try my best not to stereotype these girls into half-wits, trashy, or anything of the like. But, these girls are killing me.

Ending sentences with "and stuff" and saying that's "too much thinking" is really hurting my heart. The only adjectives I've heard are "amazing" and "cute", and I'm watching one girl describe how wonderful this guy is at cooking after he created these "amazing" grilled cheese and ham sandwiches in a sandwich pressing machine.

Yet, I do wonder are they really that stupid? Or, are they simply playing the part, marketing a product, and fulfilling the ideals of their customers who are paying oh so much money to have them just the way they are. I'll at least tell myself that so that I may sleep knowing that there aren't beautiful women out there using free press coverage to take us back 100 years.
You want to know who kicks serious butt though?--Mary the secretary. You'll have to watch the show to know what I mean for now because I'm sleepy, and now something about Hollywood's sexiest people is on. Ah, the lures of beautiful people who can use that beauty to make a fortune. I can complain about their pointless conversation, but they are making millions, and I'm watching them, so what can I say? At least the economy is being fueled a bit.

Pet Peeves

Originally Posted: Thursday, January 3, 2008

1. Knowing that even though my office mate didn't answer his phone and thereby signaling that obviously he is not there, the person making the inner office call will come in here and look for him every single time.

2. People who make voices...especially sudden, obnoxious voices when you don't expect them.

3. People who make fun of nerds, dorks, etc.

4. People who are always negative.

5. If a woman is sexual in any way, she is a whore. A man can do whatever he wants, and he is the man.

6. People telling me I can't do something.

7. Loud people with no tact.

8. Condescending tones of voice

9. Hypocrites

10. Being stuck in any situation I feel I can't get out of.
OK I feel better now.

Body Issues

Originally Posted: Thursday, January 3, 2008

Have you ever calculated your ideal weight? Don't. It will depress the heck out of you if you are a typical size 14 American woman. I am 5'6", and according to this formula I have found, I should weigh 128 pounds which would put me in about a size 6. Yes, a size six. I have been blessed with a large yet perky rear end. Otherwise, I would probably be in a size 4 at that weight.

I have found that the creases I could make on my face do go away when I drink more water, so once again, Mother's wisdom proved correct. 25 has certainly been a year of body changes. I'm still able to run, but the thought of not being able to terrifies me. At what point in your life are you not able to really be active? You see these older people who long ago gave up exercise. I don't want to be that person. I want to run until I die, and dieing is something I don't intend upon doing.

It has been a great week overall though. I got my car back all shiny and new looking from the shop. I was accepted into VSU's Master's in Library and Information Science Program (MLIS for future reference). We ate dinner with my parents, and that proved to be therapeutic for me. I felt like I hadn't spent any real time with them in ages. I will be an utter mess when they are gone. I contemplated what it would be like to not be able to call my Dad and tell him about my new home I'll buy to retire in or what nursing home my kids will dump me in. I can't comprehend the days when he won't be here. I wish God would let us email dead people.I think I'm going to feed my addiction to myspace now.

Aging

Originally Posted: Thursday, January 3, 2008

I remember when my mother was 25. She received a Bible from her mother, and I can remember reading the inside cover. It was made of red, smooth leather, and everything in my 7 year old mind was at peace for some reason. I can remember Mom's hands and how they looked much older than her face.

I'm 25 now. Unlike my mother I don't have 3 children, but I feel my age is showing more than my mother's age ever thought about revealing. I'm horrified that I can fold my skin together on my face and see a temporary crease. Mom says I'm not drinking enough water. I know that unfortunately, I got my father's aging genes, and I'm doomed to ugliness by the age of 30. Mom doesn't have a single line on her face. It makes me sick.
Now, I'm investing time and money in preserving what youth I do have. I think if I lose the excess weight that will help dramatically. Drinking more water wouldn't be a bad idea at all either. I have gray in my hair, and small lines under my eyes to accent the dark circles, and I have successfully depressed myself enough to just go home and hide under a pillow.