Saturday, July 30, 2011

I have met the enemy, and she is me.

We went to our first session of marriage counseling. Ironically enough, the counselor has had brain surgery too. With a patch over his right eye, dressed in a biker shirt and jeans, he greets us:

Hi, I am Gerry.

Hi, I'm Eden.
Hi, I'm Bruce.


Despite his look, he does not talk like pirate.He gets right down to business. I explain that in addition to my illness and all the moodiness, fear and doctor appointments that have come with it, we have endured an extended period of unemployment.

We all agree that Bruce being back to work is a good thing, and regarding my tumor, he tells me to live in the moment, and plan to live, instead of planning to die. I have heard this before, but it is easier said than done. When I worked, I planned and scheduled. I do not have enough information about my brain to plan or schedule. Many say the part of my brain that does those things was taken.


We shall see what we talk about in our next few visits.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Peanut butter dreams

I am a huge fan of peanut butter. Unfortunately, it is my snack of choice even in the middle of the night. I have found that when I eat peanut butter in the middle of the night, that I have strange dreams. For example, last night I had a dream, where for no apparent reason, I was with my acoustic guitar, sitting among my co-workers from my news days playing a KT Tunstall song called White Bird. Only in the dream, I am playing the song well, and in real life, I'm still trying to play it by ear.

Out of nowhere, television news anchor Mark Hendricks, a man I have not seen since 1996, says, "That's really good, Eden."

Peanut butter also seems to work in conjuring up classmates, just as they looked back in the day. I even had a fight with one in my dreams...I still lost the fight.

Same with ex-boyfriends or crushes. In the peanut butter dreams, ex-boyfriends come back, and crushes are reciprocated.

Time to rest on Sigmund Freud's couch and ask him what this all means.


I can already forecast his answer:

Get over yourself, and stop eating peanut butter!



Saturday, July 23, 2011

Another rock star for Jesus.

Troubled singer Amy Winehouse was found dead today at the age of 27. What is it about the age of 27 and rock stars?( see Curt Cobain, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin). Anyway, like so many before her, she most likely died of an overdose. Did she have talent? Talent is in the eyes and ears of the beholder. Personally, I found her signature tune "Rehab" catchy, but in light of her death, it plays like an epitaph, not an R&B inspired pop tune. In the CD from which it came, there are other songs about demons, be they bad relationships, boredom, or depression.

I always felt guilty about liking any song of hers, because I felt I was somehow tacitly endorsing her behavior. I don't.

Amy Winehouse. Now you truly are "Back to Black". I will play your music when I need a cautionary tale.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Random thoughts.

I guess that's the nature of having a head injury. The holes in my head are like sun spots, causing random flickers of light and darkness.

I read a blog post about regrets, and it made me think of mine.
  • not having a boyfriend in junior high or high school--my female friends don't understand this. These female friends by the way had plenty of boyfriends, and I was lucky enough to live vicariously through them. Anyway, having a boyfriend seemed like a rite of passage that I missed out on. Also having a boyfriend in my younger years might have prepared me for college men. I will always believe that the reason I didn't have a boyfriend until college was that I was too ugly when I was in junior high and high school. My senior year I looked as good as I ever did, but still had the baggage of the years that came before that. Anyway if you think that looks don't matter. Ask yourself what makes you want to purchase a car or an article of clothing. I would submit that the look of the car gets you to go for a test drive. Then if the thing drives well, in addition to being hot, you've just committed to 36-60 months of payments. Even houses have to have "curbside" appeal. I didn't have curbside appeal.

  • cancer--there are already things I am missing out on because of my disease: driving, and working, but I also regret what I may miss out on in the future. My goal is to live to see my son graduate high school, but that may be too much to ask for. On the plus side, I know so many people with life-threatening or chronic illnesses, and having cancer I hope has made me a better sounding board for those people.


  • not having a biological child: I do love my adopted son, but I always thought women were supposed to have babies. I was given a womb, even menstruation, but no eggs, so I have on many occasion felt, at best, inadequate, and at worst, a little cheated.
I will leave with you with a wonderful line from my husband:

I'm not interrupting, you just aren't thinking fast enough.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Veruca's back!



Just to get you up to speed. Veruca is what I call my plantar wart(s) because another name for a plantar wart is Verruca Plantaris. Why she decided to make me her host I will never know. But she loved me so much she multiplied and divided and colonized my heel. I did the home remedies--the duct tape, the acid creams and plaster bandages. Finally one podiatrist gave up on me and sent me to another for laser surgery. It is too bad I like to walk, because you can't after laser surgery.. here's why:


First week in August, I will go to the dermatology department at OHSU. I hope that whatever they decide to do with me, that I will be able to walk, specifically the Brain Tumor, which is also in August.

Speaking of my brain, chemo comes tomorrow, and the next week I swallow it.

Try not to be jealous.

Monday, July 18, 2011

the weekend


Friday: our family went to see the second installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Some Potter fans are upset that the kids aren't kids anymore, and that the movies have gotten increasingly darker. I loved the last film because the nerds are rewarded. Ron gets the girl and Neville summons the sword of Griffindor, and kills the final horcrux. That said I think one needs to have read the to understand the movies. Certain scenes get less treatment in the movies than in the books. For example, the relationship between Snape and Harry's mom is glossed over in the movie.

Saturday: I went to the wedding of my friend Sandy's son, Cory. I met her in elementary school, and have kept in contact with her, despite her moving several times. The bride and groom had looks of both excitement and horror on their faces. Understandable. I think most people get married with the best of intentions, but it is work, because people can change, circumstances can change. Specifically, your spouse can't stay the cute twenty-something. Your spouse may get sick or lose a job. Your spouse may not be able to produce for you that son you always wanted to play ball with..Then what?

I enjoyed going to the wedding, because it gave me a chance to see Sandy and our friend Carrie. Back in the day we were partners in crime. I recalled the time that I was left home alone when my folks went out. I was a teenager. Sandy and Carrie came by with two young men I had never seen before. Still I invited everyone in. The folks came back to find me chatting with Carrie and Sandy, and the dudes. My dad was so angry he couldn't speak, and my mom was left to read us all the Riot Act. At the time, I didn't see the problem. These guys weren't my guys. After my mom's speech, I got it. a picture from a slumber party that included Sandy and Carrie.

Bold
Carrie has the red hair, I have the glasses, and Sandy is sitting on the other side of me. They are very cool people, and I don't think I would have survived Junior High and High School without them.

Sunday: We had my friend and classmate Travis and his wife Heather over for dinner. It turns out Travis has similar musical taste to my husband, Bruce. The the evening included a dinner of grilled chicken and veggies, corn on the cob and a delicious lemon pie prepared by Heather.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

What does it mean to love yourself?

I have been told I have to love myself to be loved. For reasons I may never understand, I find it hard to love myself without the validation of others. And I have difficulty telling the difference between loving myself and being conceited.

Getting off social networking is part of my learning to love myself, again, because relationships based on social networking are meaningless, and as much as I may miss sharing a funny video or a random idea, I don't want meaningless relationships. I'm doing a bit of emotional de-bulking, by maintaining those relationships that mean something to me, and the other person.


And I don't want the distraction of social networking as I try to get my house in order.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

stressers

I have mentioned that cancer is hard on a marriage. During my journey, there have been times where my husband has not been able to accompany me to critical appointments, so I have felt like he's out of the loop, only he knows whether he actually IS or not.


This brings me to stresser number two. He was out of work for two years, which hurt his ego, and depressed him, and he turned to online games for comfort.

Thankfully, he started working again this past June, which is great, except for the fact I can't take my son places, because I shouldn't drive.

So it's time to see if counseling can improve our marriage, and if he is strong enough to be my man. I'm not sure anybody is.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Healing time at the beach






My recent posts have been very negative. Thankfully, this past weekend, I got some healing that was long overdue.

My sister has a beautiful beach house in Manzanita, Oregon, a beach town just south of Cannon Beach. One need only step outside to get spectacular views. Above are pictures I took during a short walk.

My family and I also had a very fun time heckling two of the worst movies ever made
Dunderklumpin and Manos: The Hands of Fate.

The first one has a nice premise. It's a holiday movie about how "treasure" can be found non-material things. However, it plays as if everyone involved in the film was taking drugs. With the strange music and editing, it is a wonder anyone can follow the "plot." Our nephew Simon was offering a running commentary regarding the many problems with this movie and I laughed so hard I cleared my lungs on several occasions.


The second movie was my husband's contribution to this bad movie festival. There are so many things wrong with Manos, I can't separate them all. But for starters, it was made by a fertilizer salesman from El Paso, Texas. The sequence where the family drives through the desert lasts way to long, and it was shot with a camera that could only shoot I think 30 seconds of footage at time. It shows.

Watch these movies only if you want to punish yourselves.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Done with Facebook

For my reasons, please read previous post, and I do hope this time it's for good.

Facebook has ruined friendship and love

My friend Carrie and I have had this conversation. We don't like how with FB you can "friend" someone you don't care about. It was with this in mind, that we pared down our old pages and started new ones, the idea being that the friends on our new pages would be our real friends.

That said, one of my "real" friends has over 500 FB friends. The egotistical part of me wonders where I rank..499 perhaps?

I also see the word "love" bantered about. For example "love you!" someone will comment or post.

I want the word love to mean something. And I want to know who my real friends are.

for no one (revisited)

read or sing to the tune "For No One" by the Beatles

You waste time
past your prime
and still you think that
that everyone can see you
he no longer needs you

You get sick
he leaves town
and then he wonders
why that hurts you
he no longer needs you

and in your heart
you feel nothing
what good are feelings anyway
you cry for no one
and wish your problems away

You lose steam
but you dream
you dream that someday
he'll appreciate your efforts
but he doesn't need you

You're selfish
still you wish
you wish that when you pass on
that he won't forget you.

But from his heart
you feel nothing
no sign of love behind the words
but he keeps talking
too bad that you cant hear a thing.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

The Princess and the Prune Prance through Pendleton

The Prune says to the Princess, "I'm looking for adventure. Can you take me on your quest to meet the cowboy from Idaho known as CMC?"

"Sure Thang Honey!"

The one called Prune was aptly named, because at age 44, her skin was rather wrinkled. The one called Princess was also aptly named. Tall and beautiful, she was every cowboy's dream.

And so one day, these two opposites drove the dusty highway in a red bug, armed only with cookies and enough clothes for overnight. About mid-day, they got tired and pulled over and checked into the nearest motel.


Princess gets a ringy dingy.

Princess? This here is the cowboy CMC. meet me for grub at sundown.

Can I bring my friend prune? She's extra ripe.

Well. I'm not big on prunes, but I'll try one.

It should be noted that the cowboy CMC was also an outlaw, wanted in several western states for stealing horses and bibles. It was the princess and the prune's goal to bring him to justice. Having grub with him would give them their chance.

CMC, Princess, and Prune met up at an old saloon in downtown. Princess and Prune were in their cowgirl finest sitting having beers, when they heard the sound of spurs--kching, kching, kching.

"Hey You!" Princess says to CMC. "Mighty good to see you."
"Pleasure's mine Little Missy,"CMC responded in a voice barely audible.
Prune, easily offended, got red in the face and demanded, "Who in the hell are you calling 'Little Missy?'" and kicked CMC in the knees, and then threw her bag of cookies at him, leaving quite a mark on his left eye.

"Good job, Prunie!" Princess said. "I'll tie him up and we can put him in the back of the bug and take him to jail."

And they did just that. Their reward? Two dollars.

And a dozen cookies

Monday, July 4, 2011

Comments Welcome

Please use this opportunity to tell me something you want me to know before I die. Self-serving, but sue me.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

messages unsent

Dear Scott and James, if you had a retarded daughter, would you still think it funny that the popular boys pretended to want to go out with her? This message also goes to anyone who knew about your evil prank. You have no idea how much that hurt me. My problem...just oversensitive.

Dear mean girls, if you had a retarded daughter, would you want others to threaten to beat her up...just because? My sister actually thinks you made death threats. Your lucky that if you did, I don't remember.


Dear Creator, Do you really love me if you allow me to me to roam a world that doesn't belong to me?

I'll take my answer off the air.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

my fantasy world

I am 5 foot nine and my name is Roxanne. I have long hair and it looks great wet. I brush it and guys want to ask me out. They ignore my companion who looks like a kindergartner. If she just told herself she was as perfect as I am, she would be, but she just wants to whine and not do anything about her circumstances. She has the nerve to eat when she is probably 100 pounds overweight.

My God screwed up making her and now Darwin is taking over. It is no accident that she was made of such faulty material that God didn't want to pass it on. Also she has a brain tumor. Again, faulty material. Sure, her parents think she's perfect, but now, it's her peers she's has to live with.

She is good, but not great, and it can be painful to be merely good in the midst of greatness, and with a brain tumor, one can only cling to the fantasy of greatness. Fantasizing can be better than realizing.