it’s my blog and i’ll cry if i want to

[because i’m in one of those moods, here this is – but have fun with it!]

Blog Disclaimer
(also Social Media Disclaimer)

This is my own personal webspace that I buy (rent?) from Crovean Websolutions. Given that I pay for it with my own money, I reckon I’m free to write about whatever I want in this space as long as I don’t violate my host’s terms of service.

So I discussing my problems with panic disorder and ADD/ADHD. I discuss my writing and publishing adventures as well as the misadventures. I’m a fan/supporter of Apex Publications. I have a son with a kidney transplant; I discuss him often. I also have a son who’s a Marine; I tweet about him more often than I blog about him. #semperfi

Having said all that, most of my posts fall under the “daily” tag. Although sometimes many posts, or no posts as the case may be, fall under the “zombie apocalypse” tag. Yes, I have a tagcloud instead of a posts cloud. The larger, darker tags are the ones with the most posts. The smaller, paler tags are the ones with the fewest posts. You’ll notice a “family” tag. That’s one of those “taboo” topics I don’t go around much; my life is much saner that way, and I’d like to keep it that way, thankyouverymuch.

Please don’t come to my own personal webspace only to promote your books/movies/organizations/personal agenda/whatever. I consider such comments spam/annoying, and I will block your ip address. I do have the right to delete comments which I find offensive. I also have the right to block/ban the ip address of known trolls/problem people.

If you interact with me with the sole purpose of telling/informing me of everything I’m doing wrong, I’ll block you. If you interact with me and treat me like a complete idiot, I’ll block you. If I say you’ve strayed into territory I refuse to discuss on the internet, if I tell you to back off, and you don’t, I’ll block/ban your ip address.

If you’re afraid of Pagans, the eff word, or anything having to do with anything out here in the Really Real World, don’t follow me. Anywhere. Please. Don’t preach at/to me. It will serve only to piss me off – and end up with your ip being blocked.

If you like your life, your world, your universe, candy-dipped and covered in sprinkles, don’t follow me. If your posts are touchy-feely quotes or sugary sweet life is nothing but rainbows and unicorns unrealistic fluff every time, I’m not going to follow you. I’m a realist. I sugarcoat nothing for no one. I’m so totally not your target audience.

That all said, because this is my own personal webspace after all, if you don’t agree with what you’re reading here, why are you here?

Please don’t come to my own personal webspace only to promote your books/movies/organizations/personal agenda/whatever. I consider such comments spam/annoying, and I will block your ip address.

If you’ve posted four comments or fewer, your comments go into my spam queue. If your comment contains two links or more, it goes into my spam queue. I receive e-mail each time a comment is held for moderation.

In an effort to combat spamming and trolling I’ve turned comments off on all posts older than fourteen days (that’s two weeks).

As for the me who’s out and about on many social networks:

I auto-block those who are:
in any way abusive
won’t let go of an argument
a bot of any kind (spam or otherwise)
only going to send me automated DMs
only going to communicate with me via DMs

If you’re a marketer/coach/trainer of any kind, I’ll block you.

If you add me on any social network, I’m under no obligation whatsoever to follow you back. Following back, contrary to popular belief, isn’t a requirement of the social web.

If we’re in a group together or if you’re a writer, don’t expect me to accept your friend request based on that alone. If you’re friends with my friends, that doesn’t mean I am or want to be your friend. If we’re friends on another network, that doesn’t mean I want or need to be your friend on all of them.

Follow me because you find my tweets and/or blog posts interesting and because you would like to get to know me/my writing/my life better and engage in real conversation with a real human being. Follow me if you want to interact. I might follow you back if I’m not feeling “follow overwhelmed” – I do respond to honest mentions (that aren’t spam)!

I do read profiles (and often websites/blogs) before I follow anyone back. If your profile links back to the page I’m reading, provides no substantial information, or is locked from public view, I won’t follow you.

mari’s so behind it’s … shameful, really

I know. I know. I said months ago (and then months before that) I was going to start blogging more regularly. We all see how well that turned out. Here’s the thing. There’s just not been that much going on, not anything that would make a blog post, anyway. I use Twitter now for the “this is what I’m doing right now” stuff – instead of using my blog for those one and two sentence updates I used to make throughout the day the first few years of my blog’s life. Also, I use check-ins at GetGlue for a lot of stuff, too. For example, I just checked-in to “pot pie” because that’s what I’ve got in the oven for our supper. I don’t want to let this blog go, though. It’s been part of my life since 2002, and there’s so much stored here (even if I did accidentally dump all the pictures a couple of years ago – whoops!). Yeah, I could archive it all on my hard drive, but that just doesn’t sound appealing.

So, here I sit. Trying to figure out where to start on catching up since … Christmas? New Year’s? My birthday? The funny part about all of this? Starting sometime in October, I created a tab in OneNote labeled “Blog Topics”. I have subtopics: brainstorming, love, memories, mental health, pagan, ‘women in fiction’, and writing. We won’t discuss the number of topics and ideas listed within each. I mean, I probably have enough material in there to work from for at least three months of intermittent blogging – like every third or fourth day kind of intermittent – especially with the memories stuffs. I probably should be shot for having all of these things and just sitting here and not doing one damned thing with them.

It’s a writing problem.

It’s a writer’s problem.

It’s so simple to create all these lists and jot down thoughts and ideas – and then just leave them and never once think about coming back to flesh them out. Especially with me. The whole ADHD (lately I’ve been joking and calling it ADDH – because CDO insists I keep everything orderly) thing makes me scattered. I have to keep telling myself over and over, “Focus on one thing at a time! One thing at a time! Easy now! Easy!” And that’s harder than it sounds. See, if something isn’t right in my face where I can’t see it or glance at it at least on occasion, I forget about it until I run into it again, be that a day or two or a decade or two later. This is the curse of having distractibility ADHD. (just look at this paragraph!)

Thing is, I don’t work at a desk; I work at our kitchen table. I’d have a garbage dump of a mess if I left everything out where I could see it all of the time – then I’d get cranky, irritable, and whiny because everything was a mess! What I end up with, then, is a pile of different notebooks containing this, that, and something else, pencils or ink pens clipped to each, and my cellphone stacked on top of that. I keep Outlook open all day because I need the reminder alarms, but I fail at keeping OneNote open all day – and that’s where my daily task list lives (but I tell myself I keep a duplicate in this one notebook …).

And see, I sat down here this morning with the intent of making one of those what I call “catchup posts”. I even pre-tagged it so I could look at the tags list and, with some hope and forethought, not leave anything out. But no. I’ve sat here doing everything but writing a blog post. I think I’m going to save the other half for tomorrow! If I don’t show back up tomorrow, just jab me and make me do it!

i need a new laptop

Frankly, this one has had it. So I created a chip-in. Any help most appreciated!!

[[[edited to add: monday, april 16, 2012: my laptop, my beloved geoffery, gave up his ghost this morning and is no longer functional. i edited my pay-pal settings so that the chip-in button will actually work now (there apparently was an issue before that i didn’t know existed). the button says i’m raising $500, but $300 would get me a functional laptop that does what i need it to do. any amount anyone can donate is, of course, vastly appreciated!. thank you in advance.]]]

new year, new you

So I read about this via MG Ellington and thought I’d give it a whirl:

The New Year, New You Project is an experiment in Magical Radical Transformation. Please see here for how to participate!”

Here is what you’ll do. You’ll write prompts. You’ll explore. You’ll fall down. Sometimes you’ll lay there awhile, finding things under rocks that you never wanted to know. They’ll pull you back, using yarn, glue, cajoling and stern words. You’ll keep sewing yourself into who you’ll want to be and you’ll tell them, sometimes too much, because that’s your way and what’s needed. You’ll find how far you can really fly when you’ve made wings to carry you and be breathless from your accomplishments. Besides your words, you’ll give something made from your hands.

I don’t do ‘resolutions’ as a rule – I think they’re just a system for setting yourself up to fail. But this looks like a good project, and there’s no better time like the present.

I like this part:

You can’t start putting all this awesome new crap into your life and body until you get rid of the old crap. Old crap here is defined as many things such as relationships that are no longer working, old crutches, clutter of the mind and of the house.


Just because someone hands you a big rock doesn’t mean you have to carry it. We all have baggage to deal with (such as forgiveness issues and toxicity). What’s weighing you down? Light a candle to your deity(ies) of choice and really do some journaling about it. Explore the issue(s) with a very close friend. Do your best to let go of it, even if you do need to sometimes need to occasionally revisit it.

therapy on monday

Days like today, I really dislike Lextran. The thing is, I have to take two buses to get to CKBH for my therapy sessions. That’s usually no big deal. But the second bus runs only every hour (then every 70 minutes, 80 minutes; it gets kinda ridiculous). So to get to my 1pm appointment today, I had to be on the bus at 11:30am so I could be dropped off at Palomar at 12:30pm.Too, we’ve been under flood advisories and watches since yesterday. It’s been miserable wet out there. I was happy walking to the bus, though. Even though the creeks are flooded, I counted at least twenty ducks down there, some in the water braving the rapids. (Which brings to mind something I was told when I was about thirteen: Beware a duck in a raincoat. Duly noted!)

I got to Palomar in one piece and walked over to the clinic. I was early, for a change, so I got to dawdle in the rain and then take my time signing in and stuff. My blood pressure is still up, but that’s no surprise; the good news is that I’ve not gained any weight since the end of October (doing off that Elavil has been a good thing!). I sat down in my therapist’s office, and she said, “So. You’re here. How’s it going?” I burst out laughing and said, “You got an hour?” We busted out laughing. I told Preston earlier I’m sure the rest of the clinic thought she and I were having a weird party or something for as much as we laughed and carried on while I was back there. We laughed and cackled and carried on – you’d have thought we’d known each other our entire lives. That’s why I like seeing her, for as much as the trip and the clinic itself aggravate the piss out of me; we get on like a house on fire. It’s fantastic.

Then she asked, “How’s the boy?” And I dug all three of my notebooks out of my bag. She said, “Really?” lol I said, “They’re all for different things.” I opened the one I was taking notes in when Thomas was in the hospital this last time, and we talked about that. Then I filled her in on Jane’s behavior, and she asked, “Does Jane always act like this?” And I burst out laughing again, and we talked some more. I thought the poor woman was going to need therapy herself by the time I got finished with all that. Then we talked about NaNoWriMo – and ftr, I’ve not written anything since Saturday. I have brain burn out and have been busy with other things. I’m afraid my word count for this month is going to be 26k, which really, given the trouble I’ve had writing the last two years, isn’t shabby at all, so there’s that.

I told her that it finally struck me yesterday about Thomas’ fistula surgery in the morning. I’ve been spastic about it since I woke up yesterday. OMG, they’re slicing open my child’s artery and slicing open a vein and connecting it to the artery!” :cue spastic flailing and screaming: She said, “But you’re handling every thing really well.” I had to agree. She said she’d have been more worried had I not been spastic.

Then she said, “Well, you seem like you’re doing well. That’s a good thing!” I said, “Yeah, I’m happy.” We talked about my writing some more.

I told her how I’d been riding my bicycle and taking walks, and we talked about the distances I’d been covering. I told her I’d covered some real distance when Thomas was in the hospital both times. I showed her the picture of the very long hallway that runs along Nicholasville Road in the new hospital and told her I’d measured it with GoogleMaps and that it’s somewhere around 330 feet long. We agreed that’s one impressive hallway! But then we discussed how the weather would impact my getting out and about, I joked, “I could just bus to the hospital.” She said, “No doubt!” I told her about the renovations they’re doing on the clubhouse and the fitness center. She said, “Remind me again where you live?” And I said, “Cheddar’s.” We lost it. Totally. Of course I meant across the street from Cheddar’s. But she has ADHD, too, and knows what an ADHD brain does. The new clubhouse and fitness center are supposed to open Wednesday, if they ever get the keycard reader working right. What’s nice about this is that there are going to be televisions all over the fitness center. I’ll have something to keep my brain occupied, even if it’s just The Weather Channel; I won’t have the excuse to tell Preston, “I don’t like going because I get bored,” any more!

She said she’s very proud of how I’ve handled Jane and Thomas’ being in the hospital and all the stress; she said I’ve developed excellent coping skills over the last two years. I said, “I can’t imagine handling it without medication, and I made it through without the Elavil and had very few migraines. I had some severe headaches, but I killed those with Pepsi and Tylenol.” She said, “But Mari, you’re stable.” I burst out laughing again. I said, “Can you write that down for me? I need that written down so I can take it home and show it to Preston. Then I’m going to hang it on my wall and carry a copy in my bag to show to people.” We died laughing.

After this, we went down my medications list, and I told her I have an appointment to see an internist about my blood pressure at Kentucky Clinic on December 19. She agrees this is a very good plan. She wrote out my prescriptions and told me not to come back until the end of January unless I need her. I thanked her profusely. I always do. I don’t know where or what I’d be without her. I really don’t.

So, I got all signed out and made my appointment for the end of January, told everyone Merry Christmas, and went back outside into the rain. Coming up to the top of the hill on Wellington, I saw the 1:30pm bus go through the light and head toward Man O’War. Now, I can’t run for shit; never have been able to – not enough air, short legs, not enough strength, not enough eyesight. Anyway. I told myself if I walked really fast, I could make it to Arby’s and catch that bus, in my rush forgetting that the bus has a ten minute break there. Regardless I did make it and didn’t have to wait for the next one to trundle around at 2:50pm. At 3pm, I’d already transferred buses and gone to Wal-Mart and had my in at the pharmacy to be filled. I was back out at the bus stop for the next bus I needed at 3:30pm, and I got home a long time before I thought I was going to when I set out this morning. This morning, I was thinking somewhere between 5pm and 6pm. What a relief to get home earlier than expected! And that worked out, too. Preston left work early and was home about the time I got supper ready. We don’t get to eat together on days he works, so this was most excellent!

Passed a tree lot on the way down Harrodsburg on the way home and burst out laughing because I thought of Tayler. When the boys were four and two and a half, I drove to Liberty to pick them up for Christmas, and we stopped at the Danville Wal-Mart to pick up some stuff and do a small bit of extra Christmas shopping. Like I always had, I dumped them into a shopping cart out in the parking lot and pushed them up toward the store. I wanted the general merchandise side, so instead of going in through grocery, we just trundled down the sidewalk. About halfway down, Tayler asked a question, and I said, “What?” Tayler asked, “Are those great big alligators going to eat us, Mommy?” I said, “What alligators, Tayler? We’re at Wal-Mart.” He pointed toward the wall. There were a scad of live Christmas trees bundled up and propped against the wall. I said, “Tayler! Those are Christmas trees!” He said, “Oh.” A few beats later, he said, “So those great big alligators aren’t going to eat us?” lmao

Also, Miss Kitty has taken to stuffing toys beneath the Christmas tree skirt. It’s cracking me up. Well, at least she doesn’t lunge at the tree and jack-rabbit it like Grey Lady did, although Kitty did try to climb the last big tree I had that one time …

Tuesday November 29: eta: Kathy called last night while I was in the process of writing this post, and then I got so involved in the post, I forgot to add what she told me. Anyway. Jane had apparently called her yesterday to rip her another new asshole. She wanted to know why the transplant clinic calls Kathy first before they call anybody else about anything. Kathy said she carefully explained that that’s how Thomas asked for it to be set up on the call sheet. Kathy, him, me. And then after they had called Thomas once first by mistake and he never got back in touch with them, and they called Kathy, we double-checked to make sure that they mark to call Kathy first in the future. Jane asked why they couldn’t just call Thomas. Kathy said, “Because Thomas will admit to anybody that he doesn’t understand half what he’s being told, especially over the telephone, and he never remembers to write that stuff down or to record his appointments.” Well, you know that didn’t sit well with Jane. Kathy said, “Well, if you want them to call you first, then you need to have the clinic change it at Thomas’ next appointment Thursday morning. You have to tell them to change it or they won’t know they’re supposed to call a different number.” I was afraid to ask whether Jane ripped Kathy a new asshole over Kathy and Ralph leaving for Florida this morning instead of coming up here to be with Thomas during surgery.

i saw my therapist on tuesday

This week has gone by so fast. I told myself, “I’ll write this post as soon as I get home from the clinic.” But I was so tired by the time I got home, I didn’t care about the clinic, my blog, or much anything else. Miss Kitty was happy to take a nap with me. And then I kept thinking, “I’ll write it tomorrow.” And now tomorrow is today, which is Saturday. Where did this week go? Oh yeah. I’ve been writing, organizing, and have been reading Meg Cabot’s 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU series straight through (am on book four today; she’s the one who wrote all those Princess Diary books).

I remember thinking as I walked from the bus stop at Arby’s over to the next street to the clinic that I’d been going to that clinic for over a year now, and I’ve been seeing my particular therapist for right at a year. And soon, I’ll be slogging through the snow again to see her. This year really went quick!

One thing I like about my therapist is that when you go into her office, she has your file scattered all across her desk and a nice list of notes. She always adds to that list, every appointment.

The first thing we talked about, of course, was Thomas and how all that had gone. The last time I had seen her, he’d still been in UK Hospital. I told her how all that had turned out, and she was rightly appalled. Then we talked about finding a support group for parents/relatives of transplant recipients. She really couldn’t find anything on Google, so I said I will ask one of the social workers when Thomas goes back to transplant clinic on Monday. And I made myself a note in the notebook I carry in my bag so I don’t forget. Because I’m like that. I’d literally leave my head behind if it weren’t so firmly attached to my neck.

But I had told her everything I’d been feeling, all the stages and how they’d come along and how I’d handled them. She said she was proud of me – I’d done everything right all by myself! I told her I’d tried to get an emergency appointment with her the week after the horrific news had been delivered but that she’d been booked so solid I couldn’t have gotten edged in had it been a true emergency. She said, “My schedule is ridiculous.” No kidding. But she’s so good at what she does! I threaten now and then to switch over to UK Psychiatry because I don’t really care for her clinic, but at the same time, I don’t want to lose her. She’s fantastic.

So then we discussed my medications and how I’m doing on all of those, and she wrote me a handful of new prescriptions. I’m doing well with the Ritalin. Now and then it still makes me a bit jittery, but I really feel like that depends on how I’ve slept the night before. Sometimes I sleep like a log and others I toss and turn – despite everything I take to knock me out.

And we discussed my personal life and my love life and my writing life and how sales of the anthology are going and NaNoWriMo, etc, etc, etc. We talked about all of the Young Adult literature I’ve collected over the Summer and that I’ve read since then and about my latest project – which I must say is coming along nicely, if I do have to say so myself! And I’ll be going back to see her again on the Monday following Thanksgiving. I’ll have my list of stuff to discuss, and she’ll have hers, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle just like we always do.