How to Help

Holy shit.  This day has been insane.  As you may know, my mother's house was completely taken by a tornado May 24, 2011.  It was the single most stressful and heartbreaking experience of my life thus far.  I figured I'd make a nice guide for people who (like most of us) are sitting staring at endless hours of TV and internet footage of devastation wondering how in the hell they can help.

Donations:  people always think of the same things to donate, and these are helpful things, but then when everyone gives the same stuff, you end up like my mother with a lifetime supply of deodorant, soap, and canned food, but none of the other important or not-so-important things that would also mean the world to a person that just lost everything.  

So, my advice on those things that are less donated but much appreciated:

Bins.  Big ole nice plastic bins.  If your house is still kind of there (as most of mom's was, in the other ditch), you will be digging through the rubble trying to salvage important things.  You'll need a nice place to put those things until you have a house again.  If your house is totally wiped off the map with no trace, you will still need places to keep the donations you receive.

Anything for pets.  When you are so devastated, it can be a great comfort to know that your fur babies are as comfortable as you can make them.  Pet food is needed, and things like bowls, leashes, and beds are great.  It made mom really happy to get a nice cat bed from one of the donation sites.

Medicine.  Everyone seemed to give first aid type things like neosporin, gauze, aspirin.  But people still need things like allergy pills, midol, migraine meds, pepto, etc.

Uneccessary shit to make you feel better.  Things like makeup, nail polish, hair dryers (mom was happy to get this), curling irons.  The first bit after you lose everything you are just in shock, but once you get to the point of trying to put things back together it can feel amazing to "pretty up" a bit, even though it seemed to silly and unnecessary at first.

Home-y stuff.  Your entire house is gone.  At first it seems like homelessness is all you'll know for a while, but after a bit you want to start thinking of rebuilding your life.  Sheet sets, silverware sets, trash cans, things like this help you to start to see that you will recover, eventually.

If you know someone or have anywhere to give something directly to those affected, the greatest thing EVER is GIFTCARDS.  When you've lost everything it feels good to get things from shelters and donation sites but it feels even better to go pick out new things yourself.

All I can say is that it was amazing to see how people can come together to help.  And also, occasionally amazing to see how people DIDN'T come together.  Its a time for learning how incredible humanity in general really is (enough that you can forget the small bits of assholishness you see from some of the people you thought cared about you).

Other than donations, after the rescues are finished and they can clear up the most dangerous debris, people need help sifting through the wreckage, and it can feel so good to have able bodies show up and offer to help in any way.  It is physically and emotionally exhausting to go through the broken pieces of your belongings.  But one thing here:  follow the rules set up by the homeowners.  Don't assume something is trash unless they ok it.  Let them tell you what to do and not to do.  

Now one more thing.  People will come out in DROVES at first.  The next couple of days will be an outpouring.  But this takes time.  And I would say to you, unless you know someone to go help immediately, wait to go help.  The May 24th tornado was on a Tuesday.  Wednesday we had a shitload of help.  Thursday we had a fair amount.  Saturday and Sunday, being the weekend, we had a lot of help.  But Friday?  Well, by that point, people couldn't afford to take off work anymore.  And the stress at that point on my mother and I, after 3 pretty much sleepless night and 3 very very stressful days in the hot sun sifting through dead animals and ruined memories was almost unbearable.  I remember my sister-in-law taking mom into town to get her away for a little bit, and my brother and I were alone on the pile of what once was a part of my home, and I just broke down.  I couldn't take anymore and it was so lonely.  So, this bout today was on a Monday.  I hope that people have not forgotten how much help these people will need by Thursday or Friday.  I hope they don't have such a horribly lonesome, hopeless moment like that.

Efoa?

Let's just say a few things about life right now.

Last week in Seattle for my ARVO conference was amazing.  The city is beautiful, I had a great time with my science-y friends, and my talk went great.  I've never felt so confident in front of a group of scientists.  I knew my research, I knew my talk, and the propanalol didn't hurt anything..... (shhhh....better living through chemistry).  I ate seafood every day and loved it, found out that there's a huge difference between the taste of different oysters (this restaurant had like 50 different ones to choose from, it was insane), found out how amazing fresh mussels are, and that I don't really prefer clams.  Ok, there's a lot more, but I'll put up a photo-rific post later on all of it.  Oh, and my phone was lost and/or stolen.  Luckily I had uploaded most of my pictures to my computer, but I still lost two amazing days' worth.  Wah waaaaaah.

Then, I get back.  And study, study, study.  For naught.  I did NOT pass this time on my oral exam.  It was a disaster and I don't even want to think about it.  Dr. Ding forced me (for good reason, I know) to think it over and write down the questions I didn't answer well, but after I did that I just wanted to forget for a while.  And so, I will come back to that list in a week.  Or two.  Or three.  There were four of us that took it and 2 passed.  Now on to my rewrite of my proposal, which I guess better be awesome possum after that fiasco.  I believe I will have to retake the oral in August, which means several more months of stress and studying.  Yay.

I'm going to ask Dr. Ding today for time off starting the end of next week, and Derrick and I are going to visit his sister in Ohio.  I want to go see my family, but since he has no one but Vasty in this entire countrycontinent, I decided my family can come later in the summer.  Hopefully I can use that time to destress, unwind, and forget about this b.s. for a little bit.  I haven't had a true, real vacation since school started.  I only took 3 days for my damn honeymoon for godsakes, and 12 hours of those three days were spent driving.  So if she doesn't approve after I ask her, I'm just going to have to TELL her I'm going.  Should be fun, but she's tiger-mom-dissappointed in me already for my exam so meh.

Other than that, I'm having ridiculous mood swings between sadness/anger/joy over my exam, my hatred of being in the lab right now, and my rather cute boyfriend.  Also, at my counselor's urging, last night began my two weeks of NO TV.  I waste too much time on it, and I need to do other things.  Yesterday evening was spent listening to music, playing in our new garden (pics to come), chatting, and eating the delicious red-red that I proudly made from scratch with no help from any Africans.  It was much better than previous nights of endless staring at a box.  I will have to break this two week stint for one thing though...the season finale of Bates Motel next Monday. 

Ok, off to actually work, and then the dreaded task of asking for vacation after spending a week in Seattle and then failing my test.  Yay.

Fuck you.

Its been an awful week.  For the country, and for me.  Boston bombing, tornadoes, explosions, bullshit.  I've been struggling to maintain a positive outlook on school and work, then as soon as I get there I deal with shit from my boss and shit from my exam committee.  I spent the entire day today either shaking from anger or crying from stress.

So, in this mood, I almost got into several full blown Facebook fights.  Stupid.  But JESUS CHRIST (heh) Christianity sometimes really seems to be what is wrong with this fucking country.  I'm going to go on an angry rant here, and probably make some generalizations I wouldn't normally make just because I'm so super peeved.

Let's start with gay marriage.  Who the fuck are you to say anything about it?  Who the fuck are you to care?  It has NOTHING, and I repeat, NOOOOOTTTTHHHIIIINNGG to do with you unless you really want it to.  Don't like gays?  Don't hang out with them.  Don't watch LOGO.  Don't get married to someone of your sex.  Boom.  Done.  There is absolutely no reason why it shouldn't be legal.  Oh sorry, I meant no good reason.  There are actually 2 reasons.  1. Its against your religion.  So fucking what?  Its also against your religion to lie, to touch a woman on her period, to eat shellfish, or to be greedy.  We gonna outlaw that shit?  NO.  2. Its icky.  Well, there are a shitload of people that I think are icky and shouldn't be having sex.  But I'm not going to tell them not to, because I DON'T HAVE TO WATCH OR BE INVOLVED IN ANY WAY.  So fuck you.

What's next?  How about abstinence only education?  Or no sex ed at all, because no teenager should be learning that shit!  Look it up people, that shit doesn't work.  Teens have sex.  Sure, not all of them.  But a lot of them will.  And if they don't know anything about it, they're going to get pregnant or get STDs.  Look at the statistics of teen pregnancy rates in states with comprehensive sex ed compared with abstinence only, then tell me what you think.  Fuck you.

Abortion.  If you think a sperm meeting with an egg makes a human life right off the bat?  I've got nothing to say to you, except get some fucking education.  Also, if you think sucking a ball of cells out of a woman's vagina is worse than a person having a kid they can't or don't want to take care of, I got nothing to say to you either.  It seems to be true with many I talk to that they only care about a baby until its actually born, then they don't give a shit what happens to it.  So, fuck you.

I got a lot more fuck you in me, but I think I'll let it rest for now and get my blood pressure down by taking a shower with a hot African guy then studying chromatin immunoprecipitation while listening to reggae.

On Breasts

I think about boobs a lot.  Mainly because a. they're awesome and b. mine are constantly in the way or bothering me in some way.  I've never in my life owned a bra that was comfortable for more than 3 hours.  I've gained a lot of weight since starting grad school and it has made these things ginormous, which, when added to the giant backpack I carry with me all the time now that every spare minute should be study time--equals back pain.  I can't buy cute bras.  In fact, I can't buy bras from anywhere except Lane Bryant and Frederick's of Hollywood.  Victoria's Secret gave up on me a couple cup sizes ago.  But still, I love these things, and I want to take care of them.  The main issue is that I've come to a point that, when I've been wearing them too many hours of the day for too many days in a row, I get this searing, awful cramp right between my breasts, right over the sternum, that is so bad it literally takes my breath away.  I am not a pussy when it comes to pain, having dealt with periods from hell for decades, but this is unbearable.  I want to cry but I can't even do that, I just sit there hitting myself in the sternum, struggling to breathe.  The first time (in undergrad) I thought I was having a heart attack until I calmed down enough to realize that it was just muscle pain.  It doesn't happen often, but that's really only because generally I put on my bra last thing in the morning and take it off as soon as I get home.

So, I saw a headline about bras not being so good for you after all.  Of course, science in the news is always condensed and misread, and people take good work and turn it into "bananas definitely cause cancer!!!!!!!". "Eat raspberries and you'll NEVER DIE!"  So, I went and read some studies.

The claim that bras are a risk factor for cancer is not really established.  The claim is that, by not allowing breast to move naturally, the lymphatic flow is disturbed, which could lead to an increased risk.  This isn't really shown, as surgeries that completely block the lymphatic flow do not lead to increased cancer rates.  So, this is not a good enough reason to go bra free.

However, I have been reading about breast ligaments.  It has been shown in several studies that women who went bra free, even during physical activity, showed a great increase in breast perkiness and a decrease in breast and back pain.  The distance from nipple to shoulder was decreased in a large majority of the women, regardless of breast size.  Their shoulder muscles were more developed.

Ligaments, when not in use, will atrophy, this is known.  What people don't think about is that there are ligaments in the breast, and stretching of these is a major contributor to saggy boobies.   Well, if you're constantly hiking those babies up in a contraption, these ligaments are not in use!  Of all the studies I looked at, the recommendation was to limit your bra use as much as possible, even during sports.  The only thing was that if  you have rather large breasts (ahem, me), and you will be doing a rigorous activity that will cause a lot of major bouncing, you should wear a sports bra to limit the throwing around of tits, as this could lead to stretching the ligaments (as you would know if you ever, ever saw a girl like me jump up and down without any support.  But there's no need for a completely constricting sports bra for even this kind of activity, just enough to keep the full weight of those girls from slamming down.

So, in light of this, I've begun an experiment.  I went bra free yesterday.  I will be using nothing but those flimsy little camisoles that barely contain me and an occasional sports bra if I'm gonna be running and jumping (won't be too often until I get my exams done).  And I'll be taking pictures to see if it does indeed change my perk factor.  I'll be taking notes on my back pain and breast tenderness.  I plan on going until my conference at ARVO starting May 4th(gotta look professional, gotta hike em up), and see how I feel up until that point as to whether I want to continue or not.

One full day into the experiment, I will say that I LOVE not wearing a bra.  God it feels good.  I'm working on improving my posture, as I have gotten to the point where hunching over was the best way to improve the pain from my bra straps.  But I can already tell that I'm improving subconsciously.  So, we'll see how it goes.  Maybe in a week I'll say fuck it and realize it ain't worth it.  Maybe I'll never buy another torture device again.  All I know is I love these girls and I gotta do right by them.

I have had an abortion.

More people need to know this.  More people need to speak up and say it.  More people need to realize that one in three American women have had one.  More people need to realize that 70% of abortions in America are performed on Christians.

Let me tell you about my abortion.  Let me tell you about what was wrong, and what needs to change.

I was 16 and stupid.  My mother wouldn't talk to me after she found out.  She told me I had no choice, abortion or nothing.  I resented this for years, this lack of choice.  Its funny, when so many people have to resent the opposite choice.  I would have come to this decision on my own, but being told that it was not my decision to make, about my own body, was infuriating--especially at an age where you want freedom from your parents.

My boyfriend was supportive.  He got his very first job just so he could pay for half of it.  Before we told our parents I had extensively researched everything.  I found that abortions in Oklahoma would end up costing about $2000, which none of us could afford.  But the Planned Parenthood in California could do it for $300.  So, a plan was made after the parents were told that I would have to wait until summer vacation, and get an abortion while pretending to enjoy family time and lovely weather on the west coast.

Before I went to California, I spent several days with my grandparents.  I had morning sickness the entire time, and could barely keep anything down.  My brother tried to help me, telling me not to order the tub of popcorn and Twizzlers at the movie theater....which I ended up puking up in the middle of the X-Files movie.  Had thrown up strawberry waffles that morning--this day resulted in me hating my favorite fruit for many months.

Once in California, we made excuses for the younger cousins, who went to spend the day at the water park. My mother, grandmother, and aunt accompanied me to the clinic.  It was inside a large building, and you had to check in through the bullet proof glass window that made it feel like a dirty late night convenience store.  Give them your money (all of my savings plus my boyfriend's savings from McDonald's), go through the metal detector and the double bullet-proof glass doors, and sit in the waiting room silently while my other family members tried to talk to my mother.

I had this idea of the baby, we had named "her" Aubrey.  I carried a little ceramic bear with me, imagining that her soul would go into it.  I still have the bear, even though the thought of all of that seems so silly now.

I was called back alone, scared shitless.  I logically know the place was clean and sterile, but in my memory it is dark and dirty.  I peed into a cup for the pregnancy test, put on the hospital gown, and waited.  Then they did an ultrasound, which the nurse made sure I could not see.  She put in my IV.  I had never had an IV before and I hated it.  Then, the doctor came in.  I don't remember whether he talked to me or not, I just remember trying not to pay attention.  When the suction started it hurt like hell, but I've always had horribly painful period cramps so it wasn't anything too awful for me.  The worst was seeing the red going down into the tube that led to a biohazard bag.  Thinking that it was a baby and it was going to be nothing but waste.

After it was done I laid in a bed for them to check my bleeding.  I was so nauseous and woozy.  I was alone, even though there was another girl on the bed beside mine.  She was throwing up.  I never did.

The nurse sent me on my way with a bag of condoms, which my mother promptly took from me.  My aunt told her to let me keep them so this didn't happen again, but she didn't.  I went home, where Mom gave me Valium and let me call my boyfriend for just a minute.  Then I slept the rest of the day.

I didn't get to have much fun on the rest of the vacation.  The pills they put me on afterwards made me sensitive to sunlight, and the doctor had told me not to do much strenuous activity.

My blood type is A-, which no one knew at the time.  I should have had an RH factor shot to make sure I won't have miscarriages in the future.  I got one a week later, but I'm still scared this was too late.  I should probably figure that out.

I was supposed to have a follow up appointment to make sure everything was ok, but I never did get one.

In the end, I'm glad I had an abortion.  At this point in my life I would have a 15 year old child.  Can you imagine?  I sure as hell can't.

But I will tell you this.  They could make it easier.  The fucking protesters that force the clinics to become prison-like to keep out the guns and bombs.  How are you pro-life if every time a woman goes to the clinic she has to worry about being murdered?

And the stigma has got to stop.  You know someone who has had an abortion.  In fact, you probably know many people.  But all of us feel so alone, because none of us speak up.  So I'm here to say, I've had an abortion, I'm glad I did, and if I could I would do it over again (well, ideally I would have used protection every time in high school, but hey).

The most important thing here is that we need comprehensive sexual education for all children.  We are built, biologically, to want sex.  If you think just telling your kid "don't do it" will cut it, think again.  I had no, NO sexual education of any kind.  My family never talked about it.  It was never mentioned in school.  I didn't even know the penis inserted INTO the vagina until about a year before I lost my virginity.  Wonder why I didn't fully understand the sperm/egg interaction enough to not get pregnant?  If you do not teach them, you are left with children that believe things like "you get pregnant when you swallow the sperm" or "you can't get pregnant your first time".

I'm not sure how to effectively end this.  Here are the links that led me to write this today:

http://www.vice.com/read/about-my-abortion?utm_source=vicefbus

http://katrinagalore.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-one-ever-changes-their-mind-about.html

http://bitchmagazine.org/article/full-frontal-offense/

They are trying to take away our rights.  They are trying, every day, to tell us what we can do with our own bodies.  The only way to fight this is to speak up.  To demand change.  To show them that we will not be beaten down and treated like second class citizens.

Now, I'm going to go finish work so I can enjoy my sun filled, relaxing birthday weekend in the woods.

Grateful

I know there's still a lot of hurt and anger over my divorce, from many people.  But I would like to say one thing about it, then I will try to move on and let this blog only reflect my present.

Looking back at all the blogs I've kept, I see a startling link between them.  I was constantly complaining that I almost never had anything good to say.  I came to them to write when I was upset, panicked, apathetic,  or miserable.

My ex was pretty much the same.  Every year seemed to get worse than the last.  Shit just seemed to fall all around us, and our perspective was skewed by our unhappiness.  It was never that more bad things happened to us, it was just that we didn't have a foundation underneath us that we could count on when these things came.

Now....bad things come, I let them flow over me.  I may get momentarily upset, may cry a bit or freak out for an hour or two.  But I never go to bed unhappy.  I don't let things get to me for days/weeks/months/years at a time.  I have a foundation of happiness built up underneath it all, and it makes the worst things seem manageable.  I hope that it is true for my ex, too.

So, right now, I'm letting my life be filled with gratitude.  Every day I am constantly amazed by how good life is, even with the bad shit thrown in.  Bad things only serve to highlight the good.

So, today, I am grateful for my boss finally backing off a bit and realizing I may have too much work to be able to study effectively.  I'm thankful for the Charles River rep who promised to mail me the nude mice posters I've been wanting for years now (nudist colonies!!!!! totally getting framed for the house, Derrick better like it).  I'm thankful for my birthday weekend and a couple days of relaxation (although my study materials will be joining us, I can't afford even one full day off right now).  I'm thankful for my Mom, who, as Derrick said "is way too good to us."  I'm thankful for all of my classmates--we seem to be the only year that sticks together and supports each other as much as we do.  I'm thankful for our new house, and all the things that make it a place I love to be.  I'm thankful for Derrick, who helps me to be more cognizant of all of the good things, and to slow down and notice the beauty in everything.  And today, most of all I'm thankful for spring.  If it weren't for my damn exams I would be spending every single night riding bikes with D and every single weekend hiking.  C'mon May!

Life

Life is good.  Work/school?  Not good, but not awful.  Still struggling with whether I should be doing this shiz.

Had a presentation today.  We have a yearly graduate/postdoc symposium, and I really, really did not want to do it this year.  Hardly anyone from our year participated since we are in the middle of general exams, and no one from my year or department did.  But, alas, I do agree with my mentor that I need as much practice as I can get, to get over my ridiculous stage fright.  So, on I went.  Same problems as always, I talk far too fast because I'm so nervous.  But, my postdoc did mention that I did far, far better than last year's symposium, so that's pretty good.  I didn't turn bright red and get all sweaty, I just talked too fast and my voice shook a little.  At some point I'll be a pro! (I guess)  I just hope I can get my shit together for the international meeting next month.  Eek!

I got my proposal turned in.  It wasn't entirely done, but as one of my committee members said, a grant is never done, you just finally give up.  I was angry with myself when I realized I never explained one of my experiments, but we get one rewrite, so I'll just wait for my paper back from my committee covered in red ink.  I was in lab until 3:30am Sunday night finishing it.  Fun times.

We are moved in.  I haven't gotten all of my things from my old apartment, but the apartment Derrick and I were in is done.  Now we're staying in a new house filled with boxes and we have no idea where anything is. So, we've made a deal that every night before we chill on the couch we have to do a minimum of 30 minutes of unpacking.  Which turned into way more than that last night.  I was working on 3 hours of sleep from Sunday night.  Got home yesterday and Derrick and I went for a nice, lovely, long bike ride because the weather was beautiful and we knew it would be shitty for the next few day.  Ended up walking along a dirty creek bed on Portland and then riding over to eat at Gopuram, where we ate waaaaay too much Indian food and drank waaaaay too delicious mango lassis.  So, since we had to make the dreaded bike ride home when we could barely walk, we spent a ridic amount of time wandering through Dollar Tree to let the food settle in.  D was very pleased to find some bamboo windchimes, he had been admiring the neighbors' and my mother's and decided we needed the pretty noise around the house.  Got some air fresheners because our new house still smells like old people from the last tenants.  That should go away once we get the kitchen together, since all Derrick's homes end up smelling like delicious spices. (or as some people put it..."cooked food")  Then we headed home and listened to my old college mix CDs and unpacked until I realized it was midnight.

Finally got the gas turned on, we should have hot water today!  We haven't had a regular shower schedule for over a week now...just getting them in when we went to the old apartment to pack.  It will be nice to change to clean sheets and fall into bed after a hot shower again.  The joys of moving!

I want to keep track of the house things we do.  We are so excited about having a house all to ourselves with a real live backyard, I'd love to keep track of the progress.  Of course, I need a better phone to actually get good pictures with, but hopefully that's coming soon.  Gardening blogs soon, people!

After these last few crazy, tiring weeks...my birthday is coming up this weekend!!!  And to celebrate, we're taking a long weekend trip to Beaver's Bend State Park down in Broken Bow.  Its in the far southeast corner of the state, which I've never really been to.  We have a cabin and I plan to get this African boy on a horse.  I haven't ridden in soooo long and the first time he ever even touched a horse was just a few weeks ago when we pulled over to the side of a random dirt road to pet some.  It should be amazing, the highs are in the 70s all weekend and the lows are in the 50s.  A far cry from this rainy, cold ass day today.  We were going hiking every single weekend for months, but with my proposal and moving we haven't been in quite a bit.  Its exactly what we need right now, we cannot wait.

Ok, that's enough for now.  Other than the stresses of work and school, my life is amazing still.  Now I'm going to head home and get some more unpacking done, and dream of nicer weather so I can get on my bike again.

Not too shabby

I should be a huge mess.  Let's see what I've got on my plate, shall we?  I'm still trucking away at my proposal for my general exam that is due Monday morning.  I should have my slides finished to turn in tomorrow for a presentation next week (haven't even really looked at the data yet).  I need to be gathering data together so that I can start working on my presentation for ARVO, the big international vision meeting I will be presenting at in May in Seattle.  I need to plan said trip to ARVO in May.  I need to try to plan an Ohio trip.  A New Orleans trip.  A Boston/Philly/Rhode Island trip.  And, if time and money permits, although probably not, a California trip.  I need to start studying in earnest for my 3 hour oral exam in which I'm expected to know every tiny thing about my project and every tiny thing about general Cell Biology and Molecular Biology that I've learned since starting graduate school.  I need to finish moving from our apartment to our new house.  I need to finish cleaning the new house.  I need to get the old apartment cleaned by this Sunday. I need to finish separating the belongings from the apartment I shared with the ex and try to stop the fighting over these belongings that has been brewing.  I need to move those separated belongings to the new house.  I need to start on the garden at the new house before its too late.  I need to plan a garage sale to get rid of a bunch of extra shit left at the new house and shit we don't need, plus  to get some funds for all those trips I need to plan.  I need to start on all those experiments in the lab that have been put off while I'm writing.  I need to find time to spend with my dogs, who I really haven't spent time around in months.  I'm helping my friend to feel better while she's dealing with the fact that she's either having a miscarriage, or possibly carrying a baby with any of several kinda scary birth defects and she won't know for weeks whether she needs to make a decision about whether to keep it or not.  I'm sitting at the library cramping and bleeding without any "lady" supplies so I'm using toilet paper until I can get enough done on this proposal to feel better about going back home and finally eating a real meal today.  Suddenly one of my sisters and one of my cousins aren't talking to me anymore (no real loss there but it is funny).

All I want to do is travel and make the new house awesome and spend time with the boyfriend, but I'll have to wait until at lead mid-May before I have any real time to spend on any of that. But you know what?  I'm really not freaking out.  Sure, I'm feeling some stress, but not the kind I had the entire first year of graduate school.  The kind that made me sick and miserable.  Its just the regular "I'm busy" kind.  Its pretty nice actually, although I'm hoping that I'm at a good mid-point and not just in a major procrastination lull.

Anyway, it helps to have someone so calm living with me.  I know that when I have no time, he'll be there to help with whatever I need.  He can cook me delicious food while I study.  He can help me finish moving and planting and cleaning.  He's there to calm me when I start to get to a point of freakedoutness.  Its a good thing.

Now, wish me luck.  I have FINALLY figured out how to effectively use Endnote for my citations and it is a lifesaver.  I'm in love with it, and now I must go use it to fill in all those pesky places where it says (ref???) at the end of the sentence.  I must go finish my proposal so that I can focus on all those other things on my to do list!

Taking Sides

I wondered what could cause people such anger in divorce that they would be willing to spend thousands of dollars in lawyer's fees fighting over belongings that would cost a fraction of that price to replace.  I wondered why someone would spend bitter years of their life when they could just come to a shitty compromise and get it over with.  I still wonder, but I can alllllmost see why.

Once you begin the painful process of separating many years of belongings that the two of you have accrued over the years, tempers are bound to flair.  We are both trying to be civil, but at times this seems impossible and anger seems the only way.  And so, things are said.  Things that are true, actually, but still are said in such a way as to maximize damage to the other person.

All I can say to anyone who may be a sympathetic ear to either side in a breakup--remember this--generally, both sides are the victim and both sides are the bad guy.  Relationships are complicated and messy and when you are hearing one side you always need to remember that it is just that--one side.  So, I've done shitty things and I'm wrong.  But, he's done shitty things and he is wrong.  We are both right and we are both wrong.  I find the most unfortunate aspect of this divorce for me is that in the beginning, I just wanted to stay quiet, take the blame, and be left alone.  Which of course led to only his side being told, and almost every single one of my closest loved ones taking his side and trying (consciously or not) to shame me.  But, I knew he was in pain, and I took it.  I allowed that.  But it would be a little nice now for people to realize that his side is not the entire story.  I still refuse to stoop to airing our dirty laundry.  It is no one's business.  I just want you to know that there are things no one knows, and there are reasons I did the things I did.  These reasons are not excuses, and do not mean that I am free from blame, but Jesus fucking Christ, people.....

I couldn't fall asleep last night I was so angry, and thus was late to work from sleeping in.  And, in my tiredness, I decided to respond to an angry email in kind.  Oh, it was a long rant going over years of heartache and frustration.  All caused by anger over our record collection.  But of course its never that simple in a divorce, is it?

Shit.

Yesterday I found out my nephew went to jail.  Possibly for a while.  And that the DA is pressing for his parents to press charges so that he can stay there longer.  And that the plan right now is for him to not come home again, because everyone in the home is afraid of him.  He's 17.

I'm angry.  Angry at his parents, angry at the school, angry at the counselors and police officers and probation officers and therapists and everyone in his life who has failed him up to this point.  Angry at the system, and how it is not able to handle difficult children.  Unable to see mental issues early in a child's life and help them when there is still room to help them.

This is a sweet kid.  And yes, it has been thrown around that he is only sweet when he needs to be and can be very manipulative.  It has been hypothesized that he may be a sociopath, without real empathy or normal emotions.  He's super smart, and knows that he is smarter than anyone else he lives with.  Smarter than any of his parents or step-parents.  But this is a kid that, from a young age, was made to feel unwanted.  He was passed around between 2 sets of parents that could not handle him and had no idea how to help him.  He had counselors and therapists that showed poor judgement.  He had adults that for most of his life talked about him while he was in the room, as if he couldn't hear what they were saying about him.

It just makes me so sad that in the end, everyone is giving up on him.  In the end, no one did the right things at the right time.  I'm not pointing fingers at anyone in particular.  This problem was additive.  I think that his parents feel that I'm putting the blame solely on them, but this isn't true.  For years they followed the advice of a shitty therapist, and they weren't educated enough to see that.  They have other children they were worried about as well.  They will never make parents of the year, but I do see that they tried.  It just sucks that in the end, this kid will probably end up in prison for much of his life.

What we need in this country is to fight for better mental health programs.  There is a horrible lack, and people that could be helped are not getting what they need.  Children are being treated by throwing a mix of pills at them, and hoping something will stick.  Good therapists, good facilities, are cost prohibitive for most families.  Sometimes they just don't exist.  You hope for the best when you sign up for the programs you can get/afford, but often these are awful or the employees just don't have the time to spend with these people.  You want to fight school shootings?  You want to decrease homelessness?  Start from the source, and get these people help before tragedy strikes them or they inflict harm on others.

Hippy Shit

I still have a lot of holdovers from my full-blown vegetarian, donating to PETA, crying over how no one recycles, spending all my money on Burt's Bees phase in undergrad.  I believe in the phrase "if its yellow let it mellow."  I feel awful when I have to throw away recyclables, and I've implemented a recycling program in our lab.  I drink green smoothies for breakfast.  I cut up old shitty socks to use as rags instead of throwing them away.  Etc, etc, etc. 

There's a few things though, that I would like to explain the reasons behind.  I've probably already explained them several times in my life, but bear with me here, since they're important to me, dammit!  I've lost a lot of the pure passion I had in my 20s, but I still feel it in relation to certain things (abortion and decriminalization of drugs being two I won't be discussing today).

Let's start with makeup and shaving, shall we?  I first decided to throw away all my makeup and to stop my daily shaving when I read the book Reviving Ophelia--Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls.  Now, I haven't read this book since....oh, 2002 I believe, so I can't tell you much of what I learned from it.  If I ever have a daughter, I will definitely revisit it.  But what I do know is that it made me look over my own issues with low self esteem, and I decided to take action.  See, for me, makeup was a mask that I put on when I felt that I wasn't good enough.  It wasn't to accentuate my good feautures, it wasn't just to cover blemishes, it was to cover my real face because I felt it wasn't good enough.  And shaving was always a source of anxiety for me.  For one thing, I'm just awful at it.  I don't have the patience.  This makes me laugh now, but then, seeing hairs on my legs I had missed or knowing how fast my armpit hair grew and that I'd have a damn five o'clock shadow even when I shaved them in the morning before school made me feel like less of a girl, less of a woman.  I put on makeup when I felt bad, and it did nothing to up my confidence.  I shaved and felt like it was never good enough.  So, after realizing these things, I vowed not to do them unless it was for myself, only myself, and only if it had nothing to do with low self esteem.  I vowed to learn to love myself, love my face, love my hairy legs, love my hairy pits.  And, over the years, I have definitely succeeded in these things.  I'm not saying my self esteem is perfect, but I look in the mirror, and even though I still have acne at 30 (WHAT THE FUCK!? they promised it would be gone when I hit 20!) I see that my face is pretty, and I like it.  I see my natural body hair and I see that is is not something that makes me less female, less woman.  Its just me.  (now....I do get rid of my facial hair...for those Sikh women who can see their beauty past their mustaches and beards, bless you....I don't think a beard would be attractive on me, and since I was born with dark hair I would have a nice little shitstache and gross patchy beard if I didn't take measures against them.) 

I do wear makeup now occasionally, and I do sometimes shave (when I get to my most frequent periods, its still at most once a month for my legs and once a year for the armpits).  But I'm blessed to have found men in my life that see my beauty and are thankful that it isn't covered with creams and powders.  They like to kiss my face and not taste foundation or lipstick.  Derrick made my heart sing when he first said "So you don't wear makeup?  I like that."  And when I asked him whether he would rather me shave more, he just told me that I should do what I feel like doing.  Really, the only times I've found myself doing these things with the wrong intentions is when I'm having a girl's night.  I find that girls are much more openly judgemental about these things.  But, that's why I focus on surrounding myself with women who are awesome.  :-P

The point of this is not to say that everyone should stop wearing makeup and embrace their true hirsute selves.  What I truly want is for none of it to be a big deal.  For no one to feel that they HAVE to shave their legs every day when summer hits.  For no one to have to feel that the first thing they need to do in the morning is "put on their face".  For everyone to do what they want to do when they want to do it and feel no pressure for fitting in with a certain standard of beauty.  If you absolutely love putting on makeup and spending all your money and time on that shit, go for it girl!  It can be fun!  But if you wake up one morning and really don't feel like taking the time, go in to work bare faced and embrace it!  If you are showering and realize your razor sucks, just leave those legs as is and rock it.  Fuck society's expectations.  Flaunt your beauty in the way that makes you feel most amazing.  Don't hide behind anything.  If you're at a Mardi Gras parade yelling for beads and the guy sees your pit hair and shakes his head at you (true story), flip him off, laugh, and go for the next fucking float.  You got enough beads anyway.

I just want women to realize that they are all beautiful in their own way and that they don't have to spend all their time and money on creams, powders, surgery, tattoos, laser hair removal, tweezing, plucking, worrying, standing in front of the mirror scrutinizing, etc, etc, etc.  Do what you want, when you want, and love yourself.  

Note--I make jokes that my mother must have done something very wrong or very right in raising us, since her only daughter has hairy armpits, cannot for the life of her put on eyeliner, and has no idea how to style hair, while her only son shaves his entire body, and can actually walk in high heels.

Woah.  Just found out the singer from The Weeknd has the same hair as Derrick, just shorter (and therefore, less crazy....and less awesome?).

Ok, I've rambled enough.  I've spent far too many hours (on a Saturday) doing immunofluorescence staining and reading, reading, reading in preparation for my written proposal.  So the brain is a bit fuzzy at this point.

Bipolar

I'm switching back and forth a lot today.  Let's examine.

I am officially divorced, as of yesterday.  This is causing much of my mood swings.  I'm feeling nostalgic, relieved, depressed, happy, content, wistful, angry, loved, despised, etc etc.  I'm thinking of what I'm missing while marveling over what I have gained.  I'm stupidly stalking Facebook profiles while reading over sweet texts from the present.  I'm wearing my wedding ring and being sad that this lovely piece of jewelry a good friend made just for me will not get as much use as I had thought it would.  I'm looking forward to an awesome trip D and I are going on for my birthday weekend.  I'm enjoying the comfort of new friends while missing the comfort of lost friends.  I'm reading too much (or not enough?) into the silence of certain friends and family. 

Because the divorce was brought on by me, caused by my actions, I swiftly acted to make things "fair" and I think I've ended up screwing myself in many ways.  I'm paying half of his rent right now, and let him keep the better car, even though both cars were actually mine.  And now, the car I have is falling apart and looking like it will need $$$$ worth of repairs, which I can't really afford, as I'm looking at paying a deposit on a new apartment soon PLUS still paying half of his rent for 2 more months.  When he was sad and alone and everyone was looking towards me with glaring eyes, this felt right.  Now that he is officially in love with someone else, and I see him getting to spend money on going out when I can't afford to...it kinda sucks.  But this was what I agreed to, so shame on me?  I don't know anymore, I just want the final strings to be cut so that I can move on and not have to think of these things anymore.  I want that extra $325 a month to be able to save or spend as I like instead of throwing it down a hole that I get no enjoyment from.

But, at the same time as feeling all this shittiness, I'm really happy still.  I learned to cook a great dried fish stew, which I ate...and get this....ENJOYED last night.  For those of you who know my mother, she instilled in her children a deep seated loathing for the taste of anything that lives in water.  She gags at the smell of Long John Silvers and refuses to eat fried chicken from any place that now serves fish because she KNOWS that they are fried in the same oil and EW!  So, big step here.  We even put collard greens, cabbage, and asparagus in it---so it was a GREEN dried fish stew.  We also had goat meat peanut butter stew.  I'm going to be fat as hell if I don't start working out more soon. 

Nola went back to the Humane Society today.  We will miss that little asshole, but I won't miss how my legs are covered in scratches from her temper tantrums.  She was a little bitch when she didn't get her way, but of course only with me, not Derrick.  But still, we loved her.  D made me send her favorite toy and told me to be sure to let them know how he had trained her with snapping his fingers and how much she liked it.  Done.  Now to find homes for the swiftly growing kittens and mother that are stinking up our spare bedroom.

In other news, Happy Valentine's Day! 

Social Media

Oh, the age of the internet.  There are so many social faux pas to be made.  The etiquette ladies haven't yet caught up with how to be polite and professional on the Twitters and shiz.  So, I'm having to find my way around divorce in this lovely time.  To delete all photos that are evidence of past relationship or not?  I mean, they are a part of my personal history but at the same time my soon to be ex-husband just deleted his entire Facebook account to clear his pictures.  So, I went through a small cleaning spree today and cleared out a lot, but I find myself unable to delete everything.  I mean, for godsakes it was half of my life thus far.  So, we'll see.

In other news....not much.  Still have the foster cat, and the vet hasn't called me back to schedule her last check-up, so we'll have her a bit longer.  Still have a mother cat and 6 now very hungry kittens in the spare bedroom, and all of the kittens now have bald spots from ringworm.  Oh joy.  Still not studying enough for my qualifiers this semester.  Still loving my life (outside of work and school, that is).  Still not sure of how to dial international numbers as I sit here staring at the weird phone number on this pen I have from Derrick's dad's company.

I'll be going to Seattle in May for my very first ARVO conference (The Association for Research in Vision and Opthamology).  I'm getting pretty excited about it as I get more packets in the mail and info in my email.  I'll have to get some "professional" clothes together for this shiz, hope they weren't part of the clothes stolen from my car!  The conference itself should kick ass (except for the whole presenting for the first time at the "largest gathering of eye and vision researchers in the world), but also I'm super excited to go to Seattle, since I've never been up there.  Woohoo!  I'm definitely planning on taking a few extra days to see the sights, even though it will still be during general exam time and I'm sure my PI won't be too pleased with me....heh.  Anyway the best part of the conference is that on Thursday there will be a symposium on ER stress and the unfolded protein response in ocular health and disease......which is EXACTLY the topic of my thesis work.  So, I'm only sad that it will be AFTER my proposal is due, as it could be super helpful in writing that shit. 

That's all for now.  My life right now is that I spend the day at work being a bit stressed that I'm not getting far enough in my studying for the generals, and then going home and being amazingly content that everything there is so great.  So it balances, I guess?

Career

I've been thinking a lot lately about whether or not I am on the right path, career wise.  I mean, from the outside it looks like I am, but I'm just not so sure anymore.  I don't have the passion for research that I once did, and it is going to take a lot of passion to get through this semester and the years of dissertation BS that follow.  So, I'm trying to figure out if life outside of work just got in the way and ruined my drive, or if it just faded naturally and is just not to be.  Sucks to be soul searching when I'm supposed to be cramming cell biology knowledge into my head at an inhuman rate.

The Big D

Mike officially filed our divorce papers today.  I got a bit misty eyed last night driving them over to finish the signing process.  It wasn't really for the loss of it, it was for feeling foolish for getting married in the first place.  I loved my wedding--it was awesome possum and great fun.  But...I knew at the time when I did it that it wasn't right, I just refused to admit it to myself.  I knew at the time that I didn't want to lose D, and how better to lose your boyfriend than to get married to someone else?  It was foolish, and I'm sorry for everyone I hurt.

But, I have to admit, knowing this morning that it was filed, and the process really truly begun, it was a great sense of relief.  We can both move on and find what actually makes us happy, since unfortunately it wasn't each other.  And I, at least, can still look back on shiz like this with fond memories:

Mountains

Is it weird that I alternately think of this blog as either my diary or an open letter to my cousin?  Meh.  (hey Alyssa!)

This. Weekend. Was. Awesome!  Derrick's boss is on vacation, so he actually had the whole weekend off.  So, after seeing some pretty pictures posted by classmates that went on a trip last week, I decided at the last minute to check on hiking at Quartz Mountain way out in southwest OK.  I wanted to camp, but considering I have absolutely zero winter camping gear and not too much money with which to buy it right now, I found instead that the lodge there has pretty damn cheap rates in the winter.  Score!

We set out Saturday with a mind to go through Chickasha to see Mom, but she was gone so we just ate Roy's instead.  For those of you not from Chickasha...my god.  Roy's is the shiz.  Lots of people go to Jake's Rib when they're in Chickentown--its bigger, fancier (not fancy mind you, it is Chickasha after all), and you get a SHIT ton of food.  But, it is nothing compared to little Roy's over on East side.  My poor African, when we were getting out of the car, assumed it would be like most of the small towns we visit on our weekend trips and said "Wanna bet there won't be any black people in there besides me?"  I had to say, oh hon, this place is owned by a black family and its on the black side of town.  Chickasha has plenty of African-Americans, we just (sadly) are very segregated and pretty much all of them live east of 4th street.  It has to be interesting coming from a place where there are pretty much no whites and then moving to Oklahoma.  Anyway, lunch was delicious, he loved it, they were very sweet to us as always, and good times were had.  We even had enough to pack for a hiking snack later that day, as seen here:

(also seen, the 'flower' I picked for him that he wore in his hair most of the day)
Then, on to Quartz Mountain! I took the scenic route through Anadarko, showing him how depressing that town is, got to see Gotebo and teach him how to say it with the correct Okie accent, then past that to areas of the state I've never been.  The giant town of Hobart was fun, with its big time stores like Sonic and the like.  Then we started to see actual mountains!  I didn't realize these were part of the Wichita mountain range, that I'm so used to climbing down in Lawton.  550 million years old!  That's why they're not so tall, the Rocky Mountains are only 70 million years old--lots less erosion time.  Geology!

Anyway, we were very pleased by the scenery, and drove through admiring everything before checking into our adorable hotel room.  Second story balcony overlooking the lake!  Rustic wood bedframe!  Super comfy down comforter and pillows!  HOT TUB!  Indoor pool!  Fireplace in the lobby!  We were smitten.  We will be back to stay more than one night, fo sho.

So, off we went to our first trail, where we hiked our first mountain straight up to the top.  It kicked our ass, but I was proud of myself for my chunky ass keeping pace with his skinny ass. 

(I only have a few pictures from the weekend on my phone, the rest are on his, so you won't have 500 to look through today.  And yes, we hike with our Daisy BB gun.  And stop to pose with it.)
After we found a group of deer, ate our Roy's snack, and took a walk along the beach, where we noticed that the fish kill warning was very true.  There has been a large algae bloom killing off large numbers of them.  Derrick was sad that they weren't getting eaten.  Then, when we were set to walk out on the dock, what did we notice but a giganto catfish floating a bit offshore!  So, he decided we needed to make steps and go "catch" it.  Done.

We went back to the hotel, and had an amazing dinner with drinks in front of the fireplace.  The staff thought we were a little strange for wanting to eat at the coffee table by the fire, but they found Derrick pretty hilarious and humored us.  We talked past, present, and future, and relaxed for a time.  Then went, rather tipsy and far too full, to swim in the indoor heated pool and lounge in the hot tub.  Despite the inevitable nausea, it still was relaxing and felt great. 

The next day we had a great breakfast at the hotel (thanks to our server for not charging us for half the shit we ordered and then offering us more for free--dude got a great tip), made a bacon sandwich for another hiking snack, and checked out.  Then we went back to the beach and climbed the rocks there and sat watching the waves, the birds, and the sun until we were about ready to nap.  Said bye to our poor catfish that was still sitting untouched on the beach (those are the most well fed birds ever).  Then went and climbed Baldy Point.  It was a bit scarier than the other mountain; the rocks were much bigger and a lot of them were wet from runoff.  But, it was beautiful, and we stumbled upon a geocache!  It was pretty awesome to read through the logbook, look through the container and choose what to take (D took a little toy skateboard), and then look through our bag for what to leave (an emergency blanket from Mom--D included a lil note that said "Stay warm! <3 Lynsie and Derrick, thanks Malea!").  We've decided to look more into geocaching, we could do it easily on our weekend trips.  When we had almost reached the summit of ole Baldy Derrick stumbled and put his hand right onto a cactus.  It hurt my stomach to see all those gigantic thorns coming out of his hand.  I think if it would have been me I would have looked at my hand and immediately puked.

Then we headed back home and Mom made us dinner and watched part of a Rupaul's Dragrace marathon with us. Good times, he wasn't even scared away by the plethora of cats surrounding him.  Or the barky pushy little jerk dogs.  Ha! 

Then back home to rent and watch Dredd, and pass out early with my muscles already getting sore from hiking 2 mountains. 

I added a couple new sections to my "Life" section over there.  Since we go hiking so much I like to remember the last place we went.  And, I'm constantly trying to learn new words--especially in Ewe, Derrick's first language.  But I also occasionally learn some Mandarin from Hongwei or Nepali from Arjun, or even some Ga or Twi--two other Ghanaian languages that D knows fairly well.  It helps to write out the things I learn, otherwise they'll just slip away from me.  So, the last, that amuses me, is the word for flipflops--chale wote (pronounced like cha-lay woh-tay).  Chale is a word people call each other, like bro or man.  Wote means let's go.  So, its literally "man, let's go!"  Which is an awesome word for flipflops.  My other favorite is mede ku ku (pronounced like muh duh kookoo), which is literally kind of like "I beg you" but really just means please.  Say it.  Its fun.

Life is amazing.  Really.  Beyond just my life with D and my family and friends, I feel really good about work and school for the first time in months.  I was going back and forth trying to decide if I actually have the passion I really need to do this for a living and to finish my thesis, and I've realized that it doesn't matter.  I want to try to see this PhD through to the end, but I don't feel trapped into it anymore.  I felt for a time that I had committed to this and I would foolish if I needed or wanted to quit.  Now, it is my curiosity driving me forward.  Can I do this?  Will my project be fruitful?  It is just my wonder keeping me in it, which is awesome.  It is no longer the thought of what anyone will think of me if I fail.  Because even if I do, people will still love me, I won't be any less smart, and my life will still be amazing.  I don't need a lot of money or prestige, but if I get it, hey!  That'll be awesome!  If not, Derrick and I can still go hiking and still go have a nice dinner with my mom.  And I'll be fine.

Stunted

I am emotionally stunted.  I have no idea how to talk to people, and my ability to carry out a healthy, adult relationship is pretty shaky.  At best.  But I'm trying to learn, god dammit!  After the crash and burn and utter stupidity in the way I ended my last relationship, I'm determined to start out right with this one.  If it starts with a strong base and fails because of other reasons, we can say we gave it a real try. 

So, yeah.  The past week was one of me being super upset over a plethora of small things that added up to make a Big Thing, and I was then paralyzed by it and unable to talk about any of it.  Then it exploded into ugliness.  Then....we worked it out.  In a nice, talking it out calmly, listening to each other and each meeting in the middle kind of way that I've never seen happen before in any of my relationships (ha...this is only my third for godsakes).  It was brilliant.  So yeah.  I'm happy as a fucking otter (clams just don't look happy to me, otters are always out being awesome and having a great time).  I know its cheesy and barf inducing, but every day I'm excited that I get to go home and see this guy.  Every night I feel at home and safe because I get to fall asleep with him.  And I look forward to every weekend that I get to hang out with him, even if its just sitting on the couch.  I feel like no matter how much my (soon-to-be)ex-husband and I cared for each other, we fed off each other's bad qualities.  They were magnified when they were put together.  Now I feel like D and I bring out each other's good sides.  I exercise more because we both want to spend time outdoors.  I eat better because we enjoy cooking together.  I laugh more because he's ridiculous.  And so on and so forth.

So, maybe this old girl can learn new tricks?  Maybe everyone that told me their 30s were way better than their 20s were right after all.  My first year was stressful and poopy, but this year is going pretty damn swimmingly. 

In other news, we're going to Quartz Mountain tomorrow to hike and stay in the lodge for a super cheap winter rate. 

In other other news, I got the comments back on my pre-proposal and there is only one tiny portion one of my committee members wants me to change.  Another member (the one I look up to the most) just said "Great!  Nothing needs to be changed, I look forward to working with you and seeing how this project turns out!"  And a third gave me a detailed list of notes on every part of the paper, which is amazing and will really help me when I'm turning this little 2 page pre-proposal into a Big Fat 10 Page Proposal with References and all that shiz.  Yay!

Ok, off to inject mice, take retinas, and then go get groceries to take hiking. 

Busted

Ok, I'm finding myself alllllllmost sliding back into unhappiness, so here is my list of loves for this moment:  love notes, snuggling, jarred fetuses, experiments that work on the first try, checking off my to-do list, having a great committee, family, ginger tea with peak milk, brown rice, and spring temperatures.

Anyway, on to my eventful weekend.  Generally Derrick works 6 days a week, but he took off Monday in anticipation of my long MLK weekend.  The plan was to hike and possibly camp somewhere.  Yeah well.

Saturday night we passed out on the couch watching Dark Knight Rises with our friend Justin.  Sunday morning I woke up, thought about wearing my favorite boots, and realized they were in the car.  I tried to find my purse, but couldn't, and forgot about it for a while.  We felt a bit lazy so instead of leaving early to go hike as planned we started watching one of my favorite shows, Carnivale.  Then we finally decided to go hike somewhere and also go to Super Cao Ngyen (the big awesome Asian market).  When I went downstairs to see if my missing purse was in my car......the car wasn't there.  It didn't really seem real so I walked around for a while just looking around.  Then I walked back upstairs and joked about it.  Then I ran back downstairs and freaked.  I was more freaked out that my car was stolen with my purse in it--as my purse had Derrick's share of the bills in it...in cash. 

So, we sat down for a second trying to figure out when the purse and the car would have gone missing and if there was a reasonable explanation for it.  Justin had left at around 2am, and we couldn't remember if he had his car.  So, even though it was unlikely, we were a little hopeful he had just taken it without asking.  So we called, and of course, our reliable-as-hell (yeah right) little J had forgotten to pay his cell phone bill and it was cut off.  So, we drove directly over to his place and found that he did indeed have my purse, with all cash intact (I had forgotten I'd ridden with him to rent the movie and left my purse in there).

So, I actually felt super relieved and not entirely freaked out about the car yet.  I was just glad to have my purse, and it still didn't feel real that the car could be missing.  Neither of us could believe it actually, and we just kind of joked about it.  I realized I had no idea what the license plate was on the damn thing, and I had JUST went to the tag agency to switch the title over from dad's name to mine, so of course I didn't have it yet.  Lovely.  Luckily when I was trying to get insurance on it I had taken a picture of the VIN and still had that on my phone.  PHEW!

So, called the police, which was annoying and took forever and there were several stupid things with that, but eventually I had my report filed and a promise from the police officer that went something like "Yeah, Honda Accords, pretty much THE most stolen car, we'll probably find it in an alleyway stripped for parts."  Cool.

So, on with our day, which ended up being lovely.  I figured worrying about not having a car wasn't going to make me magically have a car, so we went to Super Cao Nguyen and did what I love to do most in grocery stores--went slowly down every aisle, twice, and looked at every single thing.  Awesome!  We bought some fresh fish for stew, and a few African things that he remembered eating and wanted me to try.  Plus some awesome possum ginger tea that tastes downright amazing with condensed milk in it.  Oh yeah, and of course strawberry pocky and a cream bun for moi.  Afterwards we went to Taj for Indian buffet thanks to my lovely stepsis who gave me a gift certificate for Xmas.  It was awesome and has the best mango lassies ever.  We ate like kings and then went home and fell asleep watching Carnivale.

We woke up the next morning with a plan to go hiking, but I had a missed call from the police.  So, I called and found out that my car had been found!  Called the impound lot and found out it would be over $250 to get it back, I would need the registration that I did not yet have, it would be $4 extra each day they had it, and they couldn't tell me what shape it was in.  I didn't even know if it had been completely stripped, was completely fine, was totalled in a wreck, or what.  AGH!  So, realizing that if I paid that $250 I would not be able to pay the $650 total in rent I pay right now (let's call it alimony), I did what any self-respecting 30 year old would do and called daddy.  Who kindly offered to pay.  (now let's be fair and say that if he hadn't, Mom would have bailed me out, but she's bailed me out way too much lately, so I didn't want her to yet again)

So, I found out my registration had come in the mail and made a plan to pick up the car the next day.  Mom called and asked if we wanted to go to the zoo, which sounded better than driving somewhere to hike in the cold.  We packed up a lunch and went to meet her.  And on the way....got a flat tire.  And when we changed the tire to the donut, found the donut was flat.  So we drove on the bad tire to the zoo, and said fuck it and went inside.  It was lovely, and lunch was awesome.  Oh, and Derrick fed me to a lion.

After, we went to buy some fix a flat, changed into the spare tire again, which partially inflated.  We drove it to a gas station to air it up, and it was fucked.  So, changed back to the bad tire and drove slowly, slowly, slowly home. 

Next day....the impound lot.  The lady freaked me out and told me it had been wrecked a few times and I might not want it, so Dad and I went back to survey the damage.  From the outside...not bad!  I had indeed been wrecked a few times, but its just the paint off the front passenger bumper and scraped all down both sides.  Shitty, but not undriveable.  They had, however, completely broken out the ignition switch and cracked the plastic all around it and pulled off part of the driver's door frame.  And taken everything I had out of the front and back seats, the glove compartment, and the middle consoles.  Which includes (but is not limited to): Mike's wedding ring (mine was in the floorboard, they forgot it), a big bag of my clothes, my running shoes and workout clothes, a bag of pictures, my special edition fancy Origin of Species book, my favorite expensive water bottle, my extra brake fluid (the brakes still need to be fixed), a bunch of Holiday Barbies, the ice scrapers, my trash, my napkins, some science papers, and they ripped apart and then burned my parking pass for OU.  There were a pair of zebra print gloves, prescription glasses, 3 phone chargers, an ipod charger, and pretzels all over the front of the car, and the back seat was covered with cookies and valentine's day sprinkles.  They had apparently chain smoked the entire time and didn't use any of the ashtrays, but instead used the floorboard and the dash.  It smells like a fucking bar in the car and gave me a headache just on the drive home.  The trunk wasn't really touched, which is awesome because that's where my favorite boots were!  Plus my boardgames and a buncha other shit.  Yes, this does teach me not to live out of my car so much.  Anyway, they had left a bag filled with clothes back there.  Several pairs of looney toons boxershorts, a pair of jeans with belt, some white tshirts, a sweater, a hoodie, and lots of socks. 

So, for now, I have to drive with the windows down from the stink, I need to go to the carwash and vacuum out the detritus, and I have to start my car by sticking a screwdriver (that they kindly left me in the front seat) into the steering column.  And I have to park it at dad's because a baby could steal it right now, all you need is a little strength to pry the door open and a screwdriver to start it with.  So....joy.  A new ignition switch is $155.99 from Oreillys.  UGH.  Assholes.  This is what I get for being poor and only having liability on my poor 1996 car.  The total to just pick it up from the impound lot was just a few bucks over $250.  Thank you dad.

Lesson:  hate everyone, especially drunk young smokers. 

People are made of meat.

I'm determined to write a non-sad, non-relationship related post.  That shit gets boring.  Let's talk about my overly-fascinating life instead!

My narcissistic side copied Dan from Single Dad Laughing and made a little sidebar gadget over there to tell you what I'm loving right now.  In case you're interested in my exquisite tastes.  You know you are.

I'm learning all about green card issues from several different angles right now, and it all serves to make me very glad I was born in this country.  That shit is stressful!  One of our postdocs is working on his green card based on his career, and is going to end up spending over $10,000 to get it.  BUT--he's FINALLY in the final stages of it, so yay!  We're throwing him a party when that shit goes through, he's been dealing with it forever.  There's also the issues of my boy's green card, but that's a conversation for another day.  Suffice it to say it is stressful knowing that at some point your man could go into "expired" status and fear deportation.  It has happened to one of his family members in the past, and it sucks balls.  But I have faith it will all work out fine.

This motherfucker here has got me liking one of the very few musical genres I have historically always hated.  Reggae has always been up there with new country in my "Ok, a COUPLE songs are ok, but mostly this shit is balltastic!"  But, being around someone who listens to reggae a minimum of 2 hours a day gets you to the point where its almost a defense mechanism to start loving some of that shit.  I've always kinda been the kind of person that ends up liking a song when they know all the lyrics, no matter what my opinion of it was the first time I heard it (hence my love of 90s soft rock, from so many hours of riding in the car with my father and stepmom).  So, I now have a vast library of reggae that I know all the lyrics to, and I can tell the difference between Peter Tosh and Culture from the first line of a song.  I've seen the Bob Marley documentary more times than I'd like to admit, and I know too much about stupid rastafarianism (such as the fact that they hate that word).  Don't worry, I think that anyone who believes Haile Selassie actually was the second coming of Jesus is dumb as hell.  I do like that they promote vegetarianism, keeping your hair natural, and not wearing makeup.  But any Bible based religion will always hold women as less than men, so fuck that shit.  Fuck you Bible.  :-P 

I still hate the song No Woman No Cry.

My foster kitty has ringworm, and I'm trying as hard as possible to keep it from spreading.  I am keeping a mother cat and her 6 (!) kittens in the spare bedroom, and praying they don't get it.  And that no humans get it.  Tonight will be fun, we're going to give her a dip!  She'll smell like sulfur and scratch the shit out of us.  Then, its a fun evening of steam cleaning the carpet!  Yay!

In other news, anyone want to adopt a kitten?  Eh?

In watching my food intake compared to my general health, I've noticed something disturbing.  I've noticed that I should probably cut bread out of my diet.  This isn't a total disaster, as most of what we eat are yummy stews with rice or some sort of cassava based starchy substance (fufu FTW!).  But it still sucks for this bread-loving woman of Irish descent.  No more sweet sweet Barnes bread from the African market.  No more Hawaiian sweet rolls stuffed with goat stew.  :(  But, it will be worth it to get away from the horrible acid reflux that bread seems to cause and the awful headaches I have when I've been eating bread and stop (food withdrawals are not awesome). 

I am ridiculously poor right now.  Its not so bad, considering the boy is very good at taking random shit from the pantry and making delicious meals.  But I would like to suddenly have my debt wiped away.  That would be awesome..........

I've been listening to KOSU almost nonstop lately.  Its either NPR, or it is music that makes me happy.  Derrick's little heart almost burst when we were on our way to the Great Salt Plains State Park on Sunday and they played a block of reggae.  Reggae on a station in Oklahoma?  He was in heaven.  Then I got the same treatment driving home 2 nights ago and I heard Salem.  SALEM!  On the radio!  In Oklahoma!  I could have died right then.  Side story--D said when he first moved to this country he asked his sister how many reggae stations there were in Oklahoma and when she said none he was devastated.  Side note--if you haven't heard Salem GET ON THAT SHIT.  Start with the song King Night.  Although Sick is my personal favorite.

Ok, that's the main news in my life.  Hope you enjoyed this view into my cluttered little head.

Confidence

I find my lack of confidence alarming.  No matter how much evidence to the contrary, I have a deep-seated belief that everything I do and everything I am is pretty shitty.  I'm working very hard to shake this, but it is still there, whispering to me.  I can project as much as I want, and tell myself over and over that these beliefs are false, but they stick, somewhere under the surface, just waiting to jump on me when I least expect it.

You're not smart.  You're not pretty.  You're not funny.  No one really likes you.  You will be alone.  You will be unsuccessful. 
You are annoying.  You are unnattractive.  You are stupid.  You are fat.  You are a bad person.

I wasn't raised like this.  I was raised by someone who had a mother who constantly told them they weren't good enough, so she raised me the opposite.  We were told how smart we are, how great we are, how much we are loved.  But still, this lack of confidence.  I see it in my brother.  I see it in my friends, too.  Is it this country?  Does our society instill this in us from an early age?  Is it the consumerist belief that you need to buy more, more, more to be good enough?  Fuck, I don't know.

All I know is that this needs to stop.  We need to realize that we have faults.  We have weaknesses.  But, we have strengths.  We have greatness in us.  We are good enough, and we can become even better.  Nothing is stopping us.  I'm not saying that we can be whatever we want--that line of bullshit created a generation of us that are overeducated and cannot find real jobs.  I'm just saying we are smart enough, pretty enough, nice enough, and we won't be alone.  We are loveable.  We have friends and family who actually like us for who we are.  And if we don't, we can fucking find them.  Trash the ones that don't.  Ignore them.  Focus on the positive.

Success should never be measured by money or belongings.  It should be measured by happiness and love.  And if I go by that, I'm becoming more successful every day.  My confidence is getting higher and I'm able more and more to tell those silly negative voices in the back of my head to shut the hell up.

Carousel

The term "rollercoaster of emotions" is trite and overused.  So, I'm saying I'm on a carousel right now.  I'm riding a pretty, pretty horse, and going around and around looking at the pretty sights...but sometimes I start to feel a little motion sickness and want to get off.  Ok, that's ridiculous.  Seriously though...I do love a good carousel.  I always took the time (if there weren't too many people) to carefully pick out the prettiest steed and then while riding I would tell it how awesome it was while petting its mane.  Of course, if there was a rabbit to ride, hot damn!  I was in heaven.

Oh wait a minute...why the hell was I writing this blog again?  Oh yeah.  I'm still cycling back and forth between sadness and anxiety, numbness, and sheer joy.  The happy parts of my life are slowly but surely creeping up on the others, though, and I'm able to focus more on the awesomeness than on the stressfulness.  Here, lists are fun, let's compare them.

List of sad:
School, stressful as always
Lab, still feeling a bit behind and very unmotivated
Family, still freaking out about my life choices
Friends, those that I've lost are still fresh wounds

List of happy (thanks, Selina!):
School--I'm feeling more confident since the whole A-in-the-middle-of-a-breakup
Lab--Dr. Ding is happier with my work than she had been, and I'm understanding the direction I will be taking more
Family--mostly supportive, and some of them have really truly surprised me
Friends--I have awesome ones that make me laugh and stick by me

Also:
Every Sunday we've been hiking somewhere.  Whether it be close, like the trails behind Lake Hefner, or driving up to Stillwater to hike the lake, down to Norman to Thunderbird, etc.  We take the soccer ball and the BB gun, and I'm getting much better with both.  I can kick the ball up over obstacles and my aim is getting pretty good with it, and as for the gun, holy shit I'm pretty awesome!  Now to get my crossbow....
I've been eating better, almost never eating out.  We cook a lot, and I get to eat damn good African stew several times a week. I'm even learning to like fish (if seasoned well, of course).
I've been exercising more, I have some apps on my new Kindle (thanks Mom!) that are pretty awesome and kick my ass just enough to give me that soreness the next day that I love, plus I make an effort to keep moving at work and to always take the stairs.
D has started playing soccer, and I'm considering upping my practice times and possibly, just maybe, joining the team.  There are a lot of girls playing, actually the best player on their team is a girl.  It would force me to get more exercise, more social involvement, and it looks like hella fun.  Of course, me being me, it would be a major step--playing a team sport?  Craziness!  We'll see, I have to get a lot better before I'd submit myself to that embarassment. 
I finally got a library card in OKC, and although I really don't have time to read anything non-science, I think I'm going to start renting books on tape.  I miss reading for fun, and now that my commute to work is between 20-30 minutes each way, I could easily burn through some books that have been on my reading list for years.
I love being a part of the foster program for the Humane Society.  No matter how much I love this little kitty we have right now, I like that she will go to a new home and we can give another animal a chance after her.  I got an email yesterday with a list needing homes last night, and was very tempted to take a dog (or two), but resisted because of Nola's recent spay.  I don't need to add stress to her while she's healing.  She'll be going to the adoption center soon (sad face) and then we'll be able to take a new animal.  Although, once we've decided where we're living for the next year (our lease is up), I'm seriously considering getting a permanent house rabbit from Heartland Rabbit Rescue (where I volunteered before moving to NOLA).

So, even though I have some low levels of anxiety remaining, and every once in a while I need a good cry to process shit, overall I'm the happiest I've been in a long time.  Hopefully I can clear out the rest of the emotional clutter some time soon and just be able to focus solely on my list of happy.  Derrick's ridiculously positive attitude about life is helping a lot.  If we can both find a balance between the two of us--my overly fretful nature and his overly laidback, we'll make it, by god!