The iPod Embarassment

Ok, admit it. You have songs on your iPod (or mix CD’s or computer or whatever) that you should be embarassed that you have. Those songs that you rock out to in the shower and bellow out in the car; the tunes that you just SHOULDN’T love but you simply can’t help it. Sometimes they’re cheesy, sometimes they’re just plain bad – but you love them anyway. The songs that are like that one boyfriend or girlfriend you had – you look back and think “what was I thinking?”

So, should I die and someone find these secret gems on my iPod, I am going to save them from having to publicly humiliate me. I am going to admit, here and now, some of the embarassing songs I own:

• Mmmmbop by Hanson – it’s just damn catchy
• Wannabe by The Spice Girls – ok, who wants some girl power?
• I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (the Coca-Cola jingle) – ahhh, the childhood memories
• Bust a Move by Young MC and Wild Thing by Tone Loc – yikes, were these really the songs of our teenage years?
• Hold On by Wilson Phillips and After the Rain by Nelson – oh, the teen angst that these songs recall
• various camp songs like The Princess Pat, Kookabura, Barges, 500 Miles, and The Cannibal King – thank you Sprucelands campers
• Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars – what can I say, it has sentimental value and I will always love the person who gave this song to me
• the entire soundtrack to The Rocky Horror Picture Show – the cult classic is a Halloween tradition for me
• my favorites from the Statler Brothers, John Denver, and Conway Twitty – my mom and dad used to listen to these
• bagpipe music – yes, I *know* it sounds like cats being murdered but I like it
• gospel hymns like Just A Closer Walk With Thee, Amazing Grace, I’ll Fly Away, The Rugged Cross – they make me think of some very special people in my life
• Lift Every Voice – ok, I admit it, I was trying to learn the words to “the black national anthem” to impress my mother-in-law
• the greatest hits of Peter, Paul & Mary, Pete Seeger, and the Kingston Trio – give me a guitar and I’m ready to folk
• the cast albums for about 900 Broadway shows (including Ragtime, Rent, South Pacific, Oklahoma, Sweet Charity, Phantom of the Opera, Showboat, Godspell, Oliver!, Carousel, Tommy, Titanic, Side Show, and more)

My brother once told me that I am “musically schizophrenic” and after looking over my iPod list, I guess I have to agree. Who else has a playlist that runs from Glenn Miller to Lady Gaga, from Pitbull to Patsy Cline, from Blondie to the Boston Pops? But surely I can’t be the only one that has eclectic music tastes. So go ahead, share with me, you’ll feel better….

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Liar Liar Pants on Fire

So I came home the other night and my entire house smelled like smoke. And not of the electrical or chemical burning, either – no, this was cigarette or cigar smell. I noticed, too, a haze in almost every room and, while I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. So, I stupidly forced a confrontation with the asshole with whom I share my house. Here is how the conversation went:

Me: “why do I smell smoke?”

Him: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Me: “I definitely smell it and the whole house is smoky. Was there a problem with the oven or the dryer or something?”

Him: “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” (looking at me like I am the dumbest human being on the planet)

Me: “Was someone smoking in here?”

Him: “No. Who would I have in here?” (now getting antagonistic)

Me: “God only knows.” (thinking about the legions of trampy mistresses) “But if no one was in here smoking, I’m going to have to call 9-1-1 because we must have a fire burning in the wall or something.”

Him: “Don’t do that. I had a cigar, ok?” (downright pissy now) “A guy had a baby and gave out cigars so I smoked it.”

Me: “You don’t have to lie to me. We’re not married anymore so please don’t disrespect me by lying about stupid shit.”

Him: “I didn’t lie to you about anything.” (acting all wounded and insulted)

So, this was by far the DUMBEST argument I think I have ever been involved in. He lied straight to my face and it wasn’t until I had to threaten to call 9-1-1 that he finally told the truth. And then he tells me that he didn’t lie to me. And it was all over the stupidest, pettiest thing. What the hell??

First of all, we are trying to sell our house and, as my husband tells the story, I am sabotaging the sale. Never mind that *he* is the one that leaves dirty laundry out in the front hall on a day he knows the house is being shown. Never mind that *he* is the one that has a derelict car, lawnmower, AND air compressor hanging out in the front yard like the freaking Clampetts. And now he’s going to smoke cigars in the house and have it smelling bad – and somehow I bet that will all be my fault too.

Secondly, it just clearly illustrates for me how easily and naturally he can lie to me. Obviously (since his mistress claims they’ve been together since before he and I married) he’s very skilled at keeping secrets and lying to me. And, obviously, I was too naive and stupid to realize it and question it. Only now, when I am wiser and don’t have anything to lose, do I question the truthfulness of what he tells me. How sad is that?

And lastly, it just irritates the crap out of me that I so clearly have withstood this kind of disrespect. How long have I been dumb enough to be lied to and verbally abused? And what is it about my emotional makeup that not only tolerated it for almost 10 years but also comes to expect it? What on God’s green earth is wrong with me? OY!

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Diversity Diva

Intolerance and prejudice is not inherently born. Watch a group of small children sometime – they do not discriminate based on skin color or ethnicity; they will play with anyone who is nice to them.

Public schools are therefore, I believe, the ideal environments for re-training children to be tolerant of other people. I feel sorry for home-schooled children, who have a limited exposure to people with other backgrounds, beliefs, or identities. Are we doing a disservice to today’s youths by not forcing them to see the world through others’ eyes? Public high schools put kids (at an age when they are most impressionable) in direct daily contact with people who come from different backgrounds. Maybe they speak a different language or eat different foods. Maybe they have less or more money. Maybe they go to a different church or have differently colored skin. Maybe they are of another sexual orientation or come from a blended family. Maybe they cope with a disability or have different political ideals. Whatever their differences, the pre-teenage and teenage years are the times to teach kids to accept and embrace the differences in all human beings.

Yes, I guess you could say I’m somewhat rabid about this subject – I am sick to death of the intolerance and prejudice I see in the world. I was raised to believe that all people are equal, regardless of race, class, religion, education level, gender, ethnicity, etc.. I married a man of a different race and social background than mine. I lived with two lesbians in college and stood up for them at their wedding. I have 6 wonderful godkids who are a mix of colors. I have friends in the fire department from all professional and socioeconomic walks of life. I am good ol’ redneck with 2 college degrees, able to rope a cow and write a thesis in equal measure. I firmly believe that diversity is what makes our experience on this planet such a special experience!

Imagine if you woke up every morning and could only wear white clothes, eat white bread, drive a white car that looked just like everyone else’s, went to work in a small white cubicle, and only saw 1 other person (who was also white) ever.

Imagine if you never saw a colorful painting or a dramatic sculpture, never got to eat different styles of food, never heard music, could never travel to anywhere but your house and your job. Imagine if you only knew people who agreed with you on EVERYTHING, from politics to movies, fashion to philosophy. Imagine if you couldn’t go to school and learn about other histories, cultures, or ideas. Imagine if you couldn’t go to church and study the Bible in the way YOU wanted. Imagine if you never heard a foreign language or saw a movie or read a book. Imagine if you only had friends that looked, sounded, and thought just like you. Imagine if your television only got 1 station showing 1 program.

We live in a diverse world, rich with colors, flavors, textures, sights, and sounds. I love the fact that I don’t live in an all-white world. I celebrate my friends and loved ones who lead different lives than mine. And I pray that someday the world will learn that tolerance and acceptance of others are the positive keys to a peaceful world!

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Shut Up and Drive…

Shut up and drive
You don’t know what you’re talking about
He’s not the one
You ought to know that by now
You’ve got one of those hearts
That keeps changing your mind
Your heart has a way of making you stay
So shut up and drive

Don’t look in the mirror
He might have that look in his eyes
The one thats so strong
It strangles your will to survive
He’s mastered the art
Of looking sincere
His eyes have a way of making you stay
Don’t look in the mirror

I’m the voice you never listen to
And I had to break your heart to make you see
That he’s the one who will be missing you
And you’ll only miss the man
That you wanted him to be

Turn the radio on
To drown out the sound of goodbye
Blink back the tears
Show me you’ve still got your pride
Just get yourself lost
In a sad country song
Those guys that they play
Know just what to say
Turn the radio on.

I’m the voice you never listen to
And I had to break your heart to make you see
That he’s the one who will be missing you
And you’ll only miss the man
That you wanted him to be

Shut up and drive
Don’t look in the mirror
Turn the radio on
Get out of here
Shut up and drive

This is an older country song from Chely Wright (who, fyi, recently made headline news by being brave enough to be herself – look it up). So when did my life become a country song? Oh, hell, it’s been that way for a long time. I have a cheating husband with a drinking problem. I drive a pickup truck (or I would if I wasn’t being a total sap and letting the dumbass borrow it). I used to ride horses and pick up cowboys at rodeos. I went through a Wrangler phase and thought that a man with a big belt buckle would sweep me off my feet. I think Reba and Shania are the grand divas of girl power. I would marry Alan Jackson in a heartbeat. I think big tires on a truck are sexy.

But never in my life have I had such a hard time listening to the damn radio! I can’t go anywhere in my car without hearing a song that either makes me cry or makes me want to punch one of my exes in the head. I don’t know what is wrong with me! And I don’t know why I would want to linger in the past and rekindle those relationships! Why on earth would it be a good idea to reconcile with my husband? He’s lied to me, cheated on me, and verbally and emotionally abused me for years. What flawed part of my DNA is encouraging me to go back, to make it work?

Soooo….turn up the radio, blink back the tears. Don’t look back, just look forward. Get out, start over, try again. Shut up and drive.

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Believing the Worst

From Pretty Woman:

Vivian: People put you down enough, you start to believe it.
Edward Lewis: I think you are a very bright, very special woman.
Vivian: The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?

How true is THIS? How many of us tend to put ourselves down (either in our heads or out loud to others) because it’s easier than believing that we are good, kind, smart, funny, loving human beings.

I often believe the worst things I say and think about myself because it is easier than believing the good things. It is easier to revel in the anger and hurt -why, I have to ask, does everyone seem to want to write me off? I think maybe it’s my own fault. By trying to blend in and be invisible, I think I have invited everyone else to consider me as unimportant and insignificant as I consider myself. I have allowed others to treat me badly because I expected it – and since I couldn’t control others into giving me positive, life-affirming feedback, I took what I could get.

It makes me so sad to think that any of my friends and loved ones for a second have ever believed a single bad thing about themselves. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why can’t we embrace who we are and believe that we are good? Now, I’m not saying that all people are good – and I’m not saying all people have trouble accepting compliments and believing the best about themselves.  Sadly, I see these difficulties as a trend more in my female friends than in my male buddies. Why do women have to be so hard on themselves? Is it in our genetic makeup? Our societal conditioning? Is it because of our mothers? WHY can’t we love ourselves for who we are??

I find myself constantly asking of myself “am I nice/kind/pretty/smart/generous/loving enough?” I cannot accept that I am who I am – it is like I am constantly seeking to improve myself or to live up to someone else’s ideals. When, may I ask, will I simply acccept myself and learn to love myself?

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When Happily Ever After Isn’t….

When we first started dating and even in the early years of our marriage, my husband and I fought relatively little. I admit that I probably stored a lot of emotions up and, after a long fuse-burning, would let go in a monumental sandbag against him. Of course, being a man, he often didn’t know:

a) what I was talking about when I referred to events that happened months ago or

b) why I could possibly still be so upset.

So we’d end up arguing and I’d wind up crying and then we would eventually reach an uneasy truce that eventually faded into our normal bonhomie.

Bonhomie – what a great word to describe what our married life was like (and a fabulous SAT word, too). I don’t think, even in our earliest days, we ever had that burning passion that is the stuff of romance novels and pornography. I think, now in hindsight, that my husband just simply isn’t hardwired for that kind of positive, urgent emotion. We never had that flame of romance – it was always more of a slow comfortable ember. We were great friends, very compatible as roommates and pals.

But, looking back, I’m not sure I should have settled for that. Maybe I should stop watching chick flicks and reading books about lifelong loves – they are tricking me into thinking that kind of intense love is possible. And if I should ever had a child of my own, I will not read them fairy tales – “happily ever after” is just a myth. For a while I had “happy in the moment” but that is over now. So now I am going to create a “happy with myself.” Wish me luck!

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Surviving as a “Victim”

Not many people outside of a very close circle of friends know that I am a survivor of molestation. As a child, I was sexually abused by a female cousin off and on for almost a decade. I have, thankfully, repressed most of the incidents – and have chosen not to bring them back out in the open via hypnosis or any other form of therapy. What’s past is past and I am not going to dwell on it. I could, of course, use this as an excuse for a variety of my mental and emotional problems – but what would that get me? I would have an easy excuse to act however I wanted – but I don’t want that. Interestingly, when my husband’s mistress contacted me to tell me about her affair with my husband, she said she’d had a rough life and deserved happiness wherever she could find it – so she was going to have my husband. What an interesting rationalization for clearly immoral behavior (dishonesty, adultery, betrayal, general sluthood)! I did wonder then if I could use the excuse of my past to do whatever the hell I wanted…

I have never publicly spoken about my experiences and have kept it a very private matter up until now. I, however, have recently realized that the abuse, as much of a detriment as it was for me, also taught me a lot about surviving as a victim and about pulling myself up by the bootstraps and moving on with my life.

Recent events have caused me to consider the word victim. The dictionary defines a victim as “one that is subjected to oppression, hardship, or mistreatment.” But a secondary definition is someone that “has been tricked or duped.” I could easily classify myself as a victim, not only because of the past but also because of the present. The abuse clearly victimized me – but so did my husband. I have been tricked, duped, AND mistreated – but I refuse to allow either situation to define me or defeat me.

I don’t want to be a victim!  There is such a helpless, passive implication in that word. I want to be a survivor instead, someone who has lived through some bad things and come out whole on the other side. The dictionary defines a survivor as one who “continues to function and prosper” after a difficulty. I admit that I haven’t had a maiming accident or a traumatic disaster, life-altering tragedy or catastrophic injury – which I realize makes me a hell of a lot luckier than other survivors out there! But I am determined to not only survive but to thrive after the latest setbacks.  I am going to face life, from here on, not as a victim but as a survivor!

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Control Freak

Control – what a curious creature in my life. I am, as they say, wound tight – I don’t let go and let loose very often. It’s not a critical thing or even one that causes me too much additional stress. I am simply just not comfortable in situations where I cannot plan, organize, or control what goes on around me. I get nervous, then uncomfortable, and eventually unhappy. Hence, I usually just avoid those situations and make my life in other ways. I have, most of the time in the past, let the Control Freak in me take over and limit my ability to interact with the world.

Reaching the drinking age was a real eye-opening experience for me – a perfectly-legal chemical intake that could make me relax – what a marvelous idea! No longer did I get nervous in social situations and it was remarkably easy to make friends and talk to boys. Of course, the first time that I got truly blitzed, stone-cold drunk, I totally lost control and puked in Technicolor all over my friend Tracy’s bathroom. So now I’ve learned to balance the inhibition-loosening buzz without getting too drunk and losing control – most of the time.

But unfortunately, I can’t drink all the time – I do have to work and all that other responsible stuff. I have found myself indulging (and overindulging) much more frequently since the separation – I think it’s the way I can cope with the overwhelming, suffocating fear and anger and bitterness. Yes, yes, I know, that’s the slippery slope to alcoholism. Don’t sign me up for AA yet – I’m just coping with some issues. It will resolve itself, don’t you worry.

And I still have control. I get up every morning and go to my job just fine. I do my firehouse duties just fine (although I do miss the actual firefighting – I can’t wait until my knee is fixed). I go out and socialize and see people just fine. I’m not doing so well in social situations, especially with large groups of people and/or people that are mutual friends of my soon-to-be-ex-husband – but I’m doing just fine.

So now I’m going to work on loosening the control a little bit. Learn to let loose and stop being the “good girl” all the time. I think I’ve earned the right to loosen the strings a little bit.  So you all have permission to tell me when I’m getting uptight and squinky – let me know so I can put the Control Freak away for a while.

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Touching our hearts, giving us hope…Megan’s Legacy

Two Christmases ago, my friends Tim and Patty were told that their teenage daughter had bone cancer. Less than a year later, after a long and very difficult battle, Megan earned her Angel Wings. I learned an amazing set of lessons from watching the family struggle with the illness, the end, and now the surviving afterwards.  

 Dr. David Loeb is a leading pediatric oncologist at Johns Hopkins and has treated Megan and helped to fight her cancer. He wrote two blog entries about the McNeals and Megan’s wonderful spirit and bravery and attitude. I thought I would share them both with all of you so that Megan’s legacy is long and far-reaching.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know that Megan brought me the gift of hope and faith in humanity, community, kindness, and courage. I celebrate Megan’s life and lift a prayer of thanksgiving for the wonderful gifts she brought to the lives of everyone she knew.

I know many heroes – cops, firemen, paramedics, dispatchers, teachers, nurses, etc. – but with this I want to honor a family who defines the very term. Please, when you are saying your prayers tonight, say an extra one for a wonderful young woman and her loving family who have taught me about love, peace, courage, and strength.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009
“I don’t know how you do your job”

Most days, I love what I do.

Today was not one of those days.

Today I sat down with a 13 year old girl that I take care of, along with her parents, and we reviewed the results of her most recent scans. The news was not good. A month ago she had no evidence of disease. Today, there is a large mass on one side of her skull, a smaller mass on the other side, a dozen nodules in her lungs, and cancer throughout her pelvis, in both thighs, and in her arm. A mass near her left hip has caused what we call a “pathologic fracture,” which means the tumor has broken the bone, causing a lot of pain.

Needless to say, I made her cry. Her parents, too. They all know what this means. She told me she doesn’t want to die — she only wants to live. I wish I could help her achieve that goal, but I know I can’t.

So many things can come out of days like this. Today I was impressed by the capacity of the human soul for compassion. After I told the patient what was going on, her father looked at me and he said, “I don’t know how you do your job.” Despite what I had just told him, he was concerned about me!

Later in the day, I went back to check on the family. I caught the patient’s mother in the hall and we talked. We spoke about palliative care … about making the most of the time her daughter has left … and I asked if she thought the patient wanted to see me again. I was surprised by her answer.

She told me that I should go in and talk to her daughter. Partly because her daughter likes me and is always cheered up by my presence. But… she also said, “I think it will be good for you, too. I saw the tears in your eyes. It might be good for you to see her looking happy.”

Wow. This morning, she found out her child had months to live, and this afternoon she was concerned about me. She was trying to comfort me!

The human spirit is amazing sometimes.

Sunday, October 11, 2009
I went in to say “Good bye”

We knew this day was coming. Over the summer her cancer came back even though she was getting chemotherapy. We switched gears, giving radiation and chemotherapy aimed at controlling pain, no longer at curing disease. But that doesn’t make this day any easier.

Overnight, last night, it became harder to breathe and her pain worsened. A chest x-ray showed almost no air getting to her left lung. Hoping there was fluid that could be removed, she had a CT scan today; but there was no fluid, only tumor. Tumor that hadn’t been there 10 days ago.

I went in to the hospital today, to see her one last time before she went home. We watched some of the football game together. We talked about her kindergarten teacher, a brave woman who was a tremendous support before she died of breast cancer in August. She told me about the tombstone she wants – a softball diamond with a girl sliding into home plate, with a caption that reads, “Safe at home!”

But rather than complaining, or asking “why me?” the young woman and her family had different plans to discuss. Their community had raised a large sum of money to help cover medical expenses, and there is going to be a lot left over. As her father said, “The community has done a lot for us. We need to give something back.” So, on the day she was going home, my patient was deciding how she was going to help her community.

They decided to give some money to a fund established in memory of her kindergarten teacher. They decided to give some money to a neighbor who, because of sudden illness, had fallen months behind on his mortgage payments. And they talked about how they could still contribute to Ewing sarcoma research. “Just because this is happening to me, doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep trying to help,” she said.

I hope that when I am in her situation, I can show half as much grace as she did this afternoon.

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Completely Meaningless Musings – Part 2

++Intolerant people should be made to sit in a room full of people that they hate for whatever reason (race, religion, sexual preference, etc.) and look those people in the eye while they spew their hatred, their ignorance, and their intolerance.

++I envy all of you who have children and are loving, active parents. What an adventure that must be to look at little people who are part you, part your spouse/significant other – and know that you have the responsibility of raising them to be decent human beings and not killing them when they use permanent marker on the new couch or decide to put the cat in the dishwasher for a cleaning.

++there is nothing in the world like the unconditional love of a dog – my dog Nibbles is the guaranteed best way to cheer up my day. She greets me at the door with her tail wagging and stays by my side the whole time I’m in the house. She wants to be with me all the time! What a great boost that is after a long day at work or an emotionally stressful situation. If any of you dogless people out there need a friend, you can borrow the Nib-ster any time.

++if anybody is looking for a healthy snack, you have GOT to try a banana with chunky peanut butter (not a lot cause even though it’s a protein, it still has all that fat in it) – the best part of my day is peanut butter and nanner time! Try it, you’ll like it. PS – you can always substitute apples or pears if you don’t like bananas

++my soon-to-be-ex-husband has the WORST taste in movies and television shows! He rented Larry the Cable Guy’s Witless Protection last night and swears it is the funniest movie ever! He also enjoys My Big Redneck Wedding (seriously, one episode filmed on the Eastern Shore featured the bride who lost her set of false teeth), Wife Swap (there is NO way those wackadoos exist in real life), and fishing shows. How did I end up married to this guy????? 🙂

++does “eat as many apples as you want” in the diet plan mean appleBEES? 🙂

++men are stupid grumpy SOB’s! sorry to my guy friends who can read this but I don’t EVER want to hear a man complain about women being moody – men are just as bad!!! I work with them, I volunteer with them, I live with one. Enough said.

++flower season is almost here, yay!! I’m hoping that I will have sold our house and have my own place by the time the snow melts so I can start planning and creating new flower and vegetable beds.

++the standard response of all Marylanders to snow makes me laugh – it is a hilarious mix of panic and awe. Everyone runs out to the stores as soon as snow is predicted to buy all the toilet paper, milk, and bread they can find. Then, once the snow is fallen, they either lock themselves in their houses for a week OR get out on the roads and drive like normal (70+ mph) and can’t understand why they end up in accidents. Makes me giggle.

++have I mentioned my wonderful god-kids? I have two sets – one in New York (Lizzie, Michael, and Justin) and one in Maryland (Janaya, Bryce, and Alex who are pictured with me below). They are the most wonderful kids

Annual Pumpkin Patch Trip - Fall 2008

 and their parents are remarkably tolerant of me spoiling them.

++”We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.” from Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, one of the best movies I have seen in a long time!! Family friendly, cute, but also very meaningful!

++my dog has a horseblanket and my friends, family, and neighbors mock me for it. But I can tell you it came in very handy during the last several snows – kept her warm and dry while I dragged her outside for walks in the lovely falling white stuff. And cuts WAY down on the lovely odor of wet dog in the house 🙂

++I shamefully admit to a complete addiction to the Twilight series (books and movies). I honestly don’t understand how parents let their tweenage children read those books! The entire last book is about marriage, sex, and motherhood – how on earth can a 13 year old girl really understand any of that?? And, honestly, how many kids can really “get” some of the emotions and human experiences that are so gripping? I don’t know, maybe kids are more sophisticated now than we ever were.

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