Subtle Glow

my stubborn will, is learning to bend...

Nightmares.

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 6:09 pm on Wednesday, March 30, 2005

First - can you have a panic attack in your sleep? Do you think that would trigger a nightmare, or the other way around?

I had trouble getting to sleep last night, I was so tired but every time I started to drift off my arm or my leg would jump and I would wake up. Once I fell asleep I had a nightmare -

I was in an old (building or house, not sure) but I was in the attic or top floor. I’ve never seen this place in real life but I’ve been here before in dreams, and it wasn’t good then either. When I realized where I was the fear started setting in. I could see that there was a wooden deck outside, and it was in perfect condition. It overlooked a body of calm, brilliant blue water. But turning around to face the house showed it was either in extreme disrepair or renovation - it wasn’t clear which. Outside, the sun was shining and the sky was clear. Inside it was dark, cold, and forbidding.

In the dream, I went into the bathroom and tried to turn on the light. The switch wouldn’t work. I flipped it on and off two or three times. I started to panic, and stepped through a doorway on the other side of the bathroom (to the shower?) and flipped that switch on and off and it wouldn’t work either. I panicked more, telling myself I have to find some light - I am afraid of the dark and I have to get out of here.

I left the bathroom and I could sense something coming up behind me, from overhead. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. When it finally passed over me, it jumped down and landed on the couch. It was a cat (but not my cat), and I was so pissed off at it for scaring me, thinking to myself that I KNEW it was going to be a cat. Stupid cat. 

As I shooed it away I woke up.

Once I was awake, I was out of breath, heart pounding, my jaw was clenched shut and my hands were numb. I felt like I had been holding my breath.

I tend to work things out in my sleep. Sometimes when I’m not sure what the answer is to a problem I will dream the answer.

When I was younger, I would sleepwalk and talk in my sleep - but usually only when I was under extreme stress (which was a lot back then). I have always been very perceptive and intuitive when it comes to the feelings of people around me - I could always sense the mood my mother was in when she came home from work at night, without even seeing her face. Sometimes those perceptions show up while I’m sleeping as well.

I don’t know what the little details of the dream mean, but overall it’s obvious to me that I’m struggling to understand or make sense of something, judging by the fumbling through the dark and frantically flipping the light switches, looking for light. I’m pretty sure I knew exactly what the “something” is, too. Yesterday’s news about Emma stuck with me, and it was on my mind when I went to sleep last night.

Crappy Morning so Far

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 6:08 pm on Wednesday, March 30, 2005

-Had a nightmare last night.
-Didn’t sleep well.
-Woke up late.
-Cable/Internet was not working.
-No time for breakfast.
-Spilled kiddo’s lunch on me and made a mess on the way to drop him off.
-Forgot my stupid badge.
-Nearly bit someone in the kitchen trying to get coffee (get your ASS out of the fridge - MOVE!)
-Can’t figure out how to set default font on these posts to something other than ugly.

Kind of at a loss here…

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 6:07 pm on Tuesday, March 29, 2005


Today brought terrible news.  A mother lost her child yesterday.  Her baby was not yet a year old.  Even more heartbreaking, baby Emma was a twin - and her brother Ethan passed just a few short months ago.

It is difficult to find the words to describe the words I am feeling.  Shocked, because when I heard she was in the hospital not long ago, I thought for sure she would be coming home soon - healthy.  Angry, because it is just too unfair for her mother to have gone through the pregnancy, and the birth - all without the support of the father.  Sad - because after all of that, to then have each baby taken from her, one at a time, after she had known the joy of holding them and caring for them seems so insanely unfair.  I never met  her, but I’ve known her since just before she found out she was pregnant.  Then, when she found she was having twins.  Complications put her on bedrest, and then finally the babies were here.

Now, they are gone and there is so much sadness left in their place.

I can’t imagine how people cope with the death of a child.  It seems especially cruel, to cope with the death of a child, while caring for another, only to have to go through it all again five months later. 

My heart goes out to anyone who has been affected by a loss like this.  For this mother in particular, I can’t begin to find the words to express my sorrow for your loss. 

Into the West
(right-click/save as)
Lay Down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey’s end

Sleep now
Dream-of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away.

Safe in my arms
You’re only sleeping

What can you see?
On the horizon.
Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea
A pale moon rises.
The ships have come
To carry you home.

And all will turn to silver glass.
A light on the water
All souls pass.

Hope fades
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.

Don’t say
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again.

And you’ll be here in my arms
Just sleeping.

What can you see?
On the horizon.
Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea
A pale moon rises.
The ships have come
To carry you home.

And all will turn to silver glass.
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the west.

BFF

Filed under: Sorta Daily, memories — Lily at 6:06 pm on Thursday, March 24, 2005

I hate that we are so far apart…

So, I spent the remainder of my evening on the phone with my best girlfriend, Sarah. We spent the whole of last night with a bottle or so of red wine and an earpiece, yakking late into the evening.

The whole prompt to this post generally had to do with her goading me after I reminded her of what she had to say after our last evening chat. Let me quote that for you here:

Ok…so we’ve covered that my hungover ass is still in my robe at home, but at least you made it to the office, shouldn’t you be working?

I’m never drinking a bottle and a half of wine with you-while on the phone… ever again!!!

Keep in mind that was said at about, a little over a week ago. I promptly responded, ” Uh huh… that’s what they alll say. But they ALWAYS come back for more.”< Just so you know - She just uncorked the second bottle of the night In case you were keeping score: Wine - 2, Sarah - 0.

*snork*

I love that girl. If I had a picture of her I'd post it...

Hang on, I think I have a few of us on her wedding day:



Ok, and here is the picture of her and I after I caught the GODDAMN BOUQUET at her wedding.

Except not so much caught, as she threw it and I didn’t want to have the “Wedding Bouquet Juju” so it ended up at my feet:



Yes, notice the sheer state of JOY she is in?? Can you really say it was a casual “toss” in my direction? I don’t know…

You can tell, I was so happy about it.


But like I said, I love that girl.

See? That’s me and her below, with THE bouquet in question. Can’t you feel the love:



She lives in Seattle, and I’m in San Diego.

We grew up in San Clemente together, during high school.

We were roommates while I went to college. She met and instantly disliked my son’s father. She claims that she wants to be the litmus test for any future relationships I have.

I was the maid of honor in her wedding 1.5 years ago. I cried more than she did as I stood by her side that day. Every single one was a tear of joy. Her husband is a fucking awesome guy, with a great sense of humor and a heart of gold.

We get along famously:

I have no doubt he will always be there to take good care of her.

She was so nervous about the wedding, I joked that if she didn’t marry him that I would. She practically stomped down the aisle, as if she thought I were serious. Well, not really stomped, but we laugh about it now.

Now I tell her if he ever leaves her that I’ll marry her myself. Hey - it’s *almost* legal here in California… hehe

I briefly dated her older brother while we were in high school. He took me to Winter Formal and Senior Prom. Not long after that my requisite six-month boredom set in and I quit calling him. It wasn’t personal, it was just they way I was.

Her younger brother was comatose after a tragic accident only four months ago. Today he is not only alive, but by all accounts, completely functional. You would never guess that three months ago he clung to life with the help of a dedicated team of experts, some really gnarly-ass machinery, round the clock prayers, and a thread of life that kept him with us. It’s fucking crazy, but cooler than anything I’ve ever seen or heard of in my whole life - the fact that he is almost back to his normal self. He’s got some healing left to do, but damned if he didn’t amaze the fuck out of me with his recovery.

Sarah - I love having you as the best friend a girl EVER had, and the sister I NEVER had. You’re family to me… Don’t ever change, girl!

My official thoughts about Carbs - and other random thoughts

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 5:54 pm on Wednesday, March 23, 2005

I know the whole carbohydrate debate is like a big rage these days, but I can no longer deny it: I cannot have carb-laden foods for breakfast.

Take, for example, this morning’s breakfast. I had a lemon-zucchini muffin and a non-fat toffee nut latte. Perfectly carb-a-licous, right?

11am rolls around and I’m in blood sugar nosedive HELL. Good thing I brought my lunch because I could have drank a sixer of beer and been safer to drive. Shaking, heart-pounding, ears-ringing - the whole bit. It’s amazing I actually weilded a knife and have no bleeding wounds to prove it. But I ate my protein-powered whole grain lunch. It was good. I felt better for awhile. Now, I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach, and have that sluggish feeling like I need to crawl under something cozy and sleep it off.

Seriously I need to stop thinking about food right about now. Someone just offered me half of a carne asada burrito and I nearly hurled. First, I don’t eat beef, and second why would I want your leftover half? Third and fourth - I don’t eat beans. ohhhhhh, nooooo.

Except thinking about braeburn apples makes it better. I have developed a new love - and it is definitely those apples. Must be all that fresh crispy appleness I think. Just the perfect amount of sweetness. Even better with a bit of cream cheese, or peanut butter.

It’s so unfair that it’s only Wednesday. It needs to be tomorrow already, and then it needs to be the weekend. I generally look forward to Wednesdays, and this week in particular I am, but the workday part of it needs to end, please. Wednesdays are cool because I get a tiny little break from the mom part of my life. I love my kiddo to bits, don’t get me wrong. But on days like this, when I just want to go home and end the day, I feel guility if I don’t make a nice, well-rounded dinner for him. So, Wednesdays are my days to be the slacker. He spends the night with his dad and I usually skip dinner in favor of a quick snack.

Anyway, tonight will definitely be a no dinner kind of night. Can’t wait to hit the door and slip into a nice hot shower, and then some cozy pajamas. ahhhhhh. Great way to say goodbye to my 20’s, right?

Random Things You Should Know

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 5:53 pm on Monday, March 21, 2005

1. Etiquette, and the laws of respecting personal space (not to mention common sense) dictate that in public seating areas such as eateries, movie theaters, open seating on Southwest flights, etc that you use the “skip a seat” method for choosing where to sit. This means, if you are looking for a seat you first choose one that is not directly NEXT to someone else already occupying a seat. You skip at least one seat. Only when there are no other open seats do you start filling the skipped seats.

Apparently it must be pointed out that the same decorum applies to public restroom stalls. Please do not pee directly next to me if there are 5 other open stalls and you could easily skip a stall. I know you have no idea that I get stage fright in that situation and it is only worsened when you are doing your business RIGHT NEXT TO ME. But that is why etiquette dictates such things, so that we can be polite without ever having to mention it. And don’t think that I am not scrutinzing your shoes so that when I see you later I can totally glare at you for pretty much just barging in on me.

2. Pets are NOT people. Despite how much you might love them. I know some people like to refer to them as your furbabies and you are their furmum or furpoppy but honestly, you OWN them. You can’t own people. Pets are not people. They don’t belong in your purse, either. They belong on the ground, and on a leash - one that you can use to keep them from jumping all over me. I don’t care how friendly they are - I am not that friendly anyway, and I don’t want to be rude but I don’t want to be friends WITH YOUR PET.

***OK, I had to throw in an edit here on this. Pets are not people, until they are sick or, *gulp* dying. Losing a pet is entirely different. It’s painful and at that point you go ahead and do whatever it is to get through it, because it can be just as bad as losing an actual person from your family. So, let me amend my rant - pets are not people, but they’re pretty darn close under these circumstances.

Uhm, they still don’t belong in your purse, though. ;)

End edit ****

3. Merging. *sigh* This is for those of you who take the College/Cannon road from Oceanside to Carlsbad. Is it really SO hard to understand the “you go then I go” method to merging traffic? Let me explain it slowly in short words so you’ll understand. YOU go, then I go. Or, on a good day, I go, then YOU go. However it works out - one car length doesn’t matter to me. And so it works, everyone gets a turn and we all move on with our drive.

For those of you merging, don’t try to skip ahead, asshole - it only pisses the rest of us off. Besides, that’s just asking for bad karma the next time you have to yeild to someone else now isn’t it? And for those of you in the lane being merged into - well we all agreed we won’t be taking cuts anymore so just let one little car in ahead of you. Can we all play nice together now? If that’s not enough go check out how they do it on the 78 West to 5 South interchange. They really understand the ‘You go I go’ way of merging. Maybe the College/Cannon drivers need a fucking lagoon to steer into as an alternative, as it seems to be effective motivation from what I can tell.

4. This one is for my girl Shawni. More than once this has happened to her, so: Don’t go ripping decals off people’s cars for fuck’s sake. Seriously. You have a hankering to rip shit go get a lip wax. I promise you it will kill that desire full stop. Leave other people’s shit alone. And go fuck yourself.

Oh, hell no. I need a drink.

Patient’s Rights

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 5:51 pm on Sunday, March 20, 2005

Years ago, I went to one of my annual doctor visits. I was determined that I wanted a different form of birth control. When it came time to talk about it, he dismissed my suggestions and told me to stay on the pill. I argued that I was constantly forgetting to take the pill - I wanted something I didn’t have to remember as often.

He actually waved his hand at me, closed his eyes and sighed as he said, “Just put them with your toothbrush, and every morning when you brush your teeth, take your pill. If I give you the shot you’ll forget to come in three months from now and in four months you’ll end up pregnant.”

I left the office dissatisfied. I felt like a child who had just been chastised to “just eat your vegetables. They’re not THAT bad!”

Eight months later I was pregnant.

—

I can’t remember if she smiled when she called my name.

I was nervous; prepared to… to what? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what to expect. But I was determined that I knew what I wanted.

The nurse went through her checklist: wieght, blood pressure, pulse. She chatted a bit as she reviewed the notes in my chart. I saw her eyes flicker on me for a split second, something about the pacing of her chatter changed. Her questions took a turn.

“You’re only 29,” she says cheerfully.

“For a bit longer.”  I’m looking forward to turning 30.  I knew that’s not what she was interested in.

“Any children?”

“Yes.  One”  I smile at her.

“Oh, only one?” She says, as her face falls, the question full of remorse and pity.  She must have 5 or 6 judging by the tone in her voice.  I’ll bet they’re mostly girls. 

“Yes, he’ll be seven this year.”  Seven. Wow. He’s got a sweetheart in his class, and he spends idle time wiggling his first loose tooth. But I don’t want to start over.

“Awww, you never got to have a girl, then.”  Bingo.  All girls - I knew it.

“No,” I tell her as I try to keep the annoyance from creeping into my voice. “If I did, and she was anything like me I would be in serious trouble.” I laugh; force a smile.

She laughs, but doesn’t ask any more questions.  “The doctor will be right in.”  Of course.

—-

The doctor isn’t nearly as chatty or inquisitive.

“You realize this is permanent?”

I stifle a groaning sigh. That’s kind of the point.

Instead I smile and just say “Yes.”

She hands me a phone number for the referral. I ask about the process, what to expect next. She describes the procedure in delicate, yet clinical terms. I clarify my question - How soon before the referral is processed? She tells me I can call today.

I try the phone in the parking garage before I leave but there is no cell service. Ten minutes later I have an appointment scheduled. I’m disappointed to find they are booked for more than two months.

Later that evening my best friend pleads with me.  “What if…?” she offers.

I am calm and resolute as I explain, and I can hear her heart breaking for me. Her heart breaks because she doesn’t understand. It has been ten years. I don’t want that way of life anymore. Ten years ago I did.  I’m choosing this, sterilization, whatever you want to call it.  I’m not giving up more children, I’ve decided one is enough for me.  There’s a difference.

A couple thoughts about work

Filed under: Sorta Daily, memories, former employer — Lily at 5:51 pm on Saturday, March 12, 2005

If it hadn’t been for Dooce, and the circumstances that surround the term “dooced,” I would have a hell of a lot more crap to put on this blog. But in the interest of keeping my job, and my good standing and all that, I try to keep the work bashing to a few good euphemisms and call it a day.

Today’s entry is no different. It does have a bit to do with work, but the point is more about me as a person rather than my job.

Maybe it’s unrealistic, but I really want to have a job that I can feel like I make a worthwhile contribution. At the end of the day, I don’t want to think “Well, that was total bullshit.” Seriously, if you have a 40-hour a week job (or more etc whatever including SAHM b/c we know it’s the most work for the least buck EVAH) you really don’t want to finish the day and think that you wasted that much of your life for total bullshit, right? Ok let’s go with that.

After a year or more of bouncing around with little to no direction, I finally found my way back to that groove.

Honestly, I work in the accounting department of my company, and I deal with all the technical software crap that no one else in accounting wants to deal with. And I like it. Not to mention that I’m damn good at it. I know it and so does my boss. I know far more detail than she’d ever care to know about how the system works and how it can accomodate the needs of the department, not to mention the interfacing with the other departments.

I have one small point that I feel is important here. It’s probably something I really should address with my boss, but until I find the way to do that with just the right amount of tact and diplomacy, I have to mention it here.

The small point is this (directed at my boss): When there is a division of the company that wants input from our department on system design… please do not volunteer YOURSELF to be on the team. Learn to let go a bit and give that responsibility to ME. Between your direction on what you’d like to see, and my knowledge of how the system functions, I really am the person more suited for filling that spot in the meeting. I promise.

Also - I mean, while we’re on the subject - please stop referring to me and including me in the description that identifies my OLD position. You know - the one that I used to fill before I went and proposed my NEW position, which you accepted, and took on those responsibilities. Yes, I still fill some of that role, but please remember it’s really a favor to you until one of your managers can replace that position. Just so you know - I HATE that you still refer to me as part of that team. Because my contribution to that team is bullshit. I don’t know if you know, but I am basically plugging numbers into spreadsheets for them. That’s all.

Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. I’ll totally bring it up in our next individual weekly meeting. Because I’m not one to just keep it to myself and stew over it until I go nuts. It might seem like a small thing to you, but I’m telling you - the proof is in the pudding. Which means I’m all about the details. See - that’s why there is that little word “ANAL” right there in my title. My title of SYSTEMS ANALYST.

Not Staff Accountant. I’m just saying.

It’s a matter of rotation

Filed under: Sorta Daily — Lily at 5:48 pm on Thursday, March 3, 2005

I know you’re dying to hear what sort of embarrassing moment I might be willing to share. So I’ll go ahead. Although, did you not happen to catch my disaster post? I’d say that’s an 8 on a scale of 1 to 5 of embarrassment. PS - I hate the word embarrass. Too many consonants. I mean, what an uppity word that demands TWO Rs AND two Ss. What-ever.

I love to hear other people’s embarrassing stories. Mostly because I never believe they are going to be THAT embarrassing. Who shares the stories about themselves that still make them turn red and cringe? So it’s always fun when you get to the end of the story and you think - FUCK. I’m so glad that didn’t happen to me. Seriously, how does this person leave the house every day, knowing what happened to them and that other people who are still alive are out there and those people know it, too?

Ok, I’ll just say right now - any story about me and farting and other people present - pretty much that is what tops the list of my embarrassing stories. I can think of two (no, wait make it three) that top my list of all time embarrassments. But those are so common - hell just about everyone has had one slip at THE most inopportune moments, right? So I’m not even going to take the easy way out and share one of those. It happens, so move along.

This one involves a trampoline. One of my girlfriends in high school had a trampoline in her back yard. I think we mostly used it to sit on and pass a bong around in a circle, but occasionally we would jump on it. So, I was at her house once, with a guy I was dating at the time. I was like, Hey - let’s go on the trampoline. Check it out, want me to do a flip?

So I’m jumping, and he’s watching. I get enough bounce going to do my flip. Basically, the flip is all about velocity. If you can get your body to rotate quickly enough, you can flip yourself all the way over.

Just, you know, be careful with that velocity concept. I flipped all the way over, no problem. There was no mid-flip splat on the trampoline involving a neck brace and a ride to the nearest trauma center. Oh no.

There was, however, an extreme OVER rotation, which basically set my body at a prime angle for a complete missle launch all the way OFF the trampoline and face first into the ground. It wasn’t until I hit the trampoline that I realized there was something very wrong. I’m lucky I didn’t lose teeth, seriously. I can tell you I am positive I would have lost at least the top front four, had I landed on anything but grass. That’s just judging by the amount of fucking grass and dirt STUCK IN MY TEETH after my landing.

Uh, yeah. You should have seen it. I had actual clumps of grass and weeds wedged into my teeth. Talk about eating it. Dude. I so ate it on the landing. Literally.

So, yes, that is one of my embarassing stories. When I tell it today, my face turns bright red. Although it’s hard to tell if it’s because I’m embarrassed or because I’m laughing so damn hard picturing the whole thing.

Although, in an effort to redeem my coolness factor I should mention that I recovered from that incident (with the help of a fuckload of dental floss) and went on to sing backup in a local punk band. Ok, not so much sing, as provide the necessary growling sound they were looking for. And not so much with the band as went and hung out and got drunk at band practice with them, when I was supposed to be studying at the library. Ah, to be 15 again!