Back from H*ll (sort of) and a Meme

Hi. And sorry. I have been struggling this last week. The brick wall became almost more than I could handle, my belief in my abilities faded and I let the words of those who really have no idea bother me...far too much. In a momentary lapse, I begged for a little karma to bite them in their butts. But, I would not wish this hell on anyone, in reality. In fact, I cannot handle it most minutes myself. But, I am okay. I am. I am. I am still getting up and doing things and being something. Only the missing him is killing off little bits of me that used to care about certain things. And that does bother me.

I know that the paragraph above makes hardly any sense. But, don't worry. It doesn't make sense to me either. Suffice to say, I am still alive. I am just having trouble dealing.

Donna, this Donna, tagged me for a meme. So that is what I will do for right now. Thank you Donna, for tagging me.

5 Things about me:

1. Even after living the entirety of my life in the frozen North (with the exception of a few years in the Carolinas), I cannot stand cold weather.

2. I have high (think astronomically, wtf high) blood pressure and a heart arrythmia which I control daily with Toprol, Tambocor and Diovan. It used to scare me. It doesn't anymore.

3. In the 7th grade 8 of my poems were published and my father went on to purchase about 20 of the books. I think 14 of them are still banded together in a box somwhere.

4. My husband carried a picture of me when I was 10 around in his wallet, which he would show to people saying, "This is my wife." He was charmingly crazy like that, only I can't think about him or us right now because it would kill me.

5. This is really not a "thing" about me but my daughter was a participant in the 2002 National Spelling Bee in Washington D.C. It was the most surreal moment of our lives.

and one for good measure:

I suffer from Rheumatoid Arthritis, only I don't like people to know that or about my heart. It is an immune system disease that will eventually mess with my hands and feet and knees and any other joint you can think of. Only I don't wallow in it because, really, what can you do? I have read the blogs and posts of others who have said they suffer from this only a lot of it doesn't make sense. There are radical treatments for this disease, and a lot of them help. Remicaide is one. One does not catch it from an old injury. The pressure of using a cane or crutches is too much on my hands so I don't use them and when I read of people who rely on them it makes me wonder. At the end of the day I end up just feeling very sad for those who define themselves in that manner. Anyway RA isn't who I am, it's just a thing. Now that you know this, please throw it away and don't let it define me for you.


I am throwing in some pictures because I haven't done that of late. Nicole with hellcat...er...Licorice, my father's cat. She looks all cute and kittenish-y there, but she's not and she would hurt you if she wanted to.



And James with the new "do" that a friend gave him. He actually thought it looked "cool". I am dating myself here because I thought he looked quite a bit like a cross between John Taylor of Duran2 and George Michael, The Wham! years. He was going to do his hair that way the next morning...and then he got his wits back.