Posts in category BitchLog

I’m trying, Universe, but some days it’s hard

July 12, 2015 Written by Lisa

Dear Certain People:

Stop talking AT me! Seriously. Jeebus! Why don’t people have conversations anymore? Well, why don’t the people with whom I share my world have conversations? All I get are monologues. And I’m done. I really am.

I talk a lot. I always have (if you know me). But I’m self-aware enough that I do try to ask about the other person, what’s going on with them and really listen.

So when I go out and get talked AT by several people, it’s like a verbal slap in the face to me. One person – ONE PERSON – of SEVEN asked me about my trip. ONE. But I sure heard all about everyone else’s stuff in minute detail.

everyone-shut-the-fuck-up I just cannot. I can’t. It’s all I could do NOT to scream “Shut the fuck up! SHUT UP!”

Not really sure what to do with this. Being polite and talked at sucks. And it’s not even so much the ‘talking at’ part as the underlying “I don’t care about you enough to ask what’s going on.” part.

That’s really most of the issue.

When I was younger, I remember asking a couple of my friends what they wanted to be when they grew up. They both told me and then ….. radio silence. No one asked me back. Why I remember that so clearly, I don’t know, but it bothered me then and it bothers me now. (Yes, I know. Kids are notoriously self-centered. Still.)

I know most people don’t know what the hell I do with Practically Intuitive and don’t overly care. That’s fine. I get it. But a genuine ‘how are you?’ would be nice.

WHY AM I SO OBSESSED with this???

It just pinged my heart so much that I cried on the way home. I felt invisible. I felt ignored. I felt …. heartbroken.

The other day Duty and I went to dinner and at the table next to us was a family. Apparently, the grandparents of this family stopped by unexpectedly and boy, the three young girls at that table were SO HAPPY to see them. (It was sweet to see.)

It reminded me of how Lauren and I were always so happy to see each other and had to sit next to each other at the table. Maybe that’s a one-shot deal and I’ll never have that again but that doesn’t stop me from wishing someone saw me in that way (or in ANY way!) rather than a limp ‘hi’ and then act like I’m not even there.

Maybe all this serves to remind me that some people in my life will NEVER care overly about anything beyond themselves. Maybe I should stop expecting to be seen in that way and just accept this. Or tolerate it.

It still hurts this tender heart, though.

And I will always ask how someone is and truly want to know.

Under the bridge downtown is where I drew some blood

June 15, 2015 Written by Lisa

Every morning when I awake, the Universe turns the radio station in my head up a bit louder so I can hear what’s playing. Today it was “Under the Bridge” by Red Hot Chili Peppers.

This song is reminiscent of a really confusing time in my life. Kids, don’t get mixed up with someone who is borderline personality disordered if you can help it. It will only make you crazy and sad. There is just no filling that hole in their life. No matter how hard you try, what you do or who you are. It’s not your damn hole to fill and trying to do it feels wrong and brings heartache.

So, there’s that.

Further ponderings on why this little girl chooses those who cannot give her back what she gives and how she isn’t even sure she really even wants that because it would scare the shit out of her.

Now, onto other mundane items

(Gal, look away for the first two mundanities. They involve FB.)

I am not at all into food porn. Jesus. Some days my FB newsfeed is awash in pictures of food. Why is that a thing? I. do. not. care. what. you’re. eating.

And speaking of stupid shit – people, try to be at least a little bit interesting on your statuses. “It’s vacation!” – why should I care? Where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you with? Maybe? Perhaps you can also post pictures of your food while you’re there, eh? (/snark)

Zippy cat is an ass. I imagine he will chill out in about 30 years or so. Currently, though, he’s an ass. (It is fun to watch him chase the laser pointer, I gotta say.)

Duty and Neighbor Greg took the new (to us) boat out yesterday for its virgin run and it did well. Duty, however, did not. It was very hot out, he wasn’t hydrated enough and almost passed out. I am not the only chubber in this family – he has gained and kept on a lot of weight and it really affects him when he can’t move around the way he’s used to. Also, dehydration really takes him down.

We both need to do something stat about this issue and we talk circles around it as we sit on the couch and wish for a healthier body. We are lazy asses, through and through. That’s my influence on him, alas. When we met, he was into a lot more physical things. Now, he sits on the couch and watches TV.

I’m not criticizing him – far from it. I recognize that for whatever reason, my energy seems to be what makes the house go (or not). Despite his protestations to the contrary and his bluster about things, he follows my lead. And when I’m leading the way to an ass connected to a couch, he follows.

I want us both to be around for a while and feel like I can’t ignore this much longer (although I’m doing a good job of trying). Seeing him lying on the kitchen floor, red-faced and sweating is a good wake up call.

Anyway, I’d write more but you don’t want to hear my whining. Hell, *I* don’t want to hear it but, like radio station WWTF that plays in my head, I can’t ignore it. (If only I could.)

Blah blah blah

Don’t rain on my parade!

March 31, 2015 Written by Lisa

What is it with husbands who like to be doomsayers? Both pal Christine and I are feeling the rain big time.

Sharing my dream, however nascent it may be, with Duty about the creative space (like what B-Hive in Bridgeport is doing) and man, he shot my ass down. Well, it seemed that way to me, anyway.

And it kind of sucked. It hurt, to be honest.

What I know to be true

He’s not a dreamer, he’s a pragmatist. I like that about him, mostly. It’s who he is.

I’m a tiny bit of a dreamer, a ‘what if?’ kind of chick. Lots of my what-ifs don’t come close to fruition but I do like to think about things and what could be. I lean into the future, he remains firmly planted in the now.

He says I want a ‘yes-man’ to agree with joy to all my fanciful dreams. That’s not true at all. If things aren’t do-able for whatever reason, I’m willing to hear that. My coaches tell me how it is all the time and I count on them for it.

Maybe he doesn’t want me to be disappointed so small showers now avoid an avalanche of pain later? I dunno. But he spent some time telling me the 40 things I need to do in my business and why am I going off on this other tangent?

He says “You want to work from home so you don’t have to talk to people and then you want to create a space where you’ll be spending a lot of time with them. That makes no sense.”

Here’s the thing: I don’t like engaging with large groups of people or having a packed schedule. That is true in almost every case. What else is true is that working from home is isolating and lonely. Even for a chick who digs silence, it’s a bit much.

Having a space filled with glitter and fun people who are doing similar work feels light to me. It calls to me loudly. Is it feasible? Hell if I know. Does it intrigue me enough to move forward and look at spaces? Sure it does and why not? What is the harm?

I mentioned the 3rd leg of that triangle and I think that’s beginning to show up.

What kind of environment DOES feed me? It’s not an office one, that’s for damn sure. And it’s not all day, every day alone with two dogs.

I’m open to a new space where I can feel expansive and joyful and in that energy, work on/in my business. I don’t know what that looks like yet. But it would be nice if the person I share my life with would hold that vision with me instead of making me seek out other support for it.

Thankfully, Christine (who, as I said, is also getting an ENORMOUS amount of push-back on anything she tries to do to move forward with her work) and I are open and willing to see what the Universe shows us. Without judgment, without expectation.

Perhaps that’s the lesson – release the judgment around Duty’s (perceived) lack of support and just go forward with whatever is in my heart, knowing I have others to hold that vision with me.

Blah blah blah

A letter to myself

June 17, 2014 Written by Lisa

Dear Lisa,

Let’s have a chat about a few things, shall we?

First: stop trolling FB pages of people who annoy you JUST so you can roll your eyes at their manic shenanigans.

You know they’re manic. You know they post shit like it was their day job and YOU KNOW they bounce off the walls in their own head.

Stop going there and:
(a) look at why you do it (I like eye rolling and feeling superior)
(b) pretty much the feeling superior thing
(c) it’s like reading a novel where a lot of the pages are torn out and I’m left wondering what the author is talking about half the time but I’m still trying to piece it all together.

It feels like I’m inside the manic energy and makes me glad to once again retreat to the (relative) peacefulness inside my head.

Second: Be glad you’re old enough to know that passive-aggressive shit is stupid.

Impulse control is much easier at 53. I can think about it in my head, I might even rant about it in my journal but I don’t do it in real life (much). It’s part of being human. Still, I think about it *A LOT*.

Third: If you are offered the path of returning to Ye Olde Place of Employ because the timing doesn’t work out, suck it up and go. There are lessons either way and it will all work out for the highest good. Looking at it like you’re going to prison doesn’t serve you, your own business or the promise you made to Duty to step up.

(Lisa’s response: I know. I know. I keep hoping Divine Intervention will save me here and I’ve clearly laid out my intention to the Universe and said “Make it so.” and if so isn’t made, well, that’s not the path for my highest good.)

Fourth: Quit with the farting around. Just quit it. Why are you dragging your feet? You better look at this because it’s not doing you any favors. There are at least five things you KNOW you have to do now – just fucking get them done! This is a pattern for you from way back. What is the benefit of not doing them? Nothing. Just do it. Dammit.

This visit inside my head is brought to you courtesy of my Guide team who wanted me to get all this written out so I see what’s going on in black and white. Aren’t you glad you came along?

Duty update: Two phone interviews ahead + job fair today. He’s networking his ass off (along with applying to about 30 different jobs) so I have faith that it will pan out for him in one way or t’other. As for me and YoPoE: I have a meeting on Friday with the Complex Director for reasons I know not. It’s off-site, too, so something is afoot. (Yes, I’m secretly hoping for a job offer for Duty THIS WEEK so I can say a polite ‘no thank you’ to any offer. There’s always hope, y’all. Always hope.)

Well, that was unexpected!

June 1, 2014 Written by Lisa

So, Thursday I woke up with this weird tingly numbness on the left side of my face. Almost like novocaine was wearing off. Thinking I slept wrong or something, I ignored it. (As I often do with physical stuff because eww.)

When it didn’t magically go away, I looked it up online. Yeah. Don’t do that, kids. No good will come of it. I diagnosed myself with a small stroke, possible brain cancer, and Bell’s palsy. Back to ignoring.

11am came and I decided that perhaps this was a signal I should take more seriously and called the doctor’s office. They told me that since I hadn’t gotten the bloodwork done when it was requested (August 2013!), they didn’t have anything to go on and recommended that I go to the ER.

I tried (in vain, I might add) to talk them out of that, recalling the abject horror I experience every time I’ve had to go to the ER with Duty.

There are people vomiting everywhere! In the lobby (go your ass into the bathroom if you know that’s a possibility) and in the bays inside the ER itself (okay, can’t argue with that but still, gross!).

This little clairaudient with super sonic hearing cannot abide the sounds of barfing. It makes me want to flee and when you’re the patient, fleeing is not encouraged.

Fine, I’ll go to the ER then. Dammit. Call Duty and ask him to come home from work to take me. (I hate asking for things.) Of course, he does. We go this time to an ER recently built on this side of the bridge rather than trek back into Annapolis. It’s a calm, serene place where there’s (amazingly enough!) no one in the waiting room (therefore, no one barfing) and I am taken inside quickly.

Nurses shuffle around taking blood pressure, temps and all other ER things. Duty and I laugh about how this is weird – usually he’s the one on the bed and I’m sitting on a chair (trying not to hear aforementioned barfing sounds).

Finally (after a 30 minute wait), the nice doctor comes in, hears my story of weird facial numbness, mentions it could be a TIA (A transient ischemic attack (TIA) is an event, sometimes called a mini-stroke, with stroke symptoms that last less than 24 hours before disappearing.)

Farts.

That is not good.

Numbness has worn off by this time (also an indicator of a TIA) and we are released from the hospital with an appointment to see my regular doctor the next day for more tests and a referral for the lovely MRI.

As an aside: Don’t post illness stuff on Facebook, lest you get a zillion messages from people worried you are dying. Even when you try to add humor, it just makes it worse. I won’t be doing this again, ever. If you love me, you’ll know I’ve shuffled off when you hear it from Duty. (Or if you don’t love me and just read Snarkypants for shits and giggles, when I never post here again.)

Long story short(er): Doc is pretty sure it’s the TIA thing and sets me up with MRI and some carotid artery ultrasounds, bloodwork and all kinds of medical shit I really am not excited about. But, better than being paralyzed on one side of my body with foggy brain issues as that would seriously impact the work I am here to do in this lifetime and am only now getting around to doing.

No further symptoms have shown up and I feel okay.

Can I say that this is a huge pisser? After the amazing high of coming back from Utah, making strides in my PI work, feeling all forceful and directed for the almost first time in my damn life, then this happens?

Fuckety.

I am, however, not a dumbass and am taking this as a sign to pay a-bloody-ttention to my damn body.

Spoke with my favorite medical intuitive and he’s recommended a few things which, of course, I am doing. He didn’t see a cause for huge alarm and I need to let him know what the MRI and other scans/bloodwork find.

Onward. At least the Angels took good care of me, ensuring the ER had no random barfing incidents. For that (and so many other things) I am profoundly grateful.

(Thanks to Gorky, Gal, Julie and Jennifer for sending love, support and sweetness!)