Caterwauling

After about eleventy billion inquiries for old posts, songs, quotes, recipes and incarnations of “Where the hell are you?” I think it would take less effort to just blog already than answer my e-mail! 😉

I’m back. I don’t know for how long, because I’ve got to tell you, I’ve loved living my life in obscurity. I feel safer, stronger, more connected to the real-live humans in my world. I’ve been trying to catch up at work and achieve some sort of balance between it and everything else. But then again, my colleagues are so much more than that — they’re friends — and I’ll take family wherever I can get it.

I miss my grandfather so much. When you have so much love in your life and it’s suddenly, cruelly ripped from you by others’ incompetence, it renders you immobile sometimes. It’s been a horrible season for so many people I know — I can count no fewer than six deaths, three lawsuits, two injuries, one lost job and a fire, too. And it’s only good people who are getting screwed.

You never hear about one of those horrible events and say, “They deserved it — they’re terrible people.” It’s always like a eulogy after something happens — “God, they always helped others and brought sunshine and sweetness to every day. How tragic.” It almost makes you respect (I said “almost”) those who just go around spreading ill will — they’re not happy, but the universe doesn’t seem to fuck with them in the short-term.

However, long-term, Karma pulls on the steel-toed shitkickers. So my advice is to keep, or rediscover, your goodness — would you rather they say “how sad” when you have something bad happen to you or “good riddance”?

In any event, I promise I’m in a better mood than today’s entry seems to portray. 😉 I’m looking forward to a New Year’s Eve soiree and some traveling in the early part of the year and maybe, just maybe, cornering Happiness and saying, “You! Stay!” and then using the fuzzy handcuffs chaning it to the headboard guest room and breaking bread with it as often as possible.

I’ve disabled comments on the blog and I’m going to start password-protecting entries at my leisure. I want to let you into my life, if you want to be in it, but understand that I’m going to be more careful about it going forward. I understand this blog platform thingy lets users register, so if you want to get exclusive crap content, be my guest and I’ll hook ya up. 😉

Editor’s note: You didn’t actually think I could stay away for long, could you now?

I’ve always known so many people who break their arms to pat themselves on the back. Shit, they’d break off YOUR arm to pat themselves, too.

I understand it’s a tenet of the Christian faith — not to mention, it’s a family value of mine — to just do for others. Whether they know the kindness came from you or, hell, that it was done at all. Just knowing you helped someone is reward enough. It’s something you just do, then forget as soon as possible. There are no scorecards, no paying back favors (within reason, of course, because there’s always one asswipe in the crowd who will bleed you dry just as long as you keep serving them) — heck, no waiting to be asked.

I am surrounded by those types of people now.

And I wish I could tell them that I know about their good deeds — I don’t know how to thank people who would never admit to being so good to me even if I asked them, because they’d deny it. But I want to let them know that they made my holiday season bright.

It makes me happy to know that I was worthy of such kindness. It not only restores my faith in humanity, but also my faith in me. I am the type of person to do small, random things with nary a second thought about them. And for the first time in my life, I’ve met people just like my family.

And with my (biological) family so small now, I’m thrilled to count so many friends as so much more than that. It makes me want to pay it forward next time around, because the truly good people in this world not only don’t want/need a thank-you, but they expect that you’ll carry on their legacy and perpetuate it instead of paying it back.

But if ever they should need a hand, I hope I’m the first one to notice … and to provide.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to become coldhearted and miserable — it can be an easy trap to fall into, what with all the hardships everyday life brings. But my beloved grandfather who is no longer with us (goddamned VA — they practically admitted to neglecting him. His death was so senseless and untimely, and I wish nothing more than for his so-called caregivers there to suffer an equally cruel and painful demise) would never want for me to become anything other than he was — a saint, in my estimation. Someone who smiled through the pain and brought joy at every opportunity. Someone grateful for all things big and small, who cannot be remembered as anything but just a lovely, lovely human being whose generosity and love is unparalleled.

Not only am I glad no one has jeopardized the goodness he instilled in me, but I know that if there is any peace he can achieve where he is now (as I worry that he wasn’t ready to leave us and that he resisted the white light), it’s that my friends have treated me the way he would have, were he still here.

So thank you, my Secret Santas, most of all for making my grandfather proud and honoring his memory in the best way anyone could. 🙂

“This world’s gone crazy
And it’s hard to believe that tomorrow
Will be better than today.
Believe it anyway.”

— Martina McBride, “Anyway”

There’s a hole in my early mornings and/or late evenings that blogging used to fill. I looked so forward to sharing my escapades, the lessons I learned, the kindesses I received on a given day. And they don’t stop just because I’ve kicked up my feet and taken a break.

Among the hundreds of visits and dozens of communications from those kind souls who actually know how to get hold of me, I wanted to say I’m fine, theoretically. I’m tired and sad but I’m seeing little miracles coming to me, helping me to get through. I’m seeing the value of friendship in ways I never dreamed possible.

My heart has been deflated, but it’s starting to hold a little bit of happiness and anticipation again. My friends have been doing yeoman’s work in patching the holes with love, and in that, I can hold on to the hope that builds upon it.

That’s the thing with letting toxic people into your circle — they smoke out the goodness (read: the better things) that others can bring. They don’t want you to have a moment of happiness — they want to deprive you of oxygen and make you dependent upon them. And when you walk away, you wish you hadn’t wasted so much time on what little you had accepted as happiness.

“Sometimes all we can do
Is stand up tall
When they’re standing in line
Just to watch us fall.”

— Sugarland, “These are the Days”

And then when they come back to haunt you (through a shitty message pretending to be my recently deceased grandfather supposedly burning in hell because I wasn’t able to save him. Psychotic prick. Amid all your other antics like impersonation with intent to lose me another job, that was low even for you) and then threaten you, well, enough. I have to take my power back.

It was always my own power, but I had to assert it. If taking down the blog means I don’t have to see your spoofed IP addresses or those of your friends if you actually had any that you didn’t bully into being nice to you because they see what you do to those who dare to walk away, well, fuck it. I’m happy to go offline. And this comes not a moment too soon.

Bear in mind, you did not take away my blog. You didn’t discontinue my access to what has always been a happy place for me. I’ve just got better things to do right now than to give you access to my heart and my thoughts — access that I clearly denied, time and again, specifically to you, for reasons too plentiful and too embarrassing to list here.

I will continue to pray for your soul. I will hope that you don’t hurt anyone else the way you’ve tried to damage me. I will always wish that you don’t harm others or yourself any more. You were given a brilliant mind and abilities beyond what normal people can only dream of. Use them productively and make the world a better place. I have faith that one day, you will. I know you want to be loved, not feared and loathed. But only you have the power to make that happen, and I hope you do.

AND NOW, THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

On to better subjects, I have a little Christmas tree in my office, provided by “Mrs. Claus,” according to one of my boys who served as her elf, so he says. And I walked in Monday to find a pile of presents and baked goods under the little glass table on which it sits. I cried for a half-hour, as I wasn’t planning on having any Christmas and they made sure I did. A few others have followed suit, and I not only do I have the prettiest office around, but also the one with the most love.

My one dear, dear friend asked what she could do to give my mom and me some holiday joy. Which, let’s face it, is damn near impossible but it takes a real friend to want to try. And I remembered when I was unemployed two years ago with not two dimes to rub together. She handed me gas money and said I was not to spend the holiday alone — I needed to go see my family. And how was I to know that it would be one of my grandfather’s last holidays on this earth? What if I had missed it?

That’s a true friend — one who doesn’t want you to miss out on life’s special moments because it doesn’t feel right to celebrate when you’re just plain broken. That’s the last thing we need — more regrets.

I don’t want any more regrets. I need my mom’s and my safety and peace of mind to be the greatest gift of all this year. We’ve suffered enough. Hence, this is the last hurrah for this blog for now.

For those of you who are the types of normal, kind, wonderful people who have brought me so much joy at being an occupant of the blogosphere, feel free to keep in touch with me at adrasteia @ this domain.

Have a safe and happy holiday to all, even those who don’t deserve my goodwill but especially those who do. Every moment brings us closer to where we’re supposed to be, and no matter how hard things are or how much you might be hurting and praying for that year to click over to the next, you still have the capability of spreading magic to those whose hearts are heavier than yours.

You are loved, needed and wanted — someone may be standing right next to you, wishing they could reach out their arms to you and hold you close to them. Don’t waste another moment of your life immersed in situations that hurt you while letting ones that could lift your heart float by unacknowledged. Who knows what could happen if you hugged them back. …

“Well, it feels like we’re living from pay check to check
And we wake up wondering what might happen next
Yeah, sometimes it feels like we won’t make it through
But the hard times pass
Like the good ones do
Baby wrap your fingers and
Hold on tight
I’ll be right here beside you tonight
Baby climb up here
Watch the city glow
Let’s make a wish on the fireworks below
We’re making moments that we won’t forget
And feeling ones that haven’t happened yet.”

I keep a note on my bulletin board at work. My mom had cut it off of one of my grandfather’s cups from Starbucks — it’s back from when they were printing inspirational quotes for you to carry with you through your day.

The Way I See it #141

“I used to feel so alone in the city. All those gazillions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person? I was very stumped by this for many years. And then I realized, you just say, ‘Hi.’ They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word.”

Mom had written a personal note to me on the back of it, and only I know what it means. And receiving it in the mail on the day that I got it changed my whole outlook on the world.

You know, when you’re having deep conversations with your friends, oftentimes the question will come up about what your biggest regret is. And while I love to say that I have no real regrets because I wouldn’t have ended up where I am today, I do have one regret. A big one.

Picture it, Sicily 1912 Pittsburgh 1993. On the bridge that connected two buildings at my college. Answering someone who wanted my attention. Had I just walked away, my life would be completely different. Better, probably. Filled with less pity and aggravation, absolutely. Oh, to rewind my life 13 years. …

But I can’t and, quite honestly, I wouldn’t want to. Because I wouldn’t be the hardass, no-bullshit broad I am today without every painful step that got me here. I stand tall when others would fall apart into a million little pieces. I am PROUD of myself for that.

And so, the quote above means the world to me. Because I have gotten into the habit of hiding, of taking that song lyric by The Fray to new extents (“He smiles politely back at you / You stare politely right on through”). I have tried so hard to avoid getting close to people during the last few years — I’ve been burned mightily by giving away trust far too easily.

And today? The good guys win — I win. I take back my power and say enough. I smile back at the strangers who try to catch my eye. I will finally give that poor boy my phone number. I will finally go up to the one who makes me want to hope and dream again and say this is it, take it or leave it. I will not spend another moment feeling anything less than fantastic.

And I won’t be crushed if I don’t hear the answer I am hoping for. Because there will always be another stranger who’s hoping that if he smiles at me, I will smile back. And that’s where it all starts, really … and we never truly run out of beginnings if we’re always open to having new, better memories take the place of the ones we can’t leave behind soon enough. …

So, “Hi.”

Wednesdays aren’t necessarily my favorite day at Ye Humble Employment Establishment. They’re not bad, but if I have to choose which day never goes according to plan, this has got to be it.

I’ve oft joked that I’d rather have a root canal than deal with my Wednesdays. And today, after visiting my new dentist and him promptly sending me across town with an X-ray and a referral to visit ANOTHER dentist, well, I got my wish — A FUCKING ROOT CANAL!!!

My second dentist (who was HAWTTT!!!!) had said how most people would rather be at work than seeing him. I said nope, not me — I’ve always posited that I’d rather be root-canalled than do my Wednesday work, and it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. And guess what? The dental work HURT LESS! HAH!

Of course, now trying to catch up on my work after my oral adventure is a pain in the ass, but trust me, I’ve had worse days! 😉

(And no, D., this dentist wouldn’t let me be on top. Although visions of it kept me from screaming in my not-altogether-numbed state!)

You know you work with truly selfless, wonderful men when you declare that you are looking for something to hang yourself with and, without thinking, one goes to take off his tie to hand it to you. (To his credit, he realized after the fact what my intentions were and refused to help. Damn!) But doesn’t that say to you that your boys will do anything to help you, if only you just ask? 😉

In other news, I have a dentist’s appointment today. Finally! I had written to cancel the appointment that the 1-800-Dentist people had set up, given that it wasn’t till the end of the week. Stupid me, I had ASSUMED the hotline people had conveyed to them that I was in so much pain, I could barely speak. Hah. Turns out, the original dentist contacted me back to say that they were very sorry to learn that I was in pain — they would NEVER have made me wait if they had known that. Further, they extended an invitation to get my ass over there ASAP for immediate treatment.

Note to the wise: Don’t call a hotline under the auspices of them actually helping you. I’d gone on the 1-800-Dentist Web site, and it had said if this is an emergency, call this number. But all they did was leave a fucking message somewhere for me and clearly didn’t convey the reason WHY I was looking for a dentist on that particular Sunday. Sheesh. And here I was thinking what an asshole the dentist must be to treat an emergency so carelessly. I’d been so pissed off that I just started calling all my colleagues’ dentists till I found the one with the closest appointment time. Which I could/should have just done in the first place! Gah!

So I finally got to plowing through some of the eleventy billion blog entries I missed in my nearly two-month absence from my routine, and one day I might actually answer all the kind e-mails that so many of you floated my way during my time of loss. I’ve read them all; I just don’t know what to say other than thank you for being here for me.

I have one e-mail I need to answer, one from the boy I met the day I came back from San Francisco in October and haven’t seen since. He’s left the door open for me, when I’m ready to actually have a conversation. I’m just so afraid I might never be able to have two calm, non-drama-filled moments to rub together again.

I have loads of photos to upload from my stay in Vegas, but Mom had asked me to take photos of my grandfather at his viewing. Meaning, I can’t upload without seeing them, so I don’t touch that camera anymore. I don’t want to see him like that, although him sort-of at peace beats the torture I remember the hospital leaving him in.

From my November trip to Las Vegas, I’d brought home a special souvenir for my grandfather. But I never got to give it to him. Mom and I were actually collecting all kind of things for him, to make the house cozy and cute for his arrival back home. And now, there’s not even a house anymore — that goes away within mere weeks.

I’m trying to figure out how to move without breaking my lease. I am trying to find out if my building has any openings, as I do not want to step outside of the city (i.e., back to Virginia or, god forbid, Maryland), nor do I want to incur any additional moving fees (i.e., lease-breaking issues). I’m exhausted just thinking about the drama to come!

I made three dentists’ appointments for this week. I canceled the one where the people seemed most competent/friendly, not to mention they asked the right questions and were so very helpful. It turned out that they weren’t in my dental plan’s network, so I went with one that the worthless-in-an-emergency 1-800-Dentist found for me. I didn’t have a great feeling about it, but seriously, hitting myself in the jaw with a sledgehammer at this point would be a viable alternative to the current pain. (Hitting someone else would feel better, however, as long as I get to pick the victim!)

I realized, though, in canceling what I viewed as the better care, I am just like my grandfather. I remember him since the time I was young coming home from hospital and/or doctor’s visits to the fuckheads at the VA Hospital, chagrined and disappointed and downright disgusted by the lack of care and the fact that his issues always went unaddressed.

I had asked him many times why he went there when they didn’t treat him well. “It’s free, Punkin’,” he would say to me. He didn’t want to put the family in debt over getting “real” medical care, so he took their shoddy excuse of care without a word of complaint.

So when I feel guilt (and believe me I do) that we didn’t rescue him from the VA before they killed him, I have to remind myself that a lifetime of poor care culminated the only way it could, I guess. They fucked him up for life throughout the past half-century, they left every issue untreated and they tortured him till he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

I did end up making myself an appointment with a provider I felt good about AND who takes my insurance, so I’m at least moving in the right direction. I was actually sitting in a meeting today and absolutely fell apart with pain — I couldn’t even continue it. I tried to pop some pills but my mouth hurt too much for me to even swallow — I ended up spewing water everywhere.

(Which, BTW, a bottle filled with ice-cold water? Brilliant, I say. I have had to explain to way too many people why I have an Aquafina bottle attached to my neck, but hell, the curious stares are a small price to pay for a moment of numbness.)

I’m hoping they can just yank out my damn wisdom teeth while I’m there. I remember the last time I had wisdom teeth removed (on the other side of my mouth). The dentist literally had to crawl up on top of me and shove them out of my head.

There I was, lying upside-down with a military man pinning me down and shoving instruments into my mouth — sounds a lot like one of my better dates in recent memory. 😉 I wonder if this new one can do extractions with ME on top for a change?!?!

I had gone into my office yesterday under the auspices of, oh, catching up from being gone for so long, but all I ended up doing was cleaning a little bit. The office had gone unused so it was dusty and dust + Goddess does not a happy nose make.

So anyway, I came in this morning to find, on my clean little glass table, a Christmas tree!

My comrade/colleague/buddy had brought it in and plugged it into the extension cord I happened to have under it — I knew exactly who was responsible for it and went and hugged him immediately. He said his wife had given it to him for me — they’d been so sad to hear me declare that I was having no Christmas and they said everybody deserves a Christmas.

Today was the first time my tears flowed freely, but were full of joy instead of sadness.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. …

I’m so pleased to report that I bear resemblance to a “South Park” character, “Mr. Mackey.” Seems that not only is the right side of my head swollen with my famous eye-twitching and -watering self, but the left side is swollen due to a tooth infection. Awesome.

I called 1-800-Dentist so they could, say, find me a dentist who could handle an emergency (given that I was up all night with the ache and after I mixed Nyquil, Vicodin, Tylenol PM and ibuprofen I finally got to sleep, only for the asshole upstairs to start pounding at some ungodly hour. Gah), only to get nowhere. They e-mailed a customer satisfaction survey. I deleted it.

I got the name of nobody who can help me (on a Sunday of course), so I said fine, I’ll live another night — give me someone who can see me Monday. They just need to take my insurance and be on the same street I work on. (It’s not hard — the street spans six communities and has a bajillion medical practices on it.) Well, they found me someone clear on the other side of town who doesn’t open till noon.

Um, the hell?

So I said fine, get me someone near my house. Which, they did, I’ll give them that. They don’t open till 9 a.m., but whatever — it’s a start.

Now, this doesn’t mean I have an appointment or anything — I’m just told to expect a courtesy call from them and if I don’t get it to call them myself.

Um, what part of emergency have we addressed here?

So I went into my insurance provider’s Web site, and ran the dental office’s information. No luck, no coverage. You know, I’d said that if I could get quick service, I’d deal with the out-of-network shit. But I would have done better to hold a staple gun to my temple open up the farging Yellow Pages and take my chances … AND get someone on the street I requested.

I’d had great intentions on doing some work today, but with the amount of prescription drugs I have in my freezer that are now in my body, I’m afraid of what my articles would sound like. 😉 Lord knows it would make the dialogue to the aforementioned cartoon sound clean by comparison!