bits of string and sealing wax

my quest to achieve a balanced life

back to school May 15, 2011

Filed under: Life, The Universe, And Everything — didibuttonsley @ 4:55 pm

So tomorrow I am starting another semester.  On the plus side I only have two classes this summer, and I already took both of them (and failed) so it’ll be like getting back on a bicycle.  Bah hahahahahah!!  Four of us failed these classes, so I’m glad I’m not the only one who had a horrible semester.  Shea and I just decided to switch over to the second freshman class that was seated in January.  We could have opted to take classes with their group AND ours, but that would mean that for the next year and a half we’d be in Gainesville three days a week for school instead of two.  NO WAY!  Honestly, I think it’s for the best.  I like our group, but there are so many that don’t get along very well, which is a damned shame because there are only sixteen people in the group.  It’s sort of a contentious lot.  There is one in particular who is very disruptive and rude towards others in class, and I’m not going to miss that.  Apparently the other group all loves each other, and everybody gets along.  Their class is smaller (only 8), and maybe that has something to do with it.  I dunno.

My class days will now be Mondays and Tuesdays (9 until 2, which is sweet) and my clinic days are Wednesdays and Thursdays.  I’m glad that I won’t have clinic on Mondays anymore, because that is open house night and those things can drag on forever.

Since I’m beginning a new semester I am going to start doing my aerobics again.  I shouldn’t have stopped, but it’s all good.  I have missed my old school Jane Fonda.  I am going to go home to visit when the summer term is over, and I want to be between 180 and 185.  I’ve got fourteen weeks, and a pretty positive attitude.  I have to lose about one and a half to two pounds a week.  Think I can make it happen?  I’m going to return to Florida with all of my old clothing (all size 12) and hopefully be able to fit into them shortly after the new year.  Things have been going so well since I have moved that I feel like it’s going to be a piece of cake changing my lifestyle for the better.  Perhaps I’m in such a good mood because I’ve been swimming in the ocean so much.

 

matters of perspective May 14, 2011

Filed under: Life, The Universe, And Everything — didibuttonsley @ 12:10 pm

Song Of The Day: Rufus Wainright - Oh What A World

I’m not on call this weekend. I requested to have off every other Saturday and Sunday, and I don’t feel like such a request is unreasonable. My phone rings at three thirty this morning, and the call is coming from the clinic. I stare at the number in grim disbelief, listening to the obnoxious bleeps of the phone while weighing my options. Is this some kind of test on my boundaries? She wants me to come in to a birth. She wants me to be a good midwife, she says. Never mind about people respecting boundaries, in this place of learning it’s about sacrifice. I tell her I made plans with my cousins today. The whole thing ends with her insinuating that I am making up these plans, and what a shame that I am missing a birth. I had to drop it and let it go. The other option was to let fly a string of profanity so long that I could follow it all the way back up to the Midwest.

Then I’m just in bed in the dark all sparked with the rage, and I can’t get back to sleep, and I can’t even figure out what the hell I’m so damned pissed off about. She was just being herself. She expects too much and constantly oversteps the boundaries of others. Always pushing, always pushing. It ain’t like this is something new and wholly unexpected. And her upset with me shouldn’t get me going.

I think about it. I’m pretty angry is what I think. What is this about? I see the situation as her pushing boundaries. My perspective is that she isn’t respecting or valuing my time. I am being used for free labor, and I’ll be drawn thin until there is nothing left and I’m gouging out my eyes and tearing out hunks of gray hair. Oh, fuck it. I’m pulling at the chromic gut of these injuries again. My vision is clouded by the gunshot wounds that prompted me to run a thousand miles away in the first place. I can’t think clearly because I’m sitting in a cave (dark bedroom) listening to the echoes of events that I can’t get rid of or forgive.

I fall asleep mad, and I wake up mad. I wake up a different sort of mad. I’m analyzing and mad, and this annoys me. I bombed a situation that was embarrassingly simple. She wasn’t trying to overstep boundaries. Not really. She was at a nice birth, and she likes me, and maybe just wants me to be around so that I can learn and be at a peaceful birth (unlike the last one). The last one was blood, and shit, and terror. This one is on the other end of the spectrum. It was a friendly gesture. I took it all wrong, because I’m a dog that’s been kicked too many times. I want to trust and I want to accept friendship, but I’m ready to bolt at all times.

I came from this dark place of neglect and abuse, and because I can’t let that bullshit go I keep making little mistakes like these. I surrounded myself with fools who weren’t worth their weight in piss. If you believe that you deserve to be treated poorly, than people are going to treat you poorly. I accept this, but I wish that my brain would let the past be the past. The people I have made connections with here ARE NOT the ones I left behind. It is unfair of me to respond to them as though they are. If I let a warped perspective rule my life I’m going to create situations that parallel the ones I left. The sad thing is that these situations aren’t anything like the ones I left at all, but I occasionally misinterpret things. I can get caught up in it and I’ll end up THINKING that situations are the same when they honestly have nothing in common. Yipes. I’m working so hard to forgive the past, but FUUUUUUCKKKKK (!!!!!), progress is slow.

Oh, and somehow the universe always knows what I’m doing, and then has a good chuckle about it by adding twelve gas cans to the fire, because right around the time I was having all these thoughts about how bitter and untrusting I am, and how mangled the chambers of my heart are I got a random text from an ex boyfriend that I haven’t had a word with since I left. He texted some private joke to me from long ago. Why? I don’t know. Just to make things more interesting I suppose. And I thought to myself, “Well, I’ll be dipped in shit… what are the odds of this?” One of the people who kicked me in the ribs a hundred times and helped me to build a harbor of mistrust and folly around my heart decided to text me out of the blue. Lovely. I texted back one word. Nerd. I guess I was a little shocked and that was the best I could do.

The sum of everything splashing all around in my head, and all I do is text “nerd.” Jesus, am I a putz, or what?

 

MANA statistics and FIMR May 13, 2011

Filed under: Life, The Universe, And Everything — didibuttonsley @ 4:42 pm

song of the day: Beyonce - Halo

I start my semester on Monday, and I wish I had another week (or two or three) off.  I’ve been going to the beach a lot, and paddling around in the gulf.  I believe it is a new addiction.

At the clinic I have been trying to get our MANA statistics up to date.  These statistics are pretty important, and document all the information about our clients including things like: age, weight, height, medical history, level of education of the woman and her partner, outcomes of previous pregnancies, nutrition during pregnancy, and so on and so on and blah dee dah dee dum.  EVERY piece of information in a chart that is at all relevant has to be filled out in this excruciatingly long online form.  It takes about 45 minutes to an hour to complete one person.  Unfortunately, nobody has been doing them at the birth center, so there are thirty three from last year and thirty three from this year that need to be filled out.  Guess who gets to do them all?  Little ole me.

It isn’t so bad at first, but once you get to the fifth one your brain begins to shut down one little hunk at a time.  The information is scattered throughout the chart, so there is a lot of page turning involved.  I can’t understand why my preceptor let so many collect up.  I am determined to get everything up to date, even it means my brain will be reduced to tapioca.

Forgive me for even talking about this.  I realize that the topic is extraordinarily dull.  It’s just that I’ve been doing so many over the past two days that I’m seeing the numbers flashing before my eyes.

Oh, and yesterday I was at the hospital for a FIMR meeting.  That stands for fetal and infant mortality review.  There is a meeting once a month.  You go on in and sign out for a packet (confidential info- they taser you if you try to leave with it).  Inside this packet are all the records for every baby that died in utero or postpartum from the previous month.   Perhaps it sounds grim, but they are honestly pretty interesting.  There were three cases to read, and after everybody read them we discussed reason/s for miscarriage/death and what could have been done differently.  Cheerful stuff.  The kind part of me is sad for the mothers and families.  The logical part of me thinks “SHIT!  Maybe these folks don’t NEED any more kids!”  I was reading through the charts, and I find it strange how Americans just don’t want to have to accept responsibility for things.  And we keep creating all kinds of neat and helpful programs so that everybody can go on continuing with not accepting responsibility for things.  Hmmmm.

I need to finish papering a bookshelf, and I am so sleepy.  We have this giant bookshelf in the living room, and it was so ugly and white, so I covered it in scrapbook paper.  I love gluing stuff to other stuff.  I papered my entire kitchen (back home)  with scrapbookey goodness, and it reminded me of something out of a storybook.

I also finished sir rabbit.  Here he is.  Oh boy, am I tired.

my roommate introduced me to the wonders of minwax varnish, so the finished picture is nice and shiny.

 

homoepathics and alec baldwin May 7, 2011

Filed under: Life, The Universe, And Everything — didibuttonsley @ 12:38 pm

Jitter, I am COMPLETELY with you on homeopathic remedies.  I know, I know, I oughtn’t be skeptical of such alternative measures for treatment, as I myself am a huge advocate of energy/ metaphysical healing.  Still, there’s something about homeopathic remedies that make me think to myself, “Gosh, I’m pretty sure all that you just did was put a plastic pellet under your tongue.  Shall I go and collect stones from the driveway for you to put in your cheeks as well?  With our forces combined we can keep you distracted until your mild cold goes away on its own.  SUCCESS!”  My preceptor uses some homeopathics on certain clients during labor, and I try not to think that it’s rubbish.  However, I’ve not seen the homeopathics have much of an affect on anything.  Acupuncture during labor WORKS.  Herbs work.  Sterile water injections work.  Massage techniques, robozo, metaphysical healing, and all manner of things work great, but I’m still not sold on those homeopathic pellets.  That, of course, is why I was so shocked that my classmate called to praise the glories of homeopathic HcG.  I respect her.  She’s trustworthy, and intelligent, and no nonsense, and still in the back of my mind I was thinking, “What a bunch of fucking baloney.  Allie has lost her bloody grip on things.”  And naturally I felt guilty for thinking as such, and I told her I would try a bottle out of curiosity since it wasn’t a huge investment, and it couldn’t hurt, and I could get it sent in the mail, etc.

Yesterday was the maiden voyage of what I am calling my “homeononsense weight loss experiment.”  Hmmm.  That should perhaps all be one word.  Homeononsenseweightlossexperiment.  Nice ring to it.  There is actually a low cal diet that goes along with the drops, but I decided that I wasn’t going to follow it.  It is soooo low cal that a person would lose weight by following it NO MATTER WHAT (I think it’s like an insane-o 500 calories a day or something) and would not help to prove if the drops actually worked or not.  I decided to stick to the “listen to my body’s needs” thing that I adopted after reading “When Food Is Love” written by Geneen Roth. (Great book, by the way)  I have been losing a pound a week doing this alone.  Once I start up my workouts again, I believe this number will go up a little, but I’ve been satisfied with my results since I moved to Sarasota about a month ago.  I’m not obsessing about the numbers as much (huge progress for me) and I am slowly convincing myself, once again, that I have more to offer the world than a body.  Like what, Didi?  Like what?  I’m still figuring it all out, gang.  I really am.  I think it has something to do with balloon animals.  ANYOLDDANGHOW, I’m getting off on a ramble, and this paragraph is all over the place, and likely requires editing, but since I’m off to the beach as soon as this is posted I’m not going to edit anything, and I’m just going to keep typing away, and banging at the keys, and not paying a lick of attention to rambling run on sentences, and rambling run on paragraphs.  Alright!  Back to business!

So I got my little bottle of magical snake oil in the mail, and read the instructions.  Take six drops under the tongue six times a day.  Kick self repeatedly in ass for spending twenty six dollars on a bottle of water that tastes sort of like diluted calomine lotion.  Yep.  I believe they sent me homeopathic calomine lotion by mistake.  Ha ha.  I took six drops under the tongue before I went to bed, just to get the ball rolling.  Yesterday was my first full homeononsense calomine drop day.  I woke up completely RAVENOUS, which has not happened in a long time.  I seriously wanted to eat, at the very least, three medium to large sized bears.  I was wondering if the drops had any side effects, you know, like rapid weight gain that drags one into the land of the morbidly obese…  I wanted to stick to the “follow your body” shit, so I decided to just go with it.  For breakfast I consumed a mound of leftover rosemary seasoned potatoes with asparagus, and then I ate a bit of leftover Thai, and then I had a yogurt, and then two oranges.  As I happily sucked down the oranges I couldn’t help but smile to myself and think, “Whoa.  This is wayyyyyyy more than I generally eat for breakfast.  Why am I so hungry?”  I then proceeded to make myself a nice bowl of cream of wheat.  I haven’t eaten that stuff in over a decade.  Want to know how I like it?  With just over a quarter of a stick of butter melted into it, and a whole mess of sugar.  I stared off dreamily as I swirled the butter into my bowl of cream of wheatey goodness, and poured a layer of granulated sugar over the top.  Ahhhhhh.  Was my subconscious making me ravenous just to disprove the effectiveness of homeopathic remedies?  I don’t know.  All I know is I had what one might call a “hearty” breakfast.  “Hearty” as in I am fairly certain that chunks of butter and sugar coated cream of wheat had actually worked their way into the ventricles of my heart.  My superior vena cava hurts.

To further sabotage my homeononsense experiment, I decided to do nothing yesterday.  I sprawled on the couch and only got up to get snacks, water, more snacks, and go to the bathroom.  I watched the last eleven episodes of the first season of 30 Rock.  I was on fucking fire, guys.  Shortly before midnight I felt a pang of guilt over having done so much of nothing in one day, so I got my shit together with a quickness and showered before the day was technically over.  Some days a shower is as good as it’s gonna get.  What did you do yesterday, Deonn?  Erg… I finished season one of 30 Rock and ate food.  WAIT, WAIT!  I SHOWERED TOO!!!!!

Ok, so this morning I woke up and cheerfully put six drops of magical goat pee HcG under my tongue.  Sock it to me, homeononsense, I’m ready for round two.  I then hopped on the scale to prove to the world that homeopathic remedies don’t work for me at all.  I lost a pound overnight.  What.  The.  Fuck.  Is this calomine tasting pee water actually doing something, or is it a fluke?  Perhaps watching 30 Rock for extended periods of time is a replacement for aerobic activity.  I might be onto something here.

Upon waking I noticed that I felt strangely energetic.  I still do.  I’m sort of all weird and tingly.  Again, I am forced to ask whether this is related to the drops or to the four plus hours of 30 Rock viewing.  Has Alec Baldwin’s zeal spilled over from streaming on Netflix and worked it’s way into my bloodstream?  This could be the only logical explanation, as I am still hesitant to give credit to a bottle of funny tasting water that I foolishly blew just shy of thirty bucks on.  Thirty days of 30 Rock for a slimmer ass.  Sounds good, right?

 

i wish vacation was three months May 3, 2011

Filed under: Life, The Universe, And Everything — didibuttonsley @ 12:01 pm

Just wanted to let everybody know that I am still alive.  I have two weeks left of my vacation, and so far it has been really great.  No school stress = a happy Didi.  I’ve lost weight, and am now needing a belt to hold all my pants up.  I’m still staying away from the scale, and I think it is a wise choice because I’ve been feeling much happier without the bastard.  I’ve not started up aerobics again, but plan on picking it up once more this week.  I’m not really following any diet regime; I try to follow the signals of my body to figure out what I need to eat.  So far it has been working fairly well.  I believe that the sublingual B vitamins, and sublingual D have been helping and intend to keep taking them.

It’s really nice feeling like I have a home again, and I love my new roommate, Emily.  She officially ties (along with my cousin, Dan, of course) as the best roommie that I have ever had.  I’ve lived with a dozen different people over the years, so I feel that I am an expert on roommates.  We’ve been having a fine time decorating the house, cracking each other up, and hanging around used book stores.  She is an amazing artist, and works at a tattoo shop (wants to open her own) so I’m thinking I may have her do a tattoo for me.  I don’t have any.  Perhaps I could get one as a gift to myself when I hit 180 or something.

One of my school chums called me yesterday to inform me that she and her preceptor decided to try homeopathic hcg drops.  (I didn’t know they had homeopathic drops, I only heard about the prescription injections)  The midwife she works with wanted to lose six pounds, and my girl, Allie, wants to lose maybe thirty.  The two of them have been using them for six days.  Her midwife stopped using them as of yesterday because she lost six pounds already, and Allie has lost seven pounds.  She said they decided to try them because they know a lot of people in south Florida who lost significant amounts of weight on them and kept it off without any issues.  HCG is a hormone produced by pregnant women, and I honestly don’t know much more about it than that.  It isn’t something I would even bother with normally.  The only reason I decided to drop 25 bucks on a 2 ounce bottle (one month’s worth) is because Allie is a really good friend of mine.  I figure if it helps than it helps, and if not… whatevs!  I’ve been losing weight on my own anyhow.  I read that the homeopathic drops go well with the liquid B and D vitamins that I have been taking.  I’m not getting my hopes up for miracles, but I suppose trying it for a month can’t hurt.  Allie told me that she has to force herself to eat because she has NEVER felt hungry since she started taking the drops.  She is extraordinarily intelligent, completely rational and down to earth, and has never tried a diet fad before, so maybe that’s why I decided to trust her judgement and give it a go.

I don’t want any of you guys rushing off to buy this crap.  I’m going to be the guinea pig on this one.  When it gets here and I start using it, I will let you all know.  If I get good results after a week, you can all run off and be saved by miracle diet drops.  Tee hee hee, it all sounds so bloody silly.  I can’t even believe it was Allie who called to tell me about it.  She’s the last flippin person I’d expect to hear such lunacy from.

In about an hour I am going to go fishing (catch and release, of course), and probably swim in the gulf.  Tomorrow I intend to hit the beach.  I wish we had the whole summer off, I really really do.