Mildly Exciting:
We met with a financial planner and I feel more on track with goals and ideas. We have a lot of catching up to do.
Disappointing:
Several of my post-op Percoset and Codeine pills are missing from my medicine cabinet. After going over and over it with Randy, we fear the only explanation is that a friend has stolen drugs from us.
Very Exciting:
I leave Tuesday to pick up my "new" car. It's a 1999 Honda CR-V that I'm buying from aunt in South Carolina. This means that I'll have a better car for snow (We woke up to first snow in Denver this morning!) and I get to see my sister, brother-in-law, nephews, and mom, plus aunts & uncles before driving 24 hours home. Along the way, I can visit friends in Nashville, Atlanta, and my brother and his family in Kansas City.
Bonus:
Trader Joe's in St. Louis means I can stock up on two buck Chuck.
Worth mentioning:
Randy is mopping right now. What a guy!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
A Sign on My Door
ELECTION DAY BLOG -
IF ANYONE PUTS A SIGN ON MY DOOR, IT WILL BE ME.
I am mostly posting this here for posterity, and have worked hard to be civil and hear all my friends' views out because I have a network of very diverse and intelligent friends, but maybe it will explain why I take it a little personally when people use my own house as their advertising space.
I have not put any campaign signs up in my yard. The only one that got offered to me said "I'm Latina & I Vote!" but I'm not, so I couldn't really use it. Anyway, after being canvassed and having about a jillion large Obama poster-sized fliers put on my door-knob, I now feel the need to respond, so the is going on my door. This is not the sole basis of my voting decision. Many other issues factor in, but this is the stuff that I get emotional about:
We have voted and do not want any fliers put on our property. Please do not leave any.
At the age of 6, my sister’s life was threatened by Black Panthers following the teachings of people like Khalid Al-Mansour, who has been pulling strings for Obama for some time. These Black Panthers were connected with international terrorists and took their orders from them.
Khalid Rashidi (former PLO press) both received funds for his organization and gave funds to the campaign for Obama. His former organization, the PLO, pointed many guns at my own father's head threatening his life.
These threats were made because of the work my father was doing to stop people like Bill Ayers from blowing up American buildings & to keep the PLO at bay, work which kept many Americans safe without their ever knowing it.
Enjoy your freedom today & vote your conscience, but
PLEASE DO NOT KNOCK ON MY DOOR & ASK ME TO VOTE FOR SOMEONE WHO BEFRIENDS AND RELIES ON THOSE WHO HAVE POSED A DIRECT THREAT TO MY FAMILY’S LIVES.
IF ANYONE PUTS A SIGN ON MY DOOR, IT WILL BE ME.
I am mostly posting this here for posterity, and have worked hard to be civil and hear all my friends' views out because I have a network of very diverse and intelligent friends, but maybe it will explain why I take it a little personally when people use my own house as their advertising space.
I have not put any campaign signs up in my yard. The only one that got offered to me said "I'm Latina & I Vote!" but I'm not, so I couldn't really use it. Anyway, after being canvassed and having about a jillion large Obama poster-sized fliers put on my door-knob, I now feel the need to respond, so the is going on my door. This is not the sole basis of my voting decision. Many other issues factor in, but this is the stuff that I get emotional about:
We have voted and do not want any fliers put on our property. Please do not leave any.
At the age of 6, my sister’s life was threatened by Black Panthers following the teachings of people like Khalid Al-Mansour, who has been pulling strings for Obama for some time. These Black Panthers were connected with international terrorists and took their orders from them.
Khalid Rashidi (former PLO press) both received funds for his organization and gave funds to the campaign for Obama. His former organization, the PLO, pointed many guns at my own father's head threatening his life.
These threats were made because of the work my father was doing to stop people like Bill Ayers from blowing up American buildings & to keep the PLO at bay, work which kept many Americans safe without their ever knowing it.
Enjoy your freedom today & vote your conscience, but
PLEASE DO NOT KNOCK ON MY DOOR & ASK ME TO VOTE FOR SOMEONE WHO BEFRIENDS AND RELIES ON THOSE WHO HAVE POSED A DIRECT THREAT TO MY FAMILY’S LIVES.
Monday, November 3, 2008
no, I'M breaking up with YOU!
WHY OH WHY CAN WE NOT GET MARKETING RESTRAINING ORDERS?
A while back we decided to cancel our DirecTV service.
The Goal:
-Watch less tv. Write more songs.
-Watch only what WE pick out (thru Netflix) and skip the advertising.

The customer service department at DirecTV seemed bewildered by this lifestyle choice and I tried to break it to them gently:
"We are not dissatisfied customers. You have delivered what you promised, but we just no longer want IT. Oh, and please be sure to put in our notes that we are very resolute about this decision and do not want to be asked again."
She informed me that they usually did not come back to remove the satellite dish which they installed on our roof because "we might change our mind."
"We won't. I just told you we are very resolute and do not wish to discuss this further."
"Yes, but we're not coming to pick it up in case the next people who live there want it."
"Ah, but this is MY house. I own it, so there are no 'next people' for many years to come."
"We still aren't coming to take it down. If you want it down, you'll have to do it yourself."
I informed her that I was NOW a dissatisfied customer.

Three hours later, I got a call from a salesperson asking me to come back. I told him that his company was worse than a whiney ex-boyfriend and really shouldn't be trying to win me back because I had expressed my explicit disinterest in retaining their services and reminded him that I was on the Do Not Call list.
Now they have taken an aggressive stance with me, sending me at least one piece of paper mail per week, threatening that this was my "last chance" to come back on the outside of the envelope, but alas when I open it up so that I can recycle the envelope and shred the letter, the letter takes that "Baby, I'm sorry it will never happen again" tone, promising me a free DVR, free HD access, and vague "upgrades." It's textbook behavior inviting me back into the cycle of abuse.

Does anyone know how to stop this cycle?
It's almost as if DirecTV can't handle the fact that I have broken up with them. Each week they must tell me it's my last chance to come back so that they can say, WE'RE breaking up with YOU!!!
HOW MANY TREES MUST DIE SO THAT DIRECTV'S EGO CAN BE SPARED?
A while back we decided to cancel our DirecTV service.
The Goal:
-Watch less tv. Write more songs.
-Watch only what WE pick out (thru Netflix) and skip the advertising.

The customer service department at DirecTV seemed bewildered by this lifestyle choice and I tried to break it to them gently:
"We are not dissatisfied customers. You have delivered what you promised, but we just no longer want IT. Oh, and please be sure to put in our notes that we are very resolute about this decision and do not want to be asked again."
She informed me that they usually did not come back to remove the satellite dish which they installed on our roof because "we might change our mind."
"We won't. I just told you we are very resolute and do not wish to discuss this further."
"Yes, but we're not coming to pick it up in case the next people who live there want it."
"Ah, but this is MY house. I own it, so there are no 'next people' for many years to come."
"We still aren't coming to take it down. If you want it down, you'll have to do it yourself."
I informed her that I was NOW a dissatisfied customer.

Three hours later, I got a call from a salesperson asking me to come back. I told him that his company was worse than a whiney ex-boyfriend and really shouldn't be trying to win me back because I had expressed my explicit disinterest in retaining their services and reminded him that I was on the Do Not Call list.
Now they have taken an aggressive stance with me, sending me at least one piece of paper mail per week, threatening that this was my "last chance" to come back on the outside of the envelope, but alas when I open it up so that I can recycle the envelope and shred the letter, the letter takes that "Baby, I'm sorry it will never happen again" tone, promising me a free DVR, free HD access, and vague "upgrades." It's textbook behavior inviting me back into the cycle of abuse.

Does anyone know how to stop this cycle?
It's almost as if DirecTV can't handle the fact that I have broken up with them. Each week they must tell me it's my last chance to come back so that they can say, WE'RE breaking up with YOU!!!
HOW MANY TREES MUST DIE SO THAT DIRECTV'S EGO CAN BE SPARED?
Friday, October 24, 2008
Siouxanne
In 2002, Randy and I wrote a song called "Siouxanne." He was just playing guitar in the living room and I was kind of humming and thinking aloud about a friend I lost touch with. It is always weird writing about people you know.
One of the first big shows we did in Denver was at our friend's art studio just after our friends' wedding. For the wedding, they asked us to learn a secret dedication from each one to the other. At the reception, we sang their surprise dedications to each other as a special gift. Well, bride & groom showed up. Let me back up and say that the bride and I had fallen out of touch for several years, and in the meantime, I had written a song called "Simplicity" about some of the things the bride in my story was going through at the time and my part in how the story might have unfolded differently, etc.
Knowing all of this, you can understand my puzzled look when, at the art studio show, my friend yelled out, "Do my song--you know the one you did for me!" and I suddenly thought she knew...In front of a crowd of people, I told her I didn't realize she knew I had written a song about her. She said she didn't know that either. And so, after many years, I confessed on the spot and sing "Simplicity" followed by the original misunderstood request of "Tupelo Honey." Yikes.
Well, thanks to Facebook and myspace, tonight, I sent an mp3 to Siouxanne (now just Zanne) of her song. I am nervous, nervous, nervous, but I have been wondering if she was alive, how she is, and if the day would come when I'd have to tell her that this song exists with her name on it.
One of the first big shows we did in Denver was at our friend's art studio just after our friends' wedding. For the wedding, they asked us to learn a secret dedication from each one to the other. At the reception, we sang their surprise dedications to each other as a special gift. Well, bride & groom showed up. Let me back up and say that the bride and I had fallen out of touch for several years, and in the meantime, I had written a song called "Simplicity" about some of the things the bride in my story was going through at the time and my part in how the story might have unfolded differently, etc.
Knowing all of this, you can understand my puzzled look when, at the art studio show, my friend yelled out, "Do my song--you know the one you did for me!" and I suddenly thought she knew...In front of a crowd of people, I told her I didn't realize she knew I had written a song about her. She said she didn't know that either. And so, after many years, I confessed on the spot and sing "Simplicity" followed by the original misunderstood request of "Tupelo Honey." Yikes.
Well, thanks to Facebook and myspace, tonight, I sent an mp3 to Siouxanne (now just Zanne) of her song. I am nervous, nervous, nervous, but I have been wondering if she was alive, how she is, and if the day would come when I'd have to tell her that this song exists with her name on it.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
One Week In
I have lost my voice. All the songwriting I was hoping to do has been put on hold because my throat is killing me, and when I can manage to make a sound, it's the sound of a frog. Apparently, surgery can lower your immunity to viruses and I have one. I'm tired and lethargic.
Yesterday, I got out of the house and ran a bunch of errands and felt pretty good, but today I am wiped out.
All this time alone in the house makes me question the meaning of life, my purpose on earth, and every question leads to fifty more questions. Google is no help and I am drowning in "possibilities" but not sure what action to take.
The presidential debates are on tonight so that should further frustrate and confuse my sense of justice and truth. Maybe I will skip it for a Monarch of the Glen marathon. Thank you Netflix.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Hysterectomy

Back in January, I finally went to see a doctor about pain I was experiencing every month. Yep, the girl kind of pain, but worse.
Doctor #1 sent me for an ultrasound and then called me on my way out the door to catch a plane to inform me that I had a birth defect - something called a septate uterus. The best way to describe this is to say that if a woman's womb is the home for her unborn child, then I have a duplex without enough square footage on either side for a kid to live safely. She suggested something called an oblation. She also said this would not explain my pain at all so this explanation did not sit well with me. Her non-chalant attitude in telling me that I was deformed also didn't charm me much.
Doctor #2 looked at the ultrasound results for a second opinion, and correctly diagnosed me with something called a penduncular fibroid. This thing was apparently pushing into my uterus and splitting it in half (without breaking it). THAT explains the pain! She ordered a laparascopy and hysteroscopy to be sure.
Surgery #1 was in April (with Doc #2) and confirmed this diagnosis along with the discovery of endometriosis. Conclusion: I need a hysterectomy.
After reading up on all the different kinds of hysterectomy (total, supracervical, laprascopic, abdominal, etc. etc.) I made a decision to go with an LSH (Laprascopic Supracervical Hysterectomy) - the conservative choice with the least scarring and recovery time. When I informed Doc #2 of this, she said it was a newer operation and she did not perform it and promptly referred me to Doc #3.
Doctor #3 was a laid back but thorough and knowledgeable guy who made me feel instantly comfortable and confirmed that I had made the right choice about which kind of surgery to have. He even scheduled my surgery on his day off since I had been waiting a while. Of course, he loses points for saying when Randy came in to the room for my pre-op appointment/exam, "Oops. I forgot to do a breast exam! I'll just do that now." AWKWARD!
Monday, the surgery went very well and I was done by 1:00pm. They told me I could go home as soon as I "peed." Of course, with nothing to drink or eat for 12 hours, this was no easy task. The anesthesia made me incredibly nauseated, and I had a migraine going in, so I wound up there until 5:00pm because they maxed me out on nausea drugs and I was still sick as a dog. At last, I lost my liquid lunch and felt okay enough to get out of the backless gown and head home.
Once home, the process started again and it was a long night of migraine, nausea and soreness. Randy is taking amazing care of me. Our church is bringing meals by three days a week right now, and lots of love is being sent my way. I feel lazy and spoiled but very glad to have this behind me.
This morning I looked at all the photos from my surgery. Randy is easily freaked out by this stuff, but I am fascinated. They're really gross though. I found some other photos from a similar surgery online tonight that helped me figure out just what I was looking at, and I feel like I have a good understanding of why my body felt the way it did for so long. I look forward to much better health in the coming year.
I'm sure there is a lot more to say about the emotion of losing something as significant as my womb, and the finality of it all, but for now, I'm just grateful to have a solution without major complications.
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