Monthly Archives: November 2012


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My mom and I were talking about my dad’s dad’s family and the last week of Dadada’s life. I didn’t know that they (Dadada’s family) had used up all the money in his bank account in that one week until after Aunt Judy accused my parents and me of perpetrating horrible abuses against Dadada prior to him living in Prattville for that last week of his life. Keep in mind that I was twelve when he died and that we were the people who would actually prepare his foods properly (no salt, no sugar, etc.), give him his medicines, get him to the doctor, get him to the hospital, etc.  Basically, we didn’t abuse him and there was no real way for me specifically to abuse him. She just lived in some la-la world where everyone except for her is a bad person. She’d be a great friend for that other aunt of mine. Anyway, mom and I discussed how Betty Ann was probably asleep while Dadada was dying and didn’t hear him. When his congestive heart failure would get bad, he would scream and holler and cry out that he was dying and couldn’t breathe. He could get extremely loud, so it is hard for me to imagine that she wouldn’t have heard him. While mom and I discussed this, I realized that I didn’t feel sorry for him. I didn’t feel bad that this man may have had died an excruciating death. For all my talk of forgiving him, of saying that I’m trying to move past the things he did to me and to my family, I realized that I still have a hell of a lot of anger towards this man. I still see him as this beast that ruined not only my childhood, but my life. I still, at my very core, hate him. And I feel like somehow it makes me a bad person to hate him. Is it okay to hate someone who abuses you or people you love? Does that make me as bad as them? Aren’t I supposed to realize that there had to be some catalyst that made him like he was, and isn’t that supposed to make me feel some sort of overwhelming compassion towards this man? Maybe one day I can feel compassion towards him, but I’m starting to think that that will never happen.

No Pity


[502-511] Taylor Momsen [512-528] Emily Deschanel [529-531] Emily Deschanel & Zooey Deschanel [532-539] Emily Deschanel & David Boreanaz [540-551] Mila Kunis (550 & 551 – w/ Santa Hats) [552-571] Demi Lovato (567-571 w/ Santa Hats) None are bases, unless stated. No hotlinking Credit if you use; comments are appreciated. Legit concrit is awesome, too, but bashing/excessive snarkiness isn’t wanted. Please do not repost my graphics on other websites without asking for my permission. (This includes tumblr and fanpop.)

Icons: Taylor Momsen, Emily Deschanel, Mila Kunis, & Demi Lovato



[252-260] Couples [261-275] Weddings [276-305] Women’s Rights/Abortion [306-323] LGBTQ/Marriage Equality/Sexuality [324-328] Miscellaneous political [329-341] Occupy Movement/99% [342-396] Autumn [397-426] Christmas [427-451] Ballet [452-456] Cats [457-461] Dachshunds [462-481] Sunflowers [482-501] Peonies None are bases, unless stated. No hotlinking Credit if you use; comments are appreciated. Legit concrit is awesome, too, but bashing/excessive snarkiness isn’t wanted. Please do not repost my graphics on other websites without asking for my permission. (This includes tumblr and fanpop.)

Icons: Stock (People, Politics, Animals, Flowers)


[001-005] Alabama [006-025] Auburn, AL & Auburn University [026-040] Huntsville, AL [041-130] Canada [131-155] New Orleans [156-175] San Francisco [176-190] Stockholm [191-191] Philippines [192-206] Historic Homes [207-222] Historic Buildings [223-251] Abandoned Asylums/Hospitals None are bases, unless stated. No hotlinking Credit if you use; comments are appreciated. Legit concrit is awesome, too, but bashing/excessive snarkiness isn’t wanted. Please do not repost my graphics on other websites without asking for my permission. (This includes tumblr and fanpop.)

Icons: Stock (Mainly Places) [251]



My dad didn’t go to jail for missing the court appearance. The judge said he has to come in this Friday or they will issue a warrant for him. Finding out that he wouldn’t go to jail was a huge relief. Of course, that was the same day that he also found out what they believe is wrong with his skin. The rash that has been pretty bad for about seven or eight months now is apparently psoriasis. He has to see a dermatologist, but the first appointment that they could get him in for is sometime in March. Apparently, they’re not all that worried about it. I guess they aren’t the ones with the itchy skin–or the ones who have to live with someone with itchy skin. My wait to see the hematologist has been extended. After getting the blood work done for my anemia, I received a call saying that neither hematologist that works in the unit I go to at the cancer treatment place will be in until a week after my original follow-up. I thought it was weird that I have to see the hematologist this time because on the day I had the infusion done, the hematologist’s nurse practitioner said that when it comes to reading the results and telling me about if I need another infusion or not, I could just see her. It makes me wonder if that means that they think something else is going on, want to schedule some different types of tests (i.e. bone marrow tests, which are done on severe anemia patients) or if they have to talk to me about a type of non-infusion treatments. It could be nothing, but the worry-wort in me is going to worry until I know for sure. It doesn’t help my anxiety that my blood pressure is almost always high now and my pulse is even faster. My blood pressure earlier today was 113 over 98, which puts my pulse pressure at 15. That’s too low and means my heart isn’t doing so well. My pulse has been higher at rest than it usually is, and the other day when I closed the front door & locked it, my pulse shot up to the 150’s. So that isn’t good either. I’ve also had more of my weird indoor sunburns recently, too. Yesterday morning, mom turned on a lamp for about five or ten minutes. I still have a rash from that limited exposure–over 24 hours later. I get to go to the great and wonderful Walmart later today, and I dread the rash that that will cause. (Walmart has been causing indoor sunburns on me for a long time now.) Not much else is going on, which is a good thing.  

In the Meantime


Friday was supposed to be my dad’s penultimate appearance in Mental Health Court. He was supposed to graduate next month. Now, we’re not sure when or if he’ll graduate because he forgot to go for Friday’s appearance. He forgot to check the calendar on Thursday night, which had become part of his regular routine over the past few months. By the time he realized that he’d missed the appointment, it was around midnight. We’re all worried because this could either cause him to have more appearances or it could cause him to go to jail. Most people who miss an appearance before this judge would end up with a warrant signed out for them. Usually those people are in jail by the end of the day. Since dad didn’t get arrested and they didn’t even call him, I don’t think he’ll be going to jail. I hope he won’t. We’re also worried because his depression and rage have been pretty bad recently, and this just made things worse. I was honestly worried last night that he was going to hurt himself or something. I’m still worried about that, actually. He just seems a bit broken lately. The only good news I can think of is that he made a call that might help convince them that he wasn’t just missing it because he’s some delinquent that doesn’t give a rat’s ass. After he went to bed last night, I remembered that he could call the Mental Health Center’s off-hours line and leave a message for his mental health court advocate. He did that on Saturday morning after he woke up. I don’t know if that will help, but I hope that it will. He’s going to call the court on Monday morning, so until then we’re just going to have to sit and wait. I hope that the judge realizes just how much he’s been doing lately and how he’s been really good so far. I hope that this one mistake doesn’t cause things to get worse. Monday was already going to be a stressful day around here. It is also the day that he gets his stitches for his skin biopsy taken out and the day I get to have blood drawn so that the hematologist can see if I’ve responded appropriately to the latest infusion. We also may or may not find out what the results of the histology report from the biopsy is. I’m guessing that since they didn’t call him already that the results are probably benign. Of course, there are times when they forget to call and it is something serious, so I’m still a bit worried for him. So, it will be a day full of worrying and other lovely anxiety-related feelings. I hope it all turns out well.

The Demands of Life



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Something very, very unusual happened less than 10 hours ago. I got my hair chopped off. Most people do that sort of thing on a regular basis. I haven’t had a haircut since around the time I had my sinuses roto-rootered. I actually got one this time for the same reason I had last time–a few big tangles/mats. I haven’t had the energy to brush my hair for over a month. I would brush the very top of it when I would have to go out so that the quick-bun that I would do wouldn’t look too horrible. Most days I would just walk around with it up in a similar fake bun. My mom and I had tried to work the mats and the tangles out, but it was too much for us. It was almost too much for Rhonda, the friend of the family that does our hair. She was going to wash it, deep condition it, then cut and style it. Instead, she had to chop off some of the big tangles at the bottom, then wash it. Then it was deep conditioned for 10 minutes before it was combed out, cut and styled. Actually, the second round of cutting and combing out of the hair took around an hour. Rhonda wanted to do a bob, but the tangles and mats were so extensive that it ended up in kind of pixie-style. It actually looks cute, and I think it makes my eyes look better. That was the main thing I noticed. Of course now I keep reaching up to touch my hair and having a bit of a panic attack because it’s gone. That’s part of why I’m so opposed to having my hair cut more than once every few years. I’ll get used to it. Actually, I’ll probably get used to right before it grows out of the pixie cut stage, since my hair grows so fast. (Rhonda said she thinks that I put Miracle-Gro in my hair because it grows out so quickly.) In case you haven’t seen it on Facebook or Tumblr and you’re curious, this how it looks now: And if you’re from the Huntsville area and want to get your hair cut, go to Our Place for Style.

Everywhere A Snip Snip


I am allergic to caffeine. Unlike my more anaphylactic-style allergies, my allergy to caffeine involves abdomen, jaw, neck, left arm, and chest pain. It also involves a faster heart rate and a pretty bad headache. And it doesn’t take much to trigger it. In ninth grade, at the holiday party for my dance class, I had a single sip of Dr. Pepper. This was the first time I remember ever feeling the reaction. Within minutes of taking that one sip, I felt like I was dying. Having lost both of my grandfathers to heart disease less than three years earlier, I knew what the symptoms meant. It was scary. I didn’t ask for help because I knew that if I did, people would think I was nuts. Teenagers don’t have heart attacks. And I wasn’t having one either. I was having angina attacks, which is also rare for teenagers. They aren’t all too rare in my family, though. My father also has this unusual reaction to caffeine. And, like me, he has spent a lot of time trying to get it across to doctors, nurses, and laypeople that he can’t have caffeine. It’s a hard allergy to have because caffeine is in a lot of products. I have to ask people giving out food samples if there’s caffeine in the products, no matter what product it is. I have to be careful what medicines I take. For example, my old headache doctor decided it would be okay to give me something with ergotamine and caffeine. I tried it once, and it caused a reaction. Another time I tried something with theophylline (an asthma medicine) in it, and it caused the same reaction. After almost 14 years, I am pretty much used to having this allergy. I worry about people who might have this allergy, but don’t know it. I worry about people who are so sensitive to caffeine that all it takes is a small amount to cause them to have an actual heart attack. I worry about people who have the reaction, but don’t put two and two together and end up dying from taking in too much caffeine. Even though cardiac reactions to caffeine and other medications are extremely rare, they do happen and they can be very serious. This is why I want energy drinks to be investigated. This is also why I want things that have caffeine in them to have warning labels.

A Single Sip



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I’ve cried a lot the past few days and I’m not exactly sure why. I think it has to do with my period. It started over the weekend and is, of course, heavier than what is considered “normal” for most people. (It’s lighter than what I normally deal with, though.) I started thinking about how every time I have my period, I hurt all over and I cry for days on end. I end up more depressed than usual and start feeling guilty about things that I shouldn’t even feel guilty over. But I hate the idea that sadness can be hormone-related. I know that they can be, and I know that on Ortho-Tri-Cyclin I wanted to jump off buildings on a pretty regular basis. (That was one of the first medicines I ever took myself off of without doctor approval.) This isn’t that bad, so I guess that’s good. Still, it is absolutely frustrating. And all of this crying has given me a headache, which sucks a hell of a lot.

Like a Colicky Baby


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Yesterday morning, before I went to sleep, I decided to finish off the last of the Fifty Shades novels. I was about 20 pages from the end when there was a perky knock at the door. My dad answered and found two members of the Relief Society First Presidency–aka the women in my ward (congregation) that are supposed to instill us with a sense of values and lead us away from acts of moral turpitude.  As they came in, I had to quickly figure out a way to hide the novel under me so that they didn’t notice. This was after days of trying to hide the covers so that my parents wouldn’t query me about the novels. My shame/fear was intensified when I had to tell these moral authorities my personal email address, which, of course, has fuzzypinkslippers.com in it. It wouldn’t have been that bad except that my mom went into a commentary about how I get a lot of sex-related traffic because of the name. The leadership folks were acting like they didn’t know what was sexual about fuzzy pink slippers, and maybe they don’t. (They are Mormon women considered worthy of leadership roles in the Church, after all.) And was worsened when the more talkative of the two said something about sex/porn being a bad thing. It was one of those moments where I didn’t know if I should hide in some kind of corner so that these women wouldn’t know my thoughts or if I should get up, while in my pajamas, and explain that sex is not bad and that such thinking is something that sucks in the world. Instead I  just kept my book hidden and my mouth shut. I’m not embarrassed by sex or sexuality. I don’t think they are bad things, but I’m embarrassed for people that I know personally to know that I look at things of a sexual nature. I guess its part of being reared in a culture and a religion that make sex out to be something dirty and wrong. I’m 28 years old, almost 29, and I should be able to look at books like Fifty Shades without having to hide them. I shouldn’t be able to feel such fear and shame about what others might think of me reading that kind of novel. (Of course, I felt fear and shame about what some of my friends who only enjoy highbrow literature might think of me reading them.) Erotica, porn, sexuality, and other things in general that are related to sex shouldn’t be things that are naughty or taboo. It’s sad that some groups make it out to be bad. And it makes me feel bad that I’ve allowed that sort of mentality to make me ashamed of reading something that I am legally able to read. Reading those novels didn’t make me a bad person. They didn’t make me lose some level of morality. Admittedly, reading them does diminish the likelihood that I would ever be considered worthy of a temple recommend. Not that that matters since I don’t think that I will ever find a Mormon dude who is willing to marry a woman who believes in equality across the board (including within the church) and who openly speaks out about the immorality that is the church  condemnation of LGBTQ relationships. My quest for magical underwear is probably no more diminished by my reading the Fifty Shades novels, my lack of shame over my collection of R rated movies, or my past membership on the Suicide Girls website than it was when I openly declared my liberalness back in 2008, about four months after officially joining the church. Yeah, so I shouldn’t be embarrassed or have hidden the novels. I still did. I guess I still have to learn to have a sexuality backbone.

That Awkward Moment When…