Magic Toothpaste...and other Dental Hygiene Stuff

I think my toothpaste tube is replenishing itself. Really. I mean, I have had the same family size tube of Colgate since I moved into this apartment at the beginning of January. And it's nowhere near done. What's up with that?! I have had to take the flip cap off it and unclog it more times than I care think about (it's probably due for an enema now), but I don't seem to be making progress on depleting the supply. Begs the question, "Am I doing something wrong?"

I'm sure many of you are already disgusted with me beyond belief (if for no other reason, for blending toothpaste and enema in a single idea), but stay with me. I think I have pretty normal dental hygiene practices. I brush twice a day (most days, no sense in lying about it). I have a toothbrush and toothpaste at work(and at most of my friends' houses). So, I'm as conscientious as the average bear. But I'm not using up my toothpaste. Why? I'm a middle squeezer, and as you can tell by the need for routine cap enemas, the flip tops don't help me remember to properly close when I'm done. So, it should follow that I waste a lot of toothpaste and therefore use it up more quickly. In fact, the shelf in my medicine cabinet where the tube lives has toothpaste leaks on it I need to clean as we speak. (Have I ever mentioned on this blog that I'm a slob? That's another post...one I'm so dying to write...you'll all be disgusted for sure!)

Part of the problem could very well be that in addition to being a slob, I am cheap. I'll admit that I may use the paste sparingly...but enough to handle business. Big globs of toothpaste make me gag, as do big globs of anything in my.... Um, oh. Toothpaste. I really hope I'm not stretching out this tube because I'm too cheap to cough up the $3.50 for a new one. WHY does toothpaste cost so much? Just like tampons? Why? Because they know we'll pay it. No matter how much they charge us, we'll pay for the convenience of not wearing an adult diaper between our legs, or not smelling like mush mouth. I hope it hasn't lasted this long because I'm frugal (read: broke). Although, I'm due for my check up and cleaning and the other day I was in the drugstore contemplating buying the $12.00 do-it-yourself captain hook cleaner and mirror kit as opposed to paying the $25 copay at the dentist. I mean, hell, I've had enough cleanings over my lifetime. I can manage. I didn't buy it. But, I haven't made my appointment either...still pondering the $13 difference.

I need help on this one? How long does it take a single person to go through a tube of ... wait, going to check the tube... ok, an 8.2 oz. tube of toothpaste? Oh, and i'm not a toothpaste sink dumper either. I hate globs of toothpaste in the sink. Just like I hate globs of anything in the sink...like ....hairgrease!! Get your minds out of the gutter. People, puhleeze! I'm a christian woman here. LMAO. Oops I guess I should be LMBO instead, huh?

Does my breath stink?

Most of the Fam

My Birthday

OK. Here's a shot of most of the fam. Let me please draw your attention to Charmaine in the far right corner over Kyla's (in the green sweater) shoulder. Let's just say she was cut off at that point!

 

Man-Pigs

Why are men pigs? I’m sorry for the generalization, but if you read on you’ll see that it’s not mine alone.

I just got on the elevator to get lunch. There were 3 middle-aged (I believe this is a safe assumption) Arab men on the elevator already engaged in conversation. Here’s what I walked in on:

Man 1: So, why do you shave your beard?
Man 2: My wife doesn’t really like it.
Man1: What about the girlfriend?
Man 2: What girlfriend? I don’t have any girlfriend?
Man 1: Why not?
Man 2: Wife wouldn’t like it.
Man 1: You don’t tell her. You just make (get) one!
Me: (Make eye contact with Man 1 and roll my eyes in annoyance.)
Man 3: I’m sorry, just having some “man conversation”.

Is THAT what “man conversation” is all about? PIGS!!!

Reflexes

I just heard the airbrakes engage on a tractor trailer outside my window at work. Sense memory is a trip. I had to catch myself from jumping out of my chair and running to the window.

The background: The ex drove a tractor trailer. Hearing the breaks engage meant he was home from a trip or something. And for some reason (we'll call it denial or stupidity-take your pick) I would be excited to see him.

It all just came flooding back in: the scratchy beard, the sweaty hug, the smell of diesel fuel. Scary. And weird. Nostalgia suffers from amnesia. And so do the reflexes apparently.

Hmm.

In Sickness and In Health (UPDATED)

This afternoon a friend and I were talking about her husband’s bout with vertigo. The conversation was sparked by our discussion of our shared complete and utter inability to deal with vomit, anybody’s vomit, including our own…and she has kids! I became really disturbed when she explained to me that even lifting his head from his pillow was enough motion to send him hurling, and that he needed someone to be with him every moment of the week he was experiencing this hell. This terrified me, as do most stories of illness these days, for a couple of reasons. First, I live alone. Who’s gonna clean up my vomit, or at least bring me the trash can, if I get vertigo? Or the flu for that matter? And second, I am extremely paranoid about life threatening illnesses right now (not that vertigo is life threatening). Especially with all that has happened in my family recently. Is it possible to dodge a bullet forever? What if the fateful day comes when the doctor says, “I’m sorry, ma’am…” ? The thought of it really has me out of sorts. I’ll explain…

I am healthy. I have regular physicals and well-woman exams and everything is A- ok. All of my crucial levels are in the normal range, except for one. My weight. I want to stay healthy. I have a family history of diabetes, heart disease, stroke, and cancer out the wazoo. And to be quite honest, this scares the shit out of me. I’ve watched family members bravely face their illnesses. I’ve seen some beat them, and others succumb. Too many have succumbed. And what’s frustrating about that is that most of these have been preventable conditions. I know the arguments that heredity factors into many of these conditions, especially in Black, Native American and Latino families. But, come on, tons of this has to be cultural. We eat crazy things like fat back, hog maws, chitterlings, smothered pork chops, macaroni and cheese, fried chicken and peach cobbler (in one meal) and then blame our illnesses on heredity. I’m not sure I buy that. And, while I stopped eating soul food a long time ago, I’m still overweight with my grill pan using, organic food buying, whole wheat only, ground turkey, no red meat in the house self. And that scares me!

I know I need to get moving. I know I need to get the weight off of me for my health and honestly, that has become my only motivation these days (although it’s not working all that well). I have quit beating up on myself for not being able to fit into my size 4s or 6s anymore (or 8s or 10s …or 12s for that matter). I’m ok with how I look (well, “ok” in the “I’m not going to do things to my body or my psyche out of self-hatred anymore” sense) but I know it’s not healthy for me. I’m so afraid that they day is just around the corner when the doc says that I have type 2 diabetes, or my blood pressure is out of the normal range and it scares me to death. I’m even to the point where I quit doing my breast self-exams because I’m just scared. I haven’t gotten past “what if I DO find a lump?”

A friend with a family history of breast cancer sent me an e-mail yesterday. The subject line read, “Inflammatory Breast Cancer, FYI”. And that’s about all I can tell you because I would not read it. I want to bury my head in the sand about women in their early 30’s dying of cancer - breast cancer, cervical cancer and the like. I’m facing my own mortality, I think, for the first time and it scares the hell out of me! I’m afraid to get sick. I’m afraid to be in a position where someone else has to take care of me. And, unfortunately I realize that the fear is becoming paralyzing, to the point where I’m ceasing to be proactive. I guess what stands in my way is that I know I can’t control everything, no matter how proactive I am. And, as a person who lives at the extremes (all or nothing) that’s not a welcoming thought. Because I’ll be damned if I eat grass and hay and work out and sweat like a pig (with all that means for maintaining a hairstyle), to just die of cancer anyway. And, I’m afraid that the stress brought on by the fear is going to cause one of these things to crop up in me anyway. What’s a woman to do? Does anybody else struggle with these fears? Am I being irrational here?

I gave some thought today to my eating habits. Thanks to Fresh Air Lover. Her last post made me really consider a few things. I love to cook. But I never do. I usually eat out. Why? Because it’s just me at home now and I hate to cook when I’m not cooking for someone else to enjoy. I never have a glass of wine with dinner because I have vowed never to drink alone since my family is full of alcoholics. But today I came home, cooked a nice dinner, poured myself a glass of wine and really enjoyed it. I realized that, hey, I AM good company and I’m worth preparing a great meal for too! It was actually really nice. Perhaps this can become a habit that will help streamline my waistline and my budget. Imagine that!

I’d like to hear your thoughts on health risks, concerns and fears. It’s driving me a little nutty.


~Scared to death to die.

UPDATE: So, I've decided to be proactive. I joined the gym in my neighborhood. My work has a discount program through my health insurance, so the monthly fee is reasonable. I think I can begin as early as tomorrow morning. AND, the gym is 1.5 miles from my house. We'll see how ambitious I am, but I can envision a 3 mile walk/run to get the cardio pumping before and after my in-house workout! I'll show those hypercancerbetes!!!

The Fam

I just added a new post to Unpacking Faith. It's been quite some time since I've given any deliberate thought to where I'm going along that journey. But alas, I've added some thoughts about where I am on that stuff.

On to this post...

The last couple of weeks have been huge for me as far as family goes. My fam has been through some turmoil in the last year. I lost an aunt and an uncle (husband and wife) within 39 days of each other this time last year. And this month I lost an aunt and a cousin (stepmother and stepdaughter) within just about the same amount of time, the most recent death just last week. The losses have been hard for many. (ASIDE: I deal with death in a very bizarre way. I don't even understand it myself. I almost have no reaction at all. I used to think that my feelings are there somewhere and that one day they will burst through to the surface...but I'm still waiting. There's only one death that has affected me in any significant way, an ex-boyfriend, and it's not even close to appropriate for this paragraph...so I'll tell you about that at another time.) Anyway, the losses have been hard for many. Last year they were in my dad's family, this year, my mom's. And the weird thing is that on both sides of my family, they've drawn my generation closer together as a unit.

I've had the best year with my cousins on my dad's side of the family. I gave them the chance to opt out of having their names posted, but since no one objected, I'll start using them. We have IMed, text messaged, chatted on the phone, blogs, at girl's nights, family functions, dance classes, snot fests, in hospital waiting rooms. We've laughed, cried and just bonded more in the last year than we have in 30 years! It's amazing and insane all at the same time. I've had so much fun with them recently and it has left me wondering, "why haven't we been doing this all along?!" As good as it feels to be closer now, I feel cheated. We've lost so much time we can never get back. And I find part of the explanation for this in what I've learned on the other side of the fam.

At my aunt's funeral I had the first adult conversation I've ever really had with 2 of my first cousins who are only a few years older than me. The reason: the previous generation's drama. What it all boils down to is that our parent's ins and outs have left me confused about what was true about them, what was not. They thought I hated them. I thought they hated me. But when we just all got in the same room and talked, the solution to the mess became perfectly clear. We resolved to get to know each other on our own terms. And this is true of both sides of the family.


I think it's an accurate statement that everybody's fam has its share of f- - -ed up-ness. Mine is no exception, on either side (though arguably exceptional in the extent of f. up-ness.) There are secrets, shortcomings, failures, violations, trauma, struggles, disappointments, desertions, dilemmas and plain ole drama in every family. I have been tremendously encouraged by the willingness of mine recently to break the silence around it all. It hasn't been easy. It's been painful to dredge up old pain, learn things that cause new pain, and to hear how others have hurt and been hurt...and to hear how you have hurt others. But my GOD how can you hope for sanity if you don't go through it?!?!

I think I've reached a point that borders on recklessness when it comes to truth-telling. But I am just so glad to have a space where people have ears to hear one another's experiences... authentically, and not the cotton candy smoke we so easily blow up each others'...well, you know.

Has it solved anything? Changed anything? Anyone? I guess it remains to be seen. But I really feel like I not only have a family, but like we really are family. This is light years away from what I was feeling when I wrote this post. This was at a time when I dreaded being at a family function. I actually find myself looking forward to them now. (I even hosted Mother's Day and Father's Day at my place this year.) But nothing beats the informals. They have been off the chain. We have to do another one soon ladies! I'm sworn to secrecy about our girl's nights but they have been so much fun. Let's get to planning, eh?

Ok that's my piece on family! Candra, Kyla, Krista, Elita, Dani, Erin, Maryam...love you girls! Love the guys too: Rick, Elijah, Edmund. And you too Mainey! Love you, Nikki and Bridgit, Ant, Donna and Lisa.

And, I would be remiss if I didn't mention those who we've lost, who, in ways we can not readily explain, have brought us just a little closer together: Rest in peace, Toby, Sharon, Dene, and Robin.

Here's to a generation with less drama! Here's to loving each other where we are!

(I need to add a pic to this post. Dani, send me the group shot from last Saturday.)

Travel Excitement

Today I'm re-thinking my excitement about traveling. If it weren't for bad luck I would have no luck at all as far as my travels go. I'm in Miami this week. As you can see from the track of Alberto above, we dodged the bullet. But, check out the track of the storm. I'm scheduled to fly out of here Wednesday night. What do you think the chances are that yet another of my flights this month will be cancelled and leave me stuck in an airport, again? (Minneapolis, Boston...now Miami?) We'll see. I'll tell you this - If the flight out is going to be anything like the turbulence we experienced on the way here, I will cancel my own flight and drive! Man, I thought we were going to fall right out of the sky.

The good news: I packed in 20 minutes or so. The bad news: I still packed too much. But, I'm getting better.

Let's see when I make it home! Enjoy the rain. It's headed home.

Peace and downpours!

6.6.06 Beware!!

And...

Yaaaay! But what a day to have a birthday, huh? People have already expressed their concern, and I can't tell you that I don't understand. Here's some history on my lovely day:

June 6, 1944: D-Day. Eisenhower gives the go ahead for the invasion of Normandy.

June 6, 1949: George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is published.

June 6, 1958: Truth or Consequences goes off the air! (Horror!)

June 6, 1997: A teenage mother gives birth and murders her baby in a bathroom stall at prom.


Ok, so I only remember one of these, but think of the implications. My birthday symbolizes American aggression, intrusive government and oppressive bureaucracy, the end of great television (rotf), and the demise of the conscience of our youth! Yep, sounds about like the June 6ths of years past have set the stage appropriately for today. Viva Damien! LOL

(Have I mentioned that I already know I'm going to hell, so there is no need for the religious wrong to remind me?!)

So far, so good though. It's a beautiful day. The weather's perfect. I woke up in a great mood and I had a brownie with pecans for breakfast because it's my birthday and I can!

Well have a great day!

~From Damien to you.

Prom!

So, my co-worker and I are at a conference in Boston. We noticed, before dinner, that they are having a prom tonight in the hotel where we're staying. After dinner (and a couple of drinks) we decided to go to prom! I didn't get to go to my own because I was on exchange in Argentina. So tonight I went. Charlestown High School, Boston, Mass. It was so much fun!!!

The highlights: Boodi-licious dresses, dude with Popeye airbrushed on the back of his tux, girl who walked by and said hi to the strange women in the back in flip-flops who dropped her bra at our feet as she walked off, dancing the last latin number with the one latino boy who could keep the beat who says, "I don't even know who you guys are, are you teachers?" Me: "don't worry about it!" Boy: "don't worry about it?????" LOL. It was a riot. I had much more fun than I'm sure I would have at my own. After all, I had on flip-flops and I didn't have to keep tugging at a satin death trap!!

...i got the right temperature to shelter you from the storm... LOL

too much fun!

Later.

Anger

Have you ever consciously made a decision to stop being angry at someone? It's a lot easier said than done and so much more goes into such a decision than I ever could have imagined. It has made me stop to consider the value of anger and how it serves in the process towards resolution, in the process of healing. Usually if I'm going to tackle something like this pubicly I've given it much consideration and perhaps even pre-writing in my journal, but this time I haven't. This is fresh in my mind at the moment and I am writing it as it occurs to me.

Today I made a decision that I am tired of being angry with two significant people in my life. (I realize as I am preparing to write this next sentence, that I am encumbered by the fact that I know that there are many who believe I should have come to this place long ago--I disagree with them vehemently and here's why.) They are people that I believe I spent too little time over the course of many, many years being angry with. Not allowing myself to feel anger protected me from having to acknowledge the reality of significant vicitmization and betrayal. Getting to the place where I could get angry marked significant personal growth, healing, and ability to begin to take responsibility for my life instead of just letting life happen to me. Anger has been a turning point, a crucial time for me to consider my worth, my value, my humanity and therefore my vulnerability.

I am a sexual assault survivor. I have had numerous perpetrators. My vicitmization began at age seven and continued into my adult life (although not with the same offender). This reality has shaped my life in ways I am aware of, and in ways that become more apparent with time. I heard someone say today that survivors never "get over" being sexually assaulted. It is so true. You never "get over" it. But I have gotten through a lot of the pain and healing and I am ready to get on with surviving my trauma. I want to see my victimization in my rear-view mirror and embrace it as a part of what has helped me to become the person I am today and as an element of my story that will help me connect with others who've been victimized and offer hope. But (and this is a big but) I want to be careful not to tie this up in this happy-clappy little bow and be like, "All things happen for a reason (for my good) and I thank God for my all sexual abuse and rape!" 'Cuz that's so not what I'm saying here.

And, though I am careful not to say the word "should" in this post, I also want to be careful not to imply that anyone should deal with their trauma in any particular way, particularly the way I'm dealing with mine. I hope that's clear....back to anger.

As much as anger has helped me to heal, I feel like it's now standing in the way of further healing. Anger has helped me to "get it", to see what has happened to me for what it is. There are still places where I struggle to "get it", but anger has helped me play things over and over in my head, in my mouth, in my journal, in my blog, in my poetry, etc. enough times to really see the picture that I needed to see of what has happened to me. Although, I still struggle to get what this means for my body, I think. I feel a disconnect between what has happened to me and what happened to my body. I think it has impacted how I view my body. As you can imagine, my body stopped being mine and sacred long before I realized that it was...well, mine and sacred. I think I still feel disconnected from that sense of value for my body. It's weird. To a large degree I still feel desensitized in this area. And, I wonder how that impacts how I treat my own body, what I fear, or what I don't fear. I think anger has paved the way, but now stands in the way of me dealing with these questions that I need to ask of myself. My anger has been about the abusers. I'm done with them. They are who they are. They've done what they've done. Maybe they'll change. I actually hope for redemption for them, but that's out of my hands. Choosing to let go of anger frees me to delve deeper into the me stuff. I'm ready to do that.

Does this seem insane? It probably is insane to be blogging about it, but I need feedback as I'm processing this and I HATE repeating myself. This is the perfect forum to say it once to everybody and then just respond to the feedback. LOL. Hey, I'm a cracked pot. What can I say?

Has anyone else ever sat back and thought about the role that anger plays in our healing? I'd love to hear what you've learned, felt, experienced.

And, there are still those who have had a hand in my vicitmization that I have been unable to feel anger towards. Not perpetrators, but people with secondary responsibilty
(those who failed to protect or chose not to see). That concerns me because I think it points to some denial I still have about those relationships. But, Rome wasn't built in a day, was it?

I wonder what my struggles will be once I release the anger I've had for these 2 people in particular. Does it mean I'll never feel angry at them again? If I do, will I be moving backwards? Will it signify that I moved on too soon? Is any of this really that neat? (I know the answer to that one!) Will it make room for anger in other places?

Well, that's it. Today I'm giving anger a second thought, and think I'm done being angry. I'm ready to heal past the anger. I'm anxious to know what's coming next. And oddly, I'm afraid that I'll fail at giving up my anger (maybe not so oddly).

Oh well. Here's to healing.

Cheers!