I understand...

All of use have had our hearts picked up and smashed against a wall. All of us have lost family, friends, and loved ones dear to us. All of us have faced unfair, cruel circumstances. And as we go through them feeling and thinking no one has ever endured such pain... no one has ever lived through such hell and sadness, it's very true. No one ever has. No one can enter your head, step into your shoes, and live the tragedy you're living through, not even a person who may have had a similar experience. Too many variables like past experiences, someone's strength of character, someone's backbone (or lack of backbone), and in some cases just plain stubbornness can help one through the deep, dark times.

I think that's why it gets on my nerves and pisses me off so much when people say to me.... "I understand." How in the world can they understand? They aren't me. Many don't have a clue what makes me tick. Hell, some days I don't even know.

What they can understand is that long, twisting, winding road of grieving, mourning, the crawling back to life, and sometimes rough steps forward to continue on. Because that they have been through, in one form or another.

The statement of one day at a time can work some days, while other days it's hour by hour. I think a better term to say is "I sympathize."

Well, it's official

Work has been crazy and I haven't taken the time to write down some thoughts... I'm now registered at Chemeketa Community College for the Fall 2005 term. Starting off with a "Credit for Prior Learning" course, with the hope of receiving college credits for some of the basics. Winter term I'll start the Financial Accounting series. Considering I have roughly 23 years in accounting, payroll and computers, I should have had my ass back in school long ago. May 2005 marked 27 years since high school graduation. Damn, where did the time go?

In an effort to bring in some extra income, I've been running my own little store at http://www.cafepress.com/domadesign with some fun stuff. And today I signed up to become an independent business owner through Quixtar. Hard to believe all the stuff available through this site. Decent prices too. The address is www.quixtar.com and you'll need my IBO number 4399979 to register as a client for free. I found the XS Energy drinks to be really good. The best part is zero carbs, no sugar and only 8 calories per can. The boost is from the B vitamins and I was rather surprised how well they worked.

It would be nice to be able to pay the truck off early with some extra income. My 2% COLA at work put me in to a higher tax bracket, plus with my deferred comp deduction at a percentage, I actually brought home less. Go figure...

If I Knew

If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep, I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord your soul to keep.

If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door, I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more.

If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise, I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day.

If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute to stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you would KNOW I do.

If I knew it would be the last time I would be there to share your day, well, I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip away.

For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight, and we always get a second chance to make everything just right.

There will always be another day to say "I love you," and certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do?"

But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get, I'd like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget.

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike, and today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today? For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day,

That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss that you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear. Tell them how much you love them and that you'll always hold them dear

Take time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me," "Thank you," or "It's okay." And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

Day by day...

For those of us who live with the reality of HIV, we all live in very different worlds. We can be found in rural villages, conservative small towns, and liberal big cities. Name a suburb anywhere in the world and we will be there. From slums to penthouses, street corners to prisons, we are everywhere.

It's not surprising that it can be hard to truly see eye to eye on things when we are looking, living and speaking from our own perspective. When it comes to the reality of living with this virus, we are the experts of our own experiences and past history. We catch glimpses of how other people live but we can never fully understand anyone else's reality. Even so, there are some basic things that we all have in common and uncertainty is one of them.

One difficult issue of this disease is the way its course reveals itself to us moment by moment, day by day, season to season, and ultimately... blood test to blood test. Some of us are living well with HIV, while others are not so lucky - but none of us can ever be quite sure of where we stand. A manageable infection can turn nasty overnight. We can be at death's door in springtime and doing well by fall. We can pay for our lives one year living happily and enjoying good health, and be without income and destitute the following month.

We exist at the mercy and on the whims of a virus, of doctors and nurses, of politicians and corporations. We never know how someone will react to our unwanted companion. We live with uncertainty every day. While there is no certainty for anyone in this world, those of us with this virus have that uncertainty in sharp focus. It follows us like a shadow, lurking in the corners, always there in the back of our mind.

Whether or not we publicly acknowledge it's existence, it is there. Even the most active, positive-thinking person among us would confess to feeling the cold tendrils of HIV and the uncertain future that is our life. It is the strangle hold of these tendrils that our positive, uplifting thinking helps to keep at bay. Some days, it can be exhausting work just keeping the light on directly overhead so that no shadows may fall, knowing that just beyond the light the tendrils are waiting.

We struggle to find words to adequately describe this life. Manageable. Chronic. Terminal. My personal term is "a severe chronic illness with terminal tendencies". We don't know into which terminology we will fall until it's too late and we are falling, or until we have taken that particular pill, battled an illness or infection, lost that job, or fought through a deep and dark depression. We hope and pray the term manageable applies to us to us personally and have a sense of failure if it does not. We feel failed by the drug companies who promised us mountains, but instead gave us buffalo humps, skinny arms and legs. We feel failed by our own bodies and by each other. We feel failed by the uncertainty of it all.

It is because of this all pervasive uncertainty that I doubt we will ever collectively agree on the terminology to describe our lives with this illness. For myself, I try to balance hope with pragmatism. A pessimistic optimist, if you will.

So, for today anyway, I choose to say that having HIV infection is having a living death sentence. I'm living to the best of my abilities while an uncertain future coils expectantly in the shadows. I hope I can keep the light overhead for a long time to come, but living with the uncertainty is a daily challenge. Yet in some weird way, I feel blessed by it all, for I have learned to live the day, discovered what is truly important, and while on this journey, met folks who have become wonderful friends. God certainly works in mysterious ways... Peace to you.

Nail in the Fence

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. " A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.

Long time, no type.

Well, it's been a rather busy month. Work has been just plum crazy. Oregon's state government operates on a two year budget cycle, called a biennium. July 1 odd numbered years through June 30 odd numbered years. So July 1, 2005 was the beginning of the "05-07" budget cycle. That also means that June 30 ended the "03-05" biennium. In addition to biennium closing and trying to get all the bills paid properly and all the work associated with that, I was given the task late June to clean up and catch up our 24 different United Parcel Service (UPS) accounts, some of which were 12 weeks behind, and definitely past due. And to continue to handle all my current work. I'm happy to say that when I left work yesterday, I had finished coding the cost centers for all the weekly invoices, scanned them in, and emailed them out for approvals. I am amazed that co-workers allow things to get so far behind. Makes me crazy...

To add to the frustration, our state legislature - the Senate and the House of Representatives - which only meet for roughly 6 months at the end of a closing biennium to pass laws and approve state agency budgets for the next biennium, hasn't even passed a single state budget. Oregon has a Democrat governor, a Democrat-controlled Senate, and a Republican-controlled House of Representatives. The House has taken a second "break", paid of course, and can't even come to the table to try to work things out. The only thing they could agree on was the state fossil, and to pass continuing resolutions so state government could continue to operate. The big problem is that Oregon doesn't have a sales tax, so the only revenue is personal and corporate income taxes, along with user fees like hunting licenses and the like. With the economy as bad as it's been, income tax revenue is down. The major sticking point is school funding, as the state pays for a majority of K-12 funding (kindergarten through 12th grade). Not to mention funding for community colleges and universities. Until they can agree on school funding, they can't pass other budgets because they don't know what's left to spend.

If I thought I'd have a chance, and if I thought it wouldn't make me nuts, I'd actually consider running for office in the House as a Democrat. The reality is that the "good old boy" syndrome in politics and I would not work out. I'd simply call it like I see it, and piss people off. At least I am registered and I do vote. So I can bitch... LOL

My sister Donna has signed the papers for her first place of her own, a nice 2-bedroom condo in a nice complex. I know several folks who live there, and I know she will be happy there. And I'm very proud of her for taking this step. Meeting her there tomorrow morning to walk through and see what needs what.

Very good story...

This is too funny... there's a lesson in here somewhere...

She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases. On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things. On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight, put on some soft background music and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar and a bottle of Chardonnay.

When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp dipped in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.

When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days.

Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything - cleaning, mopping and airing the place out.

Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which time they had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting.

Nothing worked. People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit. Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.

A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out and eventually even the local realtors refused to return their calls.

Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.

The ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would her ex be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back. Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed and within the hour, his lawyers delivered the paperwork.

A week later, the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home... including the curtain rods.

This may be too deep.....

Fear has many expressions. For some folks, it often manifests as a need to be perfect... the perfect home, perfect children, perfect marriage, and a perfect body; and they usually want to always appear happy and optimistic. At the other end of the spectrum are those who self-sabotage in negative ways. They become delinquent, addicted, irresponsible, neglectful, or sexually promiscuous -- the people society and the religious right ostracizes, particularly when they pick up a disease like HIV. We look down on folks who are in the bar every weekend, or the one whose lives are utter chaos. Somewhere in the middle of these two extremes are folks who are simply indifferent. Unmotivated, uncaring, tuned out from the world… they live each day without hope or purpose: watching hours of TV, wasting endless time on the telephone, or chatting online with strangers. They distract themselves from their fears by vacating -- that is, they self-sabotage by doing nothing at all.

Although the behaviors of the perfectionist, the promiscuous, and the indifferent are contrary, the symptoms all come from the same source: feeling inadequate. Inadequacy drives many people to search for worth and validation. If, as children or young teenagers, they never felt pretty or handsome enough, smart enough, rich enough, tall enough, skinny enough, loved enough, or wanted enough, they may still be carrying that fear deep inside.

Many people will do anything to hide that fear from the world. This is what drives so many to become controlling. I'm reminded of a time, more than 12 years ago… I was devastated by a health diagnosis, and decided to talk to a very good friend. I was an emotional wreck, and broken hearted about my newly apparent shortened life, of which I’d lost complete control. She gently smiled at me and said, "You never had control of it to begin with." My friend spoke such words of wisdom.

The enormity of her words didn’t hit me at first. Over the years, I have realized the magnitude of that simple statement. We really don’t have any control over the final outcome of any situation. No matter how diligent we are, there will always be extenuating circumstances over which we have no control. We’ll never be able to please everybody and make everyone like us. We won’t be able to stop people from gossiping about us if they want to. Folks who talk about others and put others down must be so miserable in their own lives, they resort to mean spiritedness just to feel better about themselves. We can not change our mate, children, parents, or friends. And we’ll certainly never be able to stop natural disasters and diseases, so why do we kid ourselves into thinking that we could actually have control over anything? People are people, not perfect, not even close. I only know of one perfect person, and he gave his life for us a long time ago.

We must let go and choose to exert energy in the only areas that we do have control over: our own attitudes, moods, actions, and energy levels; what we say about others; how we view ourselves; what we put into our mouths; and what we choose to do with our bodies. The beautiful Serenity Prayer is one we should all live by:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

We need to love ourselves for all our frailties and imperfections, because, although things could be better, they could also be much worse; and in order for us to learn and grow, things are meant to be just the way they are for now. We need to love those who love us back in a healthy and giving way, and accept that we don’t always have to be right or perfect, or pretend that we’re happy when we’re not. Having flaws doesn’t mean that we’re flawed… but it does mean that we’re human.

Many of us learned unhealthy attitudes while growing up. If raised by overly strict parents, our lives were focused on following rigid rules. I discovered that by keeping quiet and stuffing my feelings down, my father and stepmother were somewhat appeased -- Dad focused on his beer, and my stepmother on Chivas Regal, Darvon and Librium. If were raised by neglectful parents who were rarely around, folks learned to fend for themselves out of necessity, growing up sooner than they should have had to. Something in the middle must be closer to proper parenting, and raising a healthy, well-adjusted, normal kid.

One way to break the cycle is by cultivating joy. Joy is different from happiness -- joy is something you are -- happiness is something you search for. Happiness comes from external events or experiences; therefore, you have little control over it. In other words, you can have it swept right out from under your feet. Joy can’t be bought or sold, and it absolutely can’t be found in a pound of chocolates or a tub of ice cream or a bottle of bourbon. It doesn’t come from someone telling you that you’re wonderful or beautiful -- it comes from within. It arises when you live in the moment, appreciate the simple things, give thanks for your blessings, and keeping your faith in the bad times. It stems from facing your fears and relinquishing control.

I know all too well how difficult this is to achieve all the time, and I’m sure that even the most serene people must occasionally feel anxious when life throws them a curve ball, but those folks have somehow mastered accepting those things they can’t control or fix. Their internal dialogue continually reinforces that they like who they are, and as long as they stay true to themselves, they’ll always be okay. This is authentic power, and it opens the door to joy. I’m envious of them, for I imagine their lives must have so much more meaning.

I continue to work on self-love -- not looking good for others, making lots of money, or having a perfect body. Self-love comes from acceptance, forgiveness, and faith. It’s having faith that, without question, you alone are enough, you’re worthy of love, and you’ll be fine with whatever comes your way.

Young children have an in-born faith. They don’t question whether things will work out; they know exactly what they want, who they are, and what they like. They never question themselves, and hopefully never doubt their parents love them. Have you ever seen a two-year-old having a temper tantrum? He doesn’t care who’s watching! It’s poor Mom standing in the grocery store who’s embarrassed and worried that people will think she’s a bad mother. Kids know exactly what they think: No one can tell them that their pink polka-dot shirt doesn’t match their blue striped skirt (some adults I know too), and they don’t worry about the designer label inside their jacket or even if their hair is combed. Children haven’t yet learned to deny their feelings or to numb them with one of society’s coping mechanisms. I’ve never heard of a three-year-old who needs a rum and Coke in his bottle to calm his nerves, although sadly I have heard of a parent doing such a thing for their own moment of calm.

The abundance of energy most kids have is natural and normal. They love to move their bodies, running, jumping, swinging, and climbing . . . feeling alive. And they should have that time to do so, as life can be so very short. Instead, our parents taught us to sit in front of the TV for hours and shut up, while they complained about life and adult matters. Children are taught these lessons very young -- and we learned them very well, too. It happened just around the time we began searching for acceptance and approval.

We stopped listening to our bodies and doing what we loved around the time we hit puberty. We were changing and growing into young adults, and the messages we heard from our parents and society were becoming a part our internal dialogue. As we grew, these attitudes intensified, and soon our self-worth was determined by external approval: the size of our bank account, home; or how popular we were. Still, we search for happiness from these things, oblivious to the fact that it can never come from someone or something outside ourselves. We’re constantly tempted by the distractions of the world as we struggle for validation and approval. Being an adolescent is tough enough… I can only imagine all the struggles teenagers and young adults go through these days. My youth was rough enough. More than 20 years later, society norms have changed dramatically.

Feeling the pain or stress of difficult times can be very hard, but it’s the most important lesson you can learn and a lesson I continue to study and work through. Of course, it’s easier said than done, but you have to accept that tough times are a part of life. Everybody’s on a roller-coaster ride, hoping to be up more than down. So know that every time you overcome your natural desire to reach for a coping mechanism such as cigarettes, alcohol, drugs or food, you become stronger in all ways: emotionally, physically, and mentally. Each time you discover why you’re responding defensively, sensitively, or aggressively, you’ll find yourself spending less and less time in the valleys, because you’ve learned how to pick yourself up and listen to your body’s true needs. You’ll respect and nurture yourself with love, refusing to find comfort with artificial means. Very soon, you’ll climb those mountains of life faster and easier, and you’ll realize that those bad habits no longer have a hold over you.

Question of the day...

Is Don obsessive-compulsive, anal-retentive, or just very thorough?

obsessive compulsive: [ ob sés sív kòm pul sív ] psychiatric condition of compulsive behavior: a psychiatric disorder characterized by obsessive thoughts and compulsive behavior, for example, continual washing of the hands prompted by a feeling of uncleanliness.

nope...

anal-retentive: [ áyn'l ri téntiv ] obsessively self-controlled; in Freudian theory, relating to adult personality traits, for example, obsessive neatness, stubbornness, and frugality, that are considered to have originated during or be characteristic of the anal stage of development.

getting closer... although I'm to sure about that "Freudian anal stage of development" part.

thorough: [ thúr ro ] extremely careful: extremely careful and accurate in doing something; done fully: complete in every detail and carried out with care; absolute: that is so to the fullest extent or in the truest sense of the word.

Is the Pope Catholic?

I think growing up in a military family with very controlling alcoholic parents got me to where I am today. The following statements are a good picture of me at times...

- Perfectionistic, driven, rarely satisfied
- Intimidated or easily angered around controlling people
- Lost in relationships by automatically putting others' needs first
- Hard to relax, laugh or be spontaneous
- Trouble finding a spiritual belief that feels right
- Expect others to hurt, judge, or take advantage
- Harsh "inner critics"
- Trouble asserting or feeling proud of accomplishments

So my life journey continues with education, working through those childhood issues, and making sense of who I am. And finding comfort and peace in who I am, and what I can contribute.

Day from hell...

Well my lack of sleep finally caught up with me... having stopped smoking for 14 days, and then having a backslide really fucked up my sleep. I laid down to go to sleep at 10pm last night, finally got up around 11pm and loaded the dishwasher. Went back to bed and started a meditation CD with nice, calming music. Listened to the hour long CD and still no sleep. Still awake at 3am.

Got up, and went out on the patio so the dogs could go potty. Laid back down and finally got to sleep. Ended up going in to work late. I barely remember calling in at 7:30.

Once I got to work, I called and left a message with my doctor's office. They called back and will phone in a prescription, so I'll pick it up after the board meeting. Supposed to help me sleep. God, I hope so. I feel like shit. And quitting smoking is supposed to make you feel better and be more healthy?

Loving Someone... Rules to Live By

Loving someone is no guarantee that one day that person won't leave. There is no choice in the matter. You must give your love freely, and without strings attached. If you go toward people always asking for guarantees or protection, you will make them feel that you don't trust them. In turn, they won't trust you. It's a vicious cycle, and the only way out is through giving your heart unconditionally.

The Eight Beatitudes

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall posses the land.
Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 5, verses 3-10

What's too bad is that the current leadership in Washington, DC, seems to have forgotten parts of the Bible they like to thump so often...

Talk about hitting a brick wall...

Well, it's been a struggle without cigs... today was the worst day yet. Considering I didn't get to sleep until after 2:30am and the alarm went off at 6:30am, it's been a day from hell. After spending over an hour on the phone this morning trying to see if I could get some help from either Regence Blue Cross, the benefit board, or the Stop Smoking Line, I was told that after two weeks, nicotine patches would make me sick to my stomach. Great, f-ing great. Meanwhile, I'm turning into the mean, nasty troll (no pun or truth intended) that lives down the hall. Talk about feeling like shit. So far, I've been able to maintain and not freak out on anyone... but I can feel it coming. The first dumb ass biyatch that walks into the office and says something stupid will get more than an ear full.

F U D G E ! as my stepmonster used to say...

instead of saying fuck. I need a back rub, a soak in a hot tub, and no more food. Time for sleep... I hope. Peace!

Back to work, and what a day...

I only had 189 emails to go through this morning, made worse by the fact that an IS guy reloaded my computer last Wednesday - while I was on vacation - and clobbered my work computer. These guys make a lot more money than I do, yet many folks at work think of the "Help Desk" as the "helpless desk". State bureaucracy at its finest. Thankfully, a different IS guy had backed up my computer, prior to the other IS guy reloading my computer.

So BIG THANKS to Tom!

It took 30 minutes to restore the hard drive after lunch, so I spent most of the afternoon sorting through my in box and through the emails. Today for the first time, however, I really missed my cigarettes. 12 days later, and with the computer mess and issues at work, I sure needed a cig. I started a walk this morning on break, and had gotten halfway down the sidewalk when I realized how hard it was raining, and the fact that my umbrella wasn't going to work. So I went back inside with a soaked sleeve. Damn Oregon anyway. And dam cigarettes too.

It was amusing to see the aftermath of the games played while I was on vacation by co-workers and the like. Like waiting until my first day off to raise a ruckus looking for a special check request, only to discover that it hadn't been faxed in the first place. Another co-worker tried to strong-arm my online security contact at our office supply company to no avail. The lovely thing about email... there is that trail to follow, and emails don't lie. But it does bum me out to realize that folks will stab you in the back the minute they don't think you're watching, or think you won't see what happens. Actually, it does more than bum me out... makes me a little sad.

It is somewhat amusing, although not at this moment, to realize that most of my friends at work are smokers. Which makes sense... birds of a feather flock together and all that crap. Most of the folks in accounting do smoke... which speaks volumes on workload issues and not having enough staff. And that many folks are pretty much stressed out a majority of the time. So I sit and wonder and try to make excuses and come up with reasons why I should smoke, none of which will hold water.

Thursday, June 2nd will be 2 weeks... 14 days... 336 hours... 20,160 minutes... 1,209,600 seconds... since the last cigarette. Actually, the last cigarette was roughly 11:30 something Thursday night, May 19th. Well shit, remembering that didn't help at all. Time for food.

Memorial Day and the end of vacation

Hard to believe vacation is over, and it's back to work tomorrow.  The weather has been great...  everything from record heat to rain showers.  Still lots of work to do in the yard, but at least I made some headway.  The house is another matter... lots of work to do inside, like the main bathroom... still not sure how I should fix the wall in there.  The front of the house (north side) needs a good cleaning, so I need to either buy a pressure washer, or at least go rent one.

 

Day 11 with no cigarettes.  Being off work was the way to do it, although it will be a challenge tomorrow to make it through the day.  Hopefully it will be a quiet day.  I can only imagine how many emails I have to wade through.

 

The reality is that I really do have it made, compared to other folks I know.  I just wish I could get that thought through my head and into my heart.  Believe it.  Know it to be true.  And move on.  Get on with life.  And make a difference.

Day 7 and all is well

Wow, I've made it to day 7 and already noticing a difference. Taste and smell has returned, but I really need to keep an eye on the appetite. Ravenous would be an accurate word to describe my food intake.

Apparently, ants love hoyas also. I have two Hoya carnosas in my south-facing window over the kitchen sink. One is all green, and the other has variegated leaves of green and cream, with the new leaves a light pink in color. The all green hoya has been blooming non stop since February, due to our warm and sunny dry winter. Also known as the porcelain or wax flower plant, the tiny flowers look like they're made out of wax, and smell wonderful. During the last week, however, sugar ants decided that they also like hoya blooms, so I'm gonna have to figure something out. The all green one has just taken off, and had literally grown in back of the oak kitchen cabinets... I pulled out multiple runners at least two - three feet long. Currently have five rooted in water ready to plant, not the mention the four I've already given away. And it's obviously time to cut back more of the runners. Hoyas are from the South Pacific from Northern Australia to China.




I also propagate Streptocarpus gardenii to share with friends. Also known as the Cape Primrose, the species is from South Africa. The variety pictured is Daisy Jane.

And you thought this would be an interesting read...

Beautiful day today...  sunny, breezy, and currently 72 degrees.  Front yard is mowed, and now taking a break to feed the animals.  Not sure if it's psychological or physiological, but it seemed easier to mow the yard today.  Could it be that after only 5 days of no cigarettes, this old body of mine is already reaping the benefits?  That would sure be cool.

 

The weather forecast keeps improving with even warmer temperatures for tomorrow and now lasting through Friday.  Weekend is now iffy with a chance of rain and temps in the 70s, but of course, this is a holiday weekend...  Memorial Day.  This is, after all, Oregon.  Pick a summer holiday, and it will rain.  Guaranteed.  Such is life in Oregon.

Tuesday Afternoon...

Well, here it is Tuesday, day 5 of no cigs and doing reasonably well. Took the Mazda to the mocha drive-through this morning, and of course the ashtray was full of dead cigarette butts.

Note to Don... clean car before taking it for a ride again.

Just beautiful weather this week... the weather forecast improves each day... tomorrow in the 80s and Thursday close to 90. Thankfully, when it gets warm in western Oregon, the humidity is always really low. The next two days will be perfect for laying out in the backyard with the sounds of ocean waves crashing on the shore courtesy an ocean sounds CD. I better get to mowing the front yard.

Monday, Monday...

A beautiful but cool day today, with the weather really improving.  Opened all the windows to air the house out.  I seemed to have lucked out on taking this week for vacation.  Last week we had mostly rain, this week sunny with highs expected in the 80s by the end of the week.  Gosh, I love the sunshine.  I bought one of those nice chaise lounges...  the kind hotels and apartment complexes have.  Costco had them on sale, so I had to get one for the patio.  Looking forward to using it later this week.

 

Day 4 of no cigs and I'm actually feeling better.  The headache seems to come and go...  must be all the extra oxygen I'm getting.  Definitely seeing my appetite increase, so some work in the yard tomorrow will be a good thing.  And already seeing the benefit of the teeth whitening.  I wear the tray at night...  I barely remember a really bizarre dream last night about the tray and having a cigarette.  No idea what happened.

 

There's the microwave, so din-din is ready.  Later on...

Day 2 1/2

So far, so good, except for the rotten headache that's going on.  I slept in yesterday, then met with Rebecca at Noon.  On the way home, I stopped at Buster's, the new BBQ place for lunch on south Commercial.  They say they're Texas-style BBQ.  Well, I know Texas-style BBQ, and Buster's isn't... just another wanna be.  Hell, they don't even have sweet tea.  When I got home, I laid down for a nap and slept until 8pm.

 

I understand why folks gain weight when they quit smoking.  After a good meal, a cigarette is like the final touch.  A signal that you've finished eating.  I could start eating now and not stop until later.  That trip through the Sizzler's salad bar is sounding better by the minute.  Maybe a nap is just the right thing for now.

Come What May

It's 12:30 in the freaking morning and I can't sleep so I'll write instead.  The mad ramblings of a nicotine-deprived person.  Now 25 hours since the last cigarette.  Already took 2 Benadryl, thinking they would make me sleepy.  Now, if anything, I'm feeling a little stoned, or at the very least, somewhat elevated off the floor.  If I was a drinking man, I'd make a Spanish Coffee which would do the trick...  but then I'd want a damn cigarette!  So I'll just keep writing.

 

You may have noticed that I upgraded to a regular blog.  I started off doing the blog in Notepad and coding the HTML, but I found this cool software that lets you blog on your own page.  I can actually send an email to a particular address and it gets posted automatically.  Pretty cool stuff.  So far it's been free, so I'm not sure what the catch is...  nothing in this world comes without a price.  Blogger was purchase by Google, so maybe it's just something cool Google is supporting.

 

Okay, it's time for sleep.

 

4 Hours later...

God, I want a cigarette.  My brain is telling me to just have one, and that's all.

 

ut-sha up-a, ain-bra

 

It's either a cigarette or a 1/2 gallon of lactose-free ice cream, which will still put me in the john for most of the night.  Must be all the sugar.  Maybe I can just sleep through all of this.  Maybe I should go for a walk, and take the dogs along with.  Later...

 

So far, so good...

Here it is at 4:30pm and no cigarettes today.  I've stayed busy today, at least as much as possible, and am doing alright.  I would love a couple of trips through a Sizzler's food bar, followed by 2 or 3 deserts.

 

Met my wonderful friend Judy, aka Momma-san, for coffee this morning.  She and I used to work together...  twice...  and has been a wonderful friend.  She retired from state service a couple of years ago, and now lives in Boise.  It was great to see her, and I got a couple of pictures of us together.  Since my new truck was from California, I then went to the Oregon DMV so they could inspect the VIN number. That took all of 5 minutes.  Then a stop by Subway, followed by a trip to the dentist to start the teeth whitening process.  Now I'm sitting here at home, waiting to meet my sister and our friend Dian Lewis with Coldwell Banker, for a walk through of Donna's new condo.  Weather has been weird today, as we've had a couple of hellacious thunderstorms roll through.  Looking forward to warmer sunny weather beginning tomorrow through most of next week.

The countdown is now...

Well, I have one more cigarette left in my pack... and the anxiety has already arrived. The fear of waking up tomorrow morning and not being able to reach for that "wake me up" smoke is really making me a little nuts.

Well, make that no cigarettes left in my pack. Lord, give me strength. Deep breathing, bubble gum, and lots of low calorie snacks are just gonna have to work. I'm heading to bed before I get in the truck and drive to the store. Peace!

Go Live in 2005!

Today was the "go live" day for our contracts and purchasing folks... thankfully, it went very well. We're definately running it right down to the wire, as all users must be moved over to the new version by June 30th. I look forward to the day when we can just do our work and see how the new system runs. I'm still working in the old system for some parts of my job, but that too will be moved over. I'm looking forward to some system testing next month, after vacation is over.

When I started in accounting, I had to learn both systems. The older version, aka "green screens", was mainframe based, while the update is client server based, and uses internet screens and java scripting to operate. There have been some fun times, betwen the JAS server gagging, folks not wanting to get with the program and learn and use the new system, plus some good ol fashioned generalized bitchin about change.

Counting down the hours....

And the countdown is on... both for my vacation and stopping smoking. Already removed all the ashtrays and now only smoke outside. I was smoking not quite a pack a day. One reward is Friday afternoon, when I go back to the dentist to start the teeth whitening process. I look at it as both a reward and insurance... a reward in being a good thing to have nice pearly whites, and as in insurance because I won't smoke if I've paid $275 to have my teeth whitened. Such is Don... reward and insurance.

My sister signed the papers on her condo offer today which is a really wonderful thing. We've both been through a lot, and caring for Dad and all the legal crap we had to go through was more than I want to or will explain here. Suffice it to say... MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A F-ING WILL!!! It will save your family tons of work and heartache. I remember holding my Father's hand when he was passing, telling him it was okay, and that we would be okay. And that I would watch out for Donna and make sure she was okay. It sounds a little melodramatic to remember that time now, but it was true and something I'm determined to do. My sister is pretty dog-gone cool. The first time I met her (I didn't know I had an older sister until I was almost 10) it was the summer of 1970. She lived in San Diego, had a cute dark green Toyota Corolla, a little Sony portable black and white TV (remember the commercials... a Sony of my owny?), and had red Close Up toothpaste. Hell, I didn't even know there was toothpaste other than Crest. She was cool then, and even cooler now.

Friday the 13th

It's Friday after work 8pm-ish, and it's been one hell of a week. Of course, being Friday the 13th didn't help. Thankfully, our accounting system ran fine with no problems. I stayed busy all day long, working on emails for online security access. My hands are actually sore from all the typing. Got my desk pretty much caught up, with another 20 or so emails to handle, so I'll spend next week - a short 4-day week - taking care of emails as they come in, plus processing any incoming A/P invoices. Just 4 more days and I'm gone from work until Tuesday the 31st. And the rain has started... a rare-for-this-area thunderstorm moving up the valley from the south. Tomorrow I'm going with my sister to Lowe's to look at drop-in ranges and washer/dryers. She's put an offer on a condo where several folks I know live. I hope she gets it... she's an awesome sister and deserves only the very best. And I'm gonna make sure that's what she gets.

A bargain for me...

The guy from Autoland called me at work this morning... he starts the conversation... "well, I've got bad news and good news." I ask "So, you want the truck back?" He laughed and said no. The loan documents were clobbered by the printer or computer, so he needed me to come back in to sign the loan documents again. So I asked if that was the bad or the good news. He laughed again and said that was the bad news, because when the credit union ran the loan documents again, my credit had somehow improved in a week's time and my loan interest rate had dropped more than 2 points. So my payment is even less than I'd budgeted for. How cool is that?

I got home from work and started mowing the yard. Finished at 9:20pm... yes, in the dark. LOL Our damn weather has been so weird... first it was a warm and very dry winter, now we're getting all the storms and rain we normally get in the winter. Supposed to rain beginning tomorrow evening through next Friday, with a big storm coming in Wednesday with high winds. I had to get the yard mowed... the grass was past my knees in the backyard. What a freaking mess!!!

My baby's here

The call came in at work around 10:30am to tell me my truck was on the way. Unfortunately, just as they were exiting I-5 at the Market Street exit here in town, a truck in front of the driver threw a rock and crack went the windshield on my new baby. Took my lunch late at 1:00pm, and got a ride to the credit union. And there she was... my beautiful new baby! The guy was already there replacing the windshield, so I went in and started signing the paperwork and loan documents. We weren't even finished when the guy walked in and handed us the keys.

The truck is even nicer than I'd hoped for. The camper shell, or canopy, or topper (depending on where you live) is a really nice one with gray carpeting attached for insulation. The interior is perfect, and it has not been smoked in. There's more room that I realized in back of the seats in the extended cab area. The third door is awesome. I know the dogs are going to love going for a ride now. Still has another year on the manufacturer's warranty. I purchased an extended warranty (6-years, 60,000 miles) so it's covered until the year 2011 or 77,527 miles. It rides and drives very well, and the first CD I played was Coldplay's "A Rush of Blood to the Head". Very, very cool. Yes, it's a guy thing.

Where's my baby?

Today was supposed to be the day when the new addition arrived, but the new transport company Autoland uses was delayed... so now I'm waiting for tomorrow. Autoland is a car brokerage service that works with credit unions. You can walk into a credit union, tell the person what you're looking for - new or used - and they get to work. The person I worked with called me the following morning with just what I was looking for.

Friday at last

It was sure "a week" at work. Finally able to complete two major projects, one of which I'd tried to work on over a year ago. At the time my emails were ignored, but now that the biennium is almost over, it became an issue. Funny how time (or the lack of time) can motivate folks. The other issue was one of the non-payment of certain bills, which affected numerous cost centers and budgets. Also funny how someone - who used to work where I work - and who was supposed to pay the above mentioned bills, got to leave to go to another job, no harm - no foul, and move on, leaving one hell of a mess to clean up in her wake. That's me... Mr. Fix-It. Mr. Clean-Up. Thank God it's Friday. By the way, you'll see me say Thank God it's Friday often... and I'm still waiting for next Tuesday.

Still here...

Well, here it is 12 years later and I'm still here... and my wonderful Mazda is still running, although showing it's 16 years of age and 145,800 miles. I've wanted a truck for a long while, and actually hoped I'd be able to buy my Dad's pickup from the estate when he passed - a 1992 Dodge Dakota that had just over 23,000 miles with the original tires. But the rotten witch of a caregiver got Dad to sign his truck over to her for $1 without telling my sister or I about it. No, I'm not bitter... just very disappointed.

When I got the Mazda, I assumed it would be the last car I ever owned. At the time, I was actually fearful of not being able to work long enough to pay it off. But thanks to the miracles of science and modern medicine... actually, thanks to some unknown medical research technician working late into the night (my glorified Lifetime made-for-TV movie version!) I'm still here. Similar to the way I finally got my courage up to use my VA loan to buy my wonderful home, I visited the credit union, thinking all they could say was no. But they didn't... and next Tuesday after work, a co-worker friend is dropping me off at the credit union to pickup my new baby... a 2003 GMC Sonoma Extended Cab (with a 3rd door!) new-to-me Pickup, already with a camper shell. 4-speed automatic, 2.2 liter 4-banger, 17,467 miles, and another milestone in my so called life. And Helen at First Technology Credit Union... You Rock!

The headache that wouldn't die

Had a ultra-quiet weekend... rotten headache that started Saturday lasted through most of Sunday. I was supposed to go to breakfast with my sister Sunday morning, but cancelled. Just wasn't up to it, and wanted to sleep through the headache, which kind of worked. Doc appointment this morning in Portland, so I left the house at 7:15 to get there by 8:40. Actually made good time and was 10 minutes early. It's the damn commuter traffic that I hit when I-205 runs into I-5 north of Wilsonville. Five lanes of traffic and it all slows to a crawl. The drive home only takes 50 minutes or so with the cruise control set at 72. Had to fast this time for lab work... last time my triglycerides were over 1200, primarily due to the meds. So I get to run 10-30 weight instead of plasma.

My doc wrote me all new prescriptions, so I could move all my scripts to Walgreens, which is just down the road, open 24/7, plus I can request refills via the Internet. Tired and fed up with the current pharmacy... I use my debit card to pay, and they sometimes take as much as two weeks to deduct the money, and 2 times now they've deducted the money twice, which is really a pain in the ass when it's a week before payday. They are very nice folks at the current pharmacy, but small town pharmacies really need to get with the program... it's called the 20th century. And Don's surfing the technology wave as fast and as far and as long as he can... :)

Looking forward to vacation later this month. I took Friday, May 20th off, plus the following week. Which means a 3-day weekend, 5 days off, and then another 3-day weekend (Memorial Day). Friday, May 20th, is the stop smoking day... there was no way I could quit smoking and work too... I'd be too much of a shit to work with. Hopefully the weather will be nice, and I can take my frustrations out on the backyard with the electric hedge trimmers. I really need to quit... period. And am pretty much a dumb ass for continuing to smoke.

T G I F

Work was crazier than hell today, which has become the "norm" over the past several months. I sure wish two great coworkers and friends - Michelle and Tami - were still part of the office. They had the same work ethics and beliefs that I hold very dear. After they left, things have gone downhill. Actually, in the year and a half that I've been there, we've had at least a 50% turnover in staff. Too much work, and not enough folks to handle it. I seem to get involved in cleaning up messes other people leave, like clearing up past due invoices that haven't been paid, or auditing an accounts payable account back to 7/1/2003.

At the same time, it's a good thing, because I really enjoy what I'm doing, where I'm working, and who I'm working with. It's a 10 minute commute to and from work... maybe 3 miles each way. I work in the "Dome Building", which is part of the State Hospital grounds, although I work for another state agency who leases the building for $1 a year, plus all of the building repairs. When you're talking about a building started in 1910, and finished in 1912, there are a lot of repairs! If you watch the movie "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest", look for the scene where all the nurses are lined up on a circular staircase... I take those stairs as many as 8 times a day. It's a cool building, and I love my little office. Glad tomorrow is Friday...

Over the last several years, I've posted contact information on adoption pages in Virginia, hoping to learn more about my birthmother. The information below is a letter from the Department of Public Welfare, York County, Yorktown, Virginia, containing "non-identifying" information:

"Donald was born in Norfolk, Virginia, (on a particular day in the very early 1960s), a full-term baby, and the mother was in labor only five hours. It was a spontaneous delivery and the complications of labor and delivery were uneventful and there were no complications during pregnancy. Donald weighed 7 lbs, 3 1/2 oz. at birth. Donald was a beautiful, healthy baby. He ate and slept well and was given splendid care.

Donald's natural mother was a quiet, gentle girl of 20 years at the time of his birth. She is a slender girl, 5'5" with olive complexion, large brown eyes and long dark hair. She is very pretty and attractive. She likes dancing and skating, is a high school graduate and at the time she became pregnant, she was employed as a switchboard operator.

The natural father was 27 years of age, of medium build with dark hair and eyes. He was a married man with a family. He came to this area looking for employment and he met the natural mother at a skating rink. He promised to marry her and it was not until after she became pregnant that she learned that he was already married. He soon left the community and his whereabouts is unknown.

No information was available on the paternal grandparents and Donald's mother knew nothing about the family background.

The natural mother had the usual childhood diseases and at the time Donald was born, she was in excellent health. She found it difficult to make the decision to place her baby for adoption, but after much consideration it was her feeling that her child should have both a mother and a father who would offer him not only love but every opportunity for advancement and development.

When Donald was three months old, he was seen by a clinical psychologist for an evaluation for adoptive purposes. He was said to be "a well-developed attractive baby who is al least average in his development and more likely somewhat accelerated. In addition to his physical and mental development, he appears to be emotionally well adjusted."

Thanks to the help of a wonderful person, an "adoption angel" named Kim, who, along with other adoption angels across the country, help folks by visiting county court houses and looking through legal documents that are public records, I found out my birthname on this day... Donald Edward Waltrip.

I'd always known that my birthmother had named me Donald, and that I had been adopted at 5 months. The feelings that I experienced that day are more than I can explain here... just know it was a day I will not forget. Suffice it to say... it just sounded right. And had a nice "Virginia" sound to it.