Really, Universe?

My poor midget...Type 1 Diabetes??? In the latest Lifetime movie of the week twist in my life, my sweet (haha, bad pun..) midget has been diagnosed as a Type 1 diabetic. We are in the hospital learning how to test blood sugars and give shots.

Thankfully, I tend to overreact rather than underreact, so I caught that something was wrong before she got seriously ill. Her numbers are high, and not at all under control and won't be for a few more weeks at least, but she's nowhere near as sick as she could be or as sick most kids are at diagnosis. She's the toughest, bravest, most amazing kid, and I'm so damn proud of her.

As a parent, it's damn important to trust that voice in the back of your head that says, "Hey, something's not right." Don't feel like a freak if you're worried about your kid and you want to get something checked out. It is so much better to be the neurotic Mom who worries too much than the Mom who wishes she'd listened to her gut...

Insomnia Plus Sick Kid Equals Bad Day...

I had great plans for today. Was going to do some baking, some cleaning and take some pictures. But between my own insomnia and the midget's coughing keeping her up all night, I'm having a very rough day. Everything hurts, I'm tired and swollen and basically having a crappy, crappy day.

This Grudge...

I'm finally going through all my old music and putting it on this computer...making ringtones for my new phone and I came across this song I haven't listened to in ages, but have always loved. Tonight, it strikes a deeper chord in me than I can ever remember. I wish I just knew how to let go and forgive. My anger may be justified but it's only serving to gnaw at my happiness, the throbbing ache that nags at the edges of my otherwise contented life...



"Who's still aching now/Who's tired of her own voice/Who's it weighing down/With no gift from time of said healing"

HNT...Please Excuse The Farmer's Tan...

The midget's softball season started a week and a half ago and I got a bit too much sun on my arms because it was the first really nice day we'd had in a long time, and I was too busy enjoying the sun to bother with pesky things like sunblock and umbrellas.

So, I know I missed a Thursday or two, but I have given it up...and here's this week picture. As you can see, I have exactly two skin colors to my name: white and red.

Thank You, Bloggess, For Saying It Better Than I Ever Could

Like so many people who believe in equality for all, I've been following the story of the girl whose school cancelled the prom rather than allow her to attend with her girlfriend. The latest chapter in this ugly, hate-filled saga can be found here.

Now, go read what The Bloggess has to say. And say a little prayer to whatever powers you believe in for all the gay kids without Constance's ability to believe in herself and face down the people who are showering her with hatred. You know that there are kids who are gay, who don't know it, or can't admit it yet, attending that school, and likely attending the other prom, and the scars they will bear from this will never leave them.

And then...if you have time or money and are looking for a worthy cause to support...go here. Gay teens are at a higher risk of suicide than any other demographic.

As If She Wasn't Hot Enough Already...

Anna Paquin. Can I just say "Yowza!" and also, "Yum"? I love, love, love her. I'm more than mildly obsessed with True Blood, and for once, I actually like the Hollywood version of a character better than the book version of the character.

Then, today...I see this tweet from the utterly fabulous Mistress Matisse that Anna Paquin has come out as bisexual. Okay, seriously? Between her and her costar (and fiance) Stephen Moyer, I may not be able to watch without hyperventilating.

I'm sort of amazed at the announcement, especially as she's not been a media whore kind of celebrity, and being engaged to a MAN, she didn't really have to acknowledge her orientation, not that anyone has to, but it wasn't like she had to hide her relationship.

I can't think of anyone other celebrity, with the exception of Sandra Bernhardt, who has made an announcement that they were bisexual, and it makes me very happy indeed. I've discussed before the difficulties inherent in being bisexual, how you belong fully to neither the gay or straight communities, and how you hear a lot of "Make up your mind" or "It's just a phase" or "You're a slut" kind of nonsense when you identify as bisexual.

And On a Darker Note...

I've been absent from the blog for the last week. Obviously. Every time I would start a post, the words would stop and the fog that obscures my brain would take over and that nagging voice, the one that I can't turn off, the one that follows me around telling me how I can't do things, that I'm stupid and no one wants to read what I have to say, that voice takes over and when I'm that tired and the fog is weighing me down anyway, it's easier to give in and give up. I'm not proud of that, and that gives the voice strength, too.

See, what I don't talk about a lot is that in addition to my myriad physical issues, I'm also bipolar. And when I'm manic and up and laughing and talking any my brain is working full speed ahead, it's awesome. But, when I'm not manic...well...not awesome doesn't remotely begin to cover it. And hypothyroidism, fibromyalgia, hormonal imbalances and bipolar disorder are like this evil gang of square dancers that have their choreography down to a science. Any one of them can trigger a flare in one or all of the others. But, when the physical stuff sucks, at least my brain still works and I can laugh and talk and still be, essentially, me. The depression, though...that's a whole other animal, and it weighs me down and turns me into a zombie, and suddenly I'll realize that three days have passed and I've been on autopilot.

I did too much this weekend. The weather was beautiful, the midget had a softball game, there was family stuff going on, my little sister who I miss dreadfully, was staying with me...it was good. And then my body said...Whoa, there...hold on...this is too much fun and too much activity and the hour you spent in the sun is going to combine with all of the energy expenditures and every cell in your body is going to scream in agony and breathing is going to become so exhausting that it makes you want to cry, and then when you try to sleep you're going to have a panic attack because you're having tachycardia. And all of that slams me into depression faster than you can imagine.

I don't like to talk about it much. It sucks and it's sad and it just drags people down. And that voice, that voice that I can't shut out, is really good at convincing me that I'm alone, a freak...that everyone else is normal and no one will understand, so why even bother trying to tell them about it. And so I hide in my house, cobbling together what little bit of energy I can muster so the midget gets to and from school and gets dinner and clean clothes and homework help, and I stagnate and cry and then...I start to feel a bit better. Maybe I don't hurt so much, or I get a little sleep. And then I'll read something on one of my favorite blogs...usually The Bloggess (someone who actually gets the depression/anxiety thing and laughs about it) or see a good show, find a good book...something...and I'll the depression lifts a bit. And then bit by bit, it gets brighter. For awhile.

I'm surfacing right now, and starting to recover. Thankfully it's only been a day or two this time. I still hurt and I'm still exhausted, but the depression is lifting, thankfully.

Black and White HNT

Taking pictures of one's self is not as easy as you may think. I mean there are easy shots: feet, arms, hands, etc... And there's the self-timer, which I need to practice with a bit more, but getting anything else is difficult. I set out this evening to get some hip shots, but it just wasn't happening, but I love this long leg shot I got, so I guess it worked out.

Why I Love to Cook

Last night I had an urge for banana bread, and an hour later there was banana bread in my kitchen. Not instant gratification, no...but good enough, especially since I get it warm and soft right out of the oven...and bonus: my house smells like banana bread all night.

I had been perusing food blogs, as I tend to do...if it's not food blogs, it's sex blogs...but that's another story, and perhaps another blog. I came across a recipe for breakfast pizza that looked interesting, except that having breakfast pizza would involve me being up early in the morning, which I had no intentions of doing since it is, after all, the midget's spring break and I am going to take every opportunity to sleep in.

So, instead we had pizza for lunch, and the only thing it had in common with the recipe that inspired me was bacon. I ended up with this lovely pizza....



First, I sprinkled some drained diced tomatoes, followed that up with feta cheese and Parmesan cheese. Then I broke out the artichoke hearts (YUM) and broke up the bacon I had just fried up and sprinkled that on, threw some more tomatoes on and added a bit more Parmesan cheese. Oh. My. God. So good. The only thing I think I'd change if I did it again is to add some diced garlic, because garlic makes everything better.

I had some left over bacon and there were these two dogs...well, could you resist this?


It would take a stronger woman than I to resist those faces...and they were so sweet about it...but, then the bacon got the better of Ellwood and he completely forgot his manners...


Charlie, however, behaved like a complete gentleman...


My dogs love that I can cook, too...

That's MY Cookie

Warning...the following picture is so cute, it may hurt...



Now, normally, when the boys get a cookie, Charlie scarfs his on the spot, and Ellwood does a victory lap around the house, grunting all the way, and then settles down to gnaw on his. Today, for some reason, after his victory lap, Ellwood laid down and basked in the glory that was his cookie. Charlie, having already devoured his, came to investigate whether Ellwood had left any crumbs he could steal. When Charlie spied the while, uneaten cookie, he tried to steal it, which wasn't at all surprising. What was surprising was Ellwood's insistence that he wasn't giving up his cookie. Not only did he not just walk away from it, he actually barked. Barked. At Charlie. I'm not sure who was more shocked, me or Charlie. Charlie, attempted his theft again, and AGAIN Ellwood barked.

Charlie was so bewildered that he backed off and laid down on the floor below where I was sitting on the couch. Ellwood went back to loving his cookie. He eventually scarfed it down, but the two of them stayed like this for about a half an hour...



Charlie looks so forlorn. Who knew Ellwood knew how to stand up for himself?

Taking Advantage...

I think I've mentioned my longing for spring. It's been ridiculously cold here. I know, I know, those of you in higher latitudes are laughing. I mean, 0 C is nothing to you, but to us California girls, it's painful. Cold to me is anything under 55 F...

We had one day this week when the sun shone and it was 60 Fahrenheit. I reveled in it. The midget was at her softball clinic, so I grabbed my camera and headed outdoors. And though it was still vaguely chilly, the sun felt amazing...Of course, the sun didn't last long and we had snow (SNOW! AGAIN!) a few days later, but at least I had that one glorious day of sunshine.

This was my first time using my timer on my camera to take self portraits. It was tricky, and I got a lot of awkward face shots and being as ridiculously pale as I am, many of the pictures were pretty washed out.

I loved the way this one turned out, though...especially the sun on my hair. And though you can't see it, there's a horse in the tress trying to figure out what the strange human is doing...

Happy Thursday, everyone...And here's hoping the sun is shining in your corner of the universe!!

"The Happiest Days...

...are when babies come." Melanie Wilkes says that to Rhett Butler on the day Scarlett O'Hara gives birth to his baby. And for all that it may be the most well-worn platitude ever uttered, it is also 100%, irrefutably true.


I finally got to meet this little angel...my newest "niece" (okay, okay, really she's my cousin's daughter, but as I've mentioned before, we don't make those distinctions).

Now, I'll admit, when I first heard, some 10 months ago, about this bebe's impending arrival, I did not exactly jump for joy. In fact, my first thoughts were colored by anger, by fear, and by a deep sorrow. I believed, and still kind of believe, that her mother, my beloved cousin, wasn't really in any position to be having this baby. She's older than I was, certainly, when I had my "whoops" that led to my precious little midget, but her life is a bit of a mess. Without going into too many details, it just wasn't a good situation, a sentiment shared by many in my family. So, while we're a close knit group and love children, we found it hard to get excited about this birth, and given that my cousin's pregnancy was high risk, we were all nervous about the outcome...so, unlike all our previous babies, we weren't excited, we just couldn't be...We wanted to be, but it just wasn't happening.

Time passed, as it inevitably does. We had a baby shower (which I missed, thank you FM). And this baby came early...and was tiny...She was in the hospital for several days due to her teeny size. She's been in and out of the hospital for the last two months, suffering from various ailments. She's still tiny, at two months, she's smaller than my midget was at birth, though, admittedly my midget was a giant baby, nearly 10 pounds.

Finally, finally...she was healthy enough to come and meet us, her crazy, extended family. And despite my fears for her mother, my concerns about her health, it was lovely and amazing to see the joy on her cousin's faces as they each took it in turn to hold her tiny body in their laps. It was joyful and funny and silly to watch as her cousin accidentally made her smack herself in the face, a precursor of things to come for the youngest in this horde of monster children, I fear.

So, though I am still nervous about the future for this baby, I am reminded that my situation, when my little midget was born, was not too promising, either, and yet, she is a lovely, amazing girl on the edge of teenage angst who has had a lovely, amazing life due to all the wonderful people who love her, namely of course, my insane extended family. And so, perhaps there is less to be worried about, and more to be happy about. Because, this certainly was a happy, happy day.

Welcome to the madhouse, sweet girl, we are so happy to meet you.

Spring Fever...

I have it...I have it bad...

It's a gorgeous sunny day. Okay, so it's only 60 degrees, but don't bother me with details. It's brightly sunny and I'm supposed to be doing my cooking chores...getting breakfast burritos made and frozen, making some challah, but all I can think about is the sunshine and the way the grass would feel on my bare toes. I am so ready for the end of winter. I'm ready for capri pants and sandals and tank tops...

I think I'm going to head outside with my camera and see if I can't get a good shot or two for my HNT post this week. Meanwhile...here's a little music, something that's in pretty much constant rotation on my iPod...

Fantastic Shoes, Right?

Here's this week's HNT submission. I love, love, love these shoes. They're devilishly hard to walk in, but I'm definitely working on it. I've got another fabulous pair in hot pink that I'm wearing to my brother's wedding in May, but I like these better.

Geek Squad, Schmeek Squad...

Ack...so they replacement cord for my laptop MELTED...and now I can't charge my laptop at all, even when I tried to use my sister's brand new universal cord. I'm off to Folsom this morning to get it fixed, which will likely mean them sending it off for repairs and I'll be without my laptop for another month. Since October, they've had it more than I have and I am beyond frustrated. Of course, this latest issue happened just after my warranty expired, which means they're going to try and get me to pay for any repairs that need to be made, which means I will scream at the top of my lungs about what asshats they are and how if they'd fixed everything correctly the first time and hadn't had my laptop for three out of the last five months, my warranty wouldn't have expired before this happened.

I'm also going to Target and Old Navy to buy clothes for the midget. She refuses to quit growing and doesn't seem to care that I'm too poor to replace her wardrobe every three months.

What the Fuck?

Okay, so it's another sleepless night for the Queen of the Universe, and I'm watching late night tv and there was nothing else worth watching, so I settled on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I don't normally watch this show, because the families always make me cry, but there was literally nothing else besides footage of the earthquake in Chile.

So, the episode I'm watching is this one. This kid, Garrett Yazzie, who asked the show to help his family...this kid blows my mind. Not just because of the selflessness with which he devotes himself to his family, but because of the reason they decided to help the family.

You see, Garrett's family is Navajo and they live on the reservation, in a trailer that was falling down around their ears. They were heating their home with coal or wood, but his younger sister has asthma and the fire was making her sick. So, this kid, this junior high school kid goes out to the junk yard and with nothing but his hands, his brain and crap he finds in the junk yard...namely soda bottles and an old radiator...this kid builds a solar powered water-heater that also heats his house.

And this is where the "What the Fuck" comes in...because this kid...he's a kid, you know? A junior high school kid with no fucking education can build a solar powered heating system out of trash. We have fucking scientist and government agencies supposedly devoted to this shit, and it's "too expensive" and real change is "years away." It's fucking bullshit. If a teenage kid can do it, why the fuck can't our government get their shit together and figure it out?

Body Image, Bravery and HNT

I have struggled with body image issues my entire life. I don't remember a time when I didn't hate my body, whether it was my freckles, my hair, my pallid skin, my body size or shape...none of it ever pleased me. I never looked in the mirror and thought good thoughts. Like so many other girls, I have never been able to look in the mirror or at pictures of myself and not tear to pieces what I saw there. No matter what cruel things have been said to me by various people at various times, I have always been the person who treated myself the worst.

I am a recovered(ing?) bulimic. It's been awhile since I purged, but rarely a week goes by without the compulsion rearing it's ugly head. It's a compulsion like nothing else I've ever felt. But, now, there is always in my mind that beautiful young girl I'm raising, and the idea that I could relapse and she could find out about that relapse is a pretty decent defense. It gives me more strength than I'd ever have on my own. Because, you see, as a mother of a young girl, I am painfully aware of negative body image and the effect that media has on a young girl. I try really hard to make sure she knows that she's beautiful, that she's perfect the way she is. I try to help her love who she is and the body that contains who she is. But I am just one tiny voice, and the media is everywhere, telling her in subtle and blatant ways that she is not good enough, that she will never be good enough. And the idea that she could hate herself the way I have always hated myself sickens me in a way I cannot ever describe.

Just recently, she had an assignment for school and she had to do a project about her biggest hero. To my utter delight and surprise, she chose me. She wanted to talk about how smart I am and how I deal with being sick and how I'm still a good mom despite that. And, wow, nothing in the world makes you want to be a better person than the realization that your child admires you...you want to feel like you deserve that admiration. So, we had an evening where we went through my old Academic Decathlon stuff, and pictures of me and we talked about me. Which was...disconcerting. I mean, certain things I love to talk about, like Academic Decathlon, and my friends and things I like to read and basically anything dealing with my intelligence, of which I have an inordinate amount of pride (or vanity). But when she asked me why there are hardly any pictures of me, I had a hard time coming up with a good answer. How do you tell your child that you hate yourself? You can't. Not if you are a halfway sane and decent parent. So, I stuttered about and made excuses about always being the one taking the pictures, which she called me on because I never let her take my picture. So, I made some more lame excuses and changed the subject.

But, later on, and over the past few weeks, it's been gnawing at me. The best way to lead is by example, right? Because that whole "Do as I say, not as I do" thing is ridiculously ineffective. And I want to keep her respect, and being a hypocrite isn't the best way to do that, I think.

I was reading one of my favorite blogs last week, and the writer had posted her HNT picture. For those you who are unfamiliar with HNT, it stands for Half-Nekkid Thursday. You can read about it here. HNT is different things to different people. For some, it is an opportunity to let out their inner exhibitionist, for others, it's about the art and for still others it's about bravery. But, the basic idea is to celebrate the human body, in all it's wildly imperfect perfection. HNT is not pornography nor is it about sex, though, of course, given the subject matter, many HNT pictures are sexy or provocative. But, they can also be silly or sad, serious or light hearted.

I've been looking at HNT pictures for a long time, as I do truly admire the human body, and yeah, some of the bloggers I look at regularly I find attractive, but that's not why I keep reading their blogs. They have substance, or their pictures are beautifully artistic or they give good photography tips. So, I've been sort of ruminating and I've decided to begin HNT here on my blog. I'm hoping that by forcing myself to take pictures of myself, I will have to look at my body through different eyes. Not hating, loathing eyes, but objective eyes. I'm hoping to gain acceptance of myself, and then.....love...and wow, does that sound awfully corny to my cynical mind.

Obviously, I'm aware that since some of my readers (most, actually) know me in real life, this is sort of a pretty big minefield to navigate. Americans are incredibly prudish and while it's totally okay to look at pictures of people we don't know, looking at naked pictures of our friends and family members is a huge taboo. But, even though I'm embarking on this learn to love my body project, I'm not looking to change my basic personality, so you aren't going to see something vulgar or horrifying. I mean, my mother reads this blog, as do other family members, and there's a contingent who know about and read this blog in what I feel is an attempt to find things to use against me. So, while you're going to see more of me than you ever have, you're not going to be seeing anything R rated, let alone X rated.

I thought about starting a different blog, or just posting on one of the many sites that allows random posting of HNT pictures, but I rejected that idea almost immediately. First of all, I post here erratically enough as it is, splitting my posting energy between this blog and another blog is unrealistic and would lead to the demise of both pretty quickly. Secondly, starting a new blog would mean having a blog with zero readership, so there would be no accountability. And, I really think this is important for me. It will be good for me to in that making this commitment guarantees that I blog at least once a week, but I think it'll actually lead to me blogging more than that, because I'm going to not want it to be all about HNT, so I'm going to be forcing myself to blog on other days about other things.

I took this picture in bathroom mirror. My bathroom has the best lighting of any room in the house, and since I'm new to this, I wanted to keep it simple, so I didn't want to try to set up a scene and use the timer function on my camera, though another perk of this project is that it's going to push me to be a better photographer.

Without further ado...Welcome to the first edition of the Queen of the Universe's Half-Nekked Thursday...

It All Comes Back 'Round Again...

My younger sister mentioned this song the other day on Facebook, flashing back to a whole other time in our lives, and it's been on pretty much constant rotation on my iPod since.

Back in the day, this was just a fun song to sing at the top of our lungs over and over again while a friend played it on the guitar. Good times, great memories...now, it's got another layer of meaning for me since the exgirlfriend was one of those singing along and things ended so spectacularly badly between us, but I kinda like that. I love when something familiar takes on new meaning...

This is the only version I could find to post, and it's edited, which kinda sucks, but that doesn't mean you can't scream "you fuck" at the appropriate moment. I highly recommend it, it's very therapeutic.

I Can't Decide If This Is Sad or Funny

Why The Queen of the Universe Should Really Learn To Read Labels

So, the other night, when this cold kicked in, I was coughing up a lung and in an effort to keep from dislocating something I went looking for cough syrup, and when I found some in my medicine cabinet, I did a happy dance (which caused another coughing fit....idiot) and promptly dosed myself, then went back to bed where I waited for the coughing to subside so I could get my three hours of sleep. The coughing kinda slowed, but sleep eluded me...also I started to get the urge to organize my kitchen, at like 3 am. At which point, I went back and read the label on the cough syrup, and there, in bright bold letters it said...Non-Drowsy formula. So, I read the ingredients and there it was...ephedrine. Shit...

See, I have no thyroid, and I take thyroid hormone replacement, and one of the first things you learn when you are taking thyroid meds is that all the good cold medicines, you know, the ones that contain ephedrine that make it so you can breathe and all that are kind of off limits. So, I haven't had any ephedrine in years. It was like someone shot speed straight into my nonexistent veins. So, there I was at 3 am with a racing brain and weak and tired body, feeling very spacey because I was all hopped up on cough syrup. I'm sure other people would have handled themselves maturely, but, me...I cruised the internet and ended up on Craigslist in the personals section. Which, really, isn't so unusual for me. I spend a lot of time trolling Craigslist looking at the all the animals I want to adopt, but can't and reading the silly and misspelled, grammatical nightmare ads in the personals section. But on this particular night, someone was clearly fucking with me. Because they obviously knew that I was hopped up on cough syrup, and had posted a rant against bisexuals.

Now, I've posted before about how much it kinda sucks to identify as a bisexuals, so needless to say, in my addled state the rant, which was vaguely illiterate and ridiculously insulting struck a nerve and because I was hopped up on cough syrup kinda ticked me off...particularly this part...

when you're bisexual or a man looking to molest, rape, or whatever you predators do

Umm...what?!? What the fuck is that? Because I like women and men I'm a predator??? Now, normally, I'd laugh and shrug this off. I mean...we are talking Craigslist...you know. the site where you can get a goat and a used vibrator and hook up with meth-seeking hooker, all for free? Not that anyone should do any of those things, and probably not all at once, but, hey, I'm not here to judge...well, except the goat part. Leave the goat out of the equation. I mean, if you want to hook up with a meth-seeking hooker and use someone else's used vibrator, by all means...but leave the goat out of it, okay? We have to draw the line somewhere...

So, okay where was I? Oh, right...getting all worked up because some anonymous Craigslist idiot was calling bisexuals predators. So, anyway, because I was hopped up on cough syrup I got the idea in my head that for some reason I could educate this woman about how bisexuals are people just like anyone else. I wrote her a very polite e-mail explaining that bisexuality was as valid a sexual identity as lesbianism and how I was sorry that some bisexual girls are skanky asshats who use lesbians as experimental objects, but how we weren't all like that. To which she replied that I was a dirty slut.

Erm...okay...I've slept with all of two people in the last 13 years, but I'm a dirty slut?!?

A rational person would have given in at this point. Okay, a rational person would have never gotten involved in any of this, but you get my point. But, since I'm me and I was all hopped up on cough syrup (Did I mention the cough syrup yet? Because I'm certain that the cough syrup is why I did any of this, not because I'm a somewhat irrational drama queen.) I wrote my own Craigslist post, asking lesbians to be somewhat more understanding of bisexual girls and admonishing bisexual girls to stop posting ads looking for a "gift" for their boyfriends and posting pictures of their vaginas. Seriously? I was trying to reason with strangers on Craigslist.

Needless to say, I got lots of replies, ranging from "Shut up, you dirty bisexual pervert" to "thanks for standing up for bisexuals" to "I'm looking to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome, here's a picture of my vagina." I finally took down the ad because I get enough spam in my inbox, and it was confusing and upsetting to read insults in one e-mail, propositions in the next and heartfelt thanks in a third.

So, what have we learned, dear readers? We have learned that the Queen of the Universe needs to read labels before she ingests cough medicine, that Craigslist is a black hole of all that's wrong with humanity, that the Queen of the Universe is open-minded to other's sexual perversion so long as they leave the goat out of the equation and that it's probably best if none of this ever sees the light of day.

The Old One, Two

So, now in addition to the flare I've been experiencing, I've got a cold. Colds suck quite enough on their own, thank you very much...I don't need this two for the price of one thing. Headache, cough, sore throat, all compounded...viruses and chronic illness don't have an additive effect, they have an exponential effect. So, instead of the fun filled shopping I could be doing this weekend, I'm bed and couch bound. Sigh...