Brazilian Wax, Part 2

Post one on my adventure is here. 

Okay, I said I'd be right back, but then shit happened, and now I'm a little late, but I was talking about my foray into Brazilian bikini waxing, and now I shall continue with a full description of what it's like to pull all of your pubic hair out…

Here is where I would put the break in with a warning that we're in R rated territory, however, those features seem to have disappeared for the time being and I have no idea how to fix it.

So consider yourself warned 😉

*Edited to add… I thought I'd lost my whole post [after spending a couple of hours on it] but then I hit the back button [thank God for the back button] and not only was my post there, but my spell check and all the other neat tools are back, so here's the break I was telling you about… 😛 *

I’m Brazilian, Baby!

Or at least my bikini line is.

This one's a little R rated, so if talk about private parts offends you, come back another time.

Choices

 I figured something out last night.  Number one:  I can't sleep without my night-time cocktail of melatonin and Benadryl.  But, if I don't take it, I can come up with 15,000 things I want to blog about and 1200 scenes for my novel, ideas for both of which I've been severely lacking for a while now.

I also learned that birth control pills give me high blood pressure. 

So the choices.  Sleep or creativity?  High blood pressure or no sex until Steve gets a vasectomy [okay, not really, but we can't use condoms… the latex ones make me break out, itch, and swell, and the non-latex ones feel like Saran Wrap… which hurts].  

Obviously, I had to stop the pill.  Strokes and heart attacks are bad for anyone, but I'm 32, and the mother of three very active kids, and if it's preventable I'm gonna do what I can, you know?  I'm not surprised that I had heart related side effects, but I was expecting tachycardia, not hypertension, so that's a new one for me.

I took my last pill on Thursday, so I'm hoping my BP gets back to normal within the next few days.  I don't feel right when my heart's wonky, so I've been dealing with headaches and dizziness and shortness of breath and even some chest, left shoulder, and neck pain, which probably makes me an idiot since I haven't been to the doctor yet, but I'm just taking it easy and biding my time.  If it doesn't start getting better by tomorrow, I'll go, I promise. 

So anyway, I've just started really enjoying sex again, so I don't want to quit any time soon.  Maybe I'll see about one of those sperm catcher thingies, diaphragm! [Jeez, I forgot what it was called!] 

At least until Steve gets clipped [poor baby, but it makes more sense for him to get it done than me since they use a local anesthetic for a vasectomy and a general for a tubal ligation, plus a tubal is lots more invasive.  Steve doesn't really have a problem with it, except for the usual nerves for his package, but it's still weird to think of him getting it done.]  

Yeah, enough about ovaries and testicles!

About the sleep thing.  My kids have become really good about not waking me up in the mornings [they know they can get by with more the longer I'm asleep] so I could conceivably still get enough sleep even if I take my meds later than I have been.  But, if I'm gonna send Shaya to public school next year, I'll have to start getting up early.

I know it's stupid to worry so much about sleep, but I do have fibromyalgia, and it does seem to get worse when I don't get enough sleep.  Plus, the chronic fatigue part of this shit means that if I consistantly get less than eight or nine hours of sleep per night, my body goes numb and I lose the ability to think.  At all.

Which is really jacked up, but true.  I get this thing when I get overly tired where I feel like I'm walking through water all the time.  I can literally watch myself bump my knee on something, say a car bumper, and not feel it until seconds later.  And when I do finally feel it, even the smallest bump seems to radiate out [like ripples water when you drop something in it] until it gets to my brain.  It's a little like an echo, too.
I really don't like feeling like that because it affects my fine motor skills [can't feel what I'm doing, so I have to watch, and then when the sensation reaches my brain, it feels like pain… even something as simple as changing a diaper hurts.] 

The first time that happened, I was nineteen and in nursing school.  That's about the time I stopped doing my homework and couldn't pass because I didn't turn in my clinical papers.  I didn't tell anyone about it at the time because it's still hard to explain, but suffice it to say that I can't function well without enough sleep.

So anyway, back to this choice I'm gonna have to make.  If I want to write, it's pretty clear that I'm gonna have to do it late at night [that's when the creative juices flow, and I don't know if it's possible for me to change that, although I know a lot of writers have].  I have to get enough sleep, but if Shaya goes to public school next year, I'll have to get up early to get her there on time.

I can pull, like one all nighter without any bad effects, but two or more in a week and I get the numbness thing.  I've never actually done an experiment to see how much sleep I can do without, but it's not fun to try it, so if I get a hint of the numbness, I go to sleep right away.

So I guess if it's important enough, I'll have to experiment and see what my body can handle.  What I do right now, is sleep as long as I possibly can in the morning.  I don't have a time that I get up every morning because the time when I finally get to sleep varies so much.  And I've noticed that if I have an alarm set, it takes longer for me to fall asleep.

Jeez.  I'm gonna have to think about this one some more. I've tried getting up at a set time in the morning regardless of what time I go to bed [hoping to set the rhythm, you know?] But what happens is I get more and more exhausted from not getting enough sleep, and instead of being able to go to sleep quicker at night, I get the numbness thing and the brain dead thing and I'm completely worthless.

I dunno.  I guess I'll come back to this another time.

I'm off to take my bedtime meds, so goodnight, dear friends.

The Secret Message of Jesus

That's the book I'm reading.  It's the latest by Brian McLaren.  I like it a lot better than the 'new kind of Christian' books.  I don't like the pseudo-fiction/non-fiction all rolled up into one thing that he does with those.  It's annoying because much of his dialogue is really his particular viewpoint with quotation marks around it, and that annoys me, even though I agree with his viewpoint.

Fiction should be enjoyable and entertaining with an occasional theme or lesson put into it that arises naturally from the story, not a story concocted to put forth a particular view or lesson, you know?  Yeah, if you understand that statement, you get the gold star for today.

So anyway, Brian McLaren has both exhilarated and disturbed me, usually at the same time.  I've struggled with Christianity almost since I became a Christian.  It's not that I doubt the existence of Jesus, it's just that I doubt the message so many of today's Christians put forth.

The thought that we accept Jesus so we can go to heaven when we die just seems so empty and irrelevant in today's society.  I mean, who cares where you'll go since by the time you get there, you'll be dead and it'll be too late to change anything anyway.  Plus there's the dreary picture of a choir dressed in white singing praises to God for all eternity, and it doesn't seem like much to look forward to, you know?

So many Christians place all the emphasis on the time after death, and in doing so, stop living while they're here on earth.  It seems like so many of us 'accept Jesus as our lord and savior' and then sit back quietly, waiting to die so we can get to the good stuff.  We disregard the planet we live on in anticipation of heaven, thinking all the suffering will end once we die.

We believe that this earth belongs to Satan, and is meant to be destroyed, so we let others [and sometimes participate in] destroy it.  We watch in silence as millions are tortured and murdered in genocide in Darfur.  We watch in silence as thousands of innocent people in Iraq are killed in the name of 'democracy.'  We buy into the lie that violence will somehow result in peace.

Do you want to know why people are running from the Christian church in droves?  Because we've completely missed the point.  Jesus wasn't concerned about where we would go when we died nearly as much as he was concerned about how we are supposed to live here on earth.

And when you look at what He said about living our lives, it's not a big list of don'ts.  It's Love your enemies.  Turn the other cheek.  Take care of each other; the poor, the widows and orphans, the convicts.  Do it out of love for your creator and his magnificent creation, not out of fear of hell, or a sense of obligation to God, or your religion, tradition, family, government, or whatever.  

Jesus called us to sacrifice our wants for the needs of others.  The early church understood this.  They pooled their resources and took care of the poor among them, both inside the church and outside it.  Historically, the tithes and offerings given by church members went directly back into the community, to help the poor.  Building programs were unheard of because they met in homes. 

Probably they had barbecues and invited the whole block, spending time getting to know their neighbors and worshipping God together.  I bet they had music and dancing, and they were joyful because they were so rich in love for each other and for God.  I bet they were filled with the Holy Spirit, and the evidence of that filling was their incredible love and compassion for their fellow man, regardless of their color, religion, vocation, or sexual preference.

I think a lot of [not all] Christians have evicted Jesus from their midst and are worshipping their religion [like the Pharisees of Jesus's day… the brood of vipers, remember?]

It's not so much whether the Bible is true as it is whether we have distorted what it says to suit our own purposes.  When you read what the Bible actually says [specifically what Jesus teaches] and compare it to what the Christian church in America looks like today, I think you'll find that the two have almost no resemblance to each other at all.

So yeah, I believe the Bible is true.  If there are factual inaccuracies it doesn't change the overall truth that is between those covers.  If Christians have failed, if I have failed to show in my life what the Bible really teaches, that is my failing, not the Bible's.

I'm a pitiful follower of Jesus.  I'm selfish and rude, and I want to win the Powerball so I don't have to worry about finances any more [that makes me greedy, I guess].  I want my own way all the time, and I get mad at anyone who stands in my way [including, but not limited to, God and everyone around me].  

But I know there's something more than what I can see, and I'm still searching for it.  I know that I can love even George W. Bush with God's help [lots of it!]  Because God made W in his own image, just like he made me in his image.  And Osama Bin Laden, and the Unibomber, and Mother Theresa, and Paris Hilton.

What we choose to do with that is ultimately up to us.  God won't force you to acknowledge who he is, but if you look long and hard enough [and with an open mind.. with no preconceived notions] I guarantee we will find him.  And maybe, we can even find him in ourselves, and in each other.  And maybe that's the point.

Yeah, so anyway, there are some random thoughts after reading half of this new book.  If you are interested, you can order it here or here.  Even if you have no interest in becoming a Christian, but you are interested in what one might look like [so you can recognize him or her when you see 'em] I encourage you to read it.  

Even if Christians are mostly worthless, Jesus and his message aren't.  If his true message ever gets out, it could change the world [for the better]. 

Okay, I still don't know how often I'll be back to blog, but this was enjoyable, so maybe I won't be so scarce in the future. 

I’m Still Here

But blogging erratically at best.  I'm feeling better than I was, but still out of sorts.  I decided not to finish with my Cymbalta samples since they expired a couple of months ago and I was waking up at four in the morning unable to go back to sleep.

Plus, my stomach was in a mess, and I'm still not sure if it was the med or a flu bug of some sort.  I've been fighting off cold-like symptoms for a few days, so maybe it is the flu. 

I got some Zycam quick melt tablets a while back and decided to try them last night.  Oh. My. Gosh.  How disgusting!  You're supposed to let them melt in your mouth without chewing them or swallowing them whole.  Then you can't get drink or eat for 15 minutes.

The thing is, they taste like bird shit laced with artificial cherry flavor.  No really [don't ask me how I know what bird shit tastes like, just trust me…]  So no more Zycam for me.  The other kind of Zycam available is a gel that you stick up your nose, and that's not much better, although I do use NasalCrom every year for my hay fever, but I was actually thinking of the kids when I got the tablets, but I had no idea they'd taste so bad.

I should have known, though, Zycam is a homeopathic remedy, and I tried one of those once and it tasted vaguely of bird shit, too.  So, my little experiment came to an abrupt end, and I still feel pretty crappy.

So what have I been doing with myself?  Spending time with my family.  I usually blog late at night after the kids go to bed [who can get anything done when the curtain-climbers are awake?  Not me, that's for sure.]

But that's also the time that Steve and I have to visit with eachother, so when I was blogging every day, I wasn't really spending time with my husband.  He's my best friend, and I missed him.

There was a bit of distance growing between us [that happens when you don't talk to each other much] and I realized it was mostly my fault. Steve generally follows my lead in our relationship, which just means that he doesn't insist on 'together time,' he waits for me to say we need some.

If I'm on the computer, he finds something else to do and never complains.  He's really too easygoing for his own good, and I can be pretty shameless in taking advantage of him.  He's not a doormat, but he's really sweet and patient, and I'm pretty demanding and selfish, so when I stop to think about it, I realize that I'm being a bitch and need to think about what he needs and wants for a change.

Which is what I've been doing. So instead of spending several hours blogging [and reading blogs] every night, I've been spending time with him.  Sometimes we look at stuff on the computer together, but usually we talk [or have sex, and he's not complaining one bit about that, either]. 

I'm blessed with a husband who likes to talk, and although I say more words than he does, we can carry on conversations about anything, and we both enjoy it.  So I'm spending my words and time on Steve, and that's a good thing, you know?

Am I finished with the blogosphere?  I doubt it.  But I'm probably not going to be adding an entry every day, either.  I still have my blogs that I read all the time [you can find several of them on my blogroll, although they aren't the only ones I read… maybe I'll get around to adding some more later on.]

I didn't win the short story contest I entered in March, so y'all don't get to read it, but I've realized that I need to submit some of my writing for critique, which means either finding a real life writing group here, or joining one online [which means that I'll have to return the favor and critique other people's work, which makes me nervous… I've never done it and I have no idea if I'm capable of critiquing past, "I liked it." or "It read flat for me." or whatever else horrible critters do.] 

I think my writing may fall flat or something.  I'm not much for description [that's the part I usually skip over when I'm reading, so writing it is like so much torture].  But other than that, I really don't know anything about the quality of my writing or plots or whatever else you need to pay attention to when you're writing.

A little like searching for treasure, walking blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back.  So I'm in research mode again.  I plan to read the stories that did win the contest and compare them.  The judges agreed to send me my 'score' so I'll ask them for that in the next few days if they don't send it.  I may see if I can find a crit group to read it and tell me how I can make it better, and so on.

I liked the story, so I'd like to make it good enough to be publishable, you know?  I'm not giving up, and now I've got a plan of action, so I'd say this entry was therapeutic, if not coherent.

[Doug commented on 'one topic bloggers' the other day and I laughed.  A whole blog about one topic?  Hee hee.  I can't even do a whole blog entry about one topic!]

Okay, so anyway, I'll see you in a few days, okay? 

Well Shit

I'm in a pretty bad state emotionally right now.  My depression is out of control.  I don't know if it's the birth control, the stress, or a combination of the two, but all of the good habits I've been working on for the past few months [since November] have pretty much gone away and I'm right back where I started.

I don't understand why changing your behavior has to be so damn difficult.  My mind isn't working right, I feel stupid and I can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes.  To be honest, I feel like I've got pregnancy brain, or depression brain, or both.

I'm only able to focus on myself right now and I hate that.  All the self-defeating, negative thoughts are right back screaming at me, and I'm believing them again.  I feel like a complete failure, totally worthless, and a crappy writer to boot.  I want to give up and stop trying.

Maybe I already have stopped trying.  Maybe that's why I'm in this mess.  I don't know.  I'm probably going to call my doctor and try Cymbalta again [anti-depressant with the added bonus that it controls pain… maybe I can get rid of my fibromyalgia pain too.  Dare I hope it?]  Yeah, it's a sad day when emotional numbness is preferable to feeling this God-awful pain and sadness, and I'm there again.

Ick.