Things my kids say:

Jedi:  I want a vape pen so my room smells nice like yours. 

Diva: Her room smells ah-mazing. It smells good because she cares about it and keeps it clean. Im obsessed with your bed, Momma.  Do you know I laid down and fell asleep in Mom’s bed for like an hour and when I woke up my skin was softer. 

Me: How is that even possible?

Diva: I DONT KNOW! But it’s totally true. Your bed is magic. 

side sick

Ive been sick the last couple days. 

Lots of sick after having the audacity to eat steak at a wedding Saturday and again Sunday while having Fathers Day dinner with my Dad.  Bad move…

The being sick seems to have passed while the feeling sick hasnt OR I did not absorb enough anti-depressant during being sick. Sigh. 

It’s usually hard to tell until you’re drowning … tumbling down the rabbit hole. 

Kids have been quiet, doing the lazy, teenager summer schtick. 

Dog is still low-key dying *sniff*

BOY friend is out of town. Family vacation. Which feels a little weird to type… 

It’s strange to know so many intimate details of someone’s life and yet … not know them intimately, in that way.

                         See, it’s weird. 

Wait … is this the rabbit hole?

All at once

I have not yet continued my last post because I, intially, needed a distraction from that hurtful ridiculousness and then all the things began happening all at once again. 

I was gifted a pass to Cleveland’s LaureLive weekend musical festival from a dear friend through a local radio station. 

About midway through Saturday I started losing feeling in my right thumb. Sunday morning it had spread across the palm and at one point Sunday evening I couldnt feel my pinky or any finger tips. When my entire ride side starting to lock up, I called into my doctor’s office and was reffered to the ER to rule out a stroke. 

I was discharged with instructions to follow up with my neurologist for a repeat MRI, since it has been a few years, to rule MS, again. All week the numbness has spread. It’s now in my forearm and elbow, shoulder and shoulder blade. Bizarre! 
If that wasnt enough, my littlest furbaby, PNut,  started really struggling to breathe today. 

He was so lathatrgic and just all around … well, pathetic it broke my heart. We’ve been making inappropriate jokes about him “low-key dying” for about two months now, due to his slowing down and hacking cough but I couldnt have imagined that when I walked into the vet’s office today, I would be hearing a “congestive heart failure” diagnosis. Although, I wasnt surprised to hear his heart is enlarged (the pup has a BIG heart!) 

(sigh)

The prognosis is not good, but we will try a routine of cardiac medications over the next week and make the hardest decision from there. 


Is it just me or does it seem like either everything happens all at once or there’s nothing going on at all? 

And I quote …

“Spend all your time waiting

For that second chance

For a break that would make it okay

There’s always some reason

To feel not good enough

And it’s hard, at the end of the day

I need some distraction

Oh, beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins

And maybe empty

Oh, and weightless, and maybe

I’ll find some peace tonight

In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark, cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There’s vultures and thieves at your back

The storm keeps on twisting

Keep on building the lies

That you make up for all that you lack

It don’t make no difference

Escape one last time

It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness

Oh, this glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees

In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark, cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here”

~ Sarah McLachlan

As ominous clouds gather

It’s been threatening to rain/storm all day, literally and figuratively speaking. 

Figurativively, Im trying to cope, calm the storm inside my wild breaths and not lash out like I normally do when someone backs me into a corner: CLAWS OUT. The bottle of wine, Im working on finishing on my own would tell me Im going to need a better coping mechanism. Fuck. Whatever. Look, when someone tells you they would like to have a therapy session with you so that they can “relay things” to you with an assured “support person” to be on hand for you after said things are relayed, I think most would agree is ominous. Not something I would normally sign up for, but I am doing it for my mother. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. There has just been far too much anti-climatic drama in our family since my sister got pregnant. I have been cut out and my Mom, whom would deny this if ever asked,  was placed in the middle.  

I got a call last March. I missed that call while I was driving and attempting to follow voice navigated directions, it went to my  voicemail. Over a year has passed and I still wonder: What if I had only received that call? What if I had not needed direction that night. I pulled into a CVS and listened to the voicemail. It was my sister telling me that she was pregnant. Happy tears rolled down my cheeks as I couldn’t even gather myself to listen to the other details, so I hung up and called her right back. Straight to voicemail. I let my elation and joy unfold in a voice message. I hang up and call directly back to my own voicemail to completely listen to the whole message. Sister says she is due in September. She said that since she was past the first trimester, as well as her and my brother in law, (DC),  wedding anniversary was coming up on St. Patrick’s Day, she and DC were planning a Facebook post to tell everyone, but she had still wanted to tell me formally. It tasted like the real thing, but looking back on that last word: formally I have to wonder if this was EXACTLY all she meant to do was to formally tell me she was pregnant. 

Fine, we can have a formal only sister interaction, hell, even if begrudging this seems likes a civility that our parents, who have invested so much here could have holidays with their children and grandchildren without the drama, but no, that couldn’t be what she meant because I wasn’t ever formally or even informally invited to either of her baby showerS, friends and also family, out-of-town with my Mom’s entire side of the family and where was Stephanie?  

Did anyone ask?  I digress…

Whatever is to be said, and I steongly feel, I already know but am trying to delude myself into believing there must be something more. What I do know is that there is just absolutely no excuse that will dismiss the great injustice I feel. 

To be continued …

Letters I meant to send:

mark-zuckerberg-facebook-liveDear Mr. Zuckerberg,

I humbly submit the following as my dissertation on facebook:

 

Many, many moons ago, in the age of MySpace, we were able to arrange and re-arrange “The Elite 8”. I bump up or down this lineup was watched and commentated on throughout pop culture. It was a “thing”. As we moved from High School MySpace to the thing all the college kids were doing on the facebook campus. We start friending everyone when we first got there as freshmen. We friended people we met through a friend of a friend at the bar even as sophomores. We started to realize that the more “friends” we added, the more platforms and pedestals we provided. It wasn’t until we were upper class-man that we started to add our family. In giving everyone a platform, we got to see the deepest and also, unfortunately, the darkest parts of their hearts. It hasn’t always been pretty, but the grotesque should not make us look away. We must brave on and look at the carnage the generations before us left behind. Never before had it been put on such vast display, not only for everyone to see, but to others to comment. This gave us the deepest look into the mind of human kind and, man …spoiler alert:… WE’RE FUCKED UP! BUT, the most brutiful part is that in friending our family members, we found our tribe. The people who communicate love in our language. Our tribe can consist of whoever the hell we want. We can still be family, without being friends and we can be friends who become family. That’s our tribe and we get to connect to it, wherever in the world we may be, whenever our tribe is needed.

Thank you, for the wake up call, Mr. Zuckerberg. From this point forward, l shall be using facebook for this purpose alone. #dailywakeupcallfromsteph

 

I hereby request to be permitted to graduate and henceforth be known as:

Dr. Stephanie Quinzel

 

IT IS SO ORDERED.

__________________________________________

Mark M. Zuckerberg, Fouder, facebook