I've got the Power...bill

Our electricity/gas bill is ridiculous. That's the only way to explain the almost 300 dollar bill that we just paid. Ridiculous. No only is it ridiculous, but wasteful seeing how much of our electricity still comes from coal and not renewable resources.

My husband suffers from hypothyroidism, which is probably the reason that he's CONSTANTLY hot. He'd be happy in a t-shirt in 40 degree weather. The fact that he now has to wear a coat in winter (when I'm completely bundled up and chattering) or that he is capable of getting cold, is a new concept for him. I sympathize with his plight of hotness, but he keeps our AC at 72 (okay, I've managed to push it up to 74) all the time and I'm COLD. It is NOT right to be cold and wearing a sweatshirt when it's 100 degrees outside. I think it is training his body to never get used to adapting to heat, and making me more susceptible to getting ill.

We do try to save energy though. For example, when we moved into this house, the first thing that we did was change all of the bulbs to florescent bulbs. My hubs likes them, and I like the idea of saving money. The ones that they have now that are less 'white' and don't make my head hurt. Also, they don't take forever to warm up either. I used to have nightmares about walking into rooms, flicking the switch and having it be really dim. Something bad was in the room but I wasn't going to be able to see it until the freaking fluorescent light warmed the heck up! Yeah, wasn't a fan.

Moving on...I get that we pay a premium for having the AC on but what is that premium?
Let's check out my bill:

Customer charge: 7.50
EmPower MD charge 4.00
Distribution Charge 54.19
RSP(wtf?)/Misc. charges that I'm pretty sure they make up 9.42

wait...I'm paying 75.11 before we even get to the electricity that we used? Are you freaking kidding me? My parent's electric bill isn't even that much in total! Okay..then we move onto the actual electricity that we used, which is about $194. This includes me turning up the AC 3-4 degrees most days when my husband leaves for work. It also however reflects that the temperature was above 85 degrees for 195 hours this last month.

So what the heck am I going to do to lower this bill? We already closed off vents in rooms we aren't using, but it doens't seem to have made a difference (nor do those rooms even get hot). I turn up the AC when the hot one isn't home, and I think actually I'll buy him a fan and keep the AC up more. I can help him with cooling devices like our neck coolers, cool clothings and air flow. This is better than the AC being up super high anyways! We change our filter constantly, but we do need to check out cleaning the coils. We aren't going to sign up for electricity cycling--it's my husband's worst nightmare, so please don't suggest it. Once we take AC out of the equation, what is left?

I decided to check out the other electricty busting appliances...like the dryer. This puppy uses 4400 watts vs the fridge which uses 57-160 watts. The dishwasher uses 1200 watts, but if you don't heat the water, only 200. So I decided to cut down on using both. When I was growing up, we always had a cloths line. We would take our stuff out, hope it didn't fall on the ground or get bugs on it, and hated using crunchy towels. Now, apparently in an attempt to see it's effect on my electricity bill, I am going back to crunchy towel town.

In the last year I stopped drying half of my clothing in the dryer anyways because I was sick of my shirts shrinking up (not getting too small, just too short!), and when I recently bought a bunch of new clothing realized that I'd been blast heat drying most of my stuff, most of my life. The 'normal' setting is medium...NOT high. Yeah, this explains the holes in clothing and why they never lasted long, right? My dad gave some suggestions on where and how to hang a line, and I put in a request that one be put up in the basement. We live next to misquito breeding ground, and it's so insanely muggy here lately that nothing would dry outside (not to mention the HOA probably could care less about the environmental impact of a cloths line and just see it as impacting the quality of their cookie-cutter houses. We need to buy better line, but the one thinner line he managed to hang between two bookcases across our basement worked well enough to dry about half of a load of towels. I did throw the rest of them into the dryer on 'air only' because they were SOAKED (I'm not sure our washer spins them enough) AND I had no where to hang them. My bedroom has been the defacto place to hang stuff lately, so I'll hang up the shirts on hangers, and put them spaced around the room (on doors etc) to dry, then lay flat other stuff on the drying rack, blanket rack, ironing board and elliptical (see I'm using the workout equiptment). I'm also running the dishwasher less, re-using/better about washing dishes between uses and reusing instead of grabbing new dishes and making my husband put a kill-o-watt thing on his computers to show how much power they are sucking while he's at work not using them. I'm also unplugging more stuff, and being better about turning off lights.

What is your power bill (will you share?) and what have you done that has been effective in lowering it? What do you keep your AC setting on? Am I working for the greater good of helping preserve resources, or simply making life more difficult?

Rainy Day Musings

It's one of those type of days where Dylan playing Blowing in the Wind seems to just hit the spot in your contemplative mood.  


It's been rainy here, a blessing since the heirloom tomato plants that my lovely friend brought over are happily taking off, glad to stretch their roots down into a new pot of soil, rather than the cramped planter they were previously confined in.

I haven't written a lot lately, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I feel like I have to finish a 'story'...come to some conclusion or resolution in order to finish a blog post. I've begun a ton of posts--and for some reason just can't find the gumption to finish them.

My husband is off playing board games with his friends, and I decided that I wanted to stay home. I think I had some grandiose idea that I would cook and clean but that's only gone so far as making some potstickers, and waffles to freeze for breakfast. I've noticed an absence of enough vegetables in my life, and a predilection to only like cooking carbie foods and I really need to remedy that.  Last night, in an ill-fated 'adventure' I attempted to find my 'limit' on how much cake frosting I could eat before I'd get a headache. The answer was...far less than I'd like.  Did I stop? Not really. I managed to curb how much cake I consumed but continued to nibble on the frosting. I'm paying today with a headache, and hung over feeling most of the day.

Still, it's amazing to see how far I've come in the last 15 months.  When I went to the doctor and found out why I wasn't getting pregnant easily, she gave me this laundry list of things to do. A list that I didn't think I'd be able to complete, even as I nodded my head in mute agreement.  It seems now like I'm well on my way to making those things happen. It's encouraging and yet daily I question if I even want kids now.  If I want to deal with the lack of sleep, the noise, the stress.  Yet, I know if I found out that I was pregnant tomorrow, I would push these fears into the back of my head and be ecstatic.  When people ask why I don't have kids, and I attempt to explain, as quickly as possible about the PCOS, after the pitying noises, it seems like they more often than not immediately ask if we'd considered adoption.  This bothers me.  While I have nothing against the idea of adoption, we haven't been married THAT long, I'm not damned to infertility, and what do you know about adoption or our desire or ability to do so? Frankly, the idea of having my life and financials picked over by a stranger for them to decide if I would be a fit parent, while some 16 year old gets knocked up the first go around infuriates me.  I am constantly thanking an unseen deity for the time that my husband and I have together in blessful quiet, save for the cries of Henry being attacked by a playful catnip infused Newton.  Not having kids right now isn't the worst thing in the world, and I wonder how many of those pitious looking people are quietly wishing they could swap places.

I think I've figured out why I don't write much anymore. I used to love writing, love sharing and love having an attachment to this blog. Having it was part of my identity but lately, it seems like one more thing that I haven't caught up with.  It seems like one more way that I could say something out of place and piss someone else off because if nothing else, I'm damn good at accidentally pissing people off. It seems like one more way to remind me of my lack of close friends or direction in life.  I feel like I've been dropped in a pool and everyone else is swimming laps and I'm sorta messily treading water, maybe doggy paddling as Olympians breast stroke around me.  What the heck do I know about life, marriage, or parenthood?  One of the saddest things about becoming an adult is realizing that you don't wake up one day knowing everything you need to know, or having definitive direction in your life.  Childhood brings you up to see this idealized version of being an adult that exists only in a child's mind.

As I wrote above, I don't blog much about my experiences anymore because I don't want to offend anyone.  I'm contemplating starting a second blog where I can just write about all the crap that bothers me, but it seems like it would be all negative and nothing positive.  In the end, all I want is the negativity out of my life, and happiness, peace and positivity in.  I feel like I've entered a state of contemplation in my life.  I needed to find my passion again. What touches my soul? Before college my immediate answer would be music. Music was always that 'thing' for me, but when I left high school and weekly flute lessons that disappeared.  A few weeks ago I attended a Baha'i summer school and got to learn from this amazing musician JB Eckl. I listened and meditated on the music, the prayers and realized that that passion with music needed to be reignited in my life.  I listened to so much guitar music that weekend and decided I want to take up guitar.  I've always wanted to play a stringed instrument but hadn't really had an opportunity to until now.  Small hands and all, I will persevere.

I need consistency in my life. It has never been my strong point, or my husbands and that is becoming a serious issue.  Be it consistency in working out, taking medicine every day, eating correctly every day...I suck at it.  It is my goal to work on this consistency, and incorporate my playing guitar, eating well, writing in this blog etc. into that desire to have consistency.  Oh yes, and positivity...because my natural tendency is to gripe and complain (yes, I do acknowledge this) but by looking at the positive side of situations, you can usually be more productive and happy in the long run.

The choice to live, or not.

 The choice to live or the choice to die is something many of us have no say in.  When is it okay to say “I’m done” because your quality of life, is not a livable life.   

Currently, I’m in Oregon visiting my in laws.  The day before I got here my mother in law sent me an email with the sad news that their 17 year old cat (inherited after my sister in law passed away 3 years ago)  was dying from kidney failure. Summer had three cats, and Lightning will be the second to pass away.  Lightning (lighnin’ as we call her) is a spunky white cat, who used to chronically steal food, lick the butter if you forgot to cover it, perch on you daintily as you slept, and is a cat who has lead a life of service.   To understand this life of service you have to understand the mysterious myriad of illnesses that surrounded my sister in law, that eventually lead to her death, a death that taught us about what quality of life really means. 

Here is a long story from the NYTimes about Summer’s life, that you can read at your leisure.  Lightning is the white cat standing looking out a window.  In the magazine there were more pictures, and Ms. Lightning managed to push her furry head into all of them!  Read the article, or at least part of it because the abridged paragraph below doesn’t do her story any justice at all. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/22/magazine/22Diseases-t.html?pagewanted=all

Summer was a mystery that no doctor could figure out.  The time that I spent with her was when she was selected to come to the NIH (National Institute of Health) to be poked, prodded and written about.  They couldn’t cure her, but hoped that the knowledge that they could gain from studying her, might help others down the line.  She lived in chronic pain, knowing that these illnesses would eventually end her life. She was on dialysis, mobility issues, lost one eye, but she never lost her spirit.  People in chronic pain develop this biting wit and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, but from what I know of Summer that’s just how she was.  Strangely, with all of the undiagnosed diseases that Summer had, her cats seemed in some way to take them on.  Lightning occasionally had a seizure when she was younger, like Summer did and even had a touchy digestive system.    

Summer taught us about quality, or lack of quality of life.  In the end, she started bleeding, and they didn’t know where the blood came from or how to stop it. They gave her blood, and more blood and more and finally she said, ‘enough is enough.’ What is the point of being alive, when you aren’t living, stuck in a hospital bleeding out the blood that I just had injected.  What type of life do I have hooked up to these machines, incapable of doing anything more than lying here waiting for death?  She she made a choice. She chose to die.  She chose to have all her friends over to give away all her earthly possessions and tell them good-bye.  Our last conversation with her was on our wedding day (June 22) and the last thing she said before bye, was “I’ve got to go, the cat is eating my avocado!” Two days later, she passed away. On her own terms, in her own house, surrounded by family and friends. 

Lightning is 17 years old.  She’s an old cat that was the constantly companion to Summer. She hates being picked up because Summer couldn’t pick up the cats, so she never got used to being held like that. A recent vet visit determined that she was in the late stages of kidney failure, an inevitability in cats of advanced age, and the vet suggested subcutaneous saline injections. So home my father in law and the cat came, laden with a large bag of saline fluid, needles and tubing. While injections on a healthy cat with fat on it’s bones might be easy, it’s extremely difficult to ‘tent’ skin on a skinny dehydrated cat.  Let’s just say the first injection was both traumatic, probably not terribly effective and the last time we did it.  Instead when the time came to do the injection again, we decided that we would let her go on her own terms and that the trauma of the injection wasn’t worth the few days of benefit that she might gain from the injection. 

While she hadn’t been eating, she seemed to really like the small crumbles of turkey I gave her the night I arrived, so it was an issue of finding out what she could and would eat.  Actually, I only thought to feed her turkey because Newton is obsessed with smelling my food but never eats people food, and she seemed to want to both smell and eat my food.  The important thing though was that water. We started offering her water hourly in a bowl, where she was laying (rather than having to get up), and she started drinking. MY MIL ground up some cat food, added warm water and the gravy from it, and she started lapping that up.  I even suggested she get a ‘ride’ over to the litter box, and she greatly appreciated that as well.  

Lightning hasn’t given up. She will die, but she has chosen to hang on. Maybe she wants to make it until Summer’s birthday on 6/12, or the date that she passed away on 6/24, but either way she’s with us now.  She slept with me last night, which warmed my heart because the past times I visited she slept with me the entire trip.  Her quality of life isn’t bad. She’s not in pain, she’s just tired.  Similarly, Summer fought through the exhaustion,  lack of appetite, and failing kidneys until she was able to make a choice to say that enough is enough.  We can’t cure her, we can’t fix her, but we can let her make the choice of when to give up, and she’s not ready to.  

Not many people go on vacation to take people to cataract surgery (that’s in a couple of hours) or do home hospice for a cat, but I don’t mind. I didn’t think Lightning would last until this visit, and the idea of being there when my mother in law can see clearly with both eyes (without glasses) for the first time in her life,  are amazing memories that I will hold dear.  

Death

Death seems to be a prominent feature in this year, and I am not liking it at all.  Mere months ago my childhood best friend lost her mother and weeks later her father.  Their passing as a hit to me, not only because of the pivotal role they played in my childhood, but because they weren't that old.  I never felt like I 'grew-up' yet here I am, looking mortality in it's face.  I don't think that death is malevolent, but a necessity, for without death we can't have life.  This book really changed how I look at death. Yes, it's fiction and fantasy but it is also a powerful examination of the inevitable.

Anyone that follows me on facebook saw that my grandfather passed away yesterday.  I didn't know him well but I would like to share what I did know. It is going to be rough, and spotty and not necessarily completely accurate. It's from my memory, without calling family to back up the facts.


See, I didn't know him well. It's hard to mourn someone you barely knew, but it still hurts.  Leonard Stamper, otherwise known as Pete, was from Tuscaloosa, Alabama.  His mother's name was Lee Ilya and she was a 6 foot tall red head.  I'm giving her name for my first daughter, because from the time I heard it, I knew I loved that name. My grandfather and grandmother divorced when my mother was young. Their relationship was tumultuous and certainly not monogamous, as my mother discovered in her 40's that she was named after a woman he met in a bar. My family likes to keep it classy.

My mom remembers sitting on his shoulders as a little girl, but I didn't meet him in person until I was in college. In high school I got mail from him. I guess my mom talked to him about my liking to collect quarters, and one of his hobbies was collecting coins.  I received a box in the mail, and it had some proof sets of the quarters that had been minted that year.  These coins are the only gift I ever received from him, and I thank him for fostering a love of coin collecting in me.  My collection is tiny, mostly still the things that he sent me, and I value it highly.

I met him over a summer vacation from college. My brother came upstairs and woke me up saying something about a strange man yelling at the door. My parents weren't home at the time and I was confused as to a. why there was some strange man at the door and b. why the hell my brother wouldn't take care of it. I managed to pull myself out of bed and head downstairs to figure out what the hell was going on.  He had a red truck, and drove straight up from TX to Ohio to bring my mom a box of pictures. Family history. My mom loves to study history and geneology and it's fitting that he gave them to her.  In my sleep fogged brain, I couldn't figure out what he was yelling. Actually..it was probably his damn accent, but he was yelling "auuuuuuuuuuud?! Auuuuuuuuuuuuud?!" one of the only people allowed to call my mom that, and not get kicked.

My grandfather was a Southern man through and through.  He was so Southern, it oozed out of him.  His accent was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and talking to him on the phone was almost impossible.  Talking to him was like talking to a southern stereotype, and I had a damn hard time not laughing at him. Oh, who am I joking, I totally did.
 One thing I hated about my grandfather, was his racism.  I deplore racism, and perhaps one of the reasons that my mother was so vehement about teaching us about the evils of racism was because of her father. He was a Korean War POW, and perhaps that experience had some part in his racism, but I really think it was just growing up in the segregated South and being too stubborn to care or change.  When we were looking through the pictures that he brought us, he said something and used the n-word. I had literally never heard someone drop a racial slur like that, and without thinking about it, blurted out something along the lines of "we don't use that language in this house, and if you want to you can leave!" I took him (and myself) by surprise and he apologized and said, "that was just what we called people back then" and he knew it wasn't right.  You would think that my parents would be angry that I spoke to an elder like that, but my mom still tells this story. I think she was glowing with the pride that I stood up for something that she impressed so strongly into us.

The next time I saw him was my cousin's wedding. I don't think it was the same summer, but it very well may have been. I remember asking if he'd seen my grandmother, and he commented that he hadn't seen her in (trying to do math in my head....) 40? years. I was walking next to him, and pointed her out to him. He grunted in approval and commented that "she held up pretty well over the years." Is that a Southern compliment?

He died of lung cancer. Smoking cigarettes for half a century (plus) can and will kill you.  He battled this disease for most of the last decade, and it finally took him. I truly believe that he came to see us years ago because he thought it was going to die then, and he needed to make peace before he left this world.  In the last decade, he managed to make peace with his daughters and foster some sort of relationship with all of them.  He finished what he set out to do, and it was okay for him to go.  He had a DNR. He wanted his passing to be just that, not a tug to stay on this plane of existence, but an acceptance that death will take us all.  

In a weird twist of fate, my wonderful friend's father passed away yesterday and we had a long discussion last night and I was mourning his passing only to wake up this morning and find out that my grandfather had passed away.  It has been a strange, and a bit surreal of an experience.

Today my 5 year college reunion starts, followed by Slumber Parties training, work, a party and finally my trip to Oregon.  Hopefully I can write more there, but until then I bid you adieu and leave you with this prayer:

Omy God!  O Thou forgiver of sins, bestower of gifts, dispeller of afflictions! 

Verily, I beseech thee to forgive the sins of such as have abandoned the physical garment and have ascended to the spiritual world. 

O my Lord!  Purify them from trespasses, dispel their sorrows, and change their darkness into light.  Cause them to enter the garden of happiness, cleanse them with the most pure water, and grant them to behold Thy splendors on the loftiest mount.

‘Abdu’l-Bahá

I may need a new post office

Having a business that I more or less run out of my home, means that I’m running to the post office frequently for stamps, or to ship orders out to people.  That means that the guy (ironically named “Guy”) that works behind the desk has become familiar with my face. Usually there is a big line behind me and I don’t ever get to have small small talk with him without feeling the razor gaze of the poor person behind me that wishes I would hurry the hell up. The extent of our conversation up to this point was my assurances that there was no liquids, fragile or hazardous materials in my packages, and that I would like the “love or celebration stamps, please.”   Yesterday, about an hour before they closed,  I ran over to ship 5 padded envelopes to ship from my last party. This time the post office was miraculously empty, and I said something to Guy about seeing me often to which he responded, “What do you sell anyways?”…

Enter awkward silence for a moment. Not that I’m not embarrassed in any way about what I sell, or what I do, Latino men in their mid-50's aren’t exactly my target audience, so I go for broke and say, “sex toys more or less. I’m a consultant with Slumber Parties so I sell sex toys, but also lotions and candles and such. Most of these are candles and lotions.”  I think he may have swallowed his tongue at this point, and eye contact is now in short supply.  He picks up a package, squeezes it and says “well…I know what’s in here!” I think for a second, actually trying to remember what had been put in that package, and respond, “Actually that’s just a packing bubble to even out the package. All that is in there is a candle, good try though.”  He makes a noise in his throat that I interpreted to mean, “yeah right, I know you’re shipping dildos, but whatever!”  Our conversation more or less stops at this point as someone else comes into the room. 

So, now my postman will be feeling up my packages and trying to guess what’s in them, and very obviously laughing his ass off at me after I leave. I think that I may actually have made his afternoon. I’ll give him my business card next time I’m in there, see how he reacts. That will be amusing. Either that…or find a new post office.  

Sunshine and Salaams

It was a beautiful day for a walk. I met a friend in the parking lot and set out around the lake.  Coming down a hill we saw a man walking and my friend pointed out that he looked like he was wearing PJ's. I commented that it was probably a thobe, and then saw that he had prayer beads.  I explained what they were, and as we walked by said "Salaam aleykum" to him.  The man, an African man, probably in his 30's was dressed in a thobe, matching pants, and a kufi, with a large string of prayer beads in his right hand (think of Catholic nuns and their super sized rosaries that we thought were cool as kids).   He smiled and responded "wa aleykum salaam" and I turned back to my conversation. 

Down the bend there was a bridge, and a mother goose with goslings. Canadian geese are a pain in the ass, but even annoying water fowl have beautiful fluffy babies, so we stopped to coo over them.  I had forgotten about the man I spoke to earlier until he caught up with me and asked me how I knew Arabic, and if I’d been to Africa before. I told him that, no I hadn’t been to Africa but was Muslim in college, but no longer considered myself Muslim. I also attempted to explain that, while I still search for my faith but don't necessarily feel the need to be constrained by labels.  He asked if he could say a du'ah (prayer) for me, and in a whisper prayed for me quickly in Arabic.  My friend, who is white, probably hasn't spent much time around Muslims and frankly, doesn't know me very well yet, didn't know if this guy was propositioning me, or doing something to make me uncomfortable, and quietly asked if we wanted to continue our walk. I held up a hand to ask her to hold on until she was done. When the man finished, I said thank you, and we continued on our walk. I explained to her that he was saying a prayer for me, and that talking about religion with strangers doesn't really bother me at all. 

Normally, I would never have said anything but I must have been intoxicated on sunshine, fresh air and the cool breeze.  I felt compelled to talk to him, not to show off my mad Arabic skills (cause I don't have them anymore), but perhaps like my niqabi friends that like to buck stereotypes and Rollerblade in niqabs, I want to be the person that isn’t afraid to talk to people just because they look different.  Everyone has something to offer, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to see what they have to teach me.  Also, I lived in fear of judgement from others for so long. The fear that I was too Muslim for the culture I lived in and not Muslim enough for the culture and community that I was trying to enter. I put restrictions on myself, that others weren’t imposing, and today I realized this. I didn’t know this man, and will probably never see him again, I had nothing to prove to him, but two little words, “salaam aleykum” brightened up both of our days. 

It was truly a beautiful day for a walk. We couldn’t have asked for better weather and I’m four pounds away from some badly needed new clothing.  I'm happy for a new found friend that is going to make me walk off of the pounds around our area's beautiful lakes, and for the don't give a damn attitude that people thought I had, but I've really just developed.  

5 years of my life I will actually remember!

My mom had surgery yesterday, and thankfully it seems like she is on the road to recovery.  I was awaken this morning by a phone call from her, and was so happy to hear her sound like herself.  However, being woken up with a phone call lead to me forgetting to take my medicine and later finding myself sprawled on the couch wondering why I barely had the motivation to blind, let alone get any work done. Luckily I realized that I'd forgotten my medicine but I still feel like crap. Does anyone else get instantly and insanely addicted to caffeine? I do. I can drink 2 sodas one day and feel like I have a 8 shot tequila on an empty stomach hangover the next day. What...the...hell!  I hate it. Please pause for me to go make tea because I'm sick of my head spinning.

Okay moving on.  Last year I met this lovely flight attendant whom my husband decided was the coolest girl like EVER after she did the safety speech for him. Oh yes, she did.  Anyways, this fabulous lady had a journal. It's the Q& A a day 5 year journal and when I saw it I knew I needed it. I love writing, I love keeping records but I suck at maintaining routines, which means that I have tons of half filled notebooks.   This journal has guided questions and 4 lines to answer, with space for 5 years worth of answers. I knew I needed this thing, and she promised it to me for my birthday but when she went to the store they didn't have it (and apparently I was too lazy to look it up on amazon like I just did for you). Anyways, a couple of weeks ago, after watching the Newies (oh yeah, the only school Disney one!) and drooling over baby Christian Bale for awhile, she pulled my own awesome journal out of her bag annnnd of course I had to start writing! Note that she made me wait until after I'd watched the entire movie.  

My Weight Loss Journey check in...I've lost how much?

There is a show on TLC currently called “My 600lb Life” that has struck a note with me. It follows around 4 different people that had gastric bypass surgery for almost a decade to see what happened after the surgery. It isn’t a before and after shot, but an in depth view of the struggles and the triumphs that they face.  This show inevitably makes me cry every time I watch it.  I had it on my DVR for weeks before I could.  This show is hard to watch.  The journey of being 600 pounds isn’t easy, and the weight loss isn’t easy either. People develop addictions to food for a reason, and it’s a hard hard job to face those addictions, admit to them, and then struggle to stay on top of them. 

The reason that that show is hard to watch, is the same reason that I started this blog.  It resounds so closely to my own battle, and my own constant fear of uncontrolled weight gain.  I started this blog after a discussion with my college friend Benita.  I had been thinking seriously about getting some sort of bariatric surgery to help me lose weight.  At 300 pounds, getting to anything with a 1 in the front of it seemed like an impossible task.  This was about the same time I had an aunt that I’m close to (and resemble in body type) have gastric bypass and lose an amazing amount of weight,  feeling like she had energy and the ability to live for the first time in a long time.  Maybe it was laziness, maybe fear, or maybe damn stubborn persistence that I could lose this weight, that I never went through with the surgery. I'm still not sure, and commend those that were able to make that decision and have lost huge amounts of weight.

You sell what? *gasp*

It has been far too long. It’s been far too long since I sat at a screen, wrote down my feelings and shared them with the world.  I take pictures, I script out blogs in my head, but my lazy distracted self has failed in blogging lately.  One of the reasons is that it’s really hard to just shoot off fast posts. I have to sit, and ponder and then percolate, and eventually genius ends up on the screen. Just kidding about the genius, but I don’t want you to read anything stream of conscious from me. If you think I get distracted by sparklies in conversations, my writing is worse. I write in paragraphs and then somehow make things sort of fit together. Sort of…see, I’m trying.  Plus, if I don’t at least make a cursory attempt a editing, my husband…judges.  

So my life has been taken up by sex toys, and it’s been difficult for me to figure out exactly what level of hilarious but not necessarily ‘safe for work’ detail I should go into on here.  For example, should I tell the story of how my husband managed to hurt is back ‘lifting a crate of dildos,’ or how I almost shot a ‘sleeve’ across a room while practicing for my demo, or how I fed a parrot a wiener. Actually that last one has nothing to do with sex toys, but it was fun!  So my life, if I thought it was reality TV worthy before, only got better when mixed with gratuitous amounts of lubrication, laughter and my own…lets go with unique, sense of humor. 

I guess I should write here more because someone other than me, and my husband should be in on these adventures.  For example, yesterday I was having lunch with some new women from one of my meetup groups, and they asked what I did.  They were intrigued and we were discussing my company, toys, sexuality and the whole gauntlet of topics.  After awhile one of my friends had to leave, so I turned on the seat to talk to the remaining person at the booth and glanced at the computer the guys in the booth behind us had.  On the screen was a picture of a bloody thorned ‘crown’ as I hear this guy passionately discuss how the thorns in the crown they forced Jesus to wear were 3 inches long.  Apparently I missed the Bibles the dudes were carrying when they sat behind us and began attempting to convert a fellow hipster.  Funny, the guy they were trying to convert was sitting with his back to me, and I’m almost certain he heard…everything that I said. And for the record, I wasn’t at all embarrassed. 

I love to study religion, and spend a huge amount of my time and energy learning about my faith.  I however am sick of ‘religious’ people that  straight out judged me and my character because of what they presume I do.  Yes, I sell sex toys… and lingerie…and lotions… and massage oils…and great products and great opportunities. What I don’t sell are the poor life choices, infidelity and immorality that their judgement charges me with.  What I do isn’t dirty. What is dirty is societies perception of people that use my products.  I say this now, and I will say it again—there is NOTHING wrong with have a fulfilling sexual relationship with your spouse (or partner because I’m not discriminating).  There is nothing in the Bible against finding your spouse attractive, and trying to be attractive for them.  There is an entire book in the Bible extolling the virtues of finding your spouse beautiful, and desirous.  There is nothing in the Qu’ran against having a healthy sex life. Heck, the hadith actually had requirements on how often men were required to ‘visit’ their wives based on their jobs, and advised lots of foreplay.  No, I’m not digging out quotes.  If you don’t believe me, I will thought.  Please just believe me. I’m lazy.

Starting a business has glaringly brought back into the forefront of my life, my inability to deal with stress.  I have serious difficulty filing things in order of necessity, or priority without first freaking out about feeling like I have a million things to do and no time.  I had a really really hard time in the beginning, feeling like I needed to shove as much knowledge into my head as could possibly fit. When I started having dreams about sending out invitations, and organizing and learning my demo, I realized that I realllllly needed to take a step back.  The crying and fighting with my husband weren’t worth it at all.  It wasn’t until I told myself that it was okay not to be the best immediately that I sort of allowed myself to relax a little. I still am freaked out…I’m worried that I’m having an open house this weekend and no one will come, but then I have to remind myself that I can only do what is in my control. 

That in mind, I’ll clean my house, I’ll make cookies, I’ll ENJOY myself, and I’ll let something be out of my control, because I’ve had an iron grip on that control for so long that my hands have cramps. It’s time to let them relax.  

Okay..brain dump here readers—answer these questions and get a prize.  Okay you won’t get a prize but I’ll write more;).

Who has read 50 Shades of Grey? Am I the only person that didn’t like it? Well…me and the 400 ppl on Amazon that said that they didn’t like it. 

Anyone else feel an incessant need to move their furniture at least once a month? I move my living room furniture constantly. 

Recipes—any new ones?  I just threw some quinoa, veggies and chicken together for lunch and it was tolerable…I may even go so far as saying it was good. 

Time management…what is that? 

Sleepy? I am, so I’m going to bed now.  

DIY Nasal Saline Rinse Solution

I hab a cold (said in most pitiful of voices). I always seem to have colds or some sort of congestion between being around kids, and having sinuses that are chronically swollen. People have been telling me for years about how much I need to do nasal rinses, and while I did them sporadically, I've only recently started to do them regularly.  I'm sick of being sick, and  if they help keep me from getting horrible sinus infections that are having to be treated monthly with antibiotics, I'm willing to shoot pressurized water up my nose.

For the record they AREN'T sinus rinses. You do NOT rinse your sinuses, but rather your nasal passages. If we could rinse our sinuses we would get mondo infections because anything we inhaled could get in them.  This little disclaimer was brought to you by my old ENT who got verrry annoyed when people talked about how wonderful sinus rinses were.