Immunity

I looked out the window this morning and saw a few buds starting to come out on the trees. I stop. I look closer. Yes. Those are definitely buds on the trees. Wait a freakin' minute. I walk over to the calendar and check the date. It's March 30. Wait another minute. It's spring. It's spring already? I check about three more times before I actually believe it. The winter is over.

But...I didn't get the flu.
I didn't spend three months straight fighting off repeated sinus infections.
I didn't have to use up all of my sick days.
I didn't buy a small stock share in Kleenex to account for the amount of tissues I typically go through on an average winter day.

I didn't go to the doctor ONCE!

I don't think you can really appreciate how insane this is unless you've known me for awhile. The joke my husband and I have is that if we are both in a huge crowd, he can find me by just following the sound of my throat clearing and hacking cough. The joke is that I'd be the shittiest ninja ever because you can ALWAYS hear me coming. *COUGH COUGH SNEEZE COUGH AAAHHHEEEMMMMMMM* I typically spend more time apologizing for blowing my nose than I do talking during a conversation. Winter for me has ALWAYS meant debilitating colds, flus, viruses, and infections. My doctor may as well book me a weekly appointment in the winter just based on the assumption that I'll need to come in. I should have just hooked up a Z-Pack to myself intravenously. As it goes, I associate winter with my head weighing 6000 pounds and wanting to do nothing but sleep. When I started working with kids it escalated to unthinkable levels. I was sick from October to May.

But not this winter.

So what's changed? Well, I'm sure on some level being surrounded by sick kids has had to boost my immune system's desire to fight the never ending bugs that go around. But I've been working with kids for years now. That would have happened after my first year. So in my opinion? I have to attribute it to something else.
I'm getting well. My mind and body are healing. The only difference between this winter and last winter is that I've been going for my MFR treatments. Something tells me this has HAD to play a part in all of this. I can't really explain why or how. But I can't really explain what else it would be. My growing positive attitude and determination certainly can't hurt either. But regardless of the reason, regardless of the actual explanation, something has changed. I almost didn't realize it until today.

I'm actually changing.

American Psycho

I consider this one of the best openings of a movie...pretty much ever. American Psycho is one of my favorites. I used to identify a lot with Patrick Bateman's total inability to connect with himself or the world around him ("I simply am not there."). Granted I never quite identified with his murderous rampages, but this movie does an excellent job of portraying someone so incredibly disconnected that murderous rampages become as commonplace as brushing your teeth. Amazing movie. Even more amazing and disturbing in its book form.
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis- check it out only if your stomach is strong.
The last 30 seconds or so of this clip are my favorite...but thankfully the similarities between myself and Patrick are fading more and more every day.

Flash Forward

*Disclaimer- I cannot be held responsible for the amount of times I say "fuck" in the following entry. *
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My sister Susan called me this morning because she was delirious with a high fever and had no one to pick Kira up from school. Vernon was working late. So Aunt Lorraine canceled her afternoon (the parents nearly killed me so I scheduled them all for tomorrow and shall work for 9 hours with no break...awesome) to go get Kira from school. Her school is about 5 minutes from where I work, so while it wouldn't take me long to get there, my sister was totally out of it and I wanted to stay with her until Vernon got home from work.

Well, let me tell you something. I was not prepared for the psychological impact something as simple as picking a 4 year old up from preschool would have. I mean I love kids. I adore them. I have a knack for getting on their level and have no problem being completely ridiculous to entertain them. If you saw me at work you would probably think I had completely lost my mind. The amount of singing, dancing, jumping around, and squealing "good job" that I do ...it all borders on insanity. But for the most part the kids love it. And so do I. Hence the problem isn't that I'm not used to kids or that I don't like kids. I love em. It's just...sometimes I don't know how ready I am for them at this time.

Well.. let me tell you...climbing into the driver's seat of my sister's Volvo station wagon with the car seat in the back? A little bit I broke out in hives. Suddenly I found myself driving cautiously and taking extra time to make left hand turns. I pulled into Kira's preschool and felt my chest tighten just a bit. "It's your niece, she needs you, just go in and get her."
I walked up to the door and felt my heart pounding. I checked in (so they knew I was Aunt Lorraine and not some crazy psycho killer) and turned the corner to Kira's classroom. I can't be completely sure, but I may have heard the jaws theme playing somewhere in the background. Holy shit. This was the kind of thing MOMS do! I am not a mom! WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE!!
No, there was no turning back now. I walk into the classroom and immediately see Kira. Her face lights up and she runs to give me a big hug. Ok, I have my smooshy niece giving me hugs. I'm in a good place. "Oh, you must be Susan's sister!" I look up and see three women standing there. The teachers. I'm meeting her teachers. "Yea, yea I am." Some awkward exchange takes place about someone the teacher knows that also knows my sister who I may know too. I have no fucking clue who this woman is talking about but I act like I know EXACTLY who she is talking about. "OOHH!! Pete's wife!! Nice to MEET you!!"
I'm sure I look normal enough but everything in my brain is saying "CODE RED! CODE RED! ABORT MISSION! GET OUT!!"
Kira shoves a handful of papers into my arms. What the hell is this stuff? Some work sheets, a snack menu, some notices. I know the teacher is trying to talk to me again. Something about one of the notices and something I have to tell my sister. Oh christ. Parent stuff. I zone out and have no clue what it was she told me.
I take Kira to her locker and try to sort out what I need to get together. Coat, hat, mittens, the papers, her special toy, a special treat, some other special fucking this or that. Jesus christ, this kid has more in her locker at age four than I did in high school. But no big deal. I dress kids every day at work. Sweater, coat, hat, blah blah blah. But wait, I'm not just sending this one off to mom. I have to make sure this one gets home. Warmly. Ok crap. Let me unzip her coat and make sure I buttoned her sweater. Ok, yea, I did. Zip, snap, off we go. I take her hand.

Oh my god. I'm walking through a preschool with a kid in my hand. A kid I'm taking home. I mean not MY home but still. My heart beats a little faster as I discuss her day with her on the way to the car. "Ok Kira, sweetness, please get in your carseat." I'm buckling her in and my sister isn't here. This is mom stuff....and I have to drive her home now!!!!!!!! I have to drive a four year old home in a Volvo fucking station wagon while the Wiggles play on the radio and she talks about circle time and HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!

I start to panic. I flash forward and flip out. In my mind I have aged 10 years, I'm 20 pounds heavier, I haven't had sex in three weeks, my house is a mess, children are screaming, I'm complaining about my stretch marks, I don't know what's for dinner, OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

I pull into Susan's driveway. Get the FUCK out of the car!!! We go inside. I see my sister and of course act like this was no big deal. Sure, whatever, she had a fun day. Yippee. Let's have a snack and play pretty pretty princess. Which is exactly what we did.

So listen. The next time someone asks me whether or not I'm having kids yet, whether or not I'm pregnant yet, how many times I've had sex this week, and whether or not I "went for it" when I did...don't take it personally when I shoot you the look of fucking death. (Do people have no boundaries anymore or is it just me??) I don't currently want to hear about it. Some day I may desperately want kids. From time to time I do. My hormones rage and I get baby fever. And then I remember that I can't give them back when they're mine. And then I ALSO remember that I am just STARTING to feel better and saner, and that maybe sending my body into an extremely stressful state with my hormones raging to all crazy hell may not be the best option for someone who is JUST starting to feel normal. Am I nuts here? Or is it everyone else...
Everyone tells me I'll be a great mom. I can't decide if they mean it or if that's just what you say. And maybe the fact that my own mother wasn't quite cut out for the job has a lot to do with it (ok, I know it does...it's just that having a uterus does not necessarily mean you are cut out for motherhood and I think people forget that sometimes...). But let me be. I'll come to that decision when the time is right. If the time is tomorrow, then it's tomorrow. If it's in 10 years, then it's in 10 years. If it's never, it's never. But it's our decision to make, thank you very much.

The Misanthrope

I find that examining who I used to be is a good way to change. So look at me. I look like a happy kid, right? I'm sure at this point (I'm about 3 here) I probably was.  Sometimes I think back to childhood though and see it as this long torturous process that never seemed to end.  In some ways, I feel like I've been waiting to be 30 since I was about 5.  As  I've expressed before, I was not your average kid. I mean I'll say it...I was downright weird. For starers, I was terrified of everything. I wouldn't so much as go downstairs alone for fear that someone was going to come and kill me. People were all there to harm me. I don't know where I developed this intense distrust of other people, but I was scared of everyone I didn't know and most people I knew for that matter. (Someday perhaps I will delve further into the plethora of bizarre "half memories" I have yet to be able to fully pull out of my subconscious, but that I very desperately want to so I could perhaps figure out who scared me so much). Anyway, I was absolutely the kid on the block who was made fun of, beat up, but still played with (they needed SOMEONE to be goalie every time...which I sucked at thank you very much).  I wish I could explain what it was about me that made it evident to everyone else that I wasn't going to fit in. I see it with the kids I work with now. For whatever reason, they just know who the weird kids are.  I just remember saying and thinking things that would make other kids look at me like I was absolutely insane. I remember so vividly trying to figure out why the leaves were green while everyone else just wanted to climb the tree.  So I'd climb it too. But my brain never stopped moving. I guess I'm still that way.

The best thing is though, the kids I see who are just like me, they don't care that they don't fit in. I think deep down I sort of liked that people didn't get me. It made me feel different, but I was never sad about that. Granted, I never liked being made fun of and beat up, but I never felt like I was going to change. I never felt I had to conform to make people like me. 

Of course then come your teens. For high school, I went to an all-girls Catholic school in New Jersey. I was there on a scholarship. There were high academic qualifications for your "average" person to get in, but mostly everyone else was there because their daddies were rich or they played sports really well. It was an amazing school academically, but I just remember thinking it was going to be a shit show. For the most part I was right. I excelled in school but mostly kept to myself.  I found a few people I could tolerate and  had a fun time in high school in the end, but regardless, I became your typical depressed angry teen. In my typical teen eyes, the world just seemed to be turning against me.  My family was a circus, my mother died,  I had a nasty older (much too old) boyfriend who I cannot begin to describe the multitude of unspeakable things he did to fuck my perception of myself, relationships, and men in general. This only exacerbated my horrible self image and image of the world. Eventually, everything made me angry. Everyone made me angry. I remember more than one occasion where I'd leave class to use the bathroom and would just sit in there so I didn't have to look at people. The nuns would come rushing in convinced they were going to find me slumped over the sink, wrists slit in a pool of my own blood. (not a joke here, someone actually said that to me). But I can see how the weird kid turns into the angry teen.  I was frustrated by humanity. My tendency towards becoming a misanthrope clearly started early on. I didn't understand why everyone else didn't just "get it."  I'd think...why are people so ridiculous? Look at them!!! How do they all flit around mindlessly just buying crap, listening to crap, ingesting crap, living a life full of total crap without a care in the world!?!? Do they just not have coherent thoughts? Do they just never think? Do I think too much? 

Yes. Yes I do.

So what, then, happens to the weird kid and the angry teen as an adult? 

They get into politics and indie music and write a blog.

My Atheism and My Spirtuality

Polls show that one of the most discriminated against minorities in the United States happens to be....atheists. Now personally, I would probably never have noticed this if I had not spent a year in Tennessee. I'm a New Yorker. I probably know more non-believers than I do believers. But after spending that fateful year down south, I saw first hand how terrified people can be by something as simple as a different belief (or non-belief).
In any event, this made me feel it was very important to support things like separation of church and state, freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and the like. Because the fact of the matter is, I don't believe in a god of any kind. And the big question I am quite used to by this point is....why not?

I was raised Catholic. Well, sort of Catholic. My family was never religious. In my mother's last few years she became fanatically religious but I wonder now if this wasn't some sort of symptom of her illness we just never knew about. But I did go to Catholic school my entire life. From Kindergarten through all girls Catholic High School through a Jesuit College...(college was a coincidence). So I had my fill of religion. The thing was, I was not your typical kid. I don't know if I was just beyond my years or outside the boundaries of your average person's thought processes (maybe a little bit of both) but I simply could not look at the world around me...or anything I was told for that matter...and take it "as is." So for me, it went something like this.

3rd grade- Sr. Lynne's class- we're learning about how people who have been introduced to God must accept him. If the don't accept him, they are choosing to turn their back on him. This is apparently bad. I raise my hand:
"But that doesn't make sense. If I grew up in a tribe in the jungle, I wouldn't believe you either."
I lose my recess and have to stay inside with Sr. Lynne.

6th grade- Mrs. Gerish's class- We're learning about the origins of the universe. I raise my hand:
"If everything has to come from somewhere, and that's why we should believe in God, then where did God come from?"
"He didn't come from anywhere, he always was."
"But you just said everything had to come from somewhere"
"Well he doesn't count in that."
"That makes no sense"
My mom is called in for a "meeting."

8th grade- Sr. Pat's class- We're learning about the "power of prayer." I raise my hand:
"But prayer doesn't make any sense. If your prayers are answered, it's because you prayed. If your prayers AREN'T answered, it's because it was God's will. That's pretty convenient, no?"
I am forced to have a "sit down" with Sr. Pat and the principal.

It went on like this for a long time. The fact was, I was more just scared of what I had learned in school. So I "believed" it for a time. But eventually this no longer hacked it. The more I thought about it, the less I could wrap my head around the things I had learned. The less I could actually imagine that the universe was created by someone or something beyond us.

Somewhere in high school, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'd already read the bible cover to cover enough times to make my head spin. I could recite every bit of dogma from the Catholic church. I knew exactly what I was going to hell for. Now it was time to expand. I started researching religions. Anything and everything. From Protestants to Mormons to Ancient Greek Mythology, for years I looked into it all. My conclusions, after much research and thought, were that religion was man made. It was no more than a social phenomenon. Religion (or some variation of it) went back to the beginning of time. Before they had the science or the knowledge to explain things, humans explained the unexplainable by attributing it to something greater than themselves. We can't see where the rain comes from. There must be someone making it in the sky.
Eventually this evolved. All it took was one influential charismatic person with a big idea and enough people to listen. Christians had Jesus, Muslims had Mohammed, Mormons had Joseph Smith, hell even Scientologists had L.Ron Hubbard and Tom Cruise!! Next thing you know, people follow. Some religions are still just cults because not enough people sign up. But as soon as the numbers add up, there you have it. A bonified religion. More often then not, it can spread like wildfire once enough people say it's got merit. Mormonism is one of the fastest growing religions out there and it was only created in the 1830's by an average man (Joseph Smith) who claimed he was visited by an angel who gave him a sacred book. Or Scientology which was based on a book by a science fiction writer (Dianetics by L.Ron Hubbard, first published in the 1950's- caught on big in the 80's). And the more research I do, the more I realize that it's all a man made endeavor. Human nature is to look for answers. For me, science gives me the answers I seek. But the history of religion is what really turned me away from it. For me, it's not about that lack of proof in religion as much as the proof of contradiction. The contradictions that exist are enough to nullify the whole idea of a religion formed from direct contact with an all powerful being. I could go on about hundreds of contradictions in the Catholic church. Here's just one:

The Pope is chosen by God and is a direct messenger of God so we must follow him. He is infallible.
Well, he is infallible only when he sits in that special chair. When he's not in the chair that doesn't count.
Ok. So..the Pope is chosen by God and is a direct messenger of God, so we must follow him. He is infallible when he is in his special chair.
Well, except that one pope (who was it, Leo X?) who was selling tickets to heaven to raise money for the church and said this was okay from the special chair.
So...the Pope is chosen by God and is a direct messenger of God, and we must follow him, except when he is a corrupt shady pope selling tickets to heaven from the special chair. That was just some crazy mistake.

That right there tells me something has to be a little off. I'm not poking fun here, I'm just explaining how it played out for me.

Spirituality for Me

In the end, I am fine with my atheism. In fact, I am happy with it. People tend to think that not believing in a god means that my life has no purpose, my life is empty, my life is without spirit. This couldn't be farther from the truth. For me, life cannot be as simple as waiting for a prayer to be answered. For me, I have to be the greatest force in my own life. I have to be willing to make things happen. While this may seem scary to some, it is empowering to me. I am not a passive character in a life that is happening to me. I am the only force. Additionally, by not believing in god I do not believe in an after life. For this reason, I believe that this life is my only one to live. I believe that I must live this life to my best and greatest potential as I do not get another chance. For this reason, I believe I see the beauty in this world as it is in the here and now. A gorgeous tree is as gorgeous as it can ever be. There will be no "second life" for me to appreciate this tree into eternity. I have to take it in, here and now. I believe in energy (not supernatural, but natural) that exists in our universe and flows in and out of everything. I feel that I can be connected to my environment and to others in this sense. I believe that people's moral codes should be intrinsic. I act morally because it is the right thing to do. Not because I am afraid of punishment or eternal damnation. To say one cannot have morals without religion is to say that one walks around daily, not committing heinous acts ONLY because they are afraid of punishment by a god. We all know this is not the case. (most of the time, lions and tigers and other predators starving during a drought won't eat each other. Not because God told them not to, but because instinct is to be good to your own kind. Of course there is always a bad apple in the bunch, but for the most part this doesn't happen). I intend to raise my (hypothetical) children to question things and decide for themselves. If they decide they want god in their lives, go for it.
And as I have said before, I have no problem with you or your religion. If it provides you with comfort, then be happy with it. On that note, allow me (and other atheists) the same respect.

Some good reading on this topic:
The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
Why I Am Not A Christian by Bertrand Russell

Death Toll Hits 4000

The American death toll in Iraq has officially exceeded 4,000 deaths as of today. Let's not even try to calculate the number of injured and psychologically damaged. The fact that I have been protesting this war since its start in 2003 (back when I was the vast minority, back when everyone though I was a crazy anti-patriot, back when I knew I was right no matter what everyone said) should be enough to make the point that I am simply disgusted. I've been against this war before I even knew Chris was going to have to go fight in it (twice!).

Let me back up. I've always been politically active. As it so happens, my views lean way far to the political left. But regardless of which way I lean, I've always felt that the only way you can change things and the only way you have the right to complain about things not changing, is if you get off your ass and get informed. Then you get out and vote. On that note, I've been against President Bush since day one. When he "won" the election in 2000, I was outraged. I knew then and there that this was going to get ugly. In 2004, I was in TN for the election (Chris was stationed there with the army). My political crusade leapt to new heights, as this was after Chris served one deployment to Iraq and it seemed likely that he would serve another (which he did). I felt that being in TN meant that I had to try to make a difference. I protested, campaigned, yelled, screamed, went completely off the wall trying to get people down there to see things from my point of view. I'm a New Yorker with a husband in the military and I AM AGAINST THIS WAR!! WE are against it. We don't want Bush winning!!
But to no avail. I actually had the following conversation with a nurse at the hospital I worked at.
Nurse: "Can you believe John Kerry? What an idiot."
Me: "I fully intend to vote for John Kerry and I'd like to tell you why you should too."
Nurse: "No way. I won't vote for anyone as long as they support gay marriage and abortion. I believe in voting with the Christians."
Me: "I don't think war is a very Christian ideal, is it?"
Nurse: "I don't care about all that. God supports Bush because he's a real Christian. Anyone who supports gays isn't a Christian."

"I don't care about all that," she says. Oh you know, that little WAR going on. Pish posh! There are gays trying to get married! How can you sleep at night!?!
Yes, because as I recall in the New Testament, Jesus preached things like "intolerance" and "war-mongering" all the time. How silly of me to forget.

So, in 2004, this is what we were dealing with. And this was not unlike many conversations I had with people down in TN. They would have preferred that thousands of innocent people die in a senseless war than to let two guys live happily ever after. When the election was called in favor of Bush, I was at work and I literally burst into tears. Besides the fact that I knew that now Chris would most definitely be going back to Iraq, I knew this country was headed for some dark dark times.

Hate to say I told you so.

I sit here today reading article after article about the death toll in Iraq. The part that really gets to me is this. Bush sits there pleading for us not to "allow these men to have died in vain." What he is trying to say is, if you don't support my war, then you're letting these men die for nothing. If you don't keep this war going, then you're telling these men they aren't worth a thing. But you're forgetting something, Mr. President. YOU let them die. We just wanted to bring them home. YOU let them die trying desperately to believe in a war that had no merit, just so they could deal with what they were being forced to do every day. That blood is certainly not on OUR hands. How dare he make a statement like that, stating that these men and women are meaningless unless his "grand vision" is achieved. It makes me sick.

Let's not let this continue any longer than it already has.
www.barackobama.com



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A Word on Lyme's Disease

Well, I can't really complain. Today is the first day in awhile that I've had a bad pain day. Granted after my last PT appointment I was in pain for several days, but that was more localized to where work was done. This is more my typical no reason pain. The "I sat for too long" or "I moved the wrong way" pain. My back is just raging today. My knees feel a little bit like death. But...I'm in fairly good spirits!!

Though Lyme Season is just around the corner. I have to admit, I have to try really hard not to harbor a deep hatred for the deer that hang around in my neighborhood. I can't stress enough how protecting yourself against ticks is no joke. When I go on a hike, you'd swear I was going on some sort of extended expedition to the center of the earth. Besides drenching myself in (horrifically poisonous) bug repellent, I wear long pants, calf high hiking socks that...yes...I pull up to my calves, ankle high boots, the works. And despite all this, I still got bitten by a tick about a year or so ago on a hike up at Bear Mountain. Thankfully I was already in the midst of Lyme treatment so I was covered. But I'm sure that if that was a Lyme infected tick...well it didn't help. Not to mention the Babesiosis....yes, another tick borne illness that I had. The doctors don't know WHEN I contracted Lyme's disease. I have no recollection of a tick bit or a bulls-eye rash. The area I live in is a Lyme hot spot. Docs say I could have contracted it toddling around my backyard before I could even talk. I worked as a lake lifeguard at a camp in northern Rockland for several summers and I wandered those woods every day not thinking twice about ticks. So the potential for my early infection was definitely there. Lyme goes through stages. You can have horrible symptoms for a few months, and then nothing. Lyme can lie dormant for years until something drags it out of it's little corner and BAM! There goes life as you once knew it. So despite not knowing WHEN I contracted Lyme, I definitely reached a serious exacerbation of symptoms that had slowly been building over the years. At the height of my worse stage, when the symptoms were absolutely raging, I was a mess.

The joint pain was just the start of it. It wasn't just simple joint pain either. It was intense and constant. Then in addition to the joint pain I developed overall muscle aches. Constant. I noticed strange neurological symptoms such as random numbness and nerve sensations all over my body. My vision started getting blurry and I developed a large number of "floaters" in my visual field (those never did leave). Then came the headaches. Blinding headaches. My mood was completely labile, even more than was normal for me. My frustration tolerance diminished to almost nothing. But with all of this, it took the last and final symptom for me to finally give in and go to a doctor.

That would be the memory loss. And I don't mean "Gee, things are a little fuzzy." I'm talking intense. I have always had an exceptional memory. My version of "studying" as a kid was to re-read my notes once. Just by doing that, I would have them memorized word for word. Literally...word for word. Photographic memory. Now granted as I got a little older, into my later teens, etc...it took a little more effort. But for the most part, always solid. All of a sudden though, I'd say around two years ago, I started forgetting little things. I was only in my mid-twenties. There was no reason for this. Then it went from little things to big things. And more frequently. I remember several times where I was looking a kid's chart at work to get their birthdate...and by the time I closed the chart, I'd already forgotten it. Not just second guessed myself. Completely forgotten it! Then my friends started telling me that I was telling the same stories or asking the same questions over and over. Suddenly I had people telling me about entire conversations we had had but I did not remember them in the least. Next thing I knew, entire parts of my day were missing. I'd be getting ready for bed thinking about my day and would find myself saying "I know I went somewhere after work, but where did I go??" and I wasn't able to remember. This scared the hell out of me.
Thankfully, my doctor referred me to a doctor who was knowledgeable about Lyme (though he had absolutely horrible bedside manner and hence I won't recommend him here. I am a medical professional, so I can hack it. But your average person...no). He did, however, know his stuff about Lyme. The minute I got on antibiotics I noticed my memory coming back. It took many months of antibiotics for me to actually feel relief, and as Lyme never really goes away I still have many symptoms. My memory never did return to the level it was once at. I like to say that Lyme made me dumber. New information just does not stick the way it used to. I notice it most though in the fact that I am now a horrible historian. I cannot place events to a year , a day, or a date. If you ask me how old my dog is I have to count backwards from major events in my life to figure out what year it was when I got him and then figure out what year he was born. If you ask me what day I hung out with so and so last week, I have to sit and think whether it was Tuesday or Thursday for example based on the constants of those days. "Well, I always watch Lost on Thursday nights. I didn't watch Lost the night I saw so and so. It must have been Tuesday." That really pisses me off as my photographic memory was always a serious strong point of mine. But it has definitely improved and I take gains to flex my intellectual muscles daily.

So until I can somehow eradicate every deer and/or tick, don't make fun of me if you see me moseying up the hiking trail, calve high hiking socks and all...

Digitalism and a media intensive blog entry

Happy Easter, for starters.... thankfully America's hyper-commercialism of all things holiday related means that I can celebrate Easter, Xmas,...the whole nine yards. Xmas=Santa Claus. Easter=Easter Bunny. Purely social holidays. You get the point...

Last night I went with Stephen, Jocelyn, Chris, and Joce's brother Justin to a concert at Webster Hall. It was a group called Digitalism. (Check out the pics from it here- pretty sweet lighting effects) I'd never heard them before but we went on Justin's recommendation. It was a great live show. Can't say I'd buy the CD and chill to it, but it was a good time live. It was somewhere in between techno (not dance techno though) and rock, as there was a combination of machines and live instruments and vocals. Not my typical kid of music, but the combo made for some very interesting stuff and great live. Here's a short clip of some of it...


Granted it was mildly seizure inducing and probably would have been more interesting if I was on some sort of drug, but being that that's not my thing it was still a really good time. My knees and back didn't exactly appreciate all the jumping around. It was a general admission show and once we staked out a spot there was really no avoiding the jumping. I mean why bother going to a show if you aren't going to catch whatever vibe is going on? It did bring me back to my high school days though, bouncing around from punk show to ska show to whatever random angry teen gathering I could find. I remember my first show. Shelter and Unwritten Law were playing (some time in 1995 I'd say) and I took a boot to the face. It bled profusely and I felt totally kickass going to school the next week with a killer gash on my cheek. I have to say, considering the scene I hung around in it's a lucky thing I was such a good kid.
In all my days, I've never even tried a cigarette. Nasty. I drank a normal amount in high school and early college but enough to be totally done with it by the time I turned 21. Never to the point of ridiculousness. Just your normal weekend bit. But my health and sanity told me it was best to just move on and give up alcohol all together as it never really agreed with me much. I stopped drinking caffeine about 8 years ago. My biggest vice was probably the aspertame in my caffeine-free diet cokes, but I've even given those up now and just drink water.
However, I am off my medications now. So technically, I CAN drink if I want to. It's not to say I never ever drink. I just rarely drink. Maybe one or two beers for an occasion. Then for those special occasions, maybe a bit more. But that's exceedingly rare. Before the concert, Justin did decide that we should all chug a beer to see who finishes first. My brother took the footage (we're at his place in Hoboken). Needless to say, I did not win; I hardly drank anything and I almost choked as it was Coors Light (nasty!) but I did have flashbacks to freshman year of college. Chris's reaction to the bad beer is priceless, and Justin is an animal.

Ordination

So, I ordained myself this morning.
Yes, you heard me correctly. For just $29.95 I ordered the "Basic Ordination Package" from openordination.org
I know what you're saying. You're an atheist, Lorraine. So perhaps I should explain.

My friends Kate and Jim are getting married in July. They chose to get married on the bay out on Long Island where they live. They are more or less agnostic but were going to try to have the Catholic wedding thing to please all the grandparents, great aunts, etc. (I did that...it was not worth it...I will blog about the psychotic priest who married me a little later).
Well, it turns out god does not live on the bay. Yes, amidst all the beauty and glory of the ocean, god cannot be found. No, no, not unless you are in a man made church. Only there can the all powerful oversee your wedding vows. So Kate and Jim said to hell with grandma. And to hell with the Catholic church. (I believe Jim's exact words were "God is not invited to our wedding anyway!").
The next obvious thing to do would be to hire one of those fake priests who dress up but aren't really a priest. My brother had one at his wedding on the beach (where god was also not invited due to his being outdoors). Upon researching this, however, they found that ANYone can become ordained and perform a wedding. All you need to do is get a certificate. $30 and BAM, I can say your vows and sign your marriage license.
I was beyond flattered when they asked me. Kate basically said they are not doing the whole bridal party thing (aside from sisters and brothers) but they still wanted me to be involved. I believe the first choice was Jim's long time best friend from childhood, but that friend asked his Catholic priest if his performing a wedding would be okay in the eyes of god. Of course the Catholic church said no. So he said no. And as Kate put it, "You are the most godless person I know, so will you marry us?" Why YES! Yes I will!!
The only tricky part was choosing a title. My options were "Pastor, Reverend, or Cleric." I wanted to put "Ye Almighty Godless" just for kicks, but you have to pay $5.00 extra for a "personalized title." I went with Cleric as it sounded the least religious, even though I know that it means of the clergy. So in 5-10 days I should be receiving my official certification card (for an extra $10 I could have gotten a placard for my car that allows me special parking for when I am performing a wedding, but when in the hell am I going to do this again? Though I hear it can be a lucrative little side business...)

Now for all the religious out there, don't take it personally. Your devotion to whatever religion you believe in does not bother me in the least. I'll be sure to blog about my atheism and my version of spirituality at some point, as this is a big part of well being, but I don't quite have the time for all that right now. But I like to say this is a live and let live issue. Don't condemn me to hell (I don't believe in it anyhow) and I won't try to turn you away from god. Coexistence is a lovely lovely thing.

I Am Not "Lovin'" It

I was thinking I'd be doing something a little more interesting than blogging tonight, but as Chris is currently glued to the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament, I've got some time to kill...
Which brings me to the commercial I just heard. It's a McDonald's commercial bragging about the fact that their hamburgers are made of...MEAT!!! Yes, that's right folks, OUR burgers are actually made of MEAT! We're not going to tell you what parts of the meat exactly, but you should buy OUR shit food, because it's made of meat (as opposed to what, leather?). This just brings me to the disturbing topic of fast food.

I will never understand it. People eat fast food on a regular basis as if it's actually...I don't know...real food. As a kid, I was never allowed to eat the stuff. I literally cannot remember a single trip to McDonald's. I do have a vague memory of my father coming home with a bucket of some sort of chicken on one occasion, but there must have been some crazy reason for this.
I am amazed at the way dinner works for most people these days. From working with kids, I have heard a million stories of parents making separate "kid friendly" meals for each child because they all want something different. !!? What? I'm sorry? You cook four different dinners? And then when they complain you take them to Burger King? Hold the freakin' phone.

Dinner at the DeNichilo's went like this.

Here is what's for dinner.
Now eat it.
I would promptly refuse whatever it was.
Grandma Fedofsky would then roll over in her wheelchair and shove that spoon full of pasta fagioli down my em-effing throat whether I liked it or not.

Now I'm not saying this is the best approach. But if I refused dinner then I simply did not get any. And you know what? Eventually I had to eat something. And it wasn't Burger King. Don't get me wrong. I had a friend or two whose parents took me there once or twice. It was like walking into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. My eyes would light up and you'd swear I'd never seen a french fry before in my life. I'd down those chicken nuggets so fast I'd wonder if it wasn't all some sort of magnificent dream. I remember thinking, "When I grow up, I'm going to get chicken nuggets whenever I want them dammit!!"
But then I grew up. And suddenly it went from the forbidden fruit to downright repulsive. I have to say, I can't thank my parents and grandmother enough for making me eat real food. (I mean let's be honest, I have enough health problems without having been pumped full of McDonalds all through my childhood). I mean since when did "kid friendly" come to mean "fried processed crapola?" Why can't broccoli be kid friendly? Why can't kids eat REAL chicken instead of chicken nuggets? Why can't kids just eat whatever WE eat? Oh right. They can. Who knows, they may actually learn to like it once they realize you aren't going to run around like a maniac trying to please their every whim. And maybe it's because I don't have kids that I say this, but I like to think that if I do have kids, I won't make that frightful turn into the drive-thru.