Ascribed Meaning

I've always kept/ saved things; things that I then ascribe meaning to.

Like what?

1. An airplane toothpick from my first flight
2. The words to my 8th grade class song
3. My first belly button ring
4. 86+ stuffed animals (each with a name)
5. EVERY movie ticket
6. Newspapers from each birthday

I don't know why I keep them, but I do know that I HATE for them to be touched or to be lost. They become a part of me to the extent that it's hard to part with them.

So, I've been thinking about a tattoo a lot lately.

Why? It's permanent and the ultimate momento. Still, after 13 years of thinking about a tattoo, I've finally decided where I'd want it - my wrist.

The dilemma is now the what. What do I put?

I originally wanted to have the word "Selah". It's pretty and I love the meaning of it.

Then I thought about my husband's name. He is without a doubt the most significant person in my life. I'd place his name, but he won't let me. Yeah, a tattoo is very permanent. It's not like body jewelry; it's forever. Well, maybe that's what I want; it's something that will have meaning, and something that can never be taken away from me or lost in a hurricane.

You know what? This ascribed meaning stuff is probably about control.

Hmmmmm.

Each time I stop blogging, I soon learn how important it is for me.

Who Am I?

I had a brief chat with my bff about identity.

The question was "who am I?" Well, not me, but her. But while we were on her, I figured I'd pose the question to me.

Who am me? LMBO!

I dunno. Real talk.

With the emergence of new "memories" (more on that later) during therapy, I have no damn clue who I am. The why is multifaceted.

One why is that I lived my early years in the spotlight - TV, radio, modeling, acting. The entertainment industry is a farce. The only way to be "in" is to accept that you will be lied to and you will be required to lie to others. Live a lie ling enough and you soon believe the lie. Yeah, that's me.

Another "why" is that after I left the entertainment industry I tried to prolong the lie; it didn't work.

I have no idea where I was going with this post.

Hmmmm, well, I'm trying to find me. If you run into her, please send her home :-)

Inner Gypsie

I've lived in several states in my life, and in several places within each state.

In 2006, my credit report listed 30 residences! Yeah, I know. As much as I would like to say that they are all due to my love of travel or to jobs, they're not. I have perfected "fight or flight". I runaway. When things aren't great where I am, I move, and keep moving.

So, lately, I've been thinking about moving again. Where to? I don't know. Not sure. If I stay in America I was thinking Tennessee or North Carolina. If International, Italy for sure.

Not making any sudden moves right now, but I'm ready for whenever - Uhaul is around the corner and my passport is still valid, too.

New Past Time

My new past time has been peeling my fingers.

Yes, I know it's totally gross.

In the last 2 weeks, I've developed some strange disorder that causes my fingers to peel; not the palms, just the fingers. I can peel the skin off my fingers from tip to base like a banana.

I peel them off and actually enjoy it, but you know it was only a matter of time before OCD stepped in. Yup, my tweezer has become my best friend as I -with the precision of a surgeon- peel off layer and layer of skin.

How gross. This is my life.

UPDATE
I found out that the "disorder" is caused by stress. Go figure. Anyway, I bought some Eucerin and it's helping a lot.

Wow.

It's been a month...just about.

Wow.

What hasn't happened?

Instead of trying to account for everything that has occurred all in one post, I'll break it up, of course. Don't wanna bore you.

But I'm ok. I did have a lot of challenges with all my stuff - agoraphobia, eating disorders, bipolar, panic attacks. Yes, it's been a challenging month.

The biggest sadness came from Dobro. I wasn't expecting her passing to affect me like it did, but I couldn't shake it.

What's so great about blogging ins that you're able to form support systems behind the front page. Dobro was one support for me.

I love you all. I'm back.
RIP Dobro

Thunder Scares Me

Recently the heat wave in the DC metro area birthed perfect conditions for thunderstorms and of course those wretched tornadoes.

Maybe nature misunderstood.

I enjoy sleeping to RAIN, not THUNDER and LIGHTENING!

Power was knocked out a couple times, and I was VERY SCARED. I even contemplated sleeping under the stairs leading to the basement. Spine shaking thunder and crackling lightening really scare me; no really, they scare me.

My sister mentioned that she may have PTSD from experiencing hurricanes as kids. I think it's very possible that I have it, too. My fear of thunder/ lightening is really on another scale. And the thought of a tornado gives me IBS. In fact, the IBS/heartburn/ esophagus pain is back and it started around last Thursday when we were under tornado watch quite a bit.

I still remember the sound of an earthquake as a child. (Yes, there is a sound. It's kinda like a train whistle. Very eerie.) Anyway, I am very unnerved by natural disasters that are impossible to anticipate.

Hmmmmm, makes me see the need for therapy after natural disasters.

Can you imagine the fear in the hearts of people that lived through the tsunami, Katrina, and the billion tornadoes this season?

What On Earth Did I Do!?!?!?

Ok, um.

Last night I placed a glass of iced tea on the night stand. My plan was to drink it throughout the night .... you know, if I got too hot.

So, WHY ON EARTH is my cocoa butter container filled with iced tea?!?!?

I was so grossed out and alarmed, and was about to get paranoid and think that a homeless Japanese woman was living in my closet, but then I remembered - at one point, I started drinking the iced tea, but then I thought I felt something touch my lip, so I spit it out, but I thought I spit it into the glass!

I actually spit it into my cocoa butter.

I swear, I should get paid for being so special. Pun intended.

I've Been Cooking

Ok, now a lighter post. I think I've gotten all my angst out of my system.

So, I used to have trouble cooking meat; you know, chicken, beef, fish...animals.

I would make really weird food concoctions like - hotdogs with rice and green beans. The meal looks so ugly. Who wants to eat this tastless crap?

But I learned how to make salmon and rice, and have been eating it everyday for um... the last 2 months! This pic is of rice pilaf,and salmon on a bed of baby spinach! The thing on top of the salmon is a cherry preserve that I learned how to make!

My food actually tastes good! I save money and I feel kinda womanly and stuff...NOT!

Damn Knockers

Who knocks on random doors?

In the last 2 weeks, I've had 5, count em, 1-2-3-4-5 random people KNOCK on my door; and then, RING the bell!

Who were they?

I don't know. I never answer the door. I hate surprises. Random knocks and bell ringing disturbs my peace and makes me paranoid. I don't know anyone in this town, so I ain't expecting no visitors!

So guess what?

KNOCK UNTIL YOUR INTRUDING KNUCKLES BLEED!
One guy did leave a biz card about cutting my grass. So why was he knocking? Was he going to sell me on his grass cutting skills? Was there really something to discuss about grass cuttery?

Who KNOCKS on random doors to talk about grass?

Then I need to take 30 minutes to calm down from their intrusion.

Me & Talk Radio

For a couple months I was a talk radio junky; mainly political talk.

I have great thoughts. In my head, I have amazing points. In high school I was a great debater and won impromptu and extemporaneous speaking competitions.

And then I call in, and my brain start speeding.

The result: a bunch of shit gobbley gook.

The call ends and I beat myself up for sounding like an arse on the air. My self -esteem drops, I go under the bed and I'm in a "I'm so stupid" funk.

Not being able to get my thoughts together is a stress, so no more talk radio for a while, I'm gonna stick to writing.

Operation Start Over No. 93863428109419...

My Day This Far:

4am: Awake? What the hell for?

5am: Turn on the radio. I might as well be entertained.

7am: Geez. Still Awake.

8am: Startled out of sleep by mother calling. Ignore. Feeling drugged.

10am: Come on Butterfly, we can face the world.

10:15: In the shower. I finally rinse out the conditioner out of my hair. As I shower, I get light-headed and need to sit. It's too hot, I'm too hot. I lay down in the tub and pass out for a bit. I come to and finish with my shower. I must have gone too long without a bath. I'm now allergic to it.

10:45: Out of the shower, headed to kitchen for orange juice, Emergen-C, some tea and to write this post.

And now it's 10:50am.

I gotta have a plan today other than getting back into bed or laying on the couch under the covers. A failure to plan is planning to fail, isn't it?

Well, my body is in anxiety attack mode because I dread going outside. Yes, the agoraphobia is back. How do I feel? Well, no one can judge me at home. People will see that my skin is blotchy, I wear wigs, I'm a little fat in the tummy and notice that I act weird; and so it's safe here.

Ok, here comes the other part of the brain:

No Butterfly, you're focusing on your fears - False Expectations Appearing Real. You are much stronger than you give credit for. Remember the book "What Would You Do if You Had No Fear?"

Yes, I do.

What would you do today if you had no fear?

Ok, I would:

1. Go to three places where I want to work and try to get an interview on the spot.
2. I'd pitch my proposal to the local studio and start my modeling classes there.
3. I'd follow through with planning next Tuesday event.

Ok, so what's stopping you?

What if I don't get an interview? What if you do?
What is the studio isn't interested? What if they are?
What if I can't find a designer and models in time? What if you can?

Ok, I get the point.

It's so cliche, but I'll say it cuz you need to hear it. "Nothing beats a try." I think you are so afraid of being accountable and then messing up that you've simply stopped trying or you try and flake at the end. You are letting your bipolar disorder win.

Come on. I'll help you. Drink your juice, dry your hair and get dressed. We're going to find money.

Ready?

Not really, but ok.

On 3: 1-2-3 Let's Go!

Time 11:01am.

Stay Tuned.

Cable No Mo!

I did it!

I procrastinated very much yesterday, but I finally did it! I shut off my cable!

I'll most likely get Netflix in June or something, but for now, I'm actually feeling much more productive as I type.

Here's to an introspective and knowledge enhancing summer.

Gratitude Moment: Thankful that I mustered up the willpower to cancel the cable despite the strong pull to The Office, American Idol finale, and Blue Collar Comedy.

It's Gonna Be Genius!

I'm working on a ultra blog entitled "Theory of Relativity"; not like Albert Einstein.

(I tried researching his theory, and it sounds like gobbley gook. What the heck does it mean?)

Nopie, mine will go down in history be about interpersonal relations, and of course life as I see it.

The basic premise is that human understanding is relative to experience.

Want an example?

Ok, here's two:

* $1000 in the bank to some is GREAT, to others, it's reason for dread.

* Bipolar disorder is something to "shake" to some, for others it's life lived on a roller coaster.

Trust me, it's gonna be good :-)

What prompted it?

Well, the bipolar example came about after a conversation with my older sister last Sunday. She said that my brother's problems are rooted in his "lack of ambition and weed smoking."

When I tried to get her to understand that he has a REAL mental illness, she couldn't get it. I tried to use my experiences to help her get it, and her reply was as clueless and nonchalant as "Let them eat cake."

I love my sister, but much of her conversation was had with the bed (I put the phone down). Mental illness is not her reality. Her understanding of mental illness is relative to what she has seen and experienced.

Still, when I was in college, I had a girl tell me: "You're perfect. You'll never have anything to complain about? You're pretty, you're dating the star of the football team, you're thin, smart, you're perfect."

Isn't it ironic, that her words came during the time that I was in university mandated therapy?

I'm not gonna account the "pretty girl" blues. Rather, I want to ensure that I am more aware of how my reality is not THE reality. Still, there cannot be an absolute reality because everything is always relative to individual experience.

Oh, here's some good examples:

* A person who has always had the dream of a storybook wedding, can never understand people who elope;

* A person who needs to have a significant other can never understand people like Oprah who has a man, but chooses not to marry.

* Still, a woman who pines for a baby, can never understand those who chose not to have children.

I am so excited about writing that piece.

Anyway, I shut my cable off today, so Ill be writing A LOT!

Gratitude Moment: Thankful for moments of genius :-) in an at times cloudy brain.

I Do It, Too

One of the things that is very unnerving with my brother is that he talks to himself.

He is bipolar as well, but I've also heard terms like "schizo-affective" tossed around.

He talks to himself about anything and everything.

Witnessing it is unnerving, unable to make it stop is frustrating.

And then, someone at work told me "You're talking to yourself again", and it wasn't in the "oh-ha-ha-you're-talking-to-yourself" kinda way.

When I do talk to myself and people notice, I address it. I tell them that I talk to myself and I answer, too (people think it's cute to reply with the "as long as you don't answer" bullshit).

I'm doing it more, I think. I do it when I watch TV, in movies, drive. Maybe because I have less forced interaction with people.

It doesn't bother me; just an observation.

So, here's another question:Is admitting that you talk to yourself and comfortable telling others (me) better or more evolved/ self -aware than failing to admit (brother)?

Gratitude Moment: Thankful that I have a home where I am comfortable being me.

Me, Elmer & Little Hairs

Ok, so I read somewhere that if you put Elmers glue on your face and let it dry it'll get rid of all the pimple and blackheads and stuff.

So guess what I did?

I slathered Elmers glue ALL OVER MY FACE!

It felt good yet smelled like crap, but was weirdly fun.

I left it on, and um ... let's just say that taking it off was a B*TCH!

I so did not read the part about avoiding the eyebrows. It hurt like hell to take off! I had to wet my face to try to unglue the glue!

Then I discovered that I guess I have baby hair on my face, like peach fuzz, OMG, I'M A BEAR! OUCH!

Um, how about you don't put glue on your face. Just take my word for it.

That's my OCD in overdrive. I use a gazillion face products.

Gratitude Moment: Thankful that I got the glue out of my hairline.

TV-less Summer

I called Comcast today. I'm shutting the cable off at the end of this billing cycle!

Hooray! I am gonna force myself to read all those books and magazines.

Well actually, I want to spend the summer studying and sharing with hubby.

No TV this summer-o.

Gratitude Moment: Thankful that I'm not losing the cable because of money.

I Was Starving

When I first moved to New York, I was living with an aunt and uncle.

I love my uncle, but think the aunt is a ...well, begin the "say something nice challenge" now.

Anyway, during my first week in NYC, the magnetic strip on my debit card was, er, demagnetised. I couldn't get any money out of the ATM. I had a check, but couldn't get it cashed because I have it for 8 days and NYC law states that check must be cashed in 7 days.

I had no money, well, a couple dollars, but I saved it to ride the train for job interviews.

So, for 2 weeks I went to interviews I would buy 4 bananas in the morning; eat one for breakfast, 2 for lunch and then the last as a snack.

I was sooooo hungry.

I got the the house one evening, starving but drained and sad. I got online and got an AOL instant message from a man named "Composer4TV".

What did I have to lose? I told him I was starving; just seeking an opportunity to vent.

He told me to call him, and I did.

He prayed with me and I received a check in the mail the next day.

I was the hungriest I've ever been, and God sent an angel.

I've never met him.

Gratitude Moment: Thankful for strangers who do good for nothing.

Gratitude Moments

I've been forgetting to add them to the end of my posts, so I'm gonna give you five of them.

I'm thankful for:

1. Unexpected state tax returns.
2. The ability to control the thermostat.
3. Choices of what to eat.
4. A husband that prays with and for me.
5. The ability to get a job.

Life seems less stressful when I focus on blessings.

Random Thoughts

1. I enjoy squishing the tip of my nose, and hubby's.

2. How long does it take cook a steak? 20 minutes, maybe? So why when I go to Applebee's do I expect my steak AND potatoes and vegetables in 10 minutes?
3. I like raspy voices. You know that "I-drink-coffee-and-smoke-cigarettes" voice. Yeah, I love that.

4. There's been several tornadoes lately. I saw one on TV and it looked like how satan might look, but it is a natural act allowed by God. Hmmm I said we could hide under the 2nd floor stairs if one came close.

5. I think the phrase "git-r-done" is sexy as hell.

6. People either love or hate pretty people, like me.

7. Lately I've been feeling like spiders are crawling on my face or maybe it's spiderwebs.

8. I think my new office has spirits so I'm gonna burn some incense and rub blessed oil on the walls.

9. I'm getting more and more comfortable with being bipolar.

10. Hubby and I have a daughter teddy bear named Jessica Mikaela.

Oooops, I DId it Again

Earlier today I was stressing about work, and had challenges calming down.

Well, know I'm breathing through my mouth. Yup, I am totally psychosomatic.

I'm in flannels, with Eucalyptus oil on my chest and neck. This SUCKS!

This must go away.