May 2012
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28 Days Later – or 28 Days From NOW!

So apparently, it’s 28 days before the wedding.

That’s right, folks. In four weeks, there will be a big ass shindig that will go down in history (mine at least!) as fabulous, spectacular, and amazing.

And I cannot hardly wait!

I swear, one day I will just explode at work. All that will be left will be bits of Birdy clinging to things and maybe some grotesque smears on the drive through window.

However, that hasn’t happened yet so I’ll talk about what has happened.

We have updated the eRSVP page so that you can include any additional guests. We kind of derped out in regards to that and we are sorry!! But it’s better now. If you have already RSVP’d, do not worry about it. We’ll work it out for you. :)

Invites went out (albeit a little bit late), dresses ordered, purses and jewelry in the works, tuxes chosen and mostly fitted – dad even got his fitted!! Mom is working on her lovely dress. The cake is paid for and we have an amazing officiant.

Let me talk about this cake for a moment. It will be three tiers not including the “anniversary” tier which we are getting but not having on the official cake. The tiers are the bottom three of a normal wedding cake and thus are very fat and big. The cake will feed nearly 200 people so they will be big rounds of cake! It is being made by Mary’s Creative Cakery of Saginaw. The samples we had were DIVINE!

We chose strawberry (bottom left), white (middle left), and chocolate (middle right).

We chose strawberry (bottom left), white (middle left), and chocolate (middle right).

The top tiers (the anniversary and the official “top” tier) will be strawberry cake, the middle will be classic wedding white cake, and the bottom will be the rich chocolate cake. The entire thing will be frosted in Mary’s amazing butter cream which is sculptable like fondant but tastes way better. Between the layers will be cherry amaretto frosting for a bit more sweet. It will be decorated white on white with a scrolly pattern similar to the lanterns and a pearlescent sheen. Silk flowers in my colors will be used as accents and there will be grosgrain ribbons at the bottom of each layer. Soooo pretty…


This is an example cake from Mary’s that is very similar to mine in style.

Another thing to mention that hasn’t been posted here are the amazing floral arrangements made by my mother and I. She did most of the work honestly and I am so pleased with the way they turned out! They are simply gorgeous and I can’t get over them. This is my bouquet though it isn’t quite finished in the photo. We added a white satin wrap around the stems and then wrapped sheer ribbon around that for a lovely effect.

omg so pretties!!

My mother is a genius.

Another really big thing is our officiant – Reverend Brian Tuttle. This man has thus far been amazing and we haven’t even had the ceremony yet! He is so very thoughtful, kind, and charming. If you are getting married in the mid-Michigan area, I strongly suggest you look him up!

Lastly, if you are coming the wedding I cannot thank you enough and I look forward to seeing you! If you are not, do not fret! I know that your well-wishes will be with us and we very much look forward to when we next see you. To all of our friends and family, everywhere, we send out a huge LOVE YOU!

OH! YES! This is a big P.S. -

I GOT ALL A’S!! This means for the last year, I have maintained a high standard of academic excellence. My research paper on human fallacies (not human phalluses!) went over beautifully. All of my professors were amazing and I learned so much! Like last semester, I truly loved every second of my classes and felt like my mind was a dry sponge soaking up every word. I could not get enough and I have a feeling I will be yearning for more as soon as this wedding is off of my mind.

My path is clear before me and I will pursue it with all of my strength. I look forward to the journey as much as the destination.

I vow never to lose my wonder of the world again. I vow to always follow my dreams. Some years ago my mother gave me a book; “I Hope You Dance.” Well, mom. It took me some time but I am no longer afraid. I am not shy. I’m going to dance now and I will continue to do so for the rest of my days.

Whenever I feel the urge to do something, I will do it. And this goes beyond carnal desires into those more simple things – such as helping a stranger or feeling free to laugh when happy or amused. Simple things like literally stopping to smell the roses or finding sheer joy in being alive.

In fact, I find myself grateful for my life so very often. I find myself constantly trapped in reverie with the knowledge that I am alive. But I should save a deeper investigation of this bliss for its own post – it certainly deserves it!

5 Ways to Care/3 Types of Love

More to come when I get home~

  1. Five ways to show someone you care are:
    1. Listen. You may know what the other person is going through so much better and have it so much worse, but just stop and listen to them. You never know… they may be experiencing something you haven’t!
    2. Meet them half-way. What do you do when you like olives but not pineapple on your pizza but your friend likes pineapple but not olives? You get it made half and half. So work your life the same way: meet your loved ones half way. He loves gaming and I love hiking, so in the morning we go out for a hike and in the evening, we play games together.
    3. Praise. Meaningful, heartfelt praise is something so few people get today. In our fast-paced world of quarterly performance reviews, final exams, and speeding tickets, not too many people stop to tell others how good they are doing. Stop, look your loved one in the eye and tell them they are great. Just how much do you imagine you lit up their world just now?
    4. Share yourself. You’re not going it alone, you’ve got a loved one right next to you that wants to be a part of your life. Ask for help and enjoy their presence. As much as you want to care for them, they want to care for you so make it mutual: let yourself be loved.
    5. Don’t fight; discuss! If a disagreement occurs, don’t demonize your loved one. Instead, stop. Take a breath. Think about it. Smile and apologize. Then discuss. Keep your mind and your heart open and they will [hopefully] inspired to do the same.

What day was it again…?

Apparently… I have not included the wedding date here! So, without further ado…

 

Saturday, June the 9th, 2012 at 4pm

at the Grand Banquet and Conference Center in Essexville

 

There you go! :D

Money Manager! – The tale of one girl’s struggle to fight financial foolishness.

Just a snippet from a confession-style post I made on a school forum. :)

“I don’t make a lot of money… but wait! Yes I do! Sure I’m only pulling in $3k a month but that’s a lot more than some folks! And with my pre-hubby’s income counted in we should be sitting on quite a pile of cash. We don’t have very many bills and we have no debt.

So where is that stash of money we’re supposed to have?

Well, first off… I should know!! I should know where every cent is going. And I’m not talking about the pennies and dimes that fall between the car seats or get lost in the wash. I’m talking about the ones that run away from my bank account with each swipe of the debit card. Not knowing is a major problem. Couple that ignorance with a bad case of shopperitis and you’ve got a prognosis of no money.

My goal is straight-forward and no nonsense: I want to be more in control of my financial situation.

I want to know what I’m spending, and where and on what! Did I really need those fancy pens? Should we really be eating at Panera once a week? I’m starting to see where the money is “disappearing” to.

At the beginning of the year I made a commitment to stop frivolous spending and to be mature and realistic about my situation: I’m a shopaholic and spending makes me FEEL GOOD.

So to curb that behavior I will force myself to look my habit in it’s dirty, dollar-dazzled eye: I will document and analyze each purchase. I will force myself to confront head-on the moneys gone from my pockets into those of vendors.

At first it was a hard row to hoe. Keeping all of those receipts was a pain. I swear, vendors make them tiny and easily tearable just so you don’t keep them! If they look like trash they’ll just get tossed out and with them goes any recollection of the transaction they signified.

And I was honestly embarrassed… How could I routinely drop $20 on meals again and again? Especially considering how unhealthy they were… why did I pay so much for such bad food? How could I spend $44 on make-up? I’m getting married; who do I need to impress?!

But I’ve stuck with it and looking over the past week, I’m not embarrassed. I’m happy! I bought shoes for my wedding coming in way under budget (I got them for 1/5 the total amount I had set aside for them and they are PERFECT!) I bought my mom’s Mother’s Day present half off. I came in last week $35 under my proposed weekly budget of $125. This month of January I have saved $1056.

That’s right. One thousand and fifty-six US dollars. In one month.

I like this feeling of being responsible. It feels a lot better than a new shirt or a fancy, fattening dinner.

I think I just made a friend for life.”

Friday the 13th (The First of Three)

Nothing cheers a chilly evening like a heating blanket cranked up to the max, a warm cup of butterscotch tea, the memories of a satisfying day, and the anticipation of a relaxing evening. The satisfaction and relaxation today has brought were much needed and I find that many stresses that had been harrying me were relieved.

The inflammation caused by the tiff with my mother is going down. I stuck by pure apologies and admitting fault and will remain by those resolutions for the rest of my life. At times I find myself having difficulties communicating directly and in person to other members of the human race and while I pride myself greatly on my ability to be alone I feel at times it may lead to interpersonal complications. But with the healing taking place I’d rather not dwell on things past but instead work on bettering myself.

A few nights ago I suffered a bit of a bridal melt-down; likely the first of many more to come as time draws me towards that ever so important date. The pressures of so many points of obligation became compressed almost instantly upon my mind causing it to squirm in the throes of terror and aggravation. So many things have been completed but the list of necessary tasks seems to be endless. The initial sense of ease faded into something more ominous. Finances suddenly appeared to be very short and a suffocating hopelessness blanketed my thoughts. It was ever so inconvenient that this happened at work after a semi-busy day.

However being forced to be at work and to have my mind on other issues did return my sanity and calmness. The terror was swallowed and I continued to push through my day until I was home where Nick and I sat together and went over the things needing be done. We also analyzed the financial situation and while I still feel we are tottering on the brink of not making it everything seems so much more feasible. We even made a check list prioritized by the time frame in which the task needed to be completed and the monetary weight of the task. With this I have a very solidly built shield to keep the panic at bay.

That list had two tasks crossed off today: to go to Men’s Warehouse to get the gist of the tuxedos and a price range and to purchase the last two boxes of invitations. The visit at MW made me smile until my cheeks hurt. Nick looks GREAT in just the jacket – he will look amazing in the full suit. The prices are very reasonable, as well. The reality of everything seemed to be escalated by several levels today. On top of the already two great aspects of MW, if we rent five suits we get to take home a suit of our choices for free! So this means after the four groomsmen and Nick rent theirs he gets to go in and pick out one for himself to keep. Needless to say I believe they just got customers for life.

Paling in comparison though still a great feat we purchased the last two boxes of invitations, as I mentioned. This means we can start the fun process of writing them then the arduous process of printing them. I am so thankful for my large, noisy Potemkin. He is very precise and prints beautifully. When I watch him, I am highly entertained. I have developed a saying for the cats when they beg for food. “I give you kibble and all you do is make poop with it!” The same goes for my little Po-chop. I give him paper and ink and he poops out documents.

Though his final product is much more desirable than those created by the kittens.

Tax time is coming and I completed the FSA documents for the expenses in 2011. There is a grace period so anything I accrue before March 15th I can bill to last year’s FSA. Which is good because I still have a bit of money left in it.

And lastly: DINNER!

Salmon tikka, tumeric quinoa, steamed broccoli, and a baby spinach and fruit salad.

The diet has been going well as that meal is representative of what I have been eating. So much so that 2.5 pounds have already disappeared. This means only 14.5 pounds to go! I’m drawing near to my standard plateau weight and it will take a serious amount of will power and exercise to push through it. Hopefully the weather will warm so that I can get out and do some walking and then running and biking.

I will be 130 pounds by my wedding.

Resolutions

I’ve never been one for new year’s resolutions. I have always thought that if you are going to set your mind to something there’s no need to wait for a particular date to do it. That being said this is going to be the first time I will have taken part in this tradition. There are several aspects that I am determined to change and to will those changes into habits. When it comes to resolutions, I feel this is the end goal.

Before I jump headlong into that let’s get the regular order of things out of the way:

It is now January. 2011 has come and gone. The year, like years often do, held a lot of events. Poignantly I recall the many deaths that occurred and send out condolences to those left behind. Wedding planning began in earnest and has progressed beautifully. I am happy to look at my list of to dos and see it getting smaller. Classes were hard but I made major progress. Walgreens has been… unique. I’m struggling with an idea that may shake the foundations of my personality.

The wedding, as mentioned above, has been progressing nicely. Still due is that cumulative status report and I still insist that is forthcoming. Classes start again on Tuesday and they usually put a damper on all of my ambitious plans. However to give a gist here’s a quick check list:

- Wedding Cake has been decided. A white on white 3-tiered monstrosity of white cake, German chocolate cake, and strawberry cake decorated in either mums or ranunculus in the vibrant pink and green. The frosting will be pearly white buttercream decorated with some scroll work reminiscent of the adornments on the lanterns.
- The lanterns! They had arrived at my mother’s and waited patiently for me. I adore them! There will of course be pictures. They are sweet and white and with a candle inside throw off warm fairy light. As a test we placed them on a white pillow case and scattered about them the bobbles and petals we had selected and it was PERFECT! I’m ecstatic about them.
- The invitations are jealously waiting for some attention. They are on my checklist to be completed by the end of February (but hopefully sooner).
- The bridesmaid’s dress has been selected and I hope it makes everyone happy. It is simple and sweet. It is also long. I just really hope it isn’t too obtrusive.

So now a bit of a wedding venting session… I keep getting told “it’s your wedding!” but at the same time being pushed towards things that were not my initial inclination. I want to involve people in the planning of the wedding but at the same time I get so frustrated. It is like I’m being pulled apart. Do what you want, Bridget. But make sure you do it this way.

Everything in the wedding has been a compromise. Now before you take that the wrong way look at the definition of compromise. Here, I will help: a settlement of differences; a blending of two things.

The dress was something I never, ever would have picked for myself in a thousand years. But I love it! A compromise: it was not what I would have chosen but I do adore it.

The Grand is so far from where I would have staged my wedding it is not even funny but it is very convenient, big, and affordable. A compromise: rather than have an out of the way wedding at Lumberman’s Monument with lots of hassle have an easy to reach wedding with an all in one package.

My darling cupcakes have been replaced with a 3-tiered beast. A compromise: I love cupcakes. It’s ridiculous. But I would want to make them myself and that’s virtually impossible. A wedding cake is traditional and I might as well follow the trend of abandoning every idea of what my wedding would be and just go get a cake. HOWEVER! The cake WILL be in my original three cake flavors.

The poor bridesmaids. All I ever wanted was for them to be happy. But apparently that goes against some great convention of weddings where the bride gets her way. What happens when the bride’s desire is just for everyone to have a good time and enjoy themselves? I think it’s one of those “buttered toast stuck to a cat’s back” problems. I wanted originally a short spunky look; to select one collection and a set of colors and let them choose what they wanted. A compromise: they all get to wear one, long dress in one color and one fabric. But they’ll supposedly look good! Two of them are pushing six feet tall the other two are closer to five feet. The pains to coordinate these four girls are immense. Couple the height and body type variations with the fact that only my two cousins live in the same area and you have an impossible task.

In the end of it all I am still excited to get married. I’m still going to be a giddy bride. My idea of the wedding is that it isn’t about the little things; don’t sweat them! It’s about getting married and spending time with friends and family. I’m sure there are more compromises to come and I will be there, ready to bend with them and to reshape my views and ideas.

Oh! And before you take all of this as “I’m being pushed around and can’t get my way” there are TWO things I have gotten my way on and one thing I’m insisting upon. The photographer and the DJ. I got who I wanted. I’m very happy about that. Watch them suck. Wouldn’t that be fine irony. The third item is the music. Nick and I have an eclectic taste and I want it represented in an unobtrusive manner. If I had to pick a “theme” the music would be it.

Now to my resolutions.

The first is a biggie: I’m not going to fight with my mother. She and I have had two fights in the last six months and I’m done with it. There’s absolutely so many things I want to say. “She said…” “She did…” but I am done. I’m not very good at biting my tongue but my first resolution is to chew that sucker off until there’s nothing left but a stump.

I am resolved to write here more and to make the writing more… meaty. These funny little blog posts are cute and whatnot but I would rather something with a bit more substance. Fiction and theoretical musings. Deep confessions and social satire. PONIES!

I vow to be 130 pounds by the wedding.

See what I did there? I said 130. I didn’t say 135. I sat here and thought about it. No, I put my goal in my diet planner as 130 and it will be 130 for all the world to see. Because damnit I’m sick of… this stuff. So there it is: 130. That’s 17 pounds by May 30th. That’s 0.8 pounds lost a week. Just watch me.

To achieve financial stability. I don’t mean this like the commercials for IRAs and 401ks mean. I mean that I want to track my spending habits down to the last penny. I want to start using coupons and quit spending unnecessarily.

Nick and I want to be on our own by the end of this year, hopefully in the fall. To do this we need to achieve several financial goals first. Foremost is to pay for the wedding! It’s entirely us at this point. I’m not counting on anyone. I have absolutely no clue how we’re going to handle it. The next is a vehicle for him. Then we must save the money to move. And I want a little cushion before we move so that we have a safety net. And the money to fix his teeth. And of course what I need to finish school.

In the end I’m resolved to be resolved. The problem with me is that I start out great and go for a while really doing well. Then I fall for some reason. I’m tired or lazy or I get sick or I just want to ignore the truth.

But I’m ready to get to it… so here I go!

James Bostrom

Deeply shaken and feeling lost.
All that could be never was.
I am moved to begin a journey of a thousand miles by the beckoning of an end.
For too long I’ve been away from my home.

Sorry for the bad poetry… I am feeling empty but filled to the brim. Excluding Nick and my cats, I want only the people who are distantly displaced from myself.

I would like to be immersed in their physical presence but it is impossible… Very rarely but occurring now is a desire for embrace. As is often said it is not the quantity but the quality. To be taken up now in the arms of another would to be given a gift priceless.

Uncle Jimmy,

I knew you too little. I wish you had more time with us. I will miss you; I will miss the possibilities. I mourn deeply for your sister and your daughter. I wish them peace. In your memory, I will cherish them intensely.

Goodbye.

A Post to Prove That There Is No H8

So, Birdy has accused me of drinking the H8rade and not even having the courtesy to Jarate it up. (Not on her, of course. Unless she’s on fire.) So, I told her that I’d write a blog post, unfortunately our friend is playing TF2 and making funny noises, so I can’t ignore that siren call to also aid in blowing people up, so I will offer an experimental post. Everytime I die, I will write another sentence on here and that will be the content of this post.

And that’s a scout sneaking up on me. I was hoping that I’d picked a good vantage point that I would be safe, but I died. So, got an entire round of Granary in without dying. I was impressed with myself, but then a Jarated scout killed me. Stupid melee hit mechanics. And now I was set on fire by a Pyro and had to inform Birdy that episodes of My Little Pony are shared on our network somewhere.

Getting our media streamed to our network is probably our next big task when it comes to setting up our digital environment. We’re beginning to rip our movies to Birdy’s computer so that we don’t have to go hunting for DVDs and can instead just pull them up on the PS3. So far it’s been going pretty good. When it comes to music, though, we still just play it through the computer.

So, it seems that I’m doing less writing and more playing, I’ll just call this post done.

“How exactly does a sex kitten style her hair?” and other pertinent questions.

In the previous musing I wondered how a sex kitten would style her hair and proposed the idea of asking Google.

Turns out, a sex kitten DOESN’T style her hair. She leaves it natural and luscious, perfectly framing her face and accenting her natural curves and angles. Proof? Looky looky.

And while this kitten is primping, posing, and puckering up, what is her Pooky doing? Why, showing off his buttocks, of course!

This is turning out to be quite the image-y post. A nice juxtaposition to my previously wordy submission.

Have some cupcakes! What type of cupcakes? Pumpkin spice with cinnamon cream cheese frosting specifically.

Do you like rainbows? I do!!

Now these are some oldies but they are worthy of being shared (at least I think so!) What does the sky look like when you are flying from Flint to Atlanta in September? It has sunsets, clouds and whatnot.

That’s it for now. An admirable addition if I do say so myself. I won’t bombard you with another 2700 words this evening. In closing, I love this girl:

XOXO
~Birdy

PS – maybe I’ll make Nick post something soon…

It’s been a while…

I regularly seem to have a problem keeping up with blogs and this one has been no exception. It’s not that I don’t want to. In fact, I find myself often wanting to but unable to due to a lack of time or resources when the desire to write occurs.

Recently I’ve been having vivid dreams which place in me a desire to record them. Or to go as far as to write a small novel! A novella perhaps?

Let me take a step back, though… that’s a bit much to jump into right away.

Wedding Planning: Update!

There’s not overly much to say. The photographer and DJ are paid in full. I am still in need of finances though but I feel Nick and I will make it. We had a wedding pow-wow a few weeks ago and it was very productive however events immediately following the little luncheon date turned everything around and I simply haven’t had time to go over the material we gathered.

But I will very soon – perhaps as soon as tomorrow – and provide the synopsis here. Once that is done, my very next goal is to prepare for the engagement photo shoot *GLEE* that will occur when we visit home at New Year’s and to buy the darling moroccan lanterns and have them shipped home for Nick, mom and I to oogle together.

Then it will be on to invitations and favors! Oh and those girls need to get on their dresses, too… but that’s next year and I’ve got several weeks to go before that.

School is going well; I am adoring my classes thoroughly. My sweet little math class is full of brain-bereft students however and I feel that my creativity is… well, wasted. Even the professor is a bit of a dunce when it comes to complex paragraphs and my elongated (but hopefully eloquent!) writing style.

My CPR prof, Mr. R. Reynolds is the exact opposite! He engages me in a way that I haven’t yet experienced in any class before. I cannot BELIEVE he is simply a physical education instructor. He’s finishing up a doctorate though and wants to open his own academy with a contemporary method of teaching. He feels the current standard of lecturing is out-dated and does not encourage personal growth but instead dampens it and the souls of the students themselves. And I thoroughly agree! If he succeeds in his dreams, I will surely wish to send my children to his school when the time comes.

We discuss so many things it’s hard to summarize them here and I feel I should devote an entire post to the musings we present to one another. From the human soul to theoretical physics, he is an amazingly intelligent man with a bright and creative mind and I am grateful to have met him.

Also notable is my biology professor, Mrs. D. LaCole! Her lessons have been fun and informative. Her love of the subject shines through in her enthusiasm to share it with her students. I have thanked her profusely for her method of teaching because it goes above and beyond what most other teachers have done for me (with the exceptions being Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Nomura.)

She admits that sometimes it is disheartening to look out across her classroom and see vacant faces or downward-turned heads, fingers hurriedly texting under cover of the desktop. My bright eyes and eager mind give her hope that something is making it through to someone. I always provide feedback to her which is possible due to her forum-style classroom. She provides ample lecture material and allows us to openly comment on it, our own life experiences and knowledge supporting the lessons.

Wow, this has been a rather lucid post!

Now on to personal goodies.

Work was… well, it was stressful. Stress on the was, if you would. Why? Well, because. Because I guess I work too hard and I am too vested in my job. I’m unsure why this is a bad thing and I am unsure why I have been punished for it but there it is, plain as day.

While under such constant stress, I broke. A simple question turned into a flogging session where my work ethic was challenged. The irony is that in the very same breath that the degradation occurred, the speaker also pronounced that I was hands-down the hardest worker in my group. I say group because, as school has taught me, there is a difference between “group” and “team.”

There is no team at work.

God I hope Laharl doesn’t barf on my jacket. :X

The shattering of my normally-stable-but-then-fragile psyche sent me into a downward spiral of seizures and panic attacks, complete with that feeling of being trapped, the darkening of the skies, an immense pressure upon my chest and shoulders limiting my breathing ability, and a headache that was near to splitting my skull (and damn well would have if I didn’t cry to relieve some of the pressure.)

But I’m a rather sane and stubborn individual and I said hey, adrenal gland. Will you lay off a friggin’ minute so I can get a grip on reality? And of course it did, because I am God Emporer of Birdyrrakis.

And then I went to my doctor.

Well, physician’s assistant to be precise, but I trust her immensely as I would any assistant of Dr. Kim. He has the highest standards in his staff.

She squeezed me in, the doll, and saw me for longer than she should have. I kept myself under control even though a few tears wanted to sneak themselves out. In the end, she provided to me a happy little peachy-pink pill. Her assessment to me seemed to be accurate: I was having panic attacks under immense stress that were causing silent seizures to occur. It is likely that I have had them for quite some time and through sheer stubbornness, I have plowed my way through them. The brutish way in which I have dealt with these troubles was not the best method and could have led to a compounding of issues with the breakdown being the end result. Frightening was her prediction that the episodes could get worse with time given lack of treatment and management.

And so my world was given Lamictal (lamotrigine, but I much prefer the American trade name; I put happy emphasis on the vowels that makes it slide of my tongue like a slippery and wiggly slug.)

The experience has been interesting! I was told that some patients report the drug as life-changing and I can see why. It has taken me to a completely different level of calm that I don’t think I have achieved since I was a small child, walking lazily through the grass of my yard to my tire swing with nothing to bother me and only the sun, the bees and the clover flowers as my companions.

When at work, I exude a distinctive “do not care” attitude. That isn’t to say that I don’t work as hard as before. Though I felt at first that I was noticeably slower than before medication, my coworkers have emphatically affirmed that I am functioning at the same speed and accuracy as usual – though I do have a severe case of dropsy.

It’s just… things don’t strike me as hard before. A customer complaint would have left me in tears, my self-image quivering in fear of being destroyed by the weapons of self-doubt and failure. A feeling of desertion caused by my coworker’s lack of effort would have left me bereft, trapped in isolation as they happily float about while I keep the strings of reality barely tacked down. Impending doom would come to me in the form of exams and tests. Though I had studied profusely and knew the material thoroughly; though I adored my professors and their classes and the subject matter, I knew in my heart of hearts that I would fail.

At the end of each scenario, my worries would be for naught. My persona would be strong and stable, as it always has been. Reality would not unravel into nothingness. My grades would emerge like pristine A-shaped butterflies, warming their wings in the sunlight of my success.

Holy shit, that was poetic. Apparently, drugs make me quite the verbose artiste.

Derp.

Mr. Lamictal curbs those awful feelings of panic and their companion seizures and lets me float happily along like everyone else in the world seems to. La-dee-da.

My mother amusingly quotes to me Huey Lewis and the News. “I want a new drug…” My mind feels more like it’s on the 59th Street Bridge. Hello, lamppost…

This lazy, hazy calmness does not come without a price. I find my waking hours quite pleasant, as mentioned above. Populated with peace and a steady ability to conquer all things with time. Or to simply leave them on the side of my life’s road to be picked at by the scavengers of existence.

But the nights… oh they have been something else altogether.

Perhaps it is an attempt to keep balance in check but my dreams have been nothing short of nightmares. When I do catch sleep, it is fleeting. I wake constantly, tossing and turning in that state of uncomfort right before a leg cramp kicks in. But there is never a leg cramp and the sensation is echoing throughout my entire body. My joints feel the need to pop but no matter how I twist and turn them, the relief never comes. And I suckle upon my tongue, leaving my mouth parched and enhancing the formation of canker sores. I drink mouthfuls of water when I wake each time, trying to stave off the progression and intensity of the apthous ulcers but to no avail.

Yet I wake rested and alert; my mind seemingly functioning at its usual acute and astuteness. I must have gotten nearly six and a half hours last night, interspersed with a plethora of tossings and turnings and blanketed under a horrible nightmare about a fight with my mother. I should not be so alert and energetic… yet I am!

I’m not quite sure how I feel about this but I will report it to my doctor or his assistant for sure.

A bit of elaboration on the dreams since it fascinates me to dissect them.

My dreams have been a source of great pleasure for me since my childhood. Nightmares had plagued my young brain to a point where I was terrified of the dark and sleeping. I still am quite scared of the dark but can find it tolerable now if Nick or one or more of my cats are near.

I conquered the beast of nightmares by learning the technique of lucid dreaming. To be honest, I doubt I truly learned it – I was too young to be taught something like that. I truly believe I developed it as an offensive way to deal with bad dreams.

These nightmares I have been having as of late are truly and intensely susceptible to lucidity. Though drug-induced they are within the realm of my mind and I have complete control of their courses. They may start out terrifying or more often than not purely FRUSTRATING, but I can control them. Rewind them. Manipulate them. Convert them to my desires.

Frustrating dreams are more upsetting than me to true horrific nightmares. Even so, they are within my control.

I’ve had four dreams on four consecutive nights.

The first was a familiar theme to me: aliens attacking my home. Oh, aliens. How I adore killing you. Your bulbous heads and glossy, unblinking eyes provide luxurious targets for my projectile or blunt-force weapons. This unconscious formation took a unique twist however.

It seems that Nick and I had procured a fabulous home at a truly insane price. Insane as it was extremely low. Along with this gorgeous fully-furnished home, we also were allowed to adopt two little daughters. Their parents had been the previous owners of the home and we were presented them as our wards.

To make a long and dilute story short, the aliens were seeking a weapon of great power hidden in the house. They had no desire to kill us and destroy us; they only wanted to take the weapon where it could be safe. However, lucidity allowed Nick and I to transform into the perfect guardians and so the aliens relented and allowed us to live in peace as long as we fought with such voracity any enemy that would seek our dangerous possession.

Second on the second night was a dream to which I will devote a much larger post. I will list here simply points for ease of documentation.

Furry bulletin board (don’t ask me why)
Round-style story telling
Large storm in small town
Destroys homes
MY TURN!
Storm was extension of curse brought over from Europe
Curse was druidic in nature; perhaps pagan witchery?
300 year anniversary of town being settled approaching
Quota limit approaching for curse to collect souls also approaching
Curse became active by manifesting as storm
TRUE curse was a deep well, filled with mud from the “old country” whose walls were built with stones of similar ancestry
Those who fell in well sunk slowly over seven days…
If within the seven days, someone took their place, the original victim could escape but the savior would die instead
Thus the curse claimed lives over the years… but it had a quota to fill
X amount of souls eaten in X amount of years
With the anniversary approaching, it was hungry to fill its demented means
Storm broke down walls of great door-less, window-less windmill that protected well
Haughty, rude, and vain girl fell in
Girl was one of three daughters – the middle one – of a clergy man in the village
First daughter was athletic and generous
Third daughter was bookish and quite but sweet
Their mother had died some years before, leaving them to be raised by their father
Middle daughter despised her small town and was cruel to all, even those she called “friends”
Upon falling in, no one would take her place
Her father was restrained by the townsfolk; they knew he would give himself for his child but they valued his life so much they could not lose him
They disvalued her so much, they were just going to let her die
It’s not that they didn’t try however
As the sun set on the last day, an idea was formed…
Break down the well instead of trying to get the girl out.
At last moment, victory!
Last scene however shows a dark figure from earlier in the tale carrying hefted upon his shoulder one of those dark and cruel stones from the well’s wall and in the other hand, a pale of bubbling amorphous muck taken from the selfsame pit
He whistles happily a tune that will be familiar to most as his path takes him away from the village to plague another locale…

The next two dreams involved intense quarrels with Susan and my mother. They were stupid but so heated that I left both homes forever. I awoke boggled. Why would we ever fight over such stupid subjects? Why would I ever LEAVE after such stupid fights? It would never happen but Lamictal wants to make sure I curb my temper so as to prevent such events from occurring.

So that has been my last month or so in an extremely large and luxurious nutshell. Tonight is a happy little yearly ritual at the Kosenka-Evans house: the NBC party. Due to a lack of time Nick and I regrettably cannot be John Crichton and Aeryn Sun. I just simply could not finish our black vinyl pants. But mark my words, we will be them! It is all well and good; I have no funds to get us pulse pistols. What is Crichton without his Winona?

Instead of the astronaut gone astray and the Peace Keeper gone rogue, Nick will be Nick and I will be a sex kitten in a dress from high school. How exactly does a sex kitten style her hair, I wonder? Google will help with this, I’m sure!